#its a childish indicator after all

[medicaltechnician]

i guess thats one thing i miss bout having a partner, someone to listen to my inane ramblings and help me sleep at night. I find comfort in a trusted person beside me, physically or over the phone.

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

Christmas Morning (2)

Wanda X Natasha X Reader

Summary: Once the three of you eventually manage to get out of bed, it's time to open the presents, a small, velvety box with your name written on it waiting to be opened. 

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings/Tags: Pure Fluff, No smut. 

A/N: This is the second part to 'Christmas Morning'

Soft laughter filled the beautifully decorated living room as you all sat on the sofa together, your head resting against Natasha's shoulder as you watched Wanda go first to open all of her presents, a shy smile playing on her lips at the amount of them, your fingers playing with Natasha's absentmindedly.

"You shouldn't have gotten me so much..." She trails off, biting her lip as her gaze flickers over the abundance of wrapped up gifts, the Christmas themed wrapping being admired by the witch as she picks up her first present, her enticing green turning towards you both, smile still shy.

"Why? You deserve everything and more Malyshka," Natasha murmurs softly towards Wanda, creating a warmth to bubble in the witch's chest as she sits on the seat closer to the tree, her fingers itching to reveal the gift, a childish excitement brewing in her.

Once she met your loving gazes once more, she smiled at you a little more confidently now, her fingers delicately tearing away the strips of paper to discover what her gift was, a giggle leaving her lips at the gag gift that was in the box, the corner of your lips tugging up at the angelic noise.

"Really?" She chuckled out, her hands carefully pulling out the three stuffed toys that were in the box, her head shaking at most likely your antics as she revealed the three figures to you, Natasha's grin widening.

The redhead's gaze turned to your humoured one at the sight of the three of you in merchandise form, your avenger's title making it easy for you to find a funny gift like that to start the day off, your eyes drifting away from the alluring emerald to look over the soft figures once again, another laugh leaving you.

"They were just so cute, I couldn't resist," you reason, the witch looking at them with a soft, tender look, placing them down carefully on the sofa next to her and propping them up, a gentle expression taking over your face as you could tell she secretly loved them, the smile on her lips etched onto her face.

Wanda continued to unwrap her presents that yourself and the spy had bought from her, her smile growing wider and wider at each thoughtful gift, her red tendrils surrounding the wrapping paper that had made its way to the floor, gently floating them over to the rubbish bag you had gone to retrieve as you asked for her to wait before opening the last present from you and the spy.

Your gaze met Natasha's as you cuddled back into her side, her strong arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer, sensing your nerves as you waited for the witch to stop trying to figure out what her last gift was, the Russian's fingers tracing random patterns against your curves as watched the witch with you.

"Relax Krasotka, she'll love it," the Russian whispers at your ear, her lips pressing a gentle kiss to your temple to ease your nerves, her fingers interlocking with yours, knowing how you loved to trace over the smooth skin of her digits and caress her knuckles.

Both of you observed as Wanda eagerly pulled away the wrapping paper, a child-like innocence taking over her as she smiles widely in excitement, her green that were overflowing with curiosity softening, her gaze flickering to you after realising what the present was.

"I love it," Wanda whispers, honesty lacing her tone as her gaze is drawn back to the photo album of the three of you, various pictures making her heart melt as she flicks through the pages. One of her favourites is of one Natasha took of the three of you sprawled out on the same sofa somehow, your body squished in between theirs as the film played on in the background, your face clearly indicating how tired you were as you slept in the awkward position, the witch looking at you with nothing but love in her eyes. Another one of her favourites was a recent photo that you had taken of the witch and spy in the kitchen, Natasha's hands holding onto Wanda's hips as they swayed to the soft Christmas music that played, unaware of you snapping the intimate photo of them both gazing longingly at each other.

After carefully placing down the present, she swiftly made her way to the two of you to steal a chaste kiss, expressing her gratitude and appreciation for all the gifts you had gotten her, the three of you unable to stop smiling as Wanda took Natasha's place, the redhead going up to open her presents now.

You let Wanda decide to sit in between your legs, your arms snaking around her middle as you propped your head up on her shoulder, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek before letting your gaze wander to Natasha who found her section of presents, her heart unable to deal with the amount of joy bubbling inside her. She never knew she could feel so loved as you both gazed at her softly, her smile growing a little wider at the sheer happiness swirling within her and enveloping her heart.

"Wait, open the card last," you intervene when she picks the small envelope up first, her brow raising at you curiously before she obliges in your request, placing down the white envelope on the side out of harms way before moving onto another gift, her mind focussing on the way you share a look with Wanda, assuming there was something special in the card.

Once Natasha had gotten through her other gifts, her favourite so far being the personalised knife set, she let her fingers slide over the soft material of the envelope, her gaze moving back to you two and the smile playing on your lips.

"Should I be scared?" The Russian teases, a smirk playing on her lips as you merely chuckle, shaking your head playfully at her while Wanda leans further into your embrace, her nose scrunching up in that adorable way.

"Just open it Dorogaya," Wanda huffs out in a laugh, the spy then opening the envelope to reveal an old polaroid.

"Is that..." Natasha trails off, various emotions swirling in her eyes as tears build there, her eyes raking over the vintage photo of a beautiful woman holding a baby with a wide smile on its face, her head snapping up to the two of you who have tender smiles on your face.

"Yes," Wanda whispers, not wanting to disrupt the moment as Natasha looks at the polaroid of her and her unknown mother, her heart squeezing in her chest at the amount of effort the two of you must have put in to find a photo of the woman Natasha longed to meet and know about. The redhead flips the image over to see words scribbled in Russian, her fingers trembling as she translates them in her mind.

Moya malenkaya devochka (My little girl), Natalia Alianova Romanova.

Ever so gently, Natasha places down the picture and rushes over to you two to pull you in for an embrace, Wanda moving carefully so that all three of you could hold one another, the spy sniffing a little at the overwhelming feelings flooding through her, your lips meeting her temple as you pull her into your lap, Wanda pressing another to her cheek.

"Merry Christmas Nat," you whisper to her, her lips instantly meeting yours intimately, her mouth parting to say sometime to you as she pulls back but refraining from doing so, not wanting to spoil what was to come.

"I love you both so much," she murmurs whilst kissing Wanda, the witch smiling knowingly at the passionate undertone to her words, the witch stealing the spy from your lap and letting her sit next to her, motioning for you to go up and grab your own presents.

Whilst Wanda was subtly comforting the spy, her lips at the shell of her ear whispering soft words, you moved to the tree, pulling out the array of boxes the two of them had gotten you. Like a child, you simply went for the biggest box first, eager to know what the present was as your fingers tugged and pulled hastily the wrapping paper off, Natasha chuckling under her breath as your tongue peeked out of your mouth, your face drawn up into concentration as didn't know if it was fragile or not, scared to break the gift.

A genuine laughter surrounded the room as you found out that it was indeed another gag gift, the smile playing on your lips eliciting one from the other two women as you pulled out the Christmas jumper with the two of them on it, your hands sliding over the soft fabric to reach the shoulders to hold it up properly, allowing yourself to get a proper view of it.

"This is perfect," you chuckle out, eyes drifting across the different patterns that adorned the jumper as well as the two Avengers on the front of it, another laugh escaping you when you read the writing engraved onto it. "Have a Wanda-ful Christmas," your tone humorous as you peeked from behind the jumper to see Wanda rolling her eyes at your amusement, Natasha laughing with you as she kissed the brunette's temple, smirking a little at the gift she found.

After you had admired the sweatshirt for long enough, you moved onto your next present, and the next and the next until you had unwrapped everything you had, a pile of thoughtful gifts surrounding you as you smiled at the two women, starting to move towards them for another hug when Natasha spoke, stopping you in your tracks.

"You've missed a present Krasotka," the spy says, an indecipherable tone lacing her words as you tilt your head in curiosity, looking back towards the tree and crouching a little, noticing a small, elegantly wrapped box hidden near the back of the tree. You chuckled at their teasing comments as you bent down to reach the gift, your smile tugging up at the corner of your lips at the amount of effort they put into getting you all of these presents, your heart melting in your chest at their enamoured gazes.

"You didn't need to get me this much, you both spoil me," you say with a gentle tone, eyes noticing how Natasha takes a hold on Wanda's hand delicately once again, their eyes meeting for a knowing look before returning to your figure stood by the tree, the two of them taking in the sight, wishing it engrave it in their memories.

"We'll always spoil you Detka," Wanda murmurs, watching as your fingers take a slower approach to unwrapping this present, curiosity and interest swirling in your eyes as you peel back the paper, revealing a small, velvety box, your eyes meeting theirs, a swarm of butterflies taking over your entire body, heart beating wildly in your chest as you admired the delicate box.

Almost timidly, you carefully opened the lid of the box, a gasp leaving you at the breath-taking sight of the ring. A diamond was placed in the middle of it, gold tendrils wrapping angelically around the jewel, the radiant item causing the pounding of your heart to reach your ears as you took in what this meant, your gaze flicking to the engraving of 'Krasotka' and 'Detka' inscribed on the inner part of the ring before reaching the writing written on the roof of the box.

There were two lines of writing, your eyes noting how the first one was in Russian and the second Sokovian, your fingers trembling as you held the box, eyes meeting the two sets of alluring green trained on you, observing your reaction carefully as you tried to guess what the words meant, too scared to jump to conclusions.

"What..." Your word was barely above a whisper, scared to speak too loud and disrupt the tranquil atmosphere, Wanda and Natasha both smiling at you softly.

"The vyidesh saa nas zamuzh?" Natasha says whilst Wanda says the same thing in Sokovian, tears building in your eyes from happiness as your smile widens, warmth and affection filling your chest as you can't stop your gaze from flickering between the ring and the two of them.

"Will you marry us?" Wanda translates, confirming your assumptions, your smile breaking into a wide grin before you rush to crash into their arms, love enveloping the three of you entirely.

"Yes," you say with no hesitation, their arms wrapping securely around you, your body sinking into the hug as you were left speechless at the amount of overwhelming emotions swirling inside you. Their pleasant perfumes invaded your nose at how close you were, their soft arms encasing you against them firmly, your lips blindly searching for one of theirs as you poured everything into the kiss, hands coming up to cup their cheek to deepen the kiss, your mouth then moving onto the other immediately, their hands at your waist squeezing with the intention as if to tell you that they meant the words, your mind unable to process the sheer joy inside you.

"Yes?" Natasha asked, unable to wipe the smile of her face as her chest was filled with love and warmth, her lips pressing over yours once more, unable to stop herself as Wanda pressed another one to your cheek, you being able to feel how the witch's lips were pulled into a wide smile, her nose scrunching up in that adorable manner.

"Yes, a million times yes," you sigh out, nuzzling into their comforting embraces, not sure on what to do about the overwhelming feelings fluttering inside you, the only thing you were sure on being your love for them.

The three of you watched in awe as Wanda slipped the ring out of the box, encouraging you to offer your hand out for her, the ring perfectly sliding onto your finger as you wiped away the stray tear of happiness that spilt down your cheek, a soft, breathy chuckle leaving you as you snuggled back into their soothing arms.

"Love isn't a strong enough word to describe how I feel about you both," you murmur softly, your head pressed against Natasha's shoulder as Wanda's arm glides up and down your back, her head resting on top of yours as she kisses Natasha softly, both of their hearts melting at your confession, Natasha's fingers caressing the back of your head, playing delicately with your hair.

"There isn't a word powerful enough that truly expresses the love we share," Wanda whispers, the three of you manoeuvring sightly to make it easier to cuddle, the three of you simply wanting to relish in the intimacy of the moment as your limbs tangled together, lips pressing ever so gently against one another, expressing your love silently as you sink into each other, the world around you melting away. You were left with only the lingering touches of tenderness and care as you longed to remember this moment forever, the love swirling inside you undeniable and all-consuming as you realised this was where you truly belonged.

You only ever needed each other. 

[lost-and-ephemeral]

Helloo><!!! I love your fics sm ueueue!!! I was wondering if it's okay with you to write about Zayne and Rafayel with a very childish Mc who loves a lot of cute stuffies!!! Mc is really bubbly and gets excited and happy over all the little things and just like Rafayel, they are a painter too:DD!!! except Mc doesn't get attention on their art which makes them sad... But overall, just a mostly bubbly and cuddly Mc on both if its okie><!! Tyyy!!!

HCs: Childish Beloved (Zayne, Rafayel)

Pairing: Zayne x reader, Rafayel x reader

Tags: fluff, established relationship

A/N: Thanks for your request, sweetheart! I'm also sorry it takes me a lot of time to write requests. So much work, so little time irl.

-`♡´- MASTERLIST -`♡´- 

Zayne

You're the exact opposite of Zayne, but that's not a bad thing.

Opposites attract. It works the same way with him.

Zayne is pretty reserved and quiet, so he needs a bright person like you for the perfect balance.

Your babbly and childlike demeanor makes his heart melt with love.

Even on the coldest and gloomiest day, you are able to shine like the sun itself.

It's hard for him to show affection, so your cuddly personality completely overrides that little flaw.

Every time you hug him unexpectedly, Zayne's whole body tenses up at first and then slowly relaxes in your arms.

Just don't melt that Mr. Snowman completely.

Don't mind your babbling, unless he has some very urgent work to do. Don't be upset, it's just that sometimes Zayne has lots of important work to do and he can't make a mistake.

After hard day at work he will 100% fall asleep to the sound of your voice.

Always praising your art, even the smallest sketches.

If you do a little goofy sketch of him, he'll carry it in his wallet. Always. He just won't admit it openly.

But one day you'll find out anyway. Zayne will just chuckle at your happy reaction.

When you get excited about the little things, he just shakes his head and smiles.

He can't believe that such a sweet little being could love someone as cold as him.

He doesn't mind that you in love with every cute little thing you see. Because, well, you're cute too.

Sometimes he will unintentionally look for something you might really like.

He's literally spoiling you with plushies and sweets.

You have a special warm place in his heart.

Rafayel

Rafayel isn't bothered in the slightest by your personality or your behavior.

He is an expressive and bright person in his own way.

Just loves listening to your babbling while he's painting. You can talk about anything that comes into your head, Rafayel won't say anything against it.

You're really cuddly person? Great, he doesn't mind and actually loves this too. He's pretty affectionate himself.

But he still blushes every time you get him into your arms. Cutie.

Perhaps sometimes it is your warm embrace that was missing for him to so wanted inspiration for his latest painting.

And speaking of paintings, he's just in awe of the fact that you're an artist too.

He'll be sure to ask you to paint something together with him.

Don't be surprised if at one of his next exhibitions you'll see this painting, even with an indication of your co-authorship.

Rafayel thinks that you and your art deserve all the love and attention. And he can provide it.

He will tell everyone that his beloved is really talented.

With you he is even more playful than usual.

You're his little sunshine. He's happy when you're happy. So when you're excited over something small, he can't help but chuckle and smile.

Loves seeing you all joyful and excited, because your joy is contagious.

If you see a cute thing you like, you'll have it right away.

Even in all available colors and variations if you want so. Rafayel can afford it.

Won't stop until he gets all the toys you like out of the claw machine.

Just never ever leave him. Rafayel won't survive without you and your adorable personality.

[surielstea]

A Secretary’s Secrets

Based on this request.

Pairing: Modern!Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel can’t seem to keep his hands to himself in the workplace.

Warnings: Suggestive, implied smut

2.9k word count

My heels clack loudly on the marble tiles as I race down the hall, a few coworkers giving me an unsteady stare through the floor-to-ceiling windows but I don't pay them any mind while I beeline towards the conference room.

My boss had texted me saying he needed to get out of the meeting he was in, telling me I needed to make up some sort of excuse to pull him from it.

I skid to a stop just before the door and compose myself, regaining my breath. I knock on the door lightly, but there's no way to tell if I'm allowed to enter the windowless room with its soundproof walls, so when I crack the door open and peek my head in I can only pray I’m not intruding.

My eyes snag on an irritated Azriel, not annoyed with me but with the rest of the much older men in the room— who happened to be staring at me like a prize to be won. "I'm sorry to interrupt but," I look to my boss with creased brows. "You have another meeting you need to get to, Sir." I give him a polite smile and his glare on everyone else drags to me, something in his expression softens. "Right, well then." Azriel collects the folders he laid out and puts them back into the briefcase in front of him. "We can reschedule." He looks to the men in the room who all seem too disgruntled because they knew he was lying, it took them weeks to get Azriel to agree to this, and now here I was, dragging him away from it. He shuts the clasps of the briefcase with a click before grabbing it and following me out the door, shutting it behind him.

"Was that okay?" I look up at him with creased brows. "Perfect, my love." He hums, walking towards the elevator at the end of the hall as I rush after him. "I take it didn't go well?" I say, clasping my hands behind my back. "For them, no, it did not." He mutters. "For me? I'm just happy I don't have to partner with them anymore." He sighs in relief. I smile up at him as we reach the end of the hall and he gestures to the elevator.

"You want to do it?" He asks and a childish grin spreads over my face as I press the button, calling the lift.

It only takes a moment before the doors open and we're entering.

"That skirt is awfully tight." He comments and I glance back at him with a smirk while clicking the button that will send us to the top floor. "You don't like it?" I do a small twirl and his jaw feathers, I smile as I notice him gripping the handle of his briefcase particularly tight. "I don't like that others get to see you in it." He answers and I roll my eyes. "You know I'm only yours." I snake my arms around the back of his neck. "I want them to know that too." He looks to the doors of the elevator and I grin. "You know my rules." I remind and he sighs, looking down at me with creased brows. "We're alone now, aren't we?" His large hand comes up to my waist, spanning the area easily. "We are." I nod and push off of my heels, lifting up and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. When I back away he looks up to the floor indicator. He smiles and crashes his lips down onto mine, pushing me back against the wall of the elevator. "We've got ten levels left," He mumbles against my lips and I grin wildly, pulling him closer.

He drops his briefcase so his hand can come under my thigh, lifting me up to be pressed against his chest and the wall behind me. His arm cradles beneath my thighs with his freehand roams anywhere it can find.

His mouth slots over mine, tongue swiping at my bottom lip and all I can do is let him in— parting my mouth just wide enough for him to take control, hand finding my jaw as he angles my face closer, so he can kiss me deeper. His tongue explores every crevice he can find, pushing me harder against the wall like he needed more like our clothes were in the way and he yearned for pure connection. I couldn't deny I wanted anything less either.

His fingers dig into my thigh as I yank him back onto me when he tries to pull away. His hips press hard against the area I needed him most and I let out a soft whimper, hands gripping his neatly pressed suit. "Az," I sigh out when he rolls his hips over mine again, leaving me utterly breathless. "Why don't we just go home? Take the day off?" He mutters into my mouth and gods, did it sound tempting. "We can't just leave," I shake my head and he pulls away. "The meeting room is soundproof." He reminds and I flush pink. "Or if you'd like to bring back old memories we can always just go to my office." He taunts and the color tinging my cheeks only becomes deeper, remembering the way he laid me onto his desk as he pressed into me, I had worn a particularly short dress that day and he couldn't keep his hands off of me.

"We get off a six don't we?" I ask and he gives me a saddened nod. I grab his hand on my cheek and look at the expensive watch on his hand, the one I got him for his birthday last year. "Only thirty more minutes, then we'll go home," I promise and he pouts, I lean in and kiss his frown. "I think you can make it." I rub my thumb along his jaw and he grumbles a curse. "I don't think so." He shakes his head, lips coming to mine again. I smile against the familiar feeling. The elevator dings and I quickly slip from his hold, heels coming back down onto the ground. I adjusted my tight skirt, he watched me as I did so. I looked up at him and he pecked my lips one last time. I grin as he backs away, reaching forward and wiping a film of pink lip gloss from the corner of his mouth.

The elevator doors open and I back up at least a yard. He picks his briefcase up before slipping from the space and out into the hall, I follow a few feet behind him.

He enters his large office, giving me one last look before reluctantly closing the door behind him. I take up my desk beside his door, leaning back in my comfortable chair as I take calls and add meetings to Azriel's calendar for the next half hour.

Azriel and I have been dating for a few years now, but I didn’t want our relationship to interfere with our work life, afraid that I’d get judged by my coworkers for sleeping with the boss, but it was more than that. Azriel didn’t even approach me at work— we had run into each other at a bar and he offered to buy me a drink, it blossomed from there. I doubted they could see my side, only recognize that I fucked my way into this office, that my pay isn’t from my hard work but because of my body. The thought made me want to hurl.

So I didn’t let Azriel show any public displays of affection during work hours— aside from when we were alone, because, gods, the male’s libido was through the roof.

I released a long sigh as I stretched my limbs out, tired from waking up so early, and the fact that Azriel had kept me up all night last night.

I released a long sigh as I stretched my limbs out, tired from waking up so early, and the fact that Azriel had kept me up all night last night.

I shake my head from the lewd memories and look to the door where I saw Henson collecting his things. “Leaving?” I ask my coworker, getting up from my desk. “Yeah,” The male nodded. “I’m sorry for staying so late, I know you can’t leave until all of us are gone.” He sighs apologetically and I shake my head. “Nonsense, I had to catch up on a few more things anyway.” I wave him off and he nods with a polite smile.

His eyes linger on my bare legs and I shift on my heels uncomfortably, I look back toward Azriel’s office, making eye contact with him through the large window. “Do you have any weekend plans?” He asks and I whip my head back to him with an uneasy stare. “Uh,” I was going to the farmers' markets with Azriel, then we were supposed to go to dinner— and then stay in bed for the rest of the time we had off. The door opens behind me and I know Azriel’s leaning against the doorframe, I can practically feel him staring holes into my back, waiting for my answer. “I have plans with my boyfriend.” I shrug and Henson raises a blonde brow, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “I didn’t know you were...” He searches for the right word. “Off limits?” Azriel chimes in from behind me and he couldn’t have been more obvious, I could practically feel his bloodlust from here. “Yeah.” He mutters and I smile softly. “It’s odd that you wouldn’t know, we’ve been dating for nearly five years now.” I cross my arms over my chest and his brows shoot up. “I actually, wish he’d propose soon.” I glance back to Azriel with yearning eyes and a smirk curves his lips. “How could he not?” Henson scoffs before quickly sealing his lips shut. I giggle and give him a polite smile. “That’s how I feel.” I joke and he nods with a relaxed smile, backing away on his heel.

“Right, well I hope you have fun with the lucky guy.” He replies with a nod, walking towards the door. “Have a nice weekend Henson.” I give him a small wave and then he’s gone, behind the doors leading to the stairwell.

A wide grin spreads on my lips, now that the branch is finally empty. Leaving just me and Azriel. I turn on my heel with a bright expression. I practically skip back to him. “Propose huh?” His hands come to my hips as he pulls me into his office and shuts the door behind me. I shrug innocently as he waltzes over to his desk, settling in his large black chair that seemed more like a throne.

“Az,” I call after a moment of silence. His head whips to me with wondering hazel eyes and I smile, relieving the tension between his brows. “Love,” He replies and I stroll towards him. “Everyone’s gone,” I inform. “We can go home.” I round his desk and come behind him, sliding my arms down his shoulders and propping my chin atop his. “I’m sorry my love I completely forgot I have this project that needs to be done by tomorrow.” He sighs, leaning back to look up at me, meaning we couldn’t go home. I frown, hands coming to his sharp cheekbones. “Then I suppose we’ll be having a late night in the office.” I smile down at him and he leans up, pecking my lips from upside down. “Come, sit in my lap until I finish.” He whispers against my lips. A smile tugs at my lips and I kick off my heels before straddling over his hips, arms coming around the back of his neck and my head coming to his shoulder, where I begin to trail chaste, reassuring kisses up his neck, my hands roaming his big arms, muscles ripping beneath his shirt.

He grunted out a low sound, I backed away, looking at him quizzically. “You’re very distracting.” He murmurs, hand coming to my thigh. “The sooner I finish the sooner we can go home, isn’t that what you want?” He asks and I nod. “Then no more touching, yeah?” He squeezes my thigh slightly. “Yes Sir.” I nod with a smirk, pulling his chest to press against mine as I rest on him. He grumbled a curse at the nickname, adjusting his hips beneath me.

I knew better than to go against his word, knew whatever work he was doing was important but— was it more important than me? I wrap my arms around him a little tighter, pushing those selfish thoughts away. I release a frustrated sigh, nuzzling my nose into the space between his neck and the collar of his black shirt, getting overwhelmed with the scent of cedar and night-chilled mist, as well as a small undertone of vanilla from when I washed his hair with my shampoo in the shower last night. My fingers weave into his dark waves, not thinking anything of it as I begin to scratch his scalp soothingly, running my hands through his black locks with a soft hum.

He sighs and sets his pen down, hands coming to my waist and lifting me onto the desk. My brows crease as I look at him with a soft expression. “What’d I just say, love?” He reprimands me in a light tone and I look away shamefully. His fingers come to the underside of my chin, tilting my head back towards him. “Answer me,” He raises his brows slightly. “You said not to distract you,” I mutter and he nods, hand moving from my chin to cup my jaw. “Do you think you can behave or do we need to go home?” He asks and I swallow thickly. I knew this was important, but gods did I need him, my body craved him— I was being selfish. “I’ll be good, promise.” I nod, nails digging into the desk slightly with the way his eyes drink me in. “Okay,” His gaze lingers on me for a beat longer before he pulls me back into his lap.

This time I stay purely still, hyper-aware of my movements as well as his, making sure to keep my hands rested on his shoulders and trying to ignore his large hands cradling my lower back, and my hips. His hand had somehow traveled beneath my blouse and began tracing shapes on my bare back, spelling out his name.

He released a soft sigh and leaned back in his chair, my head lifting from his shoulder as I looked at his weary expression. “All finished?” I ask excitedly and he nods with a content smile. “You work so hard.” I hum, hands coming to his cheeks, thumbs rubbing along his jaw. “I think when we get home I have a small reward planned for you.” I taunt and his arms wrap around me tighter. “Why wait until we get home?” He arches a brow and clears the papers on my desk before placing me down on it. “So needy,” I grin, leaning back against the dark wood as he stands, hovering over me, and the gaze in his eyes tells me it’d be a long night in the office indeed.

He wastes no time in pushing my overtly short skirt up, calloused hands gripping my thighs as he pulls me to the edge of his desk. His hands roamed higher, breath fanning over my neck as he sucked and bit at the most sensitive areas he could find, leaving marks I’d have to cover tomorrow. Just as his fingers were about to find my panty line the phone rang, I jumped at the sound and he groaned into my neck.

“Who the fuck is calling me,” He grumbled, my hand slipping into his hair as I tugged him away from the column of my throat. “Answer it Az,” I murmur and he looks at the phone with a cold stare before picking up the device and holding it to his ear

“What?” He gritted in a tone that made me fear for whoever was on the other end of the line. I hear a voice in reply but can’t make out any words. Azriel’s hands leave my body and he sighs, entirely annoyed. “Can’t you ask Cassian?” Azriel grumbles and I sit up on my elbows, watching him as he rolls his eyes at whatever the person on the phone is telling him. “Fine. I’ll be there in ten.” The dark-haired male grumbled before hanging up the phone. My shoulders slumped as I stared up at him.

“It was Rhys, he needs someone to watch Nyx— I’m apparently the emergency babysitter,” Azriel muttered, walking over to the coat rack and shrugging his jacket on, leaving me entirely needy on the desk. “I can drop you off at home first.” He informs while I walk over to him and rise onto my toes, pressing a kiss to his jaw.

“I’ll come with.” I grin at him. His gaze softens. “You don’t have to,” He shakes his head. “I want to,” I reassure. His eyes flick to the floor behind me. “Grab your shoes then.” He smiles and I rush to do as he says, slipping them on and walking over to him with a content expression. “I’ll make sure to treat you nicely all weekend then, okay?” He kisses the top of my ear and I nod. I knew that by treating me nicely, he meant we wouldn’t be leaving our bed.

General Taglist: @fxckmiup @olive-main @iluvyewman-blog @gaymistakeboi @glam-targaryen @going-through-shit @fauxdette @impossibelle @amara-moonlight @sarawritestories @tele86 @rogersbarnesxx @sandramalikstyles-blog @stinkinstuffie @azriels-shadowsinger @inloveallthetime @starsinyourseyes @sassyangel16

Azriel Taglist: @coolepowersthings @midnightsulfur @lovely-giggles @quiettuba @judig92 @ilovewarner45 @tothestarsandwhateverend @je-suis-prest-rachel @stqrgirlies-blog @cherryjain17 @cauldronboilme27 @brieflyclassymortal @call-me-a-fool

Comment a “💙” to be added to the general taglist!

Comment a “🖤” to be added to the Azriel taglist!

[gildedlead]

All of the Wayne kids’ favorite Leaguers: True and Real and Accurate

Dick: Wonder Woman! Bear with me. Please. I think Superman was his favorite BEFORE he met Clark. Once he learned how big of a dork he was, the magic was sort of lost, doubly so when Clark became his unofficial stepdad. Diana? She stayed cool. Not to mention that in his Robin days, she often humored whatever hare-brained impulses he’d get. Please picture Batman’s bewildered expression when he finds Dick dangling from the Watchtower light fixture he specifically designed to be impossible for him to reach. Diana just, -shrug- “He said please.” You threw him Diana. You threw that child. She’d probably still throw him if he asked nicely, hell, she’d probably do it even before he has to ask. It’s ‘Boy Wonder’, not ‘Boy Bat’.

Jason: Black Canary. ‘Wonder Woman is Jason’s fav’ believers PLEASE hear me out. I think that Diana is Jason’s favorite in a ‘celebrity crush’ way, but Dinah is Jason’s favorite in a ‘cool aunt’ way. He met her unofficially at the Watchtower, but actually started hanging out with her thanks to Roy. They both like motorcycles and kicking ass, plus Young Justice having Canary as a therapist melds well with my vision of her helping Jason heal. And I think she’s used to yelling at Bruce on Oliver’s behalf, so it’s no big to do it on Jason’s too.

Tim: The Flash! If Dinah is the cool aunt, Barry is the cool uncle. Guy that shows up at the function with all the best snacks. He might eat half of them himself but damn if he didn’t bring them. In all seriousness, Tim saw pretty great merit in knowing a forensics guy that he can basically talk to anytime he’s stumped with a case without having to go through the “sorry to wake you” song and dance. Barry occasionally gets unhinged texts that are in the vein of “hey can you go about ten minutes back in time and tell past me about _____”. They’re usually pretty low stakes but sometimes there’s just a “got stabbed, do-over?” jumpscare sprinkled in. Bruce will never ever get shit from Barry about kid troubles. That man is a saint in Flash’s eyes.

Cass: Captain Marvel. She didn’t like him at all during their first meeting. For a person that’s good at reading body language, I imagine that seeing genuinely childish behavior on a grown man would be giving some crazy mixed signals. Once she learns that his powers are magic in origin rather than being alien or meta, her mind opens up a little more to the possibility that his exterior appearance might not be indicative of his actual identity. Cass guesses his age by their next proper meeting and makes it her business to keep an eye on him, always asking Bruce about him after he returns from League missions. Your honor, that 7’5” brick wall Champion of Magic is actually just Cass’ little buddy. She’s gonna get him some ice cream or something.

Steph: Green Lantern. Hal and Barry are like uncles, except if Barry is the cool one, Hal is the cringe one. Lucky for Hal, being a boyfailure is a good way to amuse Steph. Those two are gonna spend hours arguing with Bruce just for the hell of it, backing each other up on completely incorrect claims (Steph does it because it’s funny, Hal does it because he believes her). He does get bonus points for bringing her cool space snacks whenever he comes back from trips off-world. One of her favorite foods is a sort of hi-chew/gum thing from some other planet in Sector 2418 that doesn’t dissolve or lose its flavor, even after chewing it for days on end.

Damian: Aquaman. He’s a king. Like, an actual king. And he can communicate with fish. Arthur heard about Damian’s temper from the rest of the Leaguers and straight up does not believe it because every time he’s spoken to Damian, it’s been “hello your majesty can you introduce me to an octopus I have a few questions for it”. This one’s short. But I feel it speaks for itself.

Duke: Superman. Clark was NOT told about Signal taking up the day shift in Gotham until he was flying in to compare notes (read: flirt), with Bruce and met Duke when they both went to intercept a carjacking. Clark tries to be responsible like “I feel obligated to let you know that Batman doesn’t take kindly to metas in his city”, only for Duke to point at the big ol bat on his chest. After that, Duke usually intercepts Big Blue’s flight path anytime he comes into Gotham and the two just kind of hang out and shoot the shit while he does his patrol. Duke is also a little bit stoked to be regularly hanging out with The Superman, but even after the awe wears off, he can’t help but still think of Clark as just a cool, friendly guy. He gets someone to share the airspace with, Clark gets a bat he can stay in the sun with, it’s a win/win all around. Congrats Clark, you got one.

[iloafeu]

💬 05 MAYBE I AM THE PROBLEM

your eyes slowly fluttered open when the sound of your ringtone starts blaring through your room. groaning a bit, you grab your phone off the charger and answer the call without even checking who it is.

"hello?.." your voice was raspy and low from just waking up, but you don't even think you're even fully awake right now.

"hi y/n- wait, did you just wake up? do you know what time it is?" lumines worried voice wavers through your phones speaker, you quickly take notice of the background noise that indicates that she's currently driving.

"uhuh.. It's like, eleven." you answer

"no, silly, it's 3:30pm" you hear a soft chuckle come through your phone.

a quick 'oh' dumbly leaves your mouth before you go quiet for a moment, you don't even remember what time you went to bed last night.

"... did you stay up looking at those posts?"

to say no would mean you were lying to her. you just couldn't help it, the amount of hate you got in the past not even 24 hours was just to hard not to look at. maybe you should of stayed ignorant because all you remember is going to bed with 20 new insecurities.

lumine takes your deafening silence as a yes and sighs "n/n, please try to stay away from your socials- actually, stay away from your phone for the next few days. its the best you can do for your mental health."

"but how am I gonna finish hunter x hunter...?" you jokingly whine

"you have a computer and a tv, you're more than able to finish your show." lumine corrects you.

"I guess..."

you can't see it but she rolls her eyes at your childish whining before replying "I'm on my way back to campus, I went to the store and I have some of your favorites with me right now. I'll be over in like 20 minutes and we can watch hunter x hunter together, okay?" she comforts, she was always good at doing that.

"lumine can we honestly edate-"

"no."

"aw."

after finishing your conversation with lumine and the call ends, you immediately notice the hundreds of notifications overflowing on your lockscreen.

it wouldn't hurt to take one last peek right?

synopsis ★ you and your friends start a stream where they have to dare you anything to their desire due to you losing a bet. It was going fine for the most of it, some of them just being silly and petty but one strikes a dare that started everything.

TAGLIST (I'd prefer it if you asked through inbox/asks! bolded if not able to tag) @sketcheeee @samyayaya @featuredtofu @sukunasrealgf @venusflwers @eunchaeluvr @theblueblub @the-ghost-0f-t0m0 @yukiipc @yuumaofc @onmywaytoteyvat @enviouspeanut @angel-antidote @rifran @reinoodle @aeongiies @crystal-wayyy @yuminako @thenightsflower @meigalaxy @scaramoo @phoenix-eclipses @etherisy @justawalkingdisaster @yukii-1 @zephestia @vcvoxu @atlaincorrect @ainnofinway @dazaisboner @angeilix @itssagelinnea @ruhaxol @b2tr09 @to-mi-yo @auroratumbles

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[talesofesther]

pretty secrets

Wednesday Addams x Reader

This story belongs to the Sweet Calamity universe and is set before chapter 10 (but can also be read as a stand-alone)

Summary: Wednesday thinks you're hiding something from her, and she doesn't like when it starts to rob her of her time with you.

A/N: Hi, yes, here's me procrastinating on other projects just to write this boatload of fluff.

Masterlist

You've been acting secretive lately.

To anyone less aware, it might go unnoticed. But Wednesday had sharp senses.

And when regarding the subject of her affections, her senses are extra sharp.

The changes started a little over a week ago. You'd say you're busy after classes yet not tell her why; you won't allow her into your dorm anymore or, if you do, you always need a few minutes alone to 'tidy it up'; and she once caught you and Enid gossiping around, big smiles on your faces — especially yours — though when she asked what it was about, you changed the subject before giving her a definitive answer.

It's meaningless to worry about it, childish even, yet it bothers the Addams girl. She feels as if there's a small barrier between you that shouldn't have been there anymore.

She, of course, would never let you know about it.

"We happen to have a common free period after lunch today," Wednesday informed you out of the blue, keeping a steady hold of the Hibiscus flower as you carefully plucked out its petals — for someone who loves nature, Wednesday was strangely surprised when she learned you were willing to 'destroy' it, in order to make tea.

You froze your motions with the tweezers as you glanced up at her, "yeah?"

Wednesday nodded once, shifting her gaze to the flower when she felt a familiar distant warmth on her cheeks, "maybe we could enjoy it together, coffee perhaps?"

Wind came through the open doors of the greenhouse, rustling the many leaves around, along with a few rogue wisps of your hair that Wednesday was itching to brush back. The place inside the glass walls and amidst the plants became as much of a safe haven for Wednesday as it was for you.

You gave her what was half a smile and half a grimace, raising your hand to tuck your hair behind your ear; "I won't be able to, I'm sorry."

There was no denying the sudden melancholy in Wednesday's features. The adorable pout on her lips.

"We could go tomorrow, though." Under the table, you bumped her boots with your sneakers, trying to get her eyes to meet yours again.

Running her thumb over one of the few remaining burgundy petals of the flower, Wednesday sighed, her dark eyes cast down, "of course, mi flor, however you prefer."

—

Wednesday Addams walking around Nevermore's hallways on nothing but her dark long-sleeve pajama shirt, black and white polka-dot pants and hair up in a bun was a sight to be seen, luckily no one would be out at this hour — and if she did bump into someone, she would just have to kill them.

But she didn't have many options. She couldn't sleep.

Her talk with you from earlier still bugged her, making her glare at her ceiling as if it personally offended her whilst most unkind scenarios popped up in her mind. Didn't you enjoy her company anymore? Were you unhappy with your relationship and slowly pulling away?

She had to know, and there was no way she'd be waiting until morning so she could ask like a normal person.

Wednesday knocked on your door and you answered rather quickly, indicating that you too, were still awake at past one in the morning.

"Hi," your smile was instant when you saw her on the other side of the door, biting back a comment about her rather adorable clothes, choosing instead to stash the sight on your best memories, "is everything okay?"

"May I come in?" Was all Wednesday asked.

You hesitated, "uh- yeah, just a second."

Wednesday saw herself, yet again, having a staring contest with the dark wood of your door while you most likely hid something from her. She tried to ignore the unpleasant twisting of her stomach.

You opened the door again not a minute later, motioning her in and closing it back again after she was inside.

Maybe it was because your soul could read her heartbeats as if they were a favorite book, but Wednesday appreciates that she sometimes doesn't have to say a word for you to know.

You came into her space slowly, giving her all the time to tell you otherwise. Wednesday instead took the tiniest step toward you, her gaze going down and back up to your eyes.

With a gentleness only she witnessed, you raised your hands to both her cheeks, gingerly pushing back the longer strands of her fringe; your fingers tracing her cheeks and raising the hair at the back of her neck. You then leaned up until your lips could leave the faintest of kisses on Wednesday's forehead.

Her eyes fell closed the second your skin touched hers, like the perfect spell.

When you pulled back, your hands traced their path down until you held onto her own. Your fingers intertwining.

"What's bothering you?"

Wednesday's eyes blinked open lazily, her mouth dry because of the tenderness you gifted her with.

"Have you been… unhappy with us?" Wednesday asked, sounding the most hesitant you ever heard her.

You frowned as if she spoke in a foreign language you had no idea on how to begin understanding; "of course not, why would you say that?"

Setting her jaw tightly in place, Wednesday chooses to focus on your dirty sneakers haphazardly resting near the door instead of your eyes. "You don't seem to want to spend time together anymore, and I feel you're not telling me something."

You couldn't help but grin, because how foolish of you to think she wouldn't notice.

"If you're unhappy, you must tell me," she pressed, taking another step closer to you as her hands gripped yours tighter, "I know I'm not the… perfect partner but-"

"You are," you interrupted her in the same heartbeat, bringing one of her hands up to your lips so you could kiss her knuckles, "and there's no one that could make me happier," you promised against her skin before letting go, walking around her and to your wardrobe.

Wednesday watched with a deep frown as you shuffled through your stuff, her skin still tingling.

"I was going to wait to give you this on a more… special occasion," you told her, biting onto your lip as you looked at your creation in your hands, your heart beating loudly in your chest. With a deep breath in, you turned to face Wednesday again, "but since you're so impatient," you teased, "I guess now is as good a time as any."

The moonlight coming through your window illuminated it perfectly. Vines and tiny branches formed the perfect shape of a crow, little bits of it still adorning moss and small leaves but it added character; on its beak, it held a tiny basket made of the same material — undoubtedly by your skilled hands — inside it, rested a little potted cactus.

You extended the gift for Wednesday, holding onto your breath as you watched her wide eyes move from your face to your hands and back. "I made it for you," you encouraged shyly.

With careful hands, Wednesday took her gift. Her fingers traced over the shape of the bird as she still strived to come up with words.

"I will admit that I got a little excited about finishing it," you chuckled timidly, "I'm sorry it got a bit in the way of our time together."

Few people have gifted Wednesday with something so 'simple' yet so meaningful, this was the result of probably hours of work for you, and you did it for her.

"Now you'll always have a piece of me in your room too," you told her with a fond gaze.

Wednesday glanced back up at you with the beginnings of a smile threatening to show on her lips.

You scrunched your nose, "cheesy, I know."

Whatever unkind thoughts Wednesday had in her mind were vanquished right away, replaced instead by a nauseating emotion she couldn't get enough of.

Carefully placing the gift on your nightstand, Wednesday took meaningful steps toward you until she could take hold of your waist and her lips were just a breath away from yours. "I'll treasure it forever," she said quietly, like a secret against your lips.

She had no intentions of going back to her room for the night.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keep me motivated to continue posting here, so I'd appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment if you want. <3

Wednesday’s taglist: @milkiane @bookfrog242 @heelaechan @imagine-reblog @sakurarukas @bluetreecloud20 @the-night-owl-blr @imlike-so-gaydude @jjsmaybank20 @dreifhraniquo29 @emeraldevan @simp4nat @boobabietch @impossibleliv1031 @deadpool-in-a-snood @rainbow-love4ever @pompompuri @halleest @wandaromanova @marveloussimp @rainbow-hedgehog @left-and-right-up-and-down @get-the-fuck-outta-here @awolfcsworld @elduster @alexkolax @georgi-salva @imdumbhi @youralphawolf72 @reginassweetheart @justyourwritter69 @yangsroboarmm @8e-h-e8 @irish-piece-of-trash @femalehomosexual666 @wol-fica @wednesdays-woes @vorsdany @v1ci0us @the-nightshades-library @tundra1029 @aahdiieb @greyscxle-is-taken

[sanest-bsd-delegate]

IRL MEETS WITH DAZAI, SIGMA AND FYODOR

Headcanon: How I imagine you and the boys meeting after being online friends Genre: Crack A/N: Still questioning why i tried writing this... Warning? Bad grammer and 0 proofread →Masterlist

Dazai:

You both pretty much met on twitter when you were concerning who was behind the chuuya hate acc 🤩 I mean who can hate chuuya?

you probably were a new member in the mafia for not knowing about THE Dazai oSaMU

or you were a member of Detective agency dense enough to know that they both were infact enemies and not enemies soon to be lovers 🤩🤩😔🏳️‍🌈

OR You were a freelancer fresh college passout student who was wasting their time online getting blocked by 12 year old kids 🤩😋that was until you accidentally befriend him

successfully had 6th month friendaversy. 🤩🤩

when you both exchanged your place of residence you were shocked to know there are actually useless people in Japan apart from you

OR You were just concerned to know that he used to stay up late at night to talk to you while you message him in between work hours. 🤩🤩Dazai is such a romantic mood NGL

AHHHH Its the day of THE friends meeting.

You lowkey regret befriending him.

He probably sends you discord kitten memes and his hand pics for no reason. [BUT CSN WE TALK ABOUT HIS HANDS-!!?]

Mf once tried to video call you when you specifically told him NOT to.

He was blocked for a whole week before someone named 'iaminlovewithdeathtoes' spammed you.

🤡honestly you realised you both never shared your name, so pretty much to arrived at the meetup place, thinking of ways how to say 'chuuyahater6fttall' and knowing him, he prob would have you come over the agency cause bitch is lazy asf.

Dingdong you arrive at Yokohama or pretty much at the agency 🤩🤗except you were shitting in your pants cause what the actual fuck. So the person you talked with, who encouraged all kind of illegal stuff and told you to shoplift and send a pic was actually a detective??? Nah dawg you wished he was a lowkey an accountant cause which detective will have so much time to be online and chat?

boi you were wrong. And to have cherry on the top, you bumped into a brown coat bearing man who looked like he was high on nuts. But damn he looked hot

did you say "sir please scream me without the s 🥺" to yourself? Did he hear it? probably

🤩boom your headphones got disconnected for a moment and the whole agency went silent as the lyrics of "good lookin" started to play.

The man infront of you laughs before kidnapping you and dragging you out of the agency, a queue of screams and shouts for the man to comeback and you desperately trying to switch off your phone. (🤩🤗The lyrics were blasting through the area)

honestly you didn't mind as long as he turns out to be those Wattpad overprotective mafia bosses 🤩🤩🤗🌟 so you can have ur Y/N moment

'Help I am getting kidnapped by brown coat man and am left all alone' you typed, as the three dots indicated that chuuyahater typing before he replied, 'I am the man'

The way you audibly screeched as your turn back and your hand automatically made a way to his face to give him a slap. (🤩You heard laughing in the background, it was chuuya fyi)

"Aww belladonna, I thought you loved me" "THAT DOESN'T MEAN YOU KIDNAP ME AND MAKE ME STAND ON TOP OF A HIGHASS BUILDING" "But you agreed to do it once we meet!"

Oh he was serious when he said that 🤡

You ran away as fast as you can away from him, as you typed

'you are a bitch you know that?' 'And you are really beautiful you know that?'

😍🤩 you were greatful to get away from him, except he was knocking at you door (hotel door if u came from other part of the world) at 3am playing THAT part of the song "redbone by childish gambino" (iykwim) outside your door

Sigma

you both honestly never befriended.

You accidentally messaged him asking him to deliver you a pizza

🤩and when he replied with 'wrong number' you lost your shit. 'The fuck you mean wrong number you son of a-' 'Dont have one?'

Sigma maybe anxious in real life but online? Pretty sure he is a full on sassy sarcastic not so sweet Sigma (respectfully)

You both might have had a very professional verbal conversation over phone that day.

He and you might have bonded yet again when you, my dear reader accidentally send him a meme you were suppose to send someone else (guess who) and Sigma lost his shit.

Why was na unknown number, with memory of a snail sending him 20 pictures of a fisheye doll at 3am in the morning?

'Are you okay-?' He probably asked, 'Do I look sane?' you probably answered.

😭 but lowkey thinks that you both exchanged your insta Ids or smthg.

😡😡He didn't even acknowledge your following and never followed you back. 😔 rip your follower count

You spam him with reels and he? REPLIES TO ALL OF THEM LIKE GOOD BLESS THIS MAN TO RUN A WHOLEASS CASINO AND STILL HAVE TIME TO WATCH YOUR REELS

You would rant to him and he will listen 100%

Pretty sure you never tired to meet up. It was your ass being dragged by one of your friends to accompany them to a flying casino and get bankrupt.

Prob msged him saying how edible the manager of the place you went looked😭😭 (you didn't tell him u went to a casino so)

He replies with 'go get your man and stop telling me details about his hands'

And so you did, pretty much used your luck and became the star of Casino😡😡

Society validation? Nah 👎 but Casino manager acknowledge? Yah 👍

Now the thing is, Sigma probably got really indulged on how you managed to beat records that he spent time doing a background check rather then opening his phone and seeing your 99+ texts.

You on the other hand? Went wild. Your online friend wasn't responding!!!?? 😡😡 and you were telling him the tea how the manager put his hand on your shoulder acknowledging you.

Little did you know, you were so blinded texting 'the casino manager' You failed to realise you bumped into him.

phone drop, heart stop screen crack, gave you a heart attack.

worst part? The 'Manager' picked up your phone, looking down at the chat only to see his pfp and his contact named "Pizzah Guz" and your half written text of 'Where are you, I miss talking to| '

You were whereas unsure whether to feel embarrass or cry. You see his face only to realise the amount of shock you gave to the manager.

😭😭Pretty sure it took some time for him to cool down.

BUT I THINK he totally appears in front of your room, with a pizza guy costume and a box full of pizza, messaging you 'Open your door'

You were a little freaked out by his message. I mean Imagine texting a random guy and the only thing you know about him is that he is not a pizza guy and he tells you to open your door?

You open your door to see the manager in a pizza delivery guy uniform, a pizza in his hands while he holds his phone together, before he hands it over to you, before your phone notification tings, your online friend sends an image capturing 'Pizza delivery'

You fainted on the spot of pure embarrassment and realisation when you realise you were texting the manager while simping on him and describing details.

Or you just take the pizza and close the door, switch off and throw your phone on the bed and eat the pizza while the realisation hits.

Fyodor:

You both probably met on discord while bullying middle schools for their pfp choices 😭

10/10 had bombing conversation 👁️👄👁️ that is until you realise he was serious about it.

You be joking about how you will learn hacking to hack him and that moment all your dms get 'Join the rat cult' Picture.

😭😭please idts you met physically…like the possibility of fyodor arriving at your doorstep while you are half asleep eating a pizza and watching TV is insane.

Imagine you peep through the peephole and see fisheye fyodor 🤩🤩 10/10 scared

Online friend? Nah man he is your offline terrorist. That was until his wholeass body blewup and the only thing that was left was his arm from which he used to type to your responses from.

10/10 Power of Love and friendship

I feel like whenever you both VC, your silly self will try to use the soundboard and he probably vibe to it.

You both accidently made a cult.

Fyodor NGL prob just stalked you out of boredom.

Nikolai probably be backreading your chats and the next day you have a new coworker named "Fyolaya"

Honestly there is a possibility that fyodor has zero interest in meetup and then bam Nikolai scopes you in the middle of your work and drop you on fyodor's lap🤩

Imagine the tension when you, a average worker in the society lands on the lap of one of THE Doa members

Y/N x hot mafia boss who kidnaps Y/N accidentally cause Y/N met his man au? Terrorist edition?

You living a Wattpad life? Possibilly

A/N: Look i am sane

TAGLIST: @averagehisoilluenjoyer, @high-on-dazai @ruru-kiss Join or remove your user here.

[iikatsukii]

betray, believe.

synopsis: you are beyond pissed off at ao’nung for leaving your twin outside the reefs. how can you trust someone who continues to betray you?

pairings: ao’nung x loak’stwin!reader

warnings: cussin’ thats it. oh and minor violence and one a drop of blood.

word count: 2.9k

a/n: yall i don't know what this is so please don't ask

you had felt stabbed in the back before. it isn't a pleasant feeling when you trust someone and they end up betraying you. but no matter how in love with ao'nung you were. this was the final straw for you. 

you had been crying all day, arguing with and avoiding ao'nung because your twin, lo'ak, was missing. 

"ao'nung, leave me alone!!" you screamed over your shoulder, walking away from the metkayina boy who was trying to walk after you. 

"y/n, please just listen to me. it was a mistake. it was meant to be a harmless prank–" you cut him off, appalled by what he was saying.

"mistake? harmless prank? leaving my twin brother outside the reef was a fucking joke to you, ao'nung? in case you do not fucking remember, WE ARE NOT FROM HERE! we do not know how to get around, and we do not know the outside of the reefs!! so how the fuck did you even think that he would be able to find his way back? let alone defend himself with no weapon! did you even think before you did this? did you think about how i would've felt if he got hurt–?" every curse word was punctuated with a shove to ao'nung's chest, but you couldn't even finish your sentence, getting choked up at the thought of your brother being hurt. more than sad, you were furious. 

you had told ao'nung time and time again that you wanted to give him a chance but that he had to get over the childish beef he had with your twin brother lo'ak and your sister kiri. he would repeatedly promise to leave them alone, and you would foolishly believe him. every single time one of your siblings came back, telling you that ao'nung had messed with them, it felt like you were being stabbed in the back all over again. it didn't feel good, and you ensured that you gave the boy an earful after every incident.

but this time was different. 

ao'nung had left your twin outside the reef, alone, with no weapons and no way home. lo'aks ilu showed up injured earlier, the healers immediately trying to tend to its wounds. however, the imagery of the blood trailing behind the ilu could only bring paranoid thoughts to your head. 

if his ilu barely made it alive. then what happened to your brother. 

the boy who had fallen head over heels for you was conflicted. of course, he wasn't thinking about how you would've felt. he was just thinking about getting back at your brother for the brawl they had earlier. but never in a million years did he think you would've reacted this bad. granted, your reaction was 100% valid. if someone he loved had done this to his sister, he wouldn't have even given them a chance to ask for forgiveness. yet here you were, willingly arguing with him, giving him a chance to explain himself even though he knows all his sorrys and pleas are falling on deaf ears.

"y/n, i am sorry. i will do anything. please just let me explain." ao'nung was desperate. you had been like a breath of fresh air the second he spoke to you. he has never found anything that's made him happier than you. he couldn't lose you because of a stupid mistake. 

before you could say another word, the horns of the clan were blown, indicating the missing person had been found. you couldn't tell if your heart sank or grew warm. 

he's okay

your brother is back, and he's alive. he's okay

you ran to where you noticed villagers gathering, seeing lo'ak thanking the man for returning him to shore. 

"lo'ak," you called, running over to your twin, pulling him into the tightest hug possible before hearing him wince, pulling back just as fast. 

"oh my gosh, are you okay? are you hurt?" right now, you felt more like lo'ak's mom than his twin sister, but it made him happy to see that someone had actually been worried about him being gone. ignoring your question, lo'ak rested a hand on the back of your head, bringing your face to his chest as he pet your head, soothing the sobs you left out. 

"i'm sorry for worrying you, baby sister." lo'ak said, looking down at you. in all honesty, he was just as worried about you as you were about him. all he could think about was if they were messing with you and kiri while he was abandoned out at sea.

you scoffed, pushing your brother back. "i'm not a baby; we're twins." 

your conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the chief, his wife, and his son. you glared at ao'nung, ready to out him for his actions, but your brother, face looking just as mad as you, started walking towards the boy who had faced your rage earlier. your father was quick to get to the scene, though, preventing lo'ak from doing anything stupid.

"woah, woah, let me get a look at you, yeah?" barely briefly looking over his son, jake spoke to the people once more. "he's fine! just a few scratches." your father announced, causing you to roll your eyes. your mother approaches swiftly to see her youngest son standing, alive and safe.

"i pray for the strength that i will not pluck the eyeballs out of my youngest son–" but you cut your mother, startling everyone. 

"lo'ak has done nothing wrong," you said out loud. "this was not his fault, and you will not punish him for something that is someone else's wrongdoing," you said, making eye contact with ao'nung as you spoke. 

"y/n is right. my son knows better than to take him outside the reef." tonowari pushed his son down by his neck, the boy kneeling in apology. "the blame is his."

you sighed, happy that tonowari wasn't making this a bigger issue than it needed to be. you were ready to hear ao'nung's apology until you heard a different voice speak up.

"no. this is not ao'nungs fault. this was my idea. he tried to talk me out of it. really–" your brother spoke up.

"really? lo'ak te suli tsyeyk'itan do not say lies. he took you there and left you defenseless, knowing you know nothing about the reefs. it is his fault alone, and i will not allow you to take the blame for this." you were stubborn. why was lo'ak trying to take the blame?

"no, y/n. it was me– AH!" jake grabbed lo'ak's arm way harder than necessary. 

"this was your idea, boy–" jake was cut off by a loud hiss, unsure of where it had come from until he looked towards you. your fangs were bared, and your eyes shot knives into your father's. 

you had never hissed before. never a day in your life. unlike the rest of your family, you always wanted to choose peace over war. but for your brother, you would go to war and back if it meant protecting him. you were tired of how your father treated you like his perfect little princess but then treated your twin like he was nothing but scum to this family. your hiss shocked everyone; it was vicious, cruel, and protective. not many noticed, but you even had your hand near your bone knife, ready to draw it if your dad decided to test your resolve anymore. 

"let him go. you are not about to take him home so you can degrade him like you have done every single day of his life." your voice dripped with malice, 100% directed toward your father. everyone around you remained speechless. "how can you call yourself a father when all you do is give your children orders. this is a fucking family, and until you get that through that thick ass skull of yours, you may not lay another hand on my brother, so i suggest you remove your hand before i do it for you, jake sully," calling your father by his real name is what turned on the lights on jakes brain. he started to realize how orderly he treated his kids, never really allowing them to be kids. 

the target of your rage changed quickly as you grabbed your bone knife, turned, and pounced on ao'nung. the boy lands on his back, his hands up in surrender as you held your knife to his neck. nobody bothered to try to remove you from the boy, deeming you out of control and not wanting you to unnecessarily injure anyone. ronal saw how tonowari was going to remove you from his son but halted his actions.

"–and you, ao'nung, how can you call yourself the future leader of this clan when you put the lives of innocent people who seek refuge in your clan in anger? is this what the metkayina are to expect of their future leader? how could you endanger someone who has no knowledge of life in the water? hm? what would you have done if he died ao'nung? because i sure know what i would've done if he had–" you said, pressing your knife into his neck harder, noticing crimson starting to reach the surface. before you could do any real damage, your mother pulled you off the boy. 

"excuse us." neytiri said as she dragged her twins home into their mauri. she pulled all the curtains, closing all the flaps, so their family could have some privacy. 

"are you crazy!!? holding a knife to the olo'eyktans' son's neck!? are you trying to get us kicked out of this clan?!" your mother scolded, hitting you upside your head. you hissed back at her, pissed that she even had the nerve to question your actions right now. 

"why are you always so concerned with reputation and practice and people. WORRY ABOUT YOUR DAMN KIDS. LO'AK COULDVE DIED," you yelled back. 

"he didn't. he's fine-" your father tried to interject, but you interrupted him.

"and that's exactly your fucking problem, sully. he. could. have. died. and all you can think of is 'well he didn't. he's fine' FUCK THAT. YOU DON'T CARE THAT YOU ALMOST LOST YOUR SON?!" you asked the man before you, who you were beyond pissed off at.

"i do care, y/n. also, i am your father. watch how you speak to me, young lady."

"if you're a father, then fucking act like one instead of acting like quaritch. if you wanna be a man who gives orders and doesn't care about the lives of others, then fine. but i am done. WE are done," you finished your sentence, grabbing your brother's wrist as the two of you called for your ilus. lo'ak said he wanted to show you something, so the two of you swam back out to three brothers rock. 

that night you met payakan, and both you and lo'ak bonded with the tulkun.

the next few days came and went, and you felt like things were starting to change. 

your father apologized to all of you. he called a family meeting, apologizing to each of his kids individually for his wrongdoings as a father. not only did he apologize, though, but he also started being a father. he would go hunting with neteyam, focusing on enjoying time with his son rather than correcting his form and nagging him for missing a shot. he would go with kiri to the spirit tree so she could connect to it just so he could make sure she was safe. he would play on the beach with tuk, splashing around with her, playing any silly games she asked him to play. 

you felt like a family. he had especially been trying to make it up to you and lo'ak, your brother, more than you. it was a bit weird for lo'ak at first, but once he got comfortable, they were inseparable. 

now that all is right with your family, it gives you more time to think about yourself and the empty feeling in your heart. you sat alone on the shore, allowing the tide to brush against your legs as you stared into the sea.

"y/n," the voice was one you hadn't heard in a while. mainly because you had been avoiding the boy, but you knew this intervention was inevitable. 

"what do you want, fish boy." hearing you call him by the old insult you used to call him hurt, but he didn't comment on it because he knew he deserved it. 

"i know my apologies mean nothing to you. but please just hear me out. i promise after this, if you really want, i won't ever speak to you again, just let me make peace with you. please," you could hear how hoarse his voice was, almost as if he had been crying before he got here. you turned to look at him, his red puffy eyes confirming your suspicions. 

"you have sixty seconds to explain yourself," you told the boy, not really in the mood to hear his excuses. when you noticed he hadn't moved from where he stood, you looked over your shoulder. 

"fifty-nine…" you said menacingly, but it got the boy out of whatever trance he was in. he quickly came to sit next to you, clearing his throat as he began to speak. 

"sevin, look, i am so sorry, okay? i know that means nothing to you right now, but i really do mean it." the boy started. his hand came up to the bandage on his neck, bringing him back to that night. he wasn't the slightest bit upset that you had almost killed him. in fact, he was about to accept fate had you dragged the knife across his throat. "i have been thinking about what you said that night, and you are right. to behave like that as someone who is supposed to lead this clan is unacceptable. i made sure my father issued the proper punishments for myself and the guys who helped me." you scoffed, rolling your eyes at his words. so what? he got punished. if it were up to you, you would've taken his ass to the forest and left him there, just like he did your brother, to give him a taste of his own medicine. 

"i have also been training like crazy because i want to be an olo'eyktan worthy of serving and protecting my people and my family. i want to be worthy enough to protect you. so please let me prove myself to you. y/n, you are the light of my life. from the day you got here, i have been drawn to you, so please let me earn your forgiveness." he said, putting a hand on your shoulder. you shrugged him off, shying away, not wanting to meet his eyes. 

and then his hand guided your chin, turning your face so the two of you made eye contact. 

"let me earn you, y/n. i will court you the way an omatikayan man should–"

"you know nothing of the omatikaya ways." you hissed. there was no real bite to it as you processed his words. though you were still upset, you could see how genuine he was being. he really was trying, and you hated how your heart begged you to believe him this one last time.

"i will ask your father and your brothers for help. right after, i ask for their forgiveness and their blessing. i want to do this right, but only you're willing to let me." it felt like falling all over again. you were so internally conflicted, you wanted to hate him, but you wanted to love him. wanted to punch and kiss him. wanted to bury him but also marry him and have his kids. your brain and your heart were at war.

he's only lied to you.

but you're in love with him.

he's not trustworthy.

everyone makes mistakes.

who's to say he isn't lying now?

i can see it in his eyes.

"you're being honest?" you asked him breathlessly. 

you don't know when your body turned to face him or when you placed your hands on his cheeks, but it only helped you look into his eyes.

"i swear my life on it. i want nothing more than to make you happy, sevin. seeing you cry and upset, i never want to see you unhappy ever again. especially if it is my own doing." ao'nung made sure he didn't break eye contact with you so you could read into him, allowing himself to be an open book. 

"how did you know i would forgive you?" you asked, unsure of how he knew you would forgive him before you knew you would forgive him.

"you are wearing the apology gifts i have been sending you. the top, that bracelet, the shells in your hair. you even have the beads in your braids, sevin. i knew that even if you didn't realize, you still harbored a small bit of love for me, so i knew if i tried just one more time, maybe, just maybe, you would realize it too." you held the boy you loved close to you, sighing as your heart once again felt complete. 

"i am so sorry, sevin–"

"ao'nung, if you apologize to me one more time, i swear i will feed you to my ikran for lunch tomorrow," you said as you leaned against him. ao'nung hesitated for a second before allowing himself to relax against your touch. you had forgiven him, so there was no reason to be tense anymore. from here on, he had vowed to himself to never be the reason you wore anything a smile.

[unknownfortuna]

Your Dad

The Sun is an indicator of how the native views their Father. Below is a list of negative/positives you may have seen play out with your father figure.

*If you have these signs in your 10th House, these traits may manifest as well.*

Aries Sun- Quick tempered and most likely a physical disciplinarian. Due to Aries enjoying the sun, the manifestations can be incredibly bad/good. Your dad may have seemed a bit selfish at times when it came to him living an independent life from the family he created. He may have been seen as a leader in his family or the first to do something. This placement could also indicate he wasn't the type of person to do things half assed (unfinished projects? Sure) and he expected you to do things just as passionately if not better than others.

Taurus Sun- Beauty is important. Beauty is the first thing people see. That is what he placed a heavy emphasis on when it came to you. If your appearance was off, he would let you know (He may also carry incredibly traditional values when it comes to gender roles). Appearances matter and he would have wanted nothing more than for you to express the pretty privilege you had. As superficial as the relationship may seem at times with him, this is a fact you start to realize is true with others as well.

Gemini Sun- You may view your dad as incredibly charismatic but also superficial and a bit of a liar. Another trait that may play out is knowing multiple languages and being able to switch between them with ease. The relationship here may feel like there isn't much substance between the two of you. Conversations carry a jolly tone that doesn't always feel appropriate for what's actually going on between you two or the circumstances you're in.

Cancer Sun- Your dad is incredibly emotional. It seems a bit random when he starts to cry but then again, your also not surprised. He takes his role as the protector the family very seriously and wants nothing more than your emotional wellbeing to be at a high (if he's able to understand his own and provide that to others of course!). Mood swings may be a normal when it comes to him...which makes him a bit of a grump at times.

Leo Sun- Your dad truly views himself as the king of the house. This can obviously be either incredibly annoying (is more selfish, cares about appearances, huge ego) or a bit endearing (a motivational coach, knows how to boost you up, shares the spotlight with you). Having Leo in its home planet is an incredibly strong placement and may cause him to play a huge role in your life/upbringing. It may have even felt like he was your only true caretaker at times.

Virgo Sun- The perfectionism your dad holds within him can feel a bit daunting. While he may be quiet at times you know that is just him observing and critiquing in his mind. He sees details you would have never noticed before and points them out. You can't help but hold a similar serious tone and being highly critical with yourself. After all, your dad was the first to point out these flaws. On the flip side his humor can be a bit...Childish? I feel like Virgos themselves have a specific sense of humor and you may or may not get it but it's there. Libra Sun- Your relationship can feel a bit superficial with this placement. Libra is not at home here and above all it is just trying to please the people that come across this placement. A similar view you may have with your dad. He is able to be the mediator and negotiator with others BUT at the cost of his own individuality. He may place an emphasis on what other's opinions are especially with family. He may not be the dominant parent but for appearance's sake that's what is shown.

Scorpio Sun- This placement can indicate secrets surrounding your dad or over time you start to realize your perception of him is crumbling from the one you entered with. May have viewed him as manipulative or controlling when it came to your family members. Could cause an environment to change into an intense one. Held a lot of power in his hands when it came to the way everyone moved. There is a secret only you may know of him/found out before anyone else. Not necessarily because he himself trusted you but you happened to stumble upon it (just like everything else in your life). Sagittarius Sun- In some ways this relationship felt more like a mentor/mentee than a father/daughter. He was incredibly knowledgeable and tried to tell you all he knew about the world and how things worked. Whether it was agriculture or mechanics, he tried teaching you his trade. Unfortunately, he may have not been a stable figure in your life and at times would be absent or physically unavailable. Emotional circumstances felt odd with him and talking about actual feelings didn't ever seem like a viable option.

Capricorn Sun- A workaholic can manifest with this placement. He may have been the sole provider of the family and carried a heavy presence when he was home. Having him around may have possibly caused you to feel as though you were walking on egg shells. Also... did he give you random responsibilities when it seemed like you had too much fun? Like you were smiling a little TOO much? Probably can't ever say your bored around him. He can possibly carry a melancholic prescence around him as well.

Aquarius Sun- The confusion here is your dad is too hard to understand sometimes. Borderline hypocritical. Can enjoy humanitarian values without ever having the compassion balanced with it. It would be good if you could contribute to society...Without me showing you how to deal with your emotions. He can come across as alien like in many ways due to his opposing views. Keeps himself busy tinkering around with his hobby of choice. May come off as detached and in his own head or enjoying others company more than your own family. Can have some odd tastes...possibly with partners? (You may be a child of divorce/just straight up cheating). It doesn't get better with age... You just accept the enigma this man is.

Pisces Sun- You may have an absent dad. That can be taken in many ways both due to circumstances of life or him choosing to be absent. This can be a hint at him being an artist of some kind like writing, singing, poetry, painting, etc. He may be highly spiritual/religious and a big believer in life happening for reasons we may never know. Always gives this type of answer when asking for advice from him. While there may be a connection here, it can feel a bit fragile. As if anyone or anything can break the relationship you have with him (prone to misunderstandings on both sides).

'You can't go back and change the beginning, but you can start wherever you are and change the ending..'

[capseycartwright]

hello!! for the super soft intimacy prompts: nuzzling into their neck or petnames, if either sparks something? 🥰

Buck had – purposely – gone into his relationship with Eddie with no expectations. Okay, well, there had been a few expectations – love, and commitment, and long-term partnership – but he’d had no real expectations about what the day-to-day would look like. This was Eddie’s first relationship with a man, after a lifetime of repression and denial, and Buck knew those things were hard to unlearn. He also knew that navigating a romantic relationship with someone you’d shared a deep platonic connection with for so long wasn’t going to be plain sailing either – every relationship had its teething problems, and being in love – big, grown up, forever after kind of love – wasn’t going to change the fact that there was going to be an adjustment period.

Except, well –

Eddie was more affectionate than Buck had imagined, right from the beginning. It’s not that Eddie wasn’t an affectionate man – Eddie hugged Chris, every moment he could steal a squeeze from their almost-teenager, and Eddie looked at the people he loved with the kind of fondness in his eyes that made Buck’s heart melt down into his boots – but it felt different, being on the receiving end of Eddie’s romantic affection.

“Hi,” Buck couldn’t help but laugh, wrapping his arms around Eddie’s shoulders. He’d barely closed the front door, when he’d gotten an armful of Eddie Diaz, his boyfriend burying his face in the crook of Buck’s neck, as though he’d been aching to do so all day. He might well have, Buck realised – this was the first shift they’d worked apart since they’d started dating, for real, and Eddie’s endless stream of text chatter had been the first indication that Eddie had really missed him.

This had been the second.

Eddie’s breath was hot against Buck’s neck as he replied. “Hi,” he mumbled, the bare beginnings of his day-old scruff sending a shiver down Buck’s spine as Eddie nuzzled his face into the crook of Buck’s neck, the loose t-shirt Buck had thrown on leaving the station easily giving way to Eddie’s movements, leaving Buck’s neck exposed.

Buck sort of wanted to melt.

“Did you miss me?” Buck hummed, running his fingers through Eddie’s hair, delighting in the fact that he could just – do this whenever he wanted, now. There was no more longing, no aching to take what he couldn’t have – Eddie was his, and had been for weeks now, and had been for longer than Buck realised, and Buck could take, and take, and take, and Eddie was proving himself oh-so willing to give.

“I always miss you,” Eddie hummed, pressing a kiss to the undersize of Buck’s jaw. “Baby.”

Buck was pretty sure his spine had started to physically, actually melt. “Baby?”

Eddie pulled back, slightly, cheeks flushed with warmth as he looked at Buck. “I was trying it out for size,” he shrugged. He gave Buck a questioning look, clearly waiting, wondering how Buck felt about it.

“I like it,” Buck couldn’t help the childish flush that spread across his cheeks as he replied, admitting just how much he enjoyed the petname. He’d never been sure on petnames – they’d never been a thing, with Abby, and with Taylor, the rare occasions she’d used them had felt forced, and insincere, the word crumbling to dust in her mouth as she forced an occasional ‘babe’ – but he was sure, with Eddie. “Baby,” he added, grinning as Eddie smiled, the kind of big, wide smile that made his boyfriends eyes crinkle at the corners, as though Eddie was so happy that he didn’t have enough space in his body to contain the feeling.

Eddie pressed a kiss to the seam of Buck’s mouth, both of them smiling too much for it to be much of anything. “I love you,” he hummed, the words free, and easy, as if it was the most logical, simple, sensible thing in the world to be in love with Buck. It was, Buck knew – because loving Eddie back was the easiest thing in the world.

And he got to come home to this – an armful of Eddie and a soft ‘baby’ – after every long day and bad shift for the rest of his life. Buck was a damn lucky man. “I love you,” Buck breathed in reply. “I always miss you too, you know.”

[eoieopda]

redamancy (knj)

redamancy (n): a love returned in full

Kim Namjoon wasn't known for making wise decisions. He acted first and, on rare occasions, he asked questions later. The path he'd taken so far was left broken behind him, but the light at the end of that tunnel sure looked a hell of a lot like you.

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x Reader Type: One-Shot - sequel to lacuna Word Count: 5.5K Content: Established relationship AU; fluff but some angsty bits, i guess?; pov switches; smut (18+ - MINORS DNI) p in v pentration, shower sex, unprotected sex, multiple callbacks to lacuna, and a gratuitous cameo. A/N: Please read "lacuna" before proceeding! This is a sequel/epilogue, so the context is important. No spoilers, so my actual note will be at the end :) Listen to the playlist here! Tagging: @borahae-k @i-purple-buff-bunni @pamzn @myimaginationsrunningwild @nonbinary-demonbrat @yoongiphoria @bangtansmauyeondan @goddessjichu @ggukkiereads @dearly-somber @jihopesjoint @indgio @junsai-tree @persphonesorchid @mgthecat

Namjoon tucked his black marker into the pocket of his joggers with a sigh.

With the last box labeled, all he had to do was shove it in the corner with all his other possessions. In an instant, he could make it all the movers’ problem instead of his. He hesitated, though, and he didn’t know why.

That’s a lie, he thought, he absolutely knew why. It just felt so fucking childish to mourn a piece of real estate the way his heart seemed so inclined to. It was especially odd in his case because there were only fleeting moments where this artfully decorated apartment felt like a home; and not a museum he’d gotten locked in after failing to adhere to business hours.

There had been a lot of upheaval since he woke up in Yoongi’s guest bedroom with your bare body nestled against his. This was to be expected, after all. He’d blown up his life a year prior and just recklessly, maddeningly continued to set fire to the rubble. Now, he had to glue the pieces back together carefully.

What he broke could absolutely be rebuilt, but those cracks would still be visible, even once they were mended. The biggest of them — the nimbostratus cloud looming over that guest bedroom — was your impending flight back to Los Angeles, and the home you still had there.

Loving you was easy; it always had been. The logistics of loving you, however, had historically proven to be anything but.

Before you left, you said the pieces of your joint failures fell down like confetti. In reality, tying up all these loose ends felt more like cleaning up glitter. Reminders of his mistakes stuck everywhere. No matter how hard Namjoon swept, he always missed a spot. They stuck to him, catching the light.

This move was your clean slate.

If someone were to invade his brain now, they’d undoubtedly be alarmed by the tornado of nostalgia tearing ceaselessly through his thoughts. As it twisted, it uprooted everything and subsequently dumped it all in cardboard boxes. Namjoon was the spinning cow added for cinematic value, hanging on for dear life.

A hand clapped on his back, knocking him out of his thoughts and back into that empty bedroom.

“End of an era, eh?” Yoongi asked with his mouth still pressed to the lip of his coffee cup. He took another large gulp despite the scorching heat of its contents and he didn’t flinch.

“Yeah,” Namjoon conceded. It was a one-worded answer, but it spoke volumes. He didn’t need to look at Yoongi to see if he heard them all. The squeeze on Namjoon’s previously smacked shoulder indicated that he did.

This was where Namjoon decided that he loved you, not even four hours after meeting you. You looked at him then like no one ever had and he heard that cinematic record scratch. Then, the internal narration chimed in to give away the plot — that you were it for him.

Looking over the now-bare hardwood floor, his mind conjured you like a hologram: love-drunk in the corner, wearing his t-shirt and nothing else, serenading him with Whitney Houston’s “How Will I Know?” and using an empty soju bottle as a makeshift microphone.

He could hear it now and it gave him the same feeling he had then, like he was on an upswing and he would never come back down. He could hear himself, too, blushing red in the present at his past admission.

“I think I love you,” he’d said it so fast because it already felt like a reflex. A knee-jerk reaction that he couldn’t stop, so bat-shit and embarrassing because he’d only met you a few hours earlier.

Presently, he pictured your coy smile in that moment — the first time you’d graced him with it — and remembering your response had him warm all over.

“How sure are you? Enough to wager on it?”

“At least seventy-nine percent sure,” he’d responded immediately, which would become a habit of his, and relished in the way your eyes twinkled. So, you loved it when he’d buy into a bit — noted. He’d continued, no longer shy, “And yes, I would. All in.”

He could nearly feel the way your touch sparked against his hand once you’d skipped back and crawled over the mattress to settle in front of him. He’d prayed to a god he didn’t believe in that you’d do it again, and again, and again, running so eagerly into his arms.

“Then let’s make a deal, Joonie,” you’d smirked.

It was the first time anyone had called him that without being swiftly punched in the arm. It was the best that stupid nickname had ever sounded, coming out of your sweet mouth.

You’d tilted your head to the side and hummed with a thoughtful finger tapping at your chin, “Two years. If in two years’ time you realize that you were right — and you’re one-hundred percent sure — you’ll win a prize.”

He’d put his hand out to shake on it, but you’d swooped in with your fingers sliding through his hair. You’d kissed him instead and, against your soft lips, he’d mumbled, “Deal.”

Namjoon could’ve stood in that bedroom all day, watching the montage of you that somehow flickered against the bare white walls.

Yoongi seemed to sense this, though, and he intervened. After all, that’s precisely why Namjoon had brought him along: to keep him from getting lost on Memory Lane.

With a gentle pinch at Namjoon’s elbow, Yoongi nodded his head towards the doorway, “Movers will be here in ten. Anything left to pack?

Namjoon initially shook his head, but then he remembered. Fuck! Thank god — or whoever — for Yoongi, who stood there wide-eyed as Namjoon jerked forward and flew out the door.

He dashed to the kitchen and grabbed the only thing still there: his grandmother’s tea pot, bearing intricately painted cherry blossoms. He cradled it in his arms like a child on his way back to Yoongi, who was still standing where he was left. Still wide-eyed, too, like not enough time had passed for him to blink.

“I need you to keep track of this,” Namjoon confessed as he held out the teapot, “I know me and I know that I’ll break this if I’m the one responsible for it. Just — just don’t open it, okay?”

Without batting an eye — or heeding Namjoon’s words in any way whatsoever — Yoongi pulled off the lid and glanced inside. There was no change in his blank face, merely a tiny flex of his eyebrow that Namjoon just barely caught.

True to form, Yoongi asked no questions. His only response was, “You’re right. You would absolutely break this.”

Namjoon would’ve rolled his eyes if he wasn’t so distracted by his own pulse hammering away in his ears. “Right,” he muttered weakly.

“Ready to kiss this place goodbye?” Yoongi changed the subject after noticing how flustered Namjoon had become. He was alarmingly perceptive even when he wasn’t actively working to uncover Namjoon’s secrets.

Namjoon was — and wasn’t. He didn’t know how the fuck to feel, finishing a chapter so conclusively. In the past, all his endings had been ambiguous. They faded out, for the most part, so subtly that he didn’t notice right away.

All but one, that is.

Yoongi studied Namjoon’s face for one silent moment before landing a weightless punch on his bicep. His knuckles barely brushed him, but Namjoon felt it through his shirt, through his muscle, down to his bones. Then, without any response from Namjoon, Yoongi offered him a moment alone.

The apartment door clicked shut behind him. Though inherently quiet, it echoed loudly through the hallway and reverberated through every naked room on its way to Namjoon. As he stood there, silent and solitary, he realized how much he truly hated that sound. What it represented.

“So, is this it, then?” Your face told him that you knew the answer before you asked; but that you simply didn’t want to accept it.

He’d never seen you cry, save for the moments you laughed so hard that your eyes couldn’t contain your mirth. During sappy movies, maybe, but never because of sadness. Never because of him.

Namjoon had to stuff his hands in his pockets to keep them from reaching out to you.

He looked down at his shoes, nudged the rubber toe of one into the rug, then glanced back up at you. It was becoming increasingly impossible to look at you, but it felt so foreign not to.

He’d seen true sadness before — not from you, not until now — but your expression communicated something even deeper than that. Devastation, maybe? Whatever it was, it mingled with your mascara and spilled over your cheeks.

“I think it has to be,” his voice was thick when he replied, and it was a miracle he’d gotten the words out at all, “If you’re going to get everything you deserve in this life — everything you’ve worked so fucking hard for — I can’t be the thing that stands in your way.”

You were crying so hard that your sobs made his chest ache.

“I wanted all of it with you, Joonie, so badly,” You whimpered, then you wiped your leaking eyes on the excess sleeve clutched tight in your fingers, “I need you to know that. If we could’ve found a single way to make this work, I —“

When your voice gave up, his took over. “I know, baby,” and fuck, now he was crying too, “I would’ve lassoed the fucking moon for you if it could’ve made a difference.”

It hit him like a bullet train when you said it. As if you’d ever needed to ask.

“Can you kiss me one last time before I go?”

So, he did. Hard. And then, when you walked away, he let you.

Click.

Namjoon stayed frozen, staring into space, until he heard the movers clambering over the threshold.

You’d never seen more paperwork in your life.

Flipping through the binder, you were even more likely to stroke out than you were to get a paper cut. The sheer number of words made you dizzy; an insurmountable mountain of hangul. An avalanche, ready to overtake you.

After reading and signing for what felt like forty years, complaining all the while, you began to wonder: At what point would your brain simply give up and forget how to read as a form of protest? The thought was tempting — forgoing literacy entirely just to avoid this drawn-out task.

“I don’t understand,” you muttered, turning yet another page. You’d written your initials so many times that they stopped looking like real letters.

Maybe your brain was losing its capacity for language.

Jinseo furrowed her brows with such conviction, you could see them knit together in your peripheral vision, “I don’t know how much clearer I can make it. I’ve explained the terms to you no less than five-hundred times.”

You set down your pen and sat up to meet her exasperated eyes with a smirk, “No, not that. Your unsolicited lecture on contract law has me bar-exam ready.”

Jinseo’s mouth dropped open, always dramatic but never truly offended. You clarified, “I don’t understand why I can’t simply write smell you later on a post-it note, sign that, and be done with it.”

“Oh, I don’t mind all the time this is taking you,” Jinseo swapped out her shock for a wolfish grin, “It’s all billable, baby.”

At this, you rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t contain your laughter, “Unnie, don’t I get the friends-and-family rate?”

“Friends and family don’t forget the guacamole, sweet bean,” she chided you with her fork pointed teasingly at you.

With your attention finally secured, the fork directed your eyes down to the admittedly lackluster burrito bowl you’d traded for legal advice. Oops.

“You get what acquaintances and hot, divorce-seeking strangers get.”

“Which is what, exactly?”

“Me another margarita,” she purred. With a wink, she lifted her not-yet-empty glass from the table. “And when you’re done breaking up with Big Hit, you can talk me up to the owner of your new label.”

You slumped back in your seat while feigning hesitation. Sucking a breath in through your teeth, you sighed, “Yoongi? Well, I don’t know… He’s married to his work.”

At this, Jinseo quirked an eyebrow. “Did you not hear me about the whole hot, divorce-seeking strangers thing?”

“Menace,” you giggled.

Your laughter petered out too soon and an unexpectedly heavy silence settled between you and the only friend you’d successfully kept in the whole of California. In all of the United States, really.

You didn’t want to say it, but you couldn’t keep it in, either: “I don’t know what I’d do without you.

Jinseo, dropping her chin to rest on the heel of her hand, smiled with only half her mouth. She paused before admitting, “I don’t know what you’d do without me, either.”

Your instinct was to cry, but you’d never hear the end of it if you did. Jinseo, like you, seemed to develop contact dermatitis when confronted with vulnerability and affection. Instead, your friendship was grounded in playful smacks to the arm and glances nobody but the two of you could decipher.

For this reason, you picked your pen up off the table and gestured to the page before you. “You’re sure that catch you on the flip-side, nerds, won’t hold up in court?”

“If you really want to fuck around with Bang PD, I suppose you’ll find out.” She shrugged, then she winked again.

You didn’t, for more reasons than one. The most recent of those was the grace and understanding Bang Si-Hyuk had shown you when you raised the idea of leaving his label. The heaviest of them was the simple fact that you owed him everything — your career, your success, and most of all, the family you’d found through him.

In your best friend, who you’d never have met without Si-Hyuk's help in breaking through the American market. She was your lifeboat in a lonely, intimidating sea of unfamiliar people, customs, language, and food.

In Yoongi, the illustrious Big Hit producer who collaborated with you during the wild hours you kept, no matter what time it was on his end. He was your parachute, saving you quietly and without fail, through every leap of faith. He kept you company when you left Korea — then he started a company to bring you back.

In Namjoon, whose release party changed the trajectory of your entire life. His role could never be adequately described in any words — in any language.

A lighthouse, maybe, guiding you through jagged rocks to shore.

Or a cabin in the woods that you never expected to find, but that held you warmly when the trail ahead couldn’t be found in the dark.

More simply: he was everything.

“Where’d you go just now?” Jinseo’s sudden statement made you jump. There was a muffled knock when your kneecap collided with the underside of the table.

You blinked over at her and watched as her pursed lips curved into a smile. Your instinct was to keep your sentimental nonsense to yourself — after all, this wasn’t goodbye in any way that mattered. The two of you would stay in constant contact, visiting one another at any and every possible opportunity.

Why did you always try to eulogize what wasn’t dead yet?

Again, Jinseo surprised you. “You do know how proud I am of you, right?”

She snorted at your bemused expression: wide, watery eyes sitting between raised eyebrows and a mouth that was neither closed nor fully open.

Just as quickly, she course-corrected, resuming her abnormally solemn tone. “You do hard things every damn day and you always get out of bed the next,” Jinseo continued.

Apparently, her margarita’s rim demanded more than table salt; it wanted tears, too.

“You’re brave as hell — braver than me, that’s for sure. You jump because you know you need to; and I sit on the ground because I’m too afraid of heights.” She reached across the table and gave your hand a squeeze, “And your survival rate, despite it all, is one-hundred percent.”

You wiped furiously at the tears streaking through your foundation. Everything you needed to say to her was communicated with a shared glance, like always. Your friendship was telepathic; it would endure regardless of distance.

What you said out loud earned you the belly laugh you loved so much:

“Imagine what you would’ve said if I remembered your guacamole.”

Namjoon wouldn’t normally use the word giddy to describe himself. Even at his most excited, he was able to maintain some ounce of chill — the tiniest fraction of composure, whether he truly felt composed or not.

Then again, he’d never experienced this level of exhilaration before. Not when he was signed, not when he released his first track, not even when he was nominated for a Grammy.

In a matter of minutes, your plane would land at Incheon and his whole damn world would resume its intended orbit. The tectonic plates would shift back where they belonged; and every natural disaster he’d set loose inside himself would finally — after all this time — subside.

Though he wasn’t the one who left, it felt like his homecoming, too. Even in Korea, surrounded by everyone and everything he’d always known, Namjoon’s recent existence was nomadic. He bounced between surface-level relationships and sleepwalked through events that should’ve mattered; never allowing himself to feel connected to any of it.

Namjoon was a comet — arriving quickly and on fire, then disappearing just as fast. He was ready to stop being temporary, so long as you became permanent, too.

It was that dream of roots that had Namjoon refreshing the flight-tracker once an hour for the thirteen you’d spent in the air. He watched that tiny, animated plane inch closer while your estimated time of arrival began to look more and more like the one on his watch.

When they finally matched, Namjoon slammed his hand down on the steering wheel of his parked car and shouted to no one but himself, “Yes!”

There was an old woman — why did she look so familiar? — glaring at him through his passenger window. He might’ve scared her with his sudden display, but Namjoon couldn’t find a fuck to give. He was too busy grabbing the carefully curated bouquet off the seat to his right, then clambering out of his own.

It was a confusing assortment, and not necessarily a beautiful one. Instead of a single phrase, Namjoon’s choices communicated paragraphs; combining every type of flower he’d ever given you on this very same sidewalk. If you were anyone else, you might take this eyesore and dump it immediately in the nearby trashcan — but you weren't anyone else.

The first addition was white camellias, matching the ones you received after your first flight home. Like they did back then, they confessed how much he adored you from the start. Then came pink roses because he loved you happily, softly, despite the distance.

On your third arrival home, he gave you baby’s breath. Those delicate petals commemorated the pieces of himself that went missing when you went away; all falling back into place the second he saw you again. White tulips followed, begging forgiveness for the increasing time you spent apart and how little you’d get to spend together on that fourth trip.

For this trip, the last you’d ever make alone, he added bridal wreath.

Namjoon read it somewhere recently that this plant was virtually impossible to kill once it was established. It could survive just about anything and remain beautiful despite its hardships. Like the shrub he’d clipped it from, he’d withstand everything with you.

The fondness he radiated must have summoned you because, after ten minutes of scanning the out-coming crowd, he finally saw you. There you were, shuffling on travel-weary legs, with your signature, mint-colored headphones; and your self-congratulatory boba.

Unfortunately, you didn’t see him — miraculous, given the way he was waving his arms like a fool and shouting through cupped hands to get your attention. Instead, your sleepy gaze fixated squarely on your phone.

You must’ve assumed that this arrival would be like the last one.

Before you could summon an Uber – definitely not another taxi – Namjoon dug his own phone out of his jacket pocket. He struggled to text with one hand occupied by his bouquet, so he took the easy way out.

[To: Jagi 🤫] 👋🏻

Your gasp came before he could look back up at you, but he heard it loud and clear. When his eyes found you again, he watched in slow motion as your beloved boba fell out of your hand and clattered against the sidewalk.

The sound of plastic hitting pavement was the starting whistle. Now, you were off to the races.

With shocking speed, you leapt over the spilled tea and flew towards him like your Prada backpack came equipped with rocket boosters. At that cost, anything was possible. He managed to catch you in his arms without losing a single petal.

Once he had you, he kissed you like it was the first time: shy to start, growing increasingly desperate with every passing second. With your arms linked in their rightful place around his neck and your lips so warm against his, he wondered how many times he could shout I love you without saying a word.

Panting, you eventually pulled back with lips pink and semi-swollen from the urgency of it all. You sighed if you weren’t the breath of fresh air, “Hi.”

“Hi,” Namjoon repeated with a chuckle, grinning like a fool.

Though he didn’t want to, he let you slip out of his arms to your feet. After all, he couldn’t complete your airport ritual unless your hands were free. He swallowed hard and tried his best not to blush when he held out the bouquet.

It felt like he was gifting you his whole, beating heart instead.

You froze once the flowers transferred from his hand to yours.

Immediately, his pulse began to race. If he was still holding that massive bouquet, he would’ve beat himself over the head with it. Once again, Namjoon had overthought everything and analyzed a simple task to death.

But your pupils dilated ever-so-slightly when you looked back up at him with swimming eyes. He should’ve known you’d remember. Given you long-due credit for the way you always made him feel seen.

You reached up and did what you’d only done once before — in a dark hallway, five months earlier. Your gaze followed the tip of your thumb as it swiped gently over his bottom lip, and you smiled.

“Say less, Joonie."

After picking you up from the airport, Namjoon promptly whisked you away to the apartment you’d both recently closed on. As a life-long renter, leaving town more often than staying, it was your first major purchase. It was also your first joint purchase.

The old you would’ve been terrified of killing these two, deeply committal birds with one stone; but the person you were now didn’t bat an eye. 

What was there to panic over, anyway? It felt right because it was. 

Given your exhausted state, the tour was brief. You spent it all clinging to Namjoon’s back like a jetlagged sloth in a tree, but your excitement was evident despite the mumbled voice that expressed it.

If there was any moisture left in your worn-out body, it would’ve left you in tears when you saw the combination of your respective design styles incorporated so perfectly throughout the space.

The items you’d shipped internationally arrived before you did. Namjoon seemed to know without asking exactly where you’d choose to put them. Your kitschy trinkets didn’t look stupid next to his art collection in the way you thought they would. Even more shocking was the way your eccentric, eclectic taste meshed seamlessly with his modern neutrals.  

Your home with him was a mirror, reflecting the very specific way you each provided what the other lacked. 

And he’d handled it all himself, taking the daunting task of unpacking off your plate so you could finish your chapter in Los Angeles.

Though he wasn’t physically present for the hours you spent making plans with Yoongi — or the hours you spent explaining those same plans to Bang Si-Hyuk — you felt him. He listened to every complaint and over-caffeinated rant. He gave you patience, reassurance, and equal enthusiasm in return. 

Because you loved him, you could do hard things.

You could navigate the nightmare realm that was moving internationally. You could join your friend in doing what neither of you had ever done before — creating your own label, then your own studio — while you were still stuck on the other side of an ocean. You could move back home without your tail between your legs, feeling like you’d failed to hack it alone. 

You didn’t fail. You simply realized – much later than you should have — that any path worth taking was one you walked with Namjoon. 

When the tour concluded, you fell asleep — at three o’clock in the afternoon — in his arms. When you woke up six hours later, he was still holding you. That is, until you lurched forward and spun around in a frenzy. 

“Joon!” Your exclamation was interrupted by a yawn, but that didn’t undermine the urgency. “Were you trapped under me this whole time? Oh my god, you missed dinner. Aren’t you thirsty? I’m a monster —” 

Namjoon’s entire face crinkled up under the force of his smile. His laughter twinkled in his eyes, too, and threatened to spill out. You stopped rambling mid-sentence and released your death grip on his hand so he could wipe the mirth from his cheekbone.

He was still chuckling despite the horror on your face. 

“What?” You asked incredulously, though you were starting to giggle, too. “What’s so funny?” 

The more he laughed, the more you did. It was a cycle, certainly, but far from vicious. Was this the kind of life you got to live now? One so perfect that endless laughter — caused by nothing in particular — echoed through every room? 

His hands cupped the sides of your face and guided you towards him. Still smiling, you were both catching your breath when his forehead came to rest against yours. Nose tips bumping into one another, he hummed contentedly, “You just sat alone on an airplane for thirteen hours, jagi. If I get to be your pillow for even half as long, you won’t catch me complaining.” 

You kissed him automatically; a reflex your body had acclimated to without requiring your brain to prompt it. It was brief, but you had all the time in the world to kiss him again. For now, you wanted to stare at him for as long as it took to prove to yourself that you weren’t simply dreaming. 

“Hang on,” Namjoon said suddenly. He kissed you before you could pout and then he rolled off the side of the bed. He held one finger up as he stared intently back at you, “Don’t move, okay?” 

After all that time sitting still with your body pushing against his bladder, you assumed he was headed for the adjoining bathroom. He wasn’t; he rushed right past it and disappeared out your bedroom door. You listened to his footfalls against the hallway floor until he was too far away to track.  

What on Earth was he doing? 

You sat there cross-legged in a pool of sheets for several minutes. One eyebrow raised in confusion while your gaze stayed locked on the doorway. It still managed to surprise you when he reappeared — not just because his arrival was sudden, but because he was holding his grandmother’s tea pot in his hands. 

Is that why you didn’t hear him jogging back? Because he was moving at a snail’s pace, protecting that floral-printed ceramic like his life depended on it? 

You opened your mouth to speak, but he cut you off with the same finger he’d pointed at you earlier. Namjoon ignored your furrowed eyebrows, crossed back to his side of the bed, and crawled back into the space he’d left behind. While your eyes darted between him and his tea pot, his never left your face. Uncharacteristically quiet, taking deep, measured breaths. 

No, really — what on Earth was he doing? 

“I can tell by that look on your face that you have no idea what the hell is happening, but hear me out, okay?”

He waited for you to nod before continuing slowly, “I overthink things. Sometimes, it ends up fine, but it usually doesn’t. I try to think before I act, then I think instead of acting — I don’t want to do that now.” 

Namjoon paused for a moment, finally glancing down at the tea pot cradled in his hands. “I asked Yoongi to hang on to this during the move because I break things. I never mean to, but for some unknown reason, all that over-thinking doesn’t make me careful. I ruin things far too easily and I hate that about myself —” 

“Joon,” you frowned. Placing a hand on his bouncing knee, you begged him to look up at you. “You don’t ruin things —”

He shook his head, stopping you from continuing. You’d never seen him look so determined. “I do, but that’s not the point I’m getting at.”

He shot you a tiny smile as if you were the one deserving reassurance. “I let you go when I didn’t want to, let this thing we built fall to pieces. The timing couldn’t have been worse, either — now I’m late cashing in.” 

“Cashing in?” Clearly, you'd lost the plot.

Namjoon laughed, “Two years. You said to give it two years and if it turned out that I was right, I’d win a prize. It’s been a little bit longer than that, but I'm one-hundred-percent sure.” 

Oh.  

You'd replayed that night over and over in your head since it happened. Really, you should’ve caught on immediately; but you thought you were the only one carrying that memory around like a torch. 

Did he really remember that conversation after all this time? Some silly, inside joke that you made after only knowing him for a few hours?

Namjoon took the lid off the teapot and set it down softly on the nightstand behind him.

“It took me too long to realize it, but it’s you — you're the prize. I don’t want to orchestrate some ridiculous, dramatic gesture because this is us. It feels exactly like it did that first night, when I took this bet in the first place.” 

His hand dipped down into the tea pot. When it re-emerged, he was holding a small box made of exquisite black leather. You started crying in the split second it took him to open it. He was blinking back tears of his own when he flipped it around to show you its contents.  

“I’m all in if you are.”

Namjoon was a lot of things, but he wasn't a quitter.

After he slid that ring on your finger, neither of you could keep your hands to yourself. Like history repeating itself, he loved every inch of you on every goddamn surface in that apartment.

In the bed he'd wake up in, next to you, for the rest of his life. On that bright yellow couch you loved so much; the kitchen counter he'd have to clean before making too big of a breakfast for you in the morning. When you christened every other room, the pair of you retired to the bathroom.

Initially, your goal upon entering the shower wasn't sex. In fact, it was to soothe your exhausted, sweat-slicked bodies before collapsing onto fresh sheets and a re-made bed. If you thought you were tired before, you'd sleep for a week now. Every part of him ached in the best way, so he'd welcome the opportunity to rest for several days at your side.

But then he smelled your shampoo — vanilla and honey — and it flipped a switch in his fucked-out brain. The warm water spilling in rivulets over your soft skin pressed the issue; and so did that diamond sparkling up at him through the steam.

He didn't follow you in here to fuck you, but he'd be remiss if he let the moment slip down the drain with the suds.

Experimentally, he pushed your hair away from the back of your neck and brought his lips to the space he'd cleared. Watching your slow inhale, he lingered there for a moment to gauge your reaction. Your head tilted slightly to the side; he considered it an invitation. In lieu of an RSVP, he sent his tongue in a short, languid line.

The moan he coaxed out of you was quiet, but despite the falling water, it reverberated across the glass walls and tile. You followed up with a sigh, leaning your head back against his chest as his mouth moved to claim the side of your neck.

"Shit," you keened with your eyes closed, "We're never leaving the house again, are we?"

Namjoon hummed as he flicked his tongue over your earlobe, "Outlook not so good."

As expected, you caught his reference immediately. You wobbled as you laughed; his arms snaked around the curves of your waist to satiate his need for closeness and his desire to keep you upright. "Mr. Kim, certified genius, is now citing the Magic 8 ball?"

"It's the poet laureate of our generation, Mrs. Kim."

Even if you didn't whimper at the utterance of your future name, Namjoon still would've repeated it over and over again. A mantra, an invocation manifesting a long life in which you matched. So, he did say it again, whispering it into your flesh as his hands slid up your torso.

Mrs. Kim, Mrs. Kim, Mrs. Kim.

Given what they'd been through over the past several hours, he treated your nipples with the utmost care and reverence. Sensitive thing that you were, even his feather-light touch had you mewling. Fuck, he loved that sound.

"Baby?" Your voice was barely distinguishable from an exhale, but that perfect softness hit him hard, "Please."

Your wish was, is, and always would be his command.

Namjoon worried about your trembling legs, so he chose the first solution that came to mind: he turned you gently around, kissed you deep, and lifted you off your feet. As always, you molded so easily against his body. You legs wrapped around him in tandem with your arms.

Carefully, he rested your back against the stone wall and adjusted his grip so that his arms slotted under your thighs. “This okay, Mrs. Kim?" He asked.

Your answer came in the form of your hand dipping down and guiding the tip of his cock to your entrance. He followed your lead, leaving both of you to moan when he entered you.

Like a glove, you enveloped him completely. He'd never believe that you weren't destined to fit together like this. Out of every person, in every timeline, he was the lucky bastard meant for you.

Unlike the previous rounds, this was slow. Deliberate, not underscored by some carnal desire or desperate need to reclaim lost moments. He took his time grinding himself into your unimaginable warmth because he now had it in spades. Namjoon refused to let a second pass without cherishing it fully first.

Your head dipped back against the cool stone, allowing you to tilt your jaw upward. Placing a kiss at the column of your throat, he pushed himself deeper into you.

Breathy moans thanked him wordlessly for his fluency in your body's language. Namjoon had studied religiously to learn your unspoken cues, so your raised eyebrows and closed lids foretold your orgasm before your velvet walls clenched around him.

"Fuck, Joon," you cried out as you shook in his arms.

Your little whimpers lured him to the edge; your tightened grip on his shoulder pulled him off behind you. As he spilled himself inside of you, he screwed his eyes shut and nestled his face into the crook of your neck to muffle his chest-deep groan.

After several moments of silence, you shifted. He rolled his neck to move his head further down your shoulder. From this vantage point, he gazed up at you — the only thing worth looking at, all he ever wanted, the one he got to keep for good.

With a kiss left at his temple, you murmured, "I'm glad you took it back."

"What?" He asked quietly, searching your flushed, smiling face for answers.

"All the love I have for you. I know where to put it now."

A/N: aaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH IT'S FINALLY HERE! i cried like a bitch baby when i was writing this - even more so when i finished writing this (aka now) - because this lil series takes up my whole heart. i buried so much of myself in lacuna, so this was my attempt to plant flowers in the achy bits, lol. i left lots of easter eggs, so i'd love to know what you find! also, yes, i did write my damn self into this one. hahahah. lacuna was largely autobiographical (except the namjoon part, obvi) so it felt right to fictionalize myself as the person saying what i would've wanted to hear back then.

i'd love to know your thoughts, so please please please let me know either by replying, reblogging, PMing me, or dropping a line in the ask box.

[chihoshisai]

Tenderness and Warmth

Fandom : Black Clover / Pairing : You x Julius / Genre : (imo its mild but it depends on the person) smut and fluff, lighthearted / Other : if you prefer reading it on ao3 it's also there

Summary : After a long day of mutual pinning, You and Julius can finally secretly let it loose once night has fallen and most of his duties are over. Each night brings about a new compliment on his part followed by another shower of physical affection.

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“Your hair is so long!”

Julius sat by your side. One of his favorite things to do after a long day of work and some intimate lovemaking was to compliment you. Each night, he managed to shine light upon a different feature of yourself, which made the feelings you felt for him bloom even more. He never ran out of ideas and most importantly never pointed out the same perfection twice in one night. During the day, he would compliment your overall beauty or say that your current attire suited you well, but at night – as you laid bare before him – he would never resort to such superficial claims. 

“They are soft and fair. You must take good care of them,” he said, stroking the waist long hairs. 

“Don’t even get me started on my haircare routine,” you said with a smile.

“Do share!” Julius said eagerly. The secret was good genes and in fact you didn’t do anything special but use shampoo and conditioner. Afraid of disappointing Julius, you put a finger to your lips, indicating they were sealed and he gave you a pout. 

“They are too beautiful for you to let them be everyday.” Julius began. 

You stared down at the slightly disheveled hairs who shielded your nipples from being shown. You never bothered to style them let alone worry about how they looked. 

“Braids would enhance their beauty!” he finished, before taking a part and making a poor attempt at putting together a braid. You scoffed at his struggle and gently put your hands on his to part them. You took back the part of your hair which Julius was holding and showed him the motions.

“I see! So that’s how it’s done! How fascinating!” he beamed. Whenever he shocastes his – childish – enthusiasm, you couldn’t help but be reminded of a golden retriever wagging its tail. Julius Novachrone, the Wizard King with a hobby of sneaking off of work to discover new magic was now showing eagerness at the idea of learning how to do a braid, all while wearing nothing but his underwear. Who would have thought? You handed him the braid you started and his excitement and contagious smile spread to you. He treated the hair with so much unfamiliarity, the braid wound up loose and undid itself.     

“Oh,” he frowned.

“Do it again,” you encouraged him.

He did it once more and this time, tied it with a ribbon he fetched, seemingly satisfied with himself. A waist length braid now descended from the right side of your neck and down to the bedsheets. 

“I knew it!” Braids do enhance the overall look of your hair.” he said. 

You stroked it, as ideas of hairstyles raced through your mind. You made a mental note to call upon your maid in order to help you out the next morning. The thought of Julius’ reaction made you bite your lips who threatened to let escape a snort. 

“Do you not like it?”

You snapped back to reality and shook your head fervently. “No that’s not it. I love it.” Julius’ heart sunken face made you cup his cheeks, “I’m honored you made it for me. It’s not everyday someone gets to have their hair braided by the Wizard King.” You gave him a sneer, and he scoffed, amused by your words. “Do you believe me now?”

“Under normal circumstances yes, but I am not here as the Wizard King,” he added with a playful look in his eyes. 

“Do you not believe me Julius?” you stroked his cheeks. “I love it, I love everything you do for me, to me. I love you.” You saw his face flush, as you gave his lips a light peck. 

“I believe you now,” he wrapped his hands around your waist, “and I too, love you very much.” 

He returned the peck tenfold. Pressing his lips against yours with fervent motions, only parting to allow you both some air, before leaning back in again. It was already past midnight, and you knew there was no stopping him until he was sure that you were satisfied. The usual round two involved some lighter, delicate intimacy after the longing and mutual pining from a long day of work unfolded as soon as you both reached the bedroom. You slid a hand from his cheek to grab his neck, and the other down to his chest. With great motions, you guided the kiss until you moved to your desired position. As you sat on his lap, allowing one hand to run rampant on his upper body – grazing, scratching, clutching and sinking your nails into his well-built muscles – feeling his hard finger grip the fat of the back of your lower body. To his brief dismay, you parted from the kiss to instead direct your lips to the surface of his neck, both of your hands now resting upon his chest. Julius buried his face on the top of your head, and the sensation of his raspy breath sent a turmoil of butterflies in your stomach. 

“I don’t recall telling you how good they smell,” he said in a whispering voice. You smiled in his neck and grazed your nose upon it’s outline. 

“No, but I do appreciate the compliment. You couldn’t have picked a better moment to mention it,” you teased. 

He brought his hands to your face, lifting it up and pushing back your hair with his fingertips, your cheeks now in his palms. He stared down at you with a forced serious expression that hinted at amusement. “Are you saying I should have kept quiet about it?” he said. 

You gave him a patronizing mock of a smile, “you tell me. As a citizen of the Clover Kingdom, I would never dare tell Julius Novachrono what he can and can’t do.”

“You’re such a tease!” he exclaimed. He gave you a loud peck on the forehead, which caused you to chuckle, before he went and closed the distance between his lips and yours. 

He moved you down to your back, effortlessly removing his underwear while he was at it. His lips found your collarbone, showering it with kisses, as your hands ruffled his blond hair and ran through his back. A groan of pleasure escaped you – his fingers had found your vulva and were manipulating it with dexterity and experience. The familiar sensation sent quivers up your abdomen, as your cunt responded in pleasure, wetting his finger with warm liquids. 

“Julius,” you whimpered. Each moan brought about an increase  of movements on his part – one finger playing with your clitoris in clockwise motions whilst the remaining fingers went in and out of yourself, occasionally caressing it’s outer region.

“Say my name once more,” he said. You did as you were told, moaning in between each syllable, as you knew he liked. Clasping your legs around his body, you grabbed his head and directed it towards yourself.

“Kisses,” you demanded. A rain of pecks descended upon your face’s feature before your lips – the final stop – were rewarded. He slumped on you – making sure his full body weight didn’t hinder you – and took your hands, intertwining his fingers in yours. His body heat mingled with yours, whilst you faintly moved yours rhythmically under his. Julius let go of your left hand for a moment, before reuniting both hands back. You felt the inside of your already loosened cunt welcome him back inside for the second time of the night. Your thighs and stomach ebbed with thrill upon the familiar yet still enjoyable thrusting movements of Julius, as he matched his rhythm to yours. You could feel your eyes – tightly shut – roll to the back of your head, as his hips moved his cock slowly inside you. Julius’ lips parted with yours and found your left ears. He breasted deeply in and out from both nose and mouth, surrendering himself to your moans.,  before he bit the edge of your ear and nimbled it. This was it. You felt your body reach its climax as you gripped his hands tighter. He gave you a peck on the temple before sliding his cock out, and descending down on you to swallow the now done exploding orgasm. He didn’t waste this opportunity to lick your clitoris and let his tongue add pleasure to your sweet spots – cursing you to grip his hair tight and your toe to curl on the bed sheets. He stopped only when he heard your moans to raspy breathings. He smiled, as you released him, parting your arms to allow him to nestle in them. 

“You devil,” you teased. “Eating me out right after I come. You should do it more often.”

He chuckled, “I am no devil, but I can certainly do the latter again tomorrow.” He positioned himself on his elbows to look at you, “But didn’t you say earlier that you are in no place to tell me what I can and can’t do?” He stared at you, with his lips curled in a smile and his eyes sneering.

“Julius! Do not bring sex conversations outside of sex.”

“Oh but we are very much still in bed and not done,” he said, and gave you another round of kisses, combined with laughing. You had to beg him to stop otherwise neither of you would get some sleep and god forbids the Wizard King of ever being tired. 

The next day, you woke up to an empty bed as usual – no traces of Julius being there last night were left, as being in a public relationship would prove to be a weakness for him. You called upon your maid and tasked her with braiding your hair, prior to going on about your day, already anticipating the tension and discreet kisses from the interactions you would get with Julius, as Marx’s personal aid.  

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

A/N : this was an attempt at writting smut. it may not be perfect as i'm still learning but constructive criticism and opinions are most welcome :)

[captainmalewriter]

I was walking down the street near my apartment in Brooklyn when I spotted the pink capsule laying in the street.

Normally, I wouldn’t care about something like that, but for some reason I found myself drawn to it… 

Congratulations, you found my missing pink capsule! Here's what happened when you found it...

It was an ordinary day like any other. You woke up, you had breakfast, and you took care of any chores/errands you needed to do. By the time the clock struck 12 in the afternoon, you found yourself bored with nothing else to do. That was when you decided to go out for a little walk around your neighborhood. 

As you walked down the street, you noticed an unusually large, pink toy capsule just sitting on the pavement. You paused momentarily as you walked by it. It was unopened, although you could tell it was probably worth no more than a dollar. Normally, you would’ve just ignored it and kept going about your day. However, considering how bored you were, you decided to just take the oversized capsule for yourself. After all, what was the harm in having a little childish fun? 

You finished your afternoon walk and went back inside your apartment with the pink capsule in hand. Once inside the safety of your home, you made yourself comfortable and hopped onto your bed. You looked over the capsule one more time before opening it. Given how cheap the plastic looked, you hoped that the toy inside was at least cool enough to keep as a desk decoration. With that hope in mind, you ripped off the plastic safety seal and popped open the capsule. You were expecting some type of miniature toy like a race car or even maybe some stickers. Which was why you were extra surprised when you found a jockstrap sitting inside!

It took a moment for the initial shock to wear off. Out of all the things that could’ve been inside this pink toy capsule, a black and white jockstrap was probably the last thing you expected to find! You noticed the jockstrap had a thin line of plastic wrapped around it, indicating that it was brand new. But despite knowing it wasn’t a used jockstrap, you still hesitated in taking it out of its capsule. You took the jockstrap out carefully and took off the safety plastic. You then laid it out in front of you on your bed. It seemed to be of a pretty good quality, though you weren’t a jockstrap expert so you weren’t too sure. Regardless, you had no intention of wearing a jockstrap anytime soon. You couldn’t even if you wanted to, it was one size too small for you. You decided it’d be best to just throw it away.

You rolled off your bed. The moment your feet hit the ground, you felt something hitting you on the back. You quickly turned around but saw nothing out of the ordinary. The only noteworthy thing you saw was that the jockstrap was on the ground. You had no idea how it got there. Perhaps a strong breeze? You weren’t sure, but you knew you had to get rid of it quickly. You bent over to pick it up. But just as you were about to grab it, the jockstrap perched up and snarled at you like a mad dog! 

The jockstrap suddenly coming to life caught you off guard. Its barking caused you to fall onto your ass. The jockstrap was crawling towards you. In a state of panic, you tried to scoot away from it while using your legs to try to kick it away. But it was no use. The jockstrap was quickly closing the distance between you two. Your back hit a nearby wall. You were cornered. 

You braced yourself for whatever the jockstrap was plotting as it got closer and closer. Then, the jockstrap jumped up and opened itself up nice and wide. First it swerved down as it put itself on around your ankles. It then swerved back up as it flew up your legs. As expected, it was too small for you. You winced as the tight front pocket positioned itself right on top of your junk while the ass straps snapped in place on your rear. All the while your body began transforming to what the jockstrap wanted your body to be. A curly handlebar mustache sprouted out of your once smooth face. You rapidly lost weight and body mass until you had the physique of a twink. It became clear that even if you didn’t want to wear the jockstrap, the jockstrap wanted to wear you.

Once the jockstrap forced itself on you, it forced your body to stand up. Then, using your arms, it tore off all of your clothes until you had nothing except the jockstrap and socks on. 

“Ahhh… Much better!” you said out loud. You then got on your bed again, just as the jockstrap commanded you to.

You had lost control over your own body. Whatever the jockstrap wanted, you had no choice but to obey its commands. But as you rested on your bed, you noticed you weren’t being forced to move around anymore. An idea hit you then. While the jockstrap wasn’t moving around with your body, you figured you might be able to overpower it just long enough to take it off. You weren’t sure if it was going to work, but you had to give it a chance. 

You waited a couple of moments before executing your plan. If it was going to work, you needed to be quick— even quicker than the jockstrap! 

You mentally counted down from three, then went straight for the waistband! But unfortunately, the moment you laid your hands on the elastic waistband, the jockstrap took full control over your body again. Following the jockstrap’s command, you laid down on your bed. Then, one of your hands went up to your nipple and began rubbing it, occasionally pinching the tip until it got hard. Your other hand went further down your waist and cupped your dick. You then began massaging your dick through the fabric of the front pocket, causing it to slowly but surely reach full mast. Despite your efforts to try to suppress how much pleasure you were feeling, a couple of moans escaped your lips anyway as you fondled yourself. 

You then flipped over on your stomach. You raised your hands then swung them back down onto your ass, causing a loud smack and an even louder moan to reverberate throughout your apartment. Each hand grabbed an ass cheek and thoroughly massaged it like a baker kneading bread. You threw your face down onto your pillow as the jockstrap had its way with your ass. You had to admit it, the jockstrap knew its way to pleasure a body! Suddenly you found yourself begging for more from the jockstrap you were wearing.

As your hands fondled your ass, you felt a strange feeling start spreading around your derriere. It was warm, and it made you arch your back and start shaking your ass. The more you shook your ass, the heavier it felt. It was as if your ass was taking on extra mass! You knew this was true since you kept shaking your ass, but now your cheeks clapped together every time you swung your hips. Your ass kept growing and growing in size until you had a proper bubble butt to fill out the jockstrap. Your new fat ass was big and plump, enough so you could grab a handful of ass and still not be able to hold it all! 

Once the jockstrap was finally done transforming you, you laid back down onto your stomach. All that body transformation and stimulation really caused you to work up a sweat! But besides that, it also gave you an incredible craving to get dicked down. After all, what good was a twink with a fat ass like yours if you didn’t put it to work? And with the new jockstrap you recently got from a prize capsule, you were surely ready to strut your trunk and put it to good use.

Hope you enjoy the new body prize you won from finding my lost capsule!

[neuroticbookworm]

*deep breath* FUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK

Alright, I'm gonna make my case for the Bad Buddy Rooftop Kiss. This is probably gonna be the most personal I've ever been on this hellsite.

Let's get this out of the way. I loved Kinnporsche. I honestly did (even though it might not look like it since this is the second time I'm passionately campaigning against the show). I loved it so much that I made my very busy best friend, @tonysteve25 who is planning their wedding, make up the time to talk to me so I can rant for two hours about the show (no need to judge me, I know y'all are equally crazy)

I'm gonna strip the plot to the basics and then build my argument, so if I end up reiterating a lot of themes that are already discussed, apologies in advance

Bad Buddy is, at its core, a Romeo and Juliet retelling. Set in a fairly conservative Asian country, and produced by a media industry whose brand of storytelling often involves an AU-esque setting where homophobia does not exist. We are shown time and again that Pat and Pran's friends and family do not have a problem with them being in a same-sex relationship.

So the conflict comes from the history their families have with each other. As a South Asian cinephile, I've watched this trope play out so many times with heterosexual couples that I'm sure it has unwittingly become a part of my brain chemistry. Oftentimes, the reasons why the families are feuding are so over the top that every shred of relatability gets thrown out the window.

In Bad Buddy's case, the reason is kept simple, albeit childish in the beginning. A business rivalry between the two families, and as a result, the boys are also pitted against each other. This simplicity gives way to a lot of levity in the beginning, but as the story progresses, the real strength of this narrative starts seeping through. This show is relatable. Almost too relatable.

The constant pressure to outperform the other in every way, be it academics, sports, or romance; the expectation on Pat to follow his dad's footsteps and match his achievements, even in a dumb singing competition; the guilt that permeates every moment of joy they feel in their relationship, because they are always aware that they are actively disappointing their parents; the quiet, painful realization in the later episodes that they will never be accepted into each other's families, no matter how hard they try; the revelation that the root of the conflict came from a scholarship stolen from a woman, to satisfy the expectations of a patriarch.

Every statement above is the reality of so many Asians living their lives right now. I personally know couples who have been cut off from their families for over 20 years because they don't approve of their love/marriage. I have peers who blindly follow the career path charted for them by their parents because it is easier than resisting and doing something they actually like. A lot of us are left feeling unmoored and struggling to define our self worth in the real world, after we leave academia, because that is all we are ever taught: your grades indicate how worthy you are.

Now, I know not a single word above argues why the kiss is the best, but I'm getting there. Stay with me now. Many people more talented than me have argued the specifics of the kiss, the reasons why it grabbed us by our throats the first time we saw it, and why we are still on that rooftop with them. The reasons submitted in the poll describe it so eloquently, beat by beat (edit: I found out that it was witten by @tiistirtipii, here). @respectthepetty begs us not to disappoint Pat again here, @lurkingshan dives deep into the character analysis and why the kiss is the perfect culmination of narration, pacing, and the characters' journey here, @waitmyturtles explores the importance of foreplay, the 'how did we get here' before the kiss, here.

What I want to draw attention to are two things. One: how this kiss was executed in such a way that all of their deeper struggles are woven into the microexpressions, so when you rewatch the show, all of the added context makes it so much more heartbreaking.

Let's be clear here, Pat and Pran did not get a happily ever after. They did not break all of the chains that were weighing them down. Pat went on to follow his father into the business (who also followed his father into it). They have to keep their relationship a secret, with no end in sight. Even in the end, the audience is shown only a hidden, reluctant acceptance from the parents, not an open love.

Pat and Pran's relationship will always be bittersweet. And the kiss shows it. The fact that the kiss was the very last shot to be filmed is no coincidence. The actors know how it ends, they have already performed it. They also know that the characters in this moment know it too. They have lived all their lives playing their families' games, they know that if they take this leap of faith, then they are willingly giving up so many little moments in life, even something so mundane as entering each other's house through the front door. And we can see it, see all of it clearly in Pran's face. Pran, who plans every detail of his life. Pran, who is also in love with his rival for who knows how long. And then we see it in Pat's face too, if only after a moment, because that's the way he is. Pat, who has looked at Pran all his life as a rival, a bandmate, a secret friend. Pat, who is the only one who can completely understand Pran, his anger and grief and devastation, because they only have each other in this wretched game. We see his face fall, and we see confusion cloud his happiness.

This kiss is the perfect summation of their relationship, shown at the very beginning of it. They can have desire, but be riddled with guilt. They can have happiness, but only in secrecy.

Two: how this kiss did more for Asian queer representation than we can ever comprehend.

I was not present in the Tumblr trenches with y'all when the show originally aired, but I've read many, many posts about how it broke the internet. Western media often fucks up queer characters because they don't write fully fleshed out characters who happen to also be queer. They place enormous emphasis on the character's queerness, and end up writing a stereotypical cardboard cutout in the shape of a queer person. Complex queer representation is hard to come by, add Asian into the mix and the pool gets laughably small.

In the episodes leading up to the kiss, we see the characters get fleshed out, their struggles explored, but they are also deeply rooted in the middle class Asianness of it all. I know it is ironic to say that other shows from Thailand are less Asian than this one, but the struggles of a queer mafia boss/rich businessman/heir to the corporate throne protagonists can sometimes be a tad out of touch for the general populace, and we can only feel so much nostalgia for our school days before we are tired of the saccharine sugar high.

When I saw this kiss for the first time, my eyes teared up, not because these gay characters are having a hard time, but because I could feel their pain, irrespective of my sexuality. I knew deep in my bones how a kiss can simultaneously feel like freedom and a lifelong trap. And I'm sure so many others felt it too. The kiss went viral because it was a perfect representation of so many struggles of Asians and the diaspora (and beyond), and it happened to be queer.

I don't know how the results will tally up when the clock runs out, but I hope we can chalk up a honest-to-goodness happy ending for them, if only in a silly Tumblr poll.

cc @bl-bracket, here ya go, a very long and rambling campaign propaganda

[marshallpupfan]

I'm about to make yet another lengthy post... easily my longest yet. This time, it's not about the movies or any issues I have with PAW Patrol in its current state. No, it's instead about a problem I've been dealing with... except said problem is less a what and more of a who. I'm sure some of you already know about this, but for those of you that don't, let me tell you about a person who's been a thorn in my side for three years now.

Back in October of 2020, I encountered a user who seemed to be doing the whole Daily Marshall Pics as me. However, I soon discovered they weren't just doing the same thing... they were actually using the exact screenshot I posted, the exact same hashtag, and quite often, the exact same text. They did this for every daily I posted... or just any picture, really. As soon as I'd post something, they'd immediately take it and repost it onto their account. At the time, I didn't know what to do, or if I could do anything.

Cut to around December of the same year, and I decided to make a new winter-themed avatar and banner for my Twitter account. Less than a day later, that user seen I did that and... no joke... took both and applied them to his own account. Suddenly, with him posting the exact same content with the exact same avatar and banner, his account looked exactly like mine. Some people even admitted they thought he WAS me, and a few were starting to get seriously confused. At this point, I started referring to him as my copycat, since anything I'd do or post, he'd do or post it, too.

However, this time, I confronted the user and asked him why he took my new avatar and banner. He claimed he liked them so much, he had to use them. I asked him not to, telling him that I put a lot of work into making something unique for myself, and of course, he got mad... and then, in the same reply, asked me to make something for him. Just to be nice, I made him a banner... to which he offered no gratitude.

He wouldn't change the avatar, so I created myself a new one. Not even a day later, the exact moment he seen it, he took that avatar and applied it to his account, too. Yet again, I confronted him, demanding to know why he'd do that, as well as why he didn't even thank me for making that banner I made for him. He responded by claiming that I "made him cry"... and then quickly asked me to make him an avatar, too. I ignored his request.

Near the middle of December, a pal here on Tumblr messaged me about a concern he had. He made a text post about his plans to start his own daily pics, and that user on Twitter, now on Tumblr, copied and pasted his exact post onto his own account. If he copied all of my posts, he was surely going to do the same to my pal, too. We knew we had to put a stop to this, so we came up with a solution...

On December 18, 2020, I posted my first Daily, with text indicating it was mine. We were both curious to see how that copycat would react once he seen it.

He... didn't take it well.

This was actually his fifth message; he left four other ones, mere minutes apart from each other. When I didn't reply back after ten minutes (yes, ten minutes), he said this to me. Once I seen this, I blocked him, as anyone honestly would. He quickly followed me with some alternate account of his, but I found out it was him and blocked it, too. Afterwards, I figured this was going to be end of it; just another rude, childish person on Twitter, blocked and out of my life...

...right?

Nope. Ever since that day, he's been absolutely furious with me. Even to this day, he's refuses to let it go, and his copycat tendencies and attitude has only grown worse. Ah, but let's not get ahead of ourselves... no, there's more to the story. A lot more...

To say the least, when he left that message above and found out I blocked him, he started bad-mouthing me to many other people. Just about everyone took my side, and much to my surprise, Twitter banned him. At first, that seemed like the end of it again... but nope, he simply created another account not even a half-hour later... and he went back to using my avatar and banner again, because of course.

Less than a month later, another account started following me, this time themed around Chase. Suspiciously, I was one of the first it followed... and one of the first replies they left on my tweets?

"Can you remove your watermarks?"

Gee, I wonder who this might be? I ignored the message, and their third reply was... well, I'm sure you can guess it wasn't friendly.

I blocked this account, too. Again, I hoped this would be the end of it, but of course, it wasn't. You see, the one thing I learned about this user is that he's incredibly lazy. He doesn't want to do things in Photoshop or go hunting for pictures, so he just wants to take everything from me... and the official PAW Patrol account (he constantly reposts their content, too). When I stopped him from doing that, he became hostile. When I refused to remove my watermark, it just made things worse.

I don't have a picture of this, but a few days later, he created yet another account. This time, he pretended to be the "second official PAW Patrol account", using the actual PAW Patrol account's avatar and banner at the time (themed after Moto Pups, if I recall correctly). Naturally, I'm the first one he went to, and he left a reply on my latest daily about how I'm going to get into "trouble" if I don't stop being mean. I tore into him for this, telling him that no one will take his side, Twitter will just ban his account again, and to leave me alone.

He deleted the account less than a day later.

Things remained quiet for some time... or so I thought. From what others told me, he kept trying to get everyone to turn on me, usually by sending private messages to many users in the hopes of getting them to see me as some sort of bully. His plan failed, as nothing ever came out of it. Maybe it has to do with the fact I like trying to be positive and encouraging, and many of my followers have seen that over the years... whereas he's screamed at people for simply putting stickers on their Nintendo Switch. No, seriously... he has.

He kept trying, of course... often asking other users to tell me how "sorry" he was, despite the fact he kept leaving me nasty remarks the very same day. In fact, at one point, the Nick Jr. Twitter account made a post about asking their followers to post pics of their pets, I did so, Nick Jr. replied to me, and he found out and replied to them by saying "DON'T TALK TO HIM HE'S A BULLY HE'S MEAN TO ME!!!!" Needless to say, they ignored him, too.

This continued for a while, and over the following months, new accounts would pop up every now and then, usually based on certain PAW Patrol characters. They were all ran by him, and of course, I was always the first person he came to... and he'd always ask me to create a new avatar and banner for that account, and then he'd get mad when I either said no or ignored him. After so many accounts, I got tired of constantly blocking him, so when he popped up with yet another Marshall-themed account, I decided to just mute it and let him do or say whatever he wanted.

...He didn't take kindly to that, either. A few months later, he exploded into a fit of rage, claiming that I was being a bully by ignoring him. Let me repeat that; by ignoring him, I was being a bully. Oh, for Pete's sake...

A few folks took his side, but once I explained to them what was going on, most of them understood and apologized (trust me, I harbor no ill will against these folks). Once I made another tweet about the situation, I blocked that user yet again, noticing that he was continuing to badmouth me. I think he ended up deleting his account, telling everyone that's what I apparently wanted (I never once said any such thing, but whatever). I crossed my fingers and prayed that this would finally be the end of it all... but of course, it wasn't.

After a while, he came back with yet another account, only this time, he got a little less lazy. He finally decided to learn how to use a photo editing program... and how did he use his new-found skills? Why, to copy me again, of course!

Indeed, his dailies started to look exactly like mine. And yes, once he discovered the name of the font style I was using, he started using that, too. And it's not just a coincidence that he used the same pic...

As I soon realized, if he knew the exact episode I got my daily from, he'd use the same one. He did this at any opportunity he could, even when I posted a daily based on the first theatrical film.

At this point, some of you probably asking... why? Why's he doing this? Why go to such lengths to copy me? The answer is... I really don't know. He just really wants to be me, I guess.

Anyway, around the beginning of 2022, I created a new template for my Daily Marshall Pics. I'm still using that template now. Of course, when he found out, he got upset and started screaming at me again to make one for him (using another newly-created alternate account to get around me blocking him... which I promptly blocked).

What followed over the next year was the situation getting worse and worse. If I did anything of note, he'd create new accounts to voice his displeasure. If he got banned, he'd create a new account and head straight for me. There was a point where I blocked him, he created a new account, I blocked him, he created a new account... and we did this for eight accounts within a single day. I'm dead serious. Of course, his copycat tendencies just got worse, as his new-found skills in editing started leading him to do stuff like this...

Yup, he started covering my watermark with his own to make it seem like he was the one who made the picture. Oh, and it didn't just stop at pictures... nope, he did it with videos, too.

Actually, Twitter banned him for this one... and yes, he created a new account immediately afterwards again, and continued doing and posting the exact same things like it never happened. And I'm the first person he tried following, of course. But hey, at least his dailies don't look like mine anymore, right?

Sigh...

And no, it didn't even stop there. He tried to copy my banner, too.

Yes, his avatar shares similarities with mine, too. Funnily enough, a few users came to my defense and tried to get him to change his Daily template to something different so it would no longer look like mine. Surprisingly, he did change it, and I even gave my approval. I was cool with his new template...

...but I guess it didn't get him the attention he wanted, because he went right back to using something that looks exactly like mine again. He's still using it now, much to my annoyance.

The sad thing is, even if I change my template to something else, he'll just inevitably copy it. If I change my avatar and/or banner, he'll copy them, too. If I do anything, he'll copy it. If my followers come to my defense, report him, and he gets banned... he'll just create another account and continue doing the exact same thing anyway.

Oh, and he once made the claim that he's only doing this because he "doesn't know how to". Yes, he said that. He apparently doesn't know how, yet he sure knows how to cover my watermark with his own... and create a template that looks like mine. Yup, he's a dirty liar, too.

(Back in 2020, I did try to answer a few of his questions, including what editor I use. Once I told him it costs money, he went silent.)

As a reminder, this has been going on for three years.

I've tried ignoring the user, and it does no good. I've confronted him, and it does no good. I've asked him to stop, and it does no good. I've defended myself, and he acts like he's the victim. I ask him to let his anger go and stop, and he tells me I'm the one who needs to let it go and stop. Others have defended me, and he just whines and claims I'm a bully. And all of this is because I blocked him for leaving a rude reply when he lost his patience after ten minutes.

(By the way, someone confronted him about the whole ten minutes thing. He said it didn't matter, that I should've responded right away. I guess I'm supposed to stop everything I'm doing to reply to him...?)

To tell you all the truth, I've tried to be patient. I've tried to be nice... but after three years, I'm sick of it. This person is psychotic. Even when I block him, he keeps a tight eye on everything I do. He's become so obsessed with me, to the point that he's basically a stalker now. He wants to be me, yet he doesn't possess my skills, and that jealousy has turned to sheer bitterness. And whenever someone takes my side, he becomes aggressive, often creating even more alternate accounts to show he's not happy.

And yet, he thinks he's the victim. He's said before he wants me to stop talking about him, yet he continues taking or copying things from me. And again, when I ask him to stop, he refuses. At this point, I suppose he's only doing this now because he feels justified in doing so. I guess he thinks I need to pay for... what, not replying back after ten minutes? For wanting to be credited for my work when I make unique content and post them on my account? For trying to stop him from lazily reposting the things I post for his own gain?

When I started these MarshallPupFan accounts, I thought I was going to post some pics of a cute, cartoon puppy, make people laugh and smile with some videos, and have a fun time. I never expected I'd run into someone so... crazy. Honestly, I don't even care that he's posting daily pics of Marshall. I've seen others do the same, and I've even liked, replied and followed some of them. I enjoy inspiring others to be creative and share their love for their favorite characters... but why use my exact template? Why try to look exactly like me? Why not try to develop an identity for himself, so his account offers something unique? Instead, he constantly wants to bounce off of me, pretend to be me... and when I or anyone else intervenes, he becomes aggressive.

It's pathetic... and it'll probably go on for another year.

I recently created a new avatar for myself. I put a lot of work into making it something truly unique...but I don't know if I want to put it out there, since the moment I do, he'll inevitably copy it. I also updated the visuals for my Episode Updates pics... and as soon as I reveal it, it's only a matter of time before he copies it, too. And of course, if I or anyone else confronts him, he'll whine and get mad... and continue doing what he's always done anyway.

Truth be told, there are so many other examples of his terrible behavior I could post here... such as when he began hounding me on Youtube and screaming at me whenever he seen a comment I left on other PAW Patrol-themed accounts (to the point the owner of the channel had to intervene and tell him to stop... to which he replied "stop what?"). I have so many more stories to tell, but this post is turning out long enough, and I think I've stressed the point quite well.

It sucks that people like him have to exist, and it's so sad that he refuses to let go of a three year grudge, now going onto four. All I know is that it's getting to the point where I'm tired of it. I'm tired of seeing him use my Daily template, tired of him acting like an absolute crybaby when I defend myself, tired of... well, the whole thing. At this point, maybe I need to start fighting back more, because ignoring him sure isn't getting the job done.

If he's going to insist on using my template, then maybe I shouldn't take it so lightly anymore... 🤔

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Oh, one last thing. You want to see something funny? He has no problem taking stuff from me, but when someone does that to him... that's just wrong! Maybe someone needs to give him a dose of his own medicine more often... perhaps then he'd show more respect to others.