#mostly though I just want to be friends with everyone you're all so cool

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[ellecdc]

okay so I just wanted to start by saying I love you're moonwater stories so much.

Ive been thinking about this like paring ig for a bit and your recent moonwater story when r gets home from girls night just made me think of it more so if you're interested id love for you to do it.

Basically its like poly moonwater plus Barty ive been calling it moonwaterkiller in my head (idk if its already a ship or already has a name but I haven't been able to find anything) but basically I feel like r and Barty would be like a chaotic duo and reg and rem would just be like wtf a lot idk... I just think it has some potential and I just love your writing so fucking much.

(I also just love how you write Barty)

so if you're interested I think it would be cool

much love :)

I love the way your mind works babes. thanks for your request! (it's almost two am where I am so please forgive any awkward sentences or spelling mistakes). also, if I didn't completely lose everyone with my DeathStar fics - this may very well do it. && this was written with the help of our fabulous @unstablereader

poly!moonwater x chaotic fem!reader + Barty Crouch Junior

Regulus didn’t know whether to be concerned or slightly aroused at the slightly deranged way that Remus was stalking the halls in search of you and Barty. 

You and Regulus had both at one point or another been in a friends-with-benefits situation with Barty (albeit separately) during your time in school, before you and Regulus went and fell in love with a Gryffindor. 

Regulus still wasn’t quite over the humiliation; both of falling in love and falling in love with a Gryffindor.

Of course, you and Regulus both stayed friends with Barty; Regulus mostly because he couldn’t shake him (ignoring the fact that Regulus really was quite fond of his maniacal friend), and you because the two of you really were sort of two sides of the same hyperactive galleon. 

And though Remus (and sometimes Regulus) liked to pretend that yours and Barty’s friendship caused them grief, they couldn’t deny how much they valued Barty’s loyalty and devotion to his friends; specifically you. 

Regulus’ new favourite thing was easily Remus’ new found appreciation for Barty. 

Up until this point, Barty had been his notoriously flirty and salacious self when it came to the likes of Remus, who wasn’t yet accustomed to Barty’s unique…personality.

However, once Remus realised the history between his two partners and the other Slytherin boy, he quickly came to appreciate the kind of pull Barty could have on people.

So, Remus had started flirting back.

Barty hated it.

Regulus loved it.

You started keeping track of the number of times Remus reduced Barty to a blushing and stuttering mess in your notebook. 

Barty hated that too.

It was nearing curfew and Remus and Regulus hadn’t seen you all afternoon. 

Usually that was fine, considering you were a bit of a free spirit. What was concerning, however, was that they hadn’t seen Barty either.

Regulus watched as Remus checked the stupid map that his brother and their friends had created when his brows furrowed in confusion.

“What? Don’t tell me they’re in the middle of the Black Lake again?” Regulus asked quickly, moving to stand over Remus’ shoulder to peer at the map.

“Again?”

“Don’t ask.” Regulus muttered.

“But…doesn’t Barty not know how to swim?”

“I said don’t ask.”

Seeming to know better, Remus turned back and pointed towards the Ravenclaw common room on the map. “It says they’re up in Ravenclaw tower?”

“For fuck’s sake.” Regulus muttered, dragging a hand over his face.

“How’d two Slytherin’s manage to get into Ravenclaw tower?” Remus asked bemusedly, earning him an unimpressed glare from Regulus. 

“Remus, I love you, but that was perhaps the dumbest question you’ve ever asked me.”

Remus rolled his eyes as he closed the map and tucked it back into his trunk.

“Come on, we might be able to catch up to Pandora on her way up and have her help us in.” 

They had indeed caught up to Pandora, and Pandora had indeed helped them in, though it seemed to be for naught. 

“I thought your stupid map said they were here.” Regulus muttered as he surveyed the common room, unable to spot a single lick of green and silver.

“It’s not stupid and they are in here.” Remus muttered back, moving to stand in the dead centre of the room. 

“How do you know they’re here if you can’t see them?”

Remus glared at Regulus before looking around to ensure no one could hear them. “I can smell them.” He whispered.

Well Regulus just didn’t know what good these wolfy senses were if they were still out two Slytherin’s. 

“Shit.” Regulus heard whispered suddenly as a quill fell from the air and landed beside his foot.

Remus and Regulus both looked up to see you and Barty casually lounging in the chandelier above them.

“Are you sodding kidding me!?” Regulus shouted.

“I think our cover’s been blown.” You said simply to Barty as if you didn’t have two fuming and fretting boyfriends standing nearly forty feet give or take below you.

“Pity.” Barty responded as he peered down. “This was a nice refuge.”

“How’d you even get up there?” Remus cried, pacing like he was getting ready to catch you should you fall.

“Magic.” Barty taunted from above.

“Junior, so help me gods if that witch falls I-”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, Lupin. I resent the insinuation that I would ever let anything happen to our sweet angel baby.” Barty bit back immediately.

“Okay, okay. Fair enough.” Remus acquiesced as if he were negotiating a hostage situation. “Why don’t you both just come down here, nice and slow, okay?”

Both you and Barty leaned forward to look down at the two boys, causing the chandelier to swing precariously.

“Fucking hells! Stop moving!” Remus shrieked, causing the attention of the few Ravenclaws sitting in the common room to look over.

“Such a worrier.” Barty muttered as he stood and started manoeuvring himself to the edge of the chandelier - you following him over and causing the chandelier to tip to a nearly 90 degree angle. 

“I’m going to be sick, I’m actually going to throw up right here.” Regulus muttered mostly to himself whilst Remus tried to stand directly underneath you lest you need to be caught. 

To Remus and Regulus’ absolute horror, Barty launched himself away from the chandelier, grabbing at the billowy banners hanging from the ceiling causing the chandelier to swing away from him like a pendulum. 

“JUNIOR!” Remus shouted, causing Barty to momentarily look shamefaced as he looked below him. 

As the chandelier swung towards the opposite wall, you too launched yourself at one of the billowy banners hanging from the ceiling and began monkey climbing down them.

“Can you make sure she doesn’t fall, please.” Remus barked at Regulus as he made his way towards Barty.

Barty let out a high pitched screech and began hastily making his way down the wall. “Run Treasure! Save yourself!” He shouted dramatically.

You turned quickly at that and saw Regulus making his way to you.

You let out a surprised squeak and hurried down, and before Regulus realised what you were doing, you had used your wand to open one of the windows and were shimmying out.

“Oi! What the-” but before Regulus could even shove his torso out the window, you’d managed to shift into your animagus form - a mink, which Regulus felt was very fitting considering what a sodding cheeky minx you were being right now - and began scaling your way down the side of the building.

Regulus was interrupted by the sound of a squeal - Remus’ squeal - and turned to see Remus hanging halfway out of the window in much the same fashion that Regulus had been.

Unlike Regulus, however, Remus had been successful in his capture of Barty and had him hanging from the tallest tower at Hogwarts by one of his arms.

“Junior! Are you trying to sodding kill me!?” Remus barked angrily at him, trying to pull Barty up without any help from Barty himself.

Barty looked up at Remus with all the innocence he could muster (read: none) and winked. 

“Catch me if you can, Mr. Wolf.”

And Barty shrunk into his own animagus form - an osprey - and let out a cry before swooping down to pick up something that looked suspiciously like a mink from the eaves of one of the lower towers and took off towards the grounds. 

“Fucking son of a bitch.” Remus cursed as he tried catching his breath, still sitting half out of the Ravenclaw window. “Why do we put up with those two?”

Regulus shrugged with all the nonchalance he could muster. “‘Cause they’re cute?”

Remus sighed and hit his head against the windowsill. “They’re so sodding lucky that they are…”

“Come on.” Regulus said, offering Remus a hand and helping him out of the window. “Unfortunately, I know exactly where they went.”

Barty loved nothing more than the feeling of his feet sinking into the sediment of the Black Lake below his feet. He also loved the feeling of being near you, his Treasure. He also loved the idea of two handsome men frantically searching for you, and him by proxy.

All this to say, Barty was having a really nice night.

“Junior!”

Barty’s face morphed into a Cheshire cat grin as he turned towards the voice of the man and his boyfriend as they stormed towards the waters edge.

“Well hello, Lupin. How nice of you to join us; care for a dip?”

“Get out of the water.” Regulus drawled in a bored tone.

“Why would I do such a thing? The water’s lovely, I’m in wonderful company, and we’re going to feed the Giant Squid.” He argued.

“Barty.” Remus barked with all the severity he could manage. “You don’t know how to swim.”

Barty scoffed indignantly. “Yeah, well…neither can Reggie!”

“That’s why I’m standing on the shore you absolute bell-end.” Regulus countered quickly.

Remus turned his furious gaze into a bemused one as he took in Regulus. “Do you really not know how to swim either?”

“None of us can!” You shouted from your disturbingly deeper place within the lake as the gentle waves nearly lapped against your skirt.

“Oh, for the love of- you know what? This summer, everyone’s getting swimming lessons.” Remus proclaimed.

“Ou, does that mean I get to see you in your swim trunks, Lupin?” Barty called.

Remus, without missing a beat, started towards Barty, walking into the lake in his shoes and all. “You could see me right now, in less, for free, Junior. You only had to ask.”

Barty let out a screech and tried running towards you, albeit in slow motion on account of the water’s resistance. “Y/N! Treasure! Help! Make him stop!”

“No can do, bubs.” You called back in monotone, still throwing chunks of bread towards the middle of the Lake in hopes of eliciting the company of one Giant Squid. 

“Dove, you’re going to catch a cold; get out of the water.” Remus called to you, pants soaked up to his knees after giving up on chasing Barty in the water.

“We’re trying to make friends!” You whined.

“You cannot make friends with a squid, amour. He will eat you.” Regulus explained from the shore. 

“He wouldn’t eat his friend.” You scoffed. 

“Dove.” Remus barked again.

“I want to see the the big water kitty!” You whined again, turning towards the boys and offering the most pathetic pout you could muster.

Regulus scoffed from his place, still dry on the shore, Remus let out a pained sigh, and Barty all but skipped towards you. 

“A valiant death it will be!” He cheered before he felt the fabric of his jumper being summoned by an accio, dragging him unceremoniously through the water towards Remus.

“No! Ah! AH! STRANGER DANGER. STRANGER DANGER!” He shrieked as Remus threw him over his shoulder.

“Okay, well, now you’re just showing off, Lupin.” He muttered, crossing his arm petulantly as Remus held his free hand out to you.

“Dove, please? Come inside with me?”

You looked distressed at this and moved obediently towards Remus. “Are you mad at me?” You asked timidly.

Barty could actually feel Remus’ body soften beneath him as he allowed some of his tension to dissipate. “Of course not, dovey. I love you.”

You leaned over and pecked a kiss to the corner of his mouth before turning into your animagus mink and swimming to the shore, crawling up Regulus’ pant leg (who admonished you in faux contempt for ruining his trousers), and allowed him to carry you back to the castle. 

Barty was feeling petulant about the whole matter of being chased and chastised so decided then that he was going to force Remus to carry him all the way back to the castle in silence.

Unfortunately for Barty, he hated silence.

He was at least proud he’d made it to the dungeons before giving up on his vow of silence.

“You’re really not upset with her?” Barty asked quietly from his current prison. He could feel Remus’ head tilt in confusion, though his steps never faltered.

“Of course not?” He responded as a question.

“Hmmm.” Barty said, racking his brain for something to upset or fluster this man.

“Oh! What about me having slept with both your boyfriend and your girlfriend?”

“What about it?” Remus asked plainly. 

“Well…aren’t you upset about that?”

Remus scoffed and adjusted his grip on Barty, hand’s migrating none too innocently up the back of his thighs. “Junior. The only thing I’m upset about is that you haven’t slept with all three of us. I don’t like feeling left out, you know?”

Barty made a strangled sound as he struggled in Remus’ grip to no avail, causing you and Regulus to chuckle from a few strides ahead as you all stepped into the Slytherin common room.

“We told you he was smooth, Barty.” You chuckled.

“You should hear him in bed.” Regulus taunted, reaching over to pinch Barty’s arse, causing him to yelp and start cursing at him.

Remus relented and put Barty down, who immediately made for Regulus’ throat.

“Easy, Junior.” Remus chuckled, pulling him back by the shoulder. “You wanna keep Reg around, don’t you?”

Barty harrumphed and crossed his arms indignantly.

“We’d like to keep you around.” Remus continued.

Barty grumbled again and let out a quiet. “Fine.”

Remus beamed at him, which was very alarming if you asked Barty, as they stepped into his and Regulus’ shared dorm; Rosier and Avery were already asleep in their beds with their curtains drawn.

“Yeah? You’ll let us keep you?” Remus asked.

“I said fine, Lupin.” He bit back.

“Great. So we’re in a relationship then.” He explained simply, causing Barty to level him with a severe glare. “How dare you, Lupin. Never say such vile things to me again.” He spat before storming towards the boy’s bathroom.

Regulus groaned and grabbed his own toiletries before making his way to the washroom behind him. “I’ll go make sure he doesn’t try to drown himself in the shower again.”

Remus shook his head and changed into his pyjamas before climbing into Regulus’ bed and pulling you towards him.

“So, explain this to me, Dove. Why is Barty the way he is?”

You snorted a laugh and turned to face him. “You’re going to have to be way more specific, love.”

Remus chuckled and ran his hands up and down your back. “He likes Reg. He loves you. He seems sweet on me. We invite him to be ours and he accepts - but runs when we make it mean something?”

You smiled up at your boyfriend and booped his nose with a perfectly manicured finger - which Remus found very confusing considering you spend your spare time scaling the rafters of grand ceilings and enticing Giant Squids from their hiding places. “Barty doesn’t understand, Rem. He wouldn’t know love if it punched him right in the face.”

Remus could feel his brows furrow and he pulled you in tighter to his chest. “Dove…love doesn’t punch you in the face?”

Apparently that had been the wrong thing to say as you rolled your eyes in exasperation and threw your head back onto the pillow. “You see? That’s the kind of thing someone who grew up loved would know.”

It’s not that Remus ever really forgot to worry about you per se, but he sometimes really worried about you Purebloods. 

At some point in the night, you had apparently decided Remus and Regulus’ bed was too hot and moved to Barty’s. Remus would have been slightly more petulant about the matter if he hadn’t thought you looked absolutely precious with Barty resting his head on your chest.

He looked so innocent in his sleep.

Sleep clearly didn’t know him very well.

Remus was shocked when the four of you entered the Great Hall for breakfast and Barty actually followed you three to the Gryffindor table. Though Remus was trying to play it cool, he couldn’t help but feel a flutter of hope surge within him at what that might mean for the three four of you.

Remus was just about to bite into his toast when a sultry voice sounded from behind Barty.

“Hello, Bartemus.” Amelia Bones sing-songed as she trailed a finger up Barty’s arm.

His brows furrowed almost comically from above the rim of his coffee cup before he slowly lowered it and turned to consider the Hufflepuff.

“Bones. Can I help you?” He asked, punctuating the word help as he plucked her fingers from his being between his two fingers as if he’d found something really quite disgusting on his person.

“I was thinking, you could help me, perhaps tonight?”

Barty turned to look at her incredulously.

“Help with what, Amelia? I’m really quite busy.” He spat, gesturing wildly to his cup of coffee. 

“An orgasm or two? Gods, you’re pissy in the mornings.”

Barty scoffed, sounding completely scandalised as he clutched at non-existent pearls adorning his neck. “I am sitting here with my beloveds, Amelia. For shame. You see this lot? I’m theirs, capiche?” 

Amelia looked bemusedly at the group of you before shaking her head in confusion. “Whatever you say, Junior.”

She moseyed on away, and Barty turned back towards his cup of coffee. “The gall of some people, honestly.” He said in exasperation, downing the rest of his still hot coffee and standing unceremoniously.

“Well, I best be off. Things to fuck up, people to scare. Tah-tah.” He called, pressing a quick kiss to your hair as he left the Great Hall.

Suddenly, realisation dawned on Remus.

“Ah, I see. So no to a relationship, but he is ours.”

You and Regulus chorused a hum of acknowledgement. 

“That’s just how Barty operates. You’ll get used to it.” You explained, still not looking up from the Daily Prophet you had been reading all this time.

Remus didn’t mind getting used to that; not if it meant he managed to get everything he wanted.

[duckwithablog]

⋰ ⊹˚. ♡ Alone on Valentines? ⋰ ⊹˚. ♡

I was halfway done before most of this got deleted. I am going to scream cry and convulse on the floor. As it's way to late for me to be awake rn, I'll just do this in two parts, for the sake of my sanity </33

I know for a fact that most of us are probably gonna be spending this Valentine's alone, reading fanfic, and honestly same. But let's imagine for a second that that isn't the case.

The turtles react to you being alone on Valentines Day

GN reader, romantic, crushing/pining, fluff

Raphael

flabbergasted

like that's his initial reaction

i imagine that you guys would just be chilling in the lair, talking, and you slip out that you might be spending valentine's alone

he goes "oh, okay!" before he double takes and says

"wait- really?"

he honestly thought that you would've had a date for valentine's this year

because like... why wouldn't you? you're so attractive, and charming, and lovable, who wouldn't want to date you?

no matter how you feel about being alone (unbothered, sad, etc etc) raph will do everything he can to make you feel better

you don't deserve to be alone! no one does!

so he proudly states that "if you don't have anyone to spend the day with, then raph'll spend it with you! there! now you won't be alone anymore."

he says this all with this big smile

doesn't realize that he basically just asked to be your date

you realize it tho

ofc, you say yes, because who can say no to raph?

and raph just nods to himself, proud, before he processes what he just said

oh. he just scored a date with you.

jaw drops at this realization. OH. HE JUST SCORED A DATE. WITH YOU.

BY ACCIDENT??

vows to make this the best valentine's you'll ever experience

it might be hard, being a giant turtle and all, but by pizza supreme is he gonna try his best anyways

Donatello

bro you didn't even tell him this information

he literally eavesdropped on your conversation with april while he was nearby

pretends to be really engrossed in whatever he was doing while he strains to listen to what you guys are saying

is also confused when he finds out. according to his statistics, you have plenty of qualities that make you attractive. so why are you spending valentine's alone?

forgets that the data he used to make said statistics are based off of his experiences with you. He then considers that maybe not everybody got butterflies in their stomach whenever you were around

BRO HAD TO REMIND HIMSELF THAT NOT EVERYONE HAD A CRUSH ON YOU LMAO

when april leaves the room, he internally goes aha! an opportunity! and tries to make a move

he acts cool as he talks to you, but don't be fooled, he is internally combusting

not so subtly suggests that you should spend valentine's in the lair with him instead of being alone. tells you that not all love is romantic, and as... friends... you guys have a right to celebrate today as well

damn he is not making this easier on himself

of course, his brothers and april are gonna be there too!! obviously!!

you get to spend time with all of them.

... mostly with donnie, though. especially with donnie.

if you agree, he'd say "perfect! shall we call it a date, then?"

say yes. the look on his face and the growing blush on his cheeks is so worth it

[useeer]

Dance with me?

Venture, aka Sloan Cameron x reader

You're at your friends wedding, and somehow meet the cutest damn person in the world.

Tags: fluff, strong language, slight sexual innuendo

Enjoy!!

[Note: I haven't written a fic in 192739 yrs, and my ass hasn't been to a wedding since I was 10 so forgive my ignorance abt how they go!!]

You weren't exactly a party person.

Parties are loud, crowded and really socially taxing. While yes, you'd attend parties here and there; mostly birthdays or accomplishments for friends and family. It still wasn't your favorite thing to do. You are actually pretty upfront with others about how little social interaction you can handle. That being said... fear of disappointing your friends usually got the better of you. They were fine, partying was fun. 

Honestly, you'd be lying to everyone if you said you weren't thinking about your soft, cozy bed. Or how you were daydreaming about cuddling up to your pets and watching silly videos. Not even this beautiful wedding could curb your introvert nature.

It's evening now, the golden rays barely peeking over the horizon as it descends. A sweet, cool autumn breeze blows, ruffling your clothes and hair. A welcome comfort on this warm night.

The setting is truly beautiful. Soft, golden glowing lanterns are strung along the edges of the venue. Lush green plants in decorative pots line the edges. The pillars, stone and brick, are painted in the gentle glow of the lamps and lanterns. The style...is Greek? At least you think it's Greek. If someone told you otherwise, though, you'd take their word for it. Especially since half the people here are from the Wayfinder Society, all attending as friends of the groom. The wayfinders are sprinkled around the venue, chatting about and having a grand old time.

You? No such luck, you're only attending for your friend, who happens to be the other groom. While you know a handful of people, and did polite chit chat with them, you mostly stuck to yourself. Actually, that's a lie, you mostly stuck to the snack table. You're leaning by the side of it, plate in hand, trying just about anything there. I mean, what else are you supposed to do? 

While eating a particularly good cube of cheese, you let your eyes wander the room. You see a group of people laughing, another group chattering amongst themselves, one enthusiastically waving their hands in the air, seemingly very passionate about the subject. You snort, amused. Drifting eyes finally move over to the husbands, who were talking to an older couple, a quick hug is given here and there. 

Man. You were bored.

You weren't trying to be disrespectful here, you just didn't know anyone. Subconsciously, your leg starts bouncing, your thoughts dance to your fluffy, comfy bed. Reaching down for another snack on your plate, you’re disappointed to see they're all gone. Frowning a bit, you look over the table to see if there's anything else you'd like to try.

And boy, was there. The chocolate hair, the hazel skin, your eyes instantly locked onto the person plating their own food. They're dressed in a white button down, and black slacks, the sleeves of their dress shirt hugging them favorably. They even had a cute little yellow bowtie on. You couldn't tell their pronouns, so you figure you'd ask if you ever spoke. Which you weren't, you didn't want to intrude. They looked to be the same person absolutely raving earlier, you'd hate to keep them from it.

If they wanna speak to me, they will. You thought distantly, watching their hands as they pluck up a cupcake. 

Workers' hands. You mused, they seemed rough, and strong. They must be one of those Wayfinders. Your eyes trail their fingers, the back of their hand, man...they have really nice hands. Unbeknownst to you, your staring hasn't gone unnoticed. Their hands stills, just before the confectionery hits the plate. 

"Uhm... did you want this one?" They ask someone, curious, you look up to see who they're talking to. You finally get to see their face properly, and man they're gorgeous. Too bad you didn't have time to appreciate that fact, as your eyes instantly locked with theirs. You realize a little too late that you're the one they're talking to.

"Huh." Is all you manage to get out, unsure what the fuck to say to this stranger.

"The...cupcake?" They say, motioning it towards you. "Did you want it? You're staring at it like you want it." They say, clearly confused by the way you ogled their food.

"No- no I don't want it. I'm so sorry, ignore me." You cover your face and wave a hand in their direction, this is the worst thing you've ever done. Your face and ears burn in red hot embarrassment, you're just lucky they thought all you wanted was the damn cupcake.

They seem to find it a little funny now, how you're running away from the cupcake you were practically stalking as it left the platter. "Okayyyy, well then this is mine!" They joke, putting it onto their plate before strutting away, seemingly unperturbed by your god awful screw up.

God, you needed to sit down. 

You're practically on fire, feeling like you're gonna break into a sweat. Shakily, you find a chair in a less populated area and take a seat. You bend over, putting your face in your hands and elbows on your knees, as if trying to hide yourself. While you know, reasonably, that this isn't the end of the world, you can't help but feel like it is. You got caught! Red handed! 

Yes, they thought it was the cupcake, so maybe you weren't totally fucked. But also, you're totally fucked who are you kidding?!

You didn't exactly think you'd interact with them before, but it's awful your only interaction was weird and unseemly on your end. Groaning quietly, you remove one hand from your face to fan yourself, damn you feel stupid. 

You fan open part of your outfit, hoping in vain to let more air in to cool yourself down. Freaking out like this isn't a good look. After a couple minutes, you start to feel a little better. The flush of your cheeks is fading, and you miraculously avoided breaking into an anxious sweat. 

Sighing, you puff out your lips, you just sent texts to your closest friend about how massively you fumbled the bag. They laughed at you, while you scream-spammed the chat in horror. They did end up reassuring you that you were overreacting, that it was not in fact the end of the world. You thanked them before turning off your phone. You get up, dust yourself off a little before wandering back to the food table; finding yourself in front of the disposable drink cups, grabbing one. Gazing to the left, you find the water. You watch the water slowly drizzle into your cup, before downing the glass in a couple large gulps. Still thirsty, you fill it up again before returning to your seat.

Man, what a day, go to a beautiful wedding, see your friend get married, then fumble the biggest bag ever. You mentally kick yourself, even though on the outside, you look completely normal, sipping on your cup naturally.

Bouncing your foot a bit, you lean forward to scroll on your phone, hoping to find something interesting to pass the time and distract you. You're scrolling for about 5 minutes before someone sits next to you. Out of politeness you don't look, thinking it's another guest needing a seat. 

"Soo, about that cupcake. I ate it, definitely. But I felt a little bad. Here." The person next to you says, snapping you out of your doom scrolling. 

Why. Why why why. Is all you can think. They're fucking with you, haunting you. All over a cupcake. You look over and see they've got a small plate with another damn cupcake on it.

"Oh im- I'm not hungry anymore, thanks though." You try to nicely deflect, hoping they'll catch the hint and let you die in shame, alone. 

"Hmm, okay!" They say, they turn to face forward, unwrapping it for themself. They take a bite and bounce one of their legs, and you wonder why they're torturing you. They hum to themself as they continue to eat.

God. Please just go away...

They put their plate down and dust their hands, somehow already finishing the sickeningly sweet treat. "So." They state, placing both hands on either side of their seat, leaning forward, looking towards you. "Whatcha doing over here all by yourself?" They ask curiously.

"Well uh-" You clear your throat, "My friend’s the groom, it's his wedding. But I don't really know anyone else but him." You shrug, trying to relax and ease into conversation with them.

"Yeah, know how that feels." They say, sympathetically. "Wellll." They draw out the word, as if to emphasize it. "I was thinkin’ you could come to our table! I hate seeing anyone left out." Their smile is reassuring, until they start smirking. "Even. If. They stare at other people's food." 

Ok, you can't help it. You groan at their jab, while dragging a hand down your face. "Man, you will not drop that, huh?" You say, only a little less embarrassed this time. 

"Nope!" They tease, clearly getting a kick outta this. 

"You know what, I barely know you and you're already the worst." You joke, and your brain nearly breaks in two when they giggle at it. Their shoulders shake and they grin, still looking at you. You can't help but smile, even while trying really hard not to. They were stunning, cute and worst of all, infuriating. 

"Sorry for staring earlier...I was trying to see... your cufflinks." You say, clearly lying. As if desperately attempting to get out of the cupcake joke jail.

"Hmmm." They hum, unbelieving, eyebrows raised and nodding. "Well, too bad I don't have those." They smile, raising a hand up to show off their sleeve. 

You instantly cringe, caught once again. "Oh right." You mumble out, pursing your lips. Damn, you're fighting for your fucking life over here.

Your reaction makes them laugh. An honest to god laugh, and it's loud. They're finding WAY too much amusement in proving you wrong and you don't know why. Despite the embarrassment, you were now enjoying yourself. Talking to them, joking around, even if it's at your expense. Their laugh is almost contagious, and they've got the prettiest smile you've ever seen. 

"So.. what's your name?" You ask, your left hand fiddling anxiously at your side. Their laugh simmers down, and they sigh like they just heard the funniest joke in the world.

They hold their hand out towards you, "Sloane, yours?" You grab their hand and shake it, their grip firm. Your brain almost short circuits, realizing how much larger their hand is to yours. You say your name, and they repeat it. 

 

"It's nice to meet you!" They say, shaking your hand once more before letting it go.

"Sloane is a really pretty name." You state, trying to make conversation. Totally, 100% not flirting with them, of course.

"Awe shucks, you think so? Well I like yours too." They shoot back, their cheerful glow never dropping. They look over, and you do the same. You see them eyeing the table they came from. It appears someone stole their seat. 

"Oh, I'm sorry." You immediately apologize, feeling bad that their place was taken while talking to you. They shake their head and huff a little laugh, their curly hair bouncing. 

"Why're you sorry? Don't be. Plus, it's no biggie." They say nonchalantly, genuinely unphased. They crack a smile and lean forward, as if they're sharing a secret. "Don't worry, I'll get back at them." They whisper, a mischievous gleam in their eyes.

You giggle, and pull back a little. "What're you gonna do huh?"

They pull an inquisitive face, staring up at the ceiling almost performatively. "I dunno! Maybe I'll put confetti in all of their tents!" They announce, toying with the idea. You couldn't tell if they're serious or not. 

"You probably shouldn't do that." You jokingly warn, thinking abt how much of a pain confetti would be to get out of a tent. Much less the sleeping bags. 

Sloane grins, shining that gorgeous smile again. They seem to be the happiest person in the world. "Well, that's what they get for kicking me out of my own seat!"

You shake your head and let out a small chuckle, "You really are something."

They push you by the shoulder a bit, "I'm a great something I'll have you know." They joke, before settling back in their seat. 

Silence settles over the two of you for a bit, and it nearly becomes unbearable. That is until music begins to play. The lights towards the middle of the room light up, and the rest are dimmed to create a spotlight effect. The happy couple's chosen song is playing, and you watch as they approach the center of the room, beginning to dance. You smile, and awe at the sight. Seeing your friend so happy and glowing was truly a treat.

Sloane also watches, they love parties and weddings. Seeing two people so in love is one of life's many treasures. They look over towards you and see you recording your friends dance, they allow a small smile creep onto their face. They admire your side profile and the way your hair compliments you perfectly. You are eye-catching, and the way you practically folded over a cupcake earlier was hilarious. They love funny things, so they've GOT to get to know you. Exploring is one of their favorite things after all. 

They settle back and turn their attention to the dance. Eventually the music begins to wind down, and one of the grooms leaves the dance floor. It's the parents' dance, they think. Now that it isn't your friend out there, you click off the record button and look over to Sloane.

"So, what brings you here?" You ask, making conversation with them. They turn their head to face you, their hands loosely clasped together on their lap. 

"I'm from the wayfinders society! The other groom, Rey, is my good friend." They chirp, pointing at your friends now husband. "Y’know, me and him got lost once in a cave! Scary stuff, didn't know if we'd make it out." They said dramatically, waggling their fingers in your direction. 

"You serious??" You furrow your brow, and lean forward incredulously. Their warm dark eyes look back to their friend, and they nod. "Yeah, it was a couple years ago. We lost sight of our team, and couldn't find our way out. I ended up drilling us a new exit. Real risky doing that but we didn't have a choice." Sloane recounts, "Could've been worse!" They add, trying to lighten the mood a bit.

"That's crazy, I could never do anything like that." You tap your foot against the ground, even thinking about that type of stuff gets you wound up.

They turn back to you with a hum and smile, "Well, you never know until you try! Exploring is the best thing I've ever done for myself, I love it. Seeing what the world was like before us… finding the rocks and gems the earth has made. It's real worth it." Their passion is evident, every word they speak has them glowing. You admit it's rather charming, seeing them so in love with their work. 

"Man, that's so cool." You state warmly. "You got a really cool job, Sloane. You got the job little kids dream of." 

They smile genuinely, really happy with the thought. "Well my abuela always said to follow your dreams, so I did. What about you? What's your dream?" They gently nudge your shoe with theirs.

"Hmmm, well. I guess I'm still trying to figure that out." You hum, looking at the ground. Your interests aren't nearly as exciting as theirs. Working one dead end job to the next, just trying to make ends meet. "Thinking tattooing, honestly." You add, looking up at them.

Sloane gasps, eyes widening. "That's so awesome though! I love tattoos, I've got at least four or five." They pull down the collar of their button down to reveal more of the flames tattooed across their neck. You'd be lying if you said you hadn't already noticed it. Wanting to see how far down it goes.

Quickly, you bat those thoughts away. Sticking to complimenting the line work and blocking of their tattoo. You ask what others they've got, and they explain all the patchwork they've got done on their arms. Some historical, some cool, some just to have a piece of the places they've been. They even mention a larger one on their thigh, a dinosaur skull with flowers. You try not to sound too interested in seeing them while asking if they have pictures. 

The conversation between you and Sloane runs smoothly, chattering about your lives and cracking jokes at one another's expense. The dancing at the party is now in full swing, guests of all types littering the dance floor. It's now completely dark outside, save for the lighting inside the venue. The lamps hanging from the ceiling are dimly glowing, the lanterns now back to their full glow. You even spot fireflies outside the venue, blinking on and off, flying into the wedding space and out. The place is truly beautiful.

The strumming of a bass fills the venue, an electronic guitar complimenting it perfectly. You recognize it instantly, as it's a song you've come to enjoy. Your new friend, Sloane, practically jumps out of their skin in excitement. They quickly whip their head to look at you while whisper shouting, "I love this song!!"

They bolt up, staring at the dance floor as both their feet hit the ground with a soft thud. They twirl their whole body around, looking at you with an outstretched hand, "Come dance with me??" They frantically blurt out.

You look dumbly at Sloane before slinking back into your chair a bit, cringing. "No no- I don't dance." While waving a hand in their direction dismissively. You're hesitant and it's obvious. The idea of getting in the middle of a bunch of people and dancing. God, not what you were made for.

You were telling the truth, you don't dance! Anyone seeing you attempt to dance may need an ambulance. Sloane slumps by your reaction, and pokes conversationally, "Aww c’monnn, pretty please? With cherries on top? One song?" They say, leaning backwards a bit on the heels of their feet while keeping their upper body forward. They begin pouting a lip out and sporting their best puppy dog eyes, hoping it'll help sway their case. 

Nervously, you rub your pointer finger across your thumb. This is not what I signed up for, you think as your lips form a line, eyes locking with Sloanes, trying to will yourself into saying no.

Damn.

You can't. You can't say no! You know you'd kick yourself later if you left without dancing with them. They're everything you like in someone, striking, funny, passionate... You internally groan, searching their dark eyes for a way out. Sadly, there isn't one. Their eyes only plead and beg.

And well... who are you to deny them?

Breathing in a deep, deep sigh, you fold, "Okayy. Okay." You say, holding both hands up, signaling defeat.

Sloane is about to shout out a glorious, loud YES before you cut them off with a finger up. "But first, a shot of liquid courage." You say, pushing yourself up from your chair, walking towards the end of the food table. There lay countless plastic shot glasses full of vodka. You pluck one from the rim of the platter.

Sloane watches as you down the drink, admiring the way your throat moves to swallow. They snort when they see you pulling a face.

"C'mon- c'mon- the song is already going." They bounce, having to fight the urge to just drag you onto the dance floor themself. Shaking your head, you wipe away the grimace on your face and discard the tiny shot glass into the nearby garbage.

They grab your hand and pull you into the crowd, though they seem somewhat aware of your aversion to it. So they lead you towards a less populated end of the floor, despite this, nearly everyone at the wedding was dancing. So you were still around a decent amount of people. They smile wide, looking off into the gaggle of party goers. You find it ironic this is the song you're dancing to, the lyrics playing loudly.

We've got nowhere to go

We've got nothing to prove

Instead of dancing alone

I should be dancing with you

The lyrics are slightly erotic, even, but you don't have much time to ponder it when they turn back to face you. They release your hand, before snapping their fingers in tune with the beat and swaying their hips. You giggle, your cheeks and stomach buzzing from the alcohol. Unfortunately for Sloane, you do not know how to dance. Not well at least, they laugh, watching you sway awkwardly. "You don't dance do you?" They ask, almost having to shout to be heard over the clamor of people and music.

"No, not really!" You reply, before admitting, "I don't wanna look dumb!" 

"Look dumb?! I'll show you dumb." They jest, backing up a bit to give themself some space. With their eyes locked onto yours, they bend their knees while bringing their right hand towards their head, palm open. They're walking towards you sideways, left hand swiping back and forth to their side and front. You about shit yourself, recoiling in shock and laughing. They continue though, bringing both hands up in fists towards their head, pumping them as they shake their hips, still approaching you. 

"What are you doing!!" You shout, cracking up at their absurdity. They finally pivot fully towards you, bending forward and moving their hands in circles. They finish off their charade with a performative strut your way, palms open in a dramatic walk. 

They laugh, grabbing one of your hands and pulling you further into the floor. "I'm dancing!! You should try it sometime!" They jive, sticking their tongue out. "I'm just saying, no one can look sillier than me!" You roll your eyes and shake your head. The smile never leaving your face.

They grab your other hand and start dancing for you, swaying you side to side. You can't help but giggle, letting them have their fun. You sway your hips and release their hands, moving yours back, snapping your fingers while doing circles and stepping side to side. Their grin widens and they yell, "Hell yeah! get it!!" Encouraging you. 

Smiling big, you continue attempting to dance with them. Sloane closes their eyes and lets themself feel the music, they move their feet expertly, and their arm movements intentionally. Seeing this makes you realize they definitely know how to dance. Your eyes explore them, their body and the way they move. It feels dirty watching them like this…But they invited you to dance, you think maybe they want you to watch them. Enjoy them, drink them up. 

It feels as though they've already wrapped you around their finger. You feel sadness bubble that the song is already ending. Luckily the next song that plays doesn't disappoint, more bass-y than the last. This one still just as popular as the day it released. 

You let yourself loosen, swaying your full body in rhythm with the bass as the song goes on. Sloane is looking at you again, and you daringly strut around them, stepping in beat with the drums. Alcohol does wonders for self esteem. They wait for you to come back around before stepping close, pulling you in by the hand. You raise an eyebrow, checking them with a grin, before gleefully walking back, shuffling your feet in tune with the music then pulling them towards you. They follow excitedly, their foot work impressive as they step towards you. They raise your held hand up as they approach and you twirl around to face them once more. Confidence runs through you at this point, letting go of the hand above you. You bring your free hand up quickly, placing it on their chest before grabbing their opposite hand. They're grinning so hard, pulling back, until your arms are taunt. Then jerking you towards them, you turn so your back hits their chest. Sloane has one hand around your front, hugging you just beneath your chest. The other holding your hip, their head resting next to yours. You both just sway now, enjoying each other's company and the music. "This okay?" They ask in your ear, the tone in their voice dropping low.

"Huh?" You say loudly, turning to face them. 

"I asked if this is okay!" They announced a little louder, and closer to your ear.

"Yeah!" You affirm happily, like this is the best day of your life. 

Do I wanna know?

If these feelings flow both ways.

Sad to see you go.

Sorta hoping that you'd stay.

Baby we both know.

That the nights were mainly made for sayin' things.

That you can't say tomorrow day.

Dancing with them like this, swaying side to side feels almost romantic. And you're having a really hard time ignoring that fact. That coupled with your already burning attraction has you dizzy. You could stay here forever. Another song passes by, and you both continue dancing with one another. At one point, you fumble through a waltz before they twirl and dip you. Despite having the time of your life, exhaustion was quickly catching up. Feeling a bit hot, and tired, holding both their hands, you turn around.

Looking up at Sloane, you truly get to admire their beauty. They've got beautiful curls, swooping and gentle. Their hair is natural, soft looking, and when you danced you could even smell their shampoo. Their eyes are a deep brown, rich like the dirt they so love digging through. You finally notice their eyebrow piercing as well, and you bite your lip. It suits them. You think. 

The longer you analyze their features, you wonder how the hell they're even real. How someone could look as perfect as them, be as charming as them. It nearly drives you mad. They smile a little, their eyes darting away. Their flushed cheeks grow a little redder at your prolonged staring. You smile a little, this is the first time you've seen them at least a little bashful. It's adorable.

The music is playing quietly now, seeing as most of the guests vacated the dance floor. Only a few stragglers are left, you included. So now you can properly talk to them.

"You know earlier... I wasn't exactly looking at the cupcakes…” You purse your lips, and squint your eyes, as if to will yourself to get the words out.

“I was staring at you." You chew your lip, looking away shyly. This confession could make or break this… whatever this is. You certainly don't wanna break it. While nervous, you had a feeling they would respond positively.

Their eyes snap back towards you, and they let themself smile, raising an eyebrow. "Ohhh, I'm that pretty, huh?" They tease.

You sigh and roll your eyes, they really are such a bastard. "Yeah yeah, whatever." You mutter, playfully pushing their shoulder. Not risking stroking their ego any further.

"No no, tell me, was it the bowtie?" They snicker, pushing their chest out a bit to really show it off. 

You shake your head, running your hands up from their own and readjusting their accessory. “Yes, it was the bowtie, all I wanted was you, bowtie.” You whisper at their chest, pulling the sides of the bow.

“Psh,” They chuckle, “Okay for real! What was it, huh?” They say, flashing their signature grin while raising their eyebrows suggestively. Perhaps telling them was a bad idea, you purse your lips again, realizing they'll bother you forever until you tell them. It seems like they're DYING to know.

You hum, dropping your head onto their chest. With one hand still on their chest, you let your other trail down their arm before grasping theirs, bringing it up towards you. Flipping it palm up, you let your free hand lightly touch their palm. "Your hands, I like them. I was looking at them." Dragging your fingers along their palm, you feel every callous and rough patch of skin. You turn them over to admire their nail polish and knuckles. You even start to massage in-between their fingers, just soaking up the fact that you can touch them like this, and they're allowing you to.

They seem to be at a loss for words, and you figure that doesn't happen too often. Smiling, you walk your fingers up their arm and to their shoulder to rest it there, bringing your other arm up to mirror it. Their hands come up to your waist and bring you close. While enjoying the embrace, you weren't expecting them to shake you and hug you in tightly. They groan into your shoulder, as if frustrated. You puff out a laugh at their weirdness. 

"Sorry- you're just so cute." They say, pulling back. "I just met you and you already got me in stitches." They admit, kicking the dirt by your feet. You figure instant attraction to a stranger is just as new to you as it is to them.

"Well..." You start, not even sure what to say. "We can… go back to my room? I'm staying at a hotel nearby. We can hang out, talk...see where it takes us?" Your voice raises at the end of your sentence, as if a little worried they'll say no. That's another lie, you were a LOT worried they'll say no, denying you any more of their time.

Your anxiety is evident as your eyes search their face for a clue, a glimmer of what they might say. Of what they could be thinking. 

Sloane looks at you with tenderness. Such sweetness you could melt. They bring a hand up to cup the side of your face, rubbing their thumb across it. "I'd like that." They say, their voice seems to tighten as if they're both excited and nervous about the proposition.

Yeah, usually parties suck. But this one? This one was amazing.

[archangeldyke-all]

Omg I loved the cellmate reader! But imagine if reader broke Sevika outta jail. Like she’s all cool about and when she walks up to Sevikas cell she’s got her hair up in her hat and sevika can’t see who she is until she tilts her head up grinning at her wife.

Sevika is so shocked to see her housewife breaking her outta jail like. The whole way back to Zain Sevika can’t keep her hands to herself, thanking her wife over and over and saying how much she’s gonna reward her for saving her *wink wink*

LOVE

men and minors dni

"this just feels wrong." you mutter as you check yourself out in the mirror. ran chuckles beside you, tugging their skirt farther down their waist.

"fuckin' tell me about it." they grumble.

they look ridiculous. their bangs are pinned back, their eyes have been washed clean of eyeliner-- they really do look like a cop. "the things i do for her." you grumble. ran giggles again.

"wasn't this in your vows? 'for better or worse, in sickness and health, i vow to love you and break you outta prison if you need?'" they tease. you giggle.

"close enough."

you're both dressed as enforcers-- the uniforms are authentic-- stolen from some dead cops.

four years after you first landed yourself in stillwater-- you're going back. this time, you aren't a prisioner, though. and, despite your current outfit, you haven't gotten a new job as a prison guard.

you're going back for sevika.

she took the charges for silco when he got caught up in piltover, and as a result, she's currently in maximum security.

it's been four months since you've seen your wife. and despite the fact that you keep your nose strictly out of silco and sevika's business-- these past four months you've been at the last drop every single night, studying stillwater blue prints and plotting with ran and silco and lock.

it all passes in a blur for you. you're so nervous, and so excited to see your girl, that you don't register much as you make your way to stillwater.

ran does most of the talking. there's not much talking to be done-- the uniforms and badges you're wearing get you in the gates surprisingly easily-- but you're too jittery to do much more than stutter. so ran does most the talking.

you keep your hand on the switchblade tucked into the waist of your enforcer skirt. sevika gifted it to you on your first real date, and she's been teaching you how to defend yourself with it ever since. you've never had to use it, mostly because everyone in the undercity knows you're sevika's, but you won't hesitate to use it now to get to her.

the familiar atmosphere of the prison is comforting, in a strange way. it's where you met sevika, where you got to know her, where you both fell for one another.

and now it's where you're going to reunite again.

the deeper underground you get, the fewer prisoners and the more guards there are. you're starting to get antsy. ran elbows you.

"relax." they grumble. you gulp.

"don't tell me to relax, it' been four fucking months since--"

"oh my god, i know." ran groans. you sigh.

"sorry. i miss her." you mumble. ran chuckles.

"not as much as she misses you." they say. you huff a bit.

despite the rough start to you and ran's friendship-- with you stabbing them the last time they were breaking sevika out of prison-- they've become a good friend of yours. especially since they're the one who's always helping you get sevika out of trouble.

they're also the one who agreed to let you come along tonight. it was meant to be ran and lock, with you as the getaway driver, but you begged to go in. you want to see her as soon as you fucking can.

and then: ran pulls you to a stop.

"prisoner." they mumble, a smile in their voice as they tap their metal fingers against the bars of a cell. your stomach bursts into butterflies when you see the signature flicker of sevika's lighter in the dark cell. you can see her smirk in the brief light, and you nearly burst into tears.

the ring of keys on ran's hip jingles as they pull them off and unlock sevika's cell. you don't hesitate to slam the door open and start sprinting into the cell.

it's the wrong move. sevika's expecting ran and lock, not ran and you: and in the dark, she assumes you're lunging at her to attack her. "wait!" ran calls after you, too late.

a crack rings out in the cell, followed by a groan: sevika socked you right in the nose. "ffffffuck, babe!" you whine, grabbing your nose.

sevika gasps in the dark. then, strong arms are hugging you and you're being pushed out into the hallway-- into the light.

"what the fuck are you doing here?!" sevika cries.

"i--" she doesn't let you answer, shoving her mouth against yours as she backs you up against the concrete wall oppisite her cell.

you moan into her mouth, your nose throbbing in pain, your cunt throbbing in arousal.

her hands trail down to your ass, then sneak up your skirt to start palming your cunt. you whimper, and she growls.

ran clears their throat.

you pull your mouth away from sevika with a gasp, but she doesn't seem to have heard ran-- her mouth ducking down to start sucking hickeys on your neck. she starts grinding the palm of her hand against your wet cunt, and you gasp-- pulling her hair hard. sevika mewls.

"janna, i shoulda brought a spray bottle." ran mumbles.

"s-sev, baby, we gotta go." you whisper, your voice shaking when she sinks her teeth into your neck. she licks the indents her teeth left behind, then stands to her full height, removes her hands from your skirt.

you cuff her wrists, then hook your arm around her elbow, guiding her down the hall as ran leads the two of you.

you've got five minutes before the real guards do their rounds and stillwater goes on lockdown when they realize sevika's missing.

ran's the only one who seems to care about this time crunch. sevika keeps shoving you against walls, grabbing your tits biting your lips, fighting against her handcuffs as she tries to grip your hips.

you let her, each and every time.

a guard stops the three of you. "fuck happened to you?" he asks you, looking you over.

your skirt's rumpled, your shirt's untucked and unbuttoned, and your enforcer hat's been knocked off and lost. all sevika's doing.

you cringe, suddenly nervous. ran just scoffs as the cut in to cover for you.

"the prisoner here got the jump on this rookie." ran explains. "broke the poor kid's nose." they gesture to your bleeding nose. you nod.

"fuckin' asshole." you mumble, trying to hold your smile back as you nudge sevika like you're angry.

she stumbles and giggles. it comes off as a defiant laugh in the face of authority to the guard. to you, you know she's fucking giddy.

he waves the three of you along.

the second you're in the van with sevika, she's on you.

lock starts the car and starts driving off, ran in the passenger seat laughing in glee at once again flawlessly slipping through stillwater's 'impenetrable' security system, and sevika throws herself at you in the back before you can even unlock her cuffs.

"sev!" you laugh. she's practically dry humping you, kissing any part of you she can reach. she hums.

"fuck-- you're the hottest enforcer i've ever seen." she mumbles. "i'm so fuckin' sorry about your nose, baby--" you cut her off by pressing your mouth against hers again.

"no fucking in the van." lock says.

you flip him off, before fumbling for the key to sevika's handcuffs.

the second one of her hands is free, she doesn't bother letting you free the other. she just lets the cuffs dangle off her mech wrist like a tacky bracelet, as she wraps her arms around you pulling you impossibly closer to her.

"i missed you so fucking much." you whimper, on the verge of tears.

sevika smells like shit. she probably hasn't showered in a week. in solitary, you don't even get a mattress-- just two blankets to lay on the ground. she's sore and grimy and she's been sitting in a dark room for weeks on end-- you planned for your first time together again to be after soaking her in a long, fragrant bath, given her at least an hour long massage, and gotten her in your freshly made bed.

it seems like that might have to be your second time.

sevika's between your legs-- both of which are hooked over her waist-- your skirt is around your waist and your hands are tugging her pants down as she grinds pathetic circles against your cunt.

"oh, fuck, i missed you too." she whines. "i love you so fuckin' much, i'm gonna put a fuckin baby in you, i missed your cunt so mu--"

"woah!" ran cries. "please! we're two minutes away from the last dro--"

"take me home." sevika growls.

ran scoffs-- "sevika, silco wants to see--"

"i'll see 'im tomorrow. or he can come over in a few hours. take me the fuck home." she demands. you giggle, using her distraction to uncuff her other wrist.

she smiles down at you when lock starts the van in the direction of your shared home.

the two of you stumble out in front of your home a minute later, lock screaming something about silco coming over in a bit behind the two of you.

neither of you notice.

you stumble into your home, attached at the lips. sevika's hands are flying up and down your body, groping your ass, thighs, hips, tits, all in quick succession. she growls as you guide her to the bedroom. "been thinkin' about you every fuckin' second since they locked me up." she mumbles. you whimper. "prison's no fun without you there."

you chuckle against her lips, stripping her of her prison uniform. you're gonna burn the clothes the second you're done with her.

you push her down-- she spreads out starfished and naked on the bed, groaning as she relaxes against the mattress.

"fuck." she moans.

you smile down at her, straddling her waist and stroking her cheek. she nuzzles against your palm.

"i missed you so much." you whisper. "i love you so much. you're the most precious thing in the world, baby."

sevika whimpers, and then, before you know what's happening, she's flipping you and pinning you beneath her.

she starts grinding against you again, but this time, both of you are naked. you groan as your cunts slide together and sevika whimpers, burying her face in your neck as she cries and fucks you.

you don't mention the tears soaking your neck. you just wrap yourself around your wife, pressing kisses anywhere you can reach as she fucks you.

"you're okay baby." you whisper, scratching against her scalp. "you're okay. 'm right here, 'm not goin' anywhere. i'll always come 'n find you sev, y' can't get rid of me that easy." you promise her.

she whimpers. "'m gonna cum."

you shiver at her words-- fuck you've missed her.

"fuck, fuck, please, sev, please, i've missed you, i've missed you, honey." you whisper. "i wanna make you feel good-- wanna make you cum-- you waited so fuckin' long all alone and--"

"but you're here now." she whispers. you moan, cumming at the reminder, and the sight of it pushes her over the edge. "baby fuck!" she cries, burying her face against your neck as she cums.

you're both shaking and crying, panting for air, soaked in sweat and cum, and laughing.

"shit." sevika sighs, nuzzling against you. you hum. "think i jerked off, like, a billion times imagining that." she mumbles. you burst into laughter. "nowhere near as good as the real fuckin' thing though." she sighs.

you kiss the goofy smile off her face. "wish i coulda snuck you some nudies or somethin'." you mumble. she snorts.

"nearly came in my pants when i realized it was you showin' off your legs in that slutty uniform."

"after you nearly shit in your pants when you realized it was me you just punched?" you ask. sevika giggles, gently kissing your swollen nose.

"simultaneously, actually. weirdest sensation of my life." she jokes. you burst into laughter.

"i love you!" you giggle. she smiles.

"i love you too."

"if you get off of me i'll draw you a bath." you offer.

"do i smell that bad?"

"yes."

she bites your shoulder and you squeak. "will you join me?"

"yes." you say.

you can feel her smile against your shoulder.

"i'm gonna marry you all over again." she mumbles.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @vikasub

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

don't hold hands, m | myg

pairing(s): yoongi x reader

summary: You're fucking your ex-boyfriend's ex-best friend. You also now own a condo with him and owning this condo has made you house-poor. Yeah, it's not the usual love story and it's not going to be one. Not until you paint the walls black, that is.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; mostly conversations and feels tbh; minor smut (fem reader, marking / scratching, m-receiving oral, doggy, penetrative sex); non-idol!AU; guitarist!music producer!Yoongi x novelist!reader - fwb / roommates-to-lovers

just a story about two people who shouldn't fall in love falling in love, I have plenty of nasty smut so this is a different beat for ya lmao

--

“Is it fun being tortured?”

“Not really, no.”

It wasn’t fair to be this critical but, as long as you didn’t let these words travel outside this room, it was fine, right? At least, you kept telling yourself that. Delusion at its finest.

“It’s so stupid that people enjoy sticking their nose in drama that doesn’t involve them only because their lives are too boring to have any,” you sighed, tossing your phone across your desk, letting it skid into a pile of post-its covered in scrawled notes. “All because I deleted some photos.”

Notifications were now blocked.

“Some people mistake privilege with right.”

You glared at your phone even though the contents were the offender and not the device. Rolled your eyes, knowing you would be coming back to a shitstorm, but you couldn’t take it anymore. There had to be a limit. And the voice beside you had been telling you to put the damn thing down and stop deleting comments one by one, but the stubborn ram in you thought you could just headbutt through the bullshit.

And that imagery was gonna end there, thank you very much.

Your forehead found the palm of your hand and you sighed again, suddenly feeling the weight.

“I’m never doing that again.”

“You don’t have to.”

Minutes passed.

Silence never felt so serene.

Then it was cut through by steady, slow acoustic guitar, the notes drifting out from behind you. It almost made you feel more guilty. Almost. How fucked was that? You, sitting here right now, staring at nearly bare walls and a table covered in notes and your trusty laptop, almost feeling guilty for the guy that had backed out of the joint loan for this condo in the city that you didn’t even fuckin’ want, but you had been too far into the process to not lose a whole lotta money and too angry to let yourself lose.

How ironic, feeling guilty for the guy who cheated on you.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not,” was the guitar player’s response. “And you shouldn’t be either. For anything.”

You knew you shouldn’t apologize. It just felt like the thing to do, because you hadn’t been wholly right either and, even if you weren’t more in the wrong, you were still wrong, and wasn’t that fucked, putting levels of blame on a situation that, at the end of the day, was all said and done and left everybody bitter and full of scars.

The shitty part was everyone was on your case now and blaming you.

This was what you got for dating the lead singer of a punk band that skyrocketed to popularity on social media. Looked all elegant dark romance on TikTok and Instagram, just screaming and hate-fucking behind closed doors. Constant content to cover up the toxicity. And maybe it was your fault too, letting it get to your head that maybe you really were the beautiful, mysterious muse that the followers painted you out to be. You glossed over red flags – late nights, drugs and drinking, sleeping in rooms of girls that called themselves fans – all part of the industry. Nothing happened. Honest. But the greatest mistake was letting him tag you on Instagram. How cool was it that you were an author?

This bastard.

Not only had you given him some of your best quotes for his lyrics, but now you couldn’t publish those words as your own because this bastard would fuckin’ sue you for plagiarizing.

The guitar continued behind you, on the mattress on the floor.

So, not only were you getting crucified on social media at the moment because he had called you a backhanded bitch in his Instagram stories but also because you had deleted all photos of him on your profile and said fucking nothing. Silence to be polite and all that. He cheated on you, he was leaving you for some whore you had plenty of suspicions about, and, worst of all, he waited until you and him were finalizing the down payment for this expensive-ass-fuck high-rise condo – that money was out of your own pocket, not his, how convenient – and backed out of the loan for the mortgage. His reasoning?

You cheated on him first.

Hello?

With his former guitarist.

Hello?

Your ex-boyfriend had fired his former guitarist ages ago because you and him had gotten too friendly.

Alright, man.

You liked the guy, sure. Talked to him when he was in the studio and found you had a lot in common. Plus, he was crazy talented. Made most of the melodies, self-produced a lot of the songs for the band so they could save money, even contributed to lyric writing so they didn’t have to spend on that either. He even had a good voice, although sadly the band rarely used it. Your art of words paired with his knowledge of music made some viral hits. But then tensions rose between him and your ex when they started butting heads for no reason (there was a reason and it was ugly jealousy). Then arguments rose between you and your ex, but instead of breaking up, you buried yourself into writing your next novel to let the situation cool off.

Sigh, okay, call a spade a spade.

You were avoiding the confrontation.

He fired his guitarist and got a new one.

Then things were good.

Until they weren’t.

Of course, they weren’t. You didn’t solve shit, and he was fucking every girl that threw themselves at him behind your back. Good thing you had strict rules about condoms, otherwise you would probably have some lasting consequences right now. So, when the ground cracked and split apart from under you, what did you do?

Yup, this was the part that made you no better.

You found that former guitarist and fucked him.

Word travelled around. Word also travelled around that somehow you got someone to be part of that insane loan you got talked into. And, oh, shit, did things get messy once a certain someone knew who it was.

But here you were.

Feeling guilty.

You probably couldn’t publish for at least six months to a year because, harrowingly, your demographic was young adult – you had even relied on social media for self-marketing, fuck – and the half of a novel you had now had to be scrapped considering that so many of the quotes were now distressed in dark venues by the lips of an egomaniacal dick that you allowed into your pussy far too many times. Once was already too many.

Fuck.

You didn’t even want to live in the city.

It’ll be so much easier for me to get bigger opportunities. Don’t be a selfish bitch and only think about yourself.

You wanted to scream.

You wanted to throw your laptop into the wall and break it into smithereens, but you didn’t because this piece of technology was currently your only chance of making money. Fuck. Me. Always talking about himself like he was only important member of the band, even though it was the other guys who wrote most of the music and lyrics. No one sided with you, obviously. This was their job and technically not their romance. They were sympathetic but not empathetic to the point of jeopardizing their jobs. Obviously, you hadn’t signed any contracts for royalties or credit. This was supposed to be your soulmate.

Soulmates weren’t so generous to give you pennies.

You’re being greedy and self-important. Oh, so you’re only in the relationship for the money? I’ll give you money once we make it big. Once we get it all, I’ll buy you everything you want. But you gotta help me out now. We’re starving artists, ya know?

You should have asked your parents for monetary help, but you didn’t. Your pride didn’t want to hear the told-you-so speeches for dating a guy they didn’t choose for you. You also didn’t want the arranged marriage appointments back in your life either.

So.

Trapped in white walls, post-its of false starts, and impending doom.

Dramatic, but you were a writer.

“Come here and sit down with me.”

Some part of you didn’t want to face him. It was really dumb. He was your new roommate now. You were fucking him when you were too sad to avoid it, and it was pretty obvious he knew. You were living off his money. Sure, he only paid for half the rent but then food mysteriously appeared in the fridge, bathroom necessities were stocked when they were running low, cleaning supplies neatly sorted into the closet, and all that other shit. None of that wholesale stuff either, but the nicer things normal households could afford.

It wasn’t an exaggeration that you cried into the soap during your shower last night.

All because you finally acknowledged it wasn’t one of those shitty bars that made skin feel like plastic but actually fragrant lathering liquid that you could put on the dense, not-falling-apart-in-one-use loofah that you hadn’t bought. You would have been satisfied with cutting coupons and living on the dregs of the bare minimum, but someone cared enough to not let you do that, and you currently couldn’t do anything to contribute and probably couldn’t for a while.

And that made you feel undeserving.

Maybe you were only fucking him because that was all you could offer.

Pathetic.

The guitarist called your name softly.

Like a beaten dog, you got up and sat down beside Min Yoongi.

He continued to play a melody you didn’t know on his black acoustic guitar. He hadn’t moved in all his instruments and equipment yet. You had told him he could have the whole living room for his studio. He had asked if you were sure and you responded that you were sure that you weren’t going to have anybody over ever so, unless he wanted a living room space, you didn’t want one.

“Shit always happens, you know,” the deep voice reminded you.

“This happening was of my own doing and now I’ve ruined my own life,” you muttered, bitter over a boy and hating that you were bitter over a boy.

A small chuckle. “You have to admit you had help.”

Stupid boy.

“Can’t be helped. Humans are animals of regret.”

It stung to regret.

The guitar playing stopped and now you were met with silence.

Don’t cry.

But it was so tiring to be angry. So easy to be sad. So easy to think, my fault, for being swept up in what he was but not who he was, for believing that you knew what was best when clearly it wasn’t, for being spiteful on purpose. For avoiding looking at Yoongi in the face because you were too ashamed to acknowledge what was going on here.

For being too afraid to ask what he thought of it.

“I regretted not stealing you from him sooner. Thought you were too fuckable for that loser from the first day we met.”

A strange feeling.

Skin prickling, glancing the that pale hand of graceful, callused fingers simply resting on the neck of that guitar, not looking at Yoongi’s face even though you knew it quite well in profile.

“That’s one way to make me feel better,” you replied.

“I’m not trying to make you feel better. Just being honest,” he replied, tapping his fingertips on the wood. “You are ten times too talented and a hundred times too pretty for a guy like that.”

You twitched. “Are you shitting on my standards?”

“Back then? Yeah, I am.” A calm hum, setting aside his guitar and placing his elbows on his sweatpants-covered knees, charcoal gray and worn. “Pretty clear you went full desperado for a guy that didn’t deserve it. Also, he ain’t hot shit like he thinks he is.”

Ow and what the fuck. “Fuck off.”

You felt movement and tracked his hand raising, spinning a finger around his temple. A brief glance and the details sank in. Long, windswept black waves, light cream skin, pointed gaze directed forward and not at you, pensive slight frown of pink lips. You looked away again, past his loose white t-shirt and to your hands.

You used to be proud of them.

They used to be able to type prose like no other.

Now they were twisted in an oversized, olive-green sweatshirt that you picked up from the sale bin of the convenience store for dirt cheap and they didn’t write jack shit.

You also hated olive-green.

Nothing personal. It just wasn’t your color.

“You’re a psycho bitch to put up with him,” Yoongi commented.

He wasn’t wrong. “I’m a psycho bitch all the time.”

“Yeah, and I don’t date crazy.”

You thought you would feel insulted, but you were past the point of caring. Also, there was something about the way his calm voice said it. Like he knew what he was doing. Huh. That was a silly thing to think. Of course, Yoongi knew what he was doing. He did it. He let you in his studio when you tracked it down and camped out until he showed up. He had listened to your psychobabble and didn’t back away when you pinned him to the wall.

This wasn’t dating.

“At least, I thought I didn’t,” Yoongi added, not touching you.

He fucked you too. He wasn’t a starfish in bed, that was for sure.

“I wanted to get back at him too, you know,” that deep, hazy voice murmured beside you. “That bastard turned my friends against me, stole my mixes, and cut out all my connections. Made me start from the ground up, alone.”

Yeah, you did know that. You helped badmouth Yoongi. In the name of love.

Shit.

“Sorry.”

“You’re not sorry.”

Ouch.

“And you shouldn’t be, ‘cause what’s done is done and being sorry isn’t going to change anything.”

You untwisted your hands from each other, realizing your knuckles were white from anxiousness, and relaxed them on your bare knees. Best you could, anyway.

“Yeah,” was the best response you had. This fucking boy ruined your life and stole your eloquence too, apparently. Motherfucker. “You’re right.”

Neither you or Yoongi said anything.

Minutes passed.

Another night in the condo and both of you were sitting on a mattress with a single blanket, deflated pillows, and a box of condoms on the floor.

You touched his forearm the same time his hand moved to grip your thigh.

And then it was the don’t-look-him-in-the-eyes challenge, and he was doing the exact same thing, eyes averted, black hair over them, lips grazing your jaw. Breath against your ear. Hot. His neck under your lips, flexed, fair skin with remnants of bruises, and your teeth sank in, making new ones, listening to his hiss and feeling his hands slide under your sweatshirt. Weighted palms and blunt nails. Digging in.

“Harder.”

He scratched you up as you climbed into his lap, tasting flesh.

Those firm hands gripped your hips and forced them down. Grinding. Softness to growing hardness, unhooking your bra, hands all over like you had lost your mind, your thighs squeezing his sides, yanking his shirt collar down and licking up his collarbone, dripping spit, shivering as you saw it glisten over his marred skin.

Clothes coming off, thrown aside. Guitar sliding to the hardwood floor as bodies tumbled. Your hands on his chest, your hard nipples pressed into the sheets as Yoongi slipped his hand into your hair and shoved your head down. Mouth open, tongue curling around. Moan striking the air, echoing in the nothingness.

Hard, hot, now wet.

Up, down, hitting the back of your throat, unable to choke in the adrenaline of lust, in need, in desire for pain, rubbing your tongue all over as Yoongi face-fucked you hard and fast, thick cock swelling in your mouth, your lips grazing the swollen head and making him shudder, saliva slipping down your chin that was smacking into his balls.

Was it shameful that you were good at it?

Sex solved nothing but you sure had a lot of it as if it did.

A sharp gasp and salty cum filled your throat, drinking, swallowing with effort and the burning sensation of your locked jaw, maintaining the soft tightness. Tongue tracing the contours, keeping him hard, hearing the rip of a foil packet above your head.

You hadn’t even realized that Yoongi had let go of your hair, letting you lick him all over at your own pace.

“What position?” Yoongi panted, husky and breathless in the mostly empty bedroom.

Mattress, chair, desk, laptop. Oh, and guitar.

Bodies on the floor.

You didn’t say anything.

You just turned around and slid down, elbows on the bed, knees spread, ass up.

“Alright then.”

You bit your lower lip.

You almost turned your head, almost looked back, just to check, right, just to check he was okay with it, and then strong hands gripped your hips, lifting them, sliding in, condom on and stretching you out right away, his knees pushing your knees apart and forcing you to arch your back for the angle.

No chance to look back.

You gasped, gripping the sheets, blinded by pleasure and the fading resonance of pain.

Hard.

Deep.

You pushing back, deep not deep enough, hitting your preferred depth and letting your eyelids flutter, veins burning with the repeated ecstasy. One of your hands lifted and reached back, squeezing his hand on your hip, and the grip became tighter, fingertips digging in, smacking his hips into your ass, and your body threatened to throw him back, carnal power meeting his every thrust, clenching around his hard length, and you could hear Yoongi growl your name, low and deep and voracious.

Somehow, his name fell from your lips too.

Rough and sinful, no better than an animal.

His nails dug into your back and dragged down, burning lines into your skin.

Your head tipped back and you moaned, a clear, shameless sound that would become familiar to this ceiling. Pooling wildfire, tightening muscles, wasted nectar sticky between joined thighs, surge after shivering surge of orgasmic apex stinging your veins as you barely registered Yoongi’s shudder and blissful groan, feeling the pulse inside you made than hearing the sound.

The rush of blood roaring in your ears was far too loud for you to hear anything.

Your face felt hot, so hot.

Gripping the sheets, twisting them, pulling them off the edge of the bed.

This moment.

Very few things were as intense and exigent as an orgasm. Fleeting, but a violently memorable. Pure nothingness of soaring high. You chased it. Again. And again. And again, your fingers tangled in Yoongi’s dark hair, pulling it over his face but he didn’t look at you anyway, eyes closed and teeth trapping his lower lip, breath trapped in his chest, driving his hips into yours again and again.

You both kept going until the limits were reached.

The darkness willingly swallowed you up.

-

Min Yoongi always considered himself a rational person, which was precisely why he found himself entangled in the break-up between his former best friend and the only woman he ever considered committing a felony for.

Yeah.

He also didn’t believe in love at first sight.

She was still way too hot for that idiot though.

His eyes could communicate well enough with his dick. The short skirt and exposed thighs didn’t really help either. Still, Yoongi had let it be. Respect was keeping his distance despite racing heartbeat and keeping calm despite shaking hands. He got used to it once the late-night talks about music and wordplay became a regular thing. Sometimes they talked about general life and were surprised on how well they aligned. Still, she never spoke poorly about her then-boyfriend even though there was plenty to talk about.

Scorched earth was their sacred ground.

It was painful to witness.

Yoongi regretted valuing the friendship, mostly because it didn’t mean jack shit at the end of the day. He regretted believing in the elegant, age-old saying.

Bros before hoes.

Tch.

But mostly, Yoongi regretted pretending like nothing was wrong.

He would see the pain in her expression and not say anything. Watch her pack it all away and greet him with warmth that he didn’t deserve because he had a racing heart and shaking hands every time they met. He would watch his former best friend disappear into hotel rooms without explanation and Yoongi knew damn well it wasn’t right, but he kept his mouth shut because he was a coward, something he figured out later.

He could have washed his hands clean of that shitshow, but instead his hands had held her shaking shoulders and watched her struggle not to cry on that cold night.

Yoongi considered himself a rational person, but never a good one.

Too many ways to judge, and her lips had already connected with his as soon as his shoulder blades hit the wall. He didn’t stop it. Maybe it was bitterness. Vengeance. Hate.

No, it wasn’t any of that, actually.

He didn’t know exactly what but, in that moment, Yoongi knew that he would murder that asshole if he saw his former best friend’s face right then, ready to commit a felony all because those beautiful eyes couldn’t look at him, closing instead to blink back the tears that bastard didn’t deserve.

That meant something, all right.

He knew it could take a long time. He knew it would almost certainly be hopeless. He knew he would probably end up with a broken heart and broke as hell. He knew it was a bad idea and he knew it was going to tear him up, this spiral, but when he found himself looking up to the ceilings of these mostly empty rooms, this condo he now half-owed with the woman that was formerly his best friend’s girlfriend, and Yoongi found he didn’t know and he didn’t care what the future held.

She had trouble sleeping.

Less trouble after exhausting themselves.

He had trouble sleeping too, but that was because he was staring at the ceiling and wondering just how rational he really was. One hand behind his head, under the pillow. The other resting on the blanket, on the curve of her hip, feeling the steady hum of her breathing.

She never cried in front of him.

He knew she did cry, because he heard her in the bathroom sometimes. But never in front of him. Showed anger, yes, but never acted helpless even though it was perfectly reasonable to feel that way after everything that happened. Living on the least for his sake, even to the point of skipping meals and spending all her time trying to write, trying to get back to her livelihood, trying to get past all the false starts. Personally, Yoongi felt that she should give up for now and heal herself, but he also knew how it felt to feel stubborn and useless.

Hah.

It was weird, being so close and yet so far away.

He felt it most in the nighttime, even though that was when he was closest to her.

He was never going to be the same. He knew that. He already wasn’t, surprising himself with his own recklessness, and for what? He didn’t even know what she was capable of reciprocating after receiving all those scars. Didn’t even know if he was the right one, if he was better or worse, if…

If he was believing in something that wasn’t there.

Yoongi closed his eyes and went to sleep.

-

Livid.

It was weird. Feeling it. In the past, you buried it, numb, and promptly lived in delusion. But now you could feel it. What was more, you let yourself feel it. There wasn’t anything to stop you except for the occasional mental peanut gallery of you’re a bad person if you feel jealousy, but anger could overtake anything if you let it.

You stared at the scene before you, several meters away.

Seething.

It felt good.

Mostly because it was honest.

It surprised you. You hadn’t expected to feel anything. Sad, maybe. You had already been cheated on, so naturally you assumed the cycle would begin anew, just with less promises and in the gray area of uncertainty. But, no, instead of being distraught and delusional, you felt maddeningly, viciously, nearly on-the-edge of making a fist and dislocating Min Yoongi’s jaw from his skull because he was speaking to a female-presenting human at the entrance of the building that housed his and others’ music studios.

Did you lack context? Yes.

Would that get you arrested? Yeah, probably.

Would that probably not get your laid anymore and label you as an unhinged psychopath? Without a doubt.

But would it feel good?

Don’t know.

You had never punched someone before, although maybe you should have practiced on your ex-boyfriend. He was probably a more deserving candidate. In any case, you remained frozen in perplexation at your willingness for violence because you were pretty sure your… relations… with Yoongi were nothing more than a lonely bitch and a spiteful silver tongue executing revenge, so the amount of fucks you should give about Yoongi speaking to any human being – other than the obvious health and safety precautions – should be zero.

None.

Basket of fucks empty.

And yet.

Clearly wasn’t since you were mentally calculating the angle and force for jaw dislocation while having zero experience in doing so. In any sort of non-virtual manner, that is.

Hm.

Your hands were firmly in the pockets of your black cargo pants. The hip ones, although you had plenty of choice. You kept them there for the safety of passerby or, maybe deep down, yourself. This caused your jacket to fall open, the outlines of the sew-on patches and thick, bunched-up black denim crowding the space between your forearm and waist, your black cropped tank exposed to the chill evening air. You used to wear a plethora of band t-shirts, but, well, those were probably in a landfill or rotting in a secondhand shop.

You figured you would be cold. Unsurprisingly, the anger kept you warm.

Huh.

You thought about turning around and just straight up leaving, petty and picturesque of course, and then Yoongi seemed to sense your projected violence, looking up from the conversation. Dark waves over his cheeks, striking body line, backing away, hiding his eyes for a moment, not that you could see them that well from this distance. You twitched.

The girl reached out.

Yoongi simply bowed, out of reach, and pushed the glass door open.

Honestly, her role in this moment was so miniscule that you completely ignored whatever she did or possibly could have said to Yoongi’s retreating back. Sharpened gaze, and then he crossed the street with the crowd, walking past oblivious bystanders who may or may not become the harrowed audience of the next thirty seconds.

He stopped before you. Bomber jacket, white shirt, black track pants. Monochrome elegance.

You looked up at him, saying nothing.

Over one shoulder was his usual guitar bag that held said instrument and his yellow notepad sticking out of the pocket. He used it to jot down whatever came to him. You almost said something. Almost. Then you remembered that if this, this between you and Min Yoongi, if this was supposed to be nothing, then weren’t you supposed to do nothing but voice your casual annoyance for making you wait rather than, well.

Admit insecurity?

You looked away quickly.

No, it did not matter how reasonable it was, you didn’t like knowing that somehow you had been weakened by an ex-boyfriend, barely a man, no, a mere locust at best, so it was better to not say anything and accept that this was–

“Sorry, I got caught up with the staff about ending my lease.”

Compromised.

You didn’t look at him. “What?”

“Gonna end my lease this month and move my studio stuff to the condo. I can’t afford both.”

He had told you this already. It had been your idea. You already knew you were overreacting to a situation that you created in your head rather than reality. And, yet, the best your mind would allow was uh huh, a plausible explanation, sarcasm included.

“Ah. Right,” was your sharp, mildly frigid reply.

“I can’t read your mind.”

Do you intend to be exhausting?

Your mental peanut gallery was super annoying.

You breathed in. Cool, crisp air. The sound of cars and people bustling in and out of stores. You breathed in again. Did you really intend to be exhausting, irrational, and, worst of all, dishonest? Really, after all that had happened? After getting here, standing here, arriving to pick up Yoongi at his request to do the grocery shopping together?

You turned back to look right into black-brown, piercing orbs.

“I just realized that I have the ability to be jealous,” you exhaled, draining your lungs. “It’s unpleasant and not nearly as delightfully pivotal as the media makes it out to be.”

Something fluttered in those orbs.

Or maybe it was the wind catching his bangs, drifting black strands over his eyes shadowed by dark circles.

Yoongi half-smiled.

“Makes for good songwriting material though.”

There was an air of helplessness to his words. A tone you couldn’t define, except for the understanding, which left you both baffled and with a sense of guilt. There were emotions in that barely-there smirk on those familiar lips. Relief. Maybe a slight bit of shame. A shadow of guilt too. You realized people were glancing at you and him as they walked past, wondering why you both were at a standstill on the sidewalk. Yoongi seemed to not notice them or care.

You pulled your hands out of your pockets.

“Come on. We should go before it gets dark.”

Before you noticed it, your hand was rising.

You pulled it back, but not fast enough.

Yoongi’s free hand reached out and grasped around yours, strong fingers enclosing. Sliding up, calluses on your palm. Your hand lowered, slowly, your eyes moving in the opposite direction. Lips parting. His hand was colder than yours.

You stared at Yoongi.

He looked back, expression unreadable.

“I don’t hold hands,” you said, suddenly breathless.

You tightened your grip.

“Neither do I,” Yoongi replied, taking a step, on the cusp of walking past you, his hand around yours. “I simply just don’t like the idea of yours getting cold when I can do something about it.”

Previously, when you held hands, it was always with a purpose of showing public affection. The look-how-real-this-is-because-there-are-clear-witnesses show. Front row tickets nobody asked for. But this.

This.

You blinked hard and the sting was inside.

The sting of wasted time.

Your name in that raspy, soft voice. Familiar. You looked up, not saying anything and hoping the eye contact was enough. All Yoongi did was smile lightly and tug your hand.

“Let’s get take-out and shop tomorrow. We have plenty of time to eat healthier.”

-

“You can cry in front of me.”

Min Yoongi heard her breath hitch and still.

Seconds that felt like hours ticked by. It was the dead of night. Or maybe one could call it the time when honesty came to life, if the conditions were right. He knew this time well usually with a drink in his hand, but this time he was laying on his side with bruises of bites and carnal memories lingering on his fingertips.

“I wasn’t crying.”

Her voice was thick and strained from trying to keep it even. Her moment of jealousy had happened days ago. He had recognized it right away. Call it personal experience. He also recognized that she didn’t like to feel that way. It was obvious from her torn yet furious expression. It confirmed a lot of things for him. Still, she seemed pleased to help him move and set up his things in the bedroom. They found the living room to be a bit too echoey due to the large space so they switched the two, pulling the mattress to the living room and setting up his equipment in the center of what was formerly the bedroom.

He told her to paint the condo.

She had mentioned in passing that someday she would like to paint her entire living space black. Not this place, because he owned it too, and you probably think I’m crazy for wanting a dark space, huh, Yoongi? He asked her, why wait? No one lives forever. We’re just passing through.

She had given him a weird look.

We own this condo. Paint it.

There were cans of black paint waiting.

Yoongi had intended to go visit his family over the weekend. His parents and his brother who had recently been promoted to head chef at the classy restaurant he worked at. Someone in the family needed to have prestige. Well, that was his own personal feeling. Surprisingly at this point his parents had even up on telling him to get a higher-paying job. They told him to simply be happy.

And get married.

Yeah, about that.

He was still trying to get used to the music producer thing, for fuck’s sake.

“Are you afraid I won’t understand?” Yoongi let himself say, not turning around yet.

Sometimes, people didn’t want you to see them weak. He could understand that.

Call it personal experience.

A shuddering sigh. Deep breaths. Words bogged down, drained.

“I can only be so pathetic before I lose my mind recalling the past,” she mumbled. He felt her weight deepen on her side of the bed, as if she was trying to melt into the mattress. “I made things hard for myself. For you. It’s pointless to cry about it anyway. In the end, it only makes me look ungrateful.”

Yoongi thought about it.

“It’s true that you probably shouldn’t have involved me.”

He shifted, laying on his back now.

“But I’m not a good person either. I agreed, after all,” he murmured, his skin tingling with bruises and carnal memories. “Hm, to be honest, he was always a dick though, from high school till now. Always will be, I fear.”

“You’re easygoing enough not to be affected by his asshole behavior.”

“Not my job to change people. I leave that to parents and clueless fools.”

A pensive silence. Surprisingly not an irritated one. She seemed to accept it.

“Why did you become his friend?” she asked, staring at the ceiling with him.

“We just happened to like the same thing. Music.”

“I’m lucky you decided to become his friend.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment. Then, “I’m lucky that somehow he managed to bamboozle a hot and clever girl, two things he’s obviously not.”

She almost laughed. Almost.

“Who the fuck uses the word bamboozle?”

“You had to admit you were bamboozled, because you sure as hell weren’t dick-drunk.”

“Oh? You think you’re that good, huh?”

“No, I just know he’s that much worse.”

The faintest of chuckles.

“You… You get better every time,” she admitted. “I think I just caught you off guard the first time.”

“Firstly, I don’t like wasting time and, secondly, I had given up for a while before…” I met you. “Romance seemed like an expensive, worthless distraction when I could be using that time and money trying to push the band forward,” he pivoted, running a hand through his hair to push it out of his eyes. “Then that went to shit.”

“Sorry.”

Automatic.

He chuckled darkly. “I’m confident I got the better deal.”

A trembling pause.

“Why do you think that?”

He reached over and placed his palm on the top of her head, lacing his fingers in her hair. Messing it up.

“Tell me the truth. Was he good at sex?”

A burst of laughter. “Really? Alright. No, he wasn’t. He sucked. Thought he was a piston of a muscle car instead of a human being. Oh, and once he fell asleep on top of me.”

He cocked an eyebrow. Turned his head and forced hers to turn as well.

She was smiling.

Yoongi found his chest tight and breath shallow.

“And you didn’t leave him then… why?” he pressed.

She winced, albeit playfully. “I yelled at him. A lot. I don’t know, maybe he was tired.”

“Not an excuse.”

“I know, I know…” Sigh. “I… I didn’t want to believe I made the wrong choice.” Her eyes shifted, but her body was still turned to face his. “I… It made my entire family angry, dating him. Especially my parents. They would never forgive me and hold it over my head forever. I had to make it work. I thought, if only I worked hard enough…” Another heavy breath, squeezing her eyes tightly. “I know it was pride, but I wanted to prove to them and myself that I could do anything. Bad choices? Maybe. But they were mine. I don’t want my life decided by what is best for me. If I suffer for it, those are my consequences.”

Her eyes opened, but barely.

Yoongi kept his hand on her head, running his fingers through her hair.

“I… I feel like shit because now you’re stuck in my mistakes,” she breathed.

He liked to touch her hair. It felt comforting.

“You know what your problem is?”

She glared under lashes and dared him.

Undeterred, he continued. “You blame yourself for shit that hasn’t even happened.”

A disapproving frown. “Hah?”

He tapped her forehead. “You think it’ll bother me if you cry, but what truly bothers me is that you cry alone.” Pushed back the strands, and now he was closer, sharing breath. “You think I’m stuck in your mistakes. Mistakes don’t inherently have only negative consequences. They almost always exist in a gray area.”

“I... I know that,” she grumbled, face against his chest.

“I did say you were clever.”

A drifting, drowsy silence.

“I’m not clever,” she whispered to his skin, pulling her body closer. “I just like you.”

Yoongi felt himself losing to sleep.

“I’ve always liked you, since the moment I saw you,” he muttered into her hair, breathing in the familiar scent, so quietly that he wasn’t sure if he said it at all.

-

“Ah? Yes? Sorry about that. Oh, yes, uh, I’m painting. Everything. Yes, I’ll be sure the keep the windows open. Thank you.”

You closed the front door of the condo. Well. You had expected nervousness, but somehow the conversation between you and the downstairs neighbor had been very calm. Apparently, he worked from home and wasn’t expecting the loud crash of the ladder from your unit.

In your defense, you hadn’t expected it either.

Thankfully, you hadn’t been on the ladder, only trying to figure out how to set it up. It was one of those compact ones that saved space but required some innovative thinking to get the taller height you needed. One crash and a YouTube video later, the ladder was now secure, and then came the knock on the front door.

The thoughts flew by – I don’t belong here, I can’t do this alone, they’re going to scold me and I haven’t even done the upper half yet – but the guy just seemed curious and confused. Didn’t even comment on your awkward outfit of navy boys’ basketball shorts and ill-fitted gray sports bra. Both on super sale. You were still wearing your bra because of the incorrect size, so the gray blob was bordering on ugly-ass tank top.

Look.

Some people had clothing they didn’t care about to paint in and some people had to dive in sale bins because they left behind most of their wardrobe and, with the clothes, their bad memories.

That was the intent.

Things rarely go as intended.

For instance, you thought you were going to feel imposter syndrome for a neighbor knowing that you were painting your own goddamn walls. You turned away from the door after you locked it, frowning. That’s right. Like it or not, bad decisions and minus an ex-boyfriend later, these were your walls. You looked up, out the large, floor-to-ceiling living room windows, and saw the sunlight sparkle over the sprawling city, walls painted half-black and half white surrounding you, and you could say that you never wanted to be here, but.

It was a sick view.

We own this condo. Paint it.

Your muscles were sore from the repeated swiping motion of the paint roller, but there was still this inexplicable energy coursing through you.

“What if it doesn’t look good?” you had asked Yoongi.

He had shrugged. “Then we paint it again.”

“It’ll be dark.”

“Wow, really? I thought black was supposed to be bright and cheerful,” was the sarcastic quip. “Just believe you have good taste and paint the damn walls.”

This condo was an investment that made you poor.

That was the truth you needed to face.

You have good taste.

You scrunched your face slightly as you remembered Yoongi’s facial expression. Was he… praising you or himself? You squinted. This guy. Picked up the paint roller again and saturated it with ink black, making crispy crinkly sounds as you shuffled over the plastic. Good taste. Well, that was relative, wasn’t it? Everything was at the end of the day. You climbed onto the ladder and began the repetitive, monotone motion once more but at a higher elevation. You should have put your music back on. Your phone was on the plastic-covered mattress and you were not about to go back down until you finished this section or ran out of paint. This was going to be a long process, but you had several days and too much time as Yoongi had already left to visit his family.

Now you were alone with a lot of paint and mind-numbing fumes.

Shit, you should have opened the window.

You would have to paint a second coat anyway. Who cared if the first coat was shitty?

Sigh.

Climbing down and doing your due diligence before returning to your post.

You had forgotten once again to put your music back on. Hah. Well, that was fine; you had yourself. You didn’t mind being alone. Heh, sometimes it was better to be alone. You continued rolling away, hardworking in the consistent rhythm. Thinking about it now, this might have been the first time in a long time that you were okay with being alone. Before, you had felt guilty whenever you weren’t thinking about your relationship. Huh. Odd. Was it some kind of mental self-reassurance when you knew something was off? It was hard to tell, but possible.

Everything was off about that relationship. You just had too much pride to admit it.

You sighed, climbing back down to reload.

Wait a second. Was this why there was that wider step towards the top of the ladder? You poured some more paint in the tray and carried it up with you. Oh shit. Wow. Innovation. You coughed and went back to a different patch of wall. No one saw that. See, perks of being alone.

Well, you didn’t hate Yoongi being here.

You stopped painting.

You didn’t just think that.

You went back to painting. Shut up, nagging feeling. You furiously painted on, ignoring your soreness, telling that little voice in your head to shut up, because there were plenty of reasons not to think stuff like that. Firstly, you weren’t ready to think stuff like that. And what if it was only hopeful transference rather than genuine feeling? Asshole or not, your ex-boyfriend’s betrayal of trust was not something so easily overcome. It wasn’t fair to Yoongi either, pretending to like him if you weren’t sure.

You liked Yoongi before you broke up, too.

Wasn’t that fucked up?

You sighed and came back down, careful to scoot the ladder without spilling and causing a mess. Back up and at it. Of course, it was fucked up. And you knew it was, which might have been why you let it get that bad. Might? Was why you let it get that bad. Two hypocrites were meant for each other. You huffed, puffing your cheeks. It wasn’t enough to hold the ticking grenade; you had needed confirmation it was a, in fact, a bomb.

Maybe even hoping it would end you.

It didn’t.

For some reason, you thought Yoongi could see that in you.

Damn, he’s really living in your system, hm?

You frowned.

Your phone rang.

You almost jumped, startled at the sudden sound of an old song you used to enjoy. Back when you were a teenager, and the memories came back as you climbed down. A kid who just really liked rock’n’roll, and parents who did not, but that kid didn’t care, annoyingly setting it as her ringtone on her shitty flip phone. Couldn’t you be her again? Before you had time to ponder, you checked your hands for paint and picked up your phone, answering it.

“Hello?”

“Did you eat?”

You blinked, sitting down on the crinkly plastic upon hearing that deep, raspy voice. “Uh, no. I was gonna stop by the convenience store when the first coat was done.”

“No, you weren’t. You were gonna skip a meal,” Min Yoongi tutted. “Because you don’t want to be a nuisance and use the money I had left you.”

Damn. He knew you, all right.

“If I forget, I forget,” you grumbled.

“Yeah, yeah. Anyway, pick up the food order from the front desk when it comes. They told me about thirty minutes.”

“You don’t have to order food for me. I’m not a kid,” you hissed.

“It’s the pho spot you like and if I don’t put food in front of you, you won’t eat. You intend to do all that hard work without some fuel?” A pause. You made a disapproving noise. “And I know you’re not a kid. By the way, what’s your waist measurement?”

You remained a grump. “Why?”

“I’m here, so I’m going to buy you some clothes.”

“Don’t buy me clothes. Don’t spend money–”

“You need things,” Yoongi cut you off. “Unless you want to come with me? You don’t trust me?”

“That’s not it and you know it,” you snapped back. “It’s not worth–”

“Of course, it isn’t. It’s vain and silly and superficial. And I’m still going to buy you things, so tell me your waist measurement.”

“Yoongi, this is your hard-earned money,” you puffed out, exasperated.

“Yeah, and I make money to provide you with a good life because I think you are the most important person to me. So, do you want me to guess with my hands or are you going to meet me halfway?”

Dead silence.

He called your name, softly.

You told him in centimeters.

“Got it. Don’t forget to check the front desk in thirty minutes.”

-

“I love you.”

His hair was stuck to his face due to sweat. “What?”

“I said I love you,” she said, staring right at him, their chests shuddering from exertion.

Yoongi couldn’t believe it, but also he wasn’t surprised. The room still smelled faintly like paint. The windows still had no curtains or blinds. They were still fucking on the mattress in the center of the living room and he was holding the used condom when she said I love you.

The walls and ceiling were all black, covering them in darkness as the city below glimmered with light.

“I love you,” was his reply.

It startled him, the suddenness of his response. He knew he did. Of course, he did, and he turned away quickly, making his way to the kitchen and throwing away the condom, skin tingling, cheeks aflame, and he was startled by the feeling that remained. He hadn’t expected those words to come out of her mouth even though he was sure of his own feelings. Yoongi had resigned himself to not hear it from her lips. He also didn’t need to hear it to know that it was true.

He saw her head to the bathroom.

Time was funny sometimes.

Suddenly they were both staring at each other on the mattress, the usual ritual completed, and the moment suspended.

“You didn’t have to say it,” he finally said. “For my sake.”

“I didn’t.” Her hair curled over her shoulder, caressing her curves. “I said it for my sake.”

Blankets and pillows and questions.

“I wondered about the validity of it,” she admitted to him. “Been wrong before and all that. Might still be wrong. So, I said it just to see if I regretted it.”

“Ah.”

They stared into each other’s eyes.

“Do you?” he asked.

She shook her head. “No.”

He half-smiled. How very simple yet complicated. He understood. “All the paint fumes really got to your head, huh?”

She looked up at him and he realized with a start that she, too, was half-smiling.

He reached out, smoothing her hair.

“You have a pretty face, Yoongi,” she teased, eyes sparkling.

He raised an eyebrow.

“I thought it would be too cliché, you and me,” she continued and the tone was different now, softer and more serious. “I thought you would get tired.”

She meant, of me.

He had thought this was cliché too. Cliché didn’t mean worthless though. His hand fell, and rested over hers without a second thought. Warm and against the sheets. “If I felt that way, I would have stopped speaking to you long ago. You could take care of yourself too.” Not safely, but could. “Except for money.”

She smirked.

“So you’re saying I need a suga daddy.”

Yoongi twitched.

“Part of me wanted to sell the condo as soon as possible,” she went on, casually glossing over the comment. “But the realtor said it would be a bad idea. I wouldn’t have any buyers without a minimum of six months or a year. Too many superstitions. Part of me thought I should…”

She looked up to the ceiling.

It was a high-rise, after all.

“All the reasons to move here were his. More convenient, better opportunities, owning rather than renting for the investment… I believed in it, more than myself.”

He didn’t say anything. Couldn’t because all those things had benefitted him already. He didn’t only agree to move in help her out. He was still a working music producer. But she didn’t seem to be saying it to condone him.

“I didn’t really think this place was mine until I painted the walls.”

Yoongi thought he should at least confess this part. “That’s why I told you to paint them.”

A small laugh. “You don’t like it, huh?”

“Don’t you remember the walls of the old studio were dark gray? That was my doing. I always resented the last place I rented because they didn’t let me paint the walls.”

“Ah… He painted over the gray.”

“I bet he did.”

They had fallen to the bed now, side by side.

“I didn’t think this would work out,” she breathed.

“I thought it might,” he hummed.

“Why?”

“You’re hot and clever and I wanted you from the first day I saw you.”

A warm chuckle. “Just like that?”

“Well, you had to give me a chance. Couldn’t make the first move due to the circumstances.”

“It was a convoluted and confusing one.”

“Eh, life’s unfair.”

-

“Your husband already paid.”

Your what?

“What?”

The cashier waved you away. You shuffled back, dazed, seeing Min Yoongi emerge from the bathroom in the corner of the restaurant, tucking a bit of his long black hair behind his ears and finding you in front of him.

“The cashier just called you my husband,” you declared.

He shrugged.

“Surprise.”

You blinked at him.

Patrons chatted and laughed as if this was a normal day. The music was horrendous covers of cheesy 2000’s pop. It was very strange, but the pho was good and well-priced, which was why Yoongi and you came here often after his meetings with music companies. Popular talent was in high demand.

He ticked his head to your outfit. “I know you like this dress I bought you, but you’ve left your coat at the table.”

“Oh, shit.”

“You’ve been scatterbrained ever since you started writing again.”

“Shut up.”

--

masterpost

[grievedeeply]

Please please please do a gow kratos! daughter x the spiders 'v' i meannn the multiverse IS real... hehehehehehehe

i actually really like this idea.. a crossover between two of my favorite things right now really gets me giggling LOL. these are all sorta short, but i didn't want to repeat myself too much. thanks for the request!

fem!reader | no tws

the spiders with kratos' daughter (god of war crossover)

miles morales

you're the daughter of a god? gods are actually a real thing? like, greek gods?

miles freaks out a little. not because you scare him but because he has SO many questions! he's a curious person and has to resist the urge to ask you about literally everything

he thinks you're so cool, even if you're a bit intimidating at first. he can only assume that's because you're a literal gods child

i can just picture you saying "oh yeah my dad killed this god" and his jaw drops. how you say it so casually is just- he's so confused

BUT he does really like you!

arm wrestling that results in you winning every time is definitely something that frequently happens

gwen stacy

similarly to miles, gwen is really curious. she's curious about how you ended up in her world, mostly. aren't you like.. supposed to be worshipped, or something? shouldn't you be busy?

she isn't afraid to ask her questions though, practically showering you in them the first time you meet. you barely have time to react before she asks her next one

though, you become fast friends

gods being real isn't something that surprises her? she accepts it really quick. after all, the multiverse is a thing, why are gods so far fetched?

she'll listen super intently to whatever you feel like telling her. she thinks you're awesome but she won't say it to your face

hobie brown

your dad killed an oppressive god with an evil regime? awesome

you definitely have some similar opinions, so you get along really well. he wants to hear everything about where you come from, like.. how did you even manage to get to his universe?

he doesn't care about that though, he's got a new friend, and that's the most important part of it all

he's super laidback about you being a god, and he doesn't ask any questions. but he's happy to listen if you feel up to talking about your dad or where you come from

he treats you like he does anyone else. he doesn't want you feeling out of place or unwelcomed <3

pavitr prabhakar

brags about you to everyone

"my friend, the goddess-" type stuff. you explain that you're only half god, but pav does not care. you're just soooo cool in his eyes

you become his best friend immediately. he shows you everything in his universe that he thinks you'll like or reminds him of you

he was shocked to find out the greek gods existed, but he doesn't linger on it for very long because you're standing in front of him and he has QUESTIONS

asks you about your world all the time. he wants you to feel at home in his universe too <3

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Can I request Glitchy red being followed around by a Child NPC with Ice types who he defeated..and at that moment they gained sentience/snapped outta the NPC behavior and now..travels and follows him around bc they’re like “WOAHHH YOUR SO COOL!! :00 :3” and like chats up a storm and and see him as they’re idol and as a big brother figure and wants to be friends with him headcanons? He isn’t lonely anymore! :3

Awe yeah wholesome times <3

........

"I guess that's one way to break the ice!"

Although it may have been humorous to the player, Glitchy Red wasn't laughing at your post-battle line at all.

Nor did he feel any sort of victory in defeating you, one of the only NPCs with a functional Pokémon battle.

You did have some high-leveled ice types for such a young trainer class, but that just reminded him of how broken this game is...and how you really weren't any different from the others.

You were merely puppeteered by scripted dialogue, standing in the same place forever as you handed him his prize: a thousand pokedollars.

Yet he didn't wanna take them. He had millions in his inventory already, but it was all useless to him.

So he tries returning them to you, insisting that you deserved it more.

But you don't even react, instead repeating that same phrase over and over again.

"Take the damn money, kid. You need it more than me."

"I guess that's one way to break the ice!"

"I swear if you say that one more time..."

"I guess that's one way to-!"

"Shut up." In a small fit of frustration, Glitchy Red takes your hand and puts the money into your palm himself, fingers curling around it as he stares intensely at you with glowing eyes.

Yet his anger quickly subsides..and he wonders why tf he thought anything would be different with you.

He's just so lonely here and wishes somebody would wake up.

But after seeing you glitch, he steps back and thinks you're gonna disappear into oblivion thanks to him.

He turns away, not wanting to see it.

However he barely takes a few steps forward before he feels something grab the back of your shirt.

And it's...your hand????

"Red, it's you!! The champion!! Oh my gosh...what happened to this place? Why is everything so weird?"

He's stunned into complete silence, taking a moment to process the fact that someone must've heard him.....because you broke free of your programming!

He doesn't know how you did it or how he could've done it, but he's shocked as he watches you heal your Pokémon, bringing out the Cloyster, Dewgong, and Lapras he just defeated.

"Everyone! This is Red, and he's the coolest!! Can you believe we had a chance to fight him???" You whisper excitedly to your team, completely aware of the tall menacing glitchy man standing next to you.

Ever since then, you've been following him around the map, but mostly in Glitch City where you saw the same anomalies as him.

Yet you weren't have a total freakout or a crisis over it like he did....as you're too busy chatting about everything you admired about him.

And even though you have sentience now, you still retained your habit of using ice-related puns

He's certain you're mistaking his achievements for the actual Red's...or the version of himself in Gold that got casted as a "final boss" NPC.

However, you didn't seem aware of that. So who was he to crush your dreams?

Especially the dreams of the only other character in this cursed world that liked him and could talk to him?

Besides, being deemed a failure by his creators and basically left to rot took a toll on him....he never thought himself worthy of praise or positive attention.

Not even the words from NPCs helped, because he knew they were all scripted lines written into the game. They were empty.

But he believes yours 100% because you're alive and truly do mean them.

You wonder why he looked so angry all the time...and when he finally tells you the reason, he's afraid you're gonna run off scared.

Yet you hug him and promise to never leave his side.

That also makes him absolutely TERRIFIED of you possibly despawning/getting corrupted from touching him...

But nothing bad happens at all.

He may have shed a few tears after hugging you back, only to hide his face with his hat after letting you go....completely denying the fact he was crying.

Although he doesn't show it, he's genuinely happy not to be alone anymore and finds living here a little more bearable.

[hanbindans]

BIG SPOON OR LITTLE SPOON??? 🎤🎤

a/n: I wrote this on impulse at 1 am and I have no regrets. I think I'm right btw but feel free to argue with me in the reblogs or comments if you want because I want friends. lowercase intended (I'm on desktop fight me if you want) also this is SATIRE in case it's not clear

jiwoong

big spoon all the way. little spoon makes him a little uncomfortable. like what if you bite him between the shoulder blades?? if he wants to be held he needs to be face-to-face with you so he can keep track of your moves and make sure you're not planning to attack him.

zhang hao

hmmm. mostly big spoon but it depends on his mood. sometimes after a long day dealing with people not as smart as him (everyone) he needs to be restrained as the little spoon so he doesn't go feral and commit any crimes. and he likes it when his back gets all warm and he can calm down 😗.

hanbin

little spoon but he doesn't know it. insists on being big spoon because it makes him feel like he's protecting you but actually he is the one who needs to be protected. we all need to be protect hanbin at all costs. he DESERVES to be little spoon.

taerae

50% big spoon and 50% little spoon. he doesn't really care. you had a bad day? taerae is big spoon that day. he had to walk home in the rain? YOU'RE big spoon so he can warm up. a king who is secure in his masculinity.

matthew

little spoon by default but he wants to be big spoon so bad he will actually wrestle you so he can get behind you. I believe he is pretty strong though he will give great cuddles as big spoon with those arms. makes you pretty warm and toasty.

ricky

too cool for little spoon. has to be big spoon every time this is simply not up for discussion with him. just go with it. and to be fair he is a pretty good big spoon because mans got them custom sized limbs perfect for holding another human.

gyubin

hmm.... I say little spoon at heart but big spoon by default because there is no big spooning this boy, the only other option is being his jetpack. he'd rather have his head cradled to your chest as his limbs cling to you because it has similar vibes to little spoon, just without the little. you should still ask for him to be big spoon sometimes though because I feel like he would be pretty warm.

gunwook

75% big spoon and 25% little spoon. imo he should be little spoon-ed more but once again his height is kind of working against him on this one. but he also wants to be big spoon most of the time so it's all good in the end. be sure to be his jetpack once in a while tho so bro can fill his cuddles quota.

[profounddefendorcrusade-blog]

Flaws/imperfections of each main character

because we all have em'.

Dalv

pushes people away

clings so much to how things turned out in the past that he's unwilling to make new memories

as that one sweet corn said if you backtrack, he's a "mopey mope"

deff has OCD

not trusting

not friendly

unwilling to get out of his comfort zone

trusts his own judgement too much

he's literally me. I feel called out... thanks, Dalv. You're awesome ❤️

Martlet

unwilling to get out of her comfort zone

slacker

scatterbrained

bit of a dummy (I feel so bad for saying this; love you Marts! ❤️)

blames herself too much

anxious

not sure if she's depressed, but she DOES lack self-confidence and is a bit awkward at times

REALLY likes material comforts & nice things to the point where it was her main reason (besides not having to work too hard) for keeping the not-so-moral royal guard job (also mentions how she wants to steal jewels from the mines)

unsure of herself and her future

gives too many chances/a bit naive (to geno Clover)

trusts her own judgement too much (that getting a job as the royal guard was a good idea, that geno Clover is good deep down)

Starlo

INSECURE INSECURE INSECURE

doesn't love himself :(

kidnaps a child

overly enthusiastic to the point he literally "started a fire"

reckless (while North Star)

relies so heavily on his social image that he expects it to make him feel worthy (of love, admiration)

hides his quirks

a biiit arrogant (while North Star)

mischievous childish trickster (to Blackjack, maybe… unless Jack's role-playing the role of the "victim"; while North Star)

needs too much external validation

uses distractions to escape negative things/emotions instead of dealing with them

people pleaser

puts too much pressure on himself

ignorant (of many things such as horses and gumballs, but mostly of his and others' true feelings and desires) He just doesn't get that the others weren't having a good time, and that they wanted the old him back. He just doesn't get that all he did, he did because he doesn't like who he is and wants others to love him for his persona. Thankfully he realized it in the end

refuses to accept that he was being too much into this whole thing and instead turns to STATUS STATUS STATUS (more love, more admiration = getting his friends back)

hides his true self from the world

just wants to be cool

naive and foolish (don't even remind me of geno)

my boy's totally not perfect, gotta love him for it :)

P.s: holy heck he's the most flawed of them. Love you sm star 🌟 ❤️

Ceroba

manipulative

liar and hypocrite

pessimistic

blames herself too much

won't forgive (herself) and forget (what she did wrong)

stubborn

emotionally weak (sorry Cer, Star helps ya with this)

emotions and feelings influence her actions too much (praising Chujin even though he didn't win a prestigious award, injects Kanako the second she mentions how Chujin's dream could "come true" if she injects her, willing to brutally hit Martlet and Starlo and potentially kill them just for what she felt she had to do, aka kill Clover)

clings to the past too much/nostalgic of better times instead of making new, happy memories and letting things go (you can do this, Cer ❤️)

everyone

• willingly or unwillingly killed/almost killed a child

• ok guys, I really can't excuse this one. Sorry :(( I love you all tho :))

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Protecting my best friend

PAIRING | Steve Rogers x Avenger!Female!Reader

WORD COUNT | 1K

SUMMARY | All of the Avengers are going to a bar, and Steve is keeping a close eye on the man who is trying to get your attention. He is trying his hardest to keep his cool, but he won't hesitate to intervene when things go too far, and you're getting uncomfortable.

WARNING(S) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. Protective Steve, a SHIELD agent making sexist jokes about women, non-consensual touching (not sexual, just physical), and broken bones.

A/N | I would absolutely love to write more for Steve, so if you have a request, please let me know! It can be fluff, smut or angst - or a combination! Thank you in advance! 🖤

Likes, comments and reblogs will be very much appreciated 💜

Main Masterlist | Steve Rogers Masterlist

''Dude, you really need to calm down, everything is okay!'' Sam says as he looks at the scowl on Steve's face. He's been watching you and the man you're talking to like a hawk because he doesn't want anything to happen to you. ''I don't know, she seems uncomfortable,'' he says as he's looking at the SHIELD agent you're talking to. You're completely fine, but Steve has always been very protective of you since you joined the team. While you're talking to the agent you keep looking over to Steve, and you have noticed he keeps staring at you, so you excuse yourself for a moment to talk to him.

''Steve, you honestly have a bigger staring problem than Barnes,'' you say with a sigh as you're standing in front of him. Everyone at the table chuckles at your remark, and you're getting a soft ''Hey!'' from Bucky, but he laughs too. ''I'm absolutely fine, so can you please just let me finish my conversation with Connor before you start burning holes into the back of my head?'' you ask him and he nods, grabbing his drink and turning back on the stool he's sitting on so he's facing the other Avengers again.

You walk back to the agent you were having a conversation with. ''I'm so sorry for that, Connor, Captain Rogers was just worried,'' you say with a small smile, and he nods. ''It's okay, but I would be worried too if I were him. I wouldn't let such a gorgeous lady like yourself talk to other men,'' he shrugs and now you are getting a little uncomfortable even though he called you gorgeous. The two of you carried on your conversation, but he kept making more sexist remarks like that and now you honestly wish Steve was looking your way. ''Sorry, I have to go to the bathroom,'' you say and you're starting to walk away, but he doesn't let you as he grabs your arm.

You let out a small whine at the feeling of him squeezing your arm like that, and due to Steve and his super soldier hearing, he can hear you perfectly fine. His head snaps to the side in an instant and when he sees what is happening, he pulls Bucky off of the stool next to him and he immediately follows Steve. ''Are you okay, Pumpkin?'' he asks and you shake your head, because Connor is still holding your arm pretty tightly, making tears stream down your face. Steve grabs Connor's arm and in an instant, he lets go of your arm, Bucky pulls you away from him and out of the way so he can take care of you.

''How bad does it hurt, doll?'' Bucky says as he inspects the place on your upper arm where Connor squeezed you. ''It mostly burns, but that's it. But I was really scared, he was okay one minute but when I came back he made all these sexist remarks about me and women in general and when I excused myself to go to the bathroom he didn't let me,'' You explain, the tears streaming down your face more steadily now. ''Oh doll, I'm so sorry about what happened,'' he says as he pulls you into his chest, his arms wrapped protectively around you as he shields you with his body from what is happening behind the two of you.

Steve dragged Connor outside by his collar and pushed him into an alley, so they wouldn't be seen. You ran after the both of them at first but Bucky was quick enough to stand in front of you since you didn't want to go back inside. ''I just can't believe he's doing this, he has no right to be jealous. I get that he was making sexist remarks and everything, but Steve is going too far now,'' you say, softly sobbing into Bucky's chest. ''Doll, I promise you he's not doing it because he's jealous, he's just extremely protective over you. I get that it looks like he's jealous, but he isn't,'' Bucky says, placing a soft kiss on the top of your head.

You're well aware that Steve has always been protective - and sometimes even possessive - over you, but you didn't mind until tonight. You could hear grunts and the sounds of broken bones coming from behind the thick wall of muscle your cheek was pressed up against, and it only made you sob harder into Bucky's chest, you never meant for any of this to happen. Not long after you can hear Connor groan so you know he's still alive, and Bucky's body quickly gets replaced with Steve's as he pulls you into his arms this time. ''I'm so sorry you had to hear all of that Pumpkin,'' he says against your hair, but all you can do is cry into his chest.

''C'mon, let's go back to the Compound so you can calm down a little, okay?'' Steve says and you nod. The Compound isn't far from the bar where you were so he just picked you up and carried you there, and Bucky informed everyone inside the two of you went back. ''Can I sleep in your bed tonight? Don't want to be alone,'' you ask and Steve nods. ''Of course, Pumpkin,'' he says, and when the two of you reach his bedroom, he sets you down on the bed and he hands you one of his old t-shirts to sleep in. He goes to the bathroom to change in there so you could have some privacy as you changed into the shirt Steve gave you, which was way too big but it smells like him so it's okay.

''Can I come back in?'' Steve asks and you say that he can. You already went and laid down under the covers, and not long after Steve slipped in beside you. You move over to him and your head finds his place on his chest, your leg put over his. His arms are around you and pulling you closer before he puts a soft kiss on your forehead. ''Thank you for protecting me, it means a lot,'' you say and Steve just smiles. ''Everything for my Pumpkin,'' he says, and your eyes fall shut as sleep is taking over quickly when you're wrapped in his warm body acting like your personal heater. You have a nice dreamless sleep and feel well-rested in the morning, and you're even more thankful for Steve saving you now.

[endivinity]

Hi! I'm the anon who asked you abt the TTRPG Deathclaws thing. I just wanted to thank you for the long and cohesive response and your take on the whole thing! I love worldbuilding and more specifically making animal variants and the reason i asked to begin with was because you inspired me a ton and i wanted to expand upon the ideas you have presented in your super cool blurbs--

But i think itd be better of me to try to respect your art and instead try to make something of my own instead of expanding on something of yours- even if my art of the things i have come up with will never be as visually amazing or indepth as yours. I really adore your art and creativity when it comes to creature designs- thank you for inspiring me.

Im sorry if you got any mean anons because of my ask.

Heya!! it's time to go on another tangent oh boy

I've also loved worldbuilding and creature design since I was a little kid who was notably bad at it due to being a child. I adored the trend for pokemon fusions and variants when they came through and I was doing them even before they were a huge trend - I filled out books of the things in high school! But not every artist or fanartist particularly starts on similar routes. Sometimes they don't have creative friends to essentially trebuchet their development into creature design early on.

It's not something I can pretend everyone has a penchant for and can just do on a whim - it takes a particularly malleable thought process to just decouple what is into what could be, and how far you can or even want to stretch that. But everyone has to start somewhere! I believe my journey of deathclaw designs started in 2016 as just a tiny scratch on the surface from 'what if they were different behaviourally' to 'what if they were different... visually' - when my only major inputs for design ideas were fallout 4/NV and skyrim, and it showed. Strong designs come from 'what is the purpose of it in this setting' and you reverse engineer traits shared by real or fantasy (and therefore a chain reaction of traits shared by real) animals - and you can only reverse engineer using what you know!

So - save the deathclaw variants as inspiration but also! Make a huge folder of things. Pad it out with a bunch of stuff. Build a visual library. See what other artists are doing with their concepts (this is probably also why monster hunter is so popular, because it has an ecological niche that makes it feel believable) and let that color the world you're trying to build. Let yourself go 'ok this artist did this. so what if I did something similar, with a different color scheme or scale type or animal part? what if it lived somewhere else, how would that affect it?' God knows the bethesda presentation of fallout is incredibly two dimensional and the worldbuilding needs all the help it can get

it's how you get insane premises for fics, AUs, and tabletop campaigns alike - by stepping off the beaten path and showing how much you understand the world when your concepts that fuck it up can still maintain a cohesive and believable presence in it. Though it's still a lot of effort to take any steps along this journey, which is why a lot of people don't like start u_u

So good luck, honestly, and keep being inspired by things!

(and don't worry, so far the anons have behaved themselves! mostly.)

[zgvlt]

sending your crush a survey form hcs part 4 second years x reader (separate) -> kalim, jamil, silver

general tags: gn reader, fluff + attempt at humor, sfw, not beta read, mix of text and images (for images, alt text/image description available)

other parts in this series

character: KALIM AL-ASIM premise/trope: sending your best friend a crush form. it's mutual but everybody... sort of just assumed that the two of you were already dating already

HOW HE (AND JAMIL) REACTS WHEN YOU SEND THE FORM LINK

Kalim's amused by many things, music one of the more significant interests he has. So, when he learned that he could customize the ringtones and notification sounds he has for all of his friends, he spends a lot of time assigning a tune for each person in his life.

It's why he immediately jumps up and searches for his phone when he hears the song he specifically chose for you.

Jamil gets it for him the second he recognizes the song playing because he's heard it so much it's ingrained in his memory.

(Kalim does not mute his phone unless specifically asked to. Usually for emergency purposes but Jamil doubts messaging you 24/7 qualifies as such).

Jamil checks the message briefly to make sure you're not getting hacked (it said you sent over a link and, well, there's been an increase in MagiCam accounts getting hacked lately...)

Jamil wishes he never checked it. When he gives Kalim his phone, he wants to walk away immediately. He does NOT want to be on the receiving end of the gushing, no way, absolutely not.

Even if it is a little cute, like some kind of fairy tale that he might have liked in his youth, he just wants to have some peace, and peace did not include Kalim yapping about how lovely and cool and amazing he thought you were.

Kalim's talking about how much he loves you and Jamil's immediate instinct is to sigh and ask why he won't tell you instead. You're his significant other or some other label anyway, right?

Kalim blinks in confusion, his fingers pausing the sticker spam he was inevitably doing.

"We're not dating though?" Kalim says. Jamil pops a blood vessel. "I wish we were! We could go on all sorts of cool dates, we could go visit my family, and then..."

Jamil tells him they literally already do that. They go on cool dates all the time. His family knows who you are (partially his fault, he let them know who Kalim spends all his time with these days, but obviously Kalim's fault for talking about you, too).

Jamil exits the room and tells Kalim to read the questions properly. He also says congratulations in advance.

Kalim's not dumb by any means, so when he realizes what the form is all about he's cheering and giggling to himself, like he wants to get his flying carpet to take a quick ride while, simultaneously, go get his drum kit so he could play his sudden excitement out.

His answers are equally excitable as your questions. Though it's mostly just vibes, he does get some really sweet answers out there about how much he likes you.

HOW HE ANSWERS THE QUESTIONS

AFTER HE ANSWERS THE FORM

Your relationship had been a long time coming... At least, that was how you and Kalim saw it. The two of you were so intertwined in each other's lives that spending your futures together just made sense.

For everyone else, they had thought the relationship was already there in the first place, so imagine their surprise when Kalim announces that there was going to be a party, a party to celebrate his new relationship, with you as the guest of honor.

They call Jamil a traitor for not telling them you and Kalim hadn't actually been dating all this time. Jamil wants to explain that even he didn't know, but he decides it's more fun to pretend he was the outlier who knew the truth all along.

He's planning a celebration for you, actively participating in the creation and setting up process because it's important to him that you would enjoy. He's taking into account what food and drinks you enjoy, how much people you want to attend and who should be in attendance, the music you want playing, even the colors of the decorations.

Initially, he wanted the party to be a surprise but he can't resist calling you. He wants this to be a perfect gift for you! He has to make sure you like each and every thing, so he calls you every few minutes to ask about even the tiniest of details.

It also probably helps that he just... really likes talking and listening to you.

Speaking of talking... While he keeps many of the specifics to himself, he's also talking about how nice and great and cute you are for confessing to him that way. It becomes the talk of the dorm, and Jamil won't be surprised if it becomes the modern day love story of their homeland.

Kalim's the one who seeks you out too, picking you up from wherever you said you were to bring you back to the dorm. He's so excited that he's (finally!) your partner!

The two of you spend a few minutes gushing about each other, and then he says,

"Alright, let's go!" He pulls you along with him, grasping your hand in his. "Let's celebrate the start of our love together!"

character: JAMIL VIPER premise/trope: sending your boyfriend, who you miss very much and is very busy, a crush form to remind him that your feelings have not waned one bit

HOW HE REACTS WHEN YOU SEND THE FORM LINK

You're wonderful to him, really, so you have the decency to send the link a little later into the evening, around the time you know he'd have less chores to do, more academics in turn. It's a time you know he'll allow himself to check his phone, and you know your message will go read.

You tell him you don't have to open the link immediately, to only do it when he's free.

Jamil sees the form file name and title and, well, he thinks it's time for him to wrap up his evening immediately. If he's to abide by your request, that is, to answer the form when he missed you... That would mean answering as soon as possible.

JAMIL : I don't know how to react. Should I call you corny or sweet for pulling a stunt like this?

He tells you that, but the reality is that his body has already decided how to react for him. His face feels too warm for comfort (which says a lot, considering he's rather used to the heat already).

He's hiding his face with his hood on the way to his room, and even when he's in the privacy of his quarters he can't help but want to cover up his face a little longer.

Conflicted between immediately getting back to you (at least, sending in his answers before you go to sleep) and preparing for bed, he ultimately decides to save the best for last, getting his heart to calm down as he undoes his hair and takes off his jewelry.

When he reads through the questions, he goes from being ready to pass out to doing leg kicks in bed and burying his face in his pillow (because he changed from his uniform, therefore no more hood).

Jamil answers the questions a little bluntly (with some quips aimed towards you here and there), but since it's something private, something he's sure you won't share with anyone else, he's comfortable giving you the affection you seek (and which he, too, misses giving and receiving).

(He also, just, has a thing for imagining you as flustered as you make him, so he likes to flirt a little bit. Oops 😊😁🤭)

HOW HE ANSWERS THE QUESTIONS

AFTER HE ANSWERS THE FORM

Morning come, everybody notices that Jamil is in SUCH a good mood, so good he can't even hide it.

It's surprising that he's acknowledging anyone at all considering, upon closer inspection, Jamil's eyebags looked... well, noticeable. Especially since he hadn't put on any makeup yet.

Kalim's usually the mood maker in Scarabia, but Jamil's genuine smiles are infectious, and soon enough everyone else is smiling, too, even so early in the morning.

Though they do wish he would talk to them a little bit more instead of spending his time on his phone (another rarity), but overall they're just happy that Jamil is happy.

(They all consider making some kind of prayer or offering to the Sevens now. Whatever or whoever is making their vice dorm leader having a wonderful morning, may it continue to do so forever)

As for Jamil... He knows he spent a good amount of time talking to you last night, but upon waking his natural instinct is to greet you immediately.

You're his treasure, his love, so if he goes to sleep thinking of you instead of dreading the morning come, and wakes thinking of you instead of the pile of work he'll inevitably face, who can really blame him for being visibly content?

JAMIL : I know I said I'd be too busy this week to commit to a date, but I don't think I can wait that long to see you. JAMIL : I'll find an excuse for Kalim, so... JAMIL : Shall we go on a date tonight?

character: SILVER premise/trope: sending Silver the form should have been relatively uneventful... if not for his well-meaning but nosy family

HOW HE (and the rest of Diasomnia) REACTS WHEN YOU SEND THE FORM LINK

The thing is... Silver's asleep when you send the link. That's not your fault of course, nor is it is. However, the two of you just have the most unfortunate timing. Maybe you shouldn't have sent multiple follow up messages, then it would not have alerted anyone else.

Silver's phone has multiple beeps and, well, his fae companions are a little more sensitive to sound than others. It's inevitable that they'd either be annoyed or intrigued by the constant notifications.

Sebek just wanted to mute it, really! However, the screen lights up when he puts it in front of his face, and he sees your name, and he instinctively says it out loud, and then it's all over.

Lilia and Malleus are taking peeks at the small device as well, trying to make sense of the cut-off previews of each message you sent.

Sebek is... trying to be a good person so he's doing that thing where he covers his face with his hand, but leaves a gap between his fingers for him to read the texts.

They want to wake up Silver because SILVER'S LOVE LIFE IS ON THE LINE WHAT IF YOU DELETE YOUR MESSAGES AND DECIDE YOU REGRET YOUR (admittedly unique) CONFESSION.

Lilia's talking about taking one for the team and he activates the face recognition unlock on Silver's phone. He's not going to look through what you sent or anything (yet) but he does send you a text to let you know that Silver's still asleep and to not worry about why he's not responding.

Well, that stops the message influx.

Ironically, it's the silence that wakes Silver up, and he's immediately suspicious when he sees three fae crowd over his cellphone.

When he finds out you've been sending texts he's very apologetic to have kept you waiting, and when he realizes just what you sent he's extra apologetic... and flustered. Not only did you send him such a thing, but his father, Malleus, and Sebek all got a glimpse of it, too.

SILVER : I'm sorry for taking so long. I feel asleep again. SILVER : I have control of my phone now, in case you were worried about... the others being overly curious again. SILVER : I'll answer what you sent and get back to you as quickly as I can.

Silver's answers are serious and straight to the point, but not to the point that it lacks affection. Rather, he manages to weave in his perception and feelings for you rather seamlessly.

HOW HE ANSWERS THE QUESTIONS

AFTER HE ANSWERS THE FORM

He just meant to let the trio outside his room (he knows they're there, they are not being very discrete) know that he was going to meet up with you for a little bit, maybe talk about the next steps of any relationship you could cultivate in person.

However, they're bombarding him with apologies for snooping (he's already forgiven them, honestly) and questions about whether he's finally having his first romance.

Even Sebek, once he says his piece about making sure to allocate enough time for training and academics, gets pretty into it.

Silver clarifies that he's going to meet up with you specifically to discuss what the two of you should do with your mutual feelings, and then they're talking about what courtship offering he could give and what attire he should wear and what song he could perform ad he loves them, really, but it's a little bit too much.

He lets them know he'll leave as he is and that he'll be back for dinner. Lilia jokes that he should cook something special for the occasion and to bring you along to dine with them.

He runs before he can be pressured into agreeing. Malleus and Sebek look like they want to join him instead of facing Lilia's cooking.

You're talking to a bird when he sees you. The sight makes Silver smile.

"The birds have a great eye. Those colors suit you," Silver says. He makes sure the stem has no thorns before he tucks it between your ear. "Perhaps the forest critters have taken a liking to you, too."

masterlist | end notes

[ 1 ] Compared to the previous crush forms (aside from Floyd's), these ones sort of have the theme of getting people involved in the process. I feel like if I were to make or receive one, I would be sharing them or letting my friends take a look, so it felt realistic enough to have some characters actually tell people about the form and not just keep it to themselves

[ 2 ] I don't think I have to say this, but don't violate people's privacy with their phone in real life HAHAHAHA this is for plot purposes only

< special tags >

@merotwst here bestie ito na yung tag mo HAHAHAHA surry napatagal ng post hihi

If anyone wants to be tagged for when a specific character's form gets posted feel free to let me know :> I can tag you too

[foursaints]

hi <3

first of all, i wanted to tell you i'm always stalking your blog (in a non creepy way) because i love everything about it. mostly i love how you use your big brain™️ to share some insanely detailed headcanons about some silly dead gay wizards (i mean that in the nicest way possible. i'm a little bit in love with you actually . anyway i'm digressing)

second of all, i wanted to know if you could share some of your thoughts about bartylily🤲🏻 because i'm fairly sure you're the main reason i'm hooked on them

much love <333

ANYTHING for bartylily... lately i've been attached to the idea of a college au where they're Rival Campus Radio Station Hosts.

barty is a spectacularly unmotivated senior who dropped out of a prestigious engineering degree to study practical SFX for horror movies instead. everyone has vague, peripheral knowledge of him after an incident where he was found passed out naked in the campus fountain. his apartment with the slytherins isn't technically a frat house but there's a structure in the kitchen affectionately referred to as the "Leaning Tower of Miller Lite" & barty has a nearly imperceptible crescent-shaped chip in his front tooth from a keg-standing mishap. he wears a lot of chains and has several john carpenter themed tattoos and he REEKS like cigarettes. so many pairs of mystery panties turn up in his laundry hamper that his housemates have started calling it the Lost And Found.

he has a deeply beloved & charmingly unpolished radio show in the primetime spot which mostly consists of him having his friends on, spotlighting terrible underground bands, and making drily ironical, beautifully mean jabs.

lily is an overzealous sophomore who's triple-majoring in three equally unmarketable degrees (it's, like, polisci & international affairs & communications) who's blessed with the gift of taking every single thing that happens on campus WAY too serious. she runs their Model UN like it's the navy. she's the RA who is always marching around her floor in a spaghetti-strap tanktop & bunny slippers with a scrunchie on her wrist, shaking her fist at people. there was a period following her breakup with james where she was literally reading Machiavelli for inspiration. she's right on the precipice of the cool-girl academic meltdown that will lead to Serious Character Growth, but she isn't quite there yet.

her well-made and well-researched radio show is relegated to the midnight timeslot, and even though all her friends listen to it she probably got into a spat with them for saying something along the lines of "obviously i dont care if its just YOU listening to it, remus!!!". she hate-listens to barty's show which she considers (lily voice) An Affront To Collegiate Journalism

they trade barbs at every function and absolutely nobody but the two of them takes their insane imaginary Radio Beef even remotely serious whatsoever. but it's dead serious TO THEM!!! lily is probably camping out in actual bushes with actual binoculars to sabotage his show, and the worst part is that it's actually working. she ISN'T obsessed with him (shut up!!!!!), and barty is mostly just aggravated on principle that the Uptight Lowerclassman Ruining His Life has such nice legs.

and they absolutely bone like crazy about it

[odusseus-xvi]

Hello helloooo friend! Hi! I just wanted to say that I'll be going around and asking people about QSMP characters to avoid mischaracterization of said characters (in analysis, fics, and just overall fan interpretations). So if you're cool with it, can I ask you about the French streamers?

Like, can you tell me the mischaracterization you often see regarding their characters and how they actually are? I mean, ANY facts about them would be very very cool to know! I love all of them and I would really like to know more about them since I can't really watch everyone, ya kno?

Yes I would love to :D ! But also, keep in mind, I'm not immune to a bit of mischaracterization (that's how you write that right ?), sometimes I probably do a little bit, though I try my best not to. I have to admit, I don't see a lot, or just little things, and mostly from the english side of the community, cause over here with the french we are a really small part of the overall fandom, so I don't have a lot of interactions, AND it's our first (ever) smp like that (semi rp etc...), we never had that over here in France, it's a new thing both for us and the ccs, so we are getting our footing. But here we go I do have some things I can say : (wrote a fricking novel holy)

q!Baghera Jones : I see a lot of people characterize her as this hyper competent investigator that knows everything etc... In a way she is, she is a good investigator, and is always eager to solve the mysteries of the island ; What people miss most of the time is that she is also (it's not mutually exclusive) a Goofball : She sings randomly, she walks on mines and jumps off buildings willingly for the lols, some people say she witholds information, most of the time she actually just Forgor. Something that people do get most of the time is that she genuinely is really empathetic : She loves Walter Bob, two days ago she talked about how Cucurucho may be manipulated, she is worried about Quackity, about Cellbit, Foolish, Jaiden etc... And outside of petty rivalry (mostly with Forever, BBH, Etoiles, and a bit Cellbit) she is not a vengeful person at all. She is very understanding. Oh and almost forgot : She is surprisingly insightful ; She guessed what was happening to Cellbit as one of the firsts, she immediatly figured Gegg out the first day she met Slime, ElQuackity is VERY obviously another person than Quackity at first glance etc...

q!Etoiles : There was for some time a bit of mischaracterization in the way people saw him as a bloodthirsty killing machine, though it is fading steadily as we speak ; He is a really nice person that lifts up others, gift them things whenever he can, cares about the eggs, and is always reactive when it comes to saving or helping others. Also, he is a badass in the eyes of everyone (ccs and fandom) but people have a way to write that in fics that doesn't really match him : They write a badass and dark character that is mostly silent and cool ; Etoiles is NOT that (he is badass yes but not much the rest), he SAYS he is that, that he is "dark, and broody, and mysterious", but the guy is always cracking jokes, about others, about himself, he is very self-aware of his problems (social and health related) and likes to joke about it because "it puts smiles on the faces of people" (his way of cheering people up most of the time : "You are not useless, you put smiles on my and the people's faces, and that wonderful"). The moments that CAN be a bit dark is when he is asking for a fight ; most of the time it's goofy, but then there is moments like the dinner party when the codes revealed themselves, where he will be saying while everyone panics "Yeah... Yeah.. FINALLY ! FINALLY !!" and you realise he is not to be trifled with. He aslo tends to blame himself when something wrong happens ; to him, HE is the one that misplayed, that made a mistake.

q!Aypierre : Some people could see him as a relatively chill dude ; he talks calmly, never screams and very rarely raises his voice, but he is NOT chill : He is the most gremlin of the french, his favorite past-time in all the smps he's been in is pranking and breaking the servers : Two days ago in his 24 hour stream, he broke in the federation base three times, exploded a bunch of stuff in there, tortured Foolish alongside BBH, summoned lightning to make Foosh and BBH believe Gegg is still alive in front of his infinite Gegg generator, rickrolled Cucurucho etc... He is a every ingenuous guy with ways to build factories of everything. Most people, out of the french, would fear Etoiles because he is always begging for a fight, and fought and won against the code several times, but he is a nice guy, who they probably SHOULD fear, is Aypierre, this guy can be EVIL at times ; He loves contracts and deals, and using those against the others. He is not all evil though. He does care about Pomme, the french, and is willing to help others when they need him, though he likes to make exchanges.

q!Antoine Daniel : Antoine is probably the hardest to write or get when you are not used to him. He has such a way of speaking and a weird twisted humor that to someone not french, and not watching his streams regularly, it's REAL hard to get him right. He is an apreciator of dark humor and cynicism ; Joking about Bobby in front of Pomme is an example, though he is starting to be more compassionate about the eggs than he was at the beginning of his journey on the smp. Probably because of one of my posts and some others, a lot of people see him as incredibly paranoïd, and for a time he was, though he said himself (both in and out of character) that it was starting to get better because people came talked to him about it, there IS still remains though. What's interesting is that he can be both paranoïd, AND incredibly insightful : His takes are either the rambling of a madman, or scarily on point. Though he is rarely willing to help others (both because of his next to level 0 skills in minecraft and general air of "I don't care"), he is always on alarm and willing to help when it comes to the eggs, multiple times he ironically is one of the most reactive ones when it comes to realise there is danger or a problem for the eggs ; Though he is relatively self-centered, he is very compassionate and attentive of the eggs, with Pomme potentially being the person he trusts most. (everytime he acts aloof and cynical on his stream, to then immediatly worry about Pomme's well-being warms my heart.)

q!Kamet0 : AHAHAHAHAH ahAHaHhah, ahahah... ahah.. ah. oh. (he left for cigarretes)

(HOLY SHIT I WROTE A NOVEL. Sorry, didn't excpect to have that much to say. But here you go, hope that helps.)

[captainjacklyn]

dorm leaders when they realized they are in love with g/n!reader please

I'm so sorry for answering this ask so late, I hope you enjoy it as much as I loved making it !

Pairing(s) : riddle roseheart x reader, Leona Kingscholar x reader, azul ashengrotto x reader, kalim al-asim x reader, vil schoenheit x reader, Idia Shroud x reader, malleus draconia x reader

warning(s) : I don't think there is anything too angsty or scary, just fluff ! The reader is gender neutral and mostly addressed as 'you'

Dorm leaders realizing they are in love :

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle would be in denial about loving you, not because he doesn't want to but because his mother always said that love was a distraction to the rode of success.

No wonder her husband hates her

As much as he found the idea exasperating, rules were meant to be followed so Riddle would push away any personal feelings aside to concentrate on what was 'more important'.

He tried to do so ever since he met you.

He brushes his crush off as platonic to avoid getting distracted by these foreign feelings. You're just a friend he thought to himself, Just a friend and nothing more.

However, it's impossible to not notice the occasional blush that adorn the red head's cheeks whenever he's around you.

The way he stutters when talking to you despite being normally composed with others.

Riddle will also want to spend more time with you, what's better than a nice study session ? If you aren't the brightest, it's ok. He'll still propose to study with you even if you are the best.

In comparison to how he tutors his fellow dorm members, Riddle will actually be a little more strict. He wants you to surpass yourself and he wants to be the one to help you achieve that.

Gets flustered when you get too close to him, will jump a little if you surprise him at a time where he leasts expects it. It stops being funny the moment he yells : "OFF WITH YOUR-"

Trey will quickly realize his dorm leader's fondness for you and will try to talk to him about it. He also tells Riddle to confess at some point because it's possible to never get a chance like this again.

Leona Kingscholar

Leona...I don't know much about how he would react.

The entire thing is quite complicated, he acts as if he doesn't like you but not in a way that tsunderes do. Leona is chill and treats you like he would with others but with more affection and favoritism.

Smooth talker. B*tch knows what he's doing and if you don't pick up on the signals, he's kissing you and waiting for a reaction to come out.

WILL act softer around you, he's not denying it either. "I like the herbivore and so what ? You gonna cry about it ?" Ruggie really envies you, you don't need to deal with as much stress as him...fucker-

He is a lovable *sshole and I'm not taking that back, he'll chuckle when you say you hate him cause he can get annoying. But in his mind I imagine him panicking like :

Wait seriously ? I mean, I hate myself too but really ?

His ears perk up at the mention of your name, very possessive and very jealous but he trusts you wouldn't try to date his sworn enemy.

After all, who doesn't want him ?

Everyone.

Although he acts prideful and confident he does have his doubts about you as well as if his feelings are reciprocated. Brushes it off like its nothing but someone out there is gonna notice that the dorm leader is ticked off.

He'll invite you to nap with him cause a human body pillow isn't all that bad to be honest, lunch at the botanical garden are a must as well.

Won't care of you're late to class, he's keeping you with him wether you like it or not.

Azul Ashengrotto

B*TCH- trynna act cool and composed when he just spits out ink the moment y'all get too close. He cries about it in his octopus pot and says he'll never crawl out of it again only to come back and make a contract with you to get married I mean- go on a date.

That is totally what I meant....He scribbled 'forever' on it though.

Cute octopus, very shy, won't admit it.

He invites you to Mostro Lounge often, wether you wish to come or not is your choice but just know one of the leech brothers is dragging your ass back there.

He only trusts jade with this task because Floyd will not hesitate to tell you his dorm leader is madly in love with you.

One compliment is enough for him to try and impress you by being almost full of himself. He stutters a lot, it's adorable, you can tease him about it but don't go too hard cause the ink projectile is still an option.

"Why hello there [Name], I was wondering if you could work at the Mostro Lounge ? I promise I can give you a generous pay~" "Actually, your heart is all I need to be repaid but thank you for the kind offer."

Jaws dropped, face flushed, glasses foggy, the heart you wanted exploded and Floyd wheezing on the floor.

Azul rn :

Kalim Al-Asim

Sunshine, so obvious, so adorably stupid he can't even realize you know.

He is a very generous person in general so expect a lot of gifts and plenty of attention directed towards you.

Always celebrates your presence with a party the moment you enter in the scarabia dorms. Jamil is pretty much begging you to invite him instead of coming, because he can only cook and handle so much.

If you're more of a flirtatious type, he will get flustered but not as badly as Azul. Just very bashful and proceeds to laugh it off to calm his beating heart.

"[Name] ! [Name] ! [Name] ! How about we hop over to the dorms ? I'm organizing another party and I think you should come too :D !"

He loves to say your name, he can repeat it every day non stop until Viper drags you back to make him shut up since no one had a second of sleep.

It's been three days, he doesn't wanna listen. (rather he can't listen cause your face is clouding his entire mind)

"Oh ! [Name] ! Wanna head to the light music club with me ? I wanna show you a brand new song we've been practicing !"

He spends most of his time with you and will insist you join him in a lot of activities, of course if you don't want to then that's ok as well !

if you want anything special to eat at lunch he'll buy it for you ! Money isn't exactly a problem for this prince.

He isn't all that flustered when he confesses to you, if you reject him he'll be sad but will understand. He will stay your friend though, poor cinnamon roll doesn't want to ruin your friendship.

Vil Schoenheit

Confident and unbothered by the whole situation, you can't even tell wether he likes you or he's constantly trying to insult you.

It may seem strange, but I feel like vil wouldn't necessarily care when it comes to appearances. he just wants the one he falls for to at least take care of their complexion. He wouldn't love someone with no hygiene that's for sure.

Pays extra attention to you, even Rook could be jealous if he was capable of it. Oh and speaking of the hunter :

Get ready to have rook in your shoes for the rest of your life because if he follows vil around then he'll chase you around, bye bye privacy.

Potato this. Potato that. "Your posture should be better." "You need to fix your hair." "You have something on your face." "DID YOU NOT USE THE SKIN CARE I GAVE YOU- ?!"

He doesn't go soft, its the complete opposite for this guy. Vil really tries to bring out the best out of you but he can sometimes become overbearing.

If you lack self esteem, I'm sure he won't hesitate to show you just how beautiful you are.

*Pulls out mirror from nonexistent pocket* YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL

He balances his time by your side though, cameras are all around when a famous model attends one of the best schools. Rumors will start to spark and it's gonna be a little hard to ignore those. But he'll protect you from them and just deny the ones who talk bad about you.

You bet he's gonna confess to you when the moon is out. He's just smooth like that.

Idia Shroud

Denial is a river in Egypt-

"No, I don't like anyone love is for idiots that have a social life." "Are you sure about that ?" "AAAAAAAAAAAAAH-"

He is Meg in Hades form, it's ok to be in love blue haired man. You have a crush on someone blue haired man and it's not the end of the world.

He will avoid you, a lot.

If you managed to become friends before he fell for you it will be even more awkward, he wants to continue playing games with you but it's different now. He's scared he'll embarrass himself in front of you and it wasn't like that before. Ortho is the only one pushing him to talk to you, but how can he even look at you without turning into a fireball ?!

Whenever you manage to have small talk he just immediately switches to his tablet to hide his gorgeous face behind. Flirt with him and it'll be the end of it.

The ends of his hair become pink and he heats up like crazy, you'll kill him one day you know that !

The more extroverted you are the harder its gonna be for him and even worse if you like to flirt for fun because HOLY MOTHER OF THE HEAVENLY GODS STOP LOOKING AT HIM LIKE THAT-

Is this joke getting old ? Because I still think he is a ticking nuclear bomb that is triggered by strong emotions such as confusion.

God that would explode so easily.

Malleus Draconia

Malleus. Dragon boy. Precious. Just how rich are you-

I'm sure a lot of people have said this already but of course Malleus does not know how humans court other humans.

So he brings you diamonds rubies and other precious stones (necklaces and bracelets too actually) to show how much he fancies you.

Wether you refuse them or accept them is your choice but he gets really pouty when you don't keep it.

Malleus is a little confused, he doesn't understand why you don't comprehend the reason for his actions.

Lilia will probably pop out of nowhere before you meet Malleus again to tell you the meaning behind the expensive gifts.

Just so you know, Dragons are a specie that mate for life, and he chose you to be his partner forever.

"Do you wish to go on a stroll with me, Child of Man ? You would make me a very happy fae if you would ever so kindly accept."

Night walks are very frequent, you can notice the green fireflies peacefully floating around you. It's such a wonderful sight, but the only beautiful view he looks at is you.

"The moon is quite beautiful tonight isn't it ?"

“The moon is beautiful, isn't it?” is a phrase that means you're telling that person that you love them without actually telling them you love them.

Either you're dense or you just rejected him the moment you respond with a yes and looks at you expectantly but nothing happens.

Not a kiss ?

No ?

....

thank you for reading and lasagna-