#well maybe not the same shoes but similar

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hey um, what if the Overblot boys told each other their backstories?

Mmm… Well firstly, I think it would take a lot of effort to arrive at a point where all of the OB boys would even feel comfortable being that emotionally intimate with the others. Many of the OB boys are highly guarded and resistant to putting themselves in compromising positions. For example, I can easily see Azul being paranoid that the others would use his background as blackmail; he would not risk having his own vulnerabilities becoming public knowledge. Would Leona really be okay with being sentimental in front of various people he dislikes, especially Malleus and Vil? Would Idia feel safe unpacking his trauma and grief in front of his peers? Etc, etc, etc.

Secondly, I think that even if the OB boys were hypothetically at the point where they were okay sharing their backstories with the others, it wouldn’t change much about their immediate circumstances?? The OB boys generally don’t strike me as particularly… empathetic? At least not automatically empathetic. It’s something they would need to put effort into and actively work on. I imagine that they’d otherwise just pull a Zuko-style “That’s rough, buddy” or potentially even say something tactless that rubs their peers the wrong way (for example, not fully understanding the situation or even downplaying one another’s trauma). Riddle (someone with very little to no experience with social media and entertainment mediums) might not get how being a celebrity influences Vil’s life, Leona might insult Malleus (someone whom he has a bone to pick with), everyone might still be upset with Malleus for what he did to them in book 7. etc. Each OB boy only has their own experiences as the lens through which they see and interact with the world, and it’s not that easy for just anyone to put themselves in the shoes of another person.

Hearing a (for lack of a better term) traumadump doesn’t necessarily mean you’ll connect with it or understand just how grueling it was for the person who experienced said trauma. It would usually take a significant amount of time and reflection (ideally facilitated by a licensed mediator or professional) to digest those stories in group therapy and to make sure that everyone actually understands one another. A surface-level story retelling alone in most cases isn’t (again, for lack of a better term) “enough”, especially with how self-centered, emotionally immature, and different many of the OB boys are.

Think of empathy like a skill or a muscle. It isn’t innate. You need to develop it and train it, and not putting it to use can lead to atrophy. And given how arrogant and independent your usual NRC student is… yeah, it’s definitely going to be something for them all to work on.

If you want to think of it another way, it’s like how different players will react differently to reading the OB boys’s backstories. Someone who experienced bullying similar to Azul could more easily empathize with him while also not fully “getting” the full scope of other stories they hear. Maybe they can’t understand why Riddle still cares about the mother who mistreated him. Maybe they don’t see why Jamil sacrifices so much for his family. It doesn’t make the player a bad person for not understanding all the stories, it simply means they have a limited perspective. The same is true of the TWST characters; they, too, have incomplete points of views.

Maybe knowing their backstories in advance would change some scenes in small ways (such as book 6, when they split up and then butt heads with each other). They’d know where the other boys were coming from, and how that informs how they act in present day. However, I maintain that I think not much would change from the original. In a stressful situation like book 6, they could easily slip up and say something insensitive/make assumptions about their behavior based on their background/overlook or not even consider their background in the first place since they’re so focused on the current task. For example, Azul, feeling insulted that Riddle is underestimating him, could make a snide remark that just because his mother was a control freak doesn’t mean Riddle also has to be. Jamil could still see Leona as a spoiled prince because, despite being treated like an outcast, he still grew up in immense privilege as royalty. They can so easily fixate on their own interpretations of events that it colors how they perceive others, rather than how they can relate to others no matter how similar or dissimilar their experiences were.

In other ways, I think the OB boys sharing their backstories with one another stifles potentially meaningful development. Character growth in TWST isn’t a sprint, it’s a marathon, and we’re here for the long haul. What does depositing all the backstories in their laps achieve for the OB boys? It artificially puts them in a situation to “better know” their peers rather than let it happen organically or allowing them to grow closer through their own efforts. Let’s look at the Deuce-Epel beach scene from book 5. Do you think it would have been as impactful of a scene if Epel explained his life in the countryside and how he got his traditional views on gender norms to Deuce? Personally, I don’t think so. The scene we currently have has them bonding and connecting through a shared activity (shouting at the sea), then having a heart-to-heart without a heavy backstory exposition. It’s through that, not explicit backstory sharing, that the two form an attachment and become genuine friends.

Those are all my thoughts!! ^^

[smile-files]

(looking at inanimate insanity under a microscope) hmmmm i know there's a moral orel au in here somewhere......

[transmaverique]

gonna be honest I see anyone talking about this "my gender is more complicated than yours" shit as someone who genuinely cannot comprehend that other people that don't share certain traits with them can still in fact have rich interior lives. as an agender trans woman who uses she/her I've never had anyone say it to me who wasn't (usually unknowingly) transmisogynistic

see but im not talking about "rich interior lives" and the assumption that i am is exactly what im talking about. i am talking about the actual physical way that reality treats and percieves me in comparison to the way it treats and percieves you. saying my gender is "more complex" means to me that i am physically incapable of existing in a strictly binary world and that there is no thing i can pass as bc "binary man" and "binary woman" are both incorrect for me. and the Cisiety in question does not allow androgyny to exist - it is exclusively the timeframe people have to decide whether they think you are a cisman or a ciswoman, or a failure and a freak. i dont subscribe to that "binary privilege" shit, thats not how privilege works. but there are differences in the ways both you and i can navigate this strictly binary Cisiety!!! and those differences deserve to be named, imo

like. again. i dont have to comfort you about your own internal sense of gender before youll listen to me about my experiences in the real world as genderqueer. as a different sort of transsexual than you.

(and bc i Know what binary ppl love to say: i know not everyone is 'capable of passing'. what i am talking about specifically is the difference between being unable to pass as a cis woman or a cis man vs being unable to pass bc what i am does not exist AT ALL in a binary society, and both of those things are incorrect ans unattainable.)

(anyways if that language is too imperfect for you thats like fine but. its just confusing to me, i dont get why its hard to understand what we are talking about here. our experiences w our nonbinary genders are completely different! why do i have to discuss them like theyre the same?)

[iid-smile]

gojo would...

if you were dating them...

turn off infinity whenever you're around. he does risk it in public so he can hold your hand, but he remains very aware of his surroundings. if you're running up to him to surprise him with a hug, just at the last second he notices and quickly turns it off. pretends to be surprised because you look too cute thinking you got him. he does like to mess with you using infinity as well, and leave you waiting for ages just so you can touch him. you'd be there for five minutes, and still not even close to him, and he'd be so giddy about it.

break the sound barrier when hanging up. even when you ask him not to, even when you're on the brink of falling asleep, even when you're in public, he'll scream his heart out. everyone within a two meter radius can hear him through your phone and that is beyond embarrassing. please cut him off before he gets to finish saying "i love you", because he's not going to stop even after saying that. even when you're in the same place, but different rooms, he'd scream, then enter the room you're in so casually as if nothing happened, not even mentioning what happened just under a minute ago. why is he so serious about it?

paint his nails with you. there's no way gojo hasn't had his nails painted at least once. i think the first time you'd ask him to do yours, he'd purposely make it look bad, but the next few times all of his focus is going into it. you'd both do surprise designs <3 gojo always does blue to match his eyes, or pink, just because. would actually invest money into getting better quality polish, cuticle equipment and charms. now, his nails are always painted, whether that be a design, or just plain clear gel polish.

bring you different sweet treats from the prefectures he visits. then you'd see at least half of them are missing??? pretends that he didn't eat them, but the evidence is written all over his face, and quite literally. he would never bring something too similar twice in a row, and adjusts to your taste preferences so he'd buy something perfect for you every time.

buy you anything you mention to him. his money knows no limits. complain that your shoes are getting worn out? there's a brand new pair at your doorstep, and maybe another pair you've been eyeing every time you enter the store. talk about getting into bullet journals or art? every single pen, pencil, paint, highlighters or anything known to man would show up all at once, and you have the freedom to pick and choose which brands you do or don't like. it's been three weeks since you got your nails done? he's sending you over 30k yen so you can get them redone, and you didn't even ask that time. it looks like he's not listening when you talk, but he is. may also send you money "randomly" if he knows you're going out to buy groceries or some new clothes.

─────────────୨ৎ─────────────

[amomentsescape]

hi hi! I was hoping you could do slashers with a super bubbly and affectionate s/o who would beat up anyone who dares hurt the slasher while still holding their sweet smile

Slashers with Sweet and Dangerous! Reader

Slashers x Reader (Separate)

Includes: Freddy, Michael, Jason, Thomas, Bubba, Brahms, Norman, Billy, Stu, Vincent, & Bo

A/N: So I got a bit carried away and wrote this as if Reader is willing to kill for the Slashers. So hopefully it's not too intense for what you were wanting! Feel free to let me know what you think :)

Freddy Krueger

He knew there was a reason he was so drawn to you

You were sweet, kind, and just an overall ray of sunshine that Freddy never knew he needed

He loves basking in your warmth

But seeing you hold that damn grin while ripping out someone's throat for just punching Freddy has him weak in the knees

He loves the affectionate sweet side to you, don't get him wrong

But knowing that you can do a complete 180 makes him feel like he's in his own beautiful type of dream

He feels more comfortable telling you his plans now and the types of ideas he has for killing future victims

And you just sit there all happily and nod along like he's telling you a bedtime story

It's cute but also so foreign to him

He has a hard time remembering that you can be just as deadly as him when you want to be

Michael Myers

He honestly has no idea how to feel about this situation

It took him some time to get used to being with someone so cuddly and happy all the time

He wasn't much of a fan of it at first, but something inside him refused to let you go or kill you

But seeing you smile over his victims and even step in to prevent him from getting injured has him confused

He is more than capable of protecting himself

He doesn't need you getting involved

But at the same time, knowing he isn't the only one with this grotesque side makes him feel.... content, in a way

He just doesn't like you stepping in too much

His victims are his, and he refuses to share

But if you save him from getting stabbed or set on fire

Well... then that's fine he guesses

Jason Voorhees

You two are practically different sides to the same coin

He comes off as deadly, incapable of emotions, and just an overall killing machine

But when he's with you, he's the sweetest and most kind man you have ever met

You're practically the opposite

You come off as an innocent, bubbly goody-two-shoes to most of the public

But when someone dares hurt Jason, a hidden poison emerges from within you

Jason never thought you were capable of picking up his notorious machete, nonetheless swinging it right through someone's skull

He just froze up in shock at this realization

He was drawn to how sweet you were to him, but knowing that you're capable of killing only makes him more happy

He was always worried that you would leave him after dealing with his darkness for too long

But knowing that you aren't all sunshine and rainbows has reassured him

Thomas Hewitt

Considering what his family eats every night for dinner, he would have hoped that you were capable of similar actions to him

Killing is just a way of life to him, so knowing that you can do the same is so normal

That isn't to say that he wasn't surprised the first time you stuck up for him

But if anything, that surprise was immediately followed by a sense of relief

If you can do that, then you can fit right in with the rest of his family!

They liked how affectionate and kind you were to Thomas, but they were always worried that you were going to be too soft for their way of life

Now he knows there's nothing to worry about

Well, maybe except for getting on your bad side

You always have that sweet smile on your face, and he'll be damned if he pisses you off one of these times

Bubba Sawyer

The first time you killed for him, he couldn't help but jump around in glee

You're just like him!

You're covered in blood and guts but still smile sweetly at Bubba

Just like he does for you

It honestly just reinforces the idea that you were meant to be together in his mind

You stick up for him, and he sticks up for you

With that being said, he does still paint you as this sweet little angel that needs to be safe at all times

He doesn't want you to get your hands dirty unless absolutely necessary

So he prefers for you to stay away from all the carnage he goes through on a daily basis

But he won't try and control you

As long as he is met with that soft smile and big hug at the end of a long day, Bubba is content

Brahms Heelshire

Oh...

He's flattered, don't get him wrong

The fact that you're willing to protect him shows that you really are devoted to him

And he loves that

But he also doesn't want you intruding with his desires

That person is going to die?

Brahms wants to be the one to see their last breath

It's not very often he gets to feel like this, so he wants to soak up every exhilarating second of it while it's there

And you're just so pure and kind that he doesn't want you becoming all tainted like him

Your job is to be the good in Brahms and take care of him

Not to let this darkness take over

You provide, he protects

That's all he asks for

Norman Bates

And to think after all of this time, Norman just assumed you were like him

Quiet, sweet, affectionate

He had no idea you'd be capable of fully plunging a knife into someone's neck just for saying a couple mean words to Norman

But he secretly couldn't help the way he admired your blood splattered face, that smile he loved so much shining through it all

He likes feeling protected by you

It lets him know that you really care about him

And the fact that you can flip from one side to the other is so intriguing to him

In every other situation, you speak softly and gently laugh at the smallest things

But when one bad thing happens, the darkness creeps out

It doesn't freak him out as much as he would have originally thought

He just still can't believe that these sides to you are coming from the same person

Who is he to judge though?

Billy Loomis

Billy was immediately attracted to your warm energy

But he was also hesitant that he would somehow contaminate you with his trauma and dark fantasies

He wanted to keep you as were: the bubbly and happy partner that was always by his side

But when a last minute heist was going wrong, he would have never expected to look over and see you all bloody, a stained knife in your hand and a lifeless body on the floor

When he called your name, all you did was look up at him and smile

Billy just about lost it

He had always thought that he needed to be the one to protect you and himself

But seeing you throw yourself into violence for his sake was absolutely beautiful

He didn't think you'd be capable of something like this

But knowing that you are makes him love you that much more

You're nothing but perfect for him

Stu Macher

He won't say it out loud, but he's the tiniest bit scared of you

Not in a bad way by any means

If anything, he thinks it's sexy

And he can see a bit of familiarity in the way you act too

You both enjoy laughing at stupid things and keeping the energy up when needed

At any given moment, you two are all over each other and smiling so wide that you can feel your cheeks burn

You two make the ultimate power couple

But if someone dares say something bad about you, they're dead the next morning

And if Stu gets hurt by one of his attempted victims, you better believe you'll be there to finish the job

Stu honestly loves how deceiving you can be

No one would ever look at you and expect you to have this darker element

But to be fair, he's in the same boat

No one would ever suspect him of such behavior

And that's probably why you two make the perfect team

Vincent Sinclair

He never thought he'd ever meet some who cared for him the way you do

Especially resorting to violence just to keep him safe

This must be some sort of dream

You practically tore this person to shreds and yet, you're still able to turn back at Vincent and smile sweetly, asking if he's okay

Are you even the same person he was just cuddling with 10 minutes ago?

He worries that you'll get yourself hurt one of these times, so he tries to advise you against doing something like that again

But he won't deny the thrill it gave him seeing you act so... differently

Just please don't step in unless absolutely necessary

If anything happened to you, he wouldn't know what to do

He knows you can clearly take care of yourself, he just doesn't want to risk it

Bo Sinclair

What a precious little thing

It would be a lie to say that Bo wasn't immediately drawn to your softness and positivity

You radiated sunshine, and it was a new experience for him

He has always wanted to be the protector in his relationships

And he truly had no clue that you weren't just another damsel looking to be rescued

He remembers the first time you saved his ass

He turned up to see the man with a metal pipe sticking out of his chest

All the while, you're standing behind him, that sweet little smile still on your face like usual

Bo was at a complete loss for words

He loves this side to you

He still likes to feel all bad and tough

And he loves when you ask him for help and play up the innocence

But when something comes up, he knows he doesn't need to worry about you

[frudoo]

Trapped in the forest with a feral John Price could be hot 🔥

WOOF bestie you are so right 😩

Warnings: Non-con to dub-con, John Price is stupidly big. Fem!Reader.

“I know you’re out there, birdie.”

God, you hate his taunting voice, the lilt that makes it sound like he’s singing to you. You hate your friends for abandoning you in this creepy fucking forest, you hate the way every dead leaf manages to crunch beneath your feet no matter how quiet you try to be. You’ve been sneaking away from the giant man for what feels like hours but his voice never gets further away, always right on the brink of being too damn close.

“Nothin’ to be afraid of, girlie, jus’ wanna take care o’ya.”

His call is loud, somewhere behind you, before you hear a thud and then silence follows. You stop dead in your tracks—did he fall down and knock himself out? Maybe you ought to check, make sure he’s really down and no longer on your trail. Slowly, you turn around and take a few steps where you remember the thud to have sounded, but there’s no body slumped over itself. At least, nothing human.

You gasp at the sight of a whimpering dog with an injured paw, instantly kneeling down to try and help the poor pup. You hold her paw in your hand to examine it but there’s nothing wrong, no thorns or cuts in her pads. You furrow your eyebrows and pet behind her ears, cooing softly to her.

“What’s wrong, baby? Where’s your-”

Your sentence is interrupted by strong arms lifting your body up, one hand covering your mouth. You shriek, clawing at the man’s hairy arms as you try to kick free from his hold. It’s useless—he’s so much stronger than you, and the pain you’re inflicting doesn’t even register in his brain.

He knows what he wants, and he’s going to have it.

The ‘injured’ dog stands from her place on the ground and sprints away at the man’s command, full weight on her paw. Your stomach flips at the realization. He used his dog as a trap.

“P-please don’t hurt me! I’ll do- I’ll do anything, please!” You sputter, fat tears streaming down your face as the man lays you on the ground.

“Not gonna hurt ya. No, could never hurt my pretty girl, never,” the man murmurs, and despite the fact that he’s currently binding your wrists to the tree behind you with his belt, his words are gentle and seemingly sincere.

Once your hands are secure, he leans down to kiss you, frowning when you flinch and turn away before his lips are able to meet yours. He grunts and tries again, but when you repeat the action he cups your jaw in one large hand, keeping you still and finally pressing his mouth to yours. He tastes like tobacco and smells of it too, earthy and dewy much like the grass he’s trapped you against.

“Atta girl, jus’ submit t’me.”

There’s a wide smile on his face when he pulls back, thumbing away a string of saliva that remains on your bottom lip. Then his hands trail down your body, ripping open your tank top and pulling your tits out from the cups of your bra. You can’t hold back the moan that escapes your traitorous throat when he wraps his lips around one nipple and sucks, pinching the other between his thumb and forefinger.

“N-no, please…” you cry, trying to kick him away, but he just growls and suckles harder in response.

Damn your body for not fighting him harder, and damn your pussy for getting so wet from this. His hot tongue trails down your stomach while his large hands expertly undo your pants and pull them as well as your knickers off of you completely. He even tosses your shoes and socks aside, kissing his way from your toes all the way to your inner thighs, then planting his lips right over your clit. He groans against your cunt and you can see the way his hips buck against the ground as he tastes you.

In a similar fashion to the way he’d sucked your nipple, he does the same to your swollen bud, circling his tongue over it repeatedly. You’re gushing out abundances of your arousal much to your dismay—and his delight—and he dips his tongue into your entrance to drink it all up. You hate how good it feels, how tight the coil in your belly has gotten, how close you are to the edge. He slides his tongue through your folds and sucks on your clit once more and then you’re screaming, trying to fight off the euphoric waves as they overtake you.

The man’s eyes roll into the back of his head as he slurps up all of your juices. As quickly as he’d started, he pulls away, and those dexterous hands shove down his pants to allow his stupidly fat cock to bounce out. It’s obviously heavy, fully erect and yet still drooping away from his soft stomach, curved and slick with precum. You whimper at the sight, shaking your head as more pleas escape you.

“No! No, please don’t, sir, please… I’ll do anything…” You sob, legs still trying to kick at him even as he parts your thighs and settles himself between them.

“You’ll take my cock,” he responds gruffly, a low moan leaving his throat when he shoves the tip past the barrier of your pussy.

The stretch burns like hell and you scream at the intrusion, wrists desperately trying to tug free from their restraints so you can shove him off. It wouldn’t have worked, anyway, not with his strength and the determination he has to claim you. With a grunt and a hard thrust, he sinks all the way inside, giving you only a few seconds to adjust before he’s rutting into you wildly.

“Ah, so fuckin’ tight. Knew ya would be. Knew ya’d fit me so fuckin’ well.”

Cold sweat trickles down his freckled face and drips onto your cheeks, making you flinch every time you feel a drop make contact. His dick is stuffing you so fucking full, and all you can do is lay there and take it. The initial pain is gone and in its place is a revolting pleasure, one that makes you roll your hips against his. The man smiles proudly, using the backs of your knees to push your legs up to your chest.

“Yeah, feels good, don’t it, girlie? Can feel your cunt clenchin’ ‘round me. Fuckin’ cum on my cock. Do it. Give it t’me.”

His pace quickens tenfold, making your vision go white as his fat tip bullies your g-spot with every thrust. Your entire body convulses when you climax but he doesn’t relent, fucking you through your high and overstimulating you in the process. It doesn’t matter to the man mounting you, his eyes so far back in his skull you’re not sure they’ll ever return to their normal position. An animalistic growl escapes his throat and then you feel ribbons of hot cum spurting inside of you, filling you to the brim.

You hate the way his cum leaks out of you when he pulls out, spilling to the ground and wasting all of his hard work. After he tucks his dick away and gives you a passionate, tender kiss, he releases you from the restraints and scoops you up into his big burly arms, carrying you back to his little shack where his actor of a pup is waiting for him with a wagging tail.

Maybe the forest isn’t so bad, after all.

[gatorbites-imagines]

Kinktober day 14

Conner Kent + Breeding and/or excessive cum

I shall always devour my kryptonian headcanons. Atlantean reader, because I was feeling nasty when I wrote this. *tucks hair behind ear*

I may have taken the word excessive too far...

Kinktober 2023 masterlist.

You were Atlantean, going by the hero name Cetus. It hadn’t been your choice, the name, but one the public started calling you because of your uniform when you started. You were the offspring of an Atlantean and an Amazon warrior. You had been born on Themyscira, but the fact that you were born male and with the need to be in the ocean, you were given to your father to be raised.

You still visited your mother regularly, and got trained by not only her but her friends, that mixed with the training of your father, who was a skilled warrior himself, you became very skilled. When you chose to start fighting crime, your mother had given you a uniform created by the same individuals who armoured the Amazonians, as she wanted you to be safe.

It was similar to the outfit of a gladiator, but had been made in a material that allowed you to stay in the ocean. Your outfit also had actual shoes, and had little exposed skin to keep you safe from enemies, but the Greek inspiration was very clear. It had led to all kinds of theories amongst the people that you were some secret warrior raised by the Amazonians, which was partly true, but your Atlantean heritage didn’t stay a secret for long since you did many of your battles side by side with Aquaman, Aqualad, and the likes.

You were put on the young justice team since you had more experience than the rest, but you were still young enough to not count as a full-fledged hero just yet. You worked well together with the team, getting along better with some more than others. There were some arguments with Megan, as an Atlantean you possessed telepathy, and you disagreed with her ways of using her powers at times.

This led to arguments with Conner, as he was defensive of the girl he had feelings for at the time, but as time passed you all matured. Conner and Megan broke up after a short relationship as teens, you split off from the team to be your own thing, so on and so forth.

This didn’t mean you didn’t work with the other heroes on the regular, but you weren’t a member of any team, except for a place on the justice league roster like most others in your situation. It was because of this you were placed on a mission with Conner, to a dessert of all places. It must have been a mistake, or the ones sending you there hadn’t planned on you guys staying there for so long, but even as a halfblooded Atlantean you still needed water after a while.

Conner had panicked when you suddenly dropped like a bag of bricks, as you’d been out of the ocean for a long time before the mission even started, having to work together with other members of the league on reports and the like. It had been a plan for a quick scouting mission, but here you were, dehydrated and with your consciousness fading in and out.

Conner had never dealt with you become dehydrated, sure he’d seen other Atlanteans, but your half status allowed you to go longer without. The two of you ended up in a small cave Conner had found, as he hoped bringing you out of the sun would help. Normally he would have just carried you off to the ocean, but seeing you, someone he thought as almost unbeatable and someone he had come to develop feeling for as well, collapse in that way, he had panicked.

In your half-conscious state, you had knocked off your helmet, one that looked similar to that of a gladiator but without the hairs on top, the golden metal rolling across the cold floor of the cave. You were splayed out across the cold stone floors, your half lid eyes looking up at the kryptonian standing above you through your lashes, your dry tongue subconsciously running across your bottom lip.

Maybe it was the candle you had held for Conner for a long time, maybe it was just delirium, but you nudged his subconscious with your own, planting images of him crouched above you on his knees, his hands undoing the bottom of his suit. Conner sputtered, going completely red in the face as he tried to stutter out words, his kryptonian biology kicking in at the fact that the one he yearned for seemed to return the want.

His hands came to cradle his crotch, trying to hide how he was already becoming hard at the mere thought of doing what you seemed to want of him. Conner was still trying to fully comprehend what you had hinted at wanting, his face only going redder and cock growing harder as you made easy work of removing the upper part of your armour and undersuit, leaving your upper body completely bare.

“Please Conner…” you mumble out, your tongue already feeling thick and useless as you gulp, your mouth dry and uncomfortable. Conner gulped, glancing behind him towards the entrance of the cave as if debating on simply flying off to gather water, but the wanting look in your eyes seemed to be what he needed to make his decision.

You both moaned softly as Conner undid the bottom of his suit, his heavy length twitching to the colder air of the cave as he shuffled forwards, placing his knees on either side of your torso as your hands came up to rest of his tense thighs. You gulped dryly as his cock twitched in his hand, a thick bead of precum already dripping from the tip and landing on your neck, a shiver running through you as your eyelids fluttered as you felt the water inside the liquid slide into your skin.

It probably wasn’t the most useful or sanitary idea on fixing your situation, but laying there as Conner jerked himself off above you quickly made those thoughts disappear from the both of you. Conner let his hips buck into both of his hands that he had wrapped tightly around his thick length, twisting his already wet hands as precum dripped in a constant river down onto your skin.

You didn’t have to do much, just squeezing his thighs seemed to do the trick as Conner looked down at you, his pupils large as they almost swallowed up the blue of his eyes. His cock throbbed, a moan leaving him as you opened your mouth, sticking out your dry tongue. That seemed to do the trick as the hero above you let out a deeper drawn-out groan as he came, shooting thick heavy spurts across your face and tongue.

He shivered, but his erection didn’t seem to let up, one of the positives of being kryptonian it seemed, his hands only growing slicker, the noises only growing wetter and more erotic as his movements only seemed to grow more desperate. The cum on your tongue assisted in returning the wetness to your mouth, the light-headedness seeming to leave you to a certain degree.

With your newly returned awareness, you leaned up, pressing the flat of your tongue against his leaking tip, causing Conners hips to buck as another spurt of cum shot out of him, striking the top of your mouth, and spilling down your chin and soaking the skin of your throat and chest. A satisfied hum left you as you swallowed the thick liquid in your mouth with an audible gulp, growing more and more confident in your movements.

Conner couldn’t help but buck his heads, the hands gripping himself letting go so he could lean forwards, supporting his weight instead so he wouldn’t collapse on top of you as you closed your lips around his tip, starting to work your head up and down as you rubbed your tongue all over the skin you could reach.

The kryptonians noises had reached a higher pitch as you kept moving your lips up and down his slick length, drawing out orgasm after orgasm from his heavy cock, letting it fill your mouth just to let it overflow and start running down the rest of your torso. Conner had never dabbled much with his refractory period or his biology, but now he cursed not being curious in the past as he seemed to be stuck in a constant state of orgasm as you drew more and more out of him, it seemed never-ending.

With one last lewd slurp you finally withdrew from his cock, a thick string of spit and cum connecting the tip of your tongue with his length, the string pulling before it snapped, joining the rest of the lewd mess that had been left all over your torso and face. Conner was still shivering above you, somehow still hard but so sensitive as you carefully pushed at his torso to get him to sit up again.

He blushed as he finally focused on the sight of you as you laid there covered in his fluids, making a huge mess of the cave floor beneath you, but neither of you seemed to truly care at the moment. Conner bit his lip as he shuffled down your torso, straddling your hips instead as his hand came up to wipe away some of the cum covering your lower face, his face still red as he leaned in, pressing his lips almost shyly against yours.

You couldn’t help but find it amusing how the guy who had just covered you in so much of his essence seemed so shy about kissing you, or how he was still hard against your stomach, but you responded in kind to his kiss, shutting your eyes to enjoy the press of lips on lips. You found your hands resting on his hips as the kiss was disconnected, spit connecting your mouths as he sat back. “Guess you aren’t dehydrated anymore, huh?” Conner chuckled breathlessly, gulping as he sat back on your thighs.

You found your lips pursing as you reached down, grabbing at his hardness, causing Conner to whimper as his hips bucked into your hand. “That doesn’t mean were done though” you mumble, starting to jerk your hand, much you Conners enjoyment. It was gonna be a while before you two would be done here, maybe you’d actually end up finding the limit to the kryptonian refractory period, but only time would tell.

[joshslater]

Emergency Model

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"Excuse me, what's your shoe size?"

Bewildered I looked around to find the man who asked the random question, like out of that old episode of Monty Python. Off to the side, almost behind me, was a thirty-ish man in polo shirt, jeans, and glasses with plastic rims that looked purposefully selected to make him look like a film director or architect. He looked unsure or stressed. "Eight, eight and a half. Who's asking?"

Immediately he brightened up. "Hello. I'm Ben Atkinson, " he said and extended his hand. "We're making a photo shoot of the supplemental collection of sporting clothes," he continued without waiting for me to shake it. "It's all for the online shop, so simple stuff. White background, a few poses." Tentatively I shook his hand. "Pretty fast rotation of models. Unfortunately one of them has called in sick. You have the right look, but more importantly the right build and size."

"Uhum," I answered, sensing where this was going. It was a Saturday morning, and I was on my way to meet up with some friends at Wayland's Deli.

"This is quite sudden, but we are on a tight deadline. If you're willing to model for us I'll give you twice the normal rate."

"Ok," I said, not waiting to hear what the normal rate was. I'm sure Stuart would not stop giving me grief about it for the rest of the year, but I would technically be a photo model which wouldn't be a negative in Sarah's eyes. Turned out that it would also be double my monthly earnings as well, so maybe I could shut Stuart up as well.

We entered the building, which apparently was an office space that had been taken over for the day for the shoot. There were racks of clothes everywhere, lots of people with iPads tracking what item was where, who should wear it, and in what conference room they should shoot it. It was bustling with activity. After some exchange of information with Ben, and signing papers, I was handed over to a conference room turned makeup and styling studio. Most of the furniture was stacked in one corner and the floor was covered by transparent plastic that had been rolled out. To one side was a table with lots of makeup tools and bottles and stuff I wouldn't know how to use, except maybe the hand mirror and the scissors, and even that I'm not confident with. A pair of strong LED lamps on stands lit a chair placed at the center of the plastic. 

"I'm Julia, pleased to meet you. So you are the last one," said the stylist, carefully surveying me and in particular my face and hair. "We're short on time, so we have to work quickly. Are you ok with a buzz cut and tight fade?" Not what I would have chosen, but it's starting to get warm outside and it's only hair. I'd be back to my current length after the summer. "Sure."

She seated me in the chair and began the work with a corded trimmer, and soon a flurry of detail work with smaller trimmers and some of her tools from the table. Probably took her about ten minutes for the haircut. Then some time with a straight razor blade and a tweezer to pluck and shave all over my face and then arms. I told her that this was all new to me, having literally just been picked from the street. She reassured me that there wasn't much to it. Just be no-nonsense about it. Take whatever the stylist decides, change clothes quickly, do the poses the photographer asks for, and repeat.

"All done," she said and handed me the hand mirror as if I had any say in this. I looked so different than just moments before. The hair was shorter than I've ever had it, with a razor sharp fringe line. The fade on the sides was basically just an inch tall from the head and down the temple, then skin tight down, and presumably the same around the back of the head as well. The total amount of hair I was left with could fit a shot glass. "If you go down the corridor to the break room there is a shower in the bathroom there. Ask Andy outside to let you in. Take a quick rinse to get rid of stray hairs, change into these, put your stuff in one of the plastic boxes there, and come back to me for a final touch-up." She handed me a pair of white briefs and white socks. I hesitated a bit, and she was quick to jump ahead of my thoughts. "Everyone around here are used to see gorgeous bodies without clothes. Act as if it is normal, because to us it is. You can't be self-conscious. Oh, and Andy is the only one with a key, so your valuables are safe." Another boy showed up at the door saying he needed a new application. I told Julia thanks and went to look for Andy.

Andy unlocked the door to the office lunch room for me and I did as Julia had told me. I stripped naked and put everyting, clothes, wallet, phone, keys, shoes, into one of the plastic boxes, wrote my name on it with a whiteboard marker and placed it next to all the other boxes. Eight boxes in total. I went into the bathroom, took a 90 seconds shower, and dried myself off with one of the towels from the pile. I put on the briefs and socks, had Julia apply her things to me, and within ten minutes I was dressed in Nike shoes, joggers, and a fleece hoodie, being ordered by a photographer who didn't have time to introduce himself to look left, turn around, put my hands in my pockets, pull up the hood, sit down on the floor, and on and on. Then out change, and back with the next item.

It was going non-stop since they were behind on my stuff, so I had barely time to talk to anyone. There wasn't any proper lunch break either, just a protein bar together with two of the other models, Mark and Andrew. At first they thought it was funny that I had just been snatched off the street for the shoot, but when I told them how much more money I got they were like "fuck you, go back to work". Well the break was over anyway, so I don't know how serious they were.

It continued with item after item, until I realized I was the only model left. The others had taken off without saying goodbye, not that we had any relation. People were moving things out of the office, and when I asked about the hurry they said there was a firm deadline when they had to be out so the cleaning crew could put everything back to a working office again. I could feel the pressure as it was my item changes that held up everyone. I swapped into a pair of MRKNTN underwear that probably was like half a size too small but decided to just power through with the shoot. As soon as the last photo had been taken, they started to dismantle the light rigs. As I walked back to the lunch room I could see that most of the clothes racks were gone. The makeup room was back to looking like a conference room. I couldn't find Andy anywhere though, and the lunch room with my stuff was still locked. I wanted my stuff for sure, but more importantly I wanted to get out of the underwear that kept squeezing and chafing. I couldn't go more than 30 seconds without having my hands down the joggers to adjust them.

Ben wasn't anywhere to be seen either. I asked one of the remaining people and he said they had all left, working on getting all the stuff back and preparing the "delivery pipeline" for the photos. Probably Andy had checked off everyone from his list, and it was printed before I was recruited. "Just keep the clothes you have on and you can come back here Monday and pick up your stuff," he said.

Fuck.

No point in hanging around any longer. Everyone wanted to leave as soon as possible, so I just left and headed towards the bus stop. It was getting late and with no phone on me I couldn't call home and say what was going on.

Fuck.

I didn't have anything to pay the bus fare with. I could perhaps go back to the office building and see if I could catch anyone exiting, use their phone, and call for someone to pick me up. But there was no telling if and when I would get hold of anyone. Just walking back there would make me miss the next bus, so that would set me back at least an hour. I could just as well ask someone else to use their phone. Or perhaps ask them to cover the bus fare.

That's when I saw them, a little bit further down the street, past the bus stop. Six boys huddled at the corner, talking and messing around as if no one else was around. One had a bike. All of them dressed in the kind of clothes I had spent all day modeling in, track suits, hoodies, trainers. All of them were smoking. I figured I'd have as good a chance with them as with anyone else now, looking the way I looked.

As I was getting closer one of them alerted the others and they had some kind of conversation about me. "Hello, excuse me. Could I borrow money for the bus fare from any of you?" There was a second of silence before a mixed snicker erupted, and one of them answered "No, bruv. I don't think so."

I don't know why, but for some reason I was mortified by how I had been dismissed. I could feel my face turning red, so I quickly turned away from them to make my way back to the bus stop, without any plan of what to do next.

"Oi, bruv!" I heard from behind me. Looking back at them I could see three boys had gotten up and were heading my way. "Callum's grafting down at the barber's for some extra quid and need someone to practice on. What if he can do some practice while we cover the fare and take you home safely? Fair, innit?"

"I barely have any hair," I said and let my hand touch my fresh skin fade, almost shocking myself with how radically different it felt.

"Won't be much of a nick then, bruv."

He was right. There wasn't much he could ruin. I had only a few millimeters of hair so in the worst case scenario I could shave completely and it would be back within the week.

"Good lad. A deal innit."

"Yes," I said, unsure if it was expected. The guy who had spoken and Callum flanked me while the third lad walked behind me, enveloping me with the scent of smoke and body spray. After a silent moment the guy spoke again, introducing himself as Iwan and the third guy as Rob, and asked where I lived. I gave him the bus stop, Hillside Garden North, about 18 minutes ride. Would have been busy during the week, but at weekends there wouldn't be many on the bus.

We didn't have to wait long for the bus to arrive, but instead of entering by the driver they all bunched up again with me in the middle and entered through the exit doors as a single unit. Then they quickly moved to the back of the bus and pushed me into a seat next to Callum, facing Iwan and Rob in the furthest back seat. I half expected the driver to say something over the speakers, but there was barely a delay, if any, before the bus was moving as if nothing was out of the ordinary. I looked at Iwan with perhaps a bit of surprise and he just shrugged as if to say "what did you expect? That the driver would confront us?"

Then he nodded at Callum next to me, backpack in his lap, who answered "Aye" and got up. He placed the bag on the seat and positioned himself right in front of me, one leg on either side of mine, his knees hitting the edge of the seat, and his left hand grabbing the rail behind me. It felt both imposing and intimate. He opened the backpack and rummaged around with his right hand until he found a small trimmer in a zip-lock bag.

He opened it with both hands and threw the plastic bag into the backpack. Then he looked out and waited for the bus to drive on straight and even road before he turned the trimmer on. Then slowly he moved it in an arched line from my temple and along the side of my head until he reached the neck. Then he studied for a few seconds before he made a few additional buzzes along the same line.

"Not bad, innit?" he said while shifting his body so Iwan and Rob could see. "Fucking mint, mate," Iwan answered.

Then he turned on the trimmer again and unexpectedly extended the line by buzzing my eyebrow for a few seconds. I hadn't even considered my eyebrows. Callum reached into his backpack again to put the trimmer in the zip-lock, but without moving his feet so his body pressed even closer to me. While I couldn't see much, I could certainly feel his body spray filling my nostrils while I felt my eyebrows with my fingers. I guess there would be a lot to explain to mother anyway, so this would just be yet another detail.

I could just see it for a fraction of a second. It looked like a small glue gun in off-white plastic. Then before I could realize what it was it was pressed against my ear, it made a snapping sound, and I felt a sharp pain. "What the!" I said, more in surprise than pain.

"18G piercing. Hurts more, heals slower, but much better," Callum offered, as if it was the type of piercing that was in question, not that he had done it at all. He reloaded the piercing gun and I struggled with what to do. Just take it like the first one? Why should I? But then one piercing was the real threshold. Once you pass that, two is if anything better than one. This would soon be over anyway.

He was just as quick with the second one as the first one. "These need to stay in 30 days, you hear me?" he said, still standing essentially on top of me. "Yes, I understand," I said with a sinking feeling of all the implications. He put the gun back into the bag and went searching for something again. Finally he pulled out some sort of pliers, then held my earlobe with one hand while doing something with the pliers with the other. "Making sure they don't fall off," he explained before sitting down again on his seat. I could see Iwan and Rob again, and booth looked pleased. Iwan looked absolutely chuffed. "Fucking proper, innit" he said and pat me hard on the shoulder. "Fucking proper."

After than Iwan opened up and started to ask me all kinds of questions, starting with my name, which I realized I hadn't given him when he presented everyone. I was soon giving the highlights of the day as a photo model until we arrived my stop. To my surprise everyone got off with me. "Said we would take you home safe." We continued to chat all the way home and it turned out me Iwan and Rob had the same taste in electronic music while Callum was more of a rock guy.

"Ok, this is my stop," I said once we reached my house. "Meet us Monday, same time and place," Iwan said. "What?" "You owe us £2 for the bus, bruv." "But..." "You going back on our deal?" "No, I'll come by." "And wear the same clothes. Underwear too." "No! I have classes." "You'll figure it out, bruv." Callum opened his backpack again and tossed something to Iwan. "And use this," he said and handed over a can of Lynx Jungle body spray. "What if I don't? What if I don't do any of that?" "Where you live isn't a secret, innit? See you Monday, bruv."

[kquil]

REMUS LUPIN | 13:53 — ONE NEGRONI

SUM : to help pay the bills and your tuition fee, you get a new job at an elite club where the tips are incredibly generous. you’ve met a majority of the clientele already but they don’t match the stranger who ordered a simple negroni

TAGS. : mafia au ; modern au ; muggle au ; mobster remus ; mafia boss remus ; bartender reader ; reader is a hard working sweetheart that must be protected! ; catching remus’ eye ; remus lowkey wishes he can be the one to do the protecting ; and maybe more ; for now, he’s a low key stalker ; but sexy… ; stalking is bad, don’t do it! ; this is just fiction! ; but hey! remus owns an elite club! wooooo! ; i don’t know how to feel about my interpretation of the marauders as mafia men/mobsters ; it’s growing on me… ; also, im casting peter pettigrew as Dane DeHan in this!

LENGTH : 1.5k

It wasn’t as if you were new to the job; you had previously worked some years as a bar tender for a pretty well-established club, it paid well and managed to help pay for your rent and utility bills for most of your higher education years. However, all the built up stress and sleepless nights finally caught up to you. And you found yourself repeating a year, meaning that you needed to pay for your own tuition this year atop all the other monthly bills and necessities you keep up with. Perhaps it was the universe telling you that you needed to stop and change the direction of your life — you needed to choose an easier path, a doable path. But you were stubborn and also quite the optimist. So you kept at it, determined to finish what you started and earn your degree. 

Yes, it was a let down but you were still breathing. Life just gets hard sometimes. 

Thankfully, your past experience and phenomenal recommendation letter from your previous manager earned you another bar tending job at a very elite club, where tips were more than generous, considering the clientele composed primarily of the privileged class, some with multiple businesses under their belts, some who were phenomenal investors and some living off their parents’ money. You didn’t care to look too much into it, you were there to work and you were going to work hard and honestly. 

The patrons surprisingly had very similar tastes and so, you fond yourself making the same types of drinks repeatedly. It made the job a lot easier and you were able to focus more on your delivery and interaction with customers, leading to more tips. Times were rough after having to accept defeat with your studies and repeating a year with your own funding but things were looking up. If you keep at it, you’ll make it out alive. 

Your only complaint was the dress code. Make up was advised with a bold red lip but must be kept simple. You felt like a showgirl of some kind, squeezed into a high collar, white dress that came down to your mid thigh and with a low-cut, open back. The sleeves aren’t as long as you would like but, at least, you were permitted to use black kitten heel court shoe pumps as opposed to stilettos — your only saving grace, along with the higher salary and generous tips. 

“Looks like we have a newbie working the bar,” Sirius points out, drawing all attention to your lively figure as you served drinks with a sweet smile and airy voice. A hum of curiosity vibrates through Remus’ chest and up to his lips at the sight of you, “certainly easy on the eyes, huh?” the tattooed, right-hand comments again as he looks towards the head of the table where Remus holds up his glass of Negroni. 

“Very… innocent— a sweet, pretty, little thing,” James comments on Remus’ other side, which Peter grunts at in agreement as he takes a sip of his whiskey-sour. 

“Looks like she doesn’t belong,” Peter nods before smirking and letting out a light laugh. The domino effect had James and Sirius laughing too as Remus smirks behind his glass before proceeding to down the rest of his drink. 

“Exactly your type, eh? Moony?” 

Sirius’ teasing comment is ignored. Instead, Remus calls for there server and orders another drink with an additional request that only confirms his smirking friend’s disregarded statement, “Have the new bartender personally deliver my drink for me as well,”

There was no higher authority that could dismiss the club owner’s personal request. 

It was a strange request but you steeled your nerves and asked your fellow bartender to minister your unattended station while you made quick work on the order. It wasn’t unusual to receive requests like this from an isolated table that had privacy curtains for convenience. However, it was usually for drinks that you could make a show out of like a Holy Water cocktail, a Phoenix cocktail and even a Dragon’s Blood cocktail — a performance that you liked partaking in for the flammable aspect. But this was a Negroni. A cocktail of equal parts gin, saccharine vermouth and bitter Italian Campari. It’s a very egalitarian drink that was enjoyed by everyone, men and women alike, simple but elegant and definitely didn’t require a performance. Despite the odd summons, you were eager to fulfil your curiosity for who the client may be. 

With a professional smile, you place refined mix in the middle of your circular tray with it’s classic orange garnish and set off to the table. The standby server, who made the order, saw your approach and quickly announced your arrival through the small front opening, momentarily disappearing into the shadow of the curtains. He reappears a moment later and pulls the heavy drapes fully apart, to reveal the guests from beneath the, once, opaque shadows. 

To say that you were stunned was an understatement. 

It was pure luck that you didn’t stutter in your stride and spill the cocktail prematurely. At the table was seated four men, all dressed in suits and ties that were in various states of disorder. Among their collection of suits, you could spot Armani and Tom Ford, however, you were sure that their unconventional styles were not the way those suits were intended to be worn. 

One man with long, midnight-black hair and paper-pale skin had an array of mismatching tattoos littering both arms, revealed to you by his lack of a suit jacket and rolled-up sleeves. Another wore cute circular glasses and a cheeky grin with a suit jacket but no button up shirt and his chiseled upper body on full display. The last was a dirty blonde with piercing eyes and a deceivingly boyish smile. He had his ankle propped up on his opposite knee and several buttons undone where a tie should have been fastened over, his sleeves also rolled up as his suit jacket lay beside him.

It was the man at the head of the table, however, who stole your attention. If you had to guess who ordered such a simple but elegant drink, it would have to be him. He had his suit jacket draped over his broad shoulders and also had several of his top buttons undone, revealing some faded scars marked across his toned chest. His neat brunette hair and kind brown eyes gave him a deceivingly gentle appearance but his close company revealed a duplicity that caught and tensed your nerves.

You ignored the creeping goosebumps that prickled your skin, down from your toes all the way up to your ears. 

Just do your job…

“Gentlemen,” you addressed kindly with a slight tilt of your head, which they acknowledged with their own hums of acknowledgement, their eyes lighting up in subtle surprise at your actions, “I have an order for a Negroni,” you raise your tray with the drink and scan the four for some indication as to who the order belonged to. 

“That would be for me,” just as you suspected, it was the brunette with the kindest eyes but also the most ominous air. His voice is a deep and smooth lullaby, patient with it’s seduction on your senses. It was a trap that you resisted but are so hopelessly tempted to fall into, “Thank you, sweetheart,” he meets your eyes as you lower the drink into his large, outstretched hand. You notice how his knuckles and fingers are littered with scars also, some fresh, some faded with time and some hidden behind luxurious rings. Nevertheless…

He’s beautiful 

She’s precious 

“Not a problem,” you reassure with a soft voice, “have a good evening,” with your circular tray pressed against your side, you offer him an innocent smile and dismiss the butterflies in your stomach urging you to linger, “gentlemen,” you acknowledge the remaining three once more before offering another sweet smile. Turning on your heel, you leave the group and ignore the stares drilling holes into the back of your head.

She doesn’t know… 

Once you were out of earshot, Remus turns to his closest friends and most trusted colleagues. They all share a look, one that conveys a unanimous thought. It isn’t long before their agreement manifests into knowing smiles and a ring of laughter shared between them.

“Don’t get greedy now, Moony,” Peter chimes in as Sirius throws his head back with a barking laugh. 

“That’s not gonna stop him Wormtail, you know that; she’s a rare one,”  

“So what’s the plan, bossman?” James asks with a raised brow as he brings his drink up to his lips.

Remus doesn’t answer right away, he simply requests that the curtain remain open so he can fix his fond gaze on you for the remainder of the evening. The group already knew what to do and sat at the edge of their seats, awaiting orders eagerly despite their slack shoulders and composed expressions. Only they were able to observe the shift in the air between them; it became charged as soon as you entered their circle and slowly started accelerating, parallel to the climbing affection in Remus’ eyes as he watches you smile at customers while making their drinks. 

He takes a singular sip of his Negroni, bitterly sweet with a citrus edge. 

Heaven in a glass. And made by an angel. 

“I want a background check and profile put together immediately,” Remus finally orders, “I want to know everything there is to know about her,”

A/N : i downloaded some fics and read some over the holidays and there some mafia/mobster aus and i couldn’t help but picture remus as a mob boss, i’m sure im not the only one to ever imagine this but goddamn! why is it so easy to imagine sweet, gentle, responsible remus like that?!

NAVI.

TAGLIST : @melinajenkins @aastonishment @until-i-found-you @corp0real @celestcies @lovelydoveval @inlovewithremusjohnlupin @calums-betch @futurecorps3 @hihihi1112 @simpingforthe80s @yrluvjane @chaosofmanyfandoms @storyofaromance @loving-and-dreaming @somewereinthegalaxi @ashreblogsficshere @cassandra-nerezza-black @stray-bi-kids @ttkttt @notasadgirlipromise @desikudisworld @volturissideslut @arilxup88 @rosalyn-s

[vampzity]

spidey senses | J.YH

"when nothing adds up i’ll be your number, you’re 106 and i’m 94." — 200, mark

—✫ pairing: spider-man! yunho x gn! reader

—✫ genre: ateez, drabble, spider-man au, fluff, jeong yunho

—✫ synopsis: you were always very close with yunho, but you never quite knew who he really was whenever he made excuses to leave or cancel plans with you. as close as you felt with yunho, you didn’t realize you were close with someone else in the process.

—✫ wc: 923

[warnings]: cursing, really no other warnings but that

—✫ a/n: i love spiderman. i needed a spidey yunho idea to be written so here we are ! mark’s new mv just urged my will to do it. not my favorite piece, but I really wanted to write it and keep it short! *not proofread*

“Where the heck is he?”

You sat on your bed, annoyed as you continued to check your phone. He should’ve been here by now, but of course, he was late as usual.

You and Yunho were supposed to go out to a new cafe that opened in town. It closed at eight and the plan was to leave at five, but when you had checked the time, it was now pushing 7:30.

It didn’t help that today was the day you were planning to admit your feelings to him, determined to take the weight that’s sat on top of your shoulders for so long. You two have been close for some time, so what could go wrong? There was a chance he had felt the same, no?

You sighed heavily, taking off your shoes and jacket as disappointment filled your heart. This was the 4th time this week he had been late, or even a “no-show,” and you were tired. Just as you were going to lay down, a tall man flew in through your window, wearing red and blue.

“What the fuck?!!” you yelled, throwing your shoe at the figure in your room.

The shoe flew at his head, earning a groan out of him as he grabbed the back in pain. Your eyes widened at his suit, realizing the similar spider webbed pattern layered across it.

Did Spider-man really just fly through your window?!

The man sighed heavily and began to turn to you., rubbing the back of his head softly as he held his mask in his other hand.

“Dude, you know I come in through your window all the time.. why would you hit me???”

Your eyes widened as you two stood face to face. Your face in utter shock as he came into view. Did he even realize his mask was off? Surely, right? Maybe he wasn’t the smartest superhero everyone made him out to be.

“Yunho?!” you spoke, your eyes practically popping out of your head as his own did with you.

He quickly looked down, seeing the mask scrunched in his hands. It was at this point that Yunho knew there was no going back, and now he had to come clean. What excuse could he possibly make to you? Especially in such a quick amount of time? It was inevitable.

“Shit.” he brought his free hand up to his face, shaking his head softly as he realized his stupidity. “Well.. uh, let me explain myself.”

You rolled your eyes, shifting to the side in bed as you made room for him to sit down. He took a seat, sighing as he tired to explain the ordeal to you; from how he was bit, to when. How he had gotten used to his powers and ultimately decided to use it for good. It also brought answers to the billions of questions you’d have over his whereabouts, as to why he was always so late to hang out with you or even why he ditched you at times.

You punched him in the arm, crossing your hands as you sat there in disbelief. Yunho looked at you with a shy smile, unsure of how you may take the news.

“You idiot. You should’ve told me.” you mumbled, holding onto his hand.

He shrugged and squeezed your hand softly. “I didn’t want you to worry about me. It’s a big responsibility, you know?”

You nodded, standing up as you pulled him with you. You took the mask from his hand, placing it over his eyes. His face turned red as he felt your hands rest in his, still unable to see where you were.

“I was still worried about your whereabouts, Yunho. I hope you can learn to trust me.”

You both exchanged a smile as you rested your hand against his cheek. Pulling his face to yours, you rested your lips on his softly. Your lips intertwined as his hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to his body. His lips were warm against yours, making your heart beat out of your chest.

You pulled away from him, keeping your eyes low as he pulled his mask up from his own. He smiled at you softly, his hand coming up to your chin. He lifted your head slowly to look at him, kissing you one more time before beginning to speak.

“I don’t think you understand how long I’ve waited to do that.” he chuckled softly, his cheeks as red as blood.

You blushed, feeling your heart rest as he calmed your nerves with his confession. The weight you once felt living on your shoulders, was now gone. He did feel the same, felt the exact same as you. Your bond was too strong, not even a mere superhero confession could break that apart. It only made you stronger, and you were grateful for that.

“Does this mean I’m your sidekick?” you smiled cheekly, a laugh escaping you as he rolled his eyes.

“Hmm… I’m not sure..”

Yunho wrapped his arm around your waist, placing his mask back on and bringing you toward the window. He opened it, bringing you both out onto the fire escape.

“How about we go for a ride and find out, hm?”

You looked up at him, your eyes lighting up. You wrapped your arms around his chest and neck, holding on tightly as he prepared to take off. He tilted his head at you, signaling to you that he was smiling under his mask.

“Alrighty spidey sidekick, hold on tight.”

taglist: @skzline @evidive @xoxkii @vrtualsins @sanslovesblog

@dvrktvnnel @scarfac3 @honeyhwaaa @sundaybossanova @kittykat-25

@losrpark @yyaurii @aestheticjoonie @roomsofangel @mingtinysworld

@minghaoslatina @rvereri

*comment to be added to the taglist!*

—divider creds to owner—

[daenysx]

hi love ! i know you did one kind of similar to this so don't worry about it if you don't want to do this request but could you maybe do something with a reader who wakes up annoyed with just james? like she doesn't even cry until later but she's just annoyed? i feel like he'd be so good at giving you space but still letting u know he was there for u :) once again no pressure at all lovie !

hi, angel, thank you for requesting! i hope you enjoy <3333

james potter x fem!reader

your head feels like it's full of cotton when you first open your eyes.

you don't like waking up feeling useless, like every bone of your body is ready to give up the second you leave your bed. funny thing with bad mornings is that you never know when you'll have them. they just come and ruin your day until it's at least the afternoon.

sitting on bed, you reach for your phone to get it from your nightstand. there's a piece of paper under the phone. you open it.

leaving for the training, angel, i'll be home before noon ♡

james likes drawing hearts around his name when he leaves a note for you. you smile a little no matter how terrible your head feels. it's almost half past 11. you force yourself to leave the bed.

the shower may help. you try so hard to shake off the anger you feel. summer mornings are not so easy to get through without a cold shower, you also like washing your hair and leaving it wet on your bare shoulders. you don't take long, after 10 minutes you go back to your room to get dressed in plain shorts and a small tank top.

you don't feel like eating or drinking a huge iced coffee which is basically your favorite every morning. waiting for james is better, you sit on the couch, watch water drops fall on your skin from your hair.

james opens the door silently, thinking you must be sleeping. you like calling him when you wake up when he's not home, it has become an easy habit. instead he sees you spread your legs on couch, you look exhausted, he doesn't know why. you look at him with widened eyes, no energy, no spark.

he takes off his shoes, leaves the grocery bags on the kitchen counter. he comes to your side, sitting on couch with a hand on your leg. "morning, angel." he says, kissing the side of your head. "slept well?"

you shrug. "not really." you tell him. his brows come together.

"are you tired?" he asks, rubbing his hand on your leg affectionately.

"a little." you say. you'd tell him what's wrong with you if you'd know it yourself. "how was training?"

"same as every time." he answers. "there are two new guys, i think coach wants them in the team."

"that's nice." you say silently. james's eyes have a pinch of worry in them.

"is everything alright, sweetheart?" he asks, gently. "can i get you anything? have you eaten breakfast?"

you don't know the answer of the first question. nothing's wrong actually. you feel like you can throw a tantrum for no reason, you also feel like you have no energy for it. you don't wanna ruin james's day, he was happy in training and he came home to an upset you. it doesn't feel fair. you wanna bury yourself to your pillow and scream until your lungs hurt.

"i just-" you start, not knowing the rest of the sentence. "i don't know, jamie, i just feel off today. please don't worry, i'm sure i'll feel better in a few hours."

it's hard for james to see you like this. like you have no will to do anything. you look like you can't even lift your finger, your eyes lack their usual spark. he doesn't push it, though. you'll come around when you're ready. his hand lingers on your leg.

"it's okay." he says. "i'll prepare something for lunch. come to me when you feel like eating, okay? or for coffee. for anything, i'll be there."

you nod. he leaves after giving you a perfect kiss on your forehead.

you can hear the sound of plates and forks from kitchen, james washes a few things, he cooks something simple for himself. he thinks of making you a plate of your favorite breakfast but he knows you won't eat it unless you want to. he's not gonna force you into eating or drinking something, a bad morning is a bad morning. he eats in the kitchen to give you some space. he cleans up the dishes, talks to remus on the phone with a silent voice, replies some texts as he drinks a cup of tea.

you rub your eyes with your fingers. your anger has been washed away by something different, kinda like an exhaustion, something that makes walking hard and talking harder. you manage to go to the kitchen. james looks at you with a soft pair of eyes.

"can you-" you start, tears clog your throat but you don't mean to cry over nothing. "can we cuddle, please?"

james stands up from his chair. "baby." he says, cooing. "of course we can. anything you want." he hugs you in the middle of the kitchen.

"i don't know what's wrong with me." you say. you hate how desperate you sound.

"nothing's wrong with you." james says. "it's okay to have a bad day."

"i don't want to feel like this, jamie." you tell him. "i feel annoyed for no reason and my head keeps pounding, and- i hate it."

"angel." he cups your cheeks to dry your tears. "look at me."

he patiently rubs two gentle thumbs on your tears.

"let me make you something to eat. you can have a painkiller after that, okay? and maybe a cup of coffee. and then we can cuddle all day in bed. you just gotta eat something first."

he makes you a toast after you agree. it's quick and delicious, you eat as much as you can with a glass of cold water. james kisses your head as he takes your plate. you decide you don't need a painkiller. you feel better after eating anyway, and even though you don't really like it, crying helped.

james takes you to bed. he opens the window for some fresh air before joining you.

"better?" he asks. you nod, settling down on bed next to him. he holds you closer, you put your head on his chest to listen his heartbeat.

james doesn't talk until you say something. it's not that he doesn't want to or that he doesn't have anything to talk about, he just feels a tenderness in the air. you don't close your eyes, not sleeping at all, just breathing softly against his chest.

he feels so affectionate towards you, it's like his heart will explode. it makes him more protective, more attentive, more anything to keep you safe and happy. he rubs a big hand on your back until your tight muscles feel a bit relaxed. you get closer to put your head on the crook of his neck.

"i'm okay." you say suddenly. "i'm sorry for worrying you."

"i'm not worried." james lies. you know. "i know you'll be okay."

he knows but it's not the same as seeing you okay, seeing you happy and content in his arms. you are in your head more when it's summer, the weight of not having as many routines as winter is a bit heavy on you some days. james rubs your arm, you wrap it around his waist. your hair smells amazing, he buries his nose against the scent and breathes deeply.

you think it's still nice, having time to spend on bed with james with the summer breeze on your legs. he falls asleep shortly after your generous neck kisses, he must be tired from the early training. you draw shapes on his skin, admire his pretty face. your love for james runs deeper than any kind of anger you could have, he has your heart in his hands and he takes good care of it.

you don't fall asleep, only watch his chest as he breathes, his curled lips and blushed cheeks from the warmth of the nap he's taking. you smile genuinely for the first time that day. a coffee doesn't sound so bad now. james likes waking up to the fresh coffee scent anyway.

[pasta-in-the-pudding]

HIIIIII :>

Can I please request Ben, Puppeteer, Masky, Liu, and Ej with a s/o that has a HUUUGE hello kitty obsession?? Like room is COVERED in hello kitty plushies and all that fun stuff

Summary: Ben, Puppeteer, Masky/Tim, Liu and Eyeless Jack whose s/o is obsessed with Hello Kitty (headcanons)

Genre: Fluff!!

Warnings: None!

A/n: IM SO OBSESSED WITH SANRIO MY FAVORITE CHARACTER IS POMPOMPURIN I HAVE THIS GAME ON MY PHONE CALLED HELLO KITTY FRIENDS AND I KID YOU NOT IM SO OBBSESSED WITH THAT GAME THAT WHEN I CLOSE MY EYES TO TRY AND SLEEP I SEE THAT STUPID FUCKING GAME WAHHHHH

Credits: Ben Drowned- Creepypasta, The Puppeteer- Creepypasta, Tim Wright/Masky- Marble Hornets, Homicidal Liu- Creepypasta, Eyeless Jack- Creepypasta, Divider- benkeibear, Pictures- Pinterest

Ben Drowned

Honestly he can't say anything because he's obsessed with Hatsune Miku

He claims its Ironic, but it very obviously isn't

But his obsession with Miku (and vocaloid in general), is NOTHING compared to yours

He loves it though, because it gives you a cute dynamic

Every time he sees anything sanrio related, he thinks of you

It doesn't even have to be Hello Kitty specifically, just any sanrio product

And of course, he HAS to get it for you!

You've gotten sodas, plushies, snacks, earbuds, bags, even wipes

Because of Ben, you have almost anything in a Hello Kitty styled packaging

He likes to "trade" obsessions if that makes sense

For example, you wear a vocaloid shirt and he wears a Hello Kitty shirt

Complimenting each other's interests makes him so happy idk

And he DEFINETLY has some form of Hello Kitty merch himself

Whether it be something that you don't like any more, something you just don't have room for, etc, he has SOMETHING

And it makes him so giddy to know that a little bit of you will always be with him no matter what

Jeff makes fun of him for wearing your old Hello Kitty backpack, but he doesn't care because it smells like you, and it carries everything he needs so perfectly <3

He lobes his hello kitty partner

God forbid you break up, because ANYTHING Sanrio related will send him into a meltdown (fucking weirdo)

The Puppeteer

He's a very obsessive lover, so anything you like, he likes

When he sees your Hello Kitty obsession he immediately begins his research

He will learn all Sanrio characters, all characters closely related Hello Kitty, any lore in the universe, official merch, etc

He will fr pull up dripped tf out in hello kitty merch

The shoes, the pants, the shirt, maybe even a hat

You will giggle and kiss his chin, asking what he's doing

And he will shyly ask if you like it teehee

Your obsession is now OUR obsession

Well, with him it's less obsessed with Hello Kitty itself, more so him obsessed with whatever he thinks will make you like him more

You will literally be cuddling or just hanging out and he'll quote hello kitty to impress you

He's trying his best ok, just kiss him and tell him he's doing good

Masky

Your obsession kind of scares him

Not like, in a "omg this is so unhealthy :(" way, because he literally couldn't care less what you're into

He just gets scared of all the DOLLS

Oh my lord the amount of hello kitty dolls you have freaks him out

It's something about how all of them are the exact same thing, just over and over again

The sheer amount of them combined with the similarities between the dolls just weirds him out and gives him a chill up his spine

Good luck getting him to come into your room

He will refuse to unless you're like, sick or something

Other than that, he will not tolerate it

And this is a brave guy! He doesn't typically get scared of dolls, but idk man hello kitty just ain't it

Despite all this, he still loves getting you gifts with Hello Kitty

He knows how much you like it, and just because it freaks HIM out doesn't mean he's gonna not allow you to enjoy it

He won't actively participate in wearing merch like the other guys

He's definetly more of a "hold your plush bag while you go to the bathroom" type guy

Sorry pookies :(

Homicidal Liu

He doesn't get quite as into it as other's on this list might

He's more of a "Oh well I'm happy you've found something that makes you happy :)"

If you asked him to do something like match outfits he'd accept though!

He loves getting to do things like that with you, little stuff but it makes you both happy

He gives all your plushies different names and personalities

Maybe if you ask him nice enough he'll knit them little clothes and scarves...

He also loves to use the plushies to get what he wants

For example, if he wants to go out with you and you say something along the lines of "but im so tireeed" he'll grab a Kitty plush and begin "talking" to it

"Do you hear this? They say they're too tired to go get yummy food with me" He'll lift the toy up to his ear, nodding as if it's whispering something to him before going "I know! I was thinking we could go to their favorite restaurant too! Such a shame"

You'll scoff and roll your eyes playfully, while he brings the toy to your face making obnoxious kissing noises as if the toy is kissing you

Once your laughter fit dies down, he'll ask if you really just wanna stay home or go out

He will happily accept whatever response you give

Eyeless Jack

He is a lot like Liu when it comes to your obsession

More so just a "Oh good for you :)" type guy

He loves to just show up with random things

For example, he will knock on your door before opening it, and silently waving around a little trinket he thought you'd like

He loves seeing your face light up as you rush to come get the gift and kiss him over and over

It makes him feel extra giddy when he "earns" kisses

So expect a lot of gifts

And if you don't give him a kiss one time, he will pout until you do kiss him

grrr give that boy a smooch he loves them

[reversedumbrella]

teruki week 2024: happy birthday teruki

image description:

[ID: a five page comic for teruki week day 7: birthday. the first 3 pages happen inside a clothing shop's dressing room, where teru is trying multiple outfits while out of view mob comments on them. the first two outfits were inspired by teruki week day 1: fire/electricity. on the first fit, teru wears a top with a flame on it and fluffy long sleeves colored orange and yellow. his pants have five sections, each with flame designs. one red, one orange, one green, one blue and one purple. teru is wearing flipflops. mob comments "colorful." on the second fit, teru wears a green long sleeve shirt, a vest made out of fake lightning bolts, pants made out red, blue and black electric cables and boots. mob comments "zappy."

mob sits on a benchon the dressing room, right by him his flip phone is ringing. mob says "those look really good. anything else, Hanazawa". out of viwe teru replies "PLENTY! and with this years birthday money I might be able to take it all home!"

the second two outfits were inspired by teruki week day 2: school/festival. on the first fit teru is wearing a torn version of his school uniform. he smiles while rocking his head back and forth. mob comments "rock n' roll". on the second fit teru wears viana do Castelo's typical women clothing, nowadays just worn for an anual parade. red cloth on his head, large golden earings and necklaces. red shawl over a white shirl. large red apron over a black skirt. white socks and black shoes. mob comments "wow."

the third two outfits were inspired by teruki week day 3: star/copy. on the first fit teru wears a sparkly five point star around his head, star sunglasses, a pink top, jeans with two big sparkly stars over each knee and a lot of small stars all over, pink high heels. he wears bracelets similar to his head apparatus. mob comments "shinny." on the second fit there are two teru's each wearing outfits only differing in color, with only the shorts being the same. a top over a t-shirt over a long-sleeve shirt. shorts over leggings and sneakers. mob comments "maybe the shorts on the left…"

mob is sitting on the dressing room bench. his phone is either still ringing or ringing again. up to interpretation.

the fourth two outfits were inspired by teruki week day 4: official art/omake. the first fit comes from official art. purple and blue cap, green jacket over a white shirt with a lemon pattern. red shorts over greyscale camouflage leggings. green and yellow sneakers. none of these colors go well together. mob comments "fun." on the second fit teru is wearing a beach outfit. shirtless with blue beach shorts and green sandals. he has colorful necklaces and bracelets. with his right he's grabbing abucket with a shovel inside. on his head he's balancing a beach ball wearing heart sunglasses. mob comments "careful"

the fifth two outfits were inspired by teruki week day 5: hair/trauma. in the first fit teru is wearing a crazy wig that covers his upperbody and arms. it has four ponytails and is covered in braids. it also gives him a large moustache. he's wearing red leggings and green shoes. mob comments "hairy". the second fit is a brocolli and boots. both meet at his calves. his arms are free but his hands have smaller brocolli over them. this is the only fit mob doesn't comment on.

mob is sitting on the bench when teruki grabs him while saying "C'MON". mob replies "huh?!" and teru answers "you didn't really though i was buying just for me?!"

the last outfit was inspired by teruki week day 6: protagonist/rival. mob is the one wearing it. mob's outfit is a clash of colors and patterns. sweater with a star design around the neck. the neck is red, the star is orange and the rest of the sweater is yellow ith green stripes and dots. pink bell bottoms with bright pink stars. teru is showering mob in compliments. he drowns himself in dread thinking "i should have known kageyama-kun would have looked amazing regardless of what he wears. those clothes are too bold even for me but he dawns the clothes i picked with such ease. i have lost again. he is my rival even in fashion sense. there is no way i could have ever won against him…"

the next two apges are the aftermath of the shopping spree. mob and teru laugh and walk with multiple bags, teru carrying two and mob carrying the rest on his arms. happy, teru looks up and then at mob. he says "thank you for getting some time to spend on my birthday with me. i know you have a busy life". mob blushes and turns away saying " no problem. i like spending time with you…" mob phone rings again. teru points at it and says: "there goes your phone again". mob makes all his left arm bag levitate and uses it to open the phone. mob clarifies "just master reigen. there'sa complicated client . he keeps texting in case i need to go there" out of view teru comments "it's nice he calls in advance" to wich mob throws a side-eye. mob looks surprised at his phone, grabs teru and screams "we have to go!!" mob and teru run with the bags floating around them. teru goes up the satirs to reigen's office. out of view mob says "prepare for anything!" teru grabs the door handle and opens the door. inside reigen, serizawa, tome, ritsu and the awakening lab kids scream "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!" reigen is holding a cake with 15 candles. end ID]

[planetkiimchi]

the first drops of rain | k.mg

summary — mingyu's your first love. your first date with him could be described as fairytale like, at least until it begins raining. even then, maybe the rain is a paid actor, teaching you to slow down in your fast-paced student life.

featuring: mingyu x gn!reader, highschool au

word count: 2729 words

a/n: first seventeen work! kinda thought my first svt work would be seokmin or minghao but HAHA we’re here instead with a mingyu work. it’s based off a very precious memory of mine, and i felt like mingyu’s personality was the most similar to the guy i went out with <3

mingyu: we’re meeting at the start of the trail at 9, right?

You react to his message with a thumbs up, pulling up your shoes and glancing outside. The start of the trail is only a few hundred metres away from your house, so you’re not in a rush.

Mingyu asked you out on this date a few months ago, but you were overseas during the winter break, and weren’t able to go out with him. After a few months of discussing where to go, you finally settled on going cycling with him.

The sun rose quite a while ago, and the temperature is rather warm, but you figure that it’ll all be fine.

You check the time again and head downstairs, cycling over to the subway station to meet Mingyu.

You’re a few minutes late, so you expect to see Mingyu waiting there when you arrive, an apology already on the tip of your tongue, but you’re surprised when he’s not.

In fact, you have to wait another ten minutes before he finally arrives, a little out of breath and completely lost, without a bicycle. He smiles sheepishly at you, tucking his hands into his pockets.

He mumbles a “sorry”, curly hair falling in his eyes as he looks earnestly at you, shoulders raised in his nervousness.

Your annoyance at his tardiness dissipates once you see him in this state, genuinely apologetic and well-meaning. You let a soft sigh escape your lips. It’s okay.

Mingyu raises his phone and hesitantly says he needs to pick up his bike.

You’re about to reply when an old lady comes up to you, one hand clutching her grocery stroller. She politely asks if you know where the Flower Market is?

You nod. It’s right next to your apartment block, and you often go there to buy groceries yourself. You point the lady in the direction of the market, turning back to Mingyu.

Once again, before you can speak, Mingyu jerks his head at the stairs that the old lady has to climb up to get out of the subway station and onto the pavement. She lifts up the grocery stroller, and you rush to help her with it.

She smiles at you. Thank you.

You smile back. No problem.

Tilting your head towards the stairs, you beckon Mingyu to follow. The bicycles are located at the lowest level of the apartment block directly opposite yours, so you’re heading in the same direction as the lady anyway.

Once you’ve helped the old lady get her stroller up to the top of the stairs, you wave goodbye to her, prepared to head back down the flight of stairs to get your bicycle.

Fortunately for you, you don’t have to. Mingyu holds your bicycle in his hands, setting it down at the top of the stairs, and your heart warms, just a little.

It takes a longer time to figure out how the bike sharing system works than you thought it would. Mingyu scans the QR code on the back of the bicycle, frowning as he navigates the app, trying to figure out how the payment works. You stand to the side, holding on to your bicycle’s handlebars, watching his eyebrows knit themselves into a knot, before the wrinkles in his forehead slowly iron out when he finally gets the app to work.

All set? you ask.

Mingyu nods. All set.

You climb onto your bicycle, eager to head off, and Mingyu follows behind.

With the sun beating down on your backs, the two of you start off on the trail, figuring out a pace that works for both of you. You haven’t cycled in a long time, and you can’t go too slow, or you’ll be too unsteady for both of you to ride side-by-side on the narrow path.

The greenery on both sides of the trail helps to keep the temperature down, and you’re grateful for the shade it provides in the heat of summer. Next to you, Mingyu asks how school has been. You reply with one of those blasé “school is good” type of answers, but he doesn’t accept that.

Mingyu keeps prodding.

And, with your feet pedalling hard underneath you and the glare of the blue sky overhead, you find yourself opening up.

It’s started drizzling slightly when you reach the bicycle racks, so you chain your bicycles up and head to the nearby subway station to seek shelter. While you’re standing there, you ask Mingyu where he wants to go.

Originally, you wanted to go to watch a movie, but since the date was so impromptu, you didn’t check the movie timings out beforehand, so now you realise that none of the timings are convenient for you.

It’s fine, Mingyu insists. He’ll figure something out.

It doesn’t take long before he’s dragging you down another path you didn’t notice earlier, one that leads to a train station that’s no longer in use. Two carriages of the trains are left on the tracks as a memorial to the old train station, and despite the red tape covering the doors, Mingyu climbs up into the carriage.

You’re standing on the edges of the train tracks, watching him grin at you from inside. He leaps from the seat with a yelp, almost knocking his head, and he quickly exits the carriage.

What’s wrong? you ask.

He lifts his hand to show you that the seat was wet.

You laugh whole-heartedly and he pouts, but the joy in his eyes betrays him. His poorly-concealed excitement only grows when he looks ahead to see a bridge, breaking out into a run towards it.

You attempt to follow him, still balancing on the edges of the train tracks, quickly giving up when he doesn’t show any signs of waiting for you.

He turns around at the start of the bridge, and you grin at him as you step up onto the train tracks. He steps onto the edge next to yours, your feet moving in sync along those parallel metal lines drawn across the wooden tiles, his arms waving wildly as he fails to keep his balance.

Mingyu shakes his head out when he’s fallen three times, running his hand through his hair, glancing at you with the widest smile you’ve ever seen.

Your sunshine. That’s what he is, walking alongside you as you tread across the train tracks, hands carefully tucked into his pockets, watching your every step.

He speeds up when you hop off the tracks, and you follow him into a neighbourhood with two-story houses. Plants line the sidewalks, with overgrown creepers crawling up the walls and trees overhead shading you from the sun.

He points at the sign and tells you he came here once before, after his mother scolded him. It’s dangerously close to his home, a place that contains memories you can’t be a part of, a place you’re not sure you’re ready to intrude into.

You do anyway.

Mingyu leads you to the playground he’s only been to once before, when he was running away from his mother, and you pass by the empty basketball court.

You love basketball, you tell him, your steps slowing down. He whirls on his heel, looking up at the hoops, shading his eyes from the sun with his hand. Really?

Really, you say. You tell him how you used to play basketball during your half-hour long recess in elementary school instead of eating. Even though you were really bad and only played with a group of 5-6 other friends, it was still fun.

He understands.

You teach him how to climb onto the roof of the playground, your hands and feet making holds out of the railings and slides. You show him a view of the world that you loved as a kid, a view that makes you feel like you’re on top of the world. Like you’re unbeatable, invincible, and that the moment will last forever.

Slithering off the roof, you discreetly pull out your phone, but Mingyu spots you quickly enough. Don't film me, he pouts, eyebrows in a knot as his foot staggers around for a foothold.

You laugh and keep your camera pointed at him.

He hops down—ungracefully, you’d like to add; you think you were pretty graceful when jumping down yourself—and beckons you over with his hand.

Mingyu leads you to a sheltered area where the playground floor and gravel gives way to grass and soil, the trees overhead casting so much shade you get the impression that you’re in a rainforest. You can barely see past the crowns of the trees to the sky, which you’re sure is a shade of blue-grey. You can tell that it’s not raining, or the playground would be getting wet, but it isn’t quite sunny yet either.

The creak of a red swing brings your attention back to Mingyu. He smiles at you in warm invitation, and you take it, stepping up onto the swing. Your legs are on the left of his, your knees a fist’s width away from his. Opposite you, Mingyu lifts his eyes to yours and begins to speak.

How’s school, how’s life, how’s that toxic friend group in your dance club? he asks.

Stressful, interesting, shitty as ever, you reply.

He asks things like why, tell me more, is that leadership position working out for you?

You reply with much longer answers than you thought you would. The words flow from you like air leaking from a balloon with a hole. There’s so much pent-up frustration, bottled-up confusion, anxiety, envy, and even sadness you didn’t notice you were suppressing. They find their way out of your mouth in words you're surprised are coherent enough for him to understand, but somehow he manages it.

You’re not the only one telling stories, though. You ask Mingyu questions too, stuff like how’s being drama club president, do you like your juniors, what do you want to do at university?

And he, too, replies with amazing, I love them, I don't know but I’d like to be a counsellor someday.

And you learn.

From his smiles and nervous fidgeting and “um”s, you learn that he’s nervous. From the way he leans forward to talk to you and nods when you speak, you learn that his interest in you is genuine. From the tone of his voice and the smile in his eyes, you learn about his habits of joy and excitement. You pick apart his every move to learn something from it, absorbing a little more knowledge about him each time.

An hour or two passes. As it starts to drizzle again and lunch hour approaches, Mingyu gets up from the swing, not forgetting to hold it while you step off, and goes to the bench to get his tote bag before his things are drenched in the rain.

With a hand above your heads shielding you from the drizzle, the two of you half run-half walk to the mall nearby for lunch, raucous laughter echoing in your ears.

Mingyu offers to pay for your lunch thrice, and you refuse each time, reluctant to let him take money out of his allowance to pay for your meal. He insists you should let him pay for it, telling you that his father will give him more money. Still, you decline.

When he goes to visit the restroom, you quickly take your chance to buy your food before he gets back.

You take a seat successfully and wait for him to return, and he does—not without him trying to slide the bill into your bag first. After a while, he finally gives in, and the two of you settle down for lunch.

Lunch ends at around the same time the sky clears, and the two of you are rushing to climb onto your bicycles and leave before the rain starts up again. The weather has been unpredictable that morning, and you’re unwilling to take your chances. Instead of lingering around the mall, you’re unlocking your bicycle, fiddling with the stubborn lock, and Mingyu waits patiently beside you.

All set? he asks for the second time that day.

You reply the same way, All set.

Then you’re off, legs pedalling furiously, your balance miles better when you’re moving fast. In the morning, you had to keep swerving to avoid knocking into Mingyu at the slow pace you were going, but now you’re just trying to get home before it rains again. Your curfew is pretty early, and if you dally any longer, you’re definitely going to get an earful when you’re home.

Mingyu easily keeps pace with you, following your lead. From time to time, he’ll catch up and ride beside you for a stretch, and then you’ll pedal faster and he’ll fall behind again.

You feel the drizzle beginning when you ring your bell, bypassing yet another jogger on the trail. Cursing, you pick up speed, and Mingyu doesn’t question you as he follows behind.

The rain grows heavier more quickly than you’d expected, and soon there’s a steady stream of water raining down. You wipe futilely at your forehead from time to time, glasses sprayed with raindrops, and Mingyu calls out after you, laughing.

I’m not supposed to cycle in the rain, you tell him. My mum is going to kill me!

He seems to get it, but when you seek shelter under an overhead bridge to wipe your face with the remaining dry part of your T-shirt, he’s laughing at you.

You roll your eyes and point out the bits of water on his face, but he shrugs. You’re going to be cycling through the rain again anyway, so he doesn’t see the need to dry his face.

You clench your jaw, resolved to get home as soon as possible. The two of you climb back onto the bicycle, and start cycling home.

As if trying to deliberately annoy you, the downpour only gets heavier on your way home. It keeps coming down, and you fight to keep your balance and not skid on the watery path. You’re forced to slow down a little, your legs no longer pedalling as fast.

Your anxious heart begins to slow, and Mingyu's calm, sure voice carries over to you, despite the rain falling steadily around you. The sun is still high in the sky, and you wonder if there'll be a rainbow. That would be befitting for Mingyu, you think.

The whole way back, your mind is occupied by Mingyu's questions, his curiosity warming your heart. He genuinely cares about you, and this care distracts you from your fear of reaching home late. All thoughts of what your mother will say go out the window, until he's returned his bicycle and you've parked yours near the subway station, heading to the toilet to change into a new, dry shirt.

Mingyu didn't think to bring change, so he waits for you outside. He offers to help carry your bag, but you insist you can do it yourself. Just the thought that he's there, waiting outside, comforts you.

The two of you walk alongside each other on the way back to your home. You won't stop him from walking you home, especially not when you enjoy his company so much. He mentions something about his future family and you stiffen, afraid that he's jumping the gun. Your commitment issues start to resurface, your mind whirring as your heart jumps into panic mode, but you force yourself to take a few deep breaths and laugh.

He seems too happy to notice how forced your laugh is. Instead, he's asking for your mother's name, repeating it the whole way to make sure he's got it right.

Mrs? he asks.

Aunty, you correct.

Aunty, he repeats, and you nod your head. He asks for your father's, too, and he's still mumbling their names when you come up to the door. You ring the doorbell, and your mother comes to open the door, greeting Mingyu with a warm smile and a hearty welcome.

Come on in, she says. Mingyu shakes his head bashfully.

I've got to be going, he says. See you, Aunty.

You step into the house and wave at him until he's out of sight, your mother watching his retreating figure with you.

He seems like a nice boy, she says.

Oh, he is.

[acewithapaintbrush]

A gift for @emthimofnight who's Sonadow fankid Stellar has stolen my heart. Inspired by this comic and my firm believe that Sonic is a little shit who would definitely hold something like that over Shadows head forever

🦔🦔🦔🦔🦔🦔🦔🦔🦔🦔🦔🦔

“Should I… leave?”

Stellar jerks her head around and stops rummaging through the cupboards. She doubts she'll find the shoes she is looking for anyway. They had grown a bit tight the last time she'd worn them and her Papa had given her a suspicious side eye when she'd still refused to get rid of them. 

He hates clutter. Says her Dad is messy enough for all three of them. 

And anyway! The shoes are pretty much immediately forgotten the moment her friend's words reach Stellar’s ears. 

“Why?” she asks. “I thought we'd spent the day together?”

Camellia only spares her a quick glance before she looks away again. She is wringing her hands the way she does when she is nervous about something. Stellar wonders what could have caused that and follows her gaze. She tilts her head with a frown. All she can see are her parents being… well. Her parents. 

“I mean,” Cam gestures helplessly at the other couple, keeping her voice low. “This is obviously a bad time.”

Stellar joins her side and keeps looking between her friend and her parents. She has no clue what has gotten into Cam. 

Across the room her Dad crosses his arms behind his head and taps one foot up and down. His grin is playful, much like Stellar’s own when she is in the mood to tease but his voice has an edge to it. 

“You know I'm right, Shads! Just admit it!”

Her Papa scoffs and crosses his arms in front of his chest, a perfect imperfect mirror of his partner. Sometimes Stellar marvels at the fact that two hedgehogs can be so similar and so different at the same time. 

“You? Being right? Haven't seen any pigs fly lately.”

“Oh. That comeback was almost witty. Have you been practicing?”

Ah. They are arguing. Again. Or maybe still? She vaguely remembers a friendly conversation over breakfast about an old mission or something slowly turning into a heated debate about who took down more Badniks. Are they still on about that? 

She sighs. Seems like it's going to be one of those days, huh? Stellar ignores her parents and smirks at her flustered friend. She is so uptight sometimes. Kinda cute. 

“They are just squabbling. Don't tell me your parents never do that.”

Cam blinks, surprised, before she sniffs a little, nose in the air and all. “My parents never argue. Certainly not in front of guests.”

“Yeah, sure. The hedgehog with the giant hammer and temper issues and the literal cat with fire powers never argue.” Before Camellia can swipe at her arm Stellar continues “And anyway, you are not a guest, you are practically family.”

Her friend's face is suddenly as red as a tomato and she turns away to delicately cough into her hand. Stellar raises an eyebrow. Cam is acting super weird today. 

Her parents have kept arguing meanwhile. It's pretty much just white noise to their daughter after all these years. Stellar tunes back in just in time to hear Papa insult Dad’s memory which has obviously suffered from too many hits during fights. 

And Stellar knows that glint that enters her Dad's eyes, the way his smirk grows deceptively soft. She can do nothing but groan and slap a hand against her forehead as the blue hedgehog sighs and saunters over to the mantelpiece. She has seen this song and dance one too many times to think she can stop what's coming next. 

He picks up one of her baby pictures and presses it against his chest. “Maybe you are right. Maybe my memory isn't as good as it used to be.”

Stellar is as always reluctantly impressed with the way her Dad is able to put so much emotion into utter bullshit. He sounds like he is on the verge of crying and Stella can hear Cam gasp softly in dismay.

Maybe they should have left after all. 

“The memories begin to fade,” he laments and are those tears in the corners of his eyes? Ugh. “But you know what memory will never fade? My most precious one?”

Papa grits his teeth. She thinks it might take all his strength to not jump across the room and do something he might (a very slight might) regret. 

“How Stellar called me Dada first.”

It's a favorite story of his and he pulls it out every time Papa annoys him or he feels like he is losing an argument. 

And her Papa is smart and strong and level headed and cool. But he is also super bad at hiding how much that ‘betrayal’ still eats at him. 

“You are never letting this go, are you? You are pathetic!”

“Pot meet kettle. And why should I? One of her precious first milestones and it was all for moi!”

“I taught her how to walk.”

“And I taught her how to ride a bicycle, which is even more difficult.”

“I taught her how to swim, something you actually need for survival.”

“Oh yeah, if you call throwing her into the deep end and telling her ‘to figure it out’ teaching.”

“That's not how it happened!” Papa turns to Stellar proving once and for all that both are aware of their audience and don't care. They probably enjoy embarrassing her in front of her friend, the sadists. “That didn't happen!” 

She rolls her eyes. “I know, Papa.”

“Oh right!” Dad cuts in, outraged. “That was me! Your beloved husband!” 

“We are not married.”

“For good reason!”

Stellar does her best to ignore the two of them. Camellia still looks bewildered but there is a reluctant smile blossoming on her face, as if she can't help but be amused despite the awkwardness. 

“Now I know where you get it from.”

Stellar gasps and clutches her chest. “How dare you!” She pauses and her pretend outrage turns a bit more genuine. “Wait! What do you mean? Get what?”

Cam has the audacity to snicker at her and it is not a beautiful sound to Stellar’s ears, nope, not at all! “Oh. You know.”

She doesn't. She totally doesn't. 

She is about to demand some answers when the expression on Cam’s face stops her cold. She turns back to her parents and… oh no. 

Why is she even surprised anymore?

Papa has crossed the distance and has the back of Dad's neck in a tight grip. He is growling and flashing his teeth. 

“I think it's time for you to shut your mouth.”

Dad just leers and leans closer, pressing his chest against the other hedgehog, tangling his hand in black and red quills. 

“Why don't you make me?”

Stellar grabs Camellia’s hand and pulls her out of the room as fast as she can. 

“Oh-Kay. That's our cue to go. Go go go! Don't look back!”

“Wait what? Why? Shouldn't we stop them? What if they hurt-?”

“Nope! You do not want to get between them right now.” She shudders and quickens her steps. “Trust me!”

There is the sound of a muffled crash behind her, like two bodies falling to the floor, her Papa saying something triumphant, her Dad laughing. 

Stellar loves her parents. But God! They can be so embarrassing!

**********

They are the worst, I love them! This was supposed to be really short and grew into this... Hope you like it❤️

[luveline]

Hello! Can I request cornflower blue with Aaron, where he's just really into chubby!reader and she's so sweet to him and acts kind of similar to bombshell!reader, but is surprised and ecstatic when she finally notices that he's been flirting back?

tysm♡

You walk into Hotch's office feeling pretty and ridiculous. You know you look cute today, hair done pristine, skin dewy, your outfit one that accentuates the slopes of you (and this is all without mentioning the frankly gorgeous pair of shoes you're wearing). 

"Hello," you say. Something about Hotch makes you feel prettier. You couldn't put your finger on it, maybe it's the way he doesn't seem bemused at your flirting ('cos, oh, there's the flirty fat girl, how funny! like being sweet on people is weird when you do it). "How are you today, handsome?" 

"I'm good," he says, with a real, authentic, sticker of approval smile. "How are you?" 

"Better now I'm seeing you," you say, neatening the edges of your papers on his desk before offering them to a big hand. 

"I could say the same thing," he murmurs, looking down at the papers you've passed him with that boss look about him. He has to check your paperwork before it's submitted, of course, and this batch is a little late, so that's probably why he's happy to see you.

"Charmer. Do you need my help with anything while I'm here? I'm free." 

"You, free?" he says, still looking at the papers, one held above the pile, grabbing for a pen blindly. "In what world?" 

"This one, if you can believe it! Hotch, you understand me like nobody else does." You put on a saccharine, movie star tone, silky and smooth as you sit in the slippery leather chair in front of his desk. Elbows on the desk, you place your chin in your hand and watch him correct things you've written with a dreamy expression that isn't even really fake.

You quite like turning Hotch's innocuous comments into flirtation, if only to see his smile, but today the smile seems different. Almost like he knows something you don't know. You press your pinky finger over your lips and try to work it out. 

… Is Hotch flirting back? There's nothing to do but test it. 

"How do you make paperwork look good?" you ask. And it's important to note that you mean what you say, even if your compliments are said in a teasing, sunny manner. "Is there anything you can't do?" 

"Careful," he says, turning a page. Well, maybe he isn't flirting– "You might get something you aren't looking for." 

Your heart is a bat out of hell, leaping from your chest. "I'm always looking for something as long as you're the one giving it, Hotch... I've been thinking I'd quite like a new moniker, if you're up to it." 

He places the paperwork down into a tidy tray and leans back just a touch in his chair (what the fuck). "What would you have me call you?" he asks quietly. 

"Any Sweetheart will do." Is this real? Is he really giving it back to you? "Puppy love, angel, valentine. You could take your pick."

"Why don't you choose one for me?" 

You stand up from your chair and shake your head at him, fizzy energy with nowhere to go. "Handsome, you're in a mood. I'm going to do a lap, okay? Before I combust. Think you can get this," —you gesture to his chest in a big circle— "under wraps, or shall I start picking out colours for our engagement party invitations?" you ask. 

Hotch laughs and opens one of his desk drawers. You consider the joking over, and while you're disappointed, you're not surprised. That is, until he says, "I like eggshell white over cream, but I'm sure you'll make the right decision, angel."