#ngl I kind of want to turn this idea into a fic

[ailendolin]

"He waited and waited. But she never came."

I always thought this line was about Thomas's dying moments but what if there's more to it?

Thomas, very noticably, barely moves after he dies. He lifts his head to look at the others but that's pretty much it. His reaction, of course, could be the result of shock - the pain from his wound, the realisation that he's dead and ghosts are real and he's one of them, and the pain of Isabelle's absence are quite a lot to deal with, after all - but I wonder if perhaps Kitty's words imply that Thomas stayed under that tree even after he died. At that point he still believed Francis was going to fetch Isabelle so why wouldn't he continue to wait for her?

So imagine him sitting under that tree next to his body, gazing towards the house with hopeful eyes. Imagine the minutes ticking by, turning into an hour. Imagine the other ghosts urging him to come inside and when he doesn't, leaving him there. Imagine the flare of hope inside his chest when someone finally comes, and the disappointment when he realises that it's only the servants. Imagine him watching them carry his body away and hearing them call him a fool. Imagine him staying behind, still waiting, still hoping for Isabelle to come. Imagine the sun setting and night falling and it dawning on him that she won't. Imagine him getting to his feet after all these hours and finding his way to Robin's nook because he can't bear to go into the house and face Isabelle there. Imagine him curling up on the bench and waiting for the sun to rise. Imagine him returning to the tree the moment it does on the off chance that Isabelle might want to say goodbye to him after all.

Imagine him waiting and waiting.

[pomefioredove]

Ngl I want a sequel to bad ending 'yuu gets sold' series

Cause imagine the boys go to NBC just to find out that yuu is actuality doing great, better than great, even better than the time they were doing in NRC

I like to think that Rollo is legitimate a nice person when you remove the hatred over magic type of stuff

He deffo makes sure that yuu is well fed and clean (let's be honest, not something that yuu always has in NRC) plus treat yuu greatly

rollo fans who are starving since everyone stopped talking about him after november I'm here for you. I see you. take my hand

parts 1 | 2 | 3 | kalim | 'bad' ending

summary: yuu transfers to NBC type of post: fic characters: rollo my beloved additional info: yuu is gender neutral, implied romantic ^_^

It had been a long six months for everyone at Night Raven College.

The departure- and subsequent absence- of their beloved Ramshackle prefect was very much felt.

Days were longer, nights were darker, the first year class itself felt empty.

"At least they're not dead," was the consensus.

Of course, you continued to communicate with your friends- it wasn't like you completely dropped off the map, although Noble Bell College had a stricter policy about phone usage.

You even sent some letters back and forth, yours filled with updates and mementos, theirs with pictures of all you'd left behind.

Did you miss NRC?

Well...

You missed your friends.

But Crowley? The overblots? Being everyone's personal therapist?

...Yeah. You could live without that.

Noble Bell College may have been more exclusive, and more strict in their code of conduct, but it was more peaceful, too. Smaller, less students, and much less reliance on magic, so that you and Grim could be whole students independent of one another.

The curriculum was much different than NRC's. Less of an emphasis on a personal connection to magic, and more on tradition, ritual, and history. There were few times when you'd have to sit out a class, or watch your friends have fun from the sidelines.

If anything, Rollo made a point of including you.

A part of it may have been personal pride- after all, he just couldn't resist showing you how much better he is.

But he also had a vague idea about how stressful your life at NRC really was, and how isolated you felt, despite being surrounded by people. It was his duty, in a sense, to rectify that.

Even if it meant you had to sit through his lectures and recitations of the traditional magic laws.

...Though, even with his intense adherence to tradition and structure, he made quite a show of being kind to you.

Despite his best efforts to claim fairness and righteousness, it was no secret to anyone that he favored you. You quickly became the only person he spent his free time with (not that he was particularly social in the first place...)

And... it was nice. Is nice.

He holds himself to high standards, and expects that of others; he's cold, harsh when he feels it necessary, and repressed in all ways imaginable.

And yet... well, there's no sabotage, no swindling, no scamming, no manipulation to make petty ends meet.

Rollo, as a person, is both confusingly complex and reassuringly simple. You know as much. He sticks to routine, to rules, to tradition. He's diligent in every sense of the word, and highly respected because of it.

And when the eyes of the other students are turned away, he treats you with a sort of gentleness that you'd become wholly unfamiliar with at NRC. Like a porcelain doll, like something precious he desires to wrap in cotton and silk and store somewhere safe.

You wonder if his behavior towards you is at all connected to the very reason he risked his status bringing you here in the first place... but you don't dwell too long. He's as mysterious as anything.

When your former classmates come to visit over break, it's like they're meeting an entirely different person.

"Happy to see us, eh? You're like, glowing," Ace smirks.

Deuce elbows him in the ribs for that comment. "What he meant is that you look great. I mean, really! You've been sleeping more?"

You nod. "Lots, yeah,"

"Weird, I woulda guessed they'd been working you to the bone. This place is all "no funny business", right?" Ace shakes his head.

You laugh, walking alongside your former fellow first years in the streets of Fleur City, the very ones you'd become so accustomed to in recent months.

"I've actually been doing well with my studies. I think I've finally decided what I want to do after graduation,"

"Oh, that's great!" Deuce says. A lengthy pause follows, much to your confusion- it's as if everyone has something they want to say, but won't be the first to say it.

Epel clears his throat. "You been 'doin alright?"

"Um... yeah. I have,"

"Cause... you know, if anyone was giving you trouble, we'd give 'em what for!"

You chuckle. "I'm fine, really. People here are pretty nice..."

Again, that same silence follows. Epel, Deuce, and Ace look between each other, as if daring the other to say the next thing.

This time, you take the initiative.

"Listen. If this is about Rollo, he's fine. I'm fine. He's been nothing but helpful,"

The tense silence breaks and Ace sighs, shaking his head. "You can't blame us for being worried,"

"I mean, this whole situation has been really shady. Everyone at NRC has been worried sick..." Deuce says. "We just wanted to make sure..."

You smile. "I appreciate it, but you really don't have to send in a rescue party. I've been... I've been really good. Happy. And I miss you guys to pieces, but I've felt closer to home here than anywhere else. Does that sound strange?"

A short pause follows. Deuce is the first to speak, his voice sounding strained. "Not at all. We just want you to be happy,"

You can tell he's trying really hard to sound positive. Epel, on the other hand, doesn't sugarcoat anything.

"You really won't come back with us?"

You smile again, though this one is wholly apologetic. "No, I don't think so,"

The three are quiet for another moment, and then seem to drop the subject. The rest of their stay goes by smoothly, even with all the strained moments where you can tell they have something to ask. You assume they've already figured out the answer.

The day trip is over by sundown and you return to campus just before curfew, taking a seat in one of the cozy (though currently empty) lounges by a familiar face.

"They're gone?" Rollo asks, not bothering to look up from the textbook he's perusing.

You watch him carefully, and think it's best not to mention you friend's attempt to bring you back with them.

"Yes, they're gone. We had fun, nothing happened,"

"Good," he says. A brief silence follows before he speaks again. "I do trust you. But-"

"You don't trust them. I understand. If I were you, I suppose I wouldn't, either. But I'm fine,"

"When are they coming back?"

"Two months. They're taking the weekend. Might bring some other people,"

Rollo hums a note of acknowledgment, fingers rolling around the pen in his right hand. The book is still open, though he's looking ahead now. His face is flushed.

You know he's unhappy with it, but he won't say anything. You're grateful he likes you enough to let you rub elbows with people he despises. Especially after all that's happened...

He stands, closing the book. "Very well. Let me know what day so that I may adequately prepare myself. Good night. Be safe,"

And with that, he takes his leave.

Ever distant. Ever polite. One might mistake the way he speaks for coldness or resentment if you weren't so familiar with his mannerisms by now.

You turn to look into the lounge fireplace behind you, watching the flames flicker and die until all that remains are soft, glowing embers, the same shade of red that burns on his cheeks when you look at him.

[bunniekittiee]

Hi! Hi! Sorry for asking, mind if I ask if you are open request for the hc or fic? Since I have a brilliant idea, about Bi-han and bi-han s/o.

"They fell first, they fell harder but he never fell. He fell too late until he realized he's late for apologize."

I’ll answer this in headcanons and a little drabble just because I’ve been cranking out fics like crazy so I need something else to switch it up. This is kind of long ngl but I couldn't help it. Might have some spelling errors.

Reader gets referred to as a woman and such, so fem. reader.

Bi-Han x Reader; Raiden x Reader

If you are married to Bi-Han for your clans sake, he sees your marriage as a business ordeal.

To him, he is not romantically interested because he only married you for clan purposes. He does not love you.

That is the sad truth and truly it bothers you.

A marriage was supposed to be based around love and support, not business.

However Bi-Han saw it differently.

There is not many interactions between you two. He stays away and you stay out of his way.

You eat dinner together but there is not much conversation. Sometimes he will talk about certain events, but he will never really ask about your day.

If he does, he is just curious to know what you have done while he’s been tending to his duties.

There is nothing special about the bed time routine.

He will stay on his side of the bed and sleep with his back turned to you.

The nights can feel really lonely and make you really sad.

Sometimes he will lower the temperature of the bed so it doesn’t get too hot.

To keep you somewhat comfortable.

But what you truly crave is the touch of the man you married.

Although Bi-Han is standoffish and not exactly the most welcoming, you have still fallen in love with him.

Every imperfection of Bi-Han is just an extra part of him to love.

He sees it in your eyes when he catches your gaze, and honestly it strokes his big ass ego that you are in love with him.

He cannot say the same for you, though. :(

You like to do special things for him to get his attention and appreciation.

Such as cooking his favorite meals, preparing his uniforms, even going as far as stitching together his ruined ones.

He appreciates it, he may not exactly show it but he does, however he feels that you are simply doing this to make him love you.

So it can kind of annoy him.

You try to show him some sorts of affection, but Bi-Han will only really allow kisses. He will reject hugs often.

It hurts but at least you can still show him some affection.

Kuai Liang and Tomas both see how much you love Bi-Han, but they see that look in their brother’s eyes.

Void of any infatuation of you, let alone romance.

They will comfort you when you feel unloved and uncared for.

Tomas wishes the circumstances were different for you, but he tells you that maybe one day Bi-Han will realize that he does love you.

Kuai Liang shoots him a look that says ‘don’t give her hope’.

They don’t want you to be hurt or to hold onto Bi-Han in hopes of him returning the same feelings.

Kuai Liang and Tomas took you out to eat dinner at Madame Bo's which is where you met some of their friends. It was Johnny, Raiden, Kung Lao, and Kenshi.

They were interested in you as you were a new face, and Kuai Liang introduced you as the Grandmaster's wife. Johnny thinks that you are too stunning for grouchy old Bi-Han.

"You are married to Bi-Han?" Johnny asks in almost complete shock. "I didn't even know he was married. How did he get so lucky with a pretty woman like you?"

Blushing at his words, you just smile. Kung Lao rolls his eyes. "Stop flirting with the Grandmaster's wife, otherwise your head will end up on a ice pick."

"It will all be worth it in the end." Johnny replies with a small wink at you. Kenshi chuckles quietly.

Kuai Liang notices how Raiden looks at you, his mouth slightly agape at your beautiful form. He thinks it is a little funny but also sweet. He almost wished Bi-Han would do the same for you. He sees Raiden's eyes travel down to take you in completely, wearing blue and black to match Bi-Han's uniforms. Matching with Bi-Han who hardly ever took you out.

Tomas is a little oblivious to it, he doesn't see it at first until Kuai Liang points it out. You and Raiden strike up a conversation, and the Thunder God is fumbling over his words. He has a serious blush on his cheeks, and Kung Lao almost feels bad for the inexperienced Raiden. You, however, think it's very cute. You relish in the attention he gives you because Bi-Han hardly ever paid any mind to you. It makes you feel good, it makes you feel wanted.

There is some guilt that gnaws at you though. Almost as if you are doing something bad behind Bi-Han's back, but his siblings were sitting a couple feet away from you, so it wasn't bad right? By the end of the night, Raiden has fallen head over heels for your kind, compassionate personality. Just like Johnny, he wondered what Bi-Han did to deserve such a sweetheart like you. He feels disappointed when it is time for you to leave with the brothers. The moment you leave, everyone is grilling him.

"You made it super obvious that you are interested, Raiden." Kenshi states humorously. "I could hear your heart race from here."

Raiden internally groans. "Was it really that obvious?"

"Totally Thunder Lad. But she was enjoying the attention." Johnny grinned mischeviously. "I don't think Bi-Han is exactly taking care of her."

"It's Bi-Han, he probably treats his wife like she's a warrior." Kung Lao said as he took a sip of his tea.

You are on Raiden's mind at every possible moment after he first meets you. He seriously could not wait to see you again even though he felt like it was wrong. You were married to another man, but you were too good for him.

Kuai Liang and Tomas discuss that night in their chambers about how Raiden was acting.

They honestly think it was cute to see you both interacting with each other. they thought of puppy love when they saw you together.

But they knew it was good to be wary because of Bi-Han. He may not have loved you, but you were still his wife.

Bi-Han asks you how your night was with his brothers. He sees that dazed look in your eyes and wonders what happened.

You just tell him you met their friends. Bi-Han just nods his head and tells you that he is glad that you had a good time. But he is wondering why you seem much more giddier.

It feels so wrong, but you continue to think about Raiden. When you make dinners for Bi-Han or do little tasks, you pretend that you are doing them for Raiden.

To get the look of approval and love that Bi-Han never shared with you.

Kuai and Tomas wonder if it is better to have you separate from Bi-Han. Although the word of divorce would not be a good look, it is better than possibly committing adultery.

Then they wonder if Bi-Han will willingly let you go.

They try to bring it up to him in different ways and Bi-Han never really catches on.

Until one day, Kuai Liang brings it up outright and Bi-Han is a little taken aback.

But Bi-Han thinks about it. Although he shared a life with you, you were not exactly in it.

Impulsively, he decides. Might as well break it off now, and he negotiates another deal with your old clan.

When he broke the news, you felt your heart break. Even though you were starting to think about Raiden, your heart was still with Bi-Han.

Kuai and Tomas felt horrible when they saw how awful you felt, but they knew it would work out for you in the end. It was better this way, they were convinced.

You moved back with your clan, and you thought that Kuai and Tomas would stop taking you out, but they did not. They still kept in touch with you often. They never brought up Bi-Han or talked about him out of respect for you.

The other Earthrealmers heard about your split from Bi-Han and they knew it would not last too long.

Raiden felt liable for your divorce, but part of him was joyous. Without Bi-Han in the picture, he had a chance.

Kuai and Tomas took you out again to Madame Bo's when you felt like you were ready.

Raiden is in awe of how free and wonderful you look. It was as if you had gotten more stunning after your relationship with Bi-Han ended.

Seeing Raiden makes your heart flutter and you immediately sit by him.

Johnny makes a comment about how the Lin Kuei colors were not fitting for you and you laugh.

Raiden feels himself start to get flustered when you two interact. You both are much more handsy but in innocent ways.

Kung Lao cannot help that stupid grin on his face and he gives Raiden a look. Raiden rolls his eyes.

As the night continues, you and Raiden are in your own world.

When it is time to leave, Raiden walks you home. You get the courage to tell him that you are interested in him, but you feel that it is too soon to get into another relationship.

He completely understands, and he takes your hands and tells you that he would wait an eternity to be with such a wonderful woman like you.

You become flustered and both say goodbye. He cannot help but smile like a madman when he is walking back.

When it is time, Raiden is so thrilled. He feels honored to be with someone similar to him.

Your heart swells with love when you see Raiden. He makes you feel much more appreciated and adored than Bi-Han had ever done.

Kuai and Tomas congratulate you both on your new relationship. They are happy for you, and it is good to see you in a happy, equal relationship.

However, Bi-Han was troubled. He did not notice it at first, and it did not hit him right away until more time passed. His chambers were empty, there were no more warm meals from you, he had to be treated in med bay for his wounds instead of you taking care of him, his uniforms were never patched up, he never got to wake up to you next to him. The Arctika felt lonely without your presence. He ate dinner with his brothers, but the empty spot next to him made him long for you.

He did not realize how much of a difference you made in his life. With your sweet kisses that you pressed to his face or his lips or the loving gaze you had when you crossed paths with him.

His moods faltered. He really started to miss you, and his brothers could see that he was struggling. They felt culpable because they convinced him to divorce, but it was for your own good. Deep down, they both knew you deserved better than Bi-Han. And you did get better, you had Raiden.

The brothers were able to convince Bi-Han to go out for dinner. Just the three of them. Bi-Han surprisingly agreed, but he still felt melancholy. It upset him that his wife could not go with them. So he was in a sour mood when they arrived.

Raiden always took you out no matter what, he loved being with you and showing you off. His friends were overjoyed that you both were a couple now. Kung Lao always teased you both. But truly, they were happy.

Sitting at the table with the men, your eyes were met with cold, hurting brown eyes. Your breath slightly hitched as Bi-Han watched Raiden's arm snake around your waist while he was talking. His eyes narrowed and his face was screwed up in displeasure. Seeing Raiden touch you in intimate ways made Bi-Han clench his jaw as he furiously watched as Raiden held your hand with his free one. It should have been Bi-Han holding you. It should have been him next to you. You should have been with him tonight, not Raiden.

But Bi-Han saw how happy you looked with him. He saw you show emotions that he never saw from you when you were with him. It made him regretful. He should have been better with you.

He turned his eyes away from you and stared at the table. Tomas and Kuai Liang both felt the miserable energy radiating from Bi-Han. He was too late to change things. You were happy with someone else. And that was final. He could not change a thing about it. Although he badly wanted to grab you and take you back to the Arctika, he could not bring himself to move. You were not his.

[motherlvr]

hi:D can you do miles!42 with a reader who doesn't really like getting told "watch who ur talking to" or smth bc most fics abt miles!42 is like that and nooo i won't ever let a man say that to me😭 and they like, know how to defend themself so they're pretty independent if thats alr ofc!

ngl i loved writing this, tysm for the req!

wc: 2.1k

pairing: E-42 Miles Morales x Strong, Independent! f! reader

warnings: enemies to lovers, kind of rivalry tbh, cursing, Miles is mean in this one, but gets character development, reader knows how to fight, baddie ong, reader doesn't take miles' bs

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

"You gotta be shitting me." Mumbling under your breath, your eye involuntarily twitched. You glared at Miles like it was his fault for putting you in this situation.

Your glare was reciprocated as he said, "I ain't happy about it either, princesa." You hated when he called you that. It rolled off his tongue with such distaste. "Yeah? Glad we got that in common then." You snipped, irritated.

Miles Gonzalo Morales was a dick. To put it kindly.

He was a stuck-up, close-minded dick. It's like his sole purpose in life was to irk you. The two of you have never been on good terms. He tested your patience every waking moment.

But unfortunately for both of you, your Spanish teacher paired you up as partners for a major project. It would count for a good portion of your grade, so not doing it wasn't an option for you. You had less than two weeks to finish the project, and you weren't going to waste it.

You'd much prefer to do the project alone. One thing you've learned is: if you want something done correctly, do it yourself. And to never put it solely in the hands of a man. But the project was a requirement for the class, so you had no place to argue about it.

Thankfully, today was just a planning day. So it wouldn't be as painful, you hoped.

You showed him a plan you had thought about within only a few minutes and asked, "Thoughts?" He took a short glance at it and told you, "That's trash." A vein almost popped out of your head. You snapped, "You got any better ideas then?"

"Yea, anythin' other than that." He told you mindlessly. You had half a mind to make his braided head become real familiar with the cold surface of his desk. Around ten minutes later, he had finally come up with something. It wasn't that great, but at least he was semi-cooperative. You took one look at his plan and decided to turn the tables on him. You said, "You couldn't have come up with anything better? Shit's worse than my idea."

You could see him grip his pencil just a bit tighter, no doubt irritated by now. "Nah, watch your mouth." He told you, and you were unsure of how serious he was being. "Watch my mouth? You needa watch how when you turn around, one of your precious braids will be gone." You said as you made a snipping motion with your fingers. He protectively grabbed onto his braids, "Yo chill, ma."

As Spanish class progressed, everything only went downhill from there. He always seemed to hate every idea you had or had something to say. He groaned, "Woman, I swear. Your ideas are shit." Your former hopes of a peaceful partnership were long gone.

His choice of words alone irked you as you replied, "See, that's what you're not gonna call me. And if we're gonna be partners, you need to act decent for once. Get it together, Morales." You set clear boundaries as you pointed a finger at him. Surprisingly, he obliged. He looked like he made a revelation as he shook his head. "Nah, you right. That was outta line." The moment was oddly tranquil until he opened his mouth again. "I meant: I swear, your ideas are fucking terrible."

From that point further, the hopes of having a normal, mature, conversation were fleeting. The majority of the class was spent bickering rather than working on the task at hand.

You were one of the very few people that tested him. You gave him a challenge, while most people wouldn't utter a single complaint.

Eventually, at the end of the class, the two of you finally landed on an idea to carry out. A true miracle.

The next week in Spanish class passed and the days were cutting it closer and closer to the deadline. But there was still much work to be done. So, begrudgingly, you both had to work on it out of school. After Spanish, you were packing up your things when you asked him, "My place or yours?" His response was immediate. "My place. I'll give you my address. Come over after school, 'ight?" He said, writing down his address and handing it to you.

You accepted it and said, "Alright. Are your parents good with me coming over?" You questioned if he even had the decency to check first. Although you couldn't stand him most of the time, you didn't want to intrude on his family. He shrugged it off, "Yeah my ma's good with it. Already told her."

He wasn't about to tell you that his mother demanded the project was done at his house so she could keep a keen eye on the both of you.

You were dreading the final bell of the day. Spending more time than legally required with Miles wasn't your ideal image of fun. As the school day ended, you walked over to Miles' house.

Knocking on the door, it was soon opened by no one other than Miles' mother. She was expecting you, as a smile adorned her face. You greeted her, "¡Hola, Señora Morales! Gracias por invitarme a tu casa." (Hi, Mrs. Morales! Thank you for inviting me to your house.)

She widened her eyes at you, "¡Claro! ¿Cómo estás?" (of course, how are you?) She asked you with a sweet smile. You replied and reciprocated a smile, "Bien, ¿usted?" (good, you?) To which she responded, "Muy bien, gracias." (very good, thank you) As you put down your things, you noticed Miles was standing only a few feet away. His mother pulled Miles to the side and whispered, "She speaks Spanish, I like her." Not wanting to give away that she was a loud whisperer, you concealed a small laugh. It's a wonder how Miles turned out like that. His mother's wonderful. You knew she raised him better.

After his mother was done speaking to him, Miles led you to his room. His mother called out, "¡Deja la puerta abierta!" (leave the door open!) "Si, mami." He said back in an unusually nice tone.

You previously believed Miles Morales was a universal dick. But you soon realized you were somewhat wrong. He was a dick. To everyone except his mother, it seemed.

As you both settled down to start working on the project, you grinned at him like you had just found out a Federal-level secret. "You're such a momma's boy." You said.

His head whipped to you like you knew something you shouldn't. "No one would believe you." He said. You teased, "Oh, everyone would. Trust."

This was the most civil conversation the both of you have ever held within your whole history of knowing Miles. The afternoon was sprinkled with light-hearted jokes here and there, and it wasn't as painful as you initially believed. Needless to say, being forcibly confined in a space with Miles went much smoother than you could've ever anticipated. The project was progressing for once. And so was your relationship with Miles.

A few days later, you were in a better mood than regular. Within the past few days, Miles has been more tolerable. Maybe even likable. Apparently, you were in too good of a mood. You must've appeared too approachable today.

As you were walking in the hallways of school to your next class, a guy you didn't recognize slung an arm around your shoulders and said, "Hey, what's good jit?" You immediately pushed his arm off. He reeked of an excessive usage of cologne. You winced at his stench. "Don't call me that." You assertively said. But he only took it as a challenge. He said with a wink, "You tryna play hard to get? Alright, I'll play along."

"I'm not 'playing hard to get'," You mocked with air quotations. Dumbing it down, you continued, "I don't want you." Could a girl make it any more obvious?

Your words went straight over his oversized head. He said with a disgusting smirk, "I can change your mind." Your face visibly grimaced at his desperate attempt, "Not even baby Jesus could change my mind."

He was starting to get agitated at this point, "Nah, why you trippin', girl?" he said. You immediately retorted, "Why can't you take a damn hint?"

"C'mon, I know you want me. Gimme a chance." He said. You were sick and tired of this interaction, so you just decided to walk away. Turning your back, you tried to escape this conversation. But he grabbed your hand to prevent you from leaving. "Aye, where you goin'?"

You tried to be patient. And where did patience get you? Nowhere. In your mind, this guy was way too testosterone-deficient to be talking tough to you. There was nothing worse than a teenage boy. More importantly, a boy that didn't know what 'no' means.

And in an instant, the sound of a slap resounded throughout the hallway.

He looked like he was about to start crying. Holding his cheek in pain, he sneered, "Fuck you, bitch. You ain't shit anyway. I ain't even want you." But as you tried to walk away once again, he placed a tight grip on your shoulder to prevent you from escaping.

Miles was skipping class and wandering in the hallways when he saw you. From your body language, he could tell you were uncomfortable. His eyes glanced toward the guy's grip on your shoulder, and Miles suddenly understood the situation. He could see where this was heading. Or at least, he believed he did. Miles was about to intervene when within the blink of an eye, you had flipped the guy on his back and onto the floor.

You told the boy on the floor, "Don't try that shit again. With me or any other woman, got it?" Groaning in agony, the guy whimpered in response, and you took it as a 'yes'.

The guy was no André the Giant, but it impressed the hell out of Miles nonetheless. Since when could you do that? He questioned himself. Miles had to prevent his jaw from dropping. He was suddenly glad he never pushed you that far. You walked away unbothered as if nothing had happened. He gained a newfound respect for you. But that would have to stay unspoken.

Once Spanish class rolled around, you realized it was the second to last day you had to finish the project, so you were working extra diligently in Spanish class. You told Miles, "Alright, I finished decorating it. What do you think?" showing him the project. Not that you cared what he thought, but it would make this whole process much easier if he wouldn't shit on your every move. You've had your daily dose of asshole for the day. Almost an overdose, really.

A few moments passed by where he stared at the project, and then back to you. Fully expecting Miles to be his usual asshole self, you said, "Spit it out. What is it?" You waved your hand in front of his face. He swatted your hand away and replied, "I ain't gonna hold you, it's a pretty solid project so far."

You raised a brow at him, and suspiciously asked, "Really?" This was the first time he didn't have any retort to say. "Yeah, I think you're great, ma." He said. You cheekily grinned at him as he tried to correct himself, "I meant, great at the project. Yeah. The project." He almost stumbled on his words. He never did that. He was always collected. What was up with him? It was definitely a sudden change, but you weren't complaining.

There was only a small portion of the project left to do by the end of the class, so Miles suggested finishing it at his house.

This time after school, the both of you walked together to his house. As you worked on the project in his room, you noticed he wasn't getting much done. It seemed like he was in his head, whatever goes on in there. As you glanced up, he locked eyes with you. You hadn't a clue what he was thinking.

You originally would've preferred to do the project yourself, but if you had to have a partner, you believed the work should be divided equally. You weren't going to carry the whole project on your back.

"Why're you slacking, Miles? Our time is limited, y'know." "Ion know. Mind's elsewhere." He shrugged. It was subtle, but you noticed his glance travel to your lips. You grinned and took the opportunity to tease, "What, you want a kiss or somethin'?" You said it mainly as a joke. Sure, maybe you liked the way he gave you a challenge everyday. You wouldn't blatantly admit it, but it was refreshing to be with someone that actually cared about their work. But much to your surprise, he ran his hand over the back of his braids and said. "Shi, maybe it would motivate me. You feel me?"

Not expecting him to agree, you said, "I mean, alright. If you get off your ass, maybe I'll give you one." You tried to say as casually as you could. But you couldn't deny the fact that you were growing fond of him. You were internally conflicted as you wanted to hate him, but couldn't. In reality, it was far from hate.

Miles couldn't exactly pinpoint the moment his detest for you faded away and was replaced with something different. An emotion he rarely felt. Seeing you singlehandedly take on a guy was only fueling it for him. He quickly started working harder on his part. You mentally praised yourself. After a few silent moments, he spoke up, "Yo, I'm basically finished."

He was bullshitting, and you knew it. As you looked at his part of the project, he still had a good chunk to finish. But you caved and moved closer to him. Holding a hand to his face, you peppered a light kiss to the corner of his mouth, just barely avoiding his mouth.

As usual, he had something to say, "Don't play, mami." He resisted the urge to press his lips to yours until they were numb. You simply smiled at him and replied, "Yeah? Keep workin' and you'll earn a real one."

Immediately, Miles got right back to working on his part of the project without another complaint. You've never seen him work so studiously.

Pleased to say, with your motivation, Miles was more productive that day than all the other days combined.

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taglist! please lmk if u want to be added 🫶

@l5byrinth @iamspooderman

[itsshawtyfellas]

Breaking in

Pairing: Charlie Walker x fem!reader

Warnings: angst, 18+ (mature content such as dom!charlie, sub!reader, dry humping, clit stimulation, oral, praise kink, degradation kink, mask kink, penetration)

A/N: ngl I'm a sucker for all of those charlie as a sub type of fics (I stand by that) but I believe that behind that mask charlie is a whole different person based on his murders. So I decided to write something about it because why not 😈 sit down and enjoy my little sluts (btw my obsession with this man is over the roof by now help) the gif is just to give you a little idea of how it will go further into the fic😉

You didn't know how to feel.

Were you angry? Upset? Scared? Probably all of them.

You just couldn't believe it at first. You refused to believe your sweet, smart and funny boyfriend Charlie could do something like that.

You simply decided to go to Charlie's house after school to surprise him but when you got to his room you saw him taking off his ghostface costume that had droplets of blood in it. You confronted him about it, asking him if he was the one responsible for all the murders in Woodsboro so far and he didn't even bother to deny. He couldn't lie to you, so he admitted it, explaining the truth and reasoning behind it.

You were quiet the entire way back to your house and also inside it. Your mind went back to all the moments you had spent with him; the sweet ones, the sad ones, the intimate ones. As time went by, your thoughts made you realize how real it all was.

It's been only a couple of days since you walked out of his house and you still couldn't stop thinking about it. The rational side of your body kept telling you that you should inform the authorities; that meant reporting your boyfriend would not only make him stay in prison for a few good decades but it would also make you, as his girlfriend, an accomplice of his crimes since you knew the truth. Meanwhile, the emotional side of your body wanted you to hide the whole truth and run back into the kind arms of the love of your life. Whatever your decision was, you couldn't tell anyone about it.

Right as you mind wandered back to reality, you noticed the movie you had put on to distract yourself had ended, so you started to do some chores around your house, since you didn't want to think about it for a little while.

As you finished cleaning the kitchen, you went out for a few minutes to take out the trash, leaving the front door slightly ajar so you could go back in, but suddenly you felt eyes on you and a presence on your back. Turning around to go back inside, you quickly checked your surroundings to make sure you weren't being watched, scared you would be the next kill despite knowing Charlie would never do something to you.

The moment you turned around after closing your door, you came face to face with your boyfriend Charlie; except that he was wearing the ghostface costume and you gussed that he was either coming back from a kill or going for one. For brief seconds, the two of you just stood there in front of each other without saying a word. Every emotion and every thought that you were having and thinking earlier came back rushing to your heart and mind. Your own body was battling against your own, not knowing whether you should run away from him, to him or fight him; so you opted by asking him a simple but stupid question.

"Are you going to hurt me?" He didn't answer, only shaking his head.

"Then why are you here?"

"I wanted to see you." Those were his only words before going quiet again. He could tell you were feeling conflicted but he wasn't going to blame you.

"You could've called me." He took a step closer to you.

"I didn't know if you wanted to talk to me, much less see me."

He took another step towards you but you didn't back away. He kept coming closer and closer until he was right in front of you. Charlie lifted a hand to your face, caressing your cheek, feeling your skin heat up under his touch.

Not only was your skin hot, but your heart was almost popping out of your chest from how gently he was touching you. The way he was touching your face along with the way he was looking at you behind that mask was arousing you, even though you wanted to ignore it.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for putting you through this." His voice, soothing and calm as always, comforted you as he looked at your trembling form.

You had no words. Even after finding out he was the killer – ghostface– he still made you feel warm and fuzzy inside; you shouldn't but you couldn't help yourself, you still loved him and he was still your boyfriend.

"I didn't want you to find out this way, I swear I never meant to put you involved in this." Even though you couldn't see his face, you could still hear the plead in his voice.

"I was involved in all of this ever since you started murdering people knowing you and I were together and I could find out about it at any moment." You said, while stepping away from him, the anger and frustration showing through your voice. Charlie turned his head slightly away from the direction of your eyes knowing how upset you were. "At least show me your face and look at me if you're so sorry."

He was aware of how angry you were, so, like a soldier listening to his commander's orders, he turned his head back to you and brought his hand to his chin to take off his mask, his hair tied into a bun, all while looking into your eyes.

You stared at him; your eyes running all over his face, mostly remaining on his baby blue eyes, as if to remember every single detail of his angelic like features to assure yourself that he was still the same –which he was. If someone told you a few days ago that your boyfriend was the one who committed the murders, you wouldn't believe them and would've laughed in their face, telling them he would never do something like that, for he was far too sweet to kill people in such a brutal way, but right now, as you looked at him, you could only wish it wasn't true.

It didn't stop you though. It didn't stop your mind from reliving all those moments spent with him; it didn't stop your feelings from erupting into the surface everytime you thought of him; it didn't stop your heart from racing whenever you saw him; and it definitely didn't stop you from loving him.

You and Charlie kept eye contact with each other once no other words were exchanged. The silence surrounding your bodies in the living room was loud; you could even hear your light breaths and maybe even your heart ramming against your ribcage.

However, Charlie tried to make another move for the second time that day by walking slowly towards you. The stare in his eyes was so intense the arousal you felt before came back to your body, the tingling sensation lowering to your core. Without thinking, you took a step back as he kept walking towards you until you collided with the wall.

Your breathing got heavier as the air around you felt hot, the arousal only increasing more and more with the way Charlie was staring at you; what you didn't know was that he was doing it on purpose to rile you up. He loved to watch the way your chest rose up and down when he did something like this. It turned him on when he had some kind of control over you since it was unusual for him and when that happened he liked to enjoy it as much as he could.

"Do you still love me?" He asked with uncertainty.

"I don't know if I should." You answered out of spite despite wanting to say yes.

"Do you trust me?"

"I don't know if I should either."

No words were said after that. It wasn't that you didn't trust him or love him –you did, with your soul and life– but you wanted to see how the moment would go and how it would end. Would you lie to him and say you didn't want him anymore? Would you guys break up and never see each other again? Or would you confess your love and trust for him and keep it all a secret? Whatever way that conversation would go, your mind was set on not sending him to the authorities.

You were so distracted thinking about how it would all end, preparing yourself mentally and emotionally, that you didn't even notice Charlie's hand locking itself on your neck, right beneath your jawline, and leaning in to kiss you. Despite getting caught off guard, your body accepted the kiss with an eagerness never felt before.

As the kiss evolved, eventually turning into makeout session, all the doubts you were having before left your mind, the only thing remaining being the love and trust you had for him. A wave of emotions flooded your heart, making its palpitations increase, causing you to pull him closer to your body with your arms encircling around his neck.

To say he was surprised by your reaction was an understatement. Even though the love you had for one another was unconditional, he almost expected you to turn around and go straight to the police, but he was mostly relieved that you didn't. With that, he started to slowly and reluctantly slide his hands down your back, afraid you would stop him but decided to keep going when he felt you holding him even closer. Now feeling more secure and confident, he ran his hands over your waist and to your hips, pulling your pelvis against his when arousal started to rush into his body, going straight to his core.

"Do you want me?" He asked, pausing his actions.

"Yes." You didn't even hesitate to answer his question, the passion you were feeling mixing up with the physical contact only added more fervor into your veins. Right when you were about to carry on with the now heavy makeout session, Charlie stopped you by grabbing your wrist. Looking at him with a confused look in your face, you were about to ask him what was he doing when he suddenly took a step back. When he did this, your mind began to cloud itself with insecurities and second thoughts, in fear that he had regretted his decision; it almost made you prepare yourself for a heartbreak until you saw him kneeling down to grab his mask that he dropped earlier on the floor to put it back on.

"Charlie?" Without answer, he started to walk back to you, your body still pressed against the wall. Even when you couldn't see his face due to the mask, you could feel his eyes on you, watching you like a hawk. It made you feel nervous and a little scared but you kept telling yourself he wouldn't hurt you –after all you trusted him and you wanted him to know that.

Now standing in front of you again, Charlie tilted his head lightly, noticing the way your chest rose up and down due to your heavy breathing, your lips slightly parted and your eyes locked on his –or his mask.

At first, he thought about taking off the costume and let things flow between the two of you like they usually would, but now, as he stands in front you, watching the way your body reacted to him and his actions, he couldn't help but feel a sudden urge to take control, soon overtaken by a feeling of power, something he would mostly feel whenever he wore the ghostface costume for his kills. All of it only turned him on more.

You weren't far behind. If someone walked in on that moment and saw ghostface –or Charlie– in your living room cornering you against the wall, they would immediately think you were being attacked and would call the police –but that wasn't the case as the energy around the room shifted once again as your body heat increased and your heartbeat sped up as Charlie kept staring at you under that mask, causing you to feel just as aroused as he was.

Coming even closer until your bodies were touching, he grabbed your hips and pulled you close to him all over again, his hands then sliding down to your buttcheeks to bring your pelvis towards his to create some sort of friction. Noticing this, you circled your arms around his torso and buried your face in his neck, moving your hips against his clothed erection, while his hands held your ass helping your movements.

Not a single word other than each other's heavy breathing was exchanged as the two of you were humping your hips towards one another, at least not until one of his hands left your butt and you felt his fingertips going over the seam of your pajama pants, teasing you at first to arouse you even more and then going under your panties and to your pussy, using his middle and ring fingers to give you slow and light circles to your stimulated clit.

"C-Charlie..." You panted against his neck. The hand that was still holding your cheek, was brought to your chin, lifting your face from his neck in order to make you look at him, his head slightly tilted in a provoking way.

"What is it? Hmm? Does it feel good?" He asked, amusement oozing out of his voice as he kept touching your pussy.

"Y-Yes, yes, it feels s-so good." You stuttered, as you let your head fall on his shoulder.

"Yes, it does and you wanna know why? Because you're taking it like a good little slut, aren't you?" As he spoke, the words only got stuck in your throat as you felt your orgasm approaching, the only possible answers being the nods of your head and the shifting of your hips as he changed the speed of his fingers, going even faster to help you reach your peak.

"Shhh, I know, I know, there you go." He praised, his voice soft in your ear as the most earth shattering orgasm hit you, making your body tremble in his arms, the sounds of your erratic breathing only getting louder with each after shock, causing your shaking form to look like it just got a short circuit.

Charlie then removed his fingers from your underwear, wiping them on his costume without care and took a step back, giving you a minute to cool off before trying anything else. He was about to ask if you were okay but refrained himself from saying it when you suddenly brought your hands to his ankles, in an attempt to remove his costume, lifting it up and taking it off his body along with his shirt, leaving him with only his mask and jeans. As you were about to unbuckle his belt, Charlie suddenly held your hands, stopping your actions. You glanced up at him perplexed, questioning why would he stop you and wondering if he didn't want you to return the favor when all of a sudden you felt the weight of his palms on your shoulders, gently but firmly pressing on them to push you down on your knees.

"What? Isn't this what you want, hmm?" You could tell he asked it in a rhetoric way, using a taunting and condescending tone and smirking under his mask, whilst stroking your cheek and looking down at you, almost as if telling you you knew what to do. So, with little hesitation and excitement filling your body, you brought your hands to his belt loops, unbuckling them and then unbuttoning his pants, giving little kisses and licks on his firm abs and down his v-line, his hips going forward, towards your mouth as you tugged down his jeans along with his boxer briefs.

"Look at you, pretty little thing getting excited over my cock. You're such a fucking whore, aren't you, baby?" Charlie's words did nothing but arouse you even more, making you feel even more turned on to the point your own wetness was seeping through your panties.

Bringing his pants and boxers down to the middle of his thighs, you took a few seconds to admire him in all his glory, starting with his face –covered by the mask– and going down his naked torso, ending with his fully erected dick, standing long, hard and with a certain girth before grabbing his cock in your hand, kissing his underside and then wrapping your lips around his reddish tip, lightly sucking and swirling your tongue around it while using your hand to stroke him slowly and teasingly to excite him even more. You kept doing this for a while before Charlie got tired of your teasing and put a hand on the back of your upper neck and brought your head forward, taking off your hand so you could bob your head easily.

"Fuck, you're doing so good, it's like you were made to suck dick, weren't you? Maybe that's why you always look so pretty with my cock in your mouth, right? What would everyone say if they saw you right now on your knees in front of the so known ghostface, sucking him off like the dirty fucking slut you are, hmm? You'd love that, wouldn't you, baby?"

Your boyfriend's choice of words only made you move your head even faster, trying to make him reach his orgasm with his hand still at the back of your neck controlling your movements. All you could hear were his groans along with his irregular breathing as he rutted his hips against your mouth, feeling you squeeze your lips around him and running your tongue on the underside as he came and let the milky white substance fill the inside of your cheeks, watching you swallow it all.

As soon as he finished, Charlie grabbed your arm and pulled you to your feet, your knees sore from being on the floor for too long, and, without saying a single word, bended your over the arm of your couch and pulled your pajama pants down, looking at the wetness of your pussy.

"God, you're so fucking wet, is this from sucking me off? Yeah? Do you want me to fuck you? Will you be a good girl and let me fuck you? Answer me or I'll make you fuck my shoe instead of me." He said, running his middle finger up and down your pussy, circling your clit every once in a while.

"Yes, y-yes, please fuck me, please..." You panted.

He didn't answer, simply pushing your head down and lifted your hips a little, making you arch your back, and started to rub the tip of his dick on your clitoris and then at your entrance, sliding in slowly to let you adjust to him before starting to move in a slow pace, soon speeding up the rhythm of his thrusts while paying attention to your light moans.

"Fucking hell, you're such a fucking whore, fucking a murderer in your living room when no one knows who and where he is, but you love it, don't you, darling?" The way Charlie was talking only added more fire to your veins and skin, making you try and push your hips back a little to meet his thrusts, when you felt his hands gripping your thighs and sliding up and around your hips, adding more force into his thrusts, only to bring a hand to the front of your body, towards your pussy, stroking your clit to bring you to the edge.

The house was so quiet that the sounds of skin slapping, erratic breathing, grunts and moans seemed loud on your ears but it only made the two of you more excited.

"Are you gonna cum? You want me to fill you up and stuff your pretty little pussy with my cum? Is that what you want? Cum for me then, c'mon, love, you can do it, cum." Charlie panted, his voice slightly baffled by the mask that he was still wearing.

"C-Cumming, cumming –fuck– I'm cumming..." You stuttered as you felt your legs starting to shake, feeling an orgasm coming to hit you body as you shivered, it being as strong and intense as an earthquake, feeling the spurts of cum painting the walls of your pussy, as Charlie came inside you.

After taking a few minutes to gather your breaths, Charlie pulled out of you and used his shirt to clean you up and pull up your pants after taking off his mask and buttoning his jeans. The two of you were staring at each other's eyes in silence before he decided to speak.

"I'm sorry. I really am." Those were his only words before looking at the floor, not being able to look you in the eye.

"It's okay, I love you and I still trust you with my life, and even when I shouldn't I won't report you."

"Thank you, I love you so much." Nothing else was said afterwards as you locked yourselves in a passionate kiss.

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A/N: Jesus fucking christ this took me DAYS but tbh I'm just happy that it's already done😁 well I just hope that you guys enjoy the reading🤭

[juyeonszn]

I WANNA TIE THE KNOT

PAIRING lee hyunjae x f!reader

WORD COUNT 1.70k

GENRES fluff ﹒smut

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, established relationship, it escalates pretty fast ngl, fingering but there’s honestly no real foreplay, u tie hyunjae up with ribbon, dry humping, unprotected sex (wrap before u tap besties), cowgirl position, marking lowkey, scratching, hyunjae is a master at pillowtalk, creampie :P

SUMMARY that coquette bow trend on the internet really isn’t for the faint of heart. at least, that’s what you think when you decide to do it with hyunjae.

MORE 😂😂😂🔫 anyway. i actually wrote this in one sitting. in one night. bc i was insatiable for the coquette trend after a Very Passionate discussion with @kimsohn and @zzoguri <3 delusional sapphics 1, 2, and 3 back at it AGAIN! if u noticed, all 3 of us wrote something involving these godforsaken bows. this fic was a long time coming seeing as i wrote it a month ago but i remembered it was valentine’s day so,,,, here u go! pls dont forget to reblog if u enjoyed <3

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble @zzoguri @deoboyznet @cloverdaisies @vernyangel @ericlvr @sunwooverse @kimsohn

“Can we try this?”

Hyunjae raises an eyebrow at you when you shove your phone in his face, scooting up higher from where you were laying on his lap. He watches the video with mild amusement. 

“You want to tie a bow around my bicep?” He asks you, as if your request was so far-fetched and out of the ordinary. He had nice arms, he’d look cute with a ribbon wrapped around it. The whole coquette vibe matched well with his pretty face. 

“Yeah, why not? It’s a cute trend. And at least I’m not suggesting the one where I tie your mouth shut,” you rest your cheek on his chest, blinking up at him with hopeful eyes. “Please, Jae? For me?”

It’s a little comical when you physically see the war waging in his head. He wants to decline, thinks the idea of you putting one of your ribbons around his fucking bicep is kind of stupid, but he could never say no to those eyes. Lee Hyunjae was a weak, weak man. 

So he agrees. 

Next thing he knows, you’re filming him flexing with the cute little bow on his arm to post on your social media. He should feel silly, standing still so you can record the perfect shot, but he doesn’t. You look so cute with your tongue poking out of the corner of your mouth, he feels his mind straying from the original plan. 

He wraps his arms around your waist when you go to edit the video, preparing to post it publicly. You squirm as his lips make contact with the sensitive spot below your ear, kissing tenderly and sweetly. “Jaehyun….”

Your warning tone does not dispel his efforts to distract you, the tips of his fingers dipping below the waistband of your sleep shorts. The pads drag along your hip bones while his mouth travels lower on your neck, nipping at the soft skin visible beneath your top. “Yes, my love?”

“Don’t fucking ‘my love’ me right now,” you whine, craning your neck to the side to give him more access to the surface. “You know what you’re doing.”

“Is it working?” Hyunjae teases, thumb applying the slightest amount of pressure on your clothed clit. “Are you gonna let me fuck you with these pretty bows on?”

The groan you release is guttural, because god your boyfriend knew how to turn you on like a damn light switch. Your eyelids flutter shut and your head falls back on his shoulder, phone slipping out of your grasp and onto the floor. His finger moves in tight circles on the bundle of nerves, cupping the rest between the apex of your thighs. Fuck, he was starting to get the better of you. 

“Y-Yes, but on— mmm— on one condition,” you force yourself to stay steeled, keeping your voice as stable as possible. 

“And what is that?” Hyunjae nibbles your earlobe, teeth grazing the shell and sending goosebumps all over the expanse of your skin. His ring finger presses up on your entrance over your dampened underwear, making you clench around nothing. 

Oh he was a dead man. You were going to make him pay. 

“You w-wear the ribbons,” your breathing hitches. “Let me— let me tie you up. I’ll make it worth your while, Jae. P-Promise…”

He halts his motions, like he’s contemplating your words carefully. It’s not like much would change, to be honest. Hyunjae would still be the one in control after a certain point. You just wanted the excuse to bind the smug motherfucker for once. And to keep the bows on him, but around his wrists this time. 

Hyunjae retracts his hands from your shorts to remove his shirt, the heat radiating against your back from his bare torso. Your chest heaves up and down as you watch him climb back to the head of the bed, sweatpants low on his hips. It takes a whole fucking lot of self restraint not to jump his bones then and there, but you manage, straddling his waist so you can tie his wrists to the bed posts with your pink satin ribbon. Your hands are shaky, like your breathing, but he doesn’t point it out, letting you have your fun. 

A low grunt escapes his lips when you pull on the fabric, ensuring it’s tight enough to hold him still but loose enough not to leave a mark. It doesn’t help that he can feel you pulsating through your sleep shorts onto his abdomen, his muscles contracting underneath you. 

You aren’t really sure if you can even keep up your own act, grinding down on his lap like a bitch in heat. It’s embarrassing how easy it is for him to work you up without so much as touching you. You knew if you didn’t stop now, you’d dry hump him until you were a quivering mess, fully clothed and all. Hyunjae knows you’re needy, too, the corner of his lips quirking up. 

“Can we— god— can we just s-skip the foreplay?” You whine into the crook of his neck, hooking your fingers into his sweatpants. “Want you inside me already…”

“Of course, baby, you know I’ll never say no to you,” he coos, mouth finding yours to kiss you slowly, gently, passionately. 

You push his pants and underwear down in one go, using your feet to kick them away so you can undress yourself as fast as possible. Your desperation is too strong to pretend it’s not there, so you give into your own carnal desires. Hyunjae hisses when your cunt hovers over his cock, so slick that it doesn’t take long for him to slip inside completely. 

Every time you have sex with him, you feel so full, the weight of his cock so deep in you that you see stars well before he’s even moved. You support yourself with a hand on each of his shoulders, lips still molded with his as you begin to bounce meticulously. Your moans are muffled with his kiss, practically impaling yourself on his dick. 

Your hips roll experimentally, throwing your head back with a drawn out moan and your nails clawing down his chest when he hits that particular spot inside your pussy. Hyunjae lets out a sound akin to a strangled moan, wanting nothing more than to get his hands all over your body so he can fuck you six ways to Sunday. 

He bends his knees to make it a bit smoother for you, relishing in the way you’re losing yourself to your pleasure without him having to do a single thing. You’re just rutting against him at this point, legs beginning to give out this early. 

“Don’t— mmm— Hyunjae, I can’t— ‘s too much,” your speech is already slurred, words blurring together and making hardly any sense. 

“Let me get out of these, baby,” he tugs at the ribbons. “I’ll fuck you so good, my love. I’ll give you— fuck— what you want.”

You nod frantically, not trusting your voice to say anything remotely coherent. Thankfully, Hyunjae takes note of the lack of strength you currently have, not expecting you to untie the knots on his wrists without struggle. You watch with heavy lids and he pulls harshly, tearing the satin binding him to the bed frame. So much for them being secure…

Your top half collapses into his chest and he grasps at your waist roughly, having half the mind to flip you over and pin you to the mattress. Instead, he presses up into you, slow at first so he can regain his bearings after being tied up, and then he’s bucking up into your pussy like a jackrabbit. 

“Thought you could take me—“ he cuts himself off with a groan. “Thought you could take me all by yourself like a big girl, huh?” 

Whining in response is all you can do, almost on the verge of tears. The sounds of your cunt sucking him in, squelching echoing around the bedroom, are nearly enough to knock you over the edge. The coil in the pit of your stomach stretches more and more, teeth sinking into his collarbone and marking up his supple, sweaty skin like it was your day job. His blunt nails dig into the fat of your hips as a means of grounding himself, holding back from finishing before you because you were his top priority. 

Your nimble fingers sneak between your bodies to massage your oh-so-sensitive clit, ring and middle digits working at double their usual speed. Hyunjae stares at you with hearts in his eyes as you try desperately to get yourself off. He thinks you’re gorgeous every second of every day, but for some reason, you look fucking breathtaking right now. 

“My pretty girl, taking it like a champ,” he grits his teeth. “You love when I fuck you like a pornstar, don’t you?” 

It’s when he connects your lips in a kiss so sweet it puts all the others to shame and so polar-opposite to the filth the two of you were committing, that you cum without warning, velvety walls constricting around his cock. Your head is empty and your vision goes white for a moment, static ringing in your ears. He follows immediately after, moaning into your mouth as he does so. You swallow the noises while your breathing stutters, the sensation of him filling you up with all he can give blindsiding your senses. 

You stay sandwiched together as you both calm down, tired and achy from such strenuous activity. When you stop to think about the cause of these events, you snort until it morphs into an uncontrollable laughter. (Then you wince because Hyunjae’s dick was still inside of you.)

“What’s so funny?” He furrows his eyebrows, making no effort to move. 

“That fucking bow trend led to one of the best orgasms of my life,” you’re still laughing, chin on your hands, which are folded over his chest. “It’s so stupid.”

“The bows are cute. Maybe you should let me try tying you up with them next time.” Hyunjae pecks your forehead, running his fingers through your hair. 

“Trust me,” you giggle, a yawn threatening to push past your lips. “There will definitely be a next time.”

© juyeonszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[tio-trile]

can I ask, because I'm a GO book fan too and I decided ages ago I didn't care enough about the show to watch s2 - what made them so OOC? I always felt that their book personalities basically got swapped in S1 but it seems like people are even madder about this. ngl it is kind of inspiring me to write more fic with book canon dark-haired Crowley in it lol

Okay so SPOILERS FOR GOOD OMENS SEASON 2:

So first of all towards the end I couldn't take much of it anymore due to various reasons, including that somebody was kind enough to spoil the very ending (of them breaking up and that that's the ending of the show) on the 27th, so I didn't even feel like finishing the show, but I pushed myself to and therefore was half-watching it towards the end, so my memory may not be the most accurate but I can't bare to go back and rewatch it.

From the very beginning I hated that it was retconned that they knew each other as angels. The point, the THEME is that they're friends despite being on opposite sides. And it was said that Aziraphale DID remember Crowley as an angel. So did he only become friends with him because he remembered Crowley when they were friends as angels??? I hate how this changed the beautiful beginning of the book and their first meeting, and the THEME. (Oh BTW Aziraphale is also a landlord who takes rent from this poor lady although he doesn't need the money at all??? But that's beside the point)

In ep3 Aziraphale driving the Bentley was pretty cute and at one point A and C had the canon conversation in the book with where you start vs. upbringing so those are fine. But Crowley in Aziraphale's bookshop tossing all of Aziraphale's beloved books around carelessly......Crowley would never.

In ep4 it was said that Aziraphale owns a gun which I thought was very in-character XD. And that Crowley has never fired a gun.

EP6 was where all the shit went down......first of all I was making loud retching noises in my office @ the Gabriel x Beelzebub thing that came out of nowhere......and the plot goes that Gabriel and Beelzebub basically ran off together somewhere, so Metatron was like "the supreme archangel job position is open now and we want YOU, Aziraphale, to fill it. You can even make your friend Crowley an angel again" and Aziraphale accepted??????!?!?!???!?! Aziraphale's entire arc in the books and in season 1 and THE THEME is that they don't agree with their uppers anymore, he and Crowley are on the human's side, and on their own side. And suddenly, Aziraphale believes that working as a higher position in heaven is a good idea? And agreeing that turning Crowley back to an angel is better basically means that he thinks that angels are inherently better than demons, WHICH IS THE IDEA THAT THE BOOK AND SEASON 1 SPENT THE ENTIRE PLOT TO OVERTHROW???? And also I hate hate the idea that Aziraphale and Crowley must be somebody important. THE POINT is that they are nobodies, and that's what makes them great and relatable. They are NOT EVEN MAIN CHARACTERS in the book nor Season 1. In the show, Crowley also disagreed with Aziraphale's idea and they argued about it and then Crowley angrily kissed him (??) and then left and Aziraphale went to Superheaven to take the job ig. OH and Aziraphale said "I forgave you" to Crowley????? WHAT??? I've overlooked every little nitpicky thing I had about their characters in season 1, but these actions are irreversible and inexcusable. I'm done with the TV show. Nothing they do in season 3 can fix this. I'll just pretend this show never existed now.

[notiddygxthgf]

𝟎

★ pairings: suguru geto x satoru gojo, satosugu

★ synopsis: Suguru Geto struggles with letting people in after leaving a three-year-long abusive relationship. Enter Satoru Gojo, the boy who doesn't seem to take no for an answer.

★ c.w.: slow burn, mutual pining, explicit sexual content, dub con elements, implied/referenced rape/non-con, mahito is a real abusive asshole, past relationship(s), past abuse, recovery, hurt, comfort, vent fic, based on my shitty ex, my therapist told me it'd be a good idea idk, im a good writer I swear, brought to u by the bch who wrote best friend's brother!choso, sexual tension, new love, fluff, angst, smutt, graphic, psychological trauma, theres a happy ending in here I swear, angst with a happy ending, psychological trauma, PTSD, idiots in love, sexy smut I swear.

★ a/n: NGL I kinda hate how this turned out. but! it had to be done! I had to get it out of the way. the way I think this is gonna work is past flashbacks first, present time next. it's gonna prob alternative between the two for a while. comment your thoughts! let me hear u! feel free to slander mahito... he plays the shitty ex.

★ w.c.; 3.4k

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

𝐔 𝐍 𝐅 𝐎 𝐑 𝐓 𝐔 𝐍 𝐀 𝐓 𝐄    𝐀 𝐈 𝐋 𝐌 𝐄 𝐍 𝐓

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

PROLOGUE

2019. MONTH UNKNOWN.

I WAS ONLY 12 YEARS OLD the first time I tried to kill myself. In retrospect, I can’t possibly imagine what could have been so important to little me that he firmly believed he would rather die than live without it. I wish I could say that I had a difficult life. That simply was not the case. I grew up with two loving parents and a kind brother, in a small town where every friend I’d ever had was within a mile of me at any given point in time. We weren’t rich, but we most certainly weren’t poor. I had everything a child could ask for and so much more.

Again, I wish that I could say I had a difficult life, but that simply was not the case. 

It’s just that I’ve had these… thoughts for as long as I can remember. An unfortunate ailment, if you will. No matter what I did, there always seemed to be something missing. Something I felt I would spend my whole life searching for – or at least trying to supplement.

At 12 years old, I planned my first attempt.

It didn’t work.

So, now, faced with the unbearable burden of deciding what I was going to do for the rest of my life, I chose to pursue a childhood dream of mine. I wanted to go to school to become a doctor. I didn’t know what kind, per se, but I knew that I wanted to heal. 

Maybe I thought, I don’t know… that if I healed enough people, I may have been rid of the ailment – healed, myself.

So I left my small town, enrolling in an academy 30 minutes away from the house. I got into their Healthcare program. Again, what more could a kid want?

Yet the void inside of me only grew larger, more ravenous. I lost touch with all of my small town friends – one by one. I had no one.

But I was pursuing my passion, right? Why wasn’t it enough?

It was in that godforsaken academy that I met him.  

“Pick a card,” he asked me. His grey eyes were so sharp, even then. “Any card.”

I glanced down at the fanned-out deck in his pale hand, eyes crawling over the many different suits and shapes before eventually settling on an ace. I pulled the card out. 

Ace of spades. I tried to memorize it. I also, coincidentally, tried my best to ignore the incessant thrum of my racing heartbeat against my veins, my arteries, my chest. He was sitting so close to me.

It was just the two of us in the hallway. Just me and him and the infinite space between us, the small gap between my right shoulder and his left. 

I handed it back to him. “What are you doing?” I asked.

He slipped the card back into the deck without looking. He shuffled it once, twice, three times. Made a bridge with his hands and let the cards fall back into place. I watched with a remarkable sense of interest.

“Is this your card?” He tucked a stray blue hair behind his ear, producing a card.

I furrowed my brows, about to say something, when I noticed something off about the card. It was different. Where there once was a large blue spade, there now was a small, torn piece of lined paper taped to the surface. The gray lettering on the handwritten note read,

WILL U GO OUT W/ ME?

My eyes went as wide as saucers. My mouth lolled open, lips shaped around his cursed name, “Mahito, I…” 

I thought of my parents. I thought of my religious father. What would he say? What would he say if he found out his 14-year-old son was a homosexual?

I thought of my parents, and I bit my lip, “I don’t know if I can… I don’t know. What if my dad finds out?”

Mahito tucked the deck of cards neatly into the pocket of his black cargo pants. His hoodie was rolled up to his elbows, revealing intricate stick-and-poke linework over his forearms. He shrugged, humming, “Who says he has to?”

The tardy bell rang. We were late for first period.

My mouth opened by itself again. At fourteen, I wasn’t so sure I was ready to lie to my father about something so serious. Not yet.

Seemingly sensing my hesitance, Mahito laid a hand on my stiff shoulder. “Hey,” he muttered softly. “Think about it. Give me your answer after school, yeah? We’ll meet here at 3:30.”

And then he slipped away with a quiet, ‘See ya’.

Without confirmation.

In his absence, I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat.

2019 February.

Mahito ran away from home two weeks into our relationship. Ran away without so much as a notice or a warning. Ran away and left me there to assume the worst. He didn’t live in the best area. Perhaps he was staying with a friend? If not, was he dead in a ditch somewhere?

There was no way to tell.

He could have at least told me, I had thought. Then again, would I have tried to stop him? Undoubtedly.

They issued a missing persons alert the day after he didn’t show up. I remember seeing the poster all over my social media, all over the streetlights and posts. 

It didn’t seem real. Even as I held the missing poster in my trembling hand, I remember feeling numb. I remember feeling as if this were all some sort of cruel prank, that he would be back just in time for our after-school walk with a smile on his face.

 But there he was, smiling up at me from the page in my hand. 

MISSING PERSON: MAHITO 

Height: 5’8

Weight: 150

Eye color: gray

Hair color: blue

Remarkable features: tattoos on arms

Last seen: February 14th.

I crumpled the piece of paper up, tossing it across my messy bedroom with a sigh. I hadn’t slept last night, and I wouldn’t have slept tonight either.

I sunk into myself, curled into a ball on my twin-sized mattress – the same one I’d had for as long as I could remember – and cried. I was utterly inconsolable. I cried until my voice was hoarse, until there were no more tears left to cry.

Until my phone buzzed.

I assumed it was another homework notification. I didn’t check. What did it matter? In my eyes, my world had stopped spinning. It had stopped the moment he ran away.

But it buzzed again, and again.

It was then that I realized I was getting a call. Begrudgingly, I picked my phone up off of the bed. I turned it over. The screen was lit up with the words ‘NO CALLER ID’. 

I wanted to hang up. Desperately. Wanted to save myself a shred of peace and dignity and move on with my night – in hindsight, I probably should have just hung up when I had the chance. But, no, I felt something in my gut call out to me.

Against my better judgment, I answered, “Hello?”

The line crackled. “Suguru?”

Suguru. 

My heart leapt up into my throat. With wide eyes, I answered again, “Who’s this?”

“Suguru, it’s me, Mahito,” He sighed with relief, like he hadn’t expected me to pick up. Truth be told, I hadn’t expected it either. “I’m sorry I couldn’t call you sooner, my love. I’m calling you from a phone booth right now.”

My love. The nickname sounded like honey coming from his lips, but I knew it was laced with venom. Still, as would seem to be the trend, I was weak for it. 

My eyes began to water again, somehow. “Where are you?”

I knew better than to call him ‘baby’. Not when my father was sleeping in the room next to mine. 

“I can’t tell you that right now,” He answered. Of course, he couldn’t. There always seemed to be something he was hiding from me. I didn’t see it that way back then. “Look, I don’t have much time to talk, I–”

“I’ve been worried sick about you, Mahi,” I spoke again. I felt numb. So numb. “Please, just–”

“I stole ten grand from my mom,” He cut me off. “I’m running away from home. The abuse, it’s just– I can’t. I can’t, anymore.”

His mother was a real piece of shit. I knew that. She never wanted Mahito, not as a single mother. So she tried multiple times to be rid of him – beating him senseless with hangers and wires and even going so far as to attempt to poison him on his birthday. 

Still, ten grand was a lot of money.

Stolen.

“I’m on the run from the cops, I– I think they’re trying to find me,” He panted into the microphone. “You can’t tell anyone, okay? You gotta lie for me.”

I felt sick. Sick to my fucking stomach.

“I’m sorry, I…” I trailed off, holding back vomit. “Hold on.”

I ran to the bathroom and promptly emptied the contents of my stomach into the sink. I had just eaten mac and cheese an hour or so ago, and the vomit was tinted yellow. I could still see a few noodles here and there, only partially digested.

It made me want to hurl again.

“You okay?” he asked me.

“Am I– No, I’m not fucking okay, Mahito! First, you run away without–” I had to swallow bile a second time. I felt it burn as it slid back down my throat. “You could have fucking warned me , or something, and now you’re calling me at eleven at night to tell me you’re fleeing the fucking cops?”

He paused. “I know,” he said. “I know, I’m sorry. You know I love you.”

And immediately, like some sort of magic trick, I felt my exterior soften. I didn’t even care that we were only a few weeks into our relationship. He was my first. It was like he knew the effect he had on me. 

“Suguru,” he said again. “I love you.”

His words were like honey. I took a spoonful.

“I love you, too,” I sighed into the receiver. 

“You’ll keep quiet about this for me, right?”

I was weak for him, as always.

“Okay,” I said.

I found myself sitting at my desk in the middle of the day, struggling to concentrate on the lesson. The classmates at my table – more like a group of desks placed together – were talking about the missing boy.

My missing boy.

They were talking to me, actually, but I had long since tuned them out. It was all a blur for me – a blur of faces and voices and words I didn’t want to hear. 

“He’s a freak,” The boy across from me, Choso Kamo, remarked. “If I were you, I’d break things off before it’s too late.”

Choso’s critical words sent a sharp pang right through my rotten heart. 

“Exactly,” My friend, Shoko, chimed in. She was a pretty thing, about a few inches shorter than me with brown hair up to her chin. She always looked so tired . I wonder if she recognized that I felt the same. “He’s got some serious issues. Guys like that rarely make for healthy relationships.”

Choso leaned in, leaned over the desk to offer more of his thoughts, “You can’t just ignore the fact that more people are catchin’ on, either. What if your dad finds out? You know he thinks that… kind of stuff is wrong.”

Choso was Shoko’s friend. He wasn’t homophobic. A little misguided, but he had the spirit. Hell if he weren’t a raging heterosexual, I might have even gone for him instead. He had that look I liked – sleepy, downturned, dark eyes framed by messy bangs. He never wore colors. He was content to make a statement in black. Black eyeliner, black shirt, black doc martens, black hair done up into two messy pigtails. 

It was his signature look.

Our classmates didn’t take too kindly to ‘emos’ like him, though. He was an outcast. Hell, we all were. That’s why we sat together, after all.

The harsh opinions of my classmates threatened to erode my self assurance. I knew people were talking – people always talked. I knew the hushed whispers of my name as I walked past people and cliques in the mornings on my way to class weren’t a hallucination. 

I knew I had to stand by my boyfriend. I knew I had to stand by Mahito, but the weight of their disapproval put a strain on my shoulders. Does anyone want to hear that their friends don’t approve of their partner?

Admittedly, he wasn’t a very good partner. He had demonstrated that much in the first few weeks of our relationship. I knew he wasn’t good for me, but, fuck, I wanted to try. I wanted to make things work so badly that I ached for it. Everyone else knew he wasn’t good for me, too. 

But, fuck, was I naive to wish I could prove them all wrong?

In my eyes, he was only misunderstood. The ghosting, the red flags, the alarming behavior… I could see past it all because I loved him. My first love. No one understood him the way I did. How could I blame them for their concerns?

It didn’t matter how many voices I had in my ear telling me it was wrong. Soon, he would come home to me, and I would feel his skin against my cheek as I hugged him hello. That’s all that mattered.

How could that be wrong?

“It’s not wrong. How could it be?” I kept my gaze trained on my desk. My vision was blurry, unfocused. My mind felt numb and detached. I muttered. “I love him. He loves me, too. He told me he did.”

He did.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Choso and Shoko exchange a dubious look. 

They didn’t understand him the way I did.

“He told me he loved me,” I repeated the words like a mantra, like a reminder to myself that I was fighting for something. 

That as long as I was loved by him, I would be okay. 

He called again that night. Earlier, this time, at nine o’clock. 

I was in the shower at that time, curled up on the floor, sobbing into my arms. The water streamed past my shoulders, my arms, my nose. I glanced over at the screen through blurry eyes. 

NO CALLER ID.

I closed my eyes. I took a deep breath.

Then, I let the call ring.

Current Day. 

[12:13 PM]

[Automated]: you have 3 new messages. Play back?

[USER] Selected:

[NO] ...

... [View Inbox]

...

[ Last 6 Years ].

[REPLAY>>] Message from 'Blocked Number'.

Transcription:

" Suguru, this is me, Mahito. I don’t know if you can hear me or not– I don’t know if anyone can hear you or not, so please use headphones, or something, I don’t know. I just wanted to call and make sure you’re okay. I’m gonna try and call you later. Right now you seem to not be answering your phone for some reason. Doesn’t matter, though. I’m not in a really good place, right now, I’m… surrounded by a lot of people. So, um.. I just wanted to say that I love you, and I’ll call you a little bit later, okay? Bye– kisses…….”  

[End of Transcription] 

[Automated]: Would you like to play the next message?

[ Yes. ]

“ Suguru, is this– this is me, Mahito. Um.. I just wanted to say that I’m okay. Nothing has happened to me yet. I’m perfectly safe. I’m in a laundromat somewhere. And, uh, I said I love you… I don’t know why you’re not answering my calls… You know that I always try to text you whenever I can– and try to… call you, but… I don’t know, maybe you’re too depressed, or some shit. Maybe you’re mad at me. I understand. I– what I did was wrong, I… What I did was idiotic, and what I did was stupid, and shitty… And I understand if you’re mad at me and you don’t wanna answer my calls. So, yeah, I gues… I’ll try to call you again tomorrow. 

If you’re hearing this voicemail, but you probably won’t, um… I just want you to know that I love you. And I’m trying to do my best just… to see you again. You like pizza, don’t you? How about we do a pizza date sometime, yeah? Somewhere around next week, maybe. Huh? How about that? Sounds cool, right? Yeah, yeah it does. Um, anyway, I… gotta… I gotta go. I have to… do some things. Uh… uh… at least I love you. 

And, I– I might not have brought much with me, but I have the little stuffie that you gave me. It’s in my book bag. Not gonna take it out because people are gonna know what my things look like. I’m always gonna keep these memories close to my heart. I don’t care what anybody says. Even if I go to prison, I’m taking this shit with me. Alright? Um, I guess that’s it. And… last thing? I love you. 

Please, answer me. If you’re calling, that means you actually care, but if you don’t, then… it’s fine. Don’t recall this number. I’m not gonna respond. This is just some random guy’s phone. Okay? Um… I love you, and please stay safe. Please don’t worry, I’m still alive. I miss you. Okay, bye, I love you.”

 [End of Voicemails Received on February 18th, 2019].

[Automated]: Would you like to replay the messages?

[ No. ]

[ Delete ] > [ All messages from {Blocked Number}] 

[Automated]: Are you sure?

[Yes]

[Automated]: Deleting all messages from {Blocked Number}.

THE WIND BLEW IN HEAVY from below, sending a plethora of leaves flying out in all directions. As I knelt down to test the current with my fingers, my boots sank deeper into the muddy riverside.

I sat on the bench in front of the riverbed. Wiping my fingers dry on the fabric of my denim jeans, I took a moment to take in my surroundings. The park was mostly empty, save for a few teenagers

The water always looked pretty this time of year. For a few moments, you stood there drinking in the sight of it.

In the present, I sat alone in front of the serene lake, surrounded by the picturesque beauty of nature. Lush green trees lined the shore, their leaves rustling in the gentle breeze. The scent of damp earth and the distant call of birds created a peaceful atmosphere, contrasting with the turmoil in my mind.

I watched as groups of carefree teenagers ran around, their laughter and joy a stark contrast to the heavy weight I carried in my heart. A deep sigh escaped my lips as I averted my gaze towards the shimmering water.

I wished for the water to possess the power to cleanse me, to wash away the burdens that weighed on my soul. 

The sound of the water rushing past was almost deafening, drowning out the laughter of the teenagers. It consumed my thoughts, leaving me with an overwhelming feeling of dread and isolation. I yearned for the water to offer solace, as if it held the key to absolution and a fresh start, but it remained an unsettling reminder of my own inner turmoil.

I had a vision every time I came here for some peace of mind. It was the same vision every single time. It plagued me every time I found myself in front of the water. It was an image of me, standing at the water's edge, and then, with a deep sense of despair, throwing myself into it, sinking into the abyss and drowning.

As I sat there, the scenery around me seemed to blur, and the vision of my drowning self played on a loop in my mind, a relentless nightmare that I couldn't escape. The lake, which should have been a source of tranquility, had become a symbol of my pain and a relentless reminder of my inner struggles.

It seemed to call to me. I could almost hear the wind carry my name.

Suguru.

The water always looked pretty this time of year. I sat there watching it for a moment too long, wondering what it would feel like to be enveloped by the cold current, to feel it wash me away. 

And, again, the sound of the current grew louder. Deafening. Consuming me.

a/n: l comment and lmk what u think pookiesss

comments + reblogs are greatly appreciated!!

I obviously do not own jjk or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

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wanna join the taglist?| mlol; chapter index

[lo-aksgf]

love your fics 🥺 may i request a part 2 of the where you cry in an argument? 👌 this close to swinging on ao’nung fr tho

WHEN YOU CRY DURING AN ARGUMENT

part 2 !

warnings ; horrible writing, not proofread, wrote it in 20 minutes or less, tsireya being cute and neteyam too 🤷🏻‍♀️, ao’nung and reader lowkey toxic NGL!!

notes ; the necklace that i imagined neteyam made was one of those necklaces that have the shells around it? if you don’t know what i’m talking about just use your imagination! also the ao’nung part is not nsfw so please don’t think of it like that, please and thanks 🫶

NETEYAM

it had been a good nights sleep since you and neteyam had your little argument, he laid in bed all night thinking of ways to cheer you up until he finally thought of the perfect idea

neteyam woke up earlier than usual, heading out towards the water. going on a hunt for enough shells to make you a necklace, he always noticed the bare of your neck where nothing sat, so he made it his mission to make the prettiest necklace for the prettiest person.

after he had found identical shells, he went back home to make it.

he searched around the island for you, finally spotting you and his sister, tuk in the water picking out the prettiest shells out of the handful you both had. neteyam admired that you hung out with his little sister and made time for her even when you were busy.

neteyam stood and watched you and tuk pick out the prettiest ones you liked, tuk had to go with neytiri for some reason. so neteyam finally had his time with just you without his siblings around

you were now both standing knee high in the water, “i said i would make it up to you, so i made you this” he said revealing the necklace he had hiding behind his back, you were stunned. the fact he actually made this for you had your jaw on the floor, “it’s so pretty!” you said smiling widely “like you,” he said smugly, you blushed and broke the eye contact “stop” you laughed, neteyam joining in. “turn around” he ordered, putting the necklace around your neck, twirling you around and placing a quick bit passionate kiss to your lips.

TSIREYA

it had been a couple days since your argument, tsireya had been spending all her free time around you. being extra affectionate, you knew this was because of what had happened but you couldn’t help but love this side of her.

she had even been distant with lo’ak, he kind of understood why because neteyam had told him after you had broke down and told him (just pretend neteyams your best friend here lmao)

“look! this shell is beautiful” tsireya said reaching the surface of the water, you and tsireya had little ‘dates’ where you’d both search for the nicest shells in the reef.

“new one to the collection?” you asked, she nodded smiling, you and the girl were only a couple inches away from eachother.

“can i kiss you?” she asked, you nodded eagerly even though you and tsireya had shared atleast 10 kisses that day.

you both got over the argument extremely quick, tsireya isn’t the type to hold a grudge, especially on the person she loves most.

sorry it’s short, there’s not much to write of tsireya because she loves you so she forgave you with no doubts!

AO’NUNG

ao’nung had been doing everything to try and talk to you but you were just not having it, glaring at him everytime he made his way towards you, causing him to turn around and walk away knowing you don’t want to talk.

but a couple days later he finally got the courage to just talk to you, no matter how mad you were.

“y/n!” he spoke loudly, walking towards you at a quick pace. you turning around at the call of your name

“what do you want?” you spat, glaring up at him

“i want to say i’m sorry, i did not mean to hurt you” the confidence of telling you how it was, was gone. he was genuinely upset that you were mad at him

“well if you didn’t mean to hurt me you wouldn’t have said it!” you yelled angrily, turning on him again to walk away.

“y/n wait-” ao’nung said as he grabbed your arm, earning a slap in the face from you as you turned to him. “if you want to make it up to me, stop being such a bitch” you had learnt that word from lo’ak, apparently it meant something really offensive and you finally found a way to use it.

“you’re being a bitch” he laughed, you didn’t know why he was laughing and you were about to go off at him, “no i am not! why-” ao’nung cut you off as he pulled you by the throat into a kiss, you didn’t want to kiss him but you couldn’t help it since he is still your boyfriend after all.

pulling away you huffed in annoyance, grabbing your throat from where he had grabbed it “did i hurt you?” he said in slight concern “no, just felt weird” you laughed, you really didn’t want to forgive him either but you couldn’t help it.

[maraschinomerry]

Hey! Can you write a george karim x reader fic with the “learning how to kiss” prompt?

Important Research

Pairings: George Karim x gn!reader, mentions of Locklyle

Summary: You've fallen for your fellow researcher but are scared to act on it in case your lack of experience is off-putting. Little do you know, he feels the same and has decided to do what he does best to resolve it...

Content: kissing, misunderstandings, angst with a happy ending

A/N: thank you so much for requesting! This is my first ever reader fic and it kind of got away from me, ngl, but I really hope you like it and constructive feedback is appreciated! Especially on the fact I used (name) to be where you'd insert your name, I found I like it that way when reading but do people prefer that, y/n or something else?

Word count: 2.7k

"Morning Georgie!" you chirped as you entered the kitchen of 35 Portland Row, smiling at the dishevelled figure at the dining table. It was clear he'd been up most of the night trying to research for your next case - dark circles barely offset by the glint from his crooked glasses, curly hair sticking out more than usual (you knew it only ever did this when he'd just woken up, which didn't appear as likely, or when he'd been running his hands through it in frustration), empty mug by the elbow he was using to prop himself up. The poor boy was running on caffeine. "Coffee?" you offered as you clicked the kettle on.

"Mmh," he mumbled, before realising he was in an actual conversation and not just talking to himself. "Thanks." You leant over to take his cup, fingers brushing the bare skin of his forearm, and you felt him unexpectedly twitch. The dark brown rings in the bottom of the mug had set firmly, he must have zoned out hours ago, so you fetched two clean ones and a couple of plates. If he hadn't made more coffee, he definitely hadn't eaten. Toast would do.

George was staring at the Thinking Cloth, willing his eyes to focus. He was vaguely aware of the sounds of you bustling about the kitchen, quietly humming to yourself, but beyond that his senses seemed to have abandoned him. Wait, perhaps not quite all. Suddenly, he registered the scent of coffee and something citrus. He forced himself to tune back in just as you pulled away, leaving behind a steaming cup and a plate of marmalade toast, sliced on the diagonal just how he liked it. You took a seat opposite him with a matching breakfast and a matching smile.

"Thanks, (name)."

"No problem. How's the research coming along?"

He sighed. "Not great. I need to cross-reference these sightings with that date we found at the Archives yesterday, but since they wouldn't let us take a copy of the file I've forgotten what it was so I'll have to go back again and check." You pushed back your chair and stood up with a bounce. He knew how much you shared his passion for research and loved the way you'd always listen to his ideas and share yours in return, but he didn't want you abandoning your plans for the day to fix his mistake. "It's fine, I'll go as soon as I've-" Hold on. You hadn't gone to the door. You'd come round to his side of the table.

"I wrote it down for you!" You were unable to contain your excitement. Leaning over his shoulder, you pushed his mug to the side to reveal a patch of your handwriting amongst the mess of his: "8th February 1986". He turned to you in awe and his breath caught in his throat.

Your face was so incredibly close to his, jawline curving gently past the tip of his nose as you beamed down at your handiwork. The fibres of your jumper tickled his cheek where it almost met your chest, and marmalade and coffee was replaced by the familiar scent of lavender and mint that he knew was uniquely you. When you turned to gauge his reaction at this new development, you narrowly missed bumping your noses together. You didn't pull away.

"You're incredible," he murmured. Oh god. "I mean… you're an incredible researcher… saved me a trip… thank you." Seeing him fumble his words, a band of pink spreading from his cheeks all the way up to the tips of his ears, was adorable. Finally you stepped back, and he was both relieved and disappointed until you gently booped the end of his nose and his brain short-circuited too much to decide how he felt.

—

Lockwood sauntered into the library. It had been a couple of days since you'd all wrapped up the last case, but he'd been so busy with paperwork and restocking that now he was ready to use this rare afternoon off to catch up on the news from around town with a magazine, alone in his favourite armchair. Instead he was met by you, curled up in the other chair. Your knees were tucked up to the bottom of the cushion you had clutched to your chest, and your chin was buried in the top of it. In all your time with the agency, even after the worst cases, he'd never seen you like this.

"Everything okay?" The question was soft, tender, but it still startled you. You began to hastily unfurl until you realised who it was, at which point you folded back in on yourself. Lockwood took that as a no. He made his way over to the armchair, knowing that if you wanted to talk about whatever was bothering you, you would in your own time. The silence was tense but not uncomfortable. Eventually, you spoke, voice barely above a whisper.

"I think George hates me."

Lockwood faltered.

What?

George?

The George who turned almost crimson every time you smiled at him? The George who claimed to hate physical contact, but linked arms with you whenever you went to the Archives together? The George who practically threw himself at a Wraith last week to protect you? The George who Lockwood had once caught face down on the Thinking Cloth after a particularly hard night, talking about you in his sleep? That George? He caught himself just before scoffing and saying you were being ridiculous. That wouldn't help matters.

"What makes you say that?" He prompted. Perhaps if he got to the root of your doubts he could help resolve them.

"I don't know, I just…" You huffed out a breath, already embarrassed by what you were about to let out. "Things were going so well and I really thought we were starting to get close. Like close close. So I tried leaning into it a little more but I can't follow through." The words were rushing out of you now, far too quickly for you to claw them back in before you said too much. "I really want to kiss him but I've never done that before so I don't want to scare him off, but I think I already have because I pushed things too far and now he keeps avoiding me. Like last night at dinner he could barely look at me and this morning he said he had to go and find some books but he wouldn't let me go with him and why would he do that unless I made him uncomfortable and now he doesn't want to be around me?"

Lockwood, who was being hit with a strong wave of déjà vu, had a good idea why George would do that.

"How did you know how to kiss Lucy the right way?"

The night before, the two boys had been in the basement, checking over their supplies, when George asked the question out of nowhere.

Lockwood chuckled, taken aback. "I don't think there really is a right way, mate."

"But you have to have done it properly, Lucy said it was like fireworks!" His words were complimentary (Lockwood almost preened as he'd never heard Lucy's side of their first kiss) but his tone was exasperated, almost bitter.

"Is this about (name)?" George opened his mouth and closed it again, his cheeks burning. That answered that. "You're not exactly subtle, George, and neither are they. I'm pretty sure they like you, and you know each other well enough that if you do decide to go for it, you'll be able to pick up on the cues they give off to tell you whether you're doing what's right for them. Hell, you do it when we're on cases, don't you?"

George pondered this for a moment. Lockwood had a point. When you were out, you often didn't even have to say a single word to know what the other was thinking, moving as one in moves that would have seemed choreographed to anyone who watched. But figuring all that out had been nearly a year in the making, and he didn't want to wait another year to make sure he got this right. He needed a head start.

"I'll be leaving early tomorrow morning. Beat the rush at the Archives. You won't… you won't tell them about this, will you?"

Lockwood swore he wouldn't.

True to his word, Lockwood divulged none of the previous night's events, as much as it would have put your mind at ease.

"I promise, he doesn't hate you. Maybe you should go and talk to him, prove it to yourself. I think he's in his room."

—

A delicate knock sounded on George's door.

"Come in," he called on instinct, head still buried in his book.

You tentatively opened the door, noticing the familiar smell of coffee and ginger biscuits before your eyes were drawn to the bed. George was laid on his stomach, one book in his hand and a couple of others scattered by his side. He smiled softly up at you as you lingered in the doorway.

"I'm not interrupting, am I?" you asked.

"No, not at all, I'm just doing… some research. Nothing important." He'd paused in the middle of the sentence, quickly glancing from you to the book he was holding. His eyes widened a little and he hurriedly shoved them off the edge of the bed and kicked them under. With a deep breath to steady himself, he patted the space next to him. You made your way over, eyes trained on the floor.

He was so close you could have reached out and got this all over with in seconds. But you couldn't. Although your talk with Lockwood had been encouraging, you still weren't sure how far you were from the brink of pushing George away forever, a prospect you couldn't fathom. So you sat, fidgeting with your hands in your lap, trying to focus in spite of the dark eyes piercing into your very soul just inches away. Silence filled the close confines of the room.

"So…" George began hesitantly. "Did you want to talk to me about something?"

You bit your lip. "Yes. Um." You'd never been good at this bit. "Are we okay? I feel like you've been distant recently, and I- I miss you, Georgie. I thought maybe it was because I'd started getting more flirty and touchy with you and I know that isn't really your thing so if I've done something to make you uncomfortable-"

"Oh," George said simply. You balked. This was a mistake. Even if he ever wanted to speak to you again you'd be too embarrassed to do so. Tears began to prick at the corner of your eyes. You desperately hoped that George wouldn't notice. He did.

Seeing you on the verge of tears made something clench in George's chest. He'd seen you cry before, but had never been the cause and he hated knowing that this time he was.

"Wait no, please, I'm sorry," he fumbled. He had no idea how he was going to say what he needed to, but he couldn't stand another second of you being so upset. Cautiously, he reached his hand out towards yours, leaving it open to allow you to come to him. In case you were still unsure. In case he'd misread things. His heart leapt when he felt your fingers entwine with his. Allowing it to spur him on, he grounded himself by stroking his thumb across yours.

"I never wanted to push you away." Although he was assured of what he was saying, you couldn't help but miss the snarky confidence which usually laced his speech. "In fact I wanted you even closer." You both blushed. "But I was so worried that I was misreading things, and I don't know if you've realised but I have no idea what I'm doing and I didn't want to make things weird."

You giggled, a slight sniffle escaping as you wiped away the remnants of your tears. For such talented, intelligent researchers, you two really were idiots. "I was thinking the same thing! I don't have a clue about the right way to do all…" you nodded to your interlinked hands, "...this."

"Oh, Lockwood said there isn't really a right way."

You rolled your eyes. Trust Lockwood to have sent you up here for answers without so much as a hint that he'd already discussed it with George. Then again, here you were. You rescinded your eye roll and gave him a silent thanks.

"It's all well and good him saying that, look at how well it's going with Lucy!" You both laughed, the sound dissipating the last of the tension in the room. Testing the waters a little more, you leaned closer into George's side, breath hitching as he unlinked his hand from yours, taking it back with his other and wrapping his arm around your waist.

"That's why I thought it was worth doing a little extra research," he smirked. You gave him a puzzled look, and he toed out one of the books he'd kicked under the bed. It was a guide to body language. Below it, the corner of another book showed the word 'romance'. So that was why he went looking for books without you. The thought of him doing all this for you was so overwhelming, you nearly kissed him right there, but surely in one of those books it would have said something about a little build-up, right?

"Well you know," you raised your gaze from the books to his, allowing it to slide down to his lips and revelling in the fact that his did the same, "as important as research is, true science is incomplete without experimentation." By now your noses were touching, his breath fanning across your face. Your thoughts flickered briefly to George, in his apron and gloves, testing out the skull at different temperatures in the oven. It was one of the first moments that had endeared him to you. You smiled against his lips.

"I do love experimentation," he grinned, closing the gap between you.

His lips were a little chapped, but the kiss was soft and gentle as though he were still afraid you'd run away. The whole time, he hadn't let go of your hand, his other still around your waist, and you brought your free hand up to press against the nape of his neck, one finger brushing into his curls. His kisses were brief, uncertain, trying to pick up on all the cues you might be giving off while thoroughly distracted by the long-awaited sensation of your lips on his, but as you applied a little more pressure behind his head he immediately knew to tighten his grip on your waist and deepen the kiss. You gasped a little against him, and he began to pull back to make sure you were okay until your lips followed his. As you leaned closer, you teetered on the edge of the bed and frantically unclasped your hands to steady yourself. With a chuckle, George shifted himself back until he was resting against the headboard and took your hand once again to lead you into his lap. You met him eagerly. Both his hands now wrapped around your waist, thumbs rubbing rhythmically across your sides. Emboldened, you twisted your grip further into his hair and were pleasantly surprised when he moaned against your lips, a motion which gave you the faintest taste of those ginger biscuits.

Eventually, you pulled apart for breath, hands never leaving each other and foreheads pressed together. His rich brown eyes were darker than ever, sparkling up at you through his eyelashes.

"And that," you stopped to inhale a lungful of air, "is the dedication to research that makes us such a successful agency." You tried so hard to feign professionalism, but were undermined by rosy cheeks and a playful smile.

George leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose. "Absolutely, I take my job incredibly seriously." Another kiss. "But in this case, I think I have to admit that Lockwood was right." You clasped a hand to your chest in pretend shock. George laughed and pulled you into a hug. "Don't tell him I said that."

[kairiscorner]

spider-noir x spider!reader with like,, angst/comfort and fluff. just tenderness with Noir after a pretty rough mission with a tinge of injuries and bruises; but Noir was afraid to loose them, so he kinda just-- holds them close??

HELLOOOOOO that's a cute idea ngl, I LOVE IT??? AAJSKDKLDMDIFLELD I HOPE I DO THIS JUSTICE, AND I HOPE YOU LIKE IT TOO :DDD

btw this is kind of a post-divorce fic, though it's not exactly the second part of the first one i made, just wanted to up the angst a little :'))

the remedy to all my ailments -- spider noir x reader

summary: peter shows up at your doorstep for the first time after your divorce with him–and he's a wreck. you're the only one he can turn to as the rain pours and his battered body can't take care of himself right now, but his wounds aren't all that has to be taken care of right now; it's also the things he never told you that need taking care of. word count: 978

content warnings! mentions of blood, bleeding, and depictions of wounds, please don't read any further if you are uncomfortable with these themes ^^

the rain poured endlessly as peter staggered home weakly, his leg limping as the shrapnel that pierced him dug deeper into the flesh of his side–he grunted and heaved as the rain water that ran down his body went from a clear, transparent to a murky red as he hobbled over to the doorstep of your home; the home that he swore never to come back to after he... after he decided you'd be better off without him.

you were in the comfort of your living room, with thoughts of peter entering your mind ever so often–but you tried to shun those thoughts away, why waste time thinking about him when he probably never thinks of you anymore? you aren't his spouse, of course, he wouldn't need to be concerned anymore. and you figured you shouldn't be, because why... why should you be, right? you're strangers now, that's all you two are to each other.

well, fate has a funny way of bringing strangers together. because at that moment when you swore off thinking about how he's doing amid the pouring rain, you heard the doorbell chime. you got up, a bit perplexed since you weren't expecting any visitors–let alone amidst the torrential downpour outside–but you decides to answer the door anyway, forgetting your practice of checking the peephole for who it may be.

"who–oh." you were about to ask who could possibly have wanted to visit you at this time, when the rain worsened and wouldn't let up–and there, right before you, was none other than him. he, in his gray and black clad ensemble of clothing–draped in shadows from head to toe–concealing him as he assimilates into the darkness in his limping figure.

he was hunched over, struggling to speak or get up–miraculously, you knew peter well enough from all those years you two had been married to understand he needed help. you hurriedly tried helping him up, lifting him the best you could despite his weight pushing you down. he groaned aloud at how much you moved him, the shrapnel stabbing further into his sides.

as you took out the first aid kits and all to help patch him up, you took note of how... forlorn he appeared. peter must've lost to his adversary this time, hence his wounds, but–almost as if he read your mind in that situation–peter spoke up. "i didn't lose this time. i just... wore myself too thin." he said as you took the shrapnel out of his sides as carefully as you could.

peter groaned lightly ever so often, he tried his hardest not to show you he was getting hurt, but he can only hide it for so long. "...i'm sorry if it hurts." you said as you put antiseptic ointment on his open wounds after pouring clean water on them. he breathed in sharply through his teeth, and nodded. "it's okay. i'm... sorry too. that you have to–have to deal with me, even after... you know what already." he said as you wrapped his side around with a gauze.

you then noticed peter's battered abdomen as you were wrapping him up, you didn't dare to count them, the number would have you down on your knees and shaking. you tried your hardest not to apply too much pressure, but peter held your wrist and looked at your anxious face. "please, don't hold back." he pleaded with you, to which you reluctantly nodded and wrapped him up tightly.

after you treated him, you expected peter to get out of your door and disappear into the cold, rainy night again and... only see you when he needs to. but he didn't leave, he just stood there in front of you, with his head hung low as he stared at the fibers of your carpeted floors.

"pete, you can go now." you said as you placed your hand on peter's shoulder, but he didn't rise his head nor answer you; he just kept staring at the carpeted floors that you laid out together years ago–as if his reason to stay was engraved in every fiber he took note of.

you sighed as you tried to help peter get up, but he didn't budge. you took his hand in yours in a stubborn effort to get him to stand up and walk out that door, but instead getting up to leave... he gently took your wrist in his grasp and pulled you closer to him. before you knew it, you were wrapped in peter's embrace–it should've been warm, but peter was so, so cold. he buried his face in your hair and his nose in the crook of your neck, and whispered repeatedly, "this is why you should never have loved me."

and it was then that you realized a small glimmer of the truth–the reason why he divorced you, crush led your heart and left everything you two have ever made and loved together with you wasn't because he didn't love you anymore, but because... he loved you too much to watch you crumble before him every time he'd come home like this; he wasn't ready to lose you before you'd lose him.

he'd rather let himself die, cold and alone in the rain, than die with you by his side and leave his beloved spouse with a broken heart that may never heal–all because of him. he cried into your shoulder as he sobbed messy apologies into your ear, many of which all had the words, 'you're better off' and 'all my fault' in them.

he's not expecting forgiveness, he doesn't expect you to fully understand either why he did what he had to do–but instead, he hopes you'll do what he thinks is best for you both: to live your life and forget he was ever a part of it, so in case he's gone... you won't get hurt.

a/n: 😃 i'm not sorry

tags !! @thecoolerdor @miguelswifey04 @sabcandoit @binibinileonara @k4tsu3 @fiannee @fictarian @yuridopted0 @maxoloqy @luvstarrstruck @thee-fantastic-mrfox

[katsune-nya]

Matsuno Chifuyu x Baji!Reader. D-drable?

Ok, listen, I have a WHOLE fic about Baji!Reader x Chifuyu on the WIPs, so, this is just... Um... Me kinda babbling about the lore behind it. (The fic is fem reader tho).

GN!Reader. SFW. Fix It Fic. Idiots In Love. Baji being y'all's number one fan.

• Ryoko used to go to the Sano Dojo, after she had you two she signed you into it as well.

• Kei and you grew up with Mikey, y'all were a pain in the ass for everyone around you, but grandpa Sano tolerated it since y'all were great students.

• Shin got scolded tripple by his grandpa, these three kids showed up every class and were so good at it and... There he was.

• Power Duo, y'all can kick ass tremendously.

• When Kei and Tora plan to steal a bike for Mikey you just... Tell them no. Plus, mfs, did you not know that's SHINICHIRO'S SHOP????

• Nothing happens, Shin's alive and Tora ok.

• You go to the same school, when Fuyu met Kei, helping him write the letter for Tora, you were on recess with your friends.

• Regardless, later on, since they were always together you ended up meeting him

• You couldn't lie... He was really cute.

• Fuyu's first reaction when meeting you was to be slightly intimidated ngl.

• You had grown up with Baji Fucking Keisuke and Baji Fucking Ryoko, you HAD to build a strong presence.

• Kei introduced you two and Fuyu was just "H-Hi, Baji-san... Baji-san 2? W-wait, no! That's not what I meant!"

• Poor boy.

• Friendship quickly blossomed!

• And a mutual crush, definitely.

• Keisuke knew from the beginning, in spite of him being fucking iliterate he's actually incredibly smart and perceptive.

• He tried to get y'all together so many times but all his plans failed.

• He even got the rest of Toman involved.

• Then, the whole Kisaki thing started.

• Kei and you knew the mf was suspicious asf.

• And him instead of working together with you and Fuyu decided to go to Valhalla for info and yeah...

• But! We have a new character! That actually has a relatively functional brain!

• Welcome, Baji Y/N, you are their only hope.

• While evetone was freaking out on different degrees you took it on your hands to encourage them.

Y/N: Everything will be ok. You can not stop it.

Y/N: Everything will be fine. You have no choice.

Chifuyu: What the fuck kind of pep talk is that?

Y/N: Ominous positivity.

• Kazutora aproves.

• Yeah, as I said, relatively functional brain.

• You joined the guys on the Valhalla brawl.

• If you're AFAB it was kinda hard to convince them 'cause "But you're a girl 🥺 you could get hurt, uwu." Mikey. (If you're FtM he wouldn't say girl, dw lmao, you're his dude bro but... Sigh...)

• In the end Draken doesn't wanna deal with you up their asses about it so he convinces Mikey, you're just as strong as Keisuke ffs.

• Yall win and Kei comes back.

Kei: A decision had to be made.

Y/N: And you fucked it up!

• He's so dumb for a smart person.

• You and Fuyu hang out more together.

• You two help Takemichi with his plans and you have better ideas than them so things go much better.

• Tora and Kei join you too.

• Blah Blah Blah, lore lore lore, y'all fix things, no one dies, ok? I won't go into detail for every issue, this is about my babyboy.

• All throughout this Fuyu and you keep getting closer and closer.

• Y'all hang out even when not necessary to save everyone.

• He doesn't even hang out with Kei on his own as much. You normally are there too.

Kei: *sneaking in through their window*

Y/N: *Turning in their chair and flicking the light on* You want to tell me where you've been all night?

Kei: I was with Chifuyu?

Chifuyu: *Turning in his chair* Wanna try again?

• You spend so much time together Toman thinks you're an item already.

• When Kei says you're not they are so... Ugh. Still?

Kei: *Sees Y/N and Chifuyu together*

Kei: They're cute. I would put them on a boat.

Kazutora: You mean... you ship them?

• Kei and Tora make all of Toman design an unnecessarily complex plan to get y'all to confess.

• Just for you two to show up holding hands????

• Turns out you got tired of it and just confessed to Fuyu in the park you normally go to.

• You planned a picnic together and gave him a home baked treat with a little note on it.

• He blushed so hard and between stutters and a bright smile accepted.

• Congratulations!

• They are so frustrated that they put so much work into things but honestly more relieved than anything.

• Your relationship is so cute.

• You're always together, go on arcade dates, cat cafés, park dates, saving everyone plans, home dates in which each one does their own thing.

• It takes five months for y'all to kiss.

• Was really sweet, really gay.

• Time Skip to highschool graduation.

• You two go together and at the end of the day Fuyu takes you on a ride around the city.

• Y'all might be young, but have been dating for around 5 years so Fuyu stops at the beach and stares at you.

• You tease him for it and he chuckles shyly.

• Then he asks if you would like to move out with him to the apartment he got with his job in a pet store.

• So now you live together!

• After some time, Chifuyu has his own store in which Tora and Kei work, with you going to visit him for lunch.

• You're 25 now, living together, 10 years dating...

• On your 10 year anniversary he finally pops the question.

• He took you to the park where you confessed, the both of you sitting on the swings.

• When you stayed quiet for a bit he suddently got on his knees.

• He had a whole speech but he just... Said what came out on the moment.

"Ever since we started dating I've known you were the one. I want to be with no one else but you. You make me the happiest I've ever been. Would you give me the honour of doing it for the rest of our lives?"

• When you get married, Keisuke walks you to the altar.

• When Fuyu sees you he instantly starts tearing up.

• Kei laughs and slaps him on the back.

• The wedding is short and romantic, Takemichi sobbing his eyes out.

• When you throw the bouquet Hina catches it!

• Everyone celebrates that so much.

• In the end, you have a beautiful marriage and a few cats.

Some incorrect quotes that encapsulate y'all's relationships.

Kei: Hey, wanna help me commit arson?

Y/N: What the hell!?

Kei: Oh, sorry, my bad.

Kei: *Whispering* Wanna help me commit arson?

Y/N: *Whispering* Of course. What do you need?

Y/N: This is a bad idea.

Kei: Then why are you coming along?

Y/N: Someone has to get your injured ass home.

Kei: I love you.

Y/N: *Zoning out* What?

Kei: I said I’m selling you to the zOo-

*To Chifuyu*

Kei: Thought I was meowing back at Peke J for the past hour, but it was just me and Y/N meowing at each other from different rooms in the house.

Kei: Are you busy?

Y/N: Yes.

Kei: Cool, listen to this...

Kei: I got an idea!

Y/N: Does it involve breaking the law?

Kei: By now don’t you think that’s a given?

Y/N: I was just trying to be optimistic.

Kei: Don’t bother.

*About the Baji siblings*

Mitsuya: Who's in charge there?

Chifuyu: Usually whoever yells the loudest.

Y/N: I told Kei that his ears turn red when he lies.

Chifuyu: Oh, they do?

Y/N: No.

Chifuyu: Then why did you tell him that?

Y/N: Because I can do this.

Y/N: Hey Kei! Do you love us?

Kei: *With his hands over his ears* No.

Chifuyu: What would Y/N think?

Kei: Ok, that’s an interesting thought, but hear me out: what if… we ran an experiment where we spent the rest of our lives finding out what happened if we never told them?

Chifuyu: Do you guys ever have a civilized conversation that doesn't require insulting each other every time you get a chance?

Kei: No.

Y/N: No.

Chifuyu: Didn't think so.

Kei: Why don’t you go talk to them?

Chifuyu: *Sarcastically* Oh. Yeah, sure.

Baji: What? Just go tell Y/N they're cute, what’s the worst that could happen?

Chifuyu: They could hear me.

Y/N: Kill me nowwwww.

Kei: Sorry, no can do. I need your help with my homework.

Y/N: *Watching Chifuyu do something stupid* Keisuke, you're officially only the second highest risk here.

Kei: Hell yeah! I'm gonna-.

Y/N: Don't finish that sentence, you'll move back up.

[ruthlesslistener]

do you have any headcanons for anything you've been holding onto, but haven't had a good chance to post about? I love your fics and I wanna peer into your mind palace

Shhdhchs EXCELLENT bc ive had a lot of thoughts but this quarter + anxiety in general has been killin me

-Okay so I'm still hyperfixated on Destiny 2 bc of a DnDestiny game I'm in, but since Hollow Knight is a special interest and I read a couple of frankly stunning crossover fics (one with the Inheritance Cycle, one with Transformers, both are outstanding and I will recc them wholeheartedly if you ask- the TF one especially blew my tits clean off which is saying something bc I have zero TF knowledge, also its 500k words but I'm rambling), my brain has been essentially locked into the concept of a crossover AU where a couple of my D2 OCs get slingshot into the HK world via a fucked-up warpgate through wish-dragon magic, and it's now got me kind of obsessed with the idea of the world of Hollow Knight taking place on an alien planet that had some convergent evolution re: general insect body plans, but went off the fuckin' rails with everything else. So here's some worldbuilding thoughts on that:

-Their planet would be far from Earth and the origin place of the Ahamkara and precursor race to the Worm Gods, who are distant relatives to each other that took to the stars to opportunistically feed off of rifts in reality. They are in turn sister taxa to the Wyrms and Higher Beings from Hollow Knight, who also feed off of the wants, desires, and gulf between what-is-desired-and-what-is-true, but unlike the worms and wish-dragons, the Higher Beings are essentially 'settled' species. They're the farming civilization to the hunter-gatherers of their Destiny-based kindred, and yes, both branches of the family tree fucking despise each other and look down scornfully on the other's lifestyle. The Higher Beings view the Worms and Ahamkara as little more than scavengers, while the Worms and Ahamkara see the Higher Beings as glorified slavedrivers with sticks up their asses- though it should be noted that since the Ahamkara's whole deal so far has been malignant trickery as a hunting style, this doesn't neccessarily carry the same negative connotations that it would in our society. I also don't know enough about the proto-Worms to say how their race would react, but the Worm Gods as they are now certainly are something that Wyrms would look down on

-(Yes that means I have thought extensively about the Pale King's ghost bristling aggressively at a baby ahamkara barely a few hours old. In my defense, it's funny, and also I almost never remember to write him as the cold, prickly, arrogant ass that he is bc his kids make him Big Sad)

-The planet would likely be smaller than Earth with lighter gravity, though how much smaller I can't say because I'm not a fuckin' physicist. I just want an excuse for making fuckoff-huge animals a thing even beyond the inherent space magic thing going on

-Oh, and most life is underground because the atmosphere is thinner than Earth and so the upper surface gets bombarded with deadly amounts of radiation, which causes the mind-wiping effects of the Wastes (where the angle towards their sun is the greatest and thus the strongest). Ngl I did briefly think about potential magnetic field fluxes also being the cause of that effect but like, I cannot overstate how little I know of things outside biology

-HK being set on an alien planet lets me do wack shit with the species there too bc I'm no longer bound by comparing them to Earthbound species. For example, I can make Quirrel an isopod with cricket legs. Who's going to stop me, God? He doesn't exist here

-That also means I can stop being bothered by Herrah's dubious leg placement bc it would kill me forever otherwise

-Also, them being on an alien planet gives me even more of an excuse to never put traditional vertebrate species in there, which is great. I've said it before, but putting Earth vertebrates in the HK setting totally ruins all the fun for me because I love the concept of all the species diversity being made up of invertebrates, and that the 'advanced' bugs we see have filled the niche that vertebrates would have otherwise taken over. Like the carboniferous period but on steroids

General HK thoughts too:

-been toying with the idea of wyrms having a set of evertable inner jaws like polychaete worms, which would be used for keeping dirt out of the mouth and biting off chunks to eat, while the outer jaws (the ones we see) are used for killing, digging, and sparring with other wyrms. The idea is that the outer ring of mandibles bites big circular chunks out of the substrate, which then breaks off into tiny pieces they filter out in between gaps in their mandibles and pack down into tunnel walls as they move forward

-I've also been toying with the idea of them secreting some kind of mucus as they dig that's almost a calcifying substance, but now that I think about it, I can probs just put those glands in their frontal mouth so if they need to reinforce a tunnel (like, say, one burrowed in sand instead of rock), they can mix their saliva in with the substrate to chemically solidify the tunnel walls

-Which btw is a major thing for ecosystems bc the tunnels are used for lots of different things by lots of different species. Wyrms are terraformers baybee!! Kinda the same way wildfires are, but still

-I've also been thinking about maybe making it so that the row of plates I like to draw on their backs act as a secondary pair of belly scutes, which means that wyrms can slither just as easily upside down as they can on their undersides, which helps underground. It's not as efficient as the super-smooth scales on a blind snake, but that's the tradeoff they get for needing to be so heavily armoured

-I'm also leaning towards making marine/freshwater variants that are just straight-up bobbit worms on even more steroids, but since I already have fuckoff huge marine alien bobbit worms in a scifi setting of mine, I'd need to figure out a way to make them unique

-I learned that there's internalized folds of exoskeleton for muscle attatchment in my invertebrate biology course and got really excited about that being a potential basis for the formation of skeletal elements in the world of Hollow Knight- like, maybe bug bones started off as those lil folds (i forgot their technical name which is embaressing bc i literally just took the final this night) becoming stronger and deeper-set into the body to better support the weight of larger and larger bugs, and then it spiraled into a skeleton analogue from there. Being derived from the exoskeleton probably means that it would be less strong than our bones, but it would likely also be lighter

Misc:

-God I really need to write Hornet in Silksong so bad. Fuck. I need need need to write this mildly autistic unsocialized princess running amok in a civilization that isn't ready for her. Also my interpretation of Lace is basically an oc at this point but I don't want to do anything with her just yet bc that shits a lot of work, I just need to write everything down for her so far (and tbh Lurien probs also counts at this point but thats more filling a niche that TC left unfufilled)

-I've also got gijinka thoughts in that I'm leaning towards making Lurien a trans guy who didn't have any gender-affirming surgeries bc a.) I love love love making a variety of trans characters and b.) Hallownest isn't a society where the concept of being transgender is an issue, so there's no need to do it to pass, only to prioritize your own comfort. And since Lurien never expected to be seen in anything but his formalware, he never saw the point of bothering

-(The aformentioned point also applies to normal bug Lurien but this is more of a personal thing here)

-Need to focus more on how the latent magic of the god of a realm changes your eye colour, with the more intense the shade = the more involved you are with their magic. Using Lurien as an example again: his eyes were brown naturally, but after he became Watcher, they slowly shifted to shades of paler and paler blue. I also like the idea of Quirrel's eyes getting more blue the more memories of Hallownest he unlocks, until they're the same shade as the Blue Lake in his final scene

-This can also happen in reverse; for example, my Lace gijinka starts off with gold eyes to signify the church of Pharloom's hold over her, but then slowly revert back to brown as Hornet gives her more and more hope that the institution can be toppled, until they're eventually their natural deep brown with just the faintest flecks of silver in them (signifying Hornet's importance in her life)

-It just occurred to me the other day when I was at work that Striga and Morgana from Castlevania S3 are almost exactly how I imagined my Vespa and Herrah gijinkas to be and now I can't stop thinking about it. The main difference is that my Herrah is a fat spider-orc with tats and Vespa is a fae queen with bee features shimmering through her human veil, but still. Its uncanny

[constesplanetarium]

☼⚠︎ Marcus (Yandere! Bartender) x Reader Canons

his small "fic" is down below :)

Right here! Take a look please :)

if ur new here. i suggest reading the oneshot ver. of him to understand the story a bit better. totally not necessary though!!!

Right here!

the story may not fully collide, but its fine :) treat this as the new canon, if you will

✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

CONTENT WARNINGS!!!

Mentions of stalking.

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

Both of you knew each other for a long time, but had never sat together to just sit and talk.

You were always busy with other things, including your ever-possessive best friend.

It wasn’t until college that you two had a class together, and decided to team up on a project together, since neither of you knew anyone else.

He hadn’t thought you were anyone special at first. Just someone riding off the work he was doing for the project.

That was the first time. Nothing special.

Then it happened again, later in the semester.

And again.

On the fourth time, he had known you for a little bit of time now, and he thought you were really nice!

He thought you were really, REALLY cute, but of course he wasn’t going to tell you that.

You both talked here and there, but it wasn't anything too crazy.

It wasn’t until you had to demand him to let you do some of the work, that he took an interest in you. Everyone just lets him do all the work, so why did you insist that you do some as well?

In all honesty, you just felt bad, and wanted to do your part. He had gotten you an A on all 3 projects in the past, after all. But he felt like there was something more. You were so sweet, and kind.

Oh wow…

As you turn back to your computer, typing away endlessly, he clenches his fist and looks away, strangely excited.

There was something there after that. Something special.

But he still had to know more.

He started watching you, even when he didn't realize he was doing it himself.

He even started following you to places where you would be, watching you in your "natural environment", as he called it.

Only then, did he get to know how much of a wonderful person you are, both inside and out.

He was hooked in an instant.

It didn’t take long for him to find out your hobbies, where you live, and every part of you, down to the last-minute detail.

Countless nights he was up thinking about you, thinking about how it could be to at least touch you, even once would be enough.

He even started taking your things to keep. His own little collection of you. Pens and pencils you’ve touched, old tests that you did that he stole from the teacher's desk, cups you’ve drank out of…

He had stalked you for months, so he even knew about your annoying best friend, and his habits too.

He couldn’t believe you hung around someone like that. He was so…

Fucking disgusting.

But he was just a small obstacle, really.

Imagine his excitement when you went into the bar that day? You didn’t notice, but his hands were trembling when he saw you outside the window.

He had to take his chance. He wanted you to know him so bad…

Keeping you in the bar after they had already closed was such a good idea, so you two could get to know each other more, one one-on-one.

He made you drink after drink in an attempt to please you, and he was so happy you liked all of it.

After he had dropped you off, he was so happy to have another piece of you. Sort of.

Two cherry stems and pits, that he took from your delicious shirley temples.

He couldn’t wait to get more. So much more of you.

What a dream come true...

ngl i dont like how this turned out but WHATEVER!!!

[desb3ar]

ok this was originally gonna be an anon post but i decided to STOP BEING A PUSSY!!!!

your art of miggle is sooo osooooo osooooo sososoo coool..... i love the way you draw him so big but he also just looks sosososo soft and gentle!!!!! i saw the horror art and thats what really made me want to write this because ur ability to absolutely make him turn a 180 is awesome........ i remember seeing that art of him as a weighted blanket and tbh it really spoke to me because i'm autistic and ykw i want a big muscley bf (miguel) to lay on me and be my weighted blanket!!!!!!!!

and your nonviolent communication fanart is sooo good.... granted spoilers for me cus i haven't finished it yet (school unfortunately) but greensagephase must be elated everytime they see u post because i think you're bestowing a writer's greatest honor to have their fic have fanart!

AAAAAAND NOT TO MENTION U ARE A WRITER URSELF AND THATS AWESOME TOO i read all of your works and tehy'resoooo!!!! they're soooo!!!!!! YOU'RE KILLING ME HERE MAN it rlly adds depth to mig even if it's soso simple and domestic your talent really shines in both areas!!!!!!!

so... haha..... we are both artists and writers (x reader writers to be specific.... and we both like The Specimen.... whadya say... buddy..... mutuals???? 😊 (THISISSOLONG IM SORRY YOU CAN DELCINE IF YOU WNANA)

OMGOMGOMFOMG OFC WE CAN BE MUTUALS <333

im still so stunned i am even capable of turning miguel into this lovable guy. i dont even mean to 😭 i honestly thought i was doing the complete opposite because i wasnt meaning for him to be made out that way, which is funny and somewhat cute. many always say that and im always beside myself when it’s mentioned . him being some sort of weighted blanket, that drawing? one of my favorites ngl. i just might draw some more soft miguel, have them all in one post to relief dashboards of my spam LMFAO

i could go on and on about nonviolent communication. #1 fic of all time. I spent more time than id like to admit reading it, its that good. thats why i draw the things i do, its such an enjoyable read 😭 i gotta draw more of it instead of waiting on the next chapter because theres so many amazing moments i read that i really wanna put on the canvas. green deserves so much fanart for how well-constructed their story is and for the amazingly done writing that makes miguel come to life even more. it’s astounding, green is really the reason i was writing to start with ❤️☺️

on the subject of writing, ive GOT to write more, just need some ideas that isnt too far from how he is in canon (i love him for what ive seen, not because of the fantasies ive hd lmfao). writing takes so much thought and i commend those who take their time to make amazing pieces, i can barely crack 2k words without thinking this is a masterpiece when the talented can make 4k words and its only the mf START. ITS NUTS. but im not here to compare, just paying so much gratitude for authors on tumblr haa im rambling UGH

THANK YOU SM FOR THE KIND WORDS!! and dont worry, i dont get a lot of long messages in my inbox, its rare, so this means a lot more than you think <333

and amazing on having balls, respect <3

[pomefioredove]

Tbh I was reading the matchup info and now I have an idea for a fic 😂😂😂

But Seriously I really love your writings. I've been having a shitty time and when I read your stuff it gets better and mellows me out ❤️

Personality wise: I can be pretty calm, but I also have my exciting/ manic moments. Like cleaning my room at 3am (cries in bd sleeping schedule). People say I'm nice, and have a good energy. But if someone pushes me (metaphorically) I will push back. I can be petty if I get fed up enough. I get depressed easily and sometimes have trouble expressing myself. Which is weird because I kind of am the therapist friend. I don't talk about my feelings or self often. Sometimes I scare my friends unintentionally, like dropping random tidbits of my life that might sound or be a little traumatic. (I.e. that reminds me of the time my mom told me she would beat my ass if I cleaned her room wring again.) I can be pretty lazy, I sleep A LOT. I am a feminist, who is pretty used to red flags in people.

Interests/ Hobbies: I love reading and trying new art stuff. I am an English major and like learning about the dirty and scary sides of History. My favorite books to read right now are classical literature and disturbing horror books. Art wise I've been trying to get into air dry sculptures. I love to crochet. And when I feel like it I can cook and bake. Sometimes I roller skate, like once in a blue moon. I have trouble with homework sometimes, I can get really distracted. When I'm really tired I won't eat. I have body issues too (thanks mom 🥲). I used to be a vegetarian for almost 10 years. I stopped a couple years ago.

Relationship wise: I like people who are competent. Like, someone who knows their way around the house or are willing to learn. I like feminists. I don't like people who yell at me. When I get into a relationship, love bombing and honeymoon phase stuff kinda turn me off ngl. (Like why r you so free on a regular Tuesday afternoon. I give you butterflies? Digest them, want some pesto bismol? Here.) Ngl, it's like why should I have to come back from a full day of work/school and clean up after you and/or make dinner.

Lifestyle wise: No lie I have depression and anxiety and it can get pretty bad. There are times where I can't take care of myself as well as I wish. I will cry, if someone makes fun of me for it. I try to keep my area clean, when I get back from work/school I clean up a little then crash. I try to deep clean on weekends if I'm not swamped from school.

Specifics: No first or second years pls

Ty 💖💖💖

I match you with 𝐕𝐢𝐥 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐭

The First Impression:

One might assume that the first thing Vil notices in a person is their style, or their physical features, or even their body language.

Not really.

Vil absolutely judges people based on their competency, their skill, their dedication to themselves and their passions. And he can absolutely see that in you.

Why He Fell:

What initially attracts Vil is the challenge. He's always looking for new potential, and he can tell that you're both skilled and committed enough to meet his standards- but there's something holding you back. You're quite different from his past potatoes, and he's more than capable of taking a different approach to your case, one without the need for harshness.

Vil isn't one to pry, though he's able to piece together your situation from the random tidbits you drop on him, and soon, his pet project becomes more of a mission. Can't take care of yourself right now? That's fine, he'll do it for you. He'll find a way to create a perfectly manageable routine, fix your sleep schedule, help you with homework, and slowly ease you into a healthier lifestyle with him by your side.

Though he'd never admit it, Vil really likes the feeling of being needed, not just wanted. And, in time, he finds himself needing you and your company just as much.

The Relationship:

You cannot get more competent than Vil Schoenheit. Experience or not, he's a master at navigating relationships, and is more than willing to help you in that regard, as well. He's there at your best and worst, as you are for him- Vil considers the partnership very equal, and would never in a million years dream of upsetting that balance.

(Quite honestly, Vil doesn't want to be treated like an incompetent manchild who can't do anything for himself and he's glad you're on the same page)

He very much appreciates and admires your skillset, interest in learning new things, and your dedication to your passions (one isn't just vegetarian for ten years without some commitment, after all), and sees you as compatible in that regard.

It's a very mature and balanced relationship, one in which you don't even have to imagine him lovebombing or taking you for granted or acting childish. He certainly has his moments, but such is being human.