#so no time to take and fully enjoy an edible

[elfgremlin]

goodbye taking edibles after work almost everyday it was nice to know you

[sleepyhoon]

TWO MOONS - L.HS

pairing. plug!heeseung x reader

genre. smut, 18+ content, one shot, drabble. MDNI!

word count. 4k+

warnings. drug & alcohol consumption, partying, swearing, sex while intoxicated, short smut [ dry humping, multiple orgasms, oral (f. receiving), fingering ]

synopsis. based off of this hard thought! plug!heeseung who likes you so much that he's convinced himself that you're kinda evil.

a/n. sorry this took so long lol hope u enjoy regardless :) no part 2 so plss dont request it but maybe some drabbles!! also not fully proofread so pls disregard any typos or grammatical errors hehe

Never in his life did Heeseung predict he’d be getting bitched around by a girl arguably much shorter, physically weaker, and far less intimidating than him. And yet here he was, shirtless in his kitchen at two in the morning on his third attempt of baking edibles all because you were too scared to smoke a little weed. 

Fucking ridiculous.

It’s his own fault, really, he should’ve known that innocent, good girl persona you put on was all an act you use to control people – specifically men. Stirring the dessert batter in the mixing bowl, Heeseung shakes his head at the memory of you tilting your head and batting your eyelashes at him as you spoke, your perfectly manicured nails – that you probably got some desperate bitchboy to pay for – tracing and lightly scratching his bicep.

“So,” you started, dragging out the ‘o’, “how much do you charge for edibles?”

Heeseung shakes his head, tracing the rim of his half-empty red solo cup as he responds, “Edibles aren’t my forte. You don’t smoke?”

“Not my forte,” you say in a mocking tone, making Heeseung chuckle. “It’s just too much, you know? The smell, how quick it kicks in…not for me. But, uh, if you don’t make them I’ll stop wasting your time, then.” You give Heeseung a friendly pat on the shoulder before turning on your heels, fully prepared to disappear back into the party and find someone who actually meets your needs.

“Wait!” Heeseung stops you, tugging on your arm until you’re back to facing him. He can’t fucking believe this bullshit manipulation tactic you’re using on him is actually working, he’s literally pulling on your arm like a child so you won’t leave him.

You raise a brow at him as you wait for Heeseung to continue, taking note of his sudden nervousness, “Yeah?”

“Uh…are you into, like, brownies? Or…”

The smirk you gave in response said enough, you’ve got him exactly where you want him.

He’d spent the next few hours browsing the aisles of Target, checking his phone every so often and checking off each ingredient as he tossed them into the bright red shopping cart. To make matters worse, you hadn’t even requested normal brownies, you wanted some shit he’d hardly ever heard of before: blondies. 

It was bad enough that Heeseung already couldn’t bake for shit, and here you were demanding he’d make something he’d never even tasted before; you really are a master manipulator.

His third and final attempt at baking the blondies were a success, his three roommates taste-testing the fresh batch as a final confirmation.

“I can’t even taste it,” Jake says, his brows shooting up in delight, “you sure you’re not forgetting the main ingredient?”

“That’s the whole point,” Heeseung explains, cutting the remaining batch into neat squares, “YN doesn’t want the taste to be too strong, she likes when it’s more subtle and takes awhile to kick in.”

“Are you her wife or her plug?” Sunghoon jokes from his spot on the couch, taking a small bite of his own blondie.

“Neither,” Jay inserts himself into the conversation, taking a seat next to Sunghoon, “I’m sure he wants to be both, though.”

“Fuck off,” Heeseung snaps, momentarily narrowing his eyes at his roommates. “We just met, I’m just trying to get to know her.” He sets the knife down, reaching into the wooden cabinet to retrieve ziplock bags.

“You’re already her bitch, what else is there to know?” Sunghoon half-jokes, resting his feet on the ottoman.

“I am not her bitch.”

He totally is, if the way he’s hurrying to send you a picture of the freshly made blondies is anything to go by.

Heeseung * 2:47 AM

[Attachment: 1 Image] Yooo

YN * 9:06 AM

omggggg  ur the fucking best how much??

You didn’t respond until the following morning, causing Heeseung to nearly jump out of his skin once he woke up to your texts. He turns on his side, elbow propped up against the mattress as he formulates a response.

Heeseung * 10:31 AM

1 for 10 or 2 for 15. venmo or cashapp But lmk if you want more 

YN * 10:40 AM

no cash? :(

Heeseung’s about to go on a long winded explanation about how money transferring apps are quicker and more convenient than accepting cash when you interrupt him by sending a photo.

YN * 10:41 AM 

[Attachment: 1 Image] plsssss i don’t trust cashapp and ive been having issues w my venmo acc :(

It’s a photo of the bottom half of your face, lips formed into a cute pout with your camera angled low enough to show off your cleavage. You weren’t even trying to be discreet, setting your forearm underneath your chest to make your boobs sit higher, the cheetah print material of your bra peeking out from under your too-small tank top.

Heeseung swallows hard, staring down at the photo with his pupils blown wide as his trembling fingers type out a response.

Heeseung * 10:50 AM

Actually you know what don’t even worry about it lmao Consider it a gift When r u free for pickup Or i can bring to u Either or is fine lol

YN * 10:59 AM

omg :o are u sure?  don’t want u to lose out on money >.<

Heeseung * 11:11 AM

It’s fine dw about me baby U picking up? Or want me to drop off On campus is too risky

YN * 11:12 AM

thank u hee!!!!!!! im done with classes around 4:30 i’ll pick up around then if that works also u responded at 11:11…angel number u must be my angel :o

There you go again with your subtle manipulation tactics that Heeseung swears won’t work on him. If there really is angel out of the two of you, it definitely wouldn’t be you, but Heeseung’s not too sure he’d be considered one either. After all, in the twelve minutes it took him to respond to your message, he spent ten of them fucking into his fist as he stared at the photo you sent.

His mind conjured up countless scenarios; leaving hickeys and bite marks across your chest, slipping his dick between your tits as you held them together for him, cumming all over them, fucking anything. Desperate wasn’t even the word.

Heeseung * 11:13 AM

Must be :)

After a month and a half of being your personal baker slash bitchboy, Heeseung really is convinced that you’re using him, yet he doesn’t seem to mind. If anything he’s grateful, fully aware that if it weren’t for him being your plug, the two of you likely never would’ve crossed paths despite attending the same universities.

There wasn’t an ounce of school spirit in his body, so he had little to no urgency to attend any of the sporting events you cheered at or one of the many school-sponsored events you were required to attend. Meeting you at that party not too long ago had been his first encounter with you ever, and you clearly left him with a great first impression on him.

Since that night, he’s found himself conjuring up a new batch of edibles for you every week; brownies, cupcakes, cereal bars, whatever the fuck you wanted, and half the time he’d do it for free if it meant he got to give it to you in person.

He still hasn’t convinced you to actually smoke, though, but maybe it’s for the best. The mere thought of getting high with you and how you’d stare him down with half-lidded eyes was enough to make his dick hard — in fact, it already has. Several times.

Enough time has passed to the point where it’s obvious to everyone, yourself included, that Heeseung has genuine feelings for you that go beyond a physical and sexual attraction. Sure, he’s still convinced that you’re a little bit evil and definitely manipulative, but he considers it part of the fun. He’s also deluded himself into having the “I can fix her” mindset that he’s been using to justify his actions of ignoring your red flags.

However, even if he can’t “fix” you, it wouldn’t be a huge loss. Red is his favorite color, after all.

“You sound…crazy, and she sounds crazier,” Jake leans against the kitchen counter, raising a concerned brow at Heeseung as he takes a sip of his drink.

“I’m not crazy,” Heeseung corrects, “and YN is…I don’t know, honestly. Leave her alone, dipshit.”

Jake throws a hand up in defense, glaring when a fellow partygoer accidentally bumps into him, nearly causing him to spill his drink. “Rather be a dipshit than a bitchboy.” He mutters loud enough for Heeseung to hear before groaning, “Wow, speak of the devil.”

Heeseung turns, following Jake’s line of sight until he spots you walking through the front door. Stunning as always, your khaki mini skirt and black halter top fitting as if they were custom designed for you and only you.

Despite extending you an invitation to Sunghoon’s birthday party, Heeseung was fairly certain you wouldn’t show up tonight, assuming you’d be consumed with cheer practice or one of your many extracurricular activities to attend. Yet, here you were, a wicked grin on your face as you made eye contact with Heeseung.

He gulps in return, eyes wide as he watches you walk over to him and Jake.

You stand beside Heeseung, shooting him a quick smile before directing your attention to Jake, “Sunghoon! Happy birthday, king!”

Jake side-eyes you, briefly glancing at Heeseung before responding, “I’m not…you know what? Nevermind, thanks.” He takes this as an opportunity to exit the conversation, giving Heeseung a light pat on the shoulder as he leaves.

“Didn’t think you’d be here.” Heeseung comments, leaning against the kitchen countertop.

You shrug, “Wasn’t doing anything else, figured it wouldn’t hurt to stop by for a little. Besides, I wanted to see you.”

“Yeah?” Heeseung asks, tongue darting out to lick his lips.

“Yeah,” you respond, taking a step closer and resting your hand on his bicep, “got anything for me?”

Fuck, Heeseung knew he should’ve made another batch of brownies or some shit. He seriously hadn’t been expecting you to show up tonight, otherwise he would’ve been prepared.

He shakes his head, “Not this time, you should’ve told me you were coming; I would’ve made something.”

You groan, momentarily tilting your head back, “I just wanted to surprise you.”

“Consider me surprised,” his hand lands on your waist, pulling your body until your flush against him, “why won’t you just smoke with me?”

You grimace, shaking your head in response.

Heeseung rolls his eyes, “Just once? I know your first time wasn’t that great, but, I really think you’d like it if you tried again.”

“I don’t know, Hee…”

“Tell you what,” Heeseung starts, clearing his throat, “smoke with me just this once, and your next few purchases are on me.”

It isn’t much of an offer considering most of the shit he gave you was either free or already extremely discounted, but your eyes light up regardless. “Really?”

Heeseung nods, “I swear.”

You think it over for a moment, the pros instantly outweigh the cons and lead you to accept Heeseung’s desperate offer. 

A few minutes later, you find yourself in a comfortable lounge chair with Heeseung in his backyard, grateful that the remaining partygoers opted to stay indoors, giving you privacy and alone time with him.

You’re sitting sideways on his lap, trying your best to ignore the feeling of his dick pressing right against your ass, neatly rolled blunt in one hand as he uses the other to fish a lighter from his pocket. “You’re nervous,” he comments.

You shake your head, “I’m not.”

“You are, I feel you shaking.”

“I’m fine, just kinda cold. Go on.”

Heeseung studies you for a moment, eye contact strong and intimidating as ever as he brings the blunt to his parted lips. You watch carefully as he brings the lighter towards the tip, focusing entirely too much on the concentrated look on his face as he lights it. Slowly, he begins to rotate it as the end continues to burn, taking a few small puffs here and there.

Satisfied with his creation, Heeseung takes a long, slow drag, inhaling the smoke into his lungs before titling his head away to exhale.

“Your turn,” he says, offering you the blunt.

You hesitantly stare down at it before accepting; it was intimidating to say the least, the scent alone strong enough to make your head hurt. Heeseung watches you patiently, eyes darting between your lips and the blunt in silence.

Deciding you need a little bit of encouragement, he brings his thumb to your lips, parting them slightly as his free-hand wraps around your wrist, “You’ll be fine, trust me.” 

Under the guidance of his calloused hand, you finally bring the blunt up to your lips and briefly inhale before immediately exhaling.

Heeseung chuckles, shaking his head, “How’d that feel?”

You ponder for a moment, passing the blunt back to Heeseung, “I don’t feel anything. Literally nothing.”

“I mean, yeah, you didn’t even inhale it.”

You roll your eyes, “Why are there so many steps? This is why I prefer edibles.”

“I’m just showing you that you have other options, babe.”

“Yeah, well I’m sticking to my baked goods. You can have the rest of that, I don’t want anymore.”

Heeseung’s well aware that you’re a woman of your word, and the chances of you ever smoking again were a definite zero, so trying to get you to change your mind was pointless. However, there is one thing that may just work on you.

“Mind if I try something?”

You perk up, “Try what?”

“I do all the work but you still get high.”

You raise a brow, “That’s possible?”

He nods, “All you’d have to do is take deep breaths.”

Taking a deep breath, you accept Heeseung’s offer with a sigh, resting a hand on his shoulder as you adjust yourself on his lap. “Fine.”

Here goes nothing.

He guides the blunt back to his lips, taking a long drag as he holds the smoke in his mouth. He tilts his head upward towards you, taking your chin in his hand, signaling for you to part your lips. You follow his command and part your lips open, just enough for Heeseung to close the distance and allow the smoke into your mouth, his lips barely brushing against yours in the process.

You take in a deep breath, eyes closed shut and inhale the smoke, careful not to exhale too quickly and have a repeat of your previous attempt.

“How was that?” Heeseung asks, taking note of your sudden silence.

Truthfully, it wasn’t bad. The smell is still too strong for your liking and requires much more effort than biting off a piece of dessert and calling it a day, but it wasn’t bad. You’re certain that Heeseung shotgunning it into your mouth only added to the experience.

“Not bad,” you admit, “probably because you did all the work.”

He chuckles at that, “I’ll always take care of you, remember that.”

Heeseung is having the time of his life, thoroughly convinced that he finally has some power over you. Here you were sitting on his lap in his backyard letting him blow smoke into your mouth. Sure, it may have taken a lot of convincing and begging on his end to get to this point, but none of that matters; baby steps are still movement.

As if the night couldn’t have gotten any better, you’re asking Heeseung to shotgun more smoke into your mouth over and over. He’s careful to maintain a calm and nonchalant demeanor as he does so, not wanting to come off as too eager out of fear of scaring you away. Or even worse, giving you back that power you have over him.

On the fifth time, you swipe your tongue across Heeseung’s bottom lip when he passes the smoke into your mouth, a low groan escaping from him in the process. He’s fully hard in his jeans by now, and there’s no way you can’t feel his dick pressing right into you. Despite the cold weather, your entire body feels warm all over, Heeseung only adding to the pleasure.

You should’ve taken Heeseung a bit more seriously when he said you’d still get high from this; after a few minutes, your limbs were already starting to feel lighter and weaker. A delicate, cloud-like haze fills your head; your vision blurs slightly and it takes a few minutes for you to fully relax.

Heeseung, attentive as ever, remains silent and still has he watches you; primarily due to the fact that you squirming around on his lap is only adding to the uncomfortable tightness in his jeans. One wrong move, and he’d surely be cumming in his boxers.

You rest your forehead against Heeseung, pressing a firm hand against his chest when he moves to blow more smoke into your mouth. He hums, staring up at with a concerned look on his face.

You close your eyes, mumbling, “Heeseung…”

He hums again in response, still holding the smoke in his mouth.

You open your eyes briefly before closing them again, balling up the collar of his shirt in your fist as you lean down to press your lips against his. He opens his mouth on instinct, as if it were a second nature, parting his lips slightly and exhaling the smoke into your mouth once again.

Heeseung absentmindedly sets the blunt down, his hands moving to your waist to pull you closer to him until your tits are pressed right up against his chest. He groans into your mouth at the feelings, tilting his head to allow himself further into your mouth. 

You cup his face in your hands, hips moving forward as you slowly begin to grind yourself against him. “Fuck,” he moans in a low voice, “keep doing that.”

You grind down harsher this time, capturing his moan in your mouth in the process. With each movement of your hips, a shiver descends down your spine at the friction; Heeseung is painfully hard, and from what you could feel, he was definitely packing. Bigger than what you would’ve expected.

It all feels too good; you grinding against him, the state of his high, your tongue in his mouth. It’s all so overwhelmingly euphoric that Heeseung hardly realizes how close he is to literally cumming in his boxers.

His body was always overly sensitive whenever he got high, and often avoided any sort of intimacy that involved another person due to how embarrassingly quick he would finish, and tonight doesn't seem to be any different. What makes matters worse is the fact that Heeseung was already desperately attracted to you and had been dreaming of this moment since he’d first met you.

He pulls away quickly, cursing under his breath, “YN, h-hold on,” he stutters, “slow down, please.”

You don’t listen; in fact, you can barely even hear him with how caught up you were in your own head. “Hmm? Say that again?”

“S-slow – ah, fuck – slow down for a sec, baby.”

His grip on your waist tightens, and despite the urgency in his tone of wanting you to slow down, he makes no effort to still your hips move you off of him. Fuck it, it is what it is.

“Why?” You question, tilting your head, but you’re a few seconds too late.

Heeseung’s entire body shivers, hips jolting upwards as he comes on himself, making a mess of his boxers. While that alone was definitely embarrassing, Heeseung is more annoyed over the fact that you’ve regained your power over him. His priorities were definitely fucked, but he didn’t even care; he could clean himself up later, but the damage to his ego would take longer to repair.

Your hands fly to your mouth in shock, eyes widening as you process what’s just happened, “Oh, Heeseung…” you mumble into the palm of your hands.

He throws his head back, eyes squeezed shut as he runs a hand down his face, “You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding.”

“It’s okay! It happens! No big deal!” You try to reassure him, but it goes in one ear and out the other.

Sure it happens and maybe it isn’t a big deal, but it is for Heeseung. He’s not the type to bust a nut over someone squirming around in his lap for ten minutes, this shit was fucking insanity.

“I’m seriously not like this, I’m just overly-sensitive when I’m high. I swear, I-”

“It’s fine, Heeseung,” you interrupt, standing from his lap, “if anything, I’m flattered! Why don’t you, uh, get cleaned up and I’ll see you later?”

“YN, come on, don’t do this.” He pleads, following you and you make your way towards the sliding door. 

“I told you, it’s fine! I’m not like,” you pause, opening the door with a loud grunt, “mad or weirded out or anything.”

You slip back into the living room, Heeseung hot on your tail with every step. “Let me make it up to you!”

You sigh, “Honestly, I don’t think you have it in you to do that right now.”

“I do! Just let me, please.”

“Heeseung, please drop it. I said it’s fine.”

“It’s not fine, at least let me eat you out or something!”

“Heeseung!” Your eyes widen at his lewd, shameless offer, “Lower your voice! We’re in a fucking party surrounded by people!”

He smacks his teeth, “I don’t care. Please, YN.”

“You don’t have to make it up to me, you do not owe me anything.”

A beat of silence passes, then he says, “Then do it for me. Please.”

Even though Heeseung was the one literally begging to go down for you, there is a possibility of him having some sort of power over you; or maybe you just have a soft spot for him. Either way, you end up lying in his bed twenty minutes later, skirt bunched up around your waist as Heeseung’s wet tongue circles your clit, desperate attempt at coaxing a second orgasm from you.

He hadn’t even realized he’d grown hard again just from eating you out, and would likely end up cuuming in his boxers again just from doing this.

“Fuck,” he moans into your folds, pulling away slightly to pepper kisses on your inner thighs, “been waiting so fucking long for this.”

“Yeah?” You question, your grip on Heeseung’s hair tightening.

This earns a low groan from him as he nods against your skin, “You have no idea.”

Deciding he’s spent enough time away from your cunt, his lips make their way back onto you; his tongue falls flat against you, dragging your wetness upwards towards your swollen clit before wrapping his lips around the sensitive bud.

Your body shivers, a beam of sweat dripping down your forehead as your second orgasm approaches. You’ve been eaten out before, countless times, but never like this. It was almost as if Heeseung was doing it for his own pleasure rather than your.

He teases your entrance with his finger before sliding two of them in with ease, curling them upwards and immediately hitting the spot you needed him the most.

“H-Heeseung…hold on…”

He hums, but he’s not really listening, too occupied with kitten-licking your clit and pumping his fingers in and out of you. The knot in your stomach finally snaps and you’re gushing against his hands and mouth, Heeseung only takes this as a sign to continue lapping at your cunt. You have to literally grab him by the hair and drag him away from you.

He stares up at you, pupils blown wide and his chin coated in your juices, but he definitely looks happy. “What?” he asks.

You struggle to catch your breath, “You’re hard again?”

He looks down at his crotch momentarily before shrugging, “I guess.”

“You…don’t you wanna do something about that?”

His eyes flash down to your cunt for a split second, “It can wait.”

You scoff, “Well, I need a minute.”

Heeseung nods in agreement, impatiently drumming his fingers on his bed as you flop against his mattress. “Ready?” He asks once a minute has passed.

“No.”

He sighs, then sighs again, and again and again until you let out a frustrated groan. “Go get me a glass of fucking water.”

“Okay!” He shouts while standing, exiting the bedroom in a hurry. Maybe you really do treat him like a bitchboy, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

[g1rld1ary]

overheard that she was nineteen - james potter x reader

wc: 1058

cw: nothing, one swear, reader is sad on their birthday, implied fem!reader but i don't think any pronouns

chat how many aura points do i lose for crying in the literal first 20 minutes of my nineteenth birthday :/ don't think about this fic too hard or you'll see it's more of a diary entry than work of fiction oopsie :')

You weren't feeling very special. To be quite honest, your day had been totally shit. It was your birthday, your nineteenth birthday and everyone had forgotten. Well, that wasn't true exactly, but nobody cared. Your parents had barely said 'happy birthday' when you called them, and only one of your friends had texted you. A sweet message, but still kind of depressing.

You knew it shouldn't have been a big deal, no one cared about nineteen, right? Eighteen was the big birthday and you'd had a good enough day last year, so you weren't really sure why this year had brought you down so much.

Maybe it was just because your love of birthdays was never reciprocated. A person's birthday could be the most exciting day of the year, and you were of the opinion that it should be, if possible. You were the one who showed up with a hand-baked cake on your friend's doorstep, without fail. It was something you enjoyed doing undoubtedly, you spent ages picking out which colour the icing should be and what edible decorations should go on top.

On top of that, you considered your defining talent to be writing cards. It was something you took pride in, penning almost-essays that encapsulated the breadth and depth of your love for your nearest and dearest. Proclamations of never-ending adoration, gratitude for years of friendship, the insides of your heart and soul sitting amongst fresh ink and scribbled hearts. You signed your name with a heart and a flower every time. Plus, you made particular efforts to come up with a creative pun or doodle for the front, just to keep things interesting.

So birthdays were things you held in high regard, and having yours seemingly mean nothing to anyone else was a bit of a mood killer if you were being totally honest. Still, what could you do? You picked yourself up, ate an uninspiring breakfast and went to uni.

You felt more anonymous than usual in class. With the semester having started only a week prior, you were in a sea of new people, none of them having any way of knowing it was your birthday, and you weren't quite at the point where you were begging for well-wishes from people you didn't particularly care about. And so you took notes, put your hand up for the participation grade and dreamed of your own cake and candles.

By the end of the day you were exhausted. The classes were long anyway, but carrying around your own personal grey cloud was taking a toll on your body and mind. It was at the car park when your phone dinged; James.

are you coming over tonight?

please

You smiled a little despite your sour mood. Even if James didn't seem like he was fully aware of your outlook on birthdays, being with him always made you feel better.

It'd already been dark for an hour or so by the time you reached the flat he shared with the boys, the winter weather making the sun disappear at four o'clock. You knocked on his door softly, unable to pluck up the strength to even make your presence easily known. James must've been waiting for you though, since you heard the heavy pad of his feet almost instantaneously.

The sight of him nearly took your breath away, though nothing was out of the ordinary. He was still the same old James, his glasses slightly askew on his nose, but he was looking at you with such softness that you felt the tears spike behind your eyes. You tried to push them down.

"I thought we'd have a bit of an early dinner. I know you won't have eaten at uni." He took your bag, setting it by the entry table softly. You managed to nod, hopefully not giving away all your awful feelings. You tried not to be cut up that he hadn't wished you a happy birthday yet.

All of your melancholy had been for nothing, you realised, when James led you to the dining table. He'd gone the full mile, with a cheesy red tablecloth and single candle as the centrepiece.

"Happy birthday, my love," He whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. You couldn't help it, the tears rolling down your cheeks before you even realised. Once they started you had no chance, sobs wracking through your body as James stood beside you, bewildered.

"Is this not okay? Do you not like it?" He fretted as you cried, and you rushed to reassure him.

"I love it, Jamie, promise. It's just," You managed a half laugh through your bout of tears, "I thought no one cared. I can't believe you've done this for me." James' brow furrowed deeper than you'd ever seen it before as he pulled you into a tight hug.

"I would do anything for you, love. I mean it."

Once your tears had subsided you had a lovely dinner, James making you double over with laughter as all thoughts of your previous shit day dissolved under the weight of the homemade pasta sitting in your stomach.

Just before the night died down, James presented you with a small box, wrapped in the most beautiful silky ribbon. You glanced up at him curiously, untying it slowly. Inside was the most beautiful bracelet you'd ever seen. Connected with a heart-shaped clasp and decorated with a single charm, a love letter. You were embarrassed by the tears working their way back up to your lash line, but James looked delighted by the reaction, he lived to make you happy.

"Thank you," You whispered, "I love you."

James didn't have to say it back for you to know, but he did anyway because it made him happy.

Maybe your birthday wasn't the flashy event you might've wanted, however deep down, but you were strangely okay with it. Despite the fact that no one showed up to your door with a hand-baked cake or essay-length card, you had James, and James would've pulled the stars down from the sky if he thought it would boost your mood. That was enough.

[enhanextdoor]

𓂃۶ৎ 𝐓𝐈𝐋 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐃𝐎 𝐔𝐒 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓, 𝐈 𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐒? ━━━ 𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗂𝖺𝗀𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗏𝖾𝗇𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾.

박종성 (p.js). ─────⠀ㅤ 1,895 (in total) ―୨୧⋆ ˚ 𝗳!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝗑 𝗻𝗼𝗻𝗶𝗱𝗼𝗹!𝗷𝗮𝘆 𓈒 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬. ⠀

부인 성명 (disclaimer) : read at your own risk. mentions of illness (your mother is sick). there is going to be fluff and angst themes. NOT PROOFREAD

taglist: @choisanswife. @leehsngs.

to be honest you didn’t want to get married, on top of that you had to marry park jongseong. it was ideal obviously since neither of you were in love with each other, but your mother was dying and wanted to see her daughter getting married. he had his reasons for the wedding except he wouldn’t tell you what they were. you didn’t even care enough to know. you just had to be married to him for two years then you could file for that divorce like he had promised. you were two months into this sham of a marriage and your family was coming to visit in one week. since the wedding you two had barely spent any time in the same room. you hardly acted married, but when your mom called jay made sure he was always chiming in and he kept up with your life so his responses seemed fitting. 

tonight you decided you would make dinner for the both of you since you needed to go through what talking points you would be having with your parents. you were in the kitchen when jay stepped through the doorway. he had been hanging out with the guys again which was typical especially since it was the weekend. “how are they?” you questioned as you tried to focus on the cook book in front of you. “uh.. good. jake says hi and ni-ki says you haven’t played him back in darts?” he arched an eyebrow slightly as he walked further into the kitchen. “what are you doing?” it almost sounded like he was trying not to laugh and that pissed you off. “cooking, what does it look like?” you retorted and pulled your hair out of the way. “okay, yeah. i’ll get the take out menus.” he said as he walked towards the assigned junk drawer where you kept menus to your favorite local places. “excuse me? no. this is going to be the best damn meal you’ve had all year park jongseong.” you point to the door of the kitchen. “now get out of my kitchen.” he laughed on his way out of the kitchen with his hands partially up. “okay, okay, but if i get food poisoning.” 

despite the comments from jay you made the meal from the cookbook and it tasted so damn good. you had to get a little taste of course before serving it in case it was bad. you were proud of this meal, really proud actually. you walked the two plates to the table in the dining room, setting the plates down in your respective spots. “okay y/n, let’s show him.” you muttered to yourself before walking up the stairs to find jay plucking away at his guitar. you stopped to admire him for a moment since he hadn’t noticed you just yet. he really was talented even if you didn’t want to fully admit it. “hey.. dinner is ready.” you stated after clearing your throat to get his attention. he looked over with an amused smile, “are we sure it’s edible?” he joked a little and you narrowed your gaze. “swear to god i’m going to feed you dog food next time.” you grumbled before walking right back down the stairs. jay put his guitar up and followed behind you. 

you both sat in silence as he went to take the first bite and you watched in anticipation, wondering what he was going to say. he was chewing and he even closed his eyes while doing so. you had no clue if that meant he liked it or was trying to hide the grimace, you thought it tasted good. “this is…” he kept you hanging for a moment. “out with it park!” you said and he held his finger up to indicate he wasn’t ready to give his answer. “...really good.” he opened his eyes to look at you which only caused your own eyes to roll. “you are are such a dick.” he couldn’t help but laugh at your comment and you both kept on eating in silence just enjoying the cooking. 

“i guess we should talk about your family coming. how is your mom doing?” he questioned which filled the air with a little bit of an eerie feeling. you didn’t like talking about everything going on with her illness, but jay always made sure to check in. “the doctors say maybe another year, but even they aren’t sure.” a frown crossed your lips and you averted your gaze to the table. “you know if you ever need to talk about that, i’m right here.” his voice seemed to be laced with a empathic tone that made your heart feel so warm. “i know, thank you.” you felt bad enough considering that you convinced him to marry you using your mom’s condition. 

the next week came and your family was staying with the both of you so that whole sleeping in different rooms thing would have to wait until they were gone again. jay took some days off work the same way you did to spend time with your parents. your father and jay were out in the backyard and you were in the living room with your mother. you had brought her some extra pillows to help her get comfortable and sat down across from her. “y/n, i really love seeing you with jay. seeing the way he looks at you. i know you’ll be taken care of when i’m gone.” she bore a little bit of a sad smile and you returned it. if only she knew that this marriage wasn’t what she thought it was. jay didn’t love you and you didn’t love him, did you? no. you didn’t, at least that is what you had to tell yourself. 

after some time jay and your father came back into the house laughing about something and you glanced over, your own face reflecting the smile on his. he was always so sweet with you and your family. “jay, come sit with me for a moment.” your mother called out patting the spot next to her and he sauntered over, sitting beside her and taking her hand when she held it out for him. “i love how happy you make my daughter.” she commented and he gave her hand a little reassuring squeeze. “i love how happy she makes me.” he teased back and your mother looked so overjoyed. “ah well i’m glad to hear that, but you know i’m on a bit of a time crunch what are our thoughts on grandkids?” she looked so sly while saying that. “mom!” you called out and you felt your cheeks flushing with embarrassment. he busted out with a loud laugh and everyone else followed suit. “we haven’t really talked about that yet but i promise we will keep it in mind.” he finally answered after the laughter calmed down. 

that night after dinner your parents went to settle down in the guest room leaving you and jay to clean the kitchen. you were washing the dishes up and he was cleaning off the table when you finally decided to speak up. “jay.. i don’t know how i’ll ever make all of this up to you.” your words lingered followed by a minute of silence. for a second you weren’t sure if he even heard you, but he approached the sink and his eyes felt like they were burning into your skin so you turned to meet his gaze. “y/n, you know i never told you why i got into the marriage. i didn’t have to do it, but i said i had my reasons remember?” he was stood a little closer than you had expected him to be. “yeah i remember, never understood why you couldn’t just tell me.” you scoffed a little and set the sponge you were using down. “i married you because i had feelings for you. i knew you didn’t feel the same, but i figured that if we lived together and spent more time together maybe just maybe you would end up feeling the same way.” he confessed as his one hand rested on the counter top next to you. your eyes widened and you weren’t expecting a love confession. you weren’t even sure how you felt to be completely honest. 

“i um.. well i’m not really sure how to respond to that. you married me because you have feelings for me?” you sounded confused and honestly that is the reason people are suppose to get married, love. he told you what any girl would be dying to hear that he is genuinely in love with you and your heart was racing you knew that much yet you couldn’t say the words back. “i don’t understand.” you said quieter than you spoke before. “it’s okay, i don’t expect you to say it back or even feel the same. if we get to the two year mark and you still want the divorce then we get the divorce but if we get there and you think you love me too then why not try this for real? we are only two months in so that gives you twenty-two months to figure out what you are feeling.” he smiled and placed a small kiss on your cheek. “i’m going to head to bed, you take all the time you need.” he put his hand on your arm for just a second, admiring every feature of you before dropping his hand and walking himself up to the master bedroom. 

you stood there trying to process everything, every moment from the time you both got engaged to now. you were fake engaged for six months before this little marriage came along so it wasn’t like you didn’t know jay. you became closer friends in the time that you were living together and maybe you did catch yourself watching him a little longer, smiling at him, enjoying his presence instead of your alone time. were you in love with park jongseong? was this marriage that started as a lie going to turn into a real marriage? there were so many questions running through your mind. every sweet moment that you shared jay replayed in your mind, the times he held you through your tears after getting results from your moms tests, and even the little teasing arguments the two of you had. you were hopelessly in love with jay. shit, you are in love with him. 

you made your way upstairs and into the room that tonight you would be sharing with jay. he had already gotten himself ready for bed and his attention turned to you when you walked into the room. “jay, i think i love you too.” you were just standing in the doorway and he tilted his head just a little. “you think? i’ll take it.” he broke into a smile and you just walked over to him. “yeah i think, i want to keep trying this and like trying to be in a relationship for real.” he nodded as his hand moved to rest on your hip and you were closer than before. “i like the sound of that.” you two leaned in to kiss, but right as your lips were going to connect you heard your mothers voice. “what do you mean for real?”

c. enhanextdoor ; do not copy, repost, or translate my works.

a/n: i hope you all enjoy this fic and sorry it ended on a lil cliffhanger mwhehehe

[kayakima]

Hello I am back with more headcanons

How the 104th Cadet corps smokes 🍃 and what they’re like when they’re high

Plus bonus Porco and Pieck

Eren: Has every form of Rick and Morty paraphernalia in existence. Rolling trays, Tshirts, ash trays, you name it. Unironically says that people need a higher IQ to be able to “fully grasp” the message of the show. Used to smoke indoors but Mikasa pushed him to take it outside or at least open a window. Goes fully nonverbal (for once) but also can’t keep his hands to himself if he’s alone with Mikasa.

Mikasa: Doesn’t smoke a ton but she still somehow has an incredibly high tolerance. Has a pen that she named “Penjamin” and she discreetly hits it at the aquarium/museum. When she’s at home with Eren it takes one hit before their clothes are on the floor.

Armin: Tried smoking but it always just ends up giving him a headache for some reason. Edibles are a bit better but he never seems to really “feel it”, so he prefers to just not partake because he doesn’t want to waste money. Prefers CBD gummies and has a CBD pen on him so he doesn’t feel left out during sessions. A fiend for cigs though.

Ymir: WAKE. AND. BAKE. She can out smoke ANYONE, even Connie. Zeros her bong in one hit and does NOT clean it. Has a whole dab rig and puts grape-sized globs in it just for herself. Unironically watches Jackass and Filthy Frank videos when Historia isn’t around.

Historia: Smoked once and had a panic attack. Does not smoke or partake at all anymore and instead she drinks or hits her crusty ass juul from 2018 that’s covered with faded stickers, and she uses bootleg strawberry juul pods so she feels like she’s doing something. Babysits Ymir when she goes nonverbal and they also can’t keep their hands off each other. She’s the one to clean Ymir’s bong and yells at her when she leaves it on the coffeetable.

Reiner: Can rip a bong like nobody’s business but is classy enough to keep it in a cupboard when he isn’t using it. All his bags and pockets are littered with various brands of mint-flavored dispos because he vapes in public. Gets really calm and quiet and one time when he was with Jean the two of them got way too high together and started making out (they don’t talk about it and nobody else will ever know)

Bertoldt: Surprisingly chatty when smoking. Doesn’t do anything fancy and just has a glass pipe. Taught Reiner what a sploof was so he wouldn’t get caught by his mom. Has a decent tolerance but can sometimes overdo it because he underestimates edibles. “Man this edible ain’t shit” *Ten minutes later*: “dude do you ever think about how our fingers are just bony tentacles?”

Annie: Almost exclusively bums off of other people. Offers a drag of her cig in return. Also gets chatty but not nearly as much as Bert. She’s the one to pick out the movie and she’s the last one to fall asleep. Always jumps for nature documentaries or nostalgic things like Wallace and Gromit.

Marco: Does NOT smoke and sees weed as a gateway drug. Cried when he found out Jean keeps edibles on him and said he didn’t want him to become an “addict” until Jean invited him to babysit a JSC smoke session. Now he dislikes it but tolerates it for Jean.

Sasha: Munchies go with Sasha like milk goes with cookies. Full Mukbang channel with 2 million subscribers. The big draw to the channel is SJC antics and when Niccolo decides to make gourmet food for her to absolutely destroy when high. Eats all the edibles Pieck gives her in like 3 days.

Jean: Has those 5mg Caminos on lockdown in his back pocket to the point where they’ve worn a circular imprint in the denim and he has to clarify that, no, it is neither a tin of dip, nor is it Zyn packets. He keeps the Caminos on hand because they make him more social and relaxed in public without getting too zooted. At home he has a pen but rarely uses it. Prefers 20mg brownies Pieck makes him. Does not smoke with Reiner anymore. (He really enjoyed himself and is scared of the implications)

Connie: spent $600 on a gravity bong because he saw Seth Rogen talk about it. Has a YouTube channel under the name Con-man420 and the videos have titles like “REVIEWING SUPER LEMON HAZExGRANDADDY PURP HYBRID IN 4K HD”. Impossible to tell if he’s high or sober because you’re not ever entirely sure you’ve SEEN him fully sober.

Pieck: Makes edibles. Knows how to make canna-butter and runs a whole under-the-table edible business. Once it was legalized in her state she had a panic attack. When she’s high it’s like her brain completely shuts off and she has to do the little bicep hug with Jean or Porco if they’re out in public so she doesn’t get left behind. Falls asleep every time. Very cuddly and gets handsy depending on who she’s with.

Porco: Smokes out of a pipe shaped like an old-fashioned tobacco pipe. Pieck got it for him as a joke but he loves it. Can do smoke tricks with his pen. Plays Tame Impala and Glass Animals on vinyl and melts into the couch like that one DARE ad

[snail-day]

hello, I'm currently going insane over the last part of "can my friend join". And i read your replies to asks related to that. And I'm going to ask something so crazy but I think it'd be soooo interesting, and something to ponder abt (for me at least)

Tw. Narcotics?

Say the reader gets their hands on edibles or something. Maybe weed to smoke or as brownies (because we know Suguru smokes/at least carries lighters. Maybe for this hypothetical scenario, let's assume he has it and that's how she got it). One of the effects can be that it makes you laugh uncontrollably about things that aren't THAT funny. And in general puts one in better mood.

Let's say satosugu see reader laughing her heart out at something random n silly and find out it's because she accidentally somehow consumed an edible.

(For the sake of this scenario, again, let's assume that the depression meds or some medical complications after so many pregnancies lead to reader being rendered infertile. So no question about any baby being harmed. )

In that case... how do they feel? Do they want her bubbly-ness back? Or are they now indifferent? Or do they hate her smiles and the sound of her laughter?

Will Suguru try to forcefully take away the edibles, (after a few times) if satoru is against the idea, coz satoru likes how you seem to have a bit of personality outside of being a cardboard cutout of the person you used to be? Will SATORU too put his foot down on letting you choose if or not you want to have access to these?

I am sorry in case i inadvertently offended you with this ask. I genuinely found it hilarious, imagining their confusion at first. It would be interesting to read about a scene where satoru and Suguru maybe cannot come to an agreement about a situation. And both are stubborn/ want control.

I understand if you won't want to answer this one, and i apologise in case you don't like stuff like this. I genuinely do not mean to make you uncomfortable.

Thank you for reading!

Anon, baby, it takes a whole lot to offend me. You're so freaking sweet, mwah.

TW: Narcotics, unedited, implied dubcon/noncon

I think I hinted at this in one of the previous asks, but yes, they definitely use narcotics. It’s kind of like a date night situation, because normally, you’re so numb. But when you’re high on that sweet little pill they give you? Oh my, you’re back to being the sweetest little thing.

Sure, you might be a little spaced out, and sure, you might not fully understand what’s going on. But Satoru loves the giggly mess you become. You let him hold you, nuzzle into you, and for once, you don’t resist. The sex is incredible for them because you actually seem like you’re enjoying it. You’re softer, more pliable, and sometimes, you even blurt out that you love them during it.

Those moments—hearing you say “I love you”—fuel both Satoru and Suguru’s belief that there’s still an ounce of the old you left inside. As much as they’d want to keep you drugged and loveable forever, Suguru worries about the long-term effects on your brain. So, he insists on keeping it as a weekly date night ritual.

On those nights, they send the kids out of the estate and have an absolute field day with you, indulging in every ounce of affection and compliance you offer under the influence of their little solution.

[allzelemonz]

Family Dinner: Bruce Wayne X Gender Neutral Reader

Pronouns: None Mentioned Physical Sex: None mentioned Rating: E/Smut Warnings: Fluff, hints of Bruce’s unhealthy habits, found family, Thanksgiving, Bat-pets included Summary: Thanksgiving day at Wayne manor.

Everything on Thanksgiving is planned to the last detail. Firstly, everyone in the Wayne family has patrol duty, team gatherings to go to, and turkey induced comas to enjoy. Secondly, Alfred would never let something so important not be absolutely perfect. Despite not being from the Americas himself, he fully embraced the holiday celebrating its origins when he began working for Thomas and Martha years ago. Bruce has told you all of the stories of perfect Thanksgivings where Alfred got his busy parents to sit and relax, a tradition that now carries on to him and his own children.

When you woke up to find Bruce still in bed, a very rare treat, you relished in it. Being able to hold him without interruption is one of the best feelings in the world. He cuddles into your arms naturally, almost like a baby bat in the cold. It’s only when you brush a hand through his hair that his eyes open, alert as ever.

“Morning, B.” You mutter softly as his sky matched eyes look up at you.

He relaxes, the muscles that tensed upon awakening going right back to their sleepy state. “Morning.”

“You slept in.”

He nods, kissing your cheek before wrapping his arms around you. “Alfred gets moody if I wake up early on holidays.”

“Didn’t stop you on Halloween.”

“That’s different.” He grumbles. “Scarecrow couldn’t wait.”

“Maybe Calendar Man will make an appearance this time.”

He sighs, shaking his head. “Don’t jinx me.” Slowly, he sits up and rubs his eyes. “With my luck it’ll be Man-bat.”

“I thought Kirk was happy with his new enclosure at Arkham.” You say, sitting up and stretching lightly.

“He is.” Bruce picks up his robe and ties it on. “But there’s always the chance he could be corrupted. Bribed with a cure… or peaches…”

“Peaches?”

He nods. “Lee says they taste like the edible form of his serum, apparently.”

“I shouldn’t be surprised by any of this stuff anymore, and yet…”

Bruce smiles softly, kissing your cheek. “I’ll see you downstairs. Remember to stay out of Alfred’s warpath.”

“No kitchen, I know.”

With one more kiss, Bruce walks out of the bedroom, turning down the hall towards the stairs. You gather your clothes for the holiday occasion and follow. As you descend the stairs, the smells of Alfred’s cooking take over your nose. The turkey, clearly seasoned heavily, the gravy and stuffing mixing to make a deep and unique fall smell, and the hint of cooling pies. Upon stepping onto the final landing you catch the sound of faint whining, a few more steps and you can see Ace, Titus, and Alfred the Cat all sitting just outside the threshold to the kitchen. Their heads move in unison, probably following Alfred as he walks. You make your way through the house, passing the library where Jason is sprawled out on the couch with a book, the den where Damian is speaking quietly with Jerry the Turkey and soothing him about ‘one of his brothers being eaten and promising he won’t have any’, and finally the gym where Dick and Tim are playing a spirited game of monkey in the middle with Haley.

You can see Bruce through the far window, standing in the garden. You join him, leaning into his side as he wraps an arm around you. The land surrounding the manor is always nice in the fall, leaves turn as red as Kate’s hair and the sky stays the classic Gotham gray. In the distance is Bat-Cow grazing in a fresh trough you assume Damian filled this morning. Bats chatter in the distance, settling in for bed in the early morning. Everything is peaceful for once.

“Any alerts?” You ask, resting your head on Bruce.

He shakes his head. “It’s the girl’s shift, they haven’t reported anything.”

To be fair, Steph, Cass, Barbra, and Kate tend to run a tighter ship than Bruce when they’re all paired on the same patrol. The last villain to try something on their combined watch was Bane and he was very quickly humbled.

“You have a schedule for today, don’t you?”

Bruce nods. “I’m going to see Harvey this morning, hopefully he stays front long enough we can have a conversation.”

“Then JL?”

“Yeah, it’s a small thing at the Watchtower. Then we’ll go to Clark’s with Damian.”

You hum, thinking of Ma Kent’s cooking. “The farm?”

“You’ll get the Kent rolls, sweetheart, calm down.” He shakes his head. “After Clark’s we have to make an appearance at the charity dinner, Dick and Tim are with us for that. Then I have a patrol shift with them, dinner here with everyone after.”

“Busy day.”

“Always is.” He kisses your head. “I should get going. The guard letting me bring Harvey decent food said he wouldn’t wait to sneak me in forever.”

“Have fun, Bruce. Let yourself enjoy time with your friend for once.”

“You’re turning into Alfred.”

The rest of the day is long, filled with feasts everywhere you go. At the Kents’ home you have a good amount of food and spend some time playing with Krypto and Streaky. Kara and John Henry are happy to make conversation while Bruce catches up with Clark and Lois. It’s not long before you’re back in the car and dressing up for the charity dinner. Bruce puts on his Brucie face and the boys flash their charm for about an hour before you part for their patrol.

It’s not until sunset that Alfred finally rings the dinner bell back at the manor. The dining room fills to the brim with every last one of Bruce’s chosen family. Every bird, bat, Fox, and assorted crimefighters gather around the table while the many pets get their own places, including the larger ones like the visiting Goliath who peek in through open windows. Alfred takes the seat Bruce offers him at the head of the table only after everyone insists, he is the heart of the family after all.

Everyone digs in, conversations fly and minor arguments among siblings and cousins flit around. You catch Bruce smiling more than once throughout the dinner and it makes your heart a little warmer. One by one people finish eating and drift off to different parts in the house. Bruce takes your hand and leads you to the TV room for a movie. Before long, most of the Robins, all of the dogs, and a few of the girls have settled in as well.

The only interruption in the night is Alfred and his cat namesake starting the winter holiday decoration early.

[ckret2]

Why do you need to change your story based on The Book of Bill at all? It’s not like there was something wrong with your original vision. Why do you need to change it so it matches Alex’s version? Your story is already a fanfic, right? It can be its own thing. It’s not like it’s any less for being different.

Oh, lucky, somebody just asked me this in replies so I can just expand on the comment I gave them.

I don't match canon because I think I "should" or "need to"; I match canon because being rigorously canon compliant is something I enjoy and take pride in. There's an extra challenge in finding a way to tell the exact story I want to tell while keeping it TECHNICALLY 100% canon compliant and I like succeeding at that challenge.

(Plus, a lot of the stuff in The Book of Bill enhances the story I was already telling, so working it in just makes the story cooler. There's actually a whole lot more enhancing bits than clashing bits! I was fully prepared to leave TBOB out if it had clashed too much, though I wouldn't have liked it.)

I call the way I like writing fics "canon malicious compliance": I am, technically, 100% canon compliant, and nobody can say I'm not—but I'm gonna find a way to bend canon to my whims to make it tell the story I want to tell. If Bill says he helped fake the moon landing, I'm not gonna go "it's canon that Bill faked the moon landing, so I've gotta go with that"; I'm gonna go "it's canon that Bill said he faked the moon landing, so I can mention in my fic that that's a lie he commonly tells people," because it's still TECHNICALLY canon and I like that better.

I treat things as canon that the show's own creator has explicitly said are not canon—the Bill Reddit AMA, Little Gift Shop of Horrors, Time Pirates' Treasure, the fricking coloring book, cheap disney.com flash games—because treating these ridiculous things as canon adds to the fun of the challenge for me even when Alex et al don't treat them as canon themselves.

It's like those cooking challenges where you get five weird wildly-clashing ingredients and you're told to make a dish that uses all five of them. In the privacy of your own kitchen you could go, "well, it's too hard to figure out how to make something edible with grilled chicken and green gatorade, so I'm gonna leave the gatorade out," and I'm sure you'd make something delicious with the remaining four food items; but for me, it takes some of the satisfaction out of the food challenge if I don't figure out how to make the gatorade work.

Fics that tweak or change canon to suit the writer's tastes/vision are wonderfully creative pieces of art and I support any writer's right to do that; but it's not how I personally enjoy writing. I'm gonna make my fic 100% canon compliant because that's how I like writing them.

And in the end, it will still be my original vision. I just plan to whip, bend, and twist Alex's vision until it serves mine. It's no big deal if I've got to tweak mine a bit to help everything fit.

[mika-no-sekai-blog]

Word count: 1700+

Warnings: some swearing, but otherwise a dripping sugar

Really, in this chapter nothing happens, yet I got overheated just writing it and had to refill sugar bc this sucked all the sweetness from my system. It's too much fluff for me🤯😵‍💫

Part XXIV | Part XXVI

After both of you calmed down, Tamlin insisted on carrying you back, claiming that it was too dark and you could get hurt. You were in awe of his strength. It was quite a long walk yet he wasn't panting, not even broke in sweat. It seemed as if he was carrying a feather, easily jumping over fallen trees and shallow holes you didn't see. He seemed to be unmoved by what just happened between you.

However, you were a different case. Only mere minutes passed since you basically told him you loved him, despite the mess in your head and heart, not fully comprehending the weight of such words and what it would do to you. Every nerve in your body was tense, sensation of his body touching yours leaving you breathless. Your heartbeats were too loud even to your own ears, your palms were sweating. You clenched them into fists where they were resting on Tamlin's shoulders, praying you wouldn't sweat through his shirt. You were so nervous that you couldn't enjoy this moment at all and when he finally put you down at the threshold of your cottage, you were happy it was over.

Too embarrassed to look him in eye, you swiftly walked in, washed your hands and once again picked up the knife to finish the cutting. You were relieved to find out that he made sure to remove the pot from the fire and cleaned the blood before he ran after you.

Tamlin watched every your move so intensely that the tingling sensation on the back of your neck was almost unbearable. You took in a deep breath, readying to get back to work.

Tamlin's long fingers wrapped around your hand, gently taking the knife from you.

"Let me do this," he murmured near your ear. His rich deep voice combined with tickling of his breath on a sensitive skin of your neck made your heart miss several beats.

You blinked, trying to get over the fog of your hazy mind. Whatever you felt around him before, grew suddenly more stronger. It wasn't the first time you were in love, but this was so different from what you'd experienced in the past. Could it be because he accepted your feelings but didn't share them? He said he needed you, yet needing someone wasn't the same as loving them. And he didn't say he loved you.

You just speechlessly nodded, gazing up at him. He chuckled. Another wave of heat climbed up your neck, settling down on your cheeks. It was a long time since you heard him laughed like this. It was hard to believe that just mere minutes ago he was broken and full of self loathing. This situation, it was so..confusing.

High Lord watched you with eyes full of mischief, corners of his mouth twitched in amusement.

You quickly stepped aside and putting the pot back on fire you pretended to be too engaged in mixing and adding seasoning.

"That colour suits you," Tamlin cooed while cutting carrots. You even forgot how to stir the contents of the pot.

"Carefully. Don't burn our dinner," he teased you.

This was the Tamlin who danced with you on Solstice, who liked to tease you and laughed happily and often. Although his smile still carried a hint of shadows and caution was present in his bright gaze, he seemed to be really back. On one side you were happy for that, but on the other hand, it was too nerve-wrenching.

You didn't know how you managed to finish cooking the soup. Not remembering what you actually put in you sceptically took a spoon to taste it, expecting the worst. You were pleasantly surprised that despite your absent-mindedness it was edible even delicious.

"May I taste it too?" Tamlin suddenly stood next to you with bowls.

"Sure," you stuttered, offering him the spoon, but he didn't take it. He just stood there waiting with half-open mouth.

Shakily exhaling you filled the spoon again, cooled the hot liquid and offered it to him. Without breaking the gaze he leaned in. Your sight fell to his perfectly shaped lips, the way they closed around and smoothly slid down the spoon leaving it clean.

"Delicious," he licked a droplet from his bottom lip.

"Yeah," you sighed still gazing at his mouth. He grinned. Realizing how it sounded, you blushed fiercely.

"Would you set the table? I'll bring bowls," he purred playfully.

Welcoming the offered way out, you took spoons and glasses and put the distance between your bodies. Room suddenly felt too hot, so you opened window and looked out.

Cool night breeze caressed your burning face and you closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling. What was wrong with you? Why your heart couldn't calm down? It was just Tamlin, the very same person you had spent months with before your life turned upside down. The very same person you held when he felt bad and needed help. The same male who held you at night after nightmares haunted you, who smiled at you, caressed you, hugged, danced with you... You hid face in your palms, scolding your mind.

"Everything alright there?" Tamlin asked softly, watching you.

"Yes, I just need fresh air," you called back over your shoulder.

For the rest of the evening he didn't tease you anymore. He helped you clean up after the dinner and then you two spent some time sitting in your separate armchairs, sipping the tea and reading. It was so relaxing moment that you wondered whether you were only imagining all the things before.

However when the time to go to bed came, Tamlin didn't bid you goodnight. He stood up and trailed after you to the stairs. You were too tired and noticed it only once you were halfway up the stairs. You spun to face him and found him hesitating with hand on railing and one foot on the step.

"What's wrong?" you asked him, wondering why he didn't go to his bed as usual.

His eyes looked you up and down and then wandered behind you to the door of your bedroom.

"I-.." he bit on his lower lip. Your brows rose, you blinked waiting. "I wonder if I could sleep with you tonight."

"Sleep with me?" you repeated, your mind already giving you all kinds of ideas, one more embarrassing than the other. You felt warmth pooling between your legs and you shifted uncomfortably.

Tamlin probably felt the change in your scent. His eyes widened and he..blushed. It was very adorable sight. It was just a slight pink tint of his cheeks, but it caused your body heat rose even more. You again shifted and looked down suddenly finding your feet to be very interesting.

"I-.. I didn't want to imply anything inappropriate," he stuttered, ashamed. His scent grew stronger now.

"I meant to sleep together like sleep together. Fuck," he swore under his breath, stumbling over the words. He ran fingers through his long golden strands in frustration and inhaled deeply.

"What I meant is," he started slowly, taking time with his next words, "to sleep next to each other, with space in between us if it makes you more comfortable."

"Or as until now," he added in a smaller voice.

Tight embrace, enveloped in his pleasant scent, his hands on you, warmth of his body seeping into yours. Yes, that's what you wanted. You didn't even need to think about that.

Your mind brought out the imagine of his lips. How would they taste like? What would they feel like? You shook your head, convincing yourself that that wasn't what you really wanted.

"Fine," you whispered to the empty space between you and ran up the rest of the steps. "But give me a moment."

You'd never been this nervous. After changing into the nightgown which was already quite challenging because your hands wouldn't stop shaking, you brushed your hair and then again and again.

You were going to just sleep, nothing else would happen. You had to repeat this words in your mind at least thousands time, but it didn't work. With wildly beating heart you climbed to the bed, covered yourself with blanket and called to the too silent house.

The door opened and closed, mattress dipped under his weight. Slowly he slid under the blanket next to you. Your bed was too narrow for two people, so whether you wanted or no, your bodies were touching. Tamlin was lying on his side facing you, you were facing the window, your back to him.

Even without seeing him, you were aware of his every breath, his broad chest brushing your back. You felt his eyes on you, heard his every swallow and his heart racing just as fast as yours.

You were certain you wouldn't be able to fall asleep like this and wondered how you could sleep so soundly every previous night.

Sheets rustled when he moved, lightly touching your shoulder.

"May I?" His deep but soft voice vibrated through your body, your eyes closed with delight on its own accord.

You just nodded. He so slowly wrapped his arm around your middle, pulling you closer to his front. You had to bite down on your lip to stop the moan that threatened to escape you.

His other arm slid under your head, replacing the pillow.

"This way it should be more comfortable." His breath fanned over your hair to your face. It smelled of tea you drank before going to bed.

He started humming a soothing melody, his hand lightly running up and down your stomach in lazy small circles. It worked wonders and you finally relaxed.

"What you said back in the forest, did you really mean it?" he asked when your eyelids became heavier, sleep slowly overcoming you.

"Yes, each word," you mumbled sleepily.

You could feel his face in the crook of your neck, gently rubbing against your skin. You chuckled when his breath tickled you.

"Thank you," he whispered to your hair, now both arms embracing you firmly. "I.. like you, too."

Those were the last words you heard before drifting into a dreamless sleep, smiling happily. Tamlin followed you soon after.

Taglist:

@impossibelle @sevikas-whore @b0xerdancer @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @tele86 @mybestfriendmademe @nocasdatsgay @yunloyal @nebarious @isabiss @st0rmyt @lilah-asteria @ubigaia @paleidiot @acourtofimagines @harahettania @talesofadragon @ceoofyearning

[xxsugarbones]

-as a kite 🪁

-just 🍃smoking🍃 with your fave character

cw- implied afab!reader but no terms used, heavily implied plus size reader, dr*g usage (weed), brief mention of oral (reader rec.), brief mention of p in v, shotgunning at the end

wc - 1.1k

|| an - hello!! this is my first post so pls be nice because i am terrified of posting this lmfao. very clearly inspired by the fact that i am currently high as a kite and these are just my cheeky little delulu ramblings 😭 This is obviously very self indulgent because all i can every think about doing while high is these kinds of scenarios 😮‍💨

pls enjoy!!

Lately I’ve been thinking about smoking with my faves- or even just getting high with them in general. Whether it be edibles, smoking joints, or smoking cones.

But to be very specific, instead of having edibles or smoking a joint, you two are sharing a bong. Short, but slender, the perfect little “pocket rocket” as you liked to call it. Perfect for travelling, and for moments like these, so he doesn’t burn himself too easily.

He’s got you straddling his lap, one of your hands holding the bong up to your lips and the other resting just atop his wrist, holding him still. One of his own hands held the lighter to the cone piece, allowing you to take the deep inhale, while the other made sure to keep your loose hair pushed back with two fingers, almost cupping your face in the process. He could feel the heat from the lighter on the thin skin of his wrist, but he paid no mind to it, instead watching the way the thick white smoke filled the chamber. You almost finished the entirety of the pull but had to pull back just towards the end, eyes closed and head quickly throwing back. Thick, rolling ‘o’ shaped puffs of smoke were blown from your mouth, and he watched them rise up, rolling for a good few seconds before they slowly dispersed.

“Ooh, nice ones, baby. Think they’re the best ones you’ve done so far.” He praised, moving the hand from your hair down your neck, running it gently along your torso and hip, until letting it come to rest on your thigh to keep you steady. Which turned out to be a good move, because a few seconds later you moved the hand from his wrist, tucking your mouth into your elbow and coughing. He chuckled, shaking his head and taking the bong from you, setting it to the side and raising his hand to carefully help rub over your chest to try and soothe the burning feeling with his warm palm. The coughing fit lasts for a few seconds, before you can finally relax, letting out a shaky sigh. You opened your eyes, little tears from how rough the fit was wetting the corner of your bloodshot eyes, and a sheepish little smile pulling your lips upwards. He laughed and just how high you actually looked.

“Oh honey.” He cooed, reaching for the little bottle of water he’d kept by his side just in case. He slipped it into your hands, and you thanked him sweetly, unscrewing the cap and taking a sip. He watched your throat bob ever so slightly as you swallowed the water, and he hummed out a lazy “no worries” in response. He watched you fully relax again, screwing the cap back on and setting it back down and your sides.

“Y’feelin’ better now?” He cooed, his hand sliding down the centre of your chest, making your cheeks flush at the intimate touch, and smoothing it down your stomach, your muscles twitching a little at the almost ghostly touches. You weren’t ticklish, but that particular spot, just above your pubic bone, the soft pudge of your stomach was sensitive to his touch. He enjoyed the feeling of the flesh subtly twitch under the palm of his hand, and it always made your breath shudder at the same time.

“Y-Yeah. I’m good.” You breathed, just watching his eyes take in your slightly dopey expression. He chuckled, carefully grabbing your jaw and pulling your face forward towards his own. You angled yourself down so he could connect your lips in a sweet kiss. You cooed against his lips, your hands gently cupping the sides of his neck to keep him close to you. A few soft kisses ended up turning into a slow make out session, your arms thrown around his neck, a hand carefully tangled into the roots of his hair at the back of his neck, nails scratching nicely along his scalp, while his hands rest on your ass, squeezing and very occasionally smacking the thinly covered flesh over your little pyjama shorts. His tongue lapped slowly at yours before carefully pulling it into his own mouth, giving it a little suckle that made you whimper against his lips. He returned it with a chuckle, letting your tongue go after one last gentle lick of his own against the tip, and you pulled back for air, panting. He reached up, using the palm of his hand to carefully swipe away some combined spit that had dribbled from the corner of your mouth. He looked cocky- he always looked cocky when you were like this, flustered and needy, just for him. It meant he could play with you just how he liked, and hell, you were not complaining. Sometimes he would lay you on your back, head between your thighs and licking and sucking you like you were the sweetest treat on earth, your sensitive body writhing under his ministrations while he had his fill. Or he’d have you on your hands and knees, face pushed into the pillows and your back arched, kneeling behind you and fucking you absolutely dumb until you had forgotten your own name, and could only recite his like a mantra. And you loved every single second of it.

But as you whined when he didn’t move for a moment, he simply reached over for the bong, plucking it back up once again and carefully tucking it into your hand again, and snatching up the lighter off the couch cushion. He smirked at your slightly surprised expression.

“Aren’t you gonna have any, baby?” You questioned softly. He hushed you, watching you slot your lips into the glass, and sparked the lighter up again, watching you once again inhale, the smoke rising quickly into your mouth, and into your lungs.

“‘s fine, I’ll have some after you finish yours, pretty. Just thought you could use a top-up.” He taunted, eyes half lidded and seductive. You pulled the remainder of the cone with relative ease, pulling back from the bong and once again leaning down, holding the smoke in your mouth, until you were close enough to softly blow it onto his face. He wanted to tease, so could you. He let out a sound between a sneer and a purr, quickly nearing his lips to yours as he inhaled the smoke you blew into his face.

“Little minx.” He growled, smacking your ass again, making you jump, then giggle, blowing him a kiss.

Yeah. 😩

[ghulehunknown]

Papa Headcanons 🫂🩸

Day 14 of KINKTOBER is here! 🎃

**WARNING - some NSFW included**

Also available on AO3!

My headcanons of the Papas taking care of you while on your period

Primo

Does not fully understand how painful it is for you, but shows empathy all the same, knowing he’d never want to experience it himself

Holds you in his arms, rubs your shoulders and back, and kisses your forehead

Brings you a heating pad and hot chocolate or tea, or anything in particular you’re craving

He is absolutely fine not having sex or receiving BJs from you and does not bring it up unless you seem particularly keen

Gives you his own edibles made from Ministry-grown marijuana

Stays up to watch a movie with you, holding your hand while you’re curled up in pain but quickly falls asleep next to you

Secondo

Has a stockpile of necessary items for all his ghulehs - pads, tampons, pain meds, heating pads, snacks, etc.

Is usually known throughout the Ministry to have extra tampons under his bathroom sink in case you run out or forgot to put one in your purse

Already has towels down on the mattress and is prepared for sex to get messy

Is fine with getting blood on his dick but prefers to shower right after

He’s also perfectly fine to eat you out

Gives you lots of kisses whenever you want

Massages your back

Terzo

First, curses the universe for punishing you simply for having ovaries and a uterus. Second, praises Lucifer that you’re not pregnant.

Will gladly go to the store to get you anything you want or need, but definitely buys the wrong thing (“Babe, what size pussy do you own?” and proceeds to buy the wrong kind of pad anyway)

Drives you to your fave fast food place at 3AM because you woke up hungry and craving fries (because oddly so did he)

“Wahoo, blowjob week!”

Keeps saying “You know the cure for your pains, eh? *waggles eyebrows* The feeeemale orgasm!”

Fucking LOVES the sight of your blood on his dick

Excited to go down on you

Enjoys quiet movie nights when you’re not feeling up to sex

Cardinal Copia

Gulps and gets a little nervous

The sight of blood makes him woozy

He’ll still run to the store for you to get what you need, but gets lost and only brings back half of what you asked for (“They didn’t have it!” he’ll claim, sure that he checked everywhere)

Tells you a story about how one time in elementary school some kid kicked him in the balls so he understands your pain

Nervous about having sex and seeing blood but he would try anything for you if you really wanted to

He’d prefer to make you happy in other ways like giving you snacks and back rubs

Dracopia 🧛

“Your cunt looks especially delicious, tesoro.”

Celebrates your body’s natural cycles and praises Lucifer

He already knows your menstrual cycle and knew you were about to start it before you did

Has pain meds blended up in a smoothie for you

Tells you he didn’t buy tampons at the store because you don’t need them *wink*

Practically cums when he smells fresh blood on you

“You are so wet~” “Copia, it’s blood.” “Ehh, yes I know”

Eats you out like a champ

Popia

He drops whatever he’s doing and goes to the store immediately to bring you snacks and tampons

Gets you whatever snacks you desire and eats half of them

Texts you every step of the way in the store (“Okay I walked inside…okay I turned to the right…10 steps down the…3rd aisle? Okie dokie!”)

Content to just cuddle and watch movies with you

Also content to get blowies but particularly curious about going down on you and how different it might be than usual

Nihil

Still thinks you can’t get pregnant on your period

Thinks you bleed out of your pee hole. Actually, he thinks your vagina is also your pee hole. Actually he doesn’t know. There are 3 holes?!

Grumbles, not understanding your pain, but you return home later and a single rose and some pain meds lay on the nightstand with a Hallmark greeting card that says “get well soon” - he’s too out of his comfort zone to buy pads or tampons

Won’t touch your vagina unless you’ve just showered, but will gladly hint at getting a blowjob

When/if you do have sex he wears it like a badge of honor as if he’s just gone to war and braved some unspeakable fate, almost expecting to get praised for doing so

[bardic-tales]

Any Easter adjacent headcanons for Bianca and Sephiroth? Happy Holiday!

Hello, Nonny. Belated Happy Holiday to you too. I hope you had a wonderful day yesterday and will have an awesome day today.

So, for this, I decided to answer for my Fantasy Worlds Collide but in the future. These are a more relaxed Sephiroth and Bianca who adore their children, but also are still villains. There are six in total.

Bianca and Sephiroth host a small, family-oriented Easter egg hunt for their children, Aurora and Lucien, in a spacious area of their home or outside in their secluded garden. The eggs are enchanted with little surprises: magic-infused trinkets or sweets made by Bianca. The kids still aren’t able to fly yet, as their wings do not support their weight yet, so Bianca and Sephiroth occasionally help by gently nudging them from the ground if they spot an egg hidden up high. The hunt is playful, with Sephiroth secretly showing off his magic to make the kids laugh by making some of the eggs float just out of reach, while Bianca watches, proud and amused by the three's excitement.

Bianca enjoys an activity that is much more grounded in "normal" family life than her usual demeanor. She likes to dye eggs with her children. She carefully arranges the dyes, and while she can manipulate reality, she keeps the colors simple and earthy. Lucien prefers creating intricate designs, often using magic to “etch” his drawings on the eggs’ surfaces. Aurora, on the other hand, loves mixing colors together and sometimes creates a chaotic, but beautiful blend of colors. Bianca and Sephiroth might even join in, with Bianca using a bit of her magic to paint delicate, glowing designs, while Sephiroth's eggs are almost always meticulously pristine. No surprise there!

Bianca, who loves baking, takes charge of breakfast. She makes fluffy pancakes shaped like bunnies with chocolate chips for eyes. Lucien and Aurora help set the table, occasionally sneaking bits of pancake batter when Bianca’s not looking. The morning is warm and cozy, full of laughter as they enjoy their breakfast. Sephiroth, smiles at his children’s antics.

Bianca enjoys spending time baking pastries and sweets for Easter. She and Sephiroth will bake a batch of cookies with the kids, though Sephiroth will quietly supervise, making sure nothing goes wrong. Bianca has a tendency to add little surprises like edible glitter or sparkling sugar to make the cookies even more special. The house smells of vanilla, and the whole family takes their time, savoring the sweet moments together. The kids might end up sneaking a cookie or two before they’re even fully cooled, and Bianca will gently scold them, playfully.

After the egg hunt and breakfast, the family might spend a quiet afternoon outdoors. Bianca lays out a blanket for a spring picnic. She brings her homemade delicacies: sweet rolls, fruit tarts, and other treats. Sephiroth sits beside her, enjoying the peacefulness. Aurora and Lucien play nearby, often chasing each other around or trying to fly with their small wings, while Bianca keeps a watchful eye on them. Sephiroth occasionally engages in a quiet chat with Bianca about their children’s growth and the future, away from their usual responsibilities. It’s a rare moment of calmness in their otherwise intense lives.

While not overly formal, Bianca loves dressing the children in something cute but practical for the holiday. She chooses light pastel colors for Aurora, matching with her wings' delicate hues, and a more adventurous, playful design for Lucien. Bianca herself wear something light and airy, embracing the softer side of her nature: like a sundress and a brimmed sunhat. Sephiroth, of course, is always a little more reserved but can be persuaded to wear a simple flower crown (black and silver celestial flowers) in the spirit of the season, much to Aurora’s delight. She may or may not be the one who made it.

@themaradwrites @shepardstales @megandaisy9 @watermeezer

@prehistoric-creatures @creativechaosqueen @chickensarentcheap

@inkandimpressions @arrthurpendragon @projecthypocrisy

[tyrantisterror]

At Sea Without a Map pt. 12

Water laps placidly over the corpse of the enormous stork, this nightmare bird who clearly never forgot that its ancestors were dinosaurs. As you survey the titanic avian's bleeding corpse, a single though dominates your mind: there's a lot of good eating on that bird.

Butchering the monster bird's carcass is no easy feat, especially since you aren't a butcher (that you know of) and are mostly going off of hazy recollections of baking turkeys once a year. Oh, and the fact that the bird you're trying to cook is the size of a goddamn Tyrannosaurus rex (albeit a lot longer in the leg and neck and smaller in the torso). There's more meat than you know what to do with, and some of it looks significantly less appetizing than the others, so you focus on the part of a bird you've always preferred eating when getting fried chicken: the legs.

You shove your harpoon through one of the bird's enormous thighs (once you pried off the feathers and scales, of course) and take some of the stranger instruments in your kitchen to prop it up over a fire you've made out of some sufficiently dry driftwood you've found, and proceed to slowly roast the meat to... well, not perfection, but edibility.

The drumstick is so large, though, that roasting it all in time for dinner is an unlikely prospect, so instead of rotating the rotisserie you decide to just cook one side at a time and call it good. That's... probably fine, right? And if it's not, hey, you're an amnesiac sailor, not an amnesiac chef.

At least one person enjoys your cooking. Clutching a huge chunk of roast stork meat in her long, hook-clawed fingers, Calibani's expression is full of delight as she tears into her meal with insatiable hunger. It's a sight that's at once endearing and terrifying, for while her obvious love for your cooking feels very complimentary, watching her sharp teeth tear into the flesh of that bird keeps reminding you of how she wanted to set those same chompers on you just last night. Plus her teeth don't seem to be fully rooted to her jaw like yours - there's a lot of movement going on behind her lips as she tears the chunk of meat apart that goes beyond the human act of mastication that you're used to seeing.

"What did you call this again?" Calibani asks between mouthfuls of stork meat. "Cooking?"

"Yeah, cooking," you reply. "It makes our food healthier, and it tastes better too."

"That's fantastic!" she squeals after taking another ravenous bite. "I never knew you humans were so clever!"

You laugh. "This isn't even good cooking. If I had some spices, I could-"

Her eyes go wide as she lunges forward and grabs your hands. "Let's find some spices!" she says, her smile wide and and just a bit crazy as her serpentine eyes peer deep into yours. "I'm serious! I want to try good cooking! Where do spices come from?"

You scratch the back of your head. "I dunno, India, I think?"

"Then let's go to India!" She beams at your before adding, "Where's India?"

"I don't know, I don't even know where we are!"

"But I told you, sweetness, we're in the Sea of Monsters!" Calibani shoots you a skeptical yet amused glance. "Don't tell me you forgot that already!"

"No, no, I remember, I just don't know where the Sea of Monsters is in relation to India," you say before adding, "And besides, people crossing the sea to take spices from India has historically resulted in some horrendous shit."

Calibani crosses her arms, puffs out her cheeks, and pouts. "Harrumph!"

Scratching your head again, you suggest "But maybe we can find spices elsewhere?"

Calibani's face lights up again. "Yay! Spices!" She goes back to eating her chunk of stork meat, while you look over the roasting drumstick and think about the day's events.

"Why did they run?" you ask quietly, more to yourself than Calibani.

"Hrmm?" Calibani looks up at you with a huge chunk of meat hanging from between her needle-teeth, then swallows it whole before asking, "Why did who run?"

"The storks," you answer. "They had us outnumbered, easily. Why'd they all take off when we killed their pal here? Why not finish us off?"

"Because they didn't think of that."

You blink, having not expected an actual answer to your question, much less one delivered so bluntly. You look at Calibani, and she has her eyebrows raised like what she's saying should be obvious.

"Most creatures don't think of themselves as part of a group, but as individuals," she explains. "When things go South, their first thought isn't 'what should we do,' but rather, 'what can I do to keep myself safe?' Just a knee-jerk reaction of short-term self-preservation. Those storks saw one of their own die, and each one thought, 'Oh, that could be me next,' and decided to bail. Most creatures work that way."

You nod, realizing her explanation makes an odd sort of sense.

"You're different, though."

That addition hits you like a semi truck. "Whuh?" you grunt in confusion.

Calibani is looking at you very thoughtfully. Her smile is smaller now, as if its flame was intentionally dampened, but no less genuine for it. "You think about others before yourself. That's why you tried to get me onto your boat last night, why you didn't let me fall overboard, why you gave me this nice fuzzy thing to wear-"

"It's called a sweater-"

"Right, a sweater, I remember." She smiles as she rubs the sleeve against her cheek to feel its soft texture. "And it's why you warned me when that bird was coming for us. You could have just run - some would even say that was wise, since I've given you nothing but trouble anyway." Her small, soft smile manages to radiate even brighter than the big ones she was giving earlier. "But you warned me, because that's the kind of person you are. I've never met anyone who acts that way before."

She looks down at her meat, as if afraid to meet your gaze, and you look away too as your struggle to figure out how to even begin responding to her analysis of you. Thankfully, the gap in the discussion proves unbearable for her too, as she breaks the silence with a new topic.

"That harpoon is really amazing! I never would have thought I could take down a creature as big as that bird, not in a million, billion years, but here we are, feasting on its remains thanks to your pointy little stick! You humans are really resourceful, aren't you?"

"Yeah, we're... clever." Your voice trails off as a flurry of thoughts and feelings rain down inside your head. "Calibani?"

"Yes, Sailor?"

"I..." You trail off again. "Um..." There are so many things you want to discuss, but you're not sure where to begin. It seems like the time again to consult your compass.

(We're in another conversation scene, so feel free to reply with questions/discussion topics to bring up. You can offer as many as you like, just make sure you label your suggestions with the Direction they'd correspond to. The more replies this gets, the more in-depth the conversation will be!)

[turtlecleric]

What.... did I just write? Hey @justalotoffanfiction this is your fault, I think.

bay!mikey x fem reader, nsfw I guess but the vibe is more... melancholy?

cws: drugs/altered state of mind, negative thoughts/view of self

---

"Bad day?"

It takes you a moment to fully process that he's there. Another moment to fully process the words. You just nod, and the way his bandana falls over his shoulder captures your attention. Spilling down his plastron, swaying in the air as he bends down. Strange, you think. That it's orange like fire but flows like water.

Yeah, okay. You're definitely feeling it.

You feel gentle fingers brush your hair away from your eyes, and you realize they had fallen shut at some point. When they open again, Mikey is still there. He looks concerned. You wonder why.

"You wanna talk about it?"

A lot of answers run through your mind. Yes. No. Will it always hurt like this. Do you think I'm pretty. When does it stop.

You settle with shaking your head.

"What did you take?"

You sigh, stretching your arms above your head and blinking slowly. What did you take?

"Just some... edibles."

The question makes you smile. He always asks, and you've always responded with the same thing, ever since the beginning. "I'd like that, Stranger."

He hums, and it sounds sad. Again, you wonder why. Is he thinking of her again? The vibrations of his voice tangle with your heartbeat. You feel your pulse in his mouth. Your chest hurts.

"Can I stay with you?"

He tucks his arms beneath you and holds you close, carrying you to the bedroom. You always love the way he does this. Handles you like you're precious. Like you matter. You sigh when he places you on the bed and pulls the blanket over you.

Soft. Warm. Safe. Such a pretty lie.

The world flows around you. Like the air is water. But that would make his bandana like the air, and that's not quite right, is it? You hear Mikey moving around the room, then a song starts to play beneath the waves. Hm. Your record player. He must've pulled it out.

The bed dips, and you open your eyes to see him settle over you. His eyes are unbelievably blue. You want to dive in headfirst. He kisses you, and you let your eyes flutter shut. Slow and wet and cool, stealing your breath like there's water in your lungs. Maybe you did dive in.

Could you ever love me?

Treacherous thought. Dangerous, in fact, because it would be easy to pretend that he could. To imagine that you're anything to him other than a way to get what he wants. To feel his lips on your neck and his hand on your waist and interpret that as love.

Could you ever love me? Could you?

His hand massages your side, your hip, your thigh. You let him do what he wants. Let yourself relax. Might as well give him the one thing you're apparently good for, right? Before he leaves again?

Would you stay? If I asked, would you stay?

You're losing time, you think. You said something, didn't you? Or was that him? Him. His hands, his lips, his tongue. It's hard to think past what you feel, what you hear. Oh, he is talking.

You focus on the rumble of his voice, and his words echo in your head long after he says them. Beautiful. Tight. Perfect. Love.

Love? You're imagining things again. Focus on what's real, silly girl. Stop wishing on the stars you keep seeing in his eyes.

More even than the drugs, he manages to silence your thoughts. To fill you up so completely, to replace everything else with only him and you and the feeling of flying. You wish you could stay in this forever. With him.

But you can't.

He's always sweet. Kind. Gentle and respectful and consistent with his aftercare in a way no other man has ever been with you. But he always leaves right after, which means you can never fully enjoy it.

There's a stillness, now. A silence. Is he even there? Or did he leave you already?

"Hey, Stranger," you mumble softly. A hand finds yours. Not yet, then.

You must be quiet for too long, because he calls your name. Your thumb brushes across the back of his hand. The texture of his scales is pleasant, and you wonder if anyone has ever told him that. You wonder if she ever told him that.

You wonder if he's drowning in the air, too, or if he's learned to swim without you.

He says your name again, like a question. You want to ask him to stay. You want him to stay. You want...

"Nothing," you whisper into the water. "Be safe, okay?"

He hesitates. Swallows. Presses a kiss to your forehead. And it would be so easy to see that as love. So easy, if you weren't you. If you were worth anything at all.

"I will. Good night."

You hum, and his hand lingers for a moment more before it pulls away from your own. The world still spins, even now, and it's not fair. It's never been fair.

When you're sure that he's gone, you let yourself cry.

___

Tag list: @yorshie @khayalli @thejudiciousneurotic @mxalmighty @thelaundrybitch @luckycharms1701

[pocket-lad]

i want a side story about the twins meeting evie sooooo bad 😭🙏

Evie carefully sidestepped a puddle of some kind of unidentifiable goo. There was no telling who, or what, it came from.

Her stomach complained, reminding her for the thousandth time that they were hungry. In the silent night air, it sounded like a screaming animal. She carefully glanced around to see if anybody heard, but obviously nobody was there.

Nowadays, most of her time spent finding food was at night. There was too much commotion during the day, too many people around. Not only were the twins there most of the time, but they often had friends over too. Soos was easy to avoid, since he had been at the shack for a while, and he wasn’t particularly the sharpest tool in the shed. This made his patterns easy to learn.

Evie didn’t necessarily mind the added company, though. It was as good of entertainment as any, and she saw the kids had a really positive effect on Stan. The biggest drawback was that she stayed cooped up working in the lab all day, then had to take care of everything else at night, which meant she hadn’t gotten much sleep at all since summer started.

Maybe that’s why she slipped up.

The kids left behind so much junk, it made feeding herself much easier. There were always crumbs of at least five different foods laying around, she didn’t even have to go into the cupboards. It was just on the counter for the taking!

Evie spotted something edible across the way. She confidently strolled up to see what it was and, if it wasn’t rotten, she fully intended to tuck it away in her bag to enjoy later in the safety of the walls.

BANG!

The crumb was startled right out of Evie’s hand. She jumped, trying to figure out where the noise came from. It sounded like it came from all around her, and she was correct in that assumption. A large glass container fell over top of her, trapping her inside. A jar, most likely, but it was hard to tell exactly from the inside.

Annoyed at whatever Stan was trying to pull, she turned around. “Stan, come on-”

At the same time, a warbled, young voice cried out, “Gotcha! Oh…Huh?”

This wasn’t Stan. It was one of the twins. The boy twin. Dipper.

Evie froze, eyes wide and unblinking, arms stiff at her sides.

“This was…not what I was expecting,” the boy said. “What are you?” He pressed his face up against the glass, and Evie stumbled a couple steps backward.

“I’m not real,” she said, though she regretted her choice immediately. That was going to be a hard one to pull off.

“You…what?”

“I’m not real. I’m a figment of your imagination. You should probably get some sleep or something.” With any luck, he would listen to her, and then she could either find her way out or have Stan help her out in the morning. She hoped for the former, since she would never hear the end of it if Stan found her like this.

Dipper blinked. They both knew it was bull, and they both knew the other knew it was bull.

“Dipper, did you catch it?” came the voice of the other twin. Mabel. Dipper completely blocked Evie’s view, so she didn’t see Mabel approach.

“Yeah, but it’s not what we thought! Look!”

Mabel stepped into view and, upon seeing Evie, pressed her face against the glass. “Woah.” Evie took another couple steps backward. “Tiny person!”

“I’ll have to look through the journal, but we should take it upstairs for now.” He disappeared to go look for something to place under the jar.

“No!” Evie blurted. “No, you shouldn’t do that. You should let me go. Please.”

“Psh, don’t think of it as a hostage situation,” Mabel waved her off. “Think of it as…a sleepover!” Her eyes lit up at the idea.

“Maybe some other time. I really should be getting…home.”

Dipper returned with a newspaper dated 1993. He lifted the jar just enough to slide the paper under, and that was when Evie realized how hopeless the situation was. These kids had no idea what they were doing. They thought she was just some trinket they could play with, and she was powerless to stop them. She knew Dipper and Mabel were good kids - in fact, she liked them a lot, and hoped to introduce herself before the summer was over - but they were just that - kids. They didn’t know any better, and they could do some serious damage if they weren’t careful. Visions of torn limbs and broken bones flashed before her very eyes.

Evie tripped over the newspaper as it roughly crumpled against her feet. God, she wished Stan was here. She’d even concede to the endless harassment which would inevitably accompany her rescue, if only it actually meant rescue.

Something must have heard her prayer, because the next voice was loud, grating, and, most importantly, familiar. “What are you punks doing?” It could only be one person. Evie breathed a sigh of relief.

“Nothing!” the twins shouted in unison, turning to face Stan and block the jar behind their backs.

“Mhm, so you wouldn’t care if I saw what you had in the jar?”

“What jar?” Dipper laughed nervously.

Stan placed a hand on each of their heads and parted them. His eyes landed on Evie. “It's late. I think you knuckleheads should run off to bed.”

“But do you see this!?” Dipper gestured at Evie. “This thing was rummaging around in the shack!”

“What thing?” Stan said.

“The-”

“I don’t see anything. Now off to bed. Both of you. Now.”

There was only so much arguing either of the twins could do, and they knew it was a losing battle. They dejectedly left, despite the blatant lie.

“Nice,” Evie said. Seemed as though the default option for both of them was to pretend she didn’t exist. Not the best idea, but it worked better for Stan than it did for her. And whatever worked…

Stan burst out into laughter at the sight before him. “How’d you manage this one?”

“They set a trap.” A trap she should've easily noticed, in all honesty.

“You want me to let you out of there or something?”

“Yeah, actually, that would be great.”

“On one condition.”

Evie stared blankly at him, awaiting the condition with growing impatience. She noticed his hands resting on the countertop on either side of her. Those hands were the only thing that would grant her her freedom. Of course, that was if she met this one condition, which was mildly aggravating and a bit humiliating.

“I want a ‘Thank you for saving me, Stan.’”

“Thank you for saving me, Stan,” Evie obliged plainly.

“I only think it’s a small price to- wait, what?” Stan expected some sort of fight, though he should have known Evie wouldn’t put up one. It wasn’t in her best interest to be stubborn, she had once explained to him. Still, Stan wanted some pushback once in a while. Ah, well. He cleared his throat awkwardly and lifted the jar away. “Right.”

If only it were that easy, Evie thought with a pang of jealousy, barely paying attention to the now defunct trap as it soared overhead. It was always better to ignore the things that made her feel small.

Evie shivered, ruminating over just how close of a call that was. She was lucky Stan showed up in time, but their problems had only just begun. There was no taking it back. The twins knew she was real. And something told her they wouldn’t let this go.

“Well, now what?” Evie asked to gauge if Stan had any ideas.

“Well, now what what?”

“They know now. What should we do?”

“I don’t see any reason to change anything. They’ll find something else shiny to occupy their child brains and forget about you in a day.”

“I don’t think so-”

Stan popped a cookie in his mouth. “Trust me. What’s the worst that could happen? They’re good kids. Know right from wrong and all that junk.” Crumbs poured from his mouth as he spoke, and Evie held up her hands to shield herself from a majority of the debris.

“I can think of quite a few things just off the top of my head, actually.”

“You’ll be fine,” Stan assured, nudging her with a knuckle. Evie fell over from the force, something she was far too used to by now but still hated with a passion. Her cheeks turned red, but Stan was already on his way back to bed. She absentmindedly rubbed her arm, feeling the spot where his finger made contact. Maybe he was right. Maybe this would all blow over in a couple days. 

***

Over the next few weeks, Evie was super careful. She would continue to be careful, too, but no traps were set, there were no prying eyes to be found. Evie could almost say she was in the clear.

“That’s her!” Mabel shout-whispered. Anyone within a five mile radius could have heard her.

Evie closed her eyes and let out a deep sigh. This was inconvenient, to say the least. Without even looking, context clues told her that she was about to meet someone new. Dragging out the action as long as possible and willing time itself slow down, Evie turned around.

Peeking around the corner were three heads. Mabel. Dipper. And Soos.

“Oh dude, it kinda gives me the creeps,” Soos chuckled.

“Shh, I think she can hear you!”

“It can see us, too, guys,” Dipper pointed out. “It’s looking right at us.”

“I don’t like the way it moves. Too human,” Soos continued.

Mabel took the initiative to step out from behind the door frame first and she gave Evie the biggest grin possible. “Hi. I think we got off on the wrong foot. My name’s Mabel.”

Evie thought about how animals never smiled at each other. Bared teeth were a sign of aggression in the animal kingdom, and now she understood why. Now that she thought about it, Stan hardly smiled, so her exposure to such a thing was limited. Looking at Mabel’s wide grin, she couldn’t help but notice how big each individual tooth was, and how each one had metal embedded into it. Evie didn’t even want to guess what that metal was for.

“Evie,” she said, remembering to introduce herself. She should have run away by now. She should have been in the walls by now. But for some reason or other, her feet would not budge. They may as well have been glued down for all the use they were to her right now.

“This is my brother Dipper, and that’s Soos.”

“I’m Soos,” Soos clarified. He inched closer and, after further inspection (which made Evie deeply uncomfortable), his demeanor shifted. “Wait, I actually changed my mind. It’s kinda cute, dudes.”

Soos was perhaps the most daunting of them all. At the end of the day, they were all giant people with giant hands who could do whatever they wanted to her. A hand slightly shorter than her whole body could snatch her up just as easily as a hand slightly larger than her whole body. But Soos was big. It was hard to look at him, both physically and mentally, and it was clear he was just as curious, just as clumsy as any child.

“Glad to see you’re alive,” Dipper said.

Evie’s eyes bugged, and Mabel clarified. “He just means we thought Stan might’ve killed you or something. Haha.”

Suddenly, a large finger slammed into her stomach, knocking all the wind out of her lungs. It pushed her a couple paces backwards, then retreated. “Boop,” Soos said, then chuckled again.

It took Evie a moment to recover from the poke, unable to draw a proper breath on the first few attempts. She instinctively started to back up, nervous about just how surrounded and overpowered she was. Her eyes darted between all three of them too, since she couldn’t be sure where the next attack would come from.

“Oh no, you don’t have to be scared! I made Dipper pinky promise not to trap you again.”

That was only a fraction of Evie’s worries. She jumped when her back hit the wall behind her. There was nowhere to retreat.

Mabel tried her best to keep the conversation going. She was normally so good at this, so it was frustrating to know the small person did not immediately find her endearing. She’d win the creature over, she just needed to figure out how. “Sooooo, how do you know our Grunkle Stan?”

“Uh,” Evie blinked. “Uh, we go way back.”

“How far back?” Dipper asked, a hint of suspicion in his voice. His shadow encompassed all of Evie and then some.

The room grew hotter by the second. Sweat dripped down the back of Evie’s neck. Her collar was sticky and constricting, no matter how much she tugged it away. “Way, way back. Um, I’m going to leave. Now.”

Announcing her plan to leave was perhaps one of the stupider things she’d done in the last five minutes. Any element of surprise flew out the window, and with it her chance to escape.

“Woah, we’re not going to hurt you. We just have a few questions,” Dipper said, and even he seemed to realize just how worked up Evie had gotten. It wasn’t that serious. Unless it was. But it probably wasn’t. Probably.

Evie knew that ‘a few questions’ could easily turn into something worse if she didn’t answer them correctly. “Uh…” She glanced around desperately for an escape route. In her experience, there was always a fair shot when she just sent it, so she made a beeline straight for the walls. It left a ton of open air around her, but it also left nothing to slow her down. She cleared the entrance to the walls in no time, though she knew it was only because they let her get away. She wasn’t as fast as she used to be, and even at her top speed, she was never a match for any giant.

Evie decided to never leave the walls again. Not until they got Ford back.

Actually, the twins reminded her a bit of Ford, now that she thought about it. She couldn’t exactly call them harmless, but they all had a deep curiosity they couldn’t let go unexplored. She had indulged Ford long ago, gave him a chance, and it actually worked out. Well, until it didn’t.

So maybe Evie would try again later in a controlled environment after she had time to calm down and think about it. After all, she didn’t want them seeking her out and, moreover, she didn’t want to completely annihilate any chance of a relationship with the kids. She’d have to remember to work that into her schedule, but for now, she really had to focus on the portal. They were so close. Ford would be back any day now, she was sure of it.

[fnaf-at-freddys]

Quick Genona fic :) hope u enjoy

Genny awoke from her slumber, and found herself held tightly in place by a pair of strong arms. Those arms belonged to her girlfriend, Winona, who was still snoring away. Genny smiled. Winona had always been such a deep sleeper, much to her own dismay. It was just another thing that made Genny love her so much.

"I must be dreaming." She thought to herself. "I've woken up in the arms of the most beautiful woman in the world." Winona let out a particularly loud snore, as if in response to her train of thought. Genny couldn't help but giggle, and gently planted a kiss on her forehead.

She shifted closer, taking in the sensation of skin again skin. Genny had never felt something so right, so natural. It was as if her very mind, body, and soul were all made for that very moment, as if she was made to love Winona. She wondered if Winona felt the same way, surely she must.

Genny's latest attempts to snuggle in closer had caused Winona to wake up. Groggily, she released her hold.

"Good morning, Nona." Genny greeted, causing her to show a sleepy smile. Winona slowly sat up in bed and stretched, her spine popping like firecrackers.

"Geez, I dunno how you can sleep in this thing, it's way too soft." She remarked, although Genny didn't mind. Winona's seeming resistance for comfort was another part of her she adored.

Winona didn't stay in bed long, soon enough she hopped out of bed and strode to the small kitchenette in Genny's apartment. "Waddya want for breakfast?" She asked. "Eggs on toast?" She didn't wait for a reply, already rummaging through Genny's fridge and cabinets for bread and eggs, all the while Genny watched lovingly from the bed.

The breakfast was fine, the toast a little burnt, but otherwise edible. Genny appreciated the favor, and ate heartily. Although there was little conversation, the mutual enjoyment of the other's company was palpable.

Once they finished eating, the pair strode towards the bed and rummaged through their hastily discarded uniforms. Figuring out which belonged to who was simple enough, but they loathed to get dressed. Every step of getting ready meant one moment they were closer to being separated. They couldn't quite be as affectionate in publish as they wished, especially not at work.

Once both women were fully dressed, they sighed in mutual discontent. They left Genny's apartment, arm in arm, savoring the time they had together before their arrival at work. Although their stations were close by, it wasn't as close as they would wish. Little conversation passed between them during work hours, anyway. Only wayward glances, and shy smiles when their gaze would meet. They got through the day knowing once their shifts were finished, they could be back in each other's arms, just as they were that morning. As they say, parting is the hardest part of being in love.