#shed still be a terror but shed be CUTE

[baby--charchar]

Caregiver Vaggie, after hearing a huge crash from the living room: ¿¿¿qué carajo???

Baby Charlie, who is hyperactive, on her 3rd pixie stick from Daddy, sucking her paci, and now sitting beside the toppled television set: que cajo! que cajo!

Vaggie: ....

Charlie, clapping proudly: Veevee! Veevee, que cajo!

[mikavlcs]

Not On My Mind

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x reader

Summary: You leave school for a trip, and Wednesday doesn’t miss you. Not even a little bit.

Warnings: soft/ooc!wednesday but she’s like...in denial about it, my writing

Word count: 2.8k

Notes: this is kinda messy, but cute. nothing else to add tbh. hope you guys enjoy<3

Masterlist

Wednesday Addams was not soft.

She simply wasn’t. She never had been, and she never would be, for as long as she drew breath. The word didn’t even exist in her vocabulary.

Because she, Wednesday Addams, was a singularity. Unlike any other lowly mortal, she was not born from a womb, but forged in the hottest, most ferocious flames of hell by Lucifer himself. She was pure menace and dread given a small, but formidable physical form.

A vile miscreant equipped with a smile that could make even the purest of angels scream in terror and a glare that could make the devil shed tears of despair. Judge, jury, and executioner—someone capable of horrors beyond even your worst nightmares.

(Well, not executioner since she was unfortunately not yet a murderer, but she would be someday. It was the only incomplete task on her bucket list.)

So, no, Wednesday Addams was not soft. Nor could she ever be capable of such abominable behavior.

And yet…here she was displaying signs of this weakness. Because of you.

You were going on a family vacation. An event which, to Wednesday, sounded like a particularly gruesome method of torture, but you were positively buzzing with excitement about the trip.

Either way, you were going away with your family for a week. An entire seven days without you constantly at her side, chattering in her ear between classes, and lounging around her room in the evenings.

This, in theory, should have been great news. Lucifer knew how much more writing she could get done without you dragging her out to Jericho after classes or trying to read over her shoulder despite her threats of bodily harm. But it wasn’t great news. In fact, the information brought forth an odd sort of discomfort. A dull ache in her chest she’d never experienced before.

It was disgusting, it was vile, and it would certainly stain her reputation if it ever got out.

She supposed her reputation had already been defiled by the fact that her roommate and self-appointed best friend was the human embodiment of a rainbow, but this? This was a new low.

Her shamefulness was all she could think about while she watched you pack from her place on your bed. Well, “pack” was a generous way to describe it. You were actually just frantically grabbing clothes and other various items from around your room and throwing them into your suitcase and duffel bag, much to the disapproval of the meticulously organized Addams.

You insisted that you had a system, a method to your madness. Wednesday disagreed but didn’t bother voicing it.

From the ground, your voice rose, sounding far too winded for someone doing so little exercise. “Can you hand me that box on the dresser, Wends?”

Wednesday exhaled sharply. She came here to see you off, not help you pack last minute. Still, she obeyed, not without sending you a scathing glare that you promptly ignored.

The box in question was easy to find, already open atop your dresser where you directed her. She took a passing glance inside to survey the contents within—a bunch of mismatched jewelry that sparked vague recognition but no interest.

Just as she was about to close it, something caught her eye. A ring, sitting in the corner of the box. It was a simple, visually unobtrusive black band with silver engravings wound throughout. She recognized it as one of your most frequently worn pieces of jewelry, but it had never captured her attention before now.

She was overcome with the sudden, overwhelming urge to take it. Wednesday very nearly stifled it, but she figured since you were subjecting her to these horrific feelings, she was entitled to a settlement of some kind.

Swiftly, she pocketed the ring and snapped the box shut, venturing back over to you, none the wiser as you messily stuffed clothing into your suitcase. She held the box out to you, eyes narrowing in condemnation at the messy state of your things below.

“Why are you taking the entire box?” Wednesday asked neutrally.

“Because these dorms are not the most secure,” you answered, taking the box from her hand with a smile and placing it on top of your clothes. “And I would hate for something to get stolen while I was gone.”

Wednesday’s lips twitched. “Yes, that would be unfortunate.”

Soon enough, you were finished packing and ready to go. Almost. For some reason, you were struggling to carry both your duffel bag and suitcase at the same time. It was quite humorous, watching you struggle, but she took pity on you knowing you were on a schedule.

“You’re weak,” she grumbled as she snatched the duffel bag from your hand, slung it over her shoulder, and stepped around you to open the door.

You followed closely behind, flashing her a grateful, slightly sheepish grin while closing the door behind you. “Thanks, Wends.”

She said nothing, just kept walking, finding amusement in the sound of you fumbling to catch up. When you found your footing, you took your usual place at her side, shoulders brushing while you easily fell into step with her.

The whole way down, you chattered on and on about what you were excited to do on the trip, but Wednesday wasn’t tuned in. Her attention was on the way her stomach fell further with every step closer to the waiting car outside and the pit she could feel forming for seemingly no reason at all.

She despised it, this ever-growing weakness you unwillingly made her develop.

Walking out, you found the car parked right by the curb outside, Principal Weems already leisurely resting against it while she waited for you to arrive.

The tall woman greeted the two of you with a smile, to which you offered a wave in return while Wednesday just stared. She came to collect your luggage and went to put it in the back of her car, leaving the two of you to say your goodbyes.

You turned to her, rocking back on your heels, clearly unsure of what to say. Wednesday, though she’d never admit it, was in a similar predicament, without the slightest clue of what to do now.

She didn’t know why, but she was tempted to pull you back into the school and drag her back to her dorm. The urge was utterly ridiculous, yet grew more powerful by the second, nagging at her as she watched your agonizingly slow internal debate.

“I guess I’ll see you in a week,” you finally said, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth. “It’ll be over in a flash, and I’ll be back to talking your ear off before you know it.”

Wednesday gave you a firm nod in lieu of a verbal response. You sent a sideways glance to the principal’s car, clearly remembering you had a flight to catch.

“Bye, Wends,” you said, then added, “Please don’t kill anyone while I’m gone.”

“No promises,” she deadpanned, earning a laugh from you.

After another moment of indecision, you pressed a chaste kiss to her lips, feather-light and entirely too quick for her tastes. But she didn’t voice that embarrassing thought, just watched you walk off and enter the vehicle with her arms crossed.

As the car pulled off, you turned and waved to her out the back window, and she lifted her fingers from her forearm slightly in response. The smile you gave her got smaller and smaller with distance.

Wednesday stayed standing there until the car was out of sight, the unidentified pit in her stomach never abating.

—

The week that followed was…weird.

It was the same as any other week at Nevermore, yet entirely different.

She was indeed able to get much more writing done, but it wasn’t as triumphant as Wednesday imagined. The silence in her room was refreshing for all of twenty minutes before the tone of it shifted, and the quiet felt empty. It didn’t impede her workflow—if anything, it increased it—but it just felt wrong.

There were a number of notable happenings throughout the week as well.

Bianca suffered her 47th defeat at the hands of Wednesday during their weekly fencing practice (she was very excited to get to 50), Eugene somehow got six bees stuck in his hair and, in a show of true incompetence, Xavier managed to spill an entire can of paint on himself. Something he would never, ever live down as far as Wednesday was concerned.

In all of those instances, she found herself looking to her right to see if you were smiling or laughing. Until she was met with the empty space you would’ve occupied, and she remembered. You weren’t here. It made a certain hollowness settle in her chest, making her mood drop ever so slightly.

It was pathetic, honestly. It made her want to self-lobotomize herself to attempt to determine just how much damage you’d done, to see if it was reverible.

Still, she mentally cataloged the events to recount for you upon your arrival. Only so she wouldn’t have to deal with your whining about her not telling you anything once you inevitably heard it from Enid.

Throughout each day, your ring accompanied Wednesday everywhere she went. Slipping it on right before leaving her dorm and taking it off just before bed quickly became her new routine.

She had never fully understood the obsession that people had with rings as the only hand jewelry she ever enjoyed wearing was brass knuckles, but she was beginning to get it now. The light weight on her hand was somewhat soothing, especially in moments when your absence was particularly potent.

She hoped that no one would notice it. Most wouldn’t have even known it belonged to you, but your shared group of friends (acquaintances on Wednesday’s end) would likely recognize it since you wore it so frequently.

Knowing this, Wednesday did her best to take it off in group settings, slipping it into her blazer pocket to put back on after, but it was harder to remember during classes. This oversight ended up being her undoing.

It wound up taking three days for someone to notice the ring. And, of course, that someone was Enid.

They were in Botany, listening to Miss Thornhill drone on about some rare carnivorous plant. Enid was in the seat next to her to “fill in the void” you left behind in your absence with her peppy, prismatic presence.

Entirely unnecessary, but so were most things Enid did. Wednesday had long since learned not to question her anymore.

Wednesday, having already known everything there was to know about the plant, had finished taking her notes five minutes after class started, but Enid wasn’t even trying to take notes. She was instead doing seemingly everything in her power to irritate Wednesday. Incessantly doodling, clicking her pen, constantly fidgeting and shifting, drumming her fingers against the desk.

It was positively maddening. And not in a good way.

In an effort not to snap at her, Wednesday occupied herself with your ring. Tracing the engravings and twisting it around her finger. It was soothing. Enid, nosy as she was, glanced over at the movement and paused her pen clicking.

“Hey…” she started, and Wednesday immediately knew she would hate where this was going. Enid leaned over, making Wednesday lean back in turn. Her eyes narrowed then widened moments later with a soft gasp. “That ring, isn’t that—"

“None of your business? Absolutely,” she gritted out, sending her a scathing glare. “Now, perhaps you should actually pay attention. Maybe then you’ll have a chance of finally getting something higher than a 70 on the next test.”

Her roommate looked like she wanted to say more but eventually conceded with a disgustingly wide smile and a mumble that sounded awfully like that’s so cute of you, roomie.

Wednesday swore that if it were anybody else, she would’ve finally completed her bucket list that day.

—

After what seemed like an eternity and many more tests to Wednesday’s patience (almost exclusively from Enid), seven days passed and the time for you to return to Nevermore arrived.

It had actually been longer than seven days—170 hours and 17 minutes, to be exact—but who was counting? Certainly not Wednesday.

The principal’s car pulled in just as the sun began to set, and Wednesday was there, standing off to the side of the school’s entrance. Not because she was waiting for you, she simply had matters to attend to in the courtyard around that time.

You stepped out the car moments later and your eyes found hers instantly, expression brightening. Bags in hand, you ran over to her but stopped just short of her, excitement fading into uncertainty.

Wednesday stared at you, then, with an audible sigh, stepped forward. Your smile returned, increasing tenfold as you dropped your bags and wrapped your arms around her, careful not to squeeze her too hard. If you questioned the way she barely leaned into your embrace and turned her face just slightly into your neck, she would say it was entirely in your head.

“Did you miss me?” you asked once you pulled back, hands coming to rest on her shoulders.

“Not for a second,” she answered. “I was able to get twice as much writing done without your constant prattling and distractions.”

“Uh-huh.” The sly smile on your face told her that you definitely weren’t buying it, but you plowed on before she could confront you. “Y’know, you could have texted me if you had a phone,” you persuaded, fixing her with a look she’d become intimately familiar with since you’d started dating. “I could always get you one.”

Wednesday blinked, shot you a dubious look. “You’re broke.”

Your shoulders fell dramatically, but your tone remained light. “Damn, Wends, you didn’t have to say it like that.”

She didn’t dignify you with another response. Knowing you would need time to unpack before dinner, she slung one of your bags over your shoulder and took off in the direction of your dorm, leaving you to catch up.

It wasn’t long before you were by her side, matching her pace easily. And, of course, you had more to say.

“Do you wanna hear about my trip?”

“No,” she said. A beat. Then, “But you may tell me while you unpack. I know you like to run your mouth while completing tasks anyway. I have things to tell you as well.”

“Really? Thanks, Wends,” you grinned brightly. Wednesday shot you a glare, and if you noticed that it was softer than usual, you didn’t comment.

Unable to keep your mouth shut, you started ranting about the traffic you hit on the way back to the airport, or something related to that. Wednesday wasn’t quite listening. She was instead taking in the unfocused drawl of your voice in her ear, the strides perfectly matching hers, the light brush of your shoulder against hers—just appreciating the familiar presence at her side once more.

It had only been a week, yet it felt like a lifetime since she had last experienced this.

Without thinking, her hand drifted to fiddle with your ring, and your eyes caught the movement. You stopped suddenly, prompting Wednesday to come to a halt as well with a questioning look.

Gently, you grabbed her hand and brought it closer to your face to inspect the band around her finger.

“This is mine, isn’t it?” you asked, brows knitting together. “I’ve been wondering where it went, I swore I packed it...”

Wednesday snatched her hand away. “I have no idea what you’re talking about but grab my hand like that again and yours will be swiftly removed.”

“But—” you started to protest but stopped abruptly. She watched, curious, as your expression smoothed over into something even she couldn’t quite read. You nodded, smiled. “Yeah, I must be confused, sorry.”

Wednesday narrowed her eyes but accepted the apology with a nod.

The rest of the walk was spent in silence. It was odd. Wednesday stole a few glances to see if you were upset, but you seem to be. If anything, the opposite.

Still, the silence stretched on even when you both arrived at your destination, and you were pulling the door to your dorm open for her. She strode inside, trying to find a way to broach the subject without sounding too concerned.

But there was no need.

Just after the door closed, you put a hand on her shoulder and leaned over into her space. She gave you a startled glare but didn’t move away, ignoring the way her ears burned at the sight of your soft smile and the equally soft whisper that followed.

“I missed you too, Wednesday.”

—

everyone @ wednesday while reading this:

anyways happy pride to my fellow loser gays 🥳🏳️‍🌈

[keisobe]

; 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 (𝐡𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧)

⎯ from spider-man : across the spiderverse (spoiler free!!)

✮. ⋆ after a successful date with hobie, you show your gratitude by surprising him with the frills and bows you’ve been hiding throughout the night. + wc. 3.1k

content. afab reader. graphic smut. semi-dom reader. sub hobie. unprotected sex. oral sex (m receiving). creampie. established relationship. pet names. first time together.

notes. this fic was based off two anon requests asking for ‘polar opposites’ and ‘dom reader’. i hope that i fulfilled those request perfectly and also hope you guys enjoy this hobie smut (ik i wrote his accent terribly lol) ♡

The shuffle of your footsteps traveled through the dark apartment, laughter and the jingle of keys filled the bleak atmosphere as you and Hobie situated yourself into the warm comfort of your flat. You flicked the light switch as you laughed along a joke he made about the creep in the pub that tried to hit on you.

It was a momentarily tragic incident, an unfamiliar touch to your ass while you were simply ordering from the bartender had your heart drop in terror. That was until Hobie stepped him and pushed the creep down to the floor, guiding himself with his broken fall as he laid bone shattering punches onto the guy’s face. It was then that the both of you were kicked out for ‘causing a violent disturbance’, all because an ambulance had to be sent out. Although the booze was out of reach for the night, the date was still a success as Hobie made it up by sneaking you both into a runway show happening near the heart of London. You got to sit alongside celebrities you’ve seen pictures in the magazines you owned. It was one of the best dates you’ve ever been on and it was all thanks to Hobie.

To show your gratitude, you begged him to come back to your place. Hobie didn’t hesitate to accept the offer, letting you excitedly walk him to your flat as the full moon shedded a guiding light towards your destination.

Now he’s in your room, looking adorably out of place as his roughen up exterior was completely surrounded by your sickly sweet and soft trinkets and decor.

“Hmm… wat’s this lil’ cute thing?”

You turned curiously as you propped yourself comfortably onto the strawberry comforter, scrambling off the white fur coat and the glossy heels you’ve worn throughout the night. Hobie was holding up your Hello Kitty plush, poking in the beaded black eyes and fiddling with the sewn bow with utter confusion.

“Never heard of Hello Kitty before?” You teased, tearing off your ruffled socks as the warmth of your room hit your bare skin.

“Nah, ain’t my style babe.” Hobie quipped as he gently placed it back beside your abundance of jewelry and makeup, smiling at the typical pattern with all your belongings; dainty and pink. “But perhaps ‘ll get more for you.”

His words fall into deaf ears as he gives himself a second to take in your entire room. Everything was absolutely adorable. It was a contrast from his own living space— his wallpaper looking like a scrapbook and his furniture beaten to death. There was something accelerating about you being the complete opposite of him. Someone so well-put together and could be comparable to a doll. While he’s rugged and has been called a ‘toy that’s been scribbled by a toddler’ by one of his bandmates.

You coughed a little bit to steal his attention, internally giggling to yourself as Hobie was completely mesmerized by your room. You gave him a moment to look around more for a few seconds until you began to dramatically yawn, sounding like a broken moan that made his ears twitch.

When he finally turned to look at you, Hobie couldn’t help but nervously chuckle as he ran a hand over his flushed face. Fuck, there you were, sprawled on the bed with soft pink lingerie. The bows and frills fitted your curves perfectly, the silky fabric made your skin glow in the dimly lit room. You look like an angel— at least that’s what Hobie thought.

You smirked at his dazed look as you got up on your knees, looping your fingers on his belt loops and tugging him closer to the bed.

He broke out of his trance from the sudden movement, a cocky smile plastered into his face.

“‘s why were you so eager to bring me to your flat?” He titled your chin as he caressed a thumb over your cheek, allowing your hands to work on his studded belts.

“Maybe.”

“Needy lil’ one.”

You laughed at that. Touché.

As each belt fell on the floor with a solid clink, Hobie retracted his melting touch to discard his leather jacket and torn shirt— coming off swiftly with each pull. He kicked off his laced boots when you unzipped and discarded his pants, tugging at his briefs with surprising strength as he clumsily landed on top of you. You ran a hand over his bare chest, reluctantly passing over a silver piercing on his nipples. You knew he was hot, but he just got even hotter.

“Lay down for me.” You ordered right as Hobie's hand hovered over your hips.

He looked stunned for a moment before smirking, raising his hands as he surrendered himself to you.

“‘es ma’am.”

Doing exactly what he was told, Hobie flipped over to his back against the comforter, brushing a hand onto your thigh as you positioned yourself between his spread legs. Without any more hesitation, you gave into your desires and began to crawl onto his long torso— locking your lips onto his. You felt a smile curl on his lips as he deepened the kiss, guiding your tongues to tangle together. Hobie craned his head to drag his teeth against your quivering lips, grazing a soft hand along your flushed cheeks. He could taste you, finally. This yearning he had for you throughout the night was well worth it at the end. It couldn’t be helped that he was a little obsessed with you. Especially with your taste on his tongue, Hobie couldn’t restrain himself to push further into your mouth— licking along your molars as drool ran down both your chins.

You whimpered into his mouth until he pulled away with a labored breath, a string of saliva connecting your lips together. A soft glint in his eyes made your heart skip a beat for a moment, until your eyes gazed towards the vein running down his neck.

Not worrying to catch some air, you kissed along his jawline with utter need. Lolling your tongue along the juncture of his neck and closing it off with a harsh bite with the goal to leave an obvious mark that he wouldn’t dare hide with his chokers. A deep groan rumbled in Hobie's chest as he gave into your mouth, each lick going lower and lower along his body. You lapped along the metal bar on his nipple, kissing and marking his toned stomach, and finally laying your tongue down to the trail of coarse hair that continued under his lousy waistband.

Being face-to-face with the tent in his briefs sent your nerves on edge as his erection was utterly palpable. The outline of his cock bobbed under the confining fabric as a wet spot began to ooze out from your needy advances. This new display of hobie made all your purest thoughts incinerate into intense ardor. The wetness between your legs seeping through your own garments.

Hobie clicked his tongue with impatience, pulling you back from your lustful hallucination.

“C'mon love, don’ shy away now.” Hobie cooed as he rested his muscular arms under his head, craning it a bit to get a perfect view of your dazed eyes and his erection. If he could capture this moment, he would have hundreds of them plastered on his walls.

Wordlessly, you slowly slid down the waistband with anticipation, feeling the warmth radiating off his clothed cock pass along your cheeks, before the elastic finally wrapped around his thighs. A low hiss slipped through Hobie's lips as the brief contact of cold air drifted along his freed cock, springing to its full length as it slapped heavily against his bruised stomach. He was huge; his length well passed over his navel and the thickness can be comparable to your wrist. But what’s had you gawking hard is the details of his cock. A prominent vein running down the underside of his length. But then you happen to gaze at a hint of silver— leading to three metal bars pierced along his frenum. Holy shit, Hobie had dick piercings.

“Should I be upset at the person who pierced your dick?” You jested, but your stomach turned at the fact that someone else already saw his cock before you.

Hobie chuckled, taking a hand out to teasingly stroke his length in front of your sour expression, giving you a good eyeful of the glistening precum running down his glaring piercings and tightening skin.

“Upset at me? ‘s not really fair innit?”

You bit back a relieved grin at his reply. You should’ve known. Either way, the fluttering pride in your stomach directed you back into your lustful advances. You’ll make him feel good then.

There's no time for Hobie to tease your jealousy when you lap the full length of his cock, leaving a salty and bitter taste tingling on your taste buds. An unexpected whimper managed to escape his mouth, making you smile pridefully. Your tongue worked its way onto his glistening, swollen tip. Hobie snagged the strawberry printed comforter under him, mumbling curses under his breath as you began to gently suckle the redden head of his cock, careful not to scrape your teeth. You purse your lips along his tip and continue to relentlessly tease his cockhead, its shade of red deepening with each swipe of your tongue. Finally, with precum coating your lips and Hobie’s restraint slowly breaking loose, you bottom out completely and begin to create a steady pace around his length.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell…” Hobie managed to sigh through his swollen lips, giving in to his temptations of forcibly touching you as he latched onto the back of your neck— firm yet gentle to the touch.

His sweet touch quickly became desperate, as hobie began to pace your mouth faster around his cock, leaving a sore ache to your jaw and the repeated stabbing sensation of his tip sliding down your resisting throat. Fuck it hurts, but it felt so good. Especially when hobie was spitting out a bunch of sweet nothings and Hobie curses, and the occasional addicting groans whenever you would lewdly gurgle around his length. Before he could come undone, Hobie urgently grabbed onto the roots of your hair and pulled you away from his throbbing cock. With teary eyes and cum stained cheeks, you coughed and inhaled deeply. Hobie quickly came to your aid afterwards, petting your head gently as his thumb swiped over the spittle of precum glossing over your lips.

“Wan’ stop?” His concern was genuine, but he couldn’t help but admit that you looked really good right now. Tongue coated with his essence, lashes wet and eyes glistening, Hobie just wanted to go the full ride. But only if you wanted to.

Your weak smile reassures him as you cutely shake your head. He gave you a sweet peck on the lips before he lifted you onto his torso. You straddled his slim frame as he eagerly kneaded the softness of your hips. Hobie took in your outfit one last time. Tugging onto the pretty, lacey frills that made his head spin exactly how it did the first time he met you. Fuck, he never even knew pink would look so good on someone until he met you. An absolute princess, he thought. With his dark eyes teaching over your features, his sneaky hand reaches around the hooks of your bra, expertly popping off the clasps with total finesse. The garment slid down your arms and was discarded with the rest of your clothing.

God, he couldn’t keep his eyes off your tits. Every curve, shadow, and tiny details on your sacred flesh lessened his self control. Hobie begins to rut against you, latching his mouth onto a nipple as his spindly fingers began to grope more and more of your exposed body. You sighed as his suckling became more heated and desperate, hollowing his sunken cheeks and filling his tongue with the taste of your hardened buds. Then each suck became bites— bites that littered a bruise on your delicate skin. He wanted to show you off, to that sick bastard that touched you at the bar, the random eyeing you when you guys walked back to your home. Hobie never felt this before, was he feeling jealousy too? Huh, he’s learning many new things today.

“Hobie…” You panted, cradling his face so gently. Hobie could literally get on his knees right now and—

“Let me ride you.”

He rasped a low fuck and nodded with obedience that he never knew existed in his genes.

You tore off your underwear with vigor, a clear strand of your arousal connecting to your sensitive pussy. His cock jutted as you steadied yourself, grabbing firmly onto the thick base. It took so much willpower to not piston his hips right now, but his wishes came true when you sunk down halfway down his pulsing cock. With this newfound connection, the both of you moaned at the same time— your tight walls wrapping around Hobie and his impressive length absolutely wrecking you before you could move your hips.

“Fuckin’ shit– move, move babe. Please.” His begging sounded like music to your ears.

So you lifted your hips and pushed down with a groan.

And everything happened so quickly afterwards.

The heady scent of sex wavered around the warm air, echoes of skin slapping creeping along the empty hallway, your hands sprawled along Hobie’s glowing chest, and your rhyming hips diving down his length that left traces of your arousal along his pubic bone. Control never felt so good. Especially when it comes to Hobie, someone with anarchistic tendencies and despises being ordered around, is now a whimpering mess under you. No snarky quips, relentless teasing, or his usual lopsided grin. He was unraveling, purring and groaning with deep satisfaction, pinching the faces and limbs of your stuffed toys that were disheveled on your bed. There was a whole audience of them, stitched out smiles and detailed eyes that made it seem directed toward the two of you.

And Hobie loved it. Though it was incomparable to the crowds he’d performed in front of, these ones resemble you. Back when he saw you stick out like a sore thumb in the middle of metal chains and spiked hair. He vividly remembered the fluffy white dress and pearls that adorned your hair. He’d be crazy not to take you behind stage right after his performance, and so he did. Now, his current circumstances have him in a blissful state, under the same girl who was too shy to even ask for an autograph.

It’s filthy, having the sight of you bouncing around his cock, the cute little accessories unkempt in your hair, makeup smudged and faded.

But your sight was better. A halo of plushies surrounding Hobie, his eyes teary with hot pleasure, veins protruding along his glowing skin. It’s a sight that had your slick walls tightening around him like a vice and setting up for a mind-shattering orgasm.

“Feeling good love?”

Hobie furrowed his brows, his cartilage bobbing with a thick swallow.

“Y-Yea babe… shit,” Hobie deeply groans, eyes fluttering open with a smirk. “Oh, y-you’r my mine you know that? Can only make me feel this good, yea?”

He was back. Not that you mind, his praising words only made you fuck him harder— more desperate, like you’re chasing down for his cock. The soft ridges of his tip brushed along a spot that made your knees wobble and nearly lock in place. Hobie took the courtesy to start snapping his hips against yours, meeting your quivering thrust halfway. His slender hands were more frantic, a thumb rapidly rolling over your swollen clit and a palm grabbing your thigh for leverage. With his new advances, you began to thrash and whine, mindlessly pleading to Hobie like a broken vinyl. Pleading him to keep going.

His spider senses were on a scale that he never knew could be reached. Prickles along his dewy skin, the tips of his ears twitching with every yelp and mewl that escaped your glossy lips. He can feel your approaching orgasm himself, the warm buzz spreading along his groin was like electricity. He can even feel himself on the edge, his demanding, measured thrust faltering to a desperate, sloppy mess.

“I’m gonna cum.” You rasped with need, your hips sputtering and clumsily losing its tempo.

“Yea, I know.” Hobie slurred through clenched teeth.

Then both of you released at the same time: you, gushing around his heavy length with one final drag against your sweet spot and him; mesmerized by your scrunched up features as his cock spurted hot, messy cum inside you.

Falling into his arms with exhaustion, Hobie immediately nestled you into a comforting embrace. You fit perfectly with his body, the blank spaces filled with your tightly pressed limbs like it was meant to be pieced together; each pant and heartbeat completely in sync. Both of you were sticky, sweaty, and dulled from overwhelming arousal.

“Up top?” Hobie held at his palm, a playful smile adoring his attractive face.

You grinned back, slapping your clammy palm together as his spindly fingers laced around yours, locking your hand in a comforting hold.

“ ‘s fine that I…?” Oh yeah. He came inside you.

“You’re good, see, look?” You propped yourself up and shook the plastic case that contained your birth control. This new position you were in gave Hobie a nice glimpse of his seed slowly running down your leg.

Hobie let out a reverb chuckle, patting at your thighs with adoration.

“Just makin’ sure, ‘m not ready to be a dad yet.”

You playfully rolled your eyes as you adjusted yourself back onto the bed. The brief moment of silence was comforting, weirdly domestic. His slow breathing sounded familiar from your dreams, his caresses nearly lulling you to sleep. Then you broke the silence.

“You know… I would’ve gotten with you way before if I knew you’d fuck me this silly,” you jested, lightly tracing over the silver punctures on his brow bones, to the metallic bar hooked around his soft lips. He leaned into your touch, kissing your palm sweetly.

“Didn’ kno’ you’d like someone as shabby as me.” There was a little shame with Hobie’s confession. He was anxious that his striking contrast from you would draw you away, not like he would usually care, but there was a feeling inside him that drew him closer to you. He didn't want to lose you.

“Shabby? No, you’re actually adorable.” You reassured him softly.

Hobie scoffed out of flusteredness, biting back a satisfied grin.

Adorable? Him? Impossible.

“Wan’ me to leave?” He jokingly pointed towards the door.

You snickered at his teasing, reaching over the piles of discarded clothing and tossing on his loose band shirt.

“Without a nice, hot shower?”

Hobie smiled wickedly. Touché.

“Sounds li’ somethin’ I don’t miss out on.”

MOCHIFILM © 2023. please do not copy, translate, or modify any of my work. all of my works are not permitted to be posted on any other sites.

[fandomwriterlover]

Hello! If you are taking requests at this time, would you be able to do a scenario? It would be Macaque, Nezha, and MK (separate) x Reader (gender neutral).

The prompt: reader is normally very confident and fearless, with a cute and soft demeanor that's hard to hate. Then one night, they have a bad nightmare that wakes the boy(s) up, the reader is literally shaking and crying from the dream. When they can calm the reader down a bit and ask if they're ok, they just say that it was a dream about an old memory and refuse to say anything else.

LOVER'S NIGHT TERROR

Macaque

You both sleep seperatly. It was more confortable for him and you never bothered about it. That night he would change that arragement, when you startled him.

He rushed in your room at the moment he heard your screams, and found you sitting at the edge of the bed sweating. You always had an stoic and fearless look on your face... It was the first time he saw you like ... This.

You're fine, it's nothing- You asurred! Covering yourself with the blankets, you told Macaque to leave. It was embarrising to have him looking at you like this! But... That charming jerk not only didn't left; he sat close to you!

You felt his body laying next to you, trying to talk about what happened. If you don't want to talk about it, it's ok. But he would tell you little stories about his life: bad moments, good moments... Which you are included. You dift into a calm sothing sleep, and he stay by your side caressing gently your cheek.

Nezha

When he heard a scream, he awoke already sumnonding his spear and the pink fire wheels already on his feet. His eyes dashed into all directions, searching for any enemy or intruder... But then he saw you: with a terrefied expression he had never saw on your face. Ever.

He came to you, apologising... But you needed a moment, and walked out of the room. You walked fast, trying to calm your stupid beating heart and trying to get thoses images of your brain. The fresh air and the moonlight made you realice that you were in the garden...

Nezha found you there. You felt a wave of embarrasment coming through your head and couldn't face him; not with your angsty expression and your cheek wet by the tears that you shed in your horrible sleep. But he gently grabbed your arm, and that stopped you from keep walking.

Only him... Yes, you felt that this god that you deeply loved... He would be the only one who you could be a little more open. Both of you had difficult backgrounds that could be define as "difficult to handle". The two of you had a lot to tell... And that's what you did together. You wouldn't know how much it means to Nezha that you trust him enough to show him a side of you that you conceal; nor even the sweet gentle look he had while he watched you while you were sleeping, one he convinved you to go back to bed.

MK

Your mumbleling became shrieks and yelling at the night terror was getting worse. MK woke up with the thought that you were being attacked right next to him, didn't took the staff out of his ear yet because he saw that it was just the two of you in his room. He placed his hand on your arm and shoulder, calling your name with a worried tone; he panicked that you weren't waking up... and that you were crying!

As you were rising from a seas that swalow you deep, you sat up with a shaking breathing and the feeling of suffocation. Those images were still on your open eyes. The scents. The sounds echoing your hears... Until you heard MK's voice; his worried voice break you out of that trance. He was next to you, one hand still on your shoulder as the other reached at your face... Wait, you were CRYING?! Damm it!

You ran out of the room. Feeling angry, anxious, embarresed... Why did MK had to see you like THIS?! Like a coward baby. You end up downstairs at Pigsy's Noodle Shop, you sat at a couch that the gang place in a corner to watch the tv for next friday's movie marathoon. Resting your back againts the pillows, you whiped your eyes trying to erase the traces that your tears made. You heard foots steps coming down from the stairs, it was clearly MK.

He just peeked from the wall corner at you for a moment. You kept your hand on your face to avoid his gaze. Then, you saw a dim light coming from the kitchen. Then, bubbling sounds appears, along with choppings and cabinets door opening and closing. And the scent of... Oh, Chicken Lo Mein. Your sunshine came to you with two small bowls with your favorite dish, waiting for an invitation to sit next to you. You smiled at him and scoop on one side. No need necesary. If you didn't wanted to talk, he won't insist; but when you ever feel bad, he would always be at your side. Pigsy entered at the Noodle shop first thing in the morning, finding both of you fall asleep on the couch.

[papermint-airplane]

I just wanted to quickly write about a childhood experience I had so I can get rid of it because it's been on my mind a lot recently. You're welcome to read it if you feel like you want to but I warn you, it's not a happy memory and will contain descriptions of child abuse. Read at your own risk.

When I was 8, my parents bought me a bike for my birthday. This was a whole ass surprise for numerous reasons not the least of which being that we were very, very poor. I had never asked for a bike or expressed interest in learning to ride a bike, but they got me one for whatever reason. I still don't know why or how they afforded it.

Well, maybe I do sort of know why. My mom always expressed to me her regret at never learning how to ride a bike in her life, either in childhood or adulthood. I suspect she didn't want that for me so I was going to learn how to ride a bike regardless of how I felt about it. She did a lot of things like that.

Nevertheless, I was pretty excited to learn. It was the cutest little pink and purple Huffy bike with white handles. My mom put streamers in the handles, put those little colorful bead things on the wheel spokes, put a basket on it, put a bell on it...I mean that bike was pimped tf out and I loved it. It took me a while to build up the courage to even sit on it, though. I was very small for my age and bikes were scary. Even though it had training wheels, it was still a lot faster and more intimidating than my thrift store Barbie skates. Eventually, I gained the confidence I needed to ride it and I was doing pretty well with it.

Then my dad decided I didn't need training wheels anymore. I was not ready to take the training wheels off and I said as much repeatedly, but my dad didn't listen to me. He is, after all, the man who, to this very day, thinks that children should not have rights, so my opinion didn't matter in the slightest to him. He just informed me that the training wheels were going away and I had to live with that.

He started trying to teach me to ride my bike in the front yard, on the grass, where there was more traction and less chance of me getting hurt than on the sidewalk. Less chance. Not zero.

Anyway, he was doing that thing dads do where he was running alongside me on my bike, holding onto it, and telling me what to do. Mind you, I knew how to pedal already, but doing it while balancing was new and very scary to me. I was already shaking from fear and feeling very out of control when my dad let go. I didn't realize he had let go at first until he told me.

If you're picturing a cute Hallmark moment of a cute little girl taking off confidently on her bike while her proud father watches on with tears in his eyes, stop. That's not what happened. Predictably, I panicked because I felt unsafe and I didn't know how to stop. I panicked and jerked the handlebars around, which resulted in my front tire hitting a divot in the grass and launching me headfirst into the front porch.

Something of note: our porch was basically a large concrete slab with heavy iron railings. Very sturdy, very strong, very solid. I hit the porch at max force, hitting my side on the iron railing while scraping my knee on the concrete. I think I might have hit my head, too, but fortunately I was wearing a helmet. Needless to say, I was terrified out of my mind, shaken up, bleeding, bruised, and in pain. I did what all little girls do in that situation. I screamed. I cried.

What do you think my dad did? Did he comfort me? Apologize for pushing me to do something I wasn't ready to do? No. He clenched his jaw, grabbed me by the arm, and wrenched me to my feet.

"Get in the damn house," he growled. He picked up my bike and violently threw it into the shed. He was angry. My father's rage was -- is -- something that terrorized our family to no end. I have always likened living with him to living on a minefield. You never knew which step was going to result in a catastrophic explosion that could very well end your life. He was unpredictable and violent. If the batteries died in the remote, he might sigh and replace them. Or he might hurl the remote across the room while screaming curse words at the top of his lungs and then grab my sister by the throat while yelling in her face to get him the G.D. batteries right now or he'd kill her. You never knew which it was going to be.

And this time, I didn't get "sigh and move on" dad. I got angry dad. He hauled me into the house and proceeded to spank me as hard as he could until my butt was numb and I couldn't breathe because I was crying so hard. Then he pushed me out of the kitchen and told me he didn't want to see me again for the rest of the day.

I was homeschooled and this bike excursion was my physical education class for the day, so I had to return to my mom to continue doing my schoolwork while still sobbing and bleeding. I don't know why I expected her to comfort me. She so rarely did. She always took his side unless it benefitted her to do otherwise. "You shouldn't have screamed," she said. "You made a scene in public and embarrassed your father. You got what you deserved." Then she went on teaching me my Bible lesson for the day, the story of Sampson and Delilah.

I moved past that incident because I had to. Nobody took my side. Not my mother, not my siblings who were both older than me and had learned long ago that anything that brings negative attention to our father is worse than a war crime. I pushed my feelings of anger and injustice down like always and just went about life. But I never forgot. It's been 30 years and I still remember every second of that event like it happened yesterday. It wasn't the first time something like that had happened to me nor was it the worst, but it is etched into my memory so deeply, I can still smell the grass and feel my teeth rattling from the impact with the porch. I still feel the fear, first from the loss of control and then from my father's wrath. I still hear my mother's voice telling me I brought this on myself because I had the sheer audacity to scream when I was hurt. I still hear the way my father said "get in the damn house" like he was barely containing his anger. I still feel the hatred burning in my stomach because my father ruined something I had been so happy about. He tainted what should have been a rite of passage for me. And it wasn't even the worst thing he'd done to me by that point in my life.

I will never stop hating that man. Never.

[miintsprigz]

Hey there!! Can you write something about the mercs reactions to a GN!Reader showing signs of toxicity towards the mercs and them confronting them and rebuilding their relationship together. It would be really cute :3 especially with scout (I just think he's a soft boyo lololol)

Not gonna lie to ya, this one was a challenge for me, I even asked to have it proofread. It’s not often I see a prompt like this. I really like it though—I don’t think we see repairing relationships and changing toxic behavior enough. It so often gets shut down, and while unfortunately there are times where you must separate, sometimes you can work on it!

So thank you for such a raw and real prompt, Anon. I appreciate you, and I hope that this meets your expectations and makes you smile.

GN!Reader who shows some toxicity from previous relationships

Song used for inspiration: Heart To Heart by Mac Demarco

Characters: Scout (TF2)

Warnings: uh, I don’t know—there are implications of past relationship trauma here (toxic behavior is sadly often learned from previous toxic relationships), so please be wary of that. Also, this may be considered a somewhat “difficult conversation”, but I promise you it ends well.

_

You sat on your bed, staring at your feet as they dangled just above the floor. A fast heartbeat pounded in your ears, you swore you could feel the blood coursing through every part of you.

Jeremy had said that he…wanted to talk to you. He wasn’t always the most conscientious of the connotation of his words. As soon as terror flooded your face, he had immediately clarified.

“You’re not in trouble, I promise! Geez, now I know how Ma felt…no, but it’s somethin’ serious…somethin’ important, ya know?”

That still left a good bit to the imagination.

So as the Scout finally made his way over to your room, you felt sick to your stomach. You still got that trademark knock on your doorframe.

“Hey. All set?”

Ready as I’ll ever be. Which is not at all.

You nodded your head, feeling the beginnings of a lump in your throat.

You felt the bed sink just a little as he sat down beside you—light as a feather, always, even holding still.

“I’m sorry that I made a whole big deal here but…well, it is a big deal to me.”

You truly thought you knew what was coming. You’d heard it before, out of people’s mouths, in the things they didn’t say, and echoing for years longer in your own mind, after the people voicing it were long out of your life.

“…you’ve had enough of me?”

“What??”

Genuine shock filled his voice, you could feel him go rigid.

“No. Absolutely not. That…that’s not even a thought in my mind, (Y/N), honest.”

Out of the corner of your eye, through quickly blurring vision, you saw a bandage-wrapped hand reaching for yours. You felt frozen, distant. Giving you a moment to move if you wanted to, he placed his hand over yours gently.

“Could ya just take a breath, babe? Please.”

You did just that, the sound rattling painfully. Why couldn’t you get through things like this without getting so emotional…

“I am not goin’ anywhere, okay? You know I love you, right?”

“…yeah.”

“…does it…not feel that way sometimes?”

The question sort of brought you back a bit, out of the haze of dread that conversations like this thrusted you into.

“…m…maybe…?”

“Yeah. I could kinda tell.”

Oh no. “I’m sorry—”

“It’s okay, don’t worry, lemme just explain a bit here—”

His fingertips brushed the back of your hand. A few tears escaped your eyes, but somehow, the gentle touch grounded you a bit.

“See…I forget stuff a lot. I’m not the sharpest tool in the shed. You know it, I know it. And I know it’s not good. But sometimes, when I do that, even if it’s by accident, it feels like ya kinda…shrink back? Or if I tell ya somethin’s goin’ on… Ya get quiet, even after I say I’m sorry, and…I just worry.”

He fidgeted a little, trying to sit more upright.

“And so…Spy talked to me, the other day. He felt bad revealin’ it—ah, who am I kiddin’, the guy loves this stuff—that you said I’m… really loud. And I’m sometimes too… in your face?”

You could feel your face flush as you remembered what you had said. Part of you was mad at Spy for telling Scout, he surely knew this was sensitive information…but…

“He said he told you that you should tell me to cut it out…and it seemed ta him like ya thought I wouldn’t do anything if ya did.”

You looked up to find that he was already looking right at you. He didn’t look angry. Not anywhere. But surely he must have been…right?

“…was it somethin’ like that?”

Slowly, you nodded your head, feeling your shoulders go stiff.

He looked down at his hand, still over yours, and looked back up at you worriedly.

“…I think ya might be doin’ it now. And I might be too. Do you want me ta move back?”

“N-No!!!”

Jeremy’s eyes went wide, blinking quick, before his mouth went taut on the edges.

“…are ya sure that ya mean that?”

You went to reassert that yes, yes you did…but you knew that you didn’t mean that. The contact had helped at first, but it was too much right now. Slowly, you shook your head.

“…yeah. See, (Y/N), this is why I wanted ta talk.”

His hands folded together, pulling away from you. You couldn’t look at him anymore, staring down at your lap through a veil of tears.

“Ya can look down if it helps ya. I know this is kinda…scary, I guess? But just listen to me, please.”

You nodded, and did just that.

Scout took a breath, and it felt like he was weighing each word.

“You want me to feel at ease when we’re together, right?”

You nodded again. His voice was so soft. The normally bombastic and energetic speed and volume had been dialed down. So careful. Very unlike how he was with the others.

“Yeah. I want you to feel that way, too. And if that means that I gotta knock somethin’ off, I’d like you…ta let me know, ya know what I mean?”

A slightly nervous laugh sounded from him, and you were beginning to see what he was trying to say.

He did forget important dates—you knew he didn’t mean to, but it hurt. And as much as you loved seeing him happy and excited, the volume and the physical contact could be extremely overstimulating.

“I’m not angry at you at all, by the way. I never wanted you ta feel like that. Maybe other people have gotten mad at ya for, for tellin’ em you didn’t like stuff they did. But I won’t. I promise ya that. And you know how stubborn I am about promises.”

A slight smile came to your face, even with how hard you were trying not to cry.

“…did people do that to ya, (Y/N)? People ya grew up with? Or other folks ya dated?”

Your lip quivered, and again, you nodded your head.

“Oh…I’m sorry, baby. That ain’t right. Not at all. You’re never gonna get any of that with me, and if you do? You tell me. Don’t hold nothin’ back, okay? Cuz that’s the last thing I’d ever wanna do to ya.”

Feeling bold enough to look up again, in spite of basically falling apart at this point, you caught a switch between the most serious you had ever seen Scout…and possibly the most adoring look he’d ever given to you.

“…I love you so much, (Y/N). I don’t know if I’ve ever loved anyone so much. I’m tellin’ ya all this because I love ya! You’re such a sweetheart—you’re always lookin’ out for me. Very few people have done that, so it means everythin’ ta me.”

You exhaled softly, a muted laugh, and that seemed to perk him up even more.

“And I don’t just love what ya do, I love everything you are. The way ya smile, the way ya make jokes, the way ya sing…it’s all so…so good, baby. You are so good.”

You couldn’t help but smile at that. If he had a tail, it would be wagging. The voices that so often nagged at you that he’d get tired of you went dead silent whenever he talked like this. And in moments like these, you knew he was telling the truth.

“You make me feel like I’m on top of the world. So, could ya give me the chance ta look out for you, too? Cuz I want to. Tell me anything, and I’ll do the best I can to make it happen. I’m always gonna be a little loud, a little clingy, a little…obnoxious. But…you knew that, right?”

Slowly, you nodded, wiping your eyes, your tears having subsided.

“Yeah. And I love you so much because of…a-and sometimes, in spite of those things.”

“See? There ya go!! That was great. May I uh…”

Scout stretched his hand out, and, now wanting to hold it, you quickly grabbed on tight, and tried to pull him in closer. He caught on quick.

“Oh…oh! Okay, hang on…”

Wrapping you in his arms, Scout held you close.

“Is this good?”

You fidgeted a little, then nodded. “Yeah. This is great, Jeremy. Hey…”

“Hm?”

“…thank you. For talking to me. I know it can be hard to talk stuff through with me sometimes. I was so, so scared…that you were just done…”

“I knew ya were, babe. And I hate seein’ ya hurtin’ so much. But, I think…when ya love a person—like, really love ‘em—you’ll do what ya gotta do to make it the best it can be. Even if that means doin’ scary stuff.”

“Yeah…yeah, I think I got it.”

Giggling a little, Jeremy reached for the side of your face with one hand, and you leaned into it, craning your head upwards to peck him on the lips before you curled up against his chest.

“I know it’s hard when ya learned somethin’ one way for years, and now ya gotta…unlearn it, I guess? Honestly, it was hard not ta mess around with the resta the guys when I first got here, cuz I was used’ta it with my brothers back home. But…honestly, I got a different deal with these wackos, so the change kinda works out.”

Giggling at his teasing the others, you looked back up at him, feeling your once racing heart now only aflutter with joy at being in the arms of the man you loved.

“…I think this one works out too.”

“Yeah.”

[deadbydangit]

This might be strange and you may not even know what I'm talking about, but could you write characters with an S/o who acts like Jinx from Arcane?

Maybe this with Ghostface and Leon? Feel free to add any and all people if you do take the request. Thank you ^^

I did a bit of research on this character. She sounds rather chaotic but intelligent. So I'm going to go with that. I hope that's okay if I add one more to it as well. I hope you enjoy it.

With a Reader who is chaotic and intelligent.

Ghostface, Leon, Legion (Frank)

Ghostface

Yeah, let's fuck some shit up.

You and Danny are like the same person.

Much to everyone else's dismay.

Your collective appetite for chaos knows no bounds.

You could both be asleep when Danny shakes you to wake you up.

"Hey I remember this fucked up joke and wanted to tell you."

And you're both just going to laugh.

And then go right back to sleep.

You're both inseparable.

If he could sneak you into every trial to help him, he so would.

"Like, babe, think of the ways we can kill survivors together."

The Entity, much to everyone's delight, refuses to let that happen.

So you both go terrorize whoever happens to be in the woods at that time.

Not as fun, but still entertaining.

Your intelligence has helped him numerous times when it comes to constricting any sort of trap he'd like.

And he won't have to worry if his precious camera ever gets damaged.

The pranks you pull in each other are great.

The pranks you both work on together are masterpieces.

You are the bain of everyone else's existence.

And you both wouldn't have it any other way.

Leon S Kennedy

He has his hands full with you.

He may have the intelligence to match.

But he's a hero, not... Whatever you are.

He'll often walk in on you building some crazy invention or trap.

He is highly concerned.

More about everyone else.

Because that does NOT look safe.

He does take interest in some of your inventions.

Watching you build and explain them, watching how passionate you are about your craft.

It's super cute to him.

Leon is absolutely going to do that stereotypical hero thing where he tries to make you 'see the light' and 'renounce your evil ways.'

Good luck with that buddy.

Leon is very agile, alert, and fairly smart.

So pulling a prank on him takes some work.

If you do manage, he'll applaud your determination and creativity.

Provided it isn't something dangerous.

If he wants you to hold still for a while, he'll challenge you to a boardgame or chess.

This is where his competitive nature shines.

But it's all in good fun.

He never goes easy on you though.

Just because you love him doesn't mean he's going to let you win.

You've already won his love.

Legion (Frank)

Anarchy! Anarchy!

Frank has no idea what that word means, but it sounded cool and he heard you say it once.

He might not be the sharpest tool in the shed.

But he loves you for the chaotic crazy you are.

He's so down to pull pranks too.

And he's always willing to help you whenever he can.

Need him to sneak into Caleb's workshop to grab supplies for your newest invention?

On it!

"Hey. Want to go put mentos and coke in one of Herman's test tubes?"

That's the closest thing to a science experiment you're going to get from this boy.

Just be honored he's making an effort for you.

You might even see him trying to make inventions of his own.

You inspire him.

His lack of regard for the safety of himself or the safety of others might be a concern to others.

But the both of you couldn't give less of a shit about it.

You only live once.

Well, technically not in the realm.

But it's the principal of the matter.

Frank doesn't know what you mean when you say that, but you're smart and it sounded cool so he's going to say it too.

And, he knows you're cool, so he'll say it.

[ultfreakme]

What do you think are Itadori and Junpei’s greatest personality strengths and weaknesses? Why? What do you love about their dynamic?

ANON!!!! I'm crying sobbing thank you for sending me this. Ah I feel a little bad for posting that vent(?) post about not being asked about itajun(once again, i think itafushi is super cute no hate multishipping and minding our own space in the fandom corner ftw).

BUT ITAJUN NOW AHAHAHA

I think Yuuji's is easier to narrow down since he's our protagonist!

Strengths:

JJK often shows Yuuji's kindness, empathy and desire to give everyone proper deaths even if saving everyone is a lofty, unrealistic goal but I love that despite this insistence, Yuuji sticks to it. That conviction is being changed from something wholly idealistic, almost like a hero, to something far simpler ( a cog in the machine), but I still think Yuuji deep down will always want to protect others no matter how battered he is, which is amazing.

His self-awareness! We all know he's not the sharpest tool in the shed but it's not really necessary. He's very aware of his own shortcomings and doesn't take it too seriously when he sees himself falling short, but uses these reflections to grow stronger, to learn more.

Weaknesses:

Is it bad if I say I don't think he has any? I just, cannot think of anything I think are genuine, detrimental flaws in Yuuji....maybe...

He's too selfless. He doesn't think about himself in any capacity to the point he never confronts the traumas he goes through. His grandpa's death affects him a LOT but we never see him properly mourn, Junpei's death still haunts him but he never talked about it with ANYONE (sad that the only person who knows the depth of that loss is Mahito), Shibuya arc and the guilt he feels from Sukuna's actions, his own paralyzing terror of his death. It's really heartbreaking to see.

He trusts too easily. Or he used to. In the manga he's stopped and is a lot more suspicious of strangers(and potentially even people he knows). It's sad but I guess this is the only place he could go after all the suffering.

Onto Junpei!

Strengths:

He's very open-minded. Mahito exploited Junpei's ability to give everyone a chance in order to manipulate him, but this trait is very good in exploring the world and learning more about oneself and others. He didn't enjoy Human Earthworm 2 but he still sat through it multiple times because he thought it had something good to offer. Even when he was mourning his mom & suspected Yuuji of being involved in killing her, he paused and heard him out. It was his downfall, but I think if he was shown more support and given the space to be sure of himself, this trait would have been a huge strength as sorcerer. Geto was trying to be very rigid in his morality, and it led to his downfall, so someone who's flexible and can adjust would last longer.

He's actually very kind and hopeful. It may not seem like it since his opening line is "if i had a button to kill everyone who hated me, I'd push it" and the school attack BUT. Even then, he tries to be indifferent to the cruelties the world has imposed upon him, and fails, because he just can't stomach the fact that other people are capable of inflicting the kind of cruelty he experienced. He can't fathom that his fellow humans can do this. Which, deep down, means he had hope for people to be better. But they failed him. If he had gone to Jujutsu Tech, I think him and Yuuji would have acted as a check-and-balance system for each other's morality and value of human life, and found a positive outlook together.

Weaknesses:

He can't make up his mind because he has zero confidence in himself. Which is fair, considering everything he went through. He keeps looking for validation from others instead of forming his own thing and sticking to it.

He detaches himself from others. Also fair because people have let him down all the time but it goes too far.

Them as a dynamic!!

AHHH! Okay I think Gege Akutami purposefully wrote them to be very compatible as friends(and for my reasons, boyfriends too hehe). This story arc had to have a HUGE impact on Yuuji. Junpei's death is so central to Yuuji's character arc, it's the first domino to fall in Yuuji realizing that he can't save everyone no matter how much he loves them, how much he wants to. But it also needed to be done in a very short time span.

What's the best way to do that?

Give Yuuji a dream and rip it right out of his hands.

So they fit into each other fast and strong. Yuuji can read Junpei like a book and accommodates to Junpei's needs (Yuuji getting rid of that teacher because he saw he was uncomfortable around him, sitting with Junpei at that riverside and being open with him).

Junpei wants to listen to what Yuuji has to say(which is a rarity in jujutsu tech, Nobara dismisses him ranting about Human Earthworm 4, Megumi's very closed off and takes a lot of time to come out of his shell).

The rest of the cast treat Yuuji likes he's an idiot, and when they do hold affection/positive regard for him, they never tell it to him so the story and environemnt feels very hostile. Junpei is treated with a lot of violence and hostility as well.

But when they meet, there's a breather to have fun. talk about silly things and just be teenagers.

Neither of them get the chance to just wind down and I think they gave each other the space to do that. Which is what I love about their dynamic. They bring out the best parts of each other. If they had a bit more time, they could have been so fun to watch interact. Despite their short time together, Yuuji still thinks of Junpei and has a lot of regrets over him.

I think they're the perfect example of "right person, wrong time." If they had met even a little earlier, things could've been different. They were each doomed the moment they met. The 'what-if' that the anime/manga presents is so good that it has me hooked even after 3 years ;_;.

Thanks again for the ask! Sorry for the giant ramble!

[radashes]

Book review: 'SHATTER ME' SERIES

Entering the world of the 'Shatter Me' series was like embarking on a rollercoaster ride, filled with highs and lows, twists and turns. With each installment, I found myself swept away by Tahereh Mafi's captivating storytelling, but also grappling with my own conflicting emotions. Here's a breakdown of my journey through the series, from the heights of adoration to the depths of disappointment.

SHATTER ME #1: 4/5 stars I rated this book 4 stars instead of 5 because I'm not a fan of Adam and Juliette as a couple. Juliette's affection for Adam seems more based on his kindness to her in the past and his ability to touch her, rather than genuine love. Adam's obsession with Juliette feels cliché and cringeworthy to me.

However, I still like Adam as a character overall. The plot and characters like Kenji and especially Warner are fantastic though. Warner's complexity as a character makes him stand out.

DESTROY ME #1.5 [NOVELLA]: 5/5 stars

Wow, Aaron Warner really steals the show. His depth of emotion in this novella is just so well-written. You can really feel his complex feelings, not just towards Juliette, but also in his relationship with Delalieu, which is surprisingly cute. And those dreams? They add such an intriguing layer to the story. And don't even get me started on the quotes - they're just perfection!

Seriously, if you're a Warner fan, you absolutely need to read this. It's a solid 5/5 heartbreaking stars from me.

This novella is an essential read for anyone invested in the series. As you dive into Warner's psyche, you'll feel the weight of his emotions pressing down on you. It's like he's a whirlwind of disappointment, trauma, and anger all bundled up in a 19-year-old boy. But despite all the pain and suffering, you can't help but empathize with him. You start to see the walls he's built around himself and understand why he acts the way he does. It's a real eye-opener that sheds light on every decision he made in the first book.

Fair warning, though - once you finish this novella, there's no turning back. Warner will completely shatter your heart into pieces, and you'll be left utterly captivated by him. I mean, I couldn't even put this novella down, and that rarely happens with novellas!

UNRAVEL ME #2: 4.5/5 stars

This book was so close to perfection. I loved it so much but the ending kind of messed it up for me. It was underwhelming as the whole book.

This book, this world – it's all messed up, yet people keep on living. It blows my mind how they manage to survive, rebels, soldiers, regular folks, all facing terror every day. It's wild.

Lots of folks rag on Juliette, saying she's weak, self-absorbed, always wrapped up in her own drama. But I get where she's coming from. Life's tough, you know? Juliette's been through hell and back. Treated like trash her whole life, it's no wonder she struggles to see herself as anything but a monster. And when she finally starts feeling human again, it's ripped away from her. But she lets it go, showing her humanity.

Her relationships, especially with Adam, get a lot of flack. People say it's not real, just based on need. But with Warner, it's different. Despite his tough exterior, Juliette sees his softer side.

IGNITE ME #3: 5/5 stars

I get it. I FINALLY GET THE HYPE of this series!

This book is the reason why Aaron warner is our golden boy. That guy is the definition of swoon-worthy. Every word out of his mouth had me melting into a puddle on the floor.

Kenji, though? He's the real MVP. I swear, if I wasn't so head over heels for Warner, Kenji would be stealing the show. His humor just brings so much light to everything, you know?

But Adam? Ugh, don't even get me started on him. Every time he showed up, I was ready to throw my book across the room. Seriously, why couldn't Mafi just have Warner toss him off a cliff or something?

But let's talk about the romance. Holy smokes, it was on fire! I lost count of how many scenes had me squealing out loud. Warnette forever, am I right? That pager scene? And "lyhfml"? Absolute perfection.

RESTORE ME #4: 3/5 stars

Wow, that ending though! I'm still trying to process it, honestly.

So, let's get into it. While I didn't love this book as much as "Ignite Me," those secrets and lies had me hooked! But seriously, all that miscommunication? It stressed me out big time. Like, can these characters just talk to each other already?

And Juliette... girl, what happened? She went from confident and strong to clueless and insecure. But hey, she's still the supreme commander, even if she's not sure what to do with all that power. I guess we all make dumb decisions sometimes, right?

But let's talk about the hot stuff. Juliette laying down the law? Scorching! And Kenji? Always a bright spot. His friendship with Juliette and his bond with Warner? Pure gold. And Nazeera? Badass.

Now, Warner. My heart breaks for him. His vulnerability, his anxiety - it's all too real. And that childhood trauma? Heart-wrenching. But eating a cookie with a knife and fork? Classic Warner.

And his love for Juliette? It's sickeningly sweet. He'd do anything for her, and it's both beautiful and agonizing to watch.

Overall, this book had its flaws.

DEFY ME #5: 2.5/5 stars

I gotta be real here. This book left me scratching my head. Like, what was even the point? It felt like Tahereh Mafi was just stretching the story out for the sake of it. And those twists? They were more confusing than anything else. It's like she was trying to shock us without really adding anything meaningful to the plot.

Don't get me wrong, I love Mafi's writing, but this one fell flat for me. The characters I adore, like Kenji and Warner, were still solid, but the rest felt kinda irrelevant. And what's up with the whole Juliette-now-Ella thing? She'll always be Juliette to me.

Speaking of ships, Juliette and Warner? Total goals. They're the only reason I'm considering picking up book six. Oh, and I can't forget about Kenji. That guy deserves all the happiness in the world.

Overall, this book felt like a filler episode of a TV show. Not terrible, but definitely not essential. I'll stick to pretending the series ended at book three.

And can we talk about that cover? Seriously, did they just tweak the old one and call it a day? At least give us something fresh!

Oh, and a heads up for anyone thinking about diving in - there are some heavy topics like parental abuse and suicidal thoughts in here, so tread carefully.

IMAGINE ME #6: 3.5/5 stars

This series should've wrapped up neatly with "Ignite Me." Life would've been good. But nope, we got hit with "Restore Me," and it's been a rollercoaster of disappointment since then.

Honestly, going into this book, I had zero expectations. And you know what? I'm kinda glad about that because what I got was not what I expected at all.

Let's start with the positives. Tahereh's writing? Still top-notch. I mean, how does she come up with those poetic sentences? And Kenji? Bless his soul. That guy was carrying the weight of the whole story on his back, trying to keep everyone together.

But then we got Adam, who's still as irrelevant as ever. And don't even get me started on Warner. He went from being tolerable to downright insufferable. And Juliette? Where did she even go? She went from badass to passive, and it's just frustrating to watch.

The worldbuilding and plot? Yeah, still confused. And that ending? Talk about rushed and unsatisfying. So many loose ends, so many unanswered questions. And that epilogue? Don't even get me started.

In the end, the only enjoyment I got out of this mess was from Kenji's inner thoughts. That guy's a gem, always finding a way to lighten the mood.

Seriously, Mafi, this series should've stayed a trilogy. Don't even think about coming back with more books later on. I'll riot, but let's be real, I'll probably still end up reading them because I'm a glutton for punishment.

BELIEVE ME #7 [NOVELLA]: 5/5 stars

Let me tell you, when I heard about this new book coming out, I was hyped! "Imagine Me" didn't quite give us the closure we needed, so I was ready to dive back into this world.

And Aaron Warner? Damn, that guy knows how to turn up the heat. Chapter 8? I was not prepared for that level of steaminess. I thought we'd get a fade to black moment, but by the end of it, I was sweating buckets. My legs? Let's just say they were done for!

But beyond the romance, I was really digging the world-building in this book. Finally getting some insight into their plans to restore the planet was a breath of fresh air after the uncertainty of "Imagine Me."

But man, these characters? They feel like family to me. Seeing them find happiness just warms my heart. It's like revisiting old friends after all these years.

There are some more novella like:

"Destroy Me" - Aaron Warner's point of view

"Fracture Me" - Adam Kent's point of view

"Shadow Me" - Kenji Kishimoto's point of view

"Reveal Me" - Kenji Kishimoto's point of view

"Imagine Me" - Juliette Ferrars' (Ella Sommers') point of view

"Believe Me" - Aaron Warner's point of view

So there you have it, folks! 'Shatter Me' series has taken us on one wild adventure. Whether you loved it, hated it, or fell somewhere in between, one thing's for sure: Tahereh Mafi has given us a story to remember. And with that, it's time to bid adieu to Juliette, Warner, Kenji, and the rest of the crew. Until next time, happy reading!

[virtue-and-beneviolence]

heyyyy could you write about hanma x gn!reader where reader wakes up in the middle of the night because of a nightmare (there was a sniper who wanted to shoot their family, it happened to me and now i’m kinda too scared to sleep ik it sounds dumb😭)

if you don’t want to write that it’s fine!! take care ((:

It's not silly at all, anon. I've had nights like this, some so bad I'll literally never forget. This one's for you babes.

Hanma x gn!reader (no pronouns, they just get called doll once), written in one sitting, unproofread. hope it's still cute and what you needed

Shuji was a light sleeper. He supposed it to be a byproduct of a life fraught with instability after several months as a fugitive. It took shockingly little to stir him. So little, in fact, that your body tensing in his arms at the onset of your nightmare had him blinking sleep from his eyes, unable to put a finger exactly on what instinct had woken him.

His answer came moments later when you jerked in your sleep, fitfully fighting your dream. It was the dampness of involuntarily shed tears on his chest that made it click for him.

Shuji was no stranger to night terrors and immediately began whispering your name and reassurances in his deepest, most soothing tone long before you were conscious enough to hear him. If needed, he'd happily stay awake all night whispering reminders that you were safe, that he was there, that he was real and your dream was not, that you were okay, that he'd protect you from anything. After some time, you woke with a start.

He didn't pry right away. Talking about nightmares in his experience gave them more power, made him slip back into them more easily, so he waited until you offered the details that a hired sniper was after your family in the dream.

Honestly, his heart sank with somewhat misplaced guilt for exposing you to a life that made such a horrific dream find you. But this wasn't about him. So instead, he held you closer. Strong arms pulled you to lay on top of him with your face in his chest and big hands rubbed circles into your back. Slowly but surely he felt the hammering of your heart slow and your eyes dried but he continued his delicate grounding touches and ignored your embarrassed whines of feeling sticky from nightmare fueled sweat and tears.

Don't give a shit, doll, he mumbled into your hair, that's the least of my fuckin' worries.

And as your mind was finishing sorting reality from dreamscape and fact from fiction, the perfectly Shuji quip assured you most of all that you were awake and in the arms of a man that would do anything for you.

You know I'd keep you safe from anything, right? He said, voice going a bit gravelly from sleepiness after the slight adrenaline rush passed after the process of waking and calming you.

Of course Shuji. Get some sleep m'okay now.

No you, he pouted childishly, eyes long closed.

You covered his lips with yours in a goodnight kiss and mumbled a little, Let's both sleep then.

You can't help the tiny smile that flashes over your lips when he mumbles something intelligible as he's falling back asleep.

Hanma Shuji is a light sleeper. He's a criminal and he's wanted. And he's the only person you'd ever want to wake next to during a bad dream.

[joinourbookclub]

Little Red Writing Hoods Writing Challenge!

Task: Write a story based on a photograph! Thank you @jay-avian for such a cute picture!

Time brainstorming: 10 minutes

Time writing 30 minutes

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

They say that the woods were once wild, bursting with heartless creatures who slashed their claws and snapped their jaws. Humans, the fools that we are, would try to gain glory by taking down a beast, but to no avail. Eventually we learned to stay away and for a long time, things were as they should be. The beasts continued to maim and kill, but kept it in the woods. The humans remained safe by the coast as our civilization grew.

That is until the day a beast left the woods. A frightening thing it was with fur as black as night and horns as sharp as knives protruding from its head. The beast trailed blood where it lurked through the town. Whether it was its own blood or what it inflicted on another beast we still don’t know. The beast made its home on the edge of town, if you could call the sad pile of sticks a home. But as the town left the beast to its own devices, too frightened to approach it, the home grew. Each morning the beast left town and each evening it returned with seeds. A garden began to sprout behind the pile of sticks and the beast was content to take care of it.

The humans, on the other hand, were not content. They thought, “how dare this creature spend centuries terrorizing us, then invade our home and take resources that should be ours?” So they met one morning while the beast was gone and devised a plan. Some humans went down to the coast to bring back buckets of water to have at the ready. Others made shields out of bark. It didn’t offer much protection against a fabled beast, but it was what they had. Finally, the rest lit their torches and waited for the beast to return.

The beast came back that evening, unassuming as ever. It laid down on its bed of sticks and when its breathing was deep and its body still, the humans set fire to the sticks. The fire spread fast, consuming the plants the beast worked so hard to grow and the beast itself. Its cries echoed through the night and the smell of cooked meat filled the air. The humans rejoiced as the beast fled and followed it to the ocean. They were not done yet. They yanked the weakened beast from the water and as a team dragged it back to the woods. The beast did not fight back, it only whimpered along the way. The humans traveled farther into the woods than they had in centuries, but regretted their decision once they heard other beasts stalking around them. They turned to leave, but were frightened into place when a beast as large as the mountains appeared. But the beast was not interested in them. No, its first instinct was to attack the wounded beast.

Blood was drawn and the small beast wailed, barely clinging on to life. It ran as best as its wounded body could, but ultimately collapsed underneath the redwood trees. You would think the story ends here, but there are forces in this world that prevail even in the hardest of times. One of those forces is kindness. The plants remembered how kind the beast was to them so they grew and grew until they wrapped around it in a layer of protection. The other beast tried to get through, but the plants fired back with poisons and thorns. The beast ran off and any other beast that tried to attack in the coming years. The plants wouldn’t let the humans through either, but when they looked into the beast’s eyes they understood. They could see the pain the beast was put through. Enough pain from the other beasts to leave its home. Enough pain from the humans to want to close its eyes and sleep forever. But more importantly than the pain, they could see the beast’s gentle heart. The humans shed tears for the beast as it slept and went back every few years to check on it. 

Fathers, sons, grandsons, and great grandsons all visited the beast. It grew in its sleep until it reached the top of the redwood it originally laid beneath and clovers sprouted from its head, but even after the changes in appearance and time it was not forgotten. The other beasts gradually died off, torn to shreds by their own kind. The humans reflected on them, thinking that they were not so different after all, both foolish by nature. After 1000 years only one beast remained.

I can hear your hesitancy to believe. You’ve been to the now peaceful woods and have never seen this giant beast. That’s because after 1000 years, it awoke. No one was there to see its eyes open for the first time in a millennium or the plants retract to set it free, but it was impossible to miss it stand and march away. We don’t know where the beast went, but we can feel that it is once again content. It must be roaming the world, sprouting gardens wherever it goes. A beautiful thing that will never come to harm again.

[goofysocks3]

hii! i saw that youre accepting requests and i want to request Saeran with B and T from the alphabet game if thats okay? thank you and have a nice day!! <3

Bashful & Terrified ft. Saeran Choi

B ashful

Do they easily get embarrassed? Do they show you that side or not?

To say that Saeran doesn’t easily get embarrassed is an absolute understatement. He tries to hide it by turning his face or just looking away but ultimately, he’ll just resort to cupping his cold hands onto his burning red face. Though throughout the time you’ve been with him, hes grown more accustomed to just letting his face and ears flare up whenever you do something cute, but it’s pretty easy to get him flustered and he still tends to try to hide it. Just a simple sweet comment such as ‘I’ll never let you go", and if you want to turn him into an absolute blushy mess, something like "you’re mine" would do the trick instantly. 

Saeran still doesn’t enjoy coming off as vulnerable, and that’s the main reason why he’d prefer to hide his embarrassment around you. His main way of showing affection towards you would be more centred around words of affection, the very thing that he enjoys himself. Saying sweet things to each other is something that gives him comfort and lets him feel appreciated and loved. So, Saeran would prefer not to be embarrassed in front of you, but he sees no reason to hide it anymore since you’re so good at bringing it out of him. He’s kind of given in to the warm words at this point, and he finally is beginning to feel the appreciation that hes been deprived of all his life.

T errified

How do they act like when they’re scared? What scares them the most?

Saeran has definitely had those moments in his life where he feels genuine fear. Be it from a person, or a feeling or even a drifting thought, Saeran is no stranger to terror. His fears have developed and changed ever since meeting you, and it’s as though they’ve become something looming over him. ‘What if I lose her?’ ‘What if she leaves me?’ ‘What if someone hurts her?’ are all common fears for him. You have become something within his life that he never knew he needed, so once he found you, he never even once thought of how his life would be without you. The prospect of being alone has become something he never wants to experience ever again.  

Other than panicking and either laying down or standing up, face pale and eyes wandering rapidly, Saeran would bring his hands to his head and aggressively ruffle his hair in discomfort. A few tears may even stream down his pale cheeks, falling to the ground below him, or streaming down his neck depending on the severity. His heavy breathing reflects the discord in his mind, and he becomes unable to collect his thoughts. That is, until you take him into your arms and tell him everything will be okay, wipe his tears, soothe his thoughts, and heal his wounds. Shed light on his darkness, bring him out of his constant loop of terror. You are his comforter and he is your comfort, vice versa. 

Hello! Thank you so much for this! I literally jumped when I found this, I'm so happy I got an ask :D hope you enjoyed this, T turned into some angst but I really hope it turned out how you expected.

[quirklessidiot]

; inglorious bastard (Crown Prince!Hirofumi Yoshida x Bodyguard!F!Y/N) ; drama, sick romance, and mild angst (one shot) ; Tyrannical princes don’t care for their subordinates, especially the ones of the lower caste yet Hirofumi Yoshida is more than willing to show just how far and how much he cares for you -- his cute little soldat.

Warnings: language, crossdressing!Y/N, mentions of social class, mentions of war, blood, violence, attempted rape (verbal harrasement), mild yandere!yoshida (soldat is french for soldier)

notes: the title of the oneshot banner is entitled, 'running away at night' havent read it but yeah, i finally get to write for chainsaw man oof T-T @bachirawr thanks for the push missmaam :")

csm library

The god of luck had never been by your side.

Now that you look at it, as your ass lands flat on the rough soil of the stables with your back pressed against the hard wooden fence with three full sized men in front of you, you’ve come to accept the fact that this might be the end for you.

Of course, you could fight them.

They had more handicaps than you had, their stances were off and relaxed. It would be easy for you to try and dismantle their little group.

You were considered to be a prodigy of swordsmanship after all, the eldest ‘boy’ of your family who is apparently going to bring fame and glory back to your fallen house. A story that could be told to children. For usually, these tales would lead to happily ever after and beautiful endings. At least, that’s what it was supposed to be.

In your case though, it was the opposite.

This is because you are no man.

You are a woman through and through.

Your older brother, the one whose name you had stolen, is a coward. He had ran away along with his lover to elope in a far-off town, only to leave a letter addressed to your weary mother and sickly father. With the war brewing in the west and the blood shed not even stopping for a moment, the emperor had ordered each house may it be the poor, the ones fallen from grace, or the rich to send one male to participate in the battlefield.

You couldn’t let your father go, he may have served twenty or so years ago but he’s feeble and at times, amnesic and careless due to age, something you couldn’t blame him for. The very moment he steps foot in the battlefield, he’d be as good as gone and that would only affect your poor mother’s mental health and well-being. Your youngest brother, on the other hand, was only sixteen years of age when the news of the war had broken out. It’s clear he was too young and immature to face such terrors. His swordsmanship, as well, wasn’t as good as yours nor your older brother’s. You could tell that he wouldn't last even a minute out here.

You had to step up to save face and try to give your family their glory back.

It’s a shame that with the events going on in front of you now you wouldn’t be able to do so. The ones who had found you out were sons of earls and viscounts and your father was only but a knight, of a fallen peerage at that. If you were to hurt them, you could have your hands cut off and your eyes gouged out. If you were to sit still and let them have their way with you, there is no telling what would happen after, especially if you got caught. The crowned prince that you served would have your head separated from your body due to perjury.

The tyrant prince hated liars, most especially.

You draw your lips between your teeth, enough to taste the coppery rancid on your palette whilst you try to think of a better response to the circumstance you were in, “No wonder the crowned prince likes having you around, L/N…” the brunette grinned, bending down to your level to trace a finger up your jaw. Their is only abhorrence painted on your features to show distaste towards them, “Not only are you not hard to look at but you also have holes enough for us…” you try to not let the fear waver you, instead, you only spat at there boots.

“You better hope for shit I won’t have your heads sent back to your families…” your e/c hues are only filled by fire and blood, if they were going to do what you think they were doing, you might as well cut off their limbs.

The man lets out a belly-load of laughter, not even scared because they knew you were just a girl now, “What’cha gon’ do about it, princess?” the other one teased, his accent leaking off as he bends down to your level, “You can’t touch us, were-”

Before he could even finish his sentence, you grab him by the hair, letting his face kiss the ground. The remaining pair had their eyes as wide as saucers when their companion let out a painful wheeze, their positions comprised. The man’s crimson substance trickled down his nose and stained the sacred grounds of the crowned prince’s personal stable.

You were going to get in trouble for this but you might as well go down there with a proper fight. Swiftly, you grab one of the sticks at the back and snap them in half, bending downwards in a fighting stance, “You do know that his highness has me on the battlefield, right?” you tilt your head, raising your self-built weapon, “...Right next to him...Do you actually think that I’m just there for decoration?” your eyes narrow explicitly, pointing at the sharp end of the stake.

The one on the ground tries to raise his head but you only kick him square at the face, letting him out another groan. This was the problem with men, they loved to think that women were like glass.

Vulnerable.

Destructible.

It’s a shame that they forgot that if they tried to break it, it could cut them and make them bleed.

“You fucking bi-” one of them tries to explain, reaching out to throw a sloppy punch but you easily dodge him and jab the blunt part of the stick to his stomach. Despite the military training, noble men were easier to pummel down than the ones of the lower caste. Ironically, they were not as strong or daunting as the crowned prince you serve. They were idiots who could be lumped with the likes of a court jester.

You turn to the other one, kicking him in the nether regions and before the bloody nose individual could get ahold of you, you grab him by the neck, arm locking him and pointing the sharp end of the stick at his neck, pressing it lightly just so he could feel the end, “Anyone goes near, I’m puncturing the veins and this guy dies on the spot.” he only lets out a loud squeak, face turning ashen white that you seemed to be serious with your threat.

“Huh,” a familiar voice interrupts the four of you, making your hair stand on the end. Your tunneled vision finds a very familiar and ominous presence standing there, an amused smile on his lips as he slowly raises his hands to give a round of applause as if he was engrossed by some sick opera, “You never cease to amaze me, my little soldat…” you shakily let go of the noble, dropping the handmade weapon to the ground.

“Your...your highness…” you’re immediately on your knees, head tilted downwards, not even daring to look him in the eye. The three nobles follow suit, fear flowing through their veins as well from the ill-humored royal in front of you.

With obsidian eyes that could rival the night, midnight-black hair swept to the side, and a strapping built from being the front-liner of the war for the past four years; Hirofumi Yoshida’s beauty could be comparable to a fallen angel. The man was as cruel and could be the incarnate of Lucifer himself. He lived in blood shed, bathed in chaos, and only was interested in having the throne for himself.

You knew he was just waiting patiently to strike them all down to get what he wanted.

Everyone was just his prey.

“Don’t stop on my account, my cute soldat…” he walks towards the four of you, the heavy footsteps of his boots are the only thing that can be heard, “They were bothering you, weren’t they?” he turns to them, “You do know I don’t like my people getting touched, right?” He only draws a small part of his blade and the men’s eyes widen. faces turning ashy and grey at the sudden threat.

Yoshida had a facet of insanity, every tyrant had one because no one of the sane mind would commit those different atrocities, only he was better at hiding it, “It’s merely a little spat, your highness.” You try to play down the situation, not wanting to see carnage in front of you, “I-I was at fault…” you shut your eyes tight.

“Huh…” the raven-haired smile turned upside down at your response and without even saying anything more, he unsheathed his sword, slitting one of the individuals head down with not even a single bit of hesitation, the sound of a head falling and rolling down the ground makes you internally shake while his other companions let out a small shriek.

Despite seeing such violence these past four years, his unfazed attitude towards butchery was something else.

“You two,” he points the sharp end of his sword, “Leave... unless you want to be living pieces of meat for the wolves tonight...”

You watch them scamper away like rats yet you remain on the spot. You try to maintain your calm façade, had he heard of the conversation? What would he ever do to you, now? You want to raise your hand, maybe even beg for him to spare you if he had ever heard you but he only thumbs down the blood that sullied your features.

“You have something to say to me, my little soldat?”

“I- your highness-” you try to stammer out an excuse but you could hear him clicking his tongue in dismay. You were done for, he’d have your head in a pike. Worse, he’d deliver it to your family’s front door.

You could only imagine your mother’s face.

You’re ready to be the receiving end of his blade but instead of the sharp end, only callus hands cup one of your cheek as he bends down to your eye level. Dilated pupils only stare at your fear stricken ones, his rough fingers tilt your head to face him, “My, I’m quite stupid…” he remarks, “How could I not have known that my cute little soldat is actually a woman?”

When the devil finds out who you truly are, you could only hope that he’d strike a deal at the expense of your life but you know that this tyrannical prince was not that merciful, “I-I...I have committed agave sin and I shall pay with my life, your majesty.” You try to look down but he tightens his hold, refusing to let you go, “Please don’t kill my family, they know nothing of this.” you truthfully spoke.

The midnight-haired prince continues to smile, how adorable. No wonder you bathed separately from all the other swines and you’d usually avoid his gaze and turn slightly red when he tried to change in front of you and invited you to that hot spring one time.

It seemed like that fifth year resignation wouldn’t be a problem anymore. By the looks of it, he could have you by his side permanently now. His cute little soldat, forever by his side.

“Now why would I kill my cute little soldat?” he hummed, continuing to cup your cheek. You could feel a jolt of ominous darkness fill your thoughts, nothing would ever come good after this, “I’m not sure if you’ve heard but I’m looking for an empress...I’m sure the empire would value a strong and strategic individual such as you as my partner…”

There is only the inability to even let out a reply, the tightness of breath as if someone had ripped out your voice box. That wasn't the response you were prepared for, “I could never, I do not stand on par with his highness…” you tried to excuse yourself with anything but that sort of life. You’d never want to enter the court, especially with such a man.

“What are you talking about?” he mutters, dipping his head down, brushing his lips on the shell of your ear. The sudden intimate contact only makes your face turn pallid and tremble like a rabbit caught in a trap, “Not only would you make a great mother of the empire, you’d also be a great mother to our children in the future…”

[gojoho]

PATIENCE

• pairing; au!ryomen sukuna x reader

• premise; you were different than the rest, and with a simple touch the devil makes peace with his boredom for the taste of your skin.

• words; 2,798

• note & warning; every time i proofread what my demon chose to write at three in the morning i cry. why am i like this? honestly, i had so much trouble with sukuna it's amazing that i found a ground to make this on. anyway...unprotected sex ( wrap it up or pack it up ), dirty language, ownership, creampie-breeding kink? i never know which one it is, these mfs just never pullout. enjoy i suppose?

Sukuna was accustomed to the cults that proudly proclaimed him as their leader, or better yet, The Chosen. False disciples to his name, many of which tried to justify their treacherous lives in comparison to his glory. A pathetic bunch he wasted little time over, not one of them much of a rivalry towards that of a king. Though your blood was far too innocent, even for a ruthlessly being as himself, he would not take on such a burdened responsibility. Having been blamed for far less, he wouldn’t live this one down. Feasibly the only reason death escaped you.

Obsession, fascination, none of which seemed that far from one another with him, nor did it matter. At any capacity mortals were tedious, their petty materialistic need; gold this, that, and whatnot. Maybe he was just bored, but then he wouldn’t be giving you much credit, would he? He was quite patient for his tetchy personality, letting you grow accustomed to his territory, where you’d spend the rest of your days. A cub seeing the pride lands for the first time.

“Follow the rules, and you’ll do just fine little cub.” You never shied from his touch, letting him indulge your soft skin, squeezing, nipping, kissing every and anywhere he pleased. But your worth was still up for question thus far, what did you bring that the others couldn’t.

“Open.” You would sit between his legs, knees bent to his divinity abiding every command. Allowing his salty fingers against your tongue, their cleanliness unbeknownst to everyone except him, but it only made you suck on them more. “So eager for me to ruin you.”

That made two of you, but he wouldn’t, not just yet.

He kept you, his precious new pet, close. Allowing your scent to fill his bed, swarm his clothes, and plague him with a hunger driven by an appetite that was you. It wasn’t as if he didn’t trust you, he didn’t trust anyone, but he did trust your behavior. The way you managed to curl up against him at night, your soft snores fanning his back, no matter how much space there was in his bed. How you followed behind him everywhere he went, involuntarily making things less...irritating. Yet your consistency didn’t extend towards the others. Vicious and vengeful, they’d see to it that he’d fall by any means necessary. Even if it meant going through you or letting it be by your own hand.

“Cub,” he’d call you over, legs wide and waiting. You’d mount him facing forward, shamelessly letting your body unwind against his touch.

Fingers working the robes from your frame with ease, instant access to the skin beneath. All while his lips worked around your neck, touching up his handiwork of pink and purple blotches around it. The product of every session. Before he’d break you off, truly make you his, preparation was in order. It’s started with your chest, his hold over your bosom, the small mouthes in each hand working their peaks. Swirling sucking nibbling away at their tenderness until you’d grind against his bulge. Drenching him with your arousal. Clothes only got in his way, he’d have you roam around naked if he pleased but that was sight met only for his eyes, and his alone. Your robes, makeshift Sukuna hand-me-downs, was a barrier between the world and what was his.

After all, it was his touch that made you a mess. ”You're already so wet for me, little cub. Maybe I'll fuck you tonight. Maybe.”

He moved a hand to your heat, parted your folds with two slender fingers while the other hand still devoured your nipple. Sukuna was greedy, common knowledge to anyone who came across the curse, but with a hunger driven by your flesh, he was more insatiable than ever. It wouldn't be long until you were writhing in his lap, every bit of noise coming from your lips. Crying out as he worked your orgasm with his fingers plunged deep in your depths and the tongue on his palm lapping at your clit feverishly.

”Kuna,” you'd mewl, with arms stretched up to his face. The only person still alive to say it let alone give him a nickname.

The rules were simple;

Speak when spoken too

Eye contact

No kissing

A cruel rule that reminded you what the relationship was. He wasn't your lover or anything to you. You belonged to him and he'd use you however he saw fit. If that meant raw dogging you, believe he'd fuck you silly.

Simple, but still difficult nonetheless. He watched your face upturn in admiration, eyes flickering between his and his lips with each whimper. You wanted to kiss him, have his tongue so far down your throat until you choked. Sukuna knew all too well the look you gave him and smirked pressing his fingers deeper, taking your wanton ones to hold his cheek into his mouth. The closet you've gotten to a kiss, but soon your eyes would wander to mess that was your body, watching him unravel your seams, the first orgasm shuddered throughout you.

The first time he had his way, you'd barely made it past one orgasm from his fingers. Now it was six, with at most his fingers and three mouths. He wondered if you’d handle his cock if thrown into the mix. With that thought alone his mind wandered, you handled his hands well but the mystery behind your lips made him twitch just thinking about it. A pretty face with such a content expression, so grateful he granted you a full mouth. Could you handle all of him? If you could, he would've taken what was already his, turned you inside out, and left your body useless to any other being but him.

He deprived himself of a release, letting it build along his thighs and boil at the deepest parts of his body. You were going to take it all from him, feed his hunger while he quenched yours. Truly teaching you what it meant to belong to Ryomen Sukuna, The Great King of Curses.

Each session left you craving more, made your hips sink further against his moving in pure need. Sukuna let you wallow in your tension, desire unkempt and rowdy beneath his nose. You were conflicted between the logic prancing your mind and the hunger of your heat. Where the thought of him feeding you more than just a few fingers made it throb for a release, to be relieved from the fear that kept it empty and unfulfilled.

You'd missed the comfort his presence brought to the bed when pressing matters stole his attention, without it sleep was surreal. Eluding your conscience till he would come back late into the morning, exhaustion settling through the afternoon if he allowed you to. Until one afternoon where he’d prepare to set off again, another village another reign of terror, Sukuna almost missed the tiny grasp at his robes. The few steps he took towards to the exit fell short by his other end.

”Please,” you'd whisper out pleading for him to stay with a mere word.

For a minute, with his sudden stride and grip over your jaw, you think it's enough. That the way he searched your eyes with his bright red pair, you thought you’d convince him. ”If you expect me to abandon my duties for that cunt of yours, you’re going to have to try harder than that little cub.”

His lips ghosted yours, taunting that separate ache from the rest of your body. Practically testing you to see if you’d break one of his rules; screaming to go ahead, kiss him.

”Well then?” he cooed, lips nearly there but your silence only irritated him. Did he spoil you too much, indeed give you too much credit and mistaken you for something you weren't—

”Please Kuna, I need you.”

”Cute…” He smirked, thumb slipping between the two of you teasing your bottom lip. ”No.”

It was a lie if he said he wouldn't turn you around right there and give in to the temptation. Fill your womb with what felt like decades' worth of his cum. Staining his sheets and your insides. Sukuna already knew you needed him, it was because of that need, that the light in your eyes settled to a palpable glow. Later completely gone by the time of his return.

Sukuna never thought to imagine you upset, not with the way you clung to him. Never did he think it would upset him as much as it did. You slept far from his end of the bed, shielding your body from his touch with the linen. The nerve of you, but he knew it was only a matter of time until he’d have you in his lap again.

Wrong.

Too much time had passed since he denied you of your request, too much time since he’s touched you, too much time since you’ve touched him.

“Cub” he called, but for the first time, he was met with hesitance.

You sat on his lap, back to his chest as per usual, but without your usual excitement. Nothing he couldn’t fix, and like always he started with your chest, getting you to flood over his crotch. By then Sukuna would’ve gotten at least a whimper but you remain uncharacteristically quiet to his touch, jabbing at his ego. Come to find out you’d bitten your lip, holding off from letting him hear just how good he was making you feel.

“Brat,” he hissed with the teeth in his hand nibbling at nothing but your clit but even then the most he got was a huff. “Fine, if that’s how you want to play this game.”

It didn’t take much to lift you up from his chair, face planting you straight into the bed. You yelp at the sudden grip over your waist as it hauls your bottom half into to air. This was far from what he planned, but he’d be a fool to let you carry on with your childish ways.

There was no protest with the way he positioned himself to his knees behind you, shedding himself of his robes, setting his cock free into the late-night air. You would never shy away from looking at him naked, curious of every black line, where they connected and didn’t connect. Still, only catching brief glimpses of him, but now that it was there before you—just one taste, that was enough right? It would make any man happy to hide his cock in a pretty mouth like yours, burying it far beneath your throat, hell it made Sukuna weigh his options but he was beyond horny and irritated.  

He gifts himself a few strokes, over your cunt, introducing it to its owner. Coating himself in the mix of his salvia and your arousal before pushing the tip past the slick gates of his personal Eden. He sunk into your bowels just past the tip before meeting the resistance of your walls. There was no distinction as to whether you’d been too tight or that he was too big, just that it made him want more. A snug fit, one in which he yearned to destroy, leaving you walls irreversibly stretched.

Your arms flailed around, desperate to find anything to grip onto but Sukuna didn’t give you much of a chance before introducing the rest of his inches to your heat.

“Fuck,” you whined. A squeak of unbearable amazement that all of him was inside you. “Wait.”

He was going to bury himself down to the hilt, each time, fuck you till you were a simpleton. It was always his intention to do so, but your impatience got the best of him.

”Quiet, ” he growled spreading your ass to see himself encased by your insides. Surprisingly you swallowed him whole, but he was sure if you kept squirming away it’d be even more painful. ”This is what you wanted, wasn't it? My cock in this slutty hole of yours.”

”Kuna please.”

”Please Kuna, I need you—is that not what you said?”

”Yes…but fuck—”

”Well now you got me, so keep fucking still and take it.” He shooed your pleading palm from his view and adjusted himself. The movement drove him deeper and you mewled beneath him like a feral feline.

A draft followed behind his pelvis as he pulled out only about halfway, your pussy gripping him as he did. He didn’t trust you wouldn’t squirm again and anchored your hips to his grip. Snapping into you once more, stretching more than his previous thrust.

Sukuna took pride in the size of his cock, in the way it left room for only one, only him. You were going to split in two, or at least it felt like it; he was so big, out of place, but just big. Though that was merely the calm before the storm, with no confirmation let alone sign to warn you, he moved again. Starting off with a strong rhythm that rocked the entire bed. He didn’t do slow, his adjective was to punish, ruin, destroy exactly why you were to be prepared.

With a guttural groan, you felt his cock work, biting against the linens as it drilled in and out of your slickness, squelching all around it.

“Listen to that,” he cooed. “Telling me to wait when your pussy sounds like this. I’m going to fill you up so well. Is that what you want kitten?”

Kitten…

An upgrade from little cub you suppose. The harder he goes, the louder both ends of your body get. Wanted was putting it loosely, it was something, if not the only thing, you needed. Yet it’s still not enough, and so Sukuna stops, leaving you lost to the pleasure he provided. Still full with his cock you moan, pleading for him to continue, eyes barely open and lips pierced by your top teeth. “You know the rules. Speak.”

Bucking against him, desperate for any friction, you whined. “Kuna.”

“Whining gets you nowhere,” He said teasing you with slow strokes in time with your desperate hips. “Answer. The. Question.”

“Yes, ” You were begging for it, the high fading from the mind a little too quickly. ”I need it, all of it.”

Now that you stroked his pride, it was only fair he’d returned the favor. Fleeing from their post against your chest, Sukuna’s hands reach up to your throat. Pulling you up to your own knees, squeeze gently. Pumping into your dripping cunt faster, harder, deeper. Strumming at the chords of your orgasm with each lewd noise he pulled with his cock. Saliva dribbling from your chin.

“Look at you,” he grunted, his own pleasure catching up to him. “Drooling from both ends.”

“Sukuna.”

He leaned into your hands, giving permission for them to tug at his roots, while he nuzzled his nose over your cheek, taking in every crude scent. “Hmm, fucking perfect.”

A compliment if he’d ever given you one, his irritation fleeing from his body and the only thing he can think about is just how good it felt to finally be inside you. The ache of his cock finally being milked.  His hand traveled down your body, caressed every curve, every nipple until they settled on your hips.

”Get down, and open up for me.” he ordered quietly, letting his pace falter before getting an obedient ’hmm’

Anything for Sukuna, anything that brought on your orgasm. You arched forward and parted your knees wider, sighing from his hand over your ass again. Kneading and pulling each cheek apart. Picking up the pace again, he wanted to see his cock twitch inside you. See how your body would react. Sukuna wanted to see the mess he made of your hole.

You let a series of colorful curses fly, it was hard to say anything with the explosion inside you, the heat itching just beneath your skin as the adrenaline spiked and rocked you into oblivion.

“Sukuna,” you managed to say but he already knew, feeling the coiling contraction refusing to let him go. A deadly grip that sucked his orgasm through.

The visible veins around his cock, throbbing beneath the thin layer of skin. Slightly moving as the rest of his length spasmed violently against the confines of your flutters. ”Fuck, look at you go, milking me dry.”

His cum wasn't as fluid as it was thick, weeks of pent up lust oozing from your folds. But it meant nothing more but for Sukuna to click his tongue and thrust forward gently a few more times. Fucking it all back into you. Your body twitched ”Oi, shape up, I've only just begun. Besides, I want to try that pretty little mouth of yours.”

You were going to ruin him, as he was you.

[quandaryqueen]

Wake up alone

Gotham Edward Nygma X Reader

What's supposed to be a good day, takes a turn the moment he woke up alone.

Edward Nygma woke up feeling rejuvenated for the day. My, in all his days, this way maybe the first time his bouts of insomnia did not decide to hit him full-force today.

He looked to his side to see his sleeping partner, their back turned against him and huddled beneath the blanket. The man felt a certain giddiness in his chest, a smile crossing his features first thing in the morning at the sight of you.

What a cute little thing, wrapped from head to toe. Were you that cold? Ah, maybe he should have turned the thermostat after all and ignore your insistence. You have always been so polite.

He pulls you to his chest by draping his arm on you, peeling the cover of your head. God knows if you can even breathe under that thing. He steal a kiss in your temple, nuzzling his cheek against your head with a content look.

You look so peaceful, just sleeping and undisturbed. So serene, so cute, so still...

Still...

Still?

Nygma's eyes flew wide open in panic and in the haze left by the lingering sleepiness, he shot off his bed. Your name slipped from his lips out of worry, when he realised your chest was not rising nor falling under his touch. Your name slips again in a silent whisper, a whimper, as he approached with wary.

His trembling hand held your shoulder and turned you over.

"No... No... No..." Edward shook his head, the reservoir in his eyes bursting uncontrollably. "Not again please..."

"Good morning sleeping beauty~"

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO THEM?!"

Edward's blurred vision scan your body, Rigor Mortis has yet to occur meaning your death had transpired mere moments after the pathologist woke up. He was forced to recognise there were outlines of fingers— his fingers— on your neck, is when he found out The Riddler got out of control again.

"No-no-no-no-no, please god no!" He cradles you against his body, tears dripping from his eyes and into your face. Through hiccups and profuse apologies, his thumb ran across your cheeks to erase the tears that fell upon his lashes. "Y/N, I'm so sorry, please, oh god—"

"Ugh, look at yourself. Who would be scared if you're all snotty?"

The Riddler didn't like you all that much— always so fucking obnoxious with you and your soft heart, influencing the weak-willed that is Edward Nygma. And for once, the Riddler thought that Ed would have learned after Kristen, after Isabella, after Oswald, after Lee and goddamn it, now you—!

"I am so sorry, Y/N. Please forgive me, god please I love you!"

The display was making the Riddler sick, he could throw up. All he wanted was to paint Gotham with questions and enigma, and riddles and puzzles, he is a man with simple needs and wants, why did you have to come along? Riddler made sure Edward will never be ever coming back, what substance did you concoct to bring him back again?

It's been long since the Riddler has spread terror against the morose city, but no, Eddie had to play Mr. Goodie-two-shoes to woo you. The alter ego wanted to stretch his legs out so bad that he would get between the relationship of Edward and you, if that's what it takes. And did so, successfully. Now the obstacle is gone, time to strap a bomb I'm some random kid's backpack liek he always wanted.

"Tsk, look at you." The Riddler points at Edward with a condescending furrowed brows, eyes casted on the tip of his nose. Edward remains a pale mess muttering apologies, shedding tears and caressing your cold face. "We used to be so liberated, you and I were always having a blast terrorising Gotham with riddles—"

"You did! Not me! I'm not a monster!"

"I'm a part of your psyche, genius. What part of split personality disorder do you not get?" The Riddler rolls his eyes. Seriously? This again? He thought they were over it in like, season one, but he digresses. "I know all your thoughts, your subconscious... And your subconscious has always wanted to know how afraid they look when you're on top of them, with their life at your hands, their fate in your mercy..."

"No I don't... I love them, they loved me! I could never think of such a thing about them! They're the only person that truly loved me!" Edward shouts through tears, sniffing for a moment to pause. "They don't deserve this... They're irreplaceable..."

"God, you're so pathetic. I bet you said that to Kristen... Or Isabella... Or Oswald... Or Lee... Y/N's not that irreplaceable, seeing as you replace your exes almost immediately after tragedy struck." Riddler shrugs. "Sorry not sorry."

The Riddler sunk from his braven posture. God, he has been stuck in this body with the host for so long and yet he still can't stand the whiny man.

"You know what? I'mma take the wheel for the time being. You stay put."

After that, Edward blanked out of reality. He didn't come back until he realised he was worn out and covered in dirt, that's when he knew the Riddler disposed of your body... Was it weird he was thankful that the alter ego didn't do anything to your body?

"Yes, I didn't saw their hand off and put it in the vending machine. I made them a cozy bed under a bed of (favourite flowers), next to mother dearest's grave~"

What is Edward supposed to do now? Your evidence would be difficult to erase, your friends and family cared deeply about you surely they would dig around and find out—

"This is why I'm taking the reigns again. And you, stay back!"

And just like, Edward Nygma's consciousness has been dormant again.

[lea-andres]

I creep in with another 🌹 so I can see the hide and seek goodness 👀

*glances around and discreetly accepts the 🌹*

This is in When the Day Met the Night, I can't remember if I said that or not. It's been a long day for me. @_@

Context: Charmy, Ray, and the Sonic Fan Club kids (if you do not remember them from IDW/haven't read IDW, they're just a bunch of kids in Spiral Hill that idolize Sonic and Co.) beg Jewel to play hide and go seek with them. Jewel enlists Bark to help her, because there's so many kids and it's just her seeking. There's a cute scene where she reassures one of the younger kids that Bark may look really scary, but he's actually super nice. (one of the many "If they'd heard that, we could skip most of this fic!" Moments, because Bark's convinced he's going to scare Jewel again if he's not careful for a LONG TIME in this fic. 😭) It's their turn to hide and the kids' turn to seek now, and this is the point where hide and go seek starts to devolve into... Whatever this is. 😂

Also, if anything said in this is incorrect based on events in Archie... No it's not. That never happened. I didn't see it. 🙈😂

"So where's he hiding, Jewel?" The wolf girl asked, as all the kids started looking to her.

"Okay, 100% honesty, he was hiding there when I hid," Jewel pointed to the tool shed.

"So I have no idea where he is now."

"HE MOVED! THAT'S CHEATING!" One kid shouted.

"NO IT'S NOT!" Another yelled.

"Wait, moving's cheating? You guys need to tell Espio that, he cheats every time!"

The kids all began to argue, until the deer boy stood up.

"SONIC FAN CLUB, LET'S PUT IT TO A VOTE!" Jewel smiled in amusement as the children huddled up to vote.

She noticed a pair of hands enter her peripheral vision, reaching for her. She almost screamed, but calmed down when she recognized them. Jewel allowed the hands to gently take hold of her sides, and drag her carefully across the top of the haybale stack and back behind it.

"Hey." Bark greeted her with an amused grin as he set her down on the ground in front of him.

"Okay, THIS is definitely cheating." Jewel whispered teasingly, crossing her arms.

"Cheating?" He gave her a look of fake shock.

"Bark, I'm no expert on hide and seek, but I'm pretty sure stealing back your teammates after they've been found isn't allowed." The polar bear shrugged.

"That's what those kids get for expecting an ex criminal to play by the rules." Jewel clamped her hands over her mouth to muffle her giggles.

"Okay, the vote is in! Changing hiding spots during hide and go seek is-"

"Jewel's gone!" Ray interrupted.

Bark and Jewel huddled together behind the haystacks, snickering at the kids' shocked reactions to this.

"Jewel! You can't rehide! That's cheating!" Charmy yelled.

"Wait!" The little butterfly girl shrieked.

"Jewel would never cheat at hide and seek!"

"Goody two shoes." Bark teased softly. Jewel elbowed him with a laugh.

"You're right, Bark must've kidnapped her!" The wolf girl finished. The polar bear's breath caught in his throat briefly, afraid the kids were being serious, but he relaxed when several fake screams of terror rang out. The kids were still playing.

"Come on, guys! Let's find Bark and rescue Jewel!" Charmy announced. The other kids cheered in agreement.

"This... took a turn." Jewel blinked in surprise.

"First time getting kidnapped?" Bark joked. She let out an awkward laugh.

"Actually, no. I have been once... By accident." She gave Bark an apprehensive look.

"Has Team Hooligan ever-"

"No, we'd never." Bark interrupted before she could finish. She looked relieved at that.

"How do you get kidnapped by accident?" He changed the subject quickly, giving her a confused look. They both jumped at the sound of footsteps approaching.

"I'll tell you later, we need to move." Jewel whispered.

"You mean I need to move. I kidnapped you, remember?" Bark corrected jokingly, picking her up again and depositing her on his shoulder.

"You're right. Sorry, I'm bad at this." Jewel giggled, gently gripping his fur for support as he started to shift around the side of the haystack.

"I hope you're never good at it." He muttered seriously, before trying to dart back toward the tool shed. Unfortunately, a kid saw him.

"I SEE HIM! AND HE'S GOT JEWEL!"

"Help! Help me, Sonic Fan Club! You're my only hope!" Jewel called dramatically, resting a hand against her forehead in mock distress.

"Nerd." Bark teased softly, as he tried to outrun the gang of kids making chase.

"You're one to talk if you recognized THAT." Jewel fired back with a giggle.

The children had caught them before he could reply, and in seconds had pried Jewel out of his grip.

"We saved you, Jewel!" The butterfly girl cheered as she, the goat girl, and the pig boy pulled her away from the scuffle.

"You did, thank you!" She glanced back toward Bark. Charmy and Ray were hanging from his arms as the deer boy and the wolf girl were climbing up his back. The kids were trying to pull the polar bear down, while he was trying to shake them loose.

"Kids, be gentle with Bark please! Remember he's got a fight tomorrow-"

"DIE!" The wolf girl interrupted Jewel's pleas with a loud yell, swinging her fist into the air, and pretending to stab Bark in the heart with an imaginary knife. He staggered, and then collapsed to the ground dramatically, carefully pinning Charmy and Ray underneath him. The polar bear closed his eyes, stuck out his tongue, and played dead.

"Ugh, Bark! You're heavier than Vector!" Charmy complained, he and Ray struggling to free themselves. The deer boy and the wolf girl scrambled to help them. Jewel collapsed onto her knees, laughing too hard to keep standing.

"Bark, are you okay?" She forced out, taking deep breaths to try to recompose herself. He briefly flashed her a thumbs up, then his hand went limp again.