#AND I'M NOT JOKING THAT'S WHAT THE MARKER SAYS

[thatonepikminperson]

Mimic Wraith (Mixed Wraith AU)

The Mimic Wraith is one of the oldest Wraiths on the planet, being born as the first successful Wraith ever made. There is only one still alive at the current moment. It takes the form of a Plasma, but it’s much fatter, and instead of being gold, it’s a human flesh color. It also has FIVE holes instead of one, with one being located on each arm and leg, and the final hole being located on its chest. It also has a black top hat, which doubles as its core.

The Mimic Wraith has a very limited, yet very powerful ability, and that is massive hallucinations! Yeah, so upon being seen by a creature, the Mimic Wraith will become whatever that creature finds the most sexually attractive. This either allows the Mimic Wraith to get close and kill the creature, or just talk with them without having to resort to violence, as the only Mimic Wraith alive currently doesn’t like to fight at all. Oh and it’s power will 100% fail if the creature is asexual. And if it's used on a Wraith, it has a failure rate of around 40%. If a Wraith gets the Mimic Wraith out of it's vision entirely, it gets to reroll the odds of the power working. (Like if a Wraith isn't affected, and it looks away and then back, it has a 60% chance for the Mimic Wraith's power to work on it, even if it didn't before.)

This Wraith is not affected by the Lumiknoll.

So, the Mimic Wraith is like, the only decent Wraith in the entire family, and I'm not joking. They're the only one who actively punished Ref and took care of Pom like a normal person. They care for the kid, and most times, they're far too busy to stop Ref from hitting or hurting the kid. When they do catch her, they do punish her, most often forcing her into her own mirror for hours at a time (She hates that so much), but Ref never learns. They're a polite dude, and just want the best for every one of his friends.

Oh yeah, and the Ancient Sirehound is his dog. Its name is Brubark. And Hero’s Hodeaway is Dave and Brubark’s home. Dave keeps up the houses good appearance for Brubark.

[alexanderwales]

My son has been having some behavioral issues, so we've been doing arduous consultations and screeners and questionnaires to try to get some kind of guidance, which has been very frustrating. Everyone in the broad field of child psychology has said either "have you talked about autism" or "have you talked about ADHD", and sometimes both, because they're comorbid. But in order to get an actual diagnosis, you need to find the right people who are qualified to actually make a determination.

So a few days ago, this culminated in us finally talking to the guy who had the answers, at least according to modern child psychology, and he said that no, there's not really a basis for a clinical diagnosis of either autism or ADHD. There are still the behavioral issues, which are most of the reason we went for testing (along with some inattention, fidgetyness, sensory issues, and other things that are sometimes markers), but that's apparently something to work on with therapy and maybe will just go away as he gets older and matures.

But the other thing that the guy with the answers had to say was that maybe a lot of this can be explained by really high test scores in the cognitive stuff. We knew he was a smart kid, but the guy with the answers said that our son is three standard deviations above normal on all the cognitive tests, including an IQ test that I didn't know was a part of it, and that this is perhaps why he's so bored at school and difficult to keep engaged.

I think that's maybe part of the answer, but not the whole thing. I've been trying to prepare this child to not have gifted kid syndrome his whole life, trying to make sure he doesn't just breeze through everything and then crumble when he faces a challenge because he doesn't know what to do when something is actually tough. It doesn't matter how smart you are if you don't put in the work, if you can't overcome obstacles, if you coast through life. Those lessons do not seem to have sunk in at all, so I don't know.

But as we're getting ready to leave, my wife came in with her particular brand of humor.

Wife: So you're saying it's not too late to install some lead pipes in the house, right? That might be the solution to all our problems.

To his credit, the guy with the answers laughed, and then said, "yeah, or maybe asbestos".

Later, in the car:

Wife: Asbestos doesn't cause lower IQ. Me: Yeah, I know. Wife: I should have said something. Me: That would have been very awkward. Wife: Maybe he would have appreciated the correction. Me: I really don't think he would have. Wife: But you noticed too, right? My joke about lead was good, and his follow up about asbestos was bad. Me: My very first thought was "I hope she doesn't say something about this". Wife: You love me. Me: I do, but sometimes when we're talking to people together, I'm very aware of what you're going to say. Wife: It's not too late. I could message him. Me: I know you're joking, but please please don't. Wife: I wouldn't. Me: You wouldn't, unless it was funny. Wife: Yeah, and it would be hilarious, so ...

We at least know where the boy gets his tendency for pedantry from.

[hiddenreamers]

I was in your music video - f1 drivers x singer!reader

SUMMARY: They say that if a poet loves you, they will write you into immortality. But if you date a musician, they might write you into the Billboard 100. Which is exactly what happens to your driver boyfriend.

Featuring: Lewis Hamilton, Lando Norris, Oscar Piastri, Carlos Sainz Jr, Max Verstappen, Charles Leclerc, George Russell

Note: Yes, two songs are sung by male artists. Yes, I'm going to ignore that fact and you should, too.

Lewis Hamilton

He's been in the room maybe five times. The space always felt strangely sacred to him - this is where you write, compose and practice songs with your band; this is where the magic, so to speak, happens. Walls are absolutely covered with tour posters, polaroids and printed-out articles. There's a large mirror that seems to be a message board considering all the sticky notes and words written with a marker. The only somewhat de-cluttered space is surrounding the setup. It's an unspoken testament to being a musician in a band.

There's a certain tension inside the driver. You've never asked him to listen to a song before it's finished. Sure, he has listened through your albums before they were officially released but it was always just that - a recording, not a live version. So what's different this time? Why is it vital he hears this song early?

Walking through the room, Lewis has to carefully watch where he's going. He doesn't want to accidentally break something by stepping on a cable or kicking a box with unknown contents. Inside a garage, he knows what not to touch but a recording studio and instruments are pretty much an unknown world to him.

Lewis is standing around a tad awkwardly, hands in pockets, when the bassist pushes a big black box closer to the driver.

"Have a seat." The musician points to the chest.

Lewis frowns. "On the box?" he asks, unsure. "Is that okay?"

"It's the Lucky Chest, Hamilton," the bassist announces. The other band members snicker at the title. "You have to sit on it."

"What's lucky about it?" Lewis inquires. More than the seating choice, he's interested in the reason for laughter.

"The first time we played at a big festival," the guitarist begins, her story slightly interrupted by her tuning the guitar, "we were sitting on it and listening to Green Day's stage, wondering 'how the fuck are we supposed to play after them?'."

"We were doing like a punk-rock tribute thing," adds the drummer. He's adjusting his seat and judging by the constant up-and-down movement, he can't make up his mind. The process is finally over when he reaches to tap the high-hat and nods to himself, content.

"After we finished our set," you take over retelling the story, "Billy Joe Armstrong came up to us and said we did great."

"So now it's the Lucky Chest," concludes the bassist.

Perhaps it's another testament to being a musician in a band when multiple people together tell one story without cutting details or creating chaos. A true harmony, though a joke a little on the nose.

"Well, I'm honoured," Lewis says. An airy giggle escapes him as he's still thinking about how easily teamwork comes to you and your band.

"You should be." The guitarist points her finger at him in a joking but accusatory way. Then she looks over her shoulder. "Whenever you're ready, drummer boy."

Music fills the room and Lewis is instantly captivated by you. He noticed it the first time he saw you on stage, how something inside you changes the moment you hear the instruments playing. Intensity, fire - passion in its most primal form. But this time around, the look in your eyes is different. You're no longer looking at the audience but him specifically; instead of singing a song, you seem to be telling him something.

So he listens.

I'm a desert, you're an ocean It's your motion that I need Without you I am broken, left to thirst out in the heat

And how strange he suddenly feels: all of the sentiments he already knows but now that you've put them into words for the whole world to hear, he can't help but find some revelation in them. For a moment, there's only the two of you and your confession of desire. Every word resonates with him and Lewis feels like he could say all of those things about you, too.

The song is far from over but he has already decided - he will listen to it before every race.

Lando Norris

Nothing seemed different about that day.

Lando is streaming while you're still at the studio. In an hour or so, you will come back, he will end the stream and the two of you will sit down to eat something. You will talk about your day, he will say something silly and both of you will laugh. Just like you always did.

To his credit, Lando couldn't have known about the song because you never told him. Some part of you thought it would be a bit dramatic to announce that you've written a song about him but can't play it yet because it's not finished. It would spoil the fun, wouldn't it? Therefore, you decided to tell Lando only after he listened to the final product. Perhaps you also wanted to seem a lot more nonchalant about the whole thing, planning on giving him just an off-hand comment of "oh, by the way, this one's about you". Life, however, rarely turns out the way we plan and that's exactly what happened that night.

If it was just one or two people calling Lando "honeybee" on the stream, he probably wouldn't even notice. But even he will pay attention when the comments are going on hundreds if not thousands.

He can't help but grow flustered at the pet name born out of his visceral fear of insects.

"Who told you that?!" he yells in a comically angry tone, a poor attempt at hiding embarrassment.

The comments come flooding again, explaining the situation only in variations of your name and the title Espresso. And like a detective following a crime, Lando immediately searches the internet.

"I feel lied to," he speaks up. "She didn't tell me she has a new song coming out. Why am I the last one to know? When I literally live with her? This is so unfair, I'm obviously the biggest fan, I should know first!"

Lando plays the music video. From the first line of "he's thinking about me every night", his bashfulness only gets worse. What starts as an excited smile, grows into a flustered, giggly mess. Although his pride is on the line, he can't deny any of the claims you make in the song. Yes, he couldn't sleep one night thinking about you and texted you about that. Yes, he does call you often even though he hates making phone calls. And yes, Lando Norris is, in fact, wrapped around your finger. What a horse is everyone can see and similarly, everyone can see and define who Lando is when it comes to his girlfriend:

"Simp?" he reads one of the comments. "Look, maybe I am but at the end of the day I'm dating her and you're not so who's the real loser here?"

Lando can only laugh his heart out when the chat gets flooded with identical comments: You.

"Okay, I admit. I'm down bad for my girlfriend and I'm proud of that."

Tomorrow's headlines are bound to be interesting...

Oscar Piastri

Although Oscar has seen you in musicals countless times, this situation feels a lot weirder and more uncomfortable. When he comes to watch your show, he's in the audience and you're on the stage. Now you're sitting side by side on the couch in your shared apartment, about to see your first movie. You're both the audience and the creator, which leaves you unsure how to act.

Unfortunately, your discomfort only grows. Oscar seems to be enjoying the movie but joy is not granted to you on this day. With each minute, you know your big part is coming. Oh God, what is he going to think?

Then, you suddenly pause the film. Oscar looks at you confused.

"There's something you need to know before you watch this scene and listen to the song," you say before he can ask you about your strange actions.

Oscar's frown only deepens. "You're making it sound really serious."

"Because it is. The thing is... " you hang your voice, unsure how to put words together. How do you tell someone this without making things awkward? "This is more embarrassing than I thought it would be but the song you're about to hear, I wrote it thinking about you."

He's trying to smile but the shadow of embarrassment on his face doesn't go unnoticed. You can only hope it's good kind of nervous.

The movie is resumed. As your discomfort is barely tolerable, you're looking away from the TV, fidgeting ever-so-slightly. Once or twice, you glance at Oscar, trying to see his reaction. The problem is, he's sitting unbelievably still. True, Oscar Piastri tends to be on the calmer side but right now it feels off. As if lost deep in thought, he appears to be diligently contemplating the scene in the movie; picking apart the words that came to your mind while thinking about him.

When the song comes to an end, you pause the film once more. A tense silence falls between you and Oscar, both longing to say something and yet neither willing to.

"So?" you begin hesitantly. "What do you think?"

Oscar shifts awkwardly. "Erm... I don't really know what to say."

A nervous giggle escapes your lips. "It's really sappy, I know." You try to downplay the situation, fearing that his reaction is born out of something negative. Does he think you're clingy? Obsessive? Too dramatic to handle?

"It's not that," he quickly denies. "Well, okay, it is kind of sappy but it's good sappy?" Oscar's tone raises slightly, revealing that he's unsure whether it's the right choice of words.

"Good sappy?" you repeat.

It feels as though woe has weaved a nest inside your viscera. "Good sappy" sounds like a lovely, diplomatic euphemism used not to hurt someone's feelings.

"Yeah, it's just..." Oscar doesn't finish his sentence. He runs his hand through his hair, then rubs the back of his neck nervously. Finally, he looks at you but not in a way you're familiar with. There's something ethereal in his gaze, a glint of inexplicable emotion that would escape a less observant eye. "It's really beautiful," he says. "The fact that you feel this way about me?" You could swear there are tears in his eyes as he lets out a flustered giggle. "I can die happy now."

Carlos Sainz

As old tradition entails, the Thursdays before a race weekend are meant for golfing. And who is Carlos Sainz to not give in to the custom?

He's sitting in his car, impatiently ploughing through the traffic of the city centre. Why are people out and about at this time, anyway? Shouldn't they be at work? Wanting to get his mind off of the fact that he's going to be quite late to the game, Carlos turns on the radio. The man is mindlessly skipping through the stations until something catches his attention - the announcer introduces you as today's guest.

"Hello again, pretty girl," Carlos says to himself. A small smile enters his face.

"First of all, I'd like to thank you," the radio host begins. "Unfinished Business is just the album I've been waiting for this year. And not only me! Have you seen Billboard 100 lately?"

Your flustered giggle is just as adorable as always. "Yesterday evening, I think?"

The broadcaster sighs dramatically. "Then you have ancient news. I have the site pulled up now and check it every few minutes. Let me tell you, Unfinished Business has climbed twenty spots since morning."

"Oh, shoot."

"Indeed." The announcer laughs and Carlos does with him. It's such a familiar theme for the driver - you being more humble than you really should be, surprised by the success you entirely deserve.

"Now, to address the elephant in the room or rather on the music charts. Over and Over Again is like a love letter all of us have written but never sent. Tell me all about it!"

"I guess 'love letter' is a pretty good description," you explain. Curious, Carlos turns up the volume. "For some time, I was trying to put my thoughts together and tell someone how I felt but never could quite do it. I can write good songs but in real life, I'm pretty terrible at speaking my mind and talking about feelings. I just don't want people to misunderstand, you know?"

"What are you saying, hermosa?" Carlos asks aloud, although there's no one to answer him.

"At least you can write a song about it! We regular folk are stuck with memes and playlists."

"Thank God, I can!" You laugh and, as embarrassing as it may sound, Carlos feels a sudden warmth spreading through his chest. "I was struggling with saying what I wanted to say to him, so at some point, I just decided I could put those words and feelings into a song. He likes to listen to the radio when he's driving so he might even be listening right now."

Although nothing bad or negative is going on, Carlos feels himself growing tense, nervous. There's no doubt the "he" you keep mentioning is him but what exactly is it you've been trying to tell him? Is there something he's missing?

"Did you tell him you've written a song about him?" the radio host asks.

"It might have slipped my mind," you answer coyly.

The announcer only laughs. "Oh dear, what a way to find out! Without further ado, let's hear your love letter to the mysterious man. I really hope he's listening to us right now. Don't you dare change the station, you lucky guy."

To his own surprise, Carlos recognizes the melody - you've been humming it for weeks now. But as you begin singing, the words leave him in disbelief. Do you really... mean all of that?

Carlos is lost in the song, feeling as though the lyrics aren't just lyrics but your genuine confession; a true love letter, as you have said yourself. He's brought back to reality only when the car behind him honks and Carlos is a hair's breadth away from picking a fight with the other driver. Nothing requires more haste or attention than his girlfriend exclaiming to the whole world that he will always be the one for her and that she will love him over and over again.

Charles Leclerc

You don't hear Charles coming in - you're too lost in your own thing to remember there's an entire world outside of the song and the piano in front of you. On the other hand, Charles doesn't announce his arrival as he doesn't want to disturb you. To be perfectly honest, he's a little too curious to interrupt you. It happens very rarely that you practise outside of the studio and so Charles doesn't really get to hear your more casual singing, not an embellished performance for the audience.

As quietly as he can, he makes his way towards you. Charles casually leans against the doorframe, your back turned to him as you continue playing the piano. He barely bites back the smile that creeps onto his face whenever you effortlessly sing the high notes - they are difficult for professionals and yet you execute them so cleanly, they appear almost too easy.

The lyrics haunt him but in a truly delicious way. A particular note of sincerity in your voice makes the words stick to him like rain does to a reckless passerby. Sure, they will slip away, although not before drenching him; their vital piece will forever lie with him.

When the song comes to an end, Charles (without thinking twice) gives you a hefty applause. The surprise makes you almost fall off the chair.

"Shit, you scared me!" you yell at him. It takes a couple deep breaths and your boyfriend's apologies, to collect yourself. "How much did you hear?"

He shrugs, suddenly realizing that he wasn't supposed to hear even one note of the song. "Pretty much all of it."

Your expression must not be joyful as Charles resumes his apologies and poor attempts at excuses. Suddenly, you cut him off. "How'd you like it?"

For a moment, he only hums and mindlessly knocks at the doorframe, looking for the right words.

"I loved it," he confesses. A strange tension in his voice proves he's telling the truth. "It's a beautiful song."

"Good," you answer absentmindedly. Quietly, you nod to yourself before looking back at Charles, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "It would really suck if you hated a song about yourself, you know?"

His eyes grow wide and Charles seems to forget about blinking for a good minute. Judging by the changes in his expression, you can tell the exact thought process he's experiencing: realizing you've written a song about him, joy caused by that, remembering the lyrics and finally taking them personally.

The more observant fans might notice a new addition to his helmet: "Claire de Lune" written in elegant lettering.

George Russell

Common sense might tell you that a race car driver must have no fear. And that would be correct, although quite imprecise. They must have no fear on track, yes, but daily life is quite different from racing, isn't it? Or maybe George is discovering a range of emotions he has not known before.

Your relationship is fresh but that isn't to say it's not serious. The weight of the connection the two of you share is a major part of the reason why George has been dead set on taking things slow. The other part is him knowing what media circus will play out once the news breaks. It's hard to blame him for wanting to keep at least some aspect of his life private, especially one that means so much to him.

As understanding as you are, George's apprehensiveness is tiring. You perfectly understand his reasoning and to some degree share the sentiment but at the same time, you are just somebody in love - you itch to scream it to the whole world. Or, at the very least, share a picture of the two of you. Both of you haven't been middle-schoolers for quite some time now, so why act like ones?

George, like the supportive boyfriend he is, loves to see you in your element. He watches the music videos, yet, but he much prefers the dance practice videos, where you're visibly enjoying each second of the choreography. Therefore, when you upload a new dance video for your song, he's probably the first person to play it.

It's a catchy tune that makes even the most boring people want to dance a little. With his head moving to the rhythm, George doesn't focus much on the lyrics until something in the second verse catches his attention:

So used to hiding We built our kingdom around The right timing

The lines, understandably, hit a little too close to home to be a pure coincidence. Now suspicious, George replays the video - this time, he's actually listening to the words instead of focusing on your dancing. Any hesitation that he's the true recipient of the song is gone with the first line of "Say you want me". The desperation in your voice is simply too candid to be just an act for the sake of the performance.

With the song loudly playing on a loop, George is scrolling through his phone's gallery in search of the best pictures of the two of you. He can't help but mouth the lyrics along with your singing, only to randomly giggle as the thought once again settles - it's about him.

Your phone can't stop vibrating. The notifications are coming nonstop. What on Earth happened? Upon opening Instagram, the mystery is solved. The internet seemed to be set on fire when George posted a series of pictures of the two of you with a caption that earned a giddy chuckle from you: "Setting us in motion".

Max Verstappen

Max and you both understand how much support can change. Sometimes just knowing that this other person is out there, watching and cheering, can change everything. As such, the two of you try to attend each other's events as much as you can. Unfortunately, the universe isn't always kind and you end up on the opposite ends of the world. The only support you can offer then is watching the live-streamed event - just like Max is doing right now.

He's sitting in his driver's room in Singapore, while you're at an award show in the USA. Quite the distance. There's something unbearably humbling about having to watch your performance like most of the world, when Max is, without a doubt, not most of the world.

In the back of his mind, Max is still thinking about the conversation he had with you earlier. Although he never misses your performances, you made it a point to tell him to watch this one. In your own words, he's supposed to look out for something fun, like a detail that will make this show different from the others. So as though he is a hawk, or more of a vulture, Max is hyperanalizing everything that's happening on the screen. He's not about to miss your little surprise.

The song begins and as much as he wants to enjoy watching you in your element, Max is a missile on a mission. Nothing specific seems to catch his eye but that t-shirt you're wearing...

Max knows it all too well. Theoretically, it's his t-shirt but considering you wear it more often than he does, it's practically yours. Now it's styled to fit the concept and image of your bandmates but the colour, the logo, the number, are all unmistakeable. Considering how much you're touching the article of clothing, compared to other dancers, he's convinced he's found what he was meant to look for.

Before he can wonder why you've chosen to wear his t-shirt for your performance, it's you who gives him the answer through the lyrics:

I feel like for the first time I am not faking Fingers on my buttons and now you're playing Master of anticipation, don't you keep it all to yourself

Max Verstappen doesn't get flustered but if he did, he'd be beyond flustered right now. The realization hits him like a derailed train - the song that everyone has been obsessed with through the summer and that has pretty obvious sexual lyrics is actually about him.

And if he did get flustered, the emotion would be rather short-lived, giving way to pride. After all, the core meaning of the song is that he's a generous lover, right? Clearly, he's been taking good care of his girlfriend.

Now, each sung line of "Just the touch of your love" makes Max all the more frustrated that the two of you are so far apart. He's earned his title of "Master of anticipation" and he intends to keep it.

[slushycoookie]

My Husband Has a Symbiote! Pt.5

Pt.1 ~ Pt.2 ~ Pt.3 ~ Pt.4 ~ Pt.5

Relationship: Miguel O'Hara x AFAB! Reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Content: Lactation kink, pregnancy sex, childbirth, MINORS DNI!!!

Summary: In the final stage of your pregnancy, you find out a new thing your husband likes.

A/N: This will be the "last" part of this mini-series. I'm leaving it open-ended just in case I have another one in me. But count this as complete! I appreciate anyone who's been reading! (And I totally forgot to make a tag list. I will do that next time I do a series.)

“Aww, you shouldn’t have!” You hold up the hundredth spider suit onesie designed for an infant.

Miles' small smile was something you couldn’t be upset at, “It's no problem. But there's more.” He points to the tissue paper, causing you to look deeper inside. You gasp at the hand-drawn baby book. It's colorful and bright with a story about how a young spider made her way to find her family.

“Miles! This is adorable.” You squeal with excitement, holding it up for Miguel who was watching from afar with a smile. You motion Miles over to proceed to kiss his face with gratitude. Miles accepts your appreciation before politely pulling away.

“You're welcome.”

“My turn!” Another spider jumped in with another present.

For some reason, you've never pictured yourself having a baby shower. At HQ, out of all places. Plenty at Spider Society wanted to give you gifts to celebrate the baby. Which mainly consisted of their spider merch for babies.

Others were thoughtful. Hobie gave you a few CDs of punk music for the baby. He said it was supposed to help with developmental growth. Pavitr and Gwen collaborated on buying some baby toys. It was mainly stuffed animals. Somehow you also noticed the stuffed version of their spider personas in there. And Margo gave a few video games that also helped the development of the baby. Although these weren't going to be used until your child was big enough to hold a controller.

You were ecstatic to have a large circle who loved and cared for you genuinely.

“Oh, you're…leaking.” A spider pointed out. You looked down and your blouse was getting stained by milk droplets from your breasts.

Miguel was immediately by your side with a few wipes, “We can stop if you want-”

“I'm ok.” You said, “It's just a little milk.” In fact, it's been happening occasionally throughout your third trimester. Milk staining your shirts, preparing for your baby. Your husband lingered by your side for a moment and you caught him glancing at your breasts. Probably out of concern.

After getting home from the baby shower, Miguel insisted you relax on the couch. Making you watch him carry endless boxes from the party through the portal, setting them inside the house.

“I guess we don't have to worry about getting baby clothes for a while, huh?” You joked, losing count on how many baby spider onesies you all received.

“I'm not having our daughter just wear clothes that look like spider suits.” Miguel sighed, looking amongst all the boxes. Trying to figure out where to put them. You stood, ready to come to his aid. “I got this, baby. Go sit and relax.”

“I've been sitting all day.” You reminded him. “I need something to do.” You picked up a marker and started to go through what was in each box and label it. The two of you agreed to keep a few boxes in the house and put the rest in the garage. ‘It's what they're for’ as your husband would say.

It was a comfortable silence while you two dove in the boxes. After spending all day surrounded by people who constantly congratulated you, giving you stuff you needed, it was nice to enjoy the quiet. You two were pretty much ready for the due date in a couple of weeks. Miguel was not going to stand being underprepared if he couldn’t help it.

The boxes were almost done, your husband paused and honed on your breasts. “It's happening again.”

“God.” You huffed, going to the nearest bathroom. Quickly grabbing some paper towels. You understood that you had to produce milk for your baby, but it was getting a little annoying.

“Shut up.” You heard your husband say. It caused you to peek out from the doorframe in question.

“What was that?”

“Nothing!” Miguel quickly said, “It's just Ravage.”

You blinked, decided to not indulge and went back to cleaning yourself up. You were actually surprised by Ravage's willing cooperation throughout your pregnancy. The alien was still insatiable though and you were hesitant at first. Once the doctor reported that you should expect to have a healthy pregnancy, the symbiote was on to have sex a lot. Not letting a baby bump stop them from getting what they want..

It was actually nice though since your hormones have been off the charts. If you even looked at Miguel, you'd get horny. Not caring where you were at all. As long as he fucked you.

“Need some help?”

Miguel asked, standing by the door with a washcloth in his hand. He closes the door to the bathroom to create some more privacy like you two didn’t have.

“It's ok.” You try to decline but he takes away the paper towels, tossing them in the trash.

“It's not. Let me.” He dabs the warm, damp cloth on your breast. A much better feeling than the coarse texture the paper towel gave. You didn’t protest, knowing he was going to care for you in any way he can. But you watched his eyes.

They were honed in on your breasts. As if he was under a spell. Enraptured by the rag soaking up the milk droplets from your nipples. You held your breath, worried that if a small gust escaped you, it would break him from his trance.

“I think you're good.” Miguel snaps himself out of it, shooting you a small smile.

“Are you okay?”

“I'm ok. Why?”

You weren't sure whether to bring up what you just saw. Maybe it was your hormones acting up again. “Nothing. Nevermind.” You reassure him with a kiss.

While getting ready for your due date, you wanted to get ahead on things. You spoke to Jess on some breastfeeding tips. You figured it would be a good idea to ask since you've been leaking every five minutes.

The spider woman helps you on how to hold the baby, demonstrating by holding the air. You were listening to what she was saying, but you wondered if it would be better to have a visual aid.

“I would show you with Gerry, but he's a bit old to be breastfeeding now.” Jess laughs, “But I think there's something that could help.”

She shows you the breastfeeding dolls. Designed to do exactly what the name says. A baby with its mouth partially opened, giving you ample amount of practice to hold your baby correctly while they're feeding. And you could customize the baby too.

You quickly bought one, excited when it arrived a few days later. You undressed your fake baby from the plastic, eager to try it out.

With the help of Jess’ advice and a few diagrams from the pamphlet that was with your baby, you practiced. Holding the child close to your chest, making sure the mouth was positioned correctly so your not real kid was fed. How convenient that while you were practicing, milk started to leak from your nipple again. Into your fake baby's mouth.

“What are you doing?”

You turn from your position on the couch to see your husband, back from work. His face twisted in question. “Practicing. Wanna see?”

“Practicing what?” Miguel hesitantly walks over, answering his question as he sees you and the fake baby. “You need to practice breastfeeding?”

You nod, still cradling the child in your arms. “I want to make sure I get it right. I don't want to mess it up.”

“You won't mess it up.” He sits beside you, “I know you won’t.”

“Thanks. But I just wanna make sure.” You go back to pretend feeding your baby. Miguel is still next to you, watching you practice. It wasn't weird, you figured he wants to see how it works.

“And you need a fake baby to practice?”

“Yes, Miguel.” You give him a quick kiss to make him hush and you think that works but…

“This baby doesn't have fangs. Our baby might.”

You purse your lips, “I know. We already talked about the genetic make-up of our kid.” It was concluded that there was a strong chance your daughter would have fangs and red eyes. Since the percentage of spider genes in your spouse was 50/50. But you didn’t care. You'd love your daughter if she had eight eyes.

“Then maybe you should practice with something that has fangs.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, “The baby design options were not that detailed. And we don't know any babies with fangs. Not that I'm saying to steal a baby, I'm just-”

Miguel takes the fake baby from you, placing it behind himself. Your eyes follow his movements when he turns you to face him.

“I have fangs.”

You blink, “They retract.”

“So?”

“So, I'm not going to breastfeed you.”

“Why not?” He looks at your chest again, still exposed from your practice. Milk leaking out once more.

You force out a chuckle, “Mig, you don't want to drink from my boob.”

“I didn't say that. Why are you implying that I don't want to taste?” His thumb presses against your nipple, drops of milk pouring down his digit. “It's food that helps feed our baby. It's not dangerous or anything.

You bite your lip as he flicks your nipple to watch the milk pour out. You didn’t want to admit out loud that seeing him like this was sexy.

“Is this you or Ravage being like this?”

Miguel leans forward, his body right above yours, “This is me and Ravage.”

“Oh.” Your face starts to get hot, “How long have you two been like this?”

“Since you started leaking. I'm not proud of the unnecessary thoughts I've had.” He ducks his head in embarrassment. But you couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that your husband wants to suck on your tiddy.

“I don't mind.”

Miguel groaned, his hands gripping the couch. “Sure you don't. I feel like a…pervert.”

“You're not a pervert.” You reassure him by resting a hand on his cheek. “You're just…discovering something new.”

“That's putting it lightly.” Miguel starts to push away, shutting himself down from what he craved deep down. But you didn’t want him to make him feel ashamed. You wanted him to do it.

By taking his arm, you make him stay. Removing your shirt, ignoring the milk dripping down to the underside of your breast. You keep calm as Miguel’s eyes darken at the sight of you. Licking his lips at the sight of the liquid. “Do it. It's ok.”

He bends down after your permission, capturing a breast between his lips. Miguel sucks, his body rumbling at the taste of your milk. Because of your hormones, everything was dialed up to 11. The sensation of his lips on you was enough for your wetness to stir down below. An embarrassing whimper escapes you, while you clutch at him in need.

Miguel makes sure both of your breasts are tended to by licking a strip of excess milk up from your other breast. His groans fill the open space and your ears.

“You taste delicious.” He compliments after getting the remaining droplets from your skin. “Our baby will love it.”

You notice his bulge amongst his pants, “You're loving it too.”

Miguel’s hand dips inside past your sweatpants and underwear. The lightest touch amongst your folds makes you croon as he feels your wetness. “So are you.”

Miguel became relentless once he started tasting your breast milk. The two of you played it under the guise that you were practicing when this was nowhere near that. Whenever you two were alone and you started leaking, instead of using a tissue, he used his mouth. Collecting every ounce of milk that came from your nipple.

It was addicting.

Your husband taking turns with the symbiote, tongues lapping at your nipples, tasting every single drop. Satisfied for the day. Especially when it came during sex.

You wondered if your belly would be in the way but Miguel took care of that. Using his strength to make sure he did all of the work, not you.

He would secure you by gripping your thighs. Spreading your legs just right before lifting you up and sinking you down on his gigantic cock. You refrain him from taking his symbiote form while having sex during the last trimester, unsure if his larger length would affect the baby. But his normal body was more than enough.

You'd whine while taking him as he lazy thrusts up into you. His face buried in your chest as he did so. Sucking on any drop of milk, groaning with his movements. Your arousal coated his cock, easy for him to slip and slide right in. And then a sense of satisfaction waved over your body once you were finished.

You had to enjoy these moments while you still can.

Your due date was coming in a few days. In a perfect world, Miguel would stay by your side. Watching over you and ready to go once the big day arrived. Instead, there was an influx of anomalies popping up in different dimensions. Leaving your husband to take care of it.

Plans had to change. He connected his watch to yours so he'd be informed when you call him for the big moment. He promised to pick up right away. You noticed his annoyance of the change of plans, knowing he didn't like not being nearby while you were like this. But you took it in stride. Soon, your baby girl will be here in your world.

Miguel had to go once more, kissing you goodbye along with the usual spiel of what to do when your water breaks. You decided to do a once over the baby’s room for the fifth time this week. A wide range of emotions consumed you, from excitement to fear. You want to be a good caretaker for your daughter. But you didn’t want to mess it up. All the self-help parenting books in the world wouldn't help you with the real thing.

A strange rush of fluids went through your lower body, staining your pants and the floor in the baby's room. Did your water just break?

Sharp pains riddle your stomach as you lean on the crib for support. The baby was coming. You tried to call Miguel through your watch, taking slow, deep breaths. You weren't going to panic. You two had planned for this.

He wasn’t picking up.

You could hardly move. Any attempt committed shockwaves across your entire body. You can't have the baby here, by yourself in the baby room. So you called Lyla.

“Heyo! What can I do for ya-oh that's not good.” Lyla says while watching your hunched state.

“Where's my husband?”

The AI shows you a bunch of screens you couldn't understand at the moment. “Tech issue while on a mission. Margo and I are working on it but communication is currently difficult.”

“H-How long will it take?” You were hoping for a good answer, anything to soothe your worries.

“ETA is ten minutes for all communications to be back online.”

That was definitely something you were not looking for. “In ten minutes, I'll be having this baby-” You groan, a contraction hitting you. “I-Is it possible…to tell Miguel that our baby is coming?”

“I can but it'll be delayed. He won't get the message right away due to his location.”

“Would anyone get it at HQ?”

“Oh yeah, there’s no issues there.”

“Who's at Spider Society?”

Lyla did a scan. It was quick but in your current state, she took forever. “Ben is.”

“Will the message be delayed if you reach out to him?”

“No, he should get it instantly.”

You told Lyla to send messages to Miguel and his left-hand man. You knew your spouse was going to be upset that he missed the start of what would change both of your lives. But you don’t think you could wait for him any longer. With all the strength you could muster, you grab the baby bag and place it on your shoulder. It takes everything you can to maneuver to the living room so Ben could pick you up quickly.

To your relief he was there in a flash, blue eyes darting around to get a clear look at the situation.

“Hi, Benny.” You gave him a weary smile, “Can you get me to the hospital?”

He quickly nodded, putting the baby bag across his shoulders. “I can't wait to tell Miguel I came to the rescue. You think he'd give me a metal?”

“Maybe.” You pat his shoulder as he gently picks you up, positioning you tight as he goes through the portal.

Your husband made sure there was a maternity ward and a birthing center in the building. Making sure you get top-notch level care throughout your pregnancy. Right when Ben takes you in, Miguel picks right up.

“Are you okay? Lyla told me the baby's on the way.” Before you could answer, you whined, a contraction stopping your words completely. That was enough to answer his question. “I'm coming. Just breathe like in those exercises we saw, okay? Like this.”

He starts breathing through the watch in a certain rhythm and you follow it as your doctors put you in a room. You lean against the hospital bed, the nurses helping change you into a gown.

“I really need you here, Miggy.”

You didn’t want to admit that you were scared. You had nine months to overcome your fear but now that you’re facing it, you wanted him there.

“I'm coming. Don't worry.”

True to his word, Miguel is in the delivery room not long after. Still in his suit but instantly by your side. You felt much better by his presence, gripping his hand as the birth of your baby began.

The entire labor was eight hours. You were doped up with medication so you couldn’t tell. The trials and tribulations of pushing, Miguel holding your hand to help you through it all. Thank goodness for his spider strength. It was hell, you weren’t sure if you wanted to get pregnant again after this. But it was all worth it for your baby girl.

Gabriella was beautiful with her brown skin, gentle red eyes and curly brown hair. Almost a spitting image of her father. A person you two made together after going through constant efforts of conception.

Miguel wipes his eyes, unsuccessful at holding back tears of joy. “She's beautiful.” He kisses your daughter's head and then yours.

Ravage comes out, the symbiote getting a good look at the sleeping baby in awe. “She smells. Like baby powder.”

“She does.” You press your nose to your daughter’s head, taking in that new baby smell. “Thanks, Rav. For helping us have this baby.”

The alien gets taken back. You wanted to express your gratitude, knowing your baby wouldn’t be here without them. “You are welcome.”

“We’re not letting you babysit though.” Miguel says, making it clear.

“At least until Gabi's older.” You clarified.

Ravage hums, “Fine. As long as we can have intercourse again.”

Miguel fights the urge to pinch his nose while you giggle. “Of course. Don't worry about that.”

[gummygowon]

bingo | park seonghwa

word count: 1.8k

genre: angst + fluff, single dad!seonghwa x reader

warnings: brief mention of hwa's ex partner not being in their daughter's life

author's note: after seeing seonghwa on that one show with kids i literally cannot get dad!teez out of my head

it's been almost a month? since you've started going out with seonghwa. he was a great guy, a little older than you and was always a gentleman to you, what more could you ask for? at this point, you were waiting for seonghwa to make it official but there was just something that was holding him back. you didn't know what it was but you trusted that with time he'll tell you.

tonight, was another date night and even after all these days you still got nervous before each one. it was no different when you arrived at seonghwa's house fiddling with the hem of your cardigan.

hesitantly, you knocked on the door to reveal a disheveled looking seonghwa. his usually slicked back hair wasn't done and a few buttons on his shirt were open.

"hi," seonghwa breathes out, a tired smile on his face.

"are you okay, hwa?" you ask almost instantly, concern taking over before you notice a tiny figure waddling up behind him. big doe eyes looking up at you from behind his legs, "oh hello!"

"yeojin, go into your room really quickly. appa will be there in a second." seonghwa softly asks, the exhaustion evident in his voice. "come in, i'm so sorry. just give me a minute, things have been...chaotic."

"oh no worries." you respond empathetically, taking note of how many toys and coloring books were scattered all over the place. so he has a child? is he divorced?

before too many questions popped into your mind, seonghwa immediately began talking as he began to pick up the scattered toys. "i'm so sorry about the mess. i had to stay at the office a little longer and then i picked up yeojin late and i just haven't had time to clean up and then our babysitter canceled last minute and now-"

"hey, hey," you interrupt before seonghwa combusts from being overwhelmed. to ease the burden, you also begin to pick up the toys around the living room after you placed a hand on his back. "it's okay. don't worry about it. there's always tomorrow seonghwa."

"i know, i know but-wait. you're not mad or disgusted?" the man stops in his tracks looking at you perplexed.

"i'm a little surprised if i'm being honest. i know taking care of a child is hard and by yourself i assume is even harder. your kid is more important than anything in the world, missing one date won't kill me hwa."

seonghwa was standing still, not a sound coming out his mouth which was beginning to freak you out. did you say the wrong thing? is seonghwa yeojin's dad or? "seonghwa?"

"sorry, i'm just a little shocked. not a lot of people are very happy when they find out they've been going out with a single dad." seonghwa lightly jokes trying to ease the tension in the air. "thank you though. it means a lot. really."

"of course," you smile at him.

a door opens to reveal a tiny yeojin peeking out from what you presumed to be her room.

"hey bubba, what's up." seonghwa asks, his voice becoming much softer.

she doesn't say much but instead pads over to the coffee table and attaches herself to her dad. "can we draw?"

"of course bubs. let appa go get the markers."

"i can get them." you say faster than seonghwa gets up to which he directs you over to one of the drawers in the living room.

upon your arrival, seonghwa has a bluey coloring book out for yeojin. crutching down to reach the table, you gasp softly at the blue dog. "is that bluey?"

yeojin nods her head shyly, a small smile appearing on her face as seonghwa looks up at you in surprise.

"ahh, i love bluey! who's your favorite character?" you ask watching yeojin point to the smaller, light colored dog.

"bingo?" yeojin nods again, her smile growing even bigger. "no way, i like her too!"

seonghwa watched the two of you converse in awe and he swears he couldn't have fallen more in love with you. it was always a gamble bringing up the fact that he had a kid to his dates and lately he's been ghosted more times than he can count. maybe that's why seonghwa took so long to talk about yeojin. although, he would never admit it, you had him wrapped your finger and he was scared to lose you.

so far though, you were taking his little "surprise" or "fun fact" about him better than he thought you would. still, he was worried what you would say when yeojin left the room. would you be mad at him? dump him on the spot? ghost him after tonight? he's never had one of his flings (?) ever meet yeojin because they all left at the mention of a kid. to say seonghwa was terrified of your reaction was a massive understatement.

"seonghwa?" you ask, pulling the dad out of his thoughts. "yeojin wants to watch bluey."

"right." he answers, gently removing yeojin from his lap as he goes to scrounge for the remote in his unusually disorganized apartment.

while seonghwa looks for the remote, you continue to converse with yeojin about bluey which was the show you ironically watched during dinner time. hey, there's actually plot and messages in the show okay?

by the time seonghwa returned, the two of you were in a deep conversation about some episode regarding bingo and bluey playing pretend with their grandad. almost immediately, yeojin eye's become glued to the screen as soon her dad puts on the kid's show leaving you and seonghwa to talk amongst each other.

"so, you know bluey?" seonghwa asks, a teasing tone to his voice.

an embarrassed laugh slips past your lips, "uh yeah, sounds silly but i watch it as background noise, you know?"

"i'm not judging," he pauses, "just surprised."

"yeah, i like the accents." you say in a panic causing seonghwa to smile, "so, um i don't mean to pry but i assume yeojin's yours?"

the smile slowly fades on his face as seonghwa feels the guilt build in his stomach. "yeah, her, uh mom isn't in the picture anymore."

"oh, i'm so sorry to hear that."

"it's fine now, it's better without her." seonghwa looks down at his hands trying to distract himself from the thoughts about the past.

"oh."

there was a beat of silence where the both of you didn't dare to look at each other, too afraid to make things weird. only the faint conversations of the tv and the sounds of the marker on paper were heard.

"look, i'm really sorry for dumping all this on you." seonghwa gestures to an oblivious yeojin. "i know you probably weren't expecting a child tonight or any of this really. i completely understand if you don't want to talk again or you need space. whatever you want, i'll do."

"it's okay,"

"i-you're not mad?" seonghwa asks in shock.

"i mean i'm not mad. i understand not bringing up a daughter on the first date. but i'm just a little disappointed you didn't tell me sooner." you confess.

"i didn't want to lose you."

"seonghwa-"

"i was trying to plan the perfect time to talk about yeojin but i just got so swamped with everything that time slipped through my fingers and you had to find out in such a shitty way."

your eyes dart towards a sleepy yeojin on seonghwa's lap at the curse word. even he jumps a little at his realization and then calms down when he realized that his baby girl was almost knocked out in his lap.

"would you have told me before we made things official?" you ask, testing the waters about how serious you could go tonight with the questions.

"yes. most definitely yes. i couldn't just ask you to be my partner and then surprise you that i have a whole child that i've been hiding from you."

interesting. so was he going to tell you about yeojin soon? was he going to make things official?

seonghwa could see the gears turning in your head at his words. "it sounds hypocritical now but trust me i really wanted you two to meet. i just-i really like you y/n."

you go quiet. processing everything he was saying. from what he was saying there was a very very high chance he wants you to be his like officially his but even if he actually wanted to make things official, he has a whole child. a child without a mother. were you really ready to take on the responsibility to be one? or anything similar to that role?

being with seonghwa meant much more than just being together and loyal to one another. being honest, you didn't mind yeojin. so far you got along great with her but a single interaction and convo won't predict the future of your relationship with her. it's a lot definitely but-

"y/n," seonghwa softly says pulling you out from your daze, "i'll be right back i'm gonna put yeojin down in her room."

you hum in response, letting your thoughts consume you once more.

your brain was beginning to ache because of how much you were thinking but one thing was for certain. you really liked seonghwa. enough that you were willing to accept everything that came with him - including yeojin.

you reminded yourself that dating seonghwa didn't mean automatically becoming a parent all of a sudden. he wasn't asking that of you. probably won't for a long time. he wants you for you. it's just a bonus you got along with yeojin so far.

there was a soft click of the door closing that made you turn your head. you look over to see seonghwa awkwardly make his way over to you, uncertainty written all over his face.

"i'm sorry for going quiet on you." you apologize, fingers toying with the hem of your cardigan once more. "i was just thinking."

a quiet laugh escapes seonghwa, "it's okay, don't worry about it. i'm sure tonight was a lot. but-"

"listen, seonghwa," oh here it comes. the "i'm so sorry, i don't think this will work out anymore". "i don't know what your plans were for us but regardless of what happened tonight, i want to be more. i know you having a whole kid might make things difficult or a little confusing but, i'm willing to try with you."

seonghwa felt his heart drop and then pick back up again when you finished talking. he didn't know what to say. he was grateful, excited, but most of all relived.

"so, how does another date this thursday night," seonghwa pauses, trying to not choke on his words, "as mine sound?"

"are you finally asking me to be your partner, park seonghwa?" you smile. it's finally happening.

"yes." seonghwa breathes out, truly terrified of your answer.

"then yes, i would love to." you answer, wrapping your arms around seonghwa's neck.

"sounds good then my love." seonghwa mumbles, his heart racing and his head buzzing from the overwhelming night but it didn't matter to him.

you were finally his.

[forthewomenonly]

Masterpiece

A/n: Sacrificed my sleep and sanity for this holyyy shit. Warnings: NSFW, smut, GAYS, Vada Cavell x reader, Vada Cavell x fem reader (implied no pronouns used), g!p Vada, slight oral R receiving, unprotected sex, drug use ______________________________________________________________

"Can I draw on you?" Vada asks looking up at you from her sprawled out position on your bed. Cocking your head to the side in confusion you bring your shared joint to your lips and take another drag.

"It's just, my hands are fidgety- and you have washable markers on your desk and I'm bored, are you bored? I really think that-" She cuts off her own incessant rambling, acutely aware of your ever growing annoyance.

You exhale deeply, the milky smoke furling in the air of your bedroom. Putting out the finished blunt, your eyes meet Vada's own hazy dilated ones and you lazily nod your head.

She quickly hops off of the bed, taking a moment to steady herself on her feet before hastily grabbing your markers. Joining you on the bed once more, Vada takes in your fully clothed figure.

"So are you gonna take off your shirt? Not that i'm asking to see you shirtless! I just- just need space to draw."

You roll your eyes, a smile toying at the corners of your lips. You take your shirt off, rolling over to lay on your stomach.

Vada hesitantly reaches her hand out, touching your back with the tips of her fingers. Her cheeks flush slightly, taking in the muscles of your back and the softness of your skin. You press your back into her touch, welcoming the warm feeling of her fingertips on your body.

"What are you gonna draw Vads?" you say softly, resting your chin on top of your folded arms.

"Just doodles." She responds before carefully moving to straddle the backs of your thighs.

You feel the tip of the marker skating across your back as Vada deftly moves her hand, drawing designs and patterns onto your exposed flesh. The marker tickles against your skin and has you giggling, shifting yourself closer to Vada. Your clothed ass makes contact with her pelvis and the action has your friend's eyes widening dramatically.

Distracting herself with the ink on your skin, she leans over you, getting a better angle to colour in one of her drawings. Shifting uncomfortably underneath your friend, you reach your hand back and press into the fabric of her shorts.

"Vada what the hell is in your pocket?" you ask, eyebrows furrowed as your hand moves curiously.

Your palm brushes against her concealed hard-on and the brunette instantly reels at the touch, pulling away from you and clambering off of your legs hurriedly. Turning over and propping yourself up on your elbows you look confusedly at the frantic girl. She stands awkwardly beside your bed with deep red cheeks and impossibly wide eyes.

Lowering your gaze you gawk at the obvious bulge in Vada's shorts. "Is that...?"

"Oh god" she mumbles out through her hands, peeking through her fingers to gauge your reaction.

"Can I...can I see it?" You say slowly, scared to alarm your friend any further.

"What?" she asks incredulously, her eyes darting around the room, looking anywhere but at you.

"Your dick Vada, can I see it?"

Clearly unsuspecting of your blatant straightforwardness, Vada chokes on her saliva. Coughing for a few seconds as you watch her with a quirked brow. Once she catches her breath and realizes that you are in fact not joking, she moves to sit back on your bed. Shimmying out of her shorts and boxers, Vada's freed dick slaps against her shirt covered abdomen.

"Holy shit." You bite your lip, eyeing the now fully hardened length of your friend. "Vada can I-"

Before you can even finish your question, she shifts her hips up to your slightly outstretched hand. Slowly you wrap your hand around her erect cock. Swiping your thumb over the slit of her ruddy tip has Vada gasping loudly, pushing herself farther into your hand.

Stroking up and down her dick a few more times, you move your hand to rid yourself of your bra. Vada groans when you remove your hand but very quickly becomes ecstatic when she sees your naked chest. Swiftly ridding herself of her own shirt and bra, the brunette sits fully nude in front of you. Beckoning her over with a wave of your fingers, Vada sits patiently on her knees, waiting for permission between your legs. Threading a hand in her dark hair, you pull her over you. Catching herself with her arms and holding herself over you, Vada kisses you desperately. Detaching herself from your mouth to pepper kisses along your jaw and throat, she reaches down to touch your exposed chest. As one arm continues to hold herself above you, the other moves with the utmost efficiency, rubbing one of your nipples between her thumb and forefinger. The second you arch into her touch, Vada moves to sit back on her knees, fumbling with the button and zipper of your pants. Once your pants and underwear are finally discarded Vada wastes no time in burying her face in your wet heat. Slowly, she drags her tongue through your arousal-coated folds, and the moment her lips wrap around your clit, you're sure that you must already be embarrassingly close to cumming. Reluctantly, Vada pulls away and leans back over you. Looking back into your half-lidded eyes, she wavers, waiting for you to ensure that you want to be intimate with her. Once you nod your head, Vada eagerly thrusts inside of you. Waiting for you to adjust before slamming the rest of her length inside your awaiting cunt. "Fuckkk" She drawls out, sucking a sharp inhale through her teeth as she continues her fast pace. Ducking her head to lick and suck at your neck, Vada pounds into you harder, her cock dragging against your gummy walls with every thrust. You moan loudly, nails scratching angry red lines onto the tan skin of her back. Bringing a hand down to the junction where your hips meet, Vada presses her thumb harshly against your puffy clit, causing you to cry out and clench around her. Rubbing taut, fast circles against your sensitive bundle of nerves you approach the brink of your orgasm rapidly. She feels you clench and tighten around her, reminding Vada all too well of her own impending orgasm. Moving faster as a means to sate her arousal. Feeling you cum around Vada's dick leaves the poor girl desperate for release, her mind clouded at the feeling of your wetness gushing around her painfully stiff cock. "Please can I cum inside? Fuck y/n, need to cum so so bad" She grunts out desperately. Vada can see your apprehension, your mouth opens then closes a few times, trying to contemplate her words before you speak your own. She's ready to pull out when you wrap your legs urgently and tightly around her waist, trapping the girl in place. Your heels dig into her back pressing Vada closer to you, as she bites your neck jerking her hips into you wildly.

Thick ropes of her cum are pumped inside of you as Vada's post orgasmic pace never falters. You shake slightly and Vada finally slows, carefully pulling out, afraid to inadvertently overstimulate you anymore than she already has. Slumping down beside you, Vada unsurprisingly starts rambling once again. "That was awesome. It was so good for me, was it good for you too? I mean obviously you came but-" "Vada." You interrupt sternly, cringing slightly at the harshness of your tone. "Yes it was good for me too." You say much more softly this time around, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear. She grins widely and you press a short kiss to her lips lovingly, Vada stares at you with adoration, her high faded long ago after the sobering effects of your rigorous fucking. Turning so that your back faces her, you pull Vada's arm across your body and feel her bury her face in your hair, pressing occasional kisses onto your scalp. Pulling away from your embrace ever so slightly, Vada traces over her drawings with featherlight touches. "What are you doing back there?" You question playfully, leaning back into her hands. "Admiring my masterpiece of course." She says now kissing your upper back and shoulders. "Take a picture of your drawings for me, I would love to see your 'masterpiece'."

"Wasn't talking about my drawings, silly." She says kissing up your neck and onto your cheek. You quickly realize what she's insinuating and you turn to face her, hiding your reddened face in the crook of her neck.

After an elongated moment of comfortable silence, you finally speak up... "You're paying for my morning-after pill."

[dovveri]

what if nerd momo x bimbo reader author I need u

failing maths, but getting the girl

synopsis: momo and y/n have hated each other ever since an incident in first year. now, y/n's failing a class and momo offers to help.

warnings: mentions of blood and cuts, overbearing parents, drugs, implied sex

w/c: 4.0k

a/n: this is kinda funny for me bcs im blonde and my dad keeps making jokes in chinese about how im ltr a blonde bimbo now. anyway i combined these 2 reqs bcs im lazy forgive me anon/s

⋆｡°✎ᝰ ˎˊ˗

"y/n!"

you turn in the corridor, almost crashing into the burly man behind you who yells a "watch where you're going blondie!" before rushing off to a class he was probably late to.

you spot your friends who had called you, grinning and waving you over, "can't go one day on campus without running someone down can you?" a friend teases.

you pout, "i didn't walk into anyone yesterday!"

"no but you got stuck in the revolving door outside the chem building."

you whine at their teasing, you were a naturally clumsy person! sometimes you'd mix up salt and sugar, and sometimes you'd lose your car keys only to find them still in the ignition keyhole of your car from the last time you used it.

"so you coming to that party tonight? i heard some famous dj from the states is playing."

"awwh really?! i can't tonight i'm failing that dumb math class i have to take and i have a quiz tomorrow so i gotta study."

"you're failing everything y/n, what difference would one night make for you anyway?" a scoff from a student passing by, who you recognise as the infamous hirai momo from the back of her head and the evil way she sends a side-eye at you and your friend group in disgust.

"i wouldn't be if it weren't for your sad ass hirai!"

"stop looking at my ass and get your eyes on some books for once."

momo was meant to be your roommate in first year. although you had accidentally locked her out in the rain for 5 hours while you were hooking up with someone you can't remember the name of anymore. that was during orientation week, safe to say she was pissed and completely drenched when you finally let her in. she filed for a roommate change not long after, citing "poor etiquette and stupidity that could infect my genius", and being the university's most promising academic scholar, she pretty much got whatever she wanted. meaning she also got you assigned to the harshest tutors and markers as her own form of personal revenge, essentially making you fail most of your first year courses. which is why you were even taking this math class again.

the problem arose however, when you find out you would actually lose your scholarship if you failed another class. so failing was definitely not an option.

⋆｡°✎ᝰ ˎˊ˗

“you failed.”

“what!? but i studied all night! i even brought the right calculator model this time!”

“miss l/n, bringing the correct calculator doesn’t help you if you don’t know how to use it. and neither does studying all night if you haven’t been coming to class for most of the semester.”

you’re gaping at the professor in disbelief.

“i’m afraid you’ll lose your scholarship if you fail the upcoming final exam. take this as your final warning. good day miss l/n.”

the door is shut in your face while you're still left trying to process exactly what just happened, mouth opening and closing like a goldfish.

a familiar scoff behind you brings you back though, "what is y/n l/n doing here outside the staff meeting room? what? about to blow one of your professors for marks or something?"

you spin, stepping into her space, faces inches away from each other, "you jealous or something hirai? i'll blow you too if you beg."

you revel in the way her cheeks immediately flush, a slightly shaky finger pushing up the glasses on her nose as she looks away, "jokes on you l/n. i don't have a dick dimwit."

"you don't need one for me to make you feel good."

she's sputtering, moving around you quickly to escape, knocking on the staff door. you smirk, reveling in the slight win over her but immediately forgetting the feeling of triumph when you realise you're still fucked for your final in 2 weeks.

���｡°✎ᝰ ˎˊ˗

"y/n, you know i love you, but i cannot explain this again in any other way."

you groan, hands coming up to pull at your hair.

"but you got like a high affliction or something for this class last year! if you can't teach me i'm actually royally screwed, pleaseee?"

"it's high distinction sweetie. and just because someone's good at something doesn't mean they're a good teacher. sorry to break it to you but i couldn't teach my little cousins how to multiply fractions without wanting to commit homicide."

you wrinkle your nose, "gross dude they're literally related to you."

"no babes homicide means i wanted to kill them."

"oh... i guess that's better?"

"focus! c'mon you remember how to do the cross product right?"

"i don't get ittttttt!!!!!!! isn't that just multiplication? a times b equals ab!"

"this isn't algebra it's vectors. cross product isn't multiplication y/n."

you groan again, facepalming the desk in front of you.

your friend sighs, "sorry y/n i have to get going now. promised my boyfriend i'd go watch his game tonight."

"what?! you can't leave me here!"

your friend's already packing up their stuff though, "sorry! good luck with the studying though!"

you wail in goodbye, sitting up again and slapping your face a few times, trying to hype yourself up.

two minutes later, and you're still absolutely nowhere.

you decide to go out for a quick stroll rather than start a campfire in the middle of the library with all your papers. the evening breeze feels refreshing against your skin as you take in the sky. breathing in a deep sigh and closing your eyes briefly.

definitely the wrong idea when you crash headfirst into something that yelps a "what the fuck!" followed by the sound of smashing glass and a whine of pain.

your eyes are quick to open and you stare down at a bleeding hirai momo next to what looks to be a ruined 3D print of a final project or something.

"oh shit momo! are you okay?" you crouch down quickly, trying to collect the glass pieces that have broken, yelping when a piece digs into your skin.

"has all that bleach finally reached your brain y/n? who goes for broken glass with their bare hands?" she's frowning, rubbing her head a little and inspecting the cut across her arm.

"i-i'm sorry i-"

she sighs, "save it. i've had a long enough day as it is. being around you any longer is just gonna increase my chances of dying to some freak plane crash or something." she's standing up and brushing her hands off on her pants muttering to herself, "i'll have to call security to come clean this up."

you realise then that her eyes look a little puffier than usual, slightly tinged with red, the telltale signs of crying.

you suddenly feel terrible. whatever you had just broken seemed like an extremely intricate piece of work, and she was still bleeding down her arm but she didn't seem to pay it much mind, taking a phone out of her pocket and dialing security.

you step to the side and wait for her to finish talking on the phone. she doesn't realise you haven't left yet, swearing under her breath as she assess the damage once again.

when she turns and sees you again, she scowls, "what are you still doing here bimbo? don't you have a dick to ride or some jewelry to shine?"

you ignore her, blushing instead, "you're still bleeding."'

she looks surprised at that response, glancing at her arm again briefly and shrugging, "it's whatever. i'll clean it up later."

you wrap a hand around her wrist then, still not meeting her eyes, "let me? it'll be hard to bandage it properly with your left hand. and i kinda owe you for all of-" you gesture vaguely with your other hand at the ground, "this."

she's tugging her hand back quickly though, "don't bother. you'd probably make it worse. just go home y/n."

you sigh exasperatedly, "won't you just let me help! i feel bad okay? i can't just leave you here bleeding onto the concrete waiting for security to come clean this up."

she's surprised at your outburst, eyes locking onto yours and then nodding slightly. you don't let her rethink her decision as you drag her back inside the library, heading into the storeroom where you knew they had emergency first aid supplies.

you sit her down on the chair and rummage through the small kit for some alcohol wipes to clean the wound first.

she's eyeing you with a sort of caution, but is quick to clench her eyes shut and gasp at the first sting of disinfectant.

it's quiet for a bit while you work on cleaning her wound.

"where'd you learn first aid?" she speaks up first, eyes meting yours again.

"my little sister used to play around a lot with the rougher kids in the neighborhood. so she was always coming home with scratches and cuts and my mom was at work most of the time so i had to learn to take care of her myself."

momo hums, "guess that didn't really translate to taking care of yourself then huh? i mean with the way you're always tripping over air and stuff, you're more of a danger to yourself than a serial killer would be." there's no malice to her words this time, just lightly teasing you and you smile.

"i am sorry by the way. for breaking that. it looked like it'll be pretty hard to replicate."

"nah. i can just print another one tomorrow don't worry."

you both fall into silence again as you finish cleaning her wound, going to collect a few of the bandages to start wrapping around her arm.

you clear your throat a little awkwardly, "so... long day?"

she chuckles humorlessly in response, "something like that."

"wanna talk about it?"

she bristles then, and you're quick to correct yourself, "i mean you don't have to. just... making conversation."

it's quiet for a little longer and you're finishing wrapping her up, grabbing a small adhesive to stick it all together when she sighs. "sorry. just had a lot of pressure from back home lately. my parents keep wanting me to hurry up and graduate so i can go back to japan and take over the family companies. they called earlier saying how they're cutting off my funding for next year if i continue to drag out my studies."

"what? but you're only 23. don't you have like, things left you wanna do before you're all old and unable to move anymore?"

she giggles a little, its the first time you've heard that from her, "yeah tons actually. i've always wanted to see the northern lights and stay in one of those cute little igloos in finland, maybe go to antarctica and do some research there."

"okay! do that! what's stopping you?"

she smiles at you sadly, "my parents won't allow it. they'd disown me for not taking over their companies. and frankly, i'd be broke without them. i don't have the kind of money to keep living abroad like this if they were to stop supporting me."

you tilt your head a little in confusion, "can't you find a job?"

she's laughing then, a full, nose-scrunching laugh, "not with the classes i'm taking. i'd have to either take part-time study, which my parents would literally kill me for because it's 'embarassing' and would bring shame on our family name, or... never sleep again and take a night job or something."

you frown, sitting back on your heels.

"thanks for this by the way. you're still hurt though, do you want me to do you?"

"-and don't make a weird joke about that." she interrupts you before you can even open your mouth.

you pout, nodding a little as she laughs, and grabs the first aid box from you, gently placing your hand in her lap and cleaning your fingers.

you're caught by the way her eyebrows furrow a little in concentration, her teeth biting into her bottom lip slightly, and you can't help but think she looks cute.

you're brought quickly out of these alarming thoughts though, when she asks "how come you're in the library so late on a friday night anyway? never thought the day would come."

you groan, remembering the stack of math papers you have sitting on your desk, "i have to study for a math final coming next week. if i fail i lose my scholarship and i can't let my mom pay for any of this. she's already worked hard enough getting both my sister and me through school."

momo looks surprised at your admission, "oh. i'm sorry. i didn't know you were on scholarship."

you hum, "yeah most people don't assume it from looking at me." you tease a little, flipping your blonde hair over your shoulder and giving a little jingle of your bracelets.

"i'm not materialistic or anything but i enjoy having things that make me look nice y'know?"

she rolls her eyes, placing bandaids carefully onto your fingers.

"you don't need any of those things anyway."

you're caught again, unsure whether that was a compliment or some new way of torturing you.

she clears her throat, "all done."

you look at your hand, cutely littered with some winnie the pooh bandaids she must have found in the first aid kit.

you beam up at her, "thanks!"

she blushes a little and looks away from you, shyly rubbing the back of her neck, "hey look... i can help you study for that test next week if you want. don't want you losing your scholarship over something simple like that. plus i kinda helped go through all the first year math exams for some extra credit with the head of department."

you're shocked at first, and then jumping and squealing, bringing her up with you, "what?! you will?! oh my god thank you!!!!! holy shit oh my god i'm not gonna fail oh shit i'm-"

she's shooshing you in an instant though, a hand clamped over your mouth, eyes darting behind you, "y/n! we're still in a library!"

you grin when she lets you go, whispering loudly, "thank you!"

she's rolling her eyes and letting herself be dragged over to your table, praying that she didn't make the wrong decision deciding to help you.

⋆｡°✎ᝰ ˎˊ˗

momo's standing outside your lecture theatre, waiting for your class to end. you texted her saying you were getting your final results back today so she decided to pop by and make sure everything was okay.

once students start exiting the class she slips in, walking towards the professor who's packing up her stuff..

"momo! good to see you here. although i'm a little surprised. i wasn't expecting you."

"hey professor kwon. i'm just here to-"

momo's attacked from the back, you're squealing as you latch onto her excitedly, waving a test paper in front of her face, "i passed! momo look i passed! with a 62!!!!! that's higher than i've ever gotten!!!!!"

"miss l/n. i didn't know you knew momo." professor kwon is looking you up and down with a little distaste but you ignore it, squeezing momo even tighter in thanks.

"y/n- stop- wait lemme see that-" she snatches the paper out of your hand and scans it, eyes lighting up when she confirms you did in fact pass.

"congratulations! all that hard work really paid off."

you're blushing, "couldn't have done it without you hirai. c'mon, come out with my friends and i tonight to celebrate!"

"o-oh i don't know about that y/n... i've got-"

"study yeah yeah you always do. but you've gotta relax every now and then you know?"

"miss l/n is right momo. you're the most hardworking student here you should give yourself a break every now and then."

you're nodding fiercely, "right right! thanks professor kim!"

she looks at you with a glare, "kwon. its professor kwon miss l/n."

you're nodding, waving her off shaking momo, "c'mon pleaseeeeeeee? i'll pay for everything. as a thanks for helping me. and i can afford it now too since i won't be losing my scholarship which is also thanks to you so..!"

momo's still uncertain, hand at the back of her neck again, a nervous tick you've picked up on.

"oh professor i just remembered!" you're switching back to your professor, excitement and attention everywhere, "you were looking for outstanding students to tutor next semester right? how about momo? she's the only reason i passed this final and trust me when i say i'm a pretty difficult student to teach."

"oh?" the professor looks towards momo who's eyes have widened, "i had actually planned on asking you regardless but seeing as you were very successful with miss l/n it's just even more proof that you'd be a great teacher. what do you say momo? it's paid decently and great on your academic and work transcripts as well..."

you're looking between your professor and momo with full eyes.

momo looks like she's about to reject the offer, you knew it was because her parents expected her to be back in japan next year but you stop her before she's able to say anything.

"momo! this is great! this is exactly what you need! a job while you're still at uni so you can study at any time but still get paid for it!"

"y/n..."

"it's okay momo. think about it and let me know if you're interested and you've got the job 100%. i've got to get going to my next class now but goodbye girls, congratulations miss l/n but i hope i won't be seeing you in my class next year."

"oh definitely not professor kim!" you wave enthusiastically, giggling at the way the professor sighs in defeat.

you look back at momo who still looks a little stunned.

"well? what do you think?" you ask her excitedly.

"i- i don't know... there's a lot to think about..."

you tilt your head to the side a little in confusion, a gesture momo was beginning to grow fond of.

"i can't just abandon my family y/n. it's a decision that will take me some time to go over." she smiles at you gently, you can't believe this was the same girl who used to call you mean words and intentionally pray on your downfall.

"mm okay. i don't really get it but as long as you're happy in the end it doesn't matter. now c'mon! you coming tonight or not?"

she sighs fondly, "yeah yeah just this once. and we better be home by 12!"

you're pulling her along again scoffing, "riiiiiiiiight 12pm maybe."

"y/n!"

⋆｡°✎ᝰ ˎˊ˗

momo was most definitely out of her comfort zone. she mostly stuck to the bar, avoiding eye contact with people who tried to approach her. she quickly ordered another drink, hoping the alcohol could at least ease her nerves.

you were most definitely in your zone. you adored being able to dress up and let loose, especially when everyone else is so drunk you’re no longer the only person falling over themselves. you could laugh a little and have fun as well.

you could feel momo’s eyes on you and you ached to drag her out onto the dance floor and join you but she was adamant on staying by the bar when you had tried.

you’re not sure if it was the alcohol or maybe you were just attracted to her now after you’ve spent a whole week studying with her pretty much every minute of every day. but she looked good. you licked your lips as your eyes trailed down the slant of her jawline, her neck and clavicles outlined in the halter top she was sporting. your eyes politely moved past her chest but darted straight down to the abs that she apparently had hidden from the entire student body. how did she even have time to have abs when she always had her nose in a book or was in a lab conducting experiments?

you snap out of it when you realise said abs were moving closer to you for some reason, and suddenly she's all in your space, shoving someone behind you that you hadn't even realised was there in your momo-induced daze.

you turn to see a man with half his shirt unbuttoned and a look of surprise on his face. "the fuck dude?"

momo says nothing, reaching for your drink instead, sticking a finger in and swirling it around for 2 seconds before bringing it to her lips.

that was hot.

"rohypnol."

"what? what the fuck are you on about?" the guy is annoyed, drawing the attention of bystanders as they create a small circle around the three of you, you spot your friends in the crowd looking at you in confusion silently asking what's going on?

you can only shake your head, attention moving back to momo who's standing up straight, almost chest to chest with the guy now.

"rohypnol. a drug belonging to the benzodiazepine class of drugs that inhibits the central nervous system causing the user to experience extreme drowsiness and even blackout in some cases. it can also cause the user memory loss and brings the user to a higher state of intoxication in a rapid amount of time. it's street name is roofies."

the man is sputtering now, "w-what? what is this bullshit? what are you tryna say huh?"

"that you tried to roofie my friend here. do you want me to call the police? have them check this drink for traces of the drug?"

"what!? the fuck?!"

momo sighs, her eyes closing for a second, "is your vocabulary only limited to what? and the fuck? it's getting tiring talking to you."

he's gaping like a fish, the people surrounding you have called security over and they're tying his hands behind his back and he's left squirming against them, yelling more curses as momo stands stoically, watching him get taken away.

she sighs when he's out of sight and turns to you with a smile, "you should be more careful. you could've been hurt tonight."

you can't even think straight and the music is being turned back up, and momo looks so good, you can't help the way you're pulling her in by the waist and planting your lips on hers.

she makes a sound of surprise and is shocked for a second, but closes her eyes and returns the kiss, maneuvering you a little so she can place the spiked drink on a nearby table before her hand returns to you, one hand cupping your cheek, the other on your shoulder.

you're a little desperate when you claw at her abs that are now within touching distance, and she giggles into the kiss. you mutter a small shut up, reattaching your lips, feeling all the adrenaline of the night pumping through you as you mould yourself against her.

"god is it weird that- that kinda turned me on a little?" you're speaking between breaths, her lips swallowing up your words, not letting you catch a break.

she hums lightly against you, "which part?"

"the- when you were talking- about all those chemicals- and whatever-"

she breaks away from you then, an eyebrow arched and a hint of a smirk on her face, "you get off on me talking nerdy?"

you want to wipe that smirk off her face. "take me home and i'll show you what i get off on."

her eyes darken considerably, and she's tugging you towards the exit, grabbing the spiked drink and pouring it down the drain first to make sure no one drinks it. the little action of consideration even when you're both overwhelmed with lust just gets you more wet.

you send a quick text to your friends saying you had to leave early, and then you're in a cab, lips on each other's again, hands roaming and exploring every inch of available skin.

you suppose the one good thing out of that math exam was it bringing the two of you together at last.

[coffin-ramblings]

Ashley is "very not good" and "in fact very bad". That is what the promo card tells us.

The flippant attitude to cannibalism and murder, the abuse and manipulation of Andrew, and constant death threats to Julia prove that, so why do they need to say that? Isn't that enough to prove that she's a bad person? On the same promo, we are told Andrew "exists" and is a "doormat extraordinaire", which while true, is a lot more complicated than it looks. He does not just "exists", he was the one who raised Ashley thus one of her "creators", and he is not that much of (if he ever was) a doormat extraordinaire, he lets Ashley make the choices because it's what he wants, and has asserted power several times throughout the game for his and Ashley's benefit. So is what the promo says about Ashley completely true in light of that? Is the truth perhaps a lot more complicated, as it was with Andrew?

Furthermore, it's quite odd how Ashley is quick to accept being called a "tar soul" and how she implies she's a bad person too when she and Andy buried Nina's body.

And in Decay vision, if she kills Andrew, she goes on a rant about how she's glad he's dead, despite it clearly being the worst thing she has ever experienced.

While it's easy to think that she's having a mental breakdown and saying stuff out of madness, I have seen someone (can't find the post though) argue that this is Ashley's attempt to continue her self-narrative that she is a "bad person". She believes no one likes her because she's a bad person. She thinks not even Andrew likes her, and she "has to" drag him the "good person" to be her level of the "bad person" to keep him stuck with her. And when she kills her brother, her parent, her best friend, her soulmate, her everything, she immediately jumps to the justification that she is glad that he died instead of being devastated that he tried to kill her, because bad people can't feel remorse and heartbreak from having to kill someone they love, right?

And I'm inclined to agree with them. Ashley's thought process of pranking Nina is that she'll have her back as a friend after she learns her "lesson", even though she isn't happy being constantly left out or avoided by her.

She didn't hate Nina then, she was afraid of being even more lonely than before if Nina takes Andrew's attention away from her. And her initial reactions to Nina's death was to go "oops", try to justify why she died, cover it up by burying her, and after she's buried, Ashley says that she can just forget about her by not thinking about her for a long time.

That is not the reaction of someone "bad" reveling in their victory of an innocent person's death and trying to get away with it, that is the reaction of a kid who went through something traumatic, not want to get in trouble for it, and trying to rationalize it with something that sounds like an adult in their life (Renee?) would say. Then their brain triggers dissociative amnesia because remembering it would cause great stress and PTSD. Given how stressful Leyley's life was and still is, it makes sense that's her brain's main coping method, and Nina's death was just another instance of it shunting trauma away in an attempt to keep PTSD from happening. It is likely that amnesia made Ashley quite forgetful, as dissociative amnesia does not affect just one singular event, it also affects other memories as an overprotective measure. This also may be why she develops such a flippant attitude to their crimes: joking about them helps her not have to confront the weight of what they just did. Thus, even that attitude being a marker of her being a "bad person" is more questionable. Really, her actions that have the intent to directly harm people are what her make a bad person, but I digress.

The idea that her flippant attitude is perhaps not a good marker of her being a "bad person" is best shown in Episode 1 after they eat the neighbor. Ashley is made aware that her devil-may-care attitude is quite abnormal and worrying for Andrew, which worries her. If she talks before going to bed, she gets visibly confused and worried at Andrew saying she needs to see a professional.

When he later asks how she's so unbothered by the cannibalism, she replies she says she compartmentalizes nervously, which she then follows up afterwards with a joke to not have to dwell on it.

That specific coping method of compartmentalization is the same thing Andrew's brain does in his dream in Episode 2, where it ends with him having a flashback of burying Nina.

In fact, it's interesting how we never get to see adult Ashley's every day psyche. This is not the same as seeing her thoughts and perspectives in the waking world, nor is it the same as the Burial vision where it's Ashley's self-narrative of her life from childhood to adulthood and how she potentially changes it. We never get to see her dream without it being a vision, a glimpse of what her mind looks like in the present processing her experiences in the every day and the past.

This is particularly crucial because while Nina appears while Andrew's brain is doing its standard compartmentalizing of Andrew's current stresses, the only times Nina appears in Ashley's head (outside of Burial vision) were flashbacks of when she is doing this as a child. While it's framed as the moment when Andrew "proves" his devotion to her, flashbacks similar to PTSD ones can happen alongside dissociative amnesia, and they do occur in dreams. Even though Ashley has forgotten Nina's name and eyes, she is always there, haunting her dreams.

This all suggests that the plot twist of our perceptions of the characters in episode 3 is that when we finally get to play Ashley in her normal dreams or see her mental breakdown (maybe if she kills Andrew?), we find out that she feels some sort of guilt for Nina's death and perhaps their other crimes. Even though she insists to herself she doesn't feel guilt about that because she is a "bad person", it is all a lie that she manages to convince to herself and the audience. This would be very shocking as we're in her head a lot of the time, so we'd assume she can't lie to us. But she has all along, just like how Andrew has to us.

[loverwebs]

It's Supposed to be Fun, Turning 21

Pairing: Peter Parker x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Your boyfriend, Peter, doesn't make it to your birthday dinner. So you walk home alone, only to run into the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.

Warnings: Slight angst & mentions of alcohol

Word count: 1,700

A very tired Y/n stumbled over the bumpy sidewalk of New York, cursing under her breath whenever she nearly stepped in a puddle. Her purse was crossed along her body and a bottle of wine swung from her hand.

She made her way home quickly and in annoyance, not wanting to be out any longer than she had to. With that in mind, she took a shortcut through an alleyway.

"Ma'am, stop right there!" A voice behind her shouted. She hesitantly turned, about to blow the person off, before she saw the city's masked hero within a few feet's distance.

"Holy shit! Oh, fuck did I do something? If it's the wine— I'm legally allowed to own it! And I have my ID, so please don't arrest me. I'm not even drunk!” a startled Y/n shouted.

"No, no! It’s okay," The vigilante approached her.

"Oh, okay," She said, touching her heart and sighing in relief. "Sorry for getting all jumpy there. It’s been a long day."

"No, you're fine! I didn't mean to scare you. I was just gonna say, you really shouldn't be walking home by yourself. It's not exactly safe, especially at night," He explained through an overly deepened voice.

"I know it's not," Sighed the girl. "My friends tried to get me to walk home with them, but my place isn't that far. And I'm really not in the mood to talk to anyone."

She continued her path, glancing back at him to add a quick, "No offense."

"None taken," He replied through a jog, catching up to her. "Did you just happen to be carrying around a bottle of wine with you, though?" He softly laughed at her antics.

"Uhh, yeah, just tonight." She returned a weak one.

"What's the occasion?" He asked, though he already knew the answer.

"It's my birthday. I'm 21 now and I wanna have my first drink with my boyfriend. He couldn't make it to my party and the restaurant let me bring one home with me."

She smiled sadly, lifting the bottle up so he could see the written For the birthday girl, enjoy! that a waitress had signed in permanent marker.

Peter felt guilty hearing this. Not only because he didn't make it to her birthday, but because she still waited for him. Wanting to share the special moment— despite him having missed it entirely.

"Happy birthday, then." The masked boy spoke, voice cracking as he said it. "I hope you spent it well."

"It was... eh. But thank you."

"Why was it 'eh'?" He asked, holding his breath.

"It's just, I don't know." She shrugged, not wanting to get into it.

She pondered for a moment, then, "I'm not trying to be rude or like, ungrateful, but don't you have actual Spider-Man stuff to do?"

He shook his head, "Making sure you get home safely is just as important as any other mission to me... plus, I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"That's nice, but I wouldn't want you to stop helping someone who actually needs it because of me."

"It's fine," He waved a hand in dismissal. "Don't even worry about it. I was pretty much done for the night anyway."

All she did was nod, not entirely convinced, then he spoke again.

"Sooo.. your birthday," He started.

"Right, yeah. It was fine, I guess."

"How come?"

"You're already walking me home, the last thing I want is for you to be my therapist too." She joked.

"Well, maybe I could help cheer you up... I like to help people. It's what I do."

"My friends already tried.. and failed. What makes you think you can?"

"I'd try my luck," He suggested. "Or we could walk in awkward silence."

She laughed at that, to which he said, "So what's got you down?"

"Okay, I mean.. like I said, my boyfriend didn't show up at the restaurant, soo I kinda spent the whole night staring at the door in case he did."

"Oh." He mumbled. "Sounds like a shitty boyfriend," He whispered, a little more to himself.

"He isn't," She shook her head a few too many times.

"He's naturally late to things, yeah. And he can't always make it to stuff. But when he is there.. His presence makes everything so much better." She said truthfully.

Peter hummed in understanding, his heart feeling heavy at her defending words. Here he was in a Spider-Man suit, meanwhile she wore her best party outfit. Not even cursing at the boy for his absence.

He didn't deserve her, he thought.

"Did he at least call? You know, saying he couldn't make it?"

Silence filled the air momentarily, which was enough of an answer. Still, she said, "He usually does..."

"Yeah?" He swallowed the forming lump in his throat.

"He— he always lets me know if he can't. And he did wish me a Happy Birthday! It's just— he's— I don't know what's going on with him anymore." She gave a teary laugh.

"Sometimes, it just feels like he's gonna break up with me. I feel like he wants to do it, but he's waiting around for the perfect opportunity, y'know?" She quickly wiped her now forming tears. "Sorry, I sound really pathetic."

"What?! No. No... You don't." He paused. "You— you really think he's gonna break up with you?" He dreadfully asked.

"I don't know," She gave a weak shrug. "He's like, distant lately."

"Have you.. Have you tried talking to him about it?"

"I've tried, yeah." She chewed on her lip nervously, thinking of the many instances where he canceled at the last minute when she intended on speaking with him.

"Like just this week, I asked to meet up after his afternoon class because I wanted to know if something was wrong, but..." She trailed off, holding back more tears.

"He canceled," He finished her sentence, wincing at her confirming nod.

"Right, and it's like, what am I doing wrong?" She added helplessly.

"Nothing! You're not doing anything wrong," He said through an interior panic.

"Doesn't feel like it."

They continued walking as Peter thought of the correct words to say. She'd laid her thoughts right there at his feet and he didn't know what the right move was.

He gave a desperate sigh, then proceeded to say, "I don't think he wants to break up with you."

"Seriously? That's what you're gonna tell me? You don't know that—"

"Hear me out... It's just, you know. Maybe he has a lot going on and.." He started, feeling overwhelmed.

"And maybe he hasn't been able to really tell you everything he wants you to know because he's scared. Scared to lose you. Or scared that you're already slipping away from him." He rambled on.

She slowed down her pace, tilting her head at him as a sense of familiarity within his words settled in.

He wasn't faking his tone anymore, and she wasn't as in her head as she was when he first found her.

"But you're not doing anything wrong, okay, Y/n?" He continued, voice breaking as he stepped closer to her. "I can promise you that."

She looked around to make sure the streets were empty before abruptly stopping in her tracks, eyeing him, when it finally clicked for her. She inched closer to him, while her shaky fingers tentatively reached towards the bottom of his mask.

She did so slowly, making sure he had time to stop her if he wanted to.

"Wait," He put his hand over hers. "It's not really.. It's not safe to do that here."

She understood and immediately withdrew her hand, taking a few steps back.

"Do you trust me?" He walked towards her, carefully placing his hands on her hips. With a nod, she wrapped her arms around his neck.

Just like that, he aimed at a nearby building and shot a web, swinging with her in his arms. Her body tightly hugged him as they made their way to the rooftop of Peter's old apartment building. The same place they had their first date.

A sloppy "Happy Birthday" was webbed above the projector that was setup, along with blankets on an old couch that they’d made out on several times.. A few of her favorite drinks and snacks placed there as well. She noticed them as he gently put her down.

She once again turned to look at him, but his mask was already off.

"I'm sorry I missed your birthday, Princess."

"Oh, Peter," She frowned and went to cup his face. "Who did this to you?"

"It doesn't matter," He said softly, leaning into her hands.

"I'm so sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I really wanted to... But I never knew when or how to do it. And tonight, I wanted to be there." His lips trembled.

"You have no idea how much I wanted to be there. But some guy had this really wonderful idea to rob a bank on your day, which caused a lockdown and eventually it led to a car pileup—"

She placed a kiss on his lips, shutting him up while holding onto the back of his neck in order to keep him close.

"I saw the news, Pete." She said once they parted and hugged him tightly, body shaking as she did so.

"Are you crying?" He asked through furrowed brows. "I'm so sorry I upset you, I—"

"I'm not upset with you. You don't have to apologize."

"You're not?"

"I mean, I was upset when I thought you were preparing some 'it's not you, it's me' speech on my birthday. And the thought of that hurts a lot more than knowing you kept this from me."

"I shouldn't have ever made you feel like we were gonna breakup, I'm sorry. I really didn't mean to give you that impression. You have every right to be upset at me for it." He hung his head low in shame.

"Thank you for owning up to it, but it's okay now, love. I'm okay now that you're here," She reassured him. "And I'm really glad you trusted me enough to share this with me."

"Of course I trust you. I had it all planned out.. We were supposed to go to dinner first and then come here. I was gonna explain everything up here, but things just got all messy, as always."

"I just said it's okay," She giggled, tracing the spider on his chest. "Besides, I can't complain when you look this good in your suit."

She smiled at his forming blush and messed up hair, then leaned in to kiss him once again.

"I love you," He whispered against her lips.

"I love you too, Spider-Man."

[stabbyfoxandrew]

kerejeandreil au based on this post (yeah you have homework, read that first)

kevin's getting ready to move. it's not far. just across town really. but it's much closer to his stadium. his court. (kevin plays exy in every au i write bc i love him okay) he calls a moving company and they send a handful of guys and a couple big trucks to his house. he's bewildered when he opens the door to find a team of models there to pack his house up.

(jerejean are already a thing, andreil are already a thing.)

and as they pack his things, kevin asks if he's allowed to order them pizza. andrew jokingly tells him 'only if you get one of those brownie things too' before he carries out a couple of dining chairs.

kevin stares at andrew's biceps until he's outside. then dials up the pizza place. and orders three pizzas plus the brownie thing.

the five of them talk and pack and eat. during a lull, kevin starts rambling about ancient egypt- it's jean's fault for making a mummy joke, wrapping neil with bubble wrap. but they all listen and at least pretend to be interested when kevin explains how mummies were Actually preserved. and compares it to how modern funeral homes embalm the dead. (he got really into that sort of thing when his mom died. autism baby)

and then finally they're done. they say goodbye and leave kevin in his otherwise empty place. he watches through the window as neil and jeremy shut the back doors of the trucks and lock them up. one of the trucks turns over and pulls away, and something takes over kevin.

he rushes outside as jeremy's about to climb up into the passenger seat of his and jean's truck. jeremy hops back down and asks "hey what's up?"

"i just..." kevin doesn't know what to say. "i wanted to see if i could get your number."

"yep!" jeremy grins and jerks a thumb up to the logo and number on the side of the truck. kevin wilts, jeremy makes a face. "wait. didn't you call us in the first place?"

"i mean," kevin's tongue-tied. he hears jean ask what's going on from up in the cab and jeremy holds a finger up at him.

"just a second." then he looks back at kevin, analyzing him with pretty brown eyes. "you didn't mean-"

"no. i, um. thought maybe we could do this again," kevin gestures to his house, the house he's just sold and packed up with the help of a quartet of gorgeous movers.

"pack all your belongings into a truck?" jeremy asks, amused.

"no. i..." kevin laughs nervously. "hang out. the five of us. maybe. you're all friends already right? and this was... fun."

"mm, friends is a strong word when it comes to andrew and neil but... here," jeremy pulls out a sharpie from one of the pockets of his overalls (he's cute and wears overalls okay) he takes kevin's arm and starts to write. the smell of the marker makes kevin's stomach turn, but it's not jeremy's fault.

"tada!" jeremy caps the marker and finally starts to climb back into the truck. kevin looks down at his arm to find a phone number with a pretty cursive J.

"thanks."

"text me okay. we'll make plans," jeremy smiles. "and don't worry, we already know where your new place is." he winks and waves and slams his door. and kevin is left on the sidewalk with his jaw on the ground and a number on his arm.

~ meanwhile, in andreil's truck neil is almost hyperventilating bc 'that was kevin day, andrew' / 'i'm very aware' / 'do you think he recognized me?' / 'he was too busy staring at jeremy and jean to even look your way, he didn't recognize you. settle down alright' (andrew is a bit oblivious to the fact that kevin was blatantly checking out all four of them)

ahhh this was fun to write out! thank you to @ab-horror for inspiring me with their tags:

[squerlly]

flames of desire chapter 5: bonding exercise

Alastor x (f! bunny reader) -Fluff- chapter 1

your POV:

through out my time here in hell I have grown accustomed to the musty hot atmosphere of the underworld and the loud mornings of screaming, gun shots, and road rage, its hell after all and there technically isn't any rules. me and angel hang out a lot more, behind his sex jokes and playful demeaner hes a great friend. husk and I are cool I suppose, according to him I'm more tolerable. Nifftys a bit crazy and energetic but I enjoy helping her clean sometimes, but one person that's been on my mind a lot is Alastor. hes always watching me, I catch him staring at me with that weird smile, I wonder if his face hurts from smiling all the time...none of my business what he does I just wish he wasn't so eerie. I was in the lobby this morning when Charlie called us over for a "bonding exercise", seeing everybody gathered in there seats I sit on the couch next to angel, "good morning everybody thank you for comingggg, I would like to have you all here for a little bonding time yayy!!!..." the silence was defiantly loud... "uhm- well I though we could all do something fun like drawing!" standing behind her vaggie comes out with paper, markers, and crayons "oooo colors" niffty giggles "what's does this look like kinder garden?" "angel please try and at least participate" letting out an annoyed grumble he agrees "fineee..." "great! were all going in partners and you will draw each other, that sound fun right!!?" oh no... "charlies with me, husks with angel, and Alastors with y/n, nifftys can uhm..." "oh oh can I be the judge!!!" "sure..." "you gotta be fucken kidding me..." "aww cmon whiskers I'm not that baddd~" walking to there partners I turn to see Alastor sitting on the arm chair looking at me with a wide grin on his face, "fuck me..." I grumble walking over to sit on the floor beside him "well my dear looks like its just me and you" "yeah... me and you" grabbing two pieces of papers and some crayons "I cant even draw..." "oh don't worry I'm sure you will do just fine!" "why am I doing this again..." "cheer up dear this is supposed to be fun after all, I cant be that hard to draw" "yeah your right just need two colors" scribbling on the paper I start at the base of his face, doodling his creepy smile and red hair, looking up I see him studying me curiously "what's the matter, am I hard to draw?" I say smugly "not at all dear your quite easy to draw" ouch, thanks...

Alastors POV:

I never really focused any time on things such as art, yes I can cook and maybe play the piano but drawings not one of my few good skills although ill give it a shot. I would have never guessed I would be sitting here doing one of charlies silly little projects, attempting to draw y/n I look at here for a while, this is the closest I have ever really been next to her, my she really is small it makes me want to squeez her tiny little body, her head could fit in my hand easily. I have noticed a few things while observing her, her ears twitch when she's focused on things like now, her pink bunny nose twitches when she's scared, and her fluffy tail wags when she's exited or annoyed what a strange individual...

your POV:

"ok guys once your done with your drawings you will show them off to your partners!!", as a few minutes pass by I have finished my drawing and well I'm quite disappointed in myself, man I should have taken art class in high school "I finished if your ready to show them" hell no... "I- I'm done but I don't think I wanna... "oh I'm sure its not that bad" giving the drawing one last glance I turn the page I show him the drawing facing away to hide what little dignity I had left. hearing a quiet static buzz noise I look back up seeing him looking at the drawing with a questionable face "I know its badd!!!" "w-well I wouldn't say that dear its just..." "just say its bad!" "its interesting" "well what does yours look like?" turning his page my jaw drops to the floor, what is this creepy deer man not good at "its not my best work but-" "are you kidding me Al this is good!" standing up I grab the drawing, it was in crayon but it looked just like me. pausing I try to tone down my excitement seeing alastor wide eyed from my reaction "I'm glad you like it dear" "what cant you do" "well I did say I was a man of many talents but drawing isn't one of them" "do you uhh mind if I keep this..." "not at all dear~" "you don't have to keep mine you can just throw it-" "nonsense its mine isn't it?" "yes.." "then I will keep it". for once he seemed to have a genuine smile on his face, not some creepy ass smile, its kind of nice...

Alastors POV:

I don't know why but I wanted to keep her silly little drawing, its...cute?. it looks nothing like me but its quite amusing seeing her all embarrassed. I was surprised to see she liked my drawing, her eyes lit up with a small smile on her face, it feels good to know my work is appreciated even in the... strangest things it gives me a sense of pride, I might hang it in my radio tower...

your POV:

looking at everybody else I saw Charlie bouncing on her heels looking at a little doodle vaggie made how cute~, husk made a sloppy doodle of angel and angel just drew himself. niffty was running around looking at others drawings, eventually she got around to ours, climbing on my shoulder she looks at Alastors drawing "ooooOooo you look so cute in the picture!!" I smile a bit "thanks niff" grabbing her off my shoulder I set her down "well that's the end of the exercise, how was it!" "ehh it wasn't to bad" "it was alright" "whatever...im going back to the bar" Charlie puts on a little smile "well do one again next week, maybe we could make cookies together or do all about ME's oh oh!! what about-" "ok hon slow down" "sorry". this was nice, hell isn't that bad, at least not here. better than home...

hey guys!!! I was supposed to release this earlier but I'm a little sick right now from the cold weather but I refuse to let you guys down! I made this chapter a little longer than usual so I hope you guys loved this cute chapter as much as I did, love you guys have a good day/night

-squerlly

for more content or chapter please click this masterlist

@pooplyface1423 @strippezzz

[ohmyamor]

Richkid!Ateez

a/n: no jongho in this because it was a request inspired by my original richkid jongho post as well as part 2.

hongjoong

you first met hongjoong when you stumbled upon him in an empty classroom long after school had ended

as the vice president for the arts club, you, along with the president of the club, were tasked with gathering some extra supplies

the two of you had gone to the administration to ask for more funding to buy some new supplies, ones that didn't look like they had been run through by a pack of first graders

but admin didn't seem to particularly care for such trivial things like the arts

dismissing you quite quickly and telling you to look for extra supplies around the school

and so, you and the president were tasked with going through every singly empty classroom in hopes of scrounging together some decent supplies

the president had taken the east side of the school, while you looked on the west side in hopes of covering more ground

dragging your feet, you walked towards the last classroom of your side of the school

so far, you had only managed to find a few more packs of colored pencils and markers

and although it wasn't anything remarkable, you were grateful to have found anything in the first place

so with low hopes, you prayed that you would be able to find something else in the last room

slamming the door open, you jump when you make eye contact with someone sitting in the middle of the room

all the desks are pushed to the sides of the room quite messily

some of the chairs are knocked over, like someone pushed them away in a rush and never bothered to pick it up

and in the middle of the mess sits Kim Honjoong

in front of him on the ground is a large black jacket that's spread out, different colored paints and markers surrounding him

of course, you know who he is

it's kind of hard not to

his family runs one of the biggest banks in the country, and they sent him to this school in hopes of properly preparing him to take over the family business

but (according to the rumors) Hongjoong had all but stuck his middle finger in his family's faces, slacking off and doing everything in his power to avoid learning anything about business and money

you had heard rumors that he was quite artistic, and looking at the beautifully painted jacket that lays on the ground in front of him, you believe the rumors are true

"Oh," you say awkwardly when Hongjoong looks up from his project to stare at you

"uh, sorry, I didn't think anyone else would still be here," you explain

Hongjoong tilts his head to side

"I like working here because no one ever uses this classroom so I can keep all my supplies safe," he gestures to the loads of paints that surround him

you nod, still feeling a little bit bad about walking in on him

"okay, well, I'm gonna go now," you point behind you and begin to close the door

"wait!"

you pause, peering into the classroom once again

"what are you doing here so late?" Hongjoong raises his eyebrow

"I'm part of the art club and we need more supplies, but this stupid school doesn't think the arts are worth their money," you roll your eyes, "so, we're stuck looking for extra ones in the empty classrooms."

"no offense," you add, realizing you just called this very prestigious school stupid in front of a kid who comes from a very prestigious family

Hongjoong cracks a small smile

"no offense taken"

it's quiet for another moment

"I didn't realize we had an art club," Hongjoong comments

you nod

"yeah, the school doesn't really like us promoting it. I'm pretty sure it's because they want everyone to join the fencing club or whatever rich people do on their free time," you joke

you can't help but feel a little bit proud at the way Hongjoong throws his head back in laughter

"maybe I'll join," he says once his laughter has died down

you're a little shocked, but do your best not to let it show on your face

"well, we meet every Thursday after school," you tell him

"just don't expect us to have all your fancy paints and stuff, we're on a budget"

Hongjoong giggles before sending you a cocky smile

"don't worry, I know some people who would love to make a very generous donation to the art club"

it's about a week later when you and your president get called into the office

the principal seems annoyed, tossing you guys a piece of paper that you soon realize is a check

grabbing it off the desk, you and the president can't help but stare with wide eyes and gaping mouths at the number of zeroes you see written

"wh-who donated this?" your president asks, completely floored

"The Kim family," replies your principal, muttering a "surprisingly" under their breath

later that day during lunch, you happen to pass by Hongjoong who's talking with his group of friends

the two of you make eye contact and he sends you a wink

looking away, you bite back the smile that threatens to appear on your face

seonghwa

"ohmygodimsofucked" you breathe out harshly, running through the doors of the building

you grip your bag tightly, praying that your stuff doesn't fall out of the small hole on the bottom

your cat had taken it upon herself to use it as a personal scratching post

although you're pretty sure she did it because she was mad that you started limiting her on how many treats she ate

you're not one for fat-shaming, but she was getting pretty chunky

your shoes squeak as you book it past different classrooms, ignoring the weird looks from the students inside of them

you were already late for your exam, and you had three minutes to make it to class before you exceeded the 10-minute grace period your teacher allowed on test days

you can already see the door at the very end of the hall and mentally cheer

almost there, almost there, almost the-

"what are you doing?"

you let out a scream as you feel the tip of your shoe scrape the ground, sending you hurdling forward

you shove your arms out in front of you and allow the palms of your hands to break the momentum of your fall

"ow" you wince, feeling the sharp sting from the tile flooring

"oh my goodness, are you okay?"

at the familiar voice, you look up, only to see none other than Park Seonghwa staring at you with concern

oh fuck

Park Seonghwa, top student in your grade and the entire school, teacher fan-favorite, and hall monitor

of course, not that Seonghwa was mean or anything

he has a reputation for being quite nice, causing all the students to love him

not to mention his other-worldly beauty

the amount of chocolate he gets on Valentine's Day could rival how much they sell at candy stores

but, he is also known for being quite serious when it comes to attendance and tardiness

whenever he catches students ditching class or being late, he has no problem lecturing them and giving them after school detention

which you absolutely cannot afford today because you have to go pick up your younger brother from his school across town

"excuse me?" his voice pulls you out of your worries

"huh?" you answer, staring at him wide-eyed

"are you okay?" Seonghwa stares at you concerned

"that was a pretty nasty fall," he comments, glancing down at the way you clench your hands to try and stop the stinging

reaching out, Seonghwa gently touches your hand

"May I?," he asks, looking up at you through his eyelashes

you can't reply, absolutely shocked at what's happening, only managing to give him a small nod

he ever so gently opens your hands and winces at the sight of your bright red and scratched up palms

without saying a word, Seonghwa brings his backpack to his front and opens the smallest pocket, rummaging around inside of it before letting out a satisfied hum and pulling something out

it's a cat band-aid

you can't stop the small "cute" that escapes your mouth at the sight of it

Seonghwa's face turns red

"they were the only ones left at the store," he mutters as he begins to carefully place the bandages on your hands

he says sorry when you let out a hiss at the sting

once he's done, Seonghwa helps you stand up and holds your bag out to you

"how come you're in such a rush?" he questions

you glance down at your phone, sighing when you realize that you've missed the 10 minute mark

"I had an exam today and my teacher allows us a ten minute grace period, so I was hoping I would make it," you explain, "but I already missed it."

Seonghwa frowns at the way you look so disappointed

"what class is it for?"

"statistics with Snow"

Seonghwa perks up at the mention of your teacher's name

"Snow? I had him last year, he loves me. If you want, I can tell him I needed your help with something and ask him to let you re-take the test, I'm pretty sure he'll say yes."

you stare at him, absolutely floored

"you would do that?"

what happened to the scary hall monitor everyone spreads rumors about?

Seonghwa hesitates, but nods

"I feel bad about scaring you and causing you to fall, which ultimately led to you missing class," he frowns

"I-Thank you, Seonghwa, I do't even know what to say," you tell him honestly

once again, a light pink flush makes its way onto Seonghwa's face

"y-yeah, of course"

taking a look at his watch, Seonghwa says something that shocks you even more

"well, since you aren't going to class, do you want to go with me to the convenience store down the block?"

did you hear that correctly?

not only is the Park Seonghwa letting you off the hook, he also bandaged your hands, offered to lie to your teacher to let you retake your exam, and now he's asking if you want to ditch for part of the day to go to the convenience store

what the fuck is going on today?

"I'm sorry, is the school's top student asking me if I want to ditch?" you can't help but tease

Seonghwa pouts slightly, crossing his arms

"I mean, I can just give you detention instead, if you want"

shaking your head no, you tell him that you'd be more than happy to go with him

"well then, let's go," he smiles, offering his arm to you, and the two of you begin making your way out of the building

yunho

you’re in your first period of the day, a chill class where your teacher allows everyone to do whatever they need/want

you sit quietly at your desk, working on some homework

some students around you do the same, while others chat quietly with their friends and some even use the time to sneak in a few more minutes of sleep

you’re so focused on completing this assignment that you don’t notice the student aid that walks into the classroom and hands your teacher a note

you only look up when the teacher calls your name

he motions you to come up to his desk

nervously, you place your pencil down and make your way to the front

“Looks like we have a new student and the office wants you to show him around,” your teacher explains, handing you the office note

you wordlessly take it from him, looking down at the paper

“Go ahead and grab your things, I’ll let your other teachers know that you might be late for your next class.”

nodding, you walk back to your desk to quickly pack up your things before heading out

once you reach the office, you walk in, sending a kind smile to the ladies who work in the front

one of them nods her head towards the principal’s room and you thank her before making your way over

knocking on the door, you wait until you hear the principal’s “come in” before opening the door and stepping inside

“Ah, (Y/n), thank you for coming in,” your principal smiles

“This is Jeong Yunho, he’s our newest student who just transferred from a different school district.”

the boy stands up from the chair and reaches out his hand

you shake it, slightly taken aback at his height

he’s incredibly tall, with black dyed hair, and yet, despite his intimidating stature, his face is kind

“Nice to me you Yunho,” you greet politely

he smiles a bit shyly, giving you a quiet hello and looking away

“As one of our top and most involved students, I knew you would be the best choice to guide Yunho around the school and help him get adjusted,” your principal smiles.

she claps her hands together

“So go ahead you two. Yunho, don’t worry, you’re in great hands with our (Y/n) here and I hope you have an excellent first day,” she smiles before ushering the two of you out

you and Yunho stand outside in the hallway, an awkward silence overcoming the both of you

“Can I see your schedule?” You ask politely

he nods, reaching into his pocket and digging out the paper

you scan your eyes over it, humming when you notice that you share most of your classes with him

“Well you’re in luck,” you send him a smile. “Looks like we share most of our classes so you can just follow me around for today.”

“Great,” Yunho replies, the tips of his ears turning slightly red

and so throughout the day, you guide Yunho to your shared classes, telling him what buildings are for which classes and some of the best spots for some quiet time

his last two classes of the day are different from yours, so you take it upon yourself to get a campus map and label where his classes are going to be

as the bell rings for lunch, you take your time packing up your things

most of the students have already filed out of the classroom by the time you’re done

and you can’t help but jump when you look up and notice Yunho standing in front of your desk

“Oh, Yunho, is everything okay?” you ask

he nods

“Yeah everything’s great, but I, uh-” his eyes flicker around nervously

“I was wondering if we could have lunch together? I don’t really know anyone else,” he admits, a shy smile taking over his face

you think about it for a second before nodding

“Yeah of course we can. But I’m sure by the end of the week you’ll have your own little group to hang out with, so don’t worry,” you reassure him

Yunho doesn’t admit that he quite enjoys spending his day with you

and so you two eat lunch together, sitting side by side in the courtyard and chatting, getting to know each other

by the time the lunch period ends, Yunho can’t help but pout

“We don’t have anymore classes together right?”

you shake your head

“No but I’m sure you’ll do great,” you send him a reassuring smile

he frowns for a split second and seems to curl into himself slightly before an idea pops into his head

“Let’s go eat after school!” he suggests cheerfully

You pause

“What?”

“After school, my family’s driver is picking me up, so if you don’t have anything to do, let’s go eat together!”

“I don’t know about that,” you trail off

you figured he would be tired of you by now, but offering to go eat together after school?

“C’mon, I’ll even pay,” Yunho attempts to bribe you

he can see the hesitance on your face and gently touches your arm

“I really enjoy hanging out with you (Y/n),” he stares into your eyes

“And I’d love it if we can become friends rather than going our separate ways.”

you feel your chest warm at his words

and the way Yunho stares at you with wide, starry eyes makes you falter

you sigh

“Alright, let’s hang out after school,” you relent

“Meet me here after your last class and we can leave together.”

Yunho’s smile is breathtaking and you have to force yourself to look away

maybe this won’t be too bad you think

yeosang

out of all your classes, you think this one has to be your favorite

orchestra

you’ve been playing cello for as long as you could remember, and to be able to take a class solely dedicated to the instrument is perfect

you sit in the corner of the room where you and few other cello players have set up, watching as your instructor claps her hands

“Okay students, as you know, our spring recital is coming up.”

a few of the students cheer and a smile takes over the instructor’s face

“This year, we've decided to do things a little differently. Rather than having student solos, I thought it would be a great idea to have you guys do duets with your classmates.”

there’s mixed reactions, some students groaning while others look excitedly at their friends

“But, before you all get excited, I already went ahead and paired each of you up with a player of a different instrument.”

this time, more groans ring out throughout the room

you fidget in your seat slightly

while you don’t particularly love this idea, it’s also not necessarily the worst thing that could happen

meanwhile, the instructor has already begun to read off pairs of names

“Yeosang and (Y/n)”

you blink

Yeosang?

as in, the best violinist in your school?

oh fuck

you look around the room before finding the back of his head

his long blonde hair is styled nicely, and you watch as he reaches a hand up to gently push some of his hair behind his ear

if you weren’t nervous before, you’re definitely nervous now

once your instructor has finished reading off the pairs, she allows you all to break and get together with your partner

you sit and fidget with your bag, unsure if you should make your way over to Yeosang, or if he’s coming to you

the sound of someone clearing their throat causes you to look up

Yeosang stands in front of you, hand gripping the case for his violin

“(Y/n), right?”

you nod

“Looks like we’re partners,” he says slightly awkwardly

you nod once again, unable to look him directly in the eyes

“Okay, well, I think it would be best if we meet up after school to practice together. Meet me in the main parking lot and we can go over to my house.”

his house??

you clear your throat before replying, “okay that sounds good."

Yeosang gives you a curt nod before the bell rings and he makes his way out of the classroom

after school, you stand alone in the almost empty parking lot

next to you is your cello case and in your hands is a box of chocolate croissants one of your friends had given you

where is he? you think, beginning to get a little nervous at the thought that Yeosang might've forgotten about you

you're about to begin walking away when you spot him running out of the doors

by the time he gets to you, his normally pristine hair is slightly messy and out of place, and he pants hard

you resist the urge to fix his hair for him

"Sorry about that," Yeosang apologizes once he's regained his breath

"One of my teachers asked me to stay back to help him with something and I hadn't realized how late it had gotten," he admits sheepishly

you wave him off, letting him know it's not a big deal

"I thought you might've forgotten about me," you joke

Yeosang shakes his head

"never."

before you even have a chance to comprehend his answer, he's reaching out to pick up your cello case

you frantically try to stop him from picking it up, but he gently shoos away your hands

"I'm stronger than I look, lovely"

he guides you to his car where he carefully puts away your instruments, opening the passenger door for you and getting settled himself

once the two of you reach his house, you watch in slight awe as the large gates to the property open up

pulling up to the very front door, Yeosang begins to get out of the car and you follow, clutching the box of sweets

you watch as he hands a man in a suit the car keys before guiding you inside the house

"If you don't mind me asking," he starts. "What are those?" he gestures to the pink box in your hand

"Oh!" you look down

"A friend of mine gave me some chocolate croissants during our last period."

you push the box towards him

"Feel free to have some, as a thank you for letting me practice here and for the ride"

with a small smile, Yeosang thanks you and reaches into the box, grabbing one and pulling it out

you grab one for yourself as well before the two of you get started on learning the music sheets

it's a few minutes later when you look up at Yeosang and let out a small laugh

he has chocolate smeared on the side of his mouth and he even managed to get some on the tip of his nose

"I'm guessing the croissant was good?" you gesture to the small mess on his face

pulling his phone out, he looks in his camera and begins to turn red

you laugh even louder, reaching into your backpack to pull out a tissue

you lean across the table, getting close to Yeosang's face and ever so gently wiping off the chocolate

when you finally move away, Yeosang doesn't know if his face is red from the embarrassment or from having you so close to him

san

"c'monnnn, you have to go to at least one of their games before we graduate!" your friend pesters you about attending the school's baseball game this upcoming Friday

sure, a lot of the boys on the team are nice to look at

but between academics, extra curricular's, and family obligations, you don't really have time to be going to watch boys in tight pants run around a field

you roll your eyes, shoving her off from where she's draped herself on your shoulder

"I really don't" you reply dryly, taking a bite of your sandwich

your friend rolls her eyes

"whatever, if you think I'm gonna give up on trying to convince you then you're sorely mistaken"

she grins, and you wince

you know better than anybody that when she puts her mind to something, she always gets what she wants

the bell signaling the end of the lunch period rings and you begin to pack up your lunch

"I'll meet you after school for our volunteer hours!" your friend waves goodbye as she begins heading towards her class

you wave back and continue packing up

you sling your backpack over your shoulder, beginning the walk to the science building

just as you turn the corner, you crash into something hard

you let out a small "oof" and stumble back

before you're able to fall on your ass, a hand reaches out and grabs you by the arm, helping to stabilize you

you look up to see who you crashed into

Choi San

star player of the baseball team and the it boy of the school

"I'm so sorry!" he apologizes, eyes wide

you wave him off

"it's okay, I wasn't looking where I was going either."

he bites the inside of his cheek and tilts his head

"I don't think I've seen you around before, what's your name?"

you hesitate a little

you're a scholarship student, and while you're very proud of how your work ethic that has gotten you this scholarship to such a fancy school

you can't help but be a little nervous telling one of the most popular and wealthy students in the school who you are

"(Y/n)" you eventually reply when San's eyes won't leave yours

his eyes light up

"I thought you looked familiar! You're one of the top students in our entire grade"

you feel your face get warm and look down at your shoes

"uh, yeah, that's me"

"do you think you could help me in my language class?" San questions

you blink, not expecting those words to come out of his mouth

"uhhhh"

quite frankly, you have a lot on your plate

and you're not sure you can handle taking on another student to tutor

"I promise I'm not a lost cause!" San all but begs

"I'm just a few points away from being suspended from playing on the team and I really can't stand the idea of not playing," he rubs the back of his neck nervously

San stares at you with such hope in his eyes that you can't find it in yourself to say no

so you sigh and relent, nodding your head as San breaks into a wide smile

you notice the dimples that pop up on his cheeks when he grins

cute

"thank you thank you thank you!"

he glances down at his phone before letting out a small "oh shit"

"class is about to start, I should get going,"

"Thank you again (Y/n), for agreeing to tutor me, I really do appreciate it"

just as he begins walking away, he pauses and turns back around

"Are you coming to our game this Friday?"

"I'm not really a huge sports person," you admit. "So, probably not."

San pouts and you immediately feel the need to take back your response

"But I guess I can try making it to one."

oh your friend is never going to let you live this down

another blinding smile makes its way onto his face

"I promise to play my best to make it worth your time."

San sends you a wink

"I gotta impress my pretty tutor"

mingi

you stand awkwardly next to your dad, staring at Mingi

when your dad had mentioned that one of his friends suggested this "really great mechanic" in the neighborhood who was also "kinda young", the thought that it might be someone in your grade had never even crossed your mind

you honestly didn't even think it would be a possibility

"oh, do you two know each other?" your dad asks, looking back and forth between you and Mingi

"sort of?" you reply hesitantly

sure, you knew who he s

one of the wealthiest, smartest, hottest kids in your grade

but the two of you weren't friends by any means

the most interacting you had done was a brief "sorry" when you guys had bumped into each other in the hallway that one time

you were brought out of your thoughts when Mingi sent your dad a bright smile, reaching forward to shake his hand

"Hi sir, I'm Mingi, I share a couple of classes with (Y/n)."

he knows my name?

your dad nods, seeming impressed by the boy's manners

"well, I'm here because I've been having some car trouble and a friend of mine recommended you. I was hoping you could spare some time to take a look at it," he pats the hood of the car

Mingi nods

"Of course sir. As long as nothing's causing major issues, I should be able to get it back to you in two days," Mingi says, taking a glance at the vehicle. "I'm a little backed up with appointments right now, but I promise to try my best to get it done as fast as possible"

your dad nods

"Thanks, son."

a grin makes its way onto your dad's face

"And just remember, I know what school you go to if you do anything to hurt my baby."

you groan, missing the way Mingi's eyes dart to you rather than the car

"I would never," Mingi replies seriously

"daaaaaad" you shove his shoulder slightly, feeling your face heat up

facing Mingi, you apologize for you dad's comments

the last thing you need is for his parents to show up at your house questioning you as to why your father decided to threaten their son

just then, the sound of a phone ringing begins to echo through the small garage

pulling his phone out of his pocket, you watch your dad's eyebrows furrow as he reads the name of the caller

"give me a second kids," he says, bringing the phone up to his ear and stepping out of the garage to answer the call

once the door is shut, you look back at Mingi, who, to your surprise, is already staring at you

"I'm sorry about that," you apologize once again. "He's pretty serious about his car, doesn't like to let a lot of people touch it."

Mingi nods understandingly

"No worries, I get it. I guess I should be honored he trusted me enough to bring it here," he grins

taking a look around, you can't help but be a little impressed by how legit everything looks

not that you know much about mechanic shops

"So, I didn't know you were also a mechanic outside of school," you mention. "I thought your parents would want you to focus on business and stuff like that."

Mingi's ears turn warm and he brings an arm up to rub the side of his neck

"That's because they don't really know I do this," he admits

your mouth drops open

"How do you manage to run all of this on your own without them finding out?"

he shrugs

"'s not hard when they're never home in the first place."

you frown

"but don't feel bad," Mingi continues, noticing the look on your face. "This is something I really enjoy doing and I'm glad I can do this all on my own."

the way Mingi's face brightens up when talking about something he's so obviously passionate about makes your heart feel fuzzy

before you can say anything else, the door to the garage opens and your dad walks back in

"Sorry sweetheart, but we're gonna have to get going. The guys back at the office are having trouble sorting this deal out and they need my help," your dad rolls his eyes

"Thanks again, son, for helping me out. Whenever my car's ready just go ahead and let my daughter know since you guys see each other at school anyways," your dad places a hand on your shoulder

"I didn't sign up to be your messenger," you mutter, crossing your arms over your chest

Mingi lets out a deep laugh

"Of course, sir"

your dad begins walking out after saying goodbye to Mingi, and you follow, pausing at the door to look back at him

"Bye Mingi," you smile, sending him a small wave

"Bye (Y/N), I'll see you in class," he calls out

once the two of you leave, Mingi gets to work taking a look at your dad's car

maybe, just maybe, this car will finally give him the chance to talk to you more

wooyoung

you and Wooyoung had actually been best friends for as long as you could remember

when you were younger, your mom had been hired by Wooyoung’s family to tutor him in any and all subjects

as she was a single mom and couldn’t always afford babysitting, she would often times bring you along with her when she went to Wooyoung’s family’s house

most of the time you would sit quietly on one of the large couches and work on homework or color

but one day, a small Wooyoung had managed to sneak away from your mom and come see you

he’d always see his tutor coming in and out of the house alongside a young girl around his age, but he never actually saw you up close or talked to you

and so, as any child would do, his curiosity got the better of him and he went out in search of answers

despite the initial scare he gave you when he screamed “BOO” in your ear, the two of you had gotten along quite nicely

after his tutoring sessions and when you were done with homework, your mom and Wooyoung’s parents would watch with fond eyes as you two chased each other around the large backyard

as you both grew up, and even when your mom stopped needing to tutor him, the two of you remained incredibly close

it’s how you were even able to attend this fancy school in the first place

the tuition certainly cost an arm and a leg, something your mom would never be able to afford on her own

but Wooyoung’s parents insisted that you attend as well, saying it was one of the best schools in the country and they would put in a good word for you

they also took it upon themselves to cover the cost of your tuition, saying that at least this way, they knew you would keep an eye on their son

and so you and Wooyoung had fallen into a comfortable routine with each other, knowing the other person inside and out

so when one day you were late leaving your last class, Wooyoung couldn’t help but grow slightly concerned

you’re an incredibly punctual person, and even on the rare occasion that you would be late, you always made sure to let him know ahead of time

tapping his foot on the pavement anxiously, Wooyoung leaned against his sleek back car and glanced at his watch

“Where is she?” he muttered to himself

only the sound of your laughter caused him to look up

you were finally walking towards him, but next to you was a boy

Wooyoung stared hard at the guy next to you, watching with distaste as you waved bye a little too enthusiastically to him before skipping over to the car

“Who was that?” he asks, intrigued and annoyed at the same time

“Oh, he’s in my statistics class,” you reply vaguely

Wooyoung stares at you, noticing the way you seemed to fidget nervously and the way you kept rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet

he knows you like the back of his hand, and he knew that you weren’t telling him something

quirking a brow, Wooyoung says nothing, only continuing to stare

you sigh, reaching into your pocket to pull out a piece of paper

“He asked me out,” you finally admit, handing him the number

Yanking it out of your hand, Wooyoung looks at the phone number and address the boy had written down

“He didn’t even offer to pick you up?” your best friend scoffs

you roll your eyes

“It’s not that big of a deal Woo” you argue

he fixes you with a stern look

“I thought I raised you better than to have such low standards,” he shakes his head

“I’m literally a few months older than you!” You cry out

Clicking his tongue, Wooyoung crumples up the piece of paper and tosses it carelessly to the side, ignoring your protests

“I’m not letting you go out with some mediocre boy,” he says, opening the car door and gesturing for you to get inside

He closes the door as you try and argue with him, beginning to walk over to the driver’s side

Wooyoung elects to ignore the jealous monster that has made itself known in his heart over the idea of you going out with someone else

someone other than him

getting settled in the drivers seat, Wooyoung starts the car before turning to face you with a cheeky grin

“Dinner?”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

screaming into my pillow :)

[heartfullofleeches]

Gremlin Reader and either Creep or Tsundere Yan are two of the cutest pairs. A hyper, upbeat silly little guy (gn) and either their extremely moody, "fuck the entire world and everyone on it" obessor or one who everyone immediately flags as the killer in horror movies. Gremlin reader's positivity compliments Tsun yan's bitchy nature - and they'll always be there when Tsun needs them most as they find it all a good laugh. They also consider most of Creep Yans threats towards others as goofy harmless jokes - and boosts creep's self-esteem by simply being the one to stick around and feel completely safe at their side. (Gremlin could probably beat creeps ass with a brick and they'd find it the hottest thing)

-

[Creep Yan lovingly admires their new knife - clinging onto Reader's arm as they pant]

Creep Yan: what do you say, my love? Just a few... cuts... - and they can all go away~ hahahahaha

Gremlin Reader, smacking the knife out their hand: Blades are for skating, dummy. [Pulls identical pairs of roller skates out their backpack and gives a pair to Yan as they equip their own.]

Creep Yan: ...but I can't skate...

Gremlin Reader: then I'll teach you - eventually. For now just grab my hips and let's get moving

Creep Yan, flustered: h-hips?! But I... we... heh... hah- HAHAHA [Laughs hysterically til short of breath and falls head first into the wall from the dizziness - knocking themselves out cold]

[Gremlin Reader process to doodle on their face until they regain conscious in a panic]

Creep Yan: I-I'm alive?.... I thought I died and felt a cruel glimpse at heaven for my eternity in hell

Gremlin Reader: that's probably the marker fumes

-

[Tsun Yan invites readers to lunch which they thirty minutes late to]

Tsun Yan: Ugh- you're late again. I even gave you the wrong time so this wouldn't happen

Gremlin Reader, wearing five shirts: Sorry.... A guy was giving out free shirts to whoever beat him in rock paper scissors. I had to sneak these while he wasn't looking

[A week later Tsun Yan waits in a dressing room for their big recital - dreams crushed as they're informed their family won't show again. Gremlin reader's bursts into the venue ten minutes before showtime, racing down the rows with sparklers and confetti]

Gremlin Reader, pointing at their shirt with Yan's name on it as they face the growing crowd: I know this person!!

Tsun Yan, drying their tears as a small smile forms: dumbass... [points a nail filer at guards approaching Reader] Remove them from that fucking stage and I'll remove your head from your shoulders

[luvfy0dor]

“Made Your Mark on Me, a Golden Tattoo ♡ ” Chuuya Nakahara x GN!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

Warnings; perchance ooc, profanity once

Description; Coloring in Chuuyas tattoos!

A/n; My friend and I were talking about cute romance scenarios today and she brought this up, so I wanted to write about it with Chuuyas because I think he would have tattoos. If someone has done this please tell me, I know I've seen a handful of fics with scenarios like this, but I can't remember any were in the BSD fandom or not.

ೃ⁀➷

Chuuya has a handful of tattoos, they're all really intricate and professionally done, but none of them are colored. That gives you the perfect opportunity to add your own creative twist on the art pieces. After rummaging through yours and Chuuya's shared home, not a single non-permanent marker could be found. You sighed, but ventured out to retrieve some.

After a long and treacherous journey to the store and back, you tossed the box of markers onto the counter. You couldn't help but feel giddy waiting for your husband to come back home so you could pitch the idea to him. A part of you thought he might say no, but you suppressed that with all your might and looked forward to his return with hope. You waited on the couch, scrolling through your phone. He shouldn't take too long, but every minute felt like ten to you in this moment.

Before you knew it, you heard the rustle of keys and the clicks of the locks. You jumped up from your spot on the couch, staring at Chuuya as he shuffles into the house and out of the relatively chilly and rainy weather. He lets out a sigh of relief before turning to you with a small smile. "Hey honey, how was your day?" He takes off his shoes, hat, and jacket, putting them in their designated spot as he waits for your reply. "It was pretty good, how was yours?" You ask. Upon being situated, he makes his way towards you, grabbing your hands and placing a soft pec on your lips. "The usual, kind of annoying, it feels like no one ever knows what they're doin', you know?" He says, seemingly happy to be home. You nod and understanding and rub his shoulder.

"Yeah, that sucks." You say. He nods, peeks into the kitchen for a second, and sits down on the couch, slouching back and patting the seat next to him. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, slightly revealing one of his tattoos. You take the hint and sit next to him, leaning your head on his shoulder. Your fingers push his sleeve up a little more, tracing the outlines of the imagery. "These are pretty colorless, huh?" You say, glancing at him. He grins a little and nods. "Is this what those markers on the counter are for?" He asks, making you smile. "Yeah, do you care if I color them? I'm relatively good at keeping things inside the lines." You say, sitting up completely.

"I don't see why not. I should probably take this off, huh?" He says, starting to undo the buttons on his vest and then shirt in order to give you better access to his tattoos. You skittered into the kitchen, grabbing the markers and coming back to your husbands side. You gently opened the cardboard packaging before assessing your canvas. The first tattoo you wanted to color in was one of a very intricate flower, so you decided red would be a pretty option. Chuuya watches as you uncap the marker out of the corner of his eye. Your tongue pokes from the corner of your lip in concentration as you drag the marker along his skin, filling in the outlines.

You eventually fill a majority of the flower petals, moving onto the stem. You choose the green marker, holding the underside of Chuuyas arm while you color it. "You're doing a great job there, doll." He says, observing your near perfect coloring skills. "You should get them filled in like this." You joke, picking out another color for a different section. The hums quietly before nodding. "Maybe I will." You look up at him, a bit of surprise on your face. "What's with the look of shock, darlin'? Do you think I won't?" He asks, his head tilted to the side. You shake your head.

"I believe you will, I just think that's sweet." You say, making your new goal to make the colors pretty but unique. He watches the television while you work, making sure that your work contained as much love and effort as possible. After a while, Chuuya started to realize he's feeling the markers on tattoo-less areas. He furrowed his eyebrows and looked towards what you were doodling on his arm. He saw a variety of stars and flowers of your own. They were rather small, and Chuuya thought it was cute that you were making even more additions to his body art.

"You'll have to take pictures of these for me." He says. You hum in acknowledgement and finish up the flower you were doodling before capping the marker and returning it to its rightful spot in the box. You grab Chuuyas phone, opening it and taking a picture of the colors before handing the device back to him. He kisses your cheek in thanks before pulling you back into his side, leaning his head on your shoulder. "Thank you." He turns his head towards you. "What for?"

You look back down at all the colorful doodles. "For letting me borderline vandalize your arm." You playfully say, running your fingertips over his skin. "Don't be silly, it's not vandalizing, it's more of a lawful mural." He reaffirms while looking into your pretty eyes. "And it's cute stuff. It's not like you drew a dick or nothin'." He states, keeping you cuddled closely to him. You smile and give his hand a small squeeze before bringing his knuckles to your lips. "Yeah, you're right." You say with a small laugh. "Still though, thank you." He hums. "Ofcourse, doll, anytime you want."

A/n; I need the evermore ornaments SO badly. I NEEEEEDDDDD them. I'm gonna cry THE CONEY ISLAND ONE IM FJSJAKKAKS oh also thought I'd post a little more Chuuya before I post a ton of Fyodor because I got two asks revolving around him (I'm actually bouncing off the walls im so happy) and I've been talking up some ideas with a mutual : )

[moonstruckme]

Hello my fave lovely! Could I request a small something about teacher reader and Stevie coming to visit her classroom(maybe he’s a teacher too and they teach upper elementary school 9-10 year olds?)

Hi sweetheart, thanks for requesting! I decided to make Steve a PE coach instead of a teacher, hope that's alright :)

(slightly terrified some big mouth fandom I don't know about is gonna find this because "Coach Steve," but I'm taking that risk)

coach!Steve x teacher!reader ♡ 573 words

The projector always puts the kids to sleep, but you’re trying to keep them alert enough to retain what an object noun is when there’s a knock at your door. It opens, and Steve’s head pokes through. 

Immediately, your kids are wide awake. 

“Coach H! Coach H!” Their voices are bulldozing over each other, competing for Steve’s attention. “Hi Coach H!”

“Hey guys.” Steve grins at them, unphased by the effects of his celebrity. “Can I borrow Miss Y/N for a sec?”

The kids know well enough that it’s not a question for them, and they look to you as you put down your dry marker, giving them all a stern look. “I’ll be right outside this door,” you warn them. “If I hear any chatter, it better be about grammar.” 

Of course, no sooner do you close the door behind you than a buzz of unapproved chatter starts up in the classroom. You ignore it. Steve’s hands find your shoulders, steering you away from the classroom window and then pressing you against the wall with the force of his kiss. 

“Stevie!” you chide, breaking away and looking around you in alarm. Thankfully, the hallway seems empty. 

“I’ll be right outside this door,” he croons in a girlish imitation of your voice. “You’re so tough with them, babe.” 

“I have to be,” you reply. “They’d walk all over me otherwise.” 

Steve raises his eyebrows. “Otherwise, huh? So that wasn’t you I saw trading lunches with Maggie the other day because she didn’t want her peanut butter and jelly sandwich?”

You flush. “I like peanut butter and jelly.” 

Steve grins, kissing your warm cheek. “My sweetheart.” 

You roll your eyes at him as if he’s more annoying than endearing (you both know better, but the fun’s in the act). “What’re you doing here?” you ask him, crossing your arms. “You know how you rile them up when you come by. It’s gonna take me forever to get them back on task.” 

“Well first of all, I wanted to see you, didn’t realize that was a crime,” Steve says, grinning when you roll your eyes again, with even less feeling this time. He’s rubbing his hands up and down your arms, and soon he’s worked your hands free and is holding one in each of his. “And also, the second graders are testing today, so they’re not coming to PE. I’ll be free during your lunch.” 

You blink. “They’re having the second graders skip PE for testing? They’re going to be bouncing off the walls.” 

Steve shrugs. “Maybe they’re giving them extra recess after or something. I dunno, they didn’t ask me about it.” He squeezes your hands. “So, lunch.” A suave smile spreads across his face, and you know it’s meant as a joke but your knees go a bit wobbly anyway. “Wanna sit together?”

You bite your lip, but it’s useless; your smile can’t be contained. “Sounds good, handsome. My classroom? Eleven thirty?”

“It’s a date.” Steve leans forward again, and this time you oblige him, the kiss short but sweet enough to rot your teeth. “Okay, I’ve got fifth grade in five,” he says, letting go of your hands and walking backwards down the hallway. “Tell your kids I said to chill out.” 

“That’ll only make it worse,” you reply, laughing. “See you at lunch, Stevie.” 

He grins as he pushes the door open with his back, sunlight flooding the hallway. 

[bloodybreakupscene]

I had sent a request like yesterday- and AAA IM SO HAPPY TO SEE IT DONE ALREADY!! IT WAS SO CUTE >^<

I had another idea, cause my brain has been absolutely filled with different thoughts! Once again, earth 1610! Miles morales- but this time with a very well off partner who tends to spoil him alot. Like gift after gift, as soon as Miles is saying he likes or wants something- they're getting it for him!!

It's just something they really enjoy doing and they love seeing the smiles they get from Miles when he sees the gifts!!

-> 𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐇.

miles morales x reader

-> u like to buy ur cutie patootie bf miles expensive gifts and he's like aw :(

-> btw guys i do other characters LOL i kinda wanna try writing for hobie!! i've been trying to research british slang but i can't stop laughing (it's the AMERICAN 🤓🇺🇲🔥🔫 in me i swear)

you and your boyfriend miles were walking along the streets of brooklyn, occasionally stopping for snacks or to observe the stores placed amongst each other. you held his hand and he held yours. this was just another after school thing you two would do.

". . . and when i walked in he was wearing my shoes! like what the hell man." miles ranted, slightly shifting the story because if he told you what actually happened he'd reveal his identity as spiderman, and that wasn't a path he wanted to go down just yet.

"pfft, that's funny. you know, if it bothers you so much i could just buy you another pair of shoes." you reply, nonchalantly.

"huh? no way! that's your money, besides, you already bought me enough stuff."

"i gifted you stuff," you corrected, before joking once more, "you deserve it anyway! i mean, c'mon miles be grateful."

"i am grateful! i just feel bad, you know, they're all so expensive." he defends.

"name ONE gift that was expensive."

"the ohuhu marker set!"

it was miles' birthday and you were at his dorm for a small celebration, just the two of you [ ganke left because he didn't wanna third-wheel. ] so, you two were just sitting on the floor as he opened the carefully wrapped gift.

"so, how's being fifteen so far?" you make small talk, while a pit of happiness boils inside of you as you can't wait for his reaction to the gift you got him.

"totally fun. can't wait to do adult stuff." he laughs, and just as he finishes his sentence he sees a black bag with markers in them, specifically 216 markers. it was a set that cost roughly $170.00.

"oh my god!" he stands up, that's the reaction hoped for, "these are so cool." he rushes to pull you up, kissing you on your lips, holding a side of your face with his hand.

"how much were they?"

"don't worry! it's your birthday you deserve it." you pull him into your arms, embracing him.

"i looked it up when you left and they were almost $200!"

"you're worth more than $200 miles."

"aw," he leans his head on your shoulder as you both continue to walk down the street. "wait! what about that other time, when you got me a camera.”

it was summer time, you and miles walked into a random electronics store. as you both observed the different assortments of cameras, miles picked one of them up, a small, old digicam.

"my uncle used to have one of these." he says, as he moves the camera around in his hand to look at the many details on the camcorder. over the few months you've been dating, you noticed the admiration he had for his uncle, he even mentioned going down under the subway tracks to graffiti on the walls.

"do you wanna get it?"

"nah, it's $40. let's go get lunch, i'm starving."

"wait! but you like it right? i could get it for you, if you want."

"what! no way, i should be the one spoiling you." he wraps his arm around your waist.

you both eventually walked out the store, but later, for christmas that year, you gave it him as an early gift. miles felt like crying, not a sad cry, more like, 'i've never felt more appreciated in my life i love you so much' kind of cry. he couldn't stop hugging and kissing you that day.

"the camera was a gift for both of us." you rolled your eyes, "i just gave it to you to hold, indefinitely!"

miles gives you a look, "whatever, you know i'd love anything you give me, regardless of price."