#As long as I still have ideas I'll make these lmao

[504py]

No Compromises

Yandere Canada/Reader – You reunite with an old college friend, though he's nothing like you remember.

⚠️ Yandere content, kidnapping, self-harm, stalking, possible emetophobia (descriptions of gagging and the feeling of illness), no use of Y/N, gender-neutral reader.

IM BACK YAWL 😭😭 just a bit of a filler post and another apology for being away for so long!!! i tried to get this out by halloween but i kept adding more shit LOL

while this is much more aligned with his 2p version, i had no idea if it counts as such since here i portray his 1p and 2p version as the same guy 😭😭 so that's up in the air!

also u may notice the lack of a [oneshot] tag... thats cuz i have a prequel wip for this, but figured i'll just finish and post it if the people desire it LMAO. pls lemme know if y'all do!! anyways so sorry again and i hope u enjoy!!! thanks so much to everyone for sticking around and enjoying what i do 🩵🩵🩵

┊͙✧˖*°࿐

The light drag of a cigarette is the first thing you process when you finally come to your senses.

A man stands before you, singular lightbulb leering ominously above a head of overgrown blond hair, the bright light reflecting in his glasses making you unable to see much of his features. His tall, slender figure is highlighted by the stark overhead shadows that are being cast on his baggy clothing. He exhales, smoke billowing and resting heavily in the dusty, stale air.

"Hey." He says, the friendly, casual tone of his voice making you blink faster in the hopes of gaining more lucidity. His tongue pokes at his cheek as he drops the cigarette to the cemented floor and stomps on it. The gritty sound feels like boiling water in your audio-sensitive drugged up state.

"Are the ropes too tight?" He asks with a quirk of his head, you squint, thinking you'll be able to catch a glimpse of his face, but the dark shadows and your pupils trying desperately to adjust to the lighting in the dim room make the task much too difficult. You didn't even notice you were bound 'till you tugged your wrists at the mention of the word 'rope.'

The mystery man straightens his posture and takes a few steps closer to you. His sneakers are downtrodden. The lacing is asymmetrical, any recognizable color or branding rubbed off, and the hem of his loose jeans caked in what seems to be mud.

"Come on, you can speak, can't you? It's not like I taped up your mouth." The tone of voice he uses here is almost playful, yet too vague. You didn't know if it was condescending, comforting, or cheerful.

"I... I'm... Ropes are okay..." You respond mindlessly, your voice coming out in a hoarse croak. God, it feels like your head could loll off your neck at any moment.

"Poor thing. You sound parched– Tell ya what, I'll give you some water if you kiss me." Even if his face is still hazy, you can make out the glint of a smile. His canines are pointy.

He draws closer, and crouches in front of your seated figure. He's a lot taller than you thought, seeing him up close. You see the indent of a pointed dimple by the edge of his sharp lip corners when he turns his cheek to you. There's a few moles on his pale skin. He smells like tobacco, rust, and rainwater. Smells a bit like something syrupy and moldy, but maybe that's just the room.

You shudder away from his close proximity, and he laughs nervously.

"Aw, I thought that'd work." He chuckles, before facing you fully, still crouching.

You can finally see his face. What you thought were dark brown eyes turned out to be a dull shade of purple, just with his pupils as fully blown as they can go. The stare is creepy, but at least his droopy outer eye corners and straight blond eyelashes soften their impression. His nose is well-structured and pointy, reddish at the tip. His sharp lip corners seem to always point upwards, and were pink like they had just been kissed and bitten. If it weren't for this moment, you'd have thought he was an attractive man with a somewhat docile-looking face. His cheeks are flushed, he tilts his head in wonder, a few pieces of his hair falling over his face.

"Merde, you're really pretty up close. I can't believe you're in front of me right now. I missed you so, so much." He giggles, cold hand reaching out to carefully grasp your chin to try and steady your bobbing head.

He swoons, "So, so pretty." then presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth. The action makes him exhale a shuddered, moaning breath. Whatever is in your system prevents you from reacting too much besides a weak jerk of your body.

"I should get you out of this shitty room, but I wanted to be prepared in case you reacted more violently. I didn't wanna have to drag you around. Don't wanna rough my baby up." He says with a small smile, as if the thought secretly brings him some amusement. Maybe his otherwise comforting smile just comes off as sinister at a time like this.

"You're reacting so much better than I thought you would, though. You're being so, so good, you know?" He coos like you're a pet, taking his hand off your chin and his blunt fingernails gently scratching at the top of your scalp.

Your throat hurts. You swallow dryly. "Who are you?"

The corner of his mouth twitches, and his smile drops slightly. He takes in a deep breath and sighs, cigarette-stained air blowing over your face.

He squints at you. "You really don't remember me?" He says quietly.

You shake your head. His light eyebrows knit in what looks like an expression of heartbreak.

He tries to jog your memory. "Come on, college sweethearts?"

"...I didn't date anyone in college."

His lips part in shock, the wrinkles between his eyebrows deepening.

"It's Mattie. Come on now." He pleads, desperation dripping from every word. The higher, more pathetic register his voice shifts into begins to jog your memory.

The sound of that nickname makes your eyes widen and forces your shoulders to press against the back of the chair. His identity makes things a million times worse.

"...M-Matthew Williams? No, no, c'mon, we never dated. Don't be like this."

"We had something special, though. I missed you. You missed me too, didn't you? You even remembered my full name." Matthew's gentle voice raises, as if trying to convince you of his feelings, trying to justify this situation.

"Th-There must've been a better way to get in contact with me without tying me up."

He shakes his head, frown almost a pout. "I did try! But you'd always blow me off to hang out with your other friends, a-and– and I just couldn't watch when I found out you were starting to see someone else." Resting on his knees and looking up at you, he grasps your bound hands on your lap. The position reminds you of prayer. Worship.

"I love you. Always have. A-And I know I'm different from how I used to be, but maybe you'll like this newer version of me more. You did say you liked a more assertive partner, didn't you?" His head tilts while he nods, like he's trying to convince you of everything he's saying.

His crazed eyes quickly scan your expression for any validation. "Yeah, yeah... I-I was a doormat back then, so that's probably why you didn't return my feelings." He laughs bitterly, and the sight is almost irritatingly funny to you. He's comparing his former pitiful self to the way he is now, as if he had changed. "But I'm different now. I'm not a coward anymore. I'll take care of you, and I'll do it well, I promise. I'll make you so happy."

"Please, Mattie, j-just let me go, and I'll give you a chance–"

He gasps. "You used my nickname." A disgustingly lovestruck grin spreads on his pale freckled face. He presses your bound hands against his flat chest. His heart is beating wildly against his ribcage.

"Feel my heartbeat. It's all for you. It only beats for you. I promise I can make you feel the same way for me. Just let me."

"...Do I even have any other choice? You kidnapped me."

Matthew's smile falters, eyes drooping, and he looks just as pathetic as he did all those years ago. He frowns flimsily. "I-I'm sorry. But I'll be good to you. Really. I'll be so good for you."

You shut your eyes and lean your head back. Your whole body hurts. Weighing out your options, you make a decision. If this Matthew is just as pathetic as the one you remember, then maybe you have a chance to escape if you butter him up enough.

"Fine. Untie me first."

Matthew's eyes widen. "R-Really? If you fight back, though, I'll have to use force, so, please, just... Don't run."

"I get it."

Eagerly, he brings out a knife and cuts through the rope. He rubs and massages your wrists for you when you're freed from your restraints. Dusts your clothes off for you, too. Though, you're wondering if what you think is a needlessly thoughtful action is just an excuse for him to feel you up.

"Let's get out of this basement, yeah? It's much better upstairs. Promise." He says, gently holding onto your hand. His are covered in bruises and small wounds. Butterflies are taking flight like fighter jets in his stomach.

When you stand up, Matthew pauses for a bit, violet eyes raking over your figure.

"Sorry, I just–" He starts, before cutting himself off by quickly stepping closer to you and encasing your body in a hug. He trembles and lets out a shaky breath, tightening his hold.

"I missed you so much," His voice cracks, "So happy you're here. Really. I feel like I'm on top of the world having you all to myself. You're all mine, finally."

Matthew takes in a sharp, obstructed breath. "Ugh, I–" He pulls away and his voice sounds all wet. He's crying. If you weren't so woozy, you would have scolded him when he wipes his face with his dirty jacket sleeve. Even now, you care about him, and maybe that's why he's fallen so helplessly in love with you.

He feels like he's shriveling into himself when all he does is simply breathe and what comes out is a sniffle. It's shameful, to boast about being a changed, stronger man, only to fall apart with a hug.

Wordlessly, he gulps his insecurities down his scratchy throat and grabs your wrist, taking you up the dusty wooden steps and leaving the basement. He does this with such little care it surprises you a little. It forces you to come to your senses in order to not stumble over your own heavy feet.

The actual interior of the house is much less industrial-looking than what you'd assumed from the basement. Rustic is the first word to pop into your mind to describe this place. Cottagecore, like the trendy people say, but... with a whole lot less of that trendy factor. It definitely is comfortable, which is a relief considering the storm outside.

Oh.

Looking out the window makes you realize something dreadful. You were never scared of the dark, pitch-darkness, even, but the vantablack surroundings beyond the glass begins to shroud you in a shadow of realization; there is a total absence of light. There are no lights, there are no houses nearby, there is nothing. You were in the middle of nowhere. You glance down to Matthew's battered sneakers and mud-caked jeans, and wonder how much trouble they went through to get you here.

He senses your staring, and looks to you, following your gaze and flushing.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. This is no outfit for a reunion as important as this." He laughs sheepishly, weakly. He had managed to swallow his tears, with the only evidence left behind being his reddish waterline and nostrils.

"I'll, uh, I'll go change– Just sit down anywhere you'd like. Those drugs will take a bit to leave your system. I'll fix you something up to wash it down as soon as I'm back, sweetie." Matthew stays for a moment, gnawing on his lip like he's weighing something out in his mind, before deciding to just go for it. He leans in to quickly place a kiss to your temple, and despite his attempt at nonchalance, he lets out a thin, shaky breath, before scampering off into what you assume is his bedroom.

Still nauseated, you hobble over to the couch and collapse onto it with more grace than you expected. You spare only a few seconds before forcing yourself back up, making the most of your time alone to examine the area without the pressure of Matthew watching you.

You scan the room quickly, making note of any possible exits. There are only two in this living room. The window, and the lone door against the other side of the room. Nearing and examining the window, you quickly find that it has a keyed lock, and rush over to the door.

Keyed, padlocked, deadbolted. God, he really went through the trouble of installing multiple of these. You could only imagine what his keyring looked like. You wonder if you could nab it.

A long-fingered hand clamps over your shoulder, digging into your collarbones and pulling you back. It's over so quickly you don't even have time to complain and yell about the pain.

"What do you wanna eat?" Matthew asks sweetly. His voice, though recognizable, is different from the way you remember it. His signature softspoken-ness is still there, but it's hoarse, slightly deeper. Maybe it's because he started smoking, but no cigarette can be owed the credit of the subtle confidence in his tone– Maybe not confidence, but some sort of certainty.

Your irises tremble slightly at the startle as you return his stare, before gulping and answering. "...Anything's fine."

"Pancakes it is." He shrugs, a small smile on his lips. As he walks to the quaint kitchen, he pulls a black hair tie off of his bony wrist and begins tidying his wavy, honey blond locks into a low ponytail. His hair's grown so much since you last saw him, and you can't help but think it suits him well.

It's not just his hair, the rest of him has grown, too. Matthew's gained a few inches of height, though he looks slimmer than before. You're unsure if he lost weight, or if his height just makes him look thinner than he actually is. He's aware of it, that he looks slightly worse for wear, but he couldn't help but lose his appetite being away from you for so long. He'll gain it back eventually to look good for you. I have to, he tells himself.

Now that he's rid of his jacket and clad in just a loose, plain graphic shirt, you get a better look of the wounds on his arms. It's mostly around his knuckles and palms, maybe he's clumsy, maybe he does a lot of physical labor, those are strangers to you, but you're familiar with the thin scars on the inside of his wrists. They're faded and old now, thank god, but you remember the long teary nights in college you'd spend trying to convince him not to hurt himself just because you couldn't spend time with him that week. You made him promise he wouldn't do it anymore, and judging by the lack of fresh wounds, he's kept his word. Though those memories make your head throb, you feel slightly proud.

You wobble over to the couch, deciding to take a seat to try and soothe the nausea bubbling about inside you. You remember those red plaid pajamas he's wearing, too. Always wore them whenever you came over. You wince as another wave of pain ripples through your skull, and you wonder if he's purposefully dressed himself like that to remind him of his most favorite time in his life, one that he thought was yours too.

That smell of butter, vanilla, and syrup doesn't help. While your stomach does respond to the smell, you can't help but think of Matthew first before the food. He always smelled faintly of maple syrup, along with hints of lavender and men's shower gel. His old apartment reeked of it. You never thought such an innocuous scent could bring you so much irritation.

Matthew glances behind him, finding your zoned out, furrow-browed stare.

"Your head hurting real bad?" He calls out from behind his back, focusing on the current stack of pancakes he was building by the stove.

"Yeah," You say under your breath. You're not sure why you even bothered responding if you knew you were gonna answer so silently. A part of you felt it rude had you just been unresponsive, but good god, forget the formalities, he'd kidnapped you!

After a few more moments of head-clutching silence, Matthew arrives, sitting on the couch and placing a plate of pancakes on the wooden coffee table in front of you.

"Come on now, you should eat. You've been knocked out for a while, you're about to miss lunch and dinner." He says lightly, a faint sternness in his voice, like he were speaking to a child. You scoff feebly.

"Nah, I... I don't really feel like eating." Despite the apparent hunger pangs in your stomach, you feel terribly sick in the throat, like you were constantly on the verge of retching. As much as you wanted to down the food he's prepared for you, just the thought of eating makes you gag.

He lets out a small laugh. "Want me to feed you?" Scooting closer, he leans down and tilts his head to get a better look at your pallid, gloomy face, heavy with queasiness. You're still so beautiful, he thinks.

You shake your head adamantly at that, immediately regretting it at the dull pain that amounts from the action. "No, no, I'm alright, Mattie," You bite your tongue when you realize you've called him by that stupid nickname again. "I feel like I'm gonna throw up."

He can't help the cheesy expression on his face and the way his heart flutters at the nickname. "It'll get worse if you don't eat." He pouts. "Come on, at least five bites." He picks up a fork, already slicing a small bit for you, and holding it up to your mouth.

You look at it with a small frown and wince in your expression, and his eyes darken.

"I'll tell you where one of the keys are if you eat."

Those words grab your attention immediately, and haplessly, you take a bite of the pancake he offers you. Matthew lets out an airy giggle.

"I remember you used to complain so much about this. Whenever I tried to feed you." He says with a pointy, wistful smile. "You've changed a lot over the years. Still so in love with you, though." His gaze is heartbreakingly warm.

You look at him, heart stopping in your chest for a moment at how sincerely he's looking at you. His heart does the same, but just at the mere action of you meeting his eyes, acknowledging his existence.

"You too." You say simply, despite your thoughts being so much more than those two words imply. When his cheeks redden and his lips gape, you quickly correct yourself. "Uh, that you've changed. Not that I love you." He huffs a dry chuckle.

"Figured, but I wanted to believe it." Matthew cuts up another piece of the pancake and offers it to you. You bite, and his blush only darkens. While you're chewing, he speaks again.

"You're not wearing that bracelet I made you anymore." He makes a sad face.

You swallow, "It's in my apartment. Felt too bad to throw it away." The light returns to his lavender eyes and he grins warmingly at you.

The bracelet is simple, a thin twist bracelet made with red thread, all entwined together with love. Matthew gave it to you during a morning class, blushing and stuttering. He made one for himself, too, like the red string of fate, he giggled when he said this, lovingly looking at the matching bracelets around your wrists. Now that your vision was less foggy, you can now see that what you thought was a wound was actually that same bracelet around his wrist. The color has faded slightly, more dull with dirt and age, while yours is still as vibrant as the day he gave it to you. It's a shame he didn't nab it when abducting you.

"You still care about me." He grins, almond eyes sparkling with mirth.

"To my own detriment." You smile emptily at him, taking the fork from his grasp and quickly eating the rest of what you owe him.

"The key?" You remind him, and he seems like a lost puppy for a moment, before it hits him, his pointy-fanged grin widening. He chuffs bashfully, as if a secret of his had been revealed, before he answers, awfully joyous; "Oh, I was lying." He laughs almost childishly.

A feeling of cold dread and shame drips from your head and down your shoulders. Of course, why did you assume so easily that he'd just hand that to you on a silver platter? At the same time, of course you would, he's Matthew Williams, the same man who gave you his coat and paid your bus fare the first time you two met. He insisted you kept it, said it suited you better and he's got hundreds more like it anyways. You did, you kept using it over the years even when you graduated. You used it this morning, maybe that's why it was so easy for him to recognize you. Your gullibility strikes you with chagrin and you can only retaliate by pushing back.

"What? We made a deal. Why would you lie to me?"

Matthew's usually docile expression falls, and suddenly you feel like you genuinely have no idea who this man is anymore, and you regret thinking that you could just walk all over him and out that door like you did all those years ago.

"Do you think you have any control over this situation, sweetie?" He crawls closer, palms dipping the couch cushions. "Did you really think I'd guard you so loosely? After all these years?" The collar of his shirt hangs from his neck as he leans down, collarbones prominent. "Did you think I'd let you leave me again? Stupid." He spits, though it seems like the final insult was more directed towards himself than you.

You scoot back until your back hits the armrest, and before you can try and slide off the couch, a lithe arm cages you in.

"It tore me up, ripped me to shreds and I came back a different person, but the only thing that stayed, that didn't change, was my love for you– No, my love for you is what broke me in the first place. Please, god, just soothe me a little." Matthew's voice crescendos until it cracks, hysterical expression making you relive the hell that was your college days together.

"Just love me a little." He whimpers weakly, before pressing a desperate kiss to your lips, moaning in surprise as if he wasn't the one to kiss you first. It's short, brief, like it zaps him, too much for his poor racing heart to handle. The bright smile returns to his face when he pulls away, breathless. It stays despite the horrified look on your face.

"Why are you so disgusted? You already tasted plenty of me in those pancakes. You looked so cute eating up my spit." He teases, his glee evident in his voice, the loose strands of his hair tickling your face. The realization of what you had just consumed, what now sits heavily in the pit of your stomach, was something of his, makes you dizzy with abhorrence. You try to push him off, but he slams your shoulder back into the cushions, hands vice-like and heavy against your skin.

Matthew is panting, and when he catches his breath, his eyes widen and his irises shake. You can see his pupils contract and dilate. "I'm sorry, I-I'm sorry– Didn't mean to– Ah, merde." He whimpers, dropping his head to the crook of your neck. He's already reduced to a groveling mess, and you've barely said anything. "Please love me, I didn't mean it, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I love you!" He cries, and you hate that you really do feel sorry for him.

You hate him, hate the shit he keeps putting you through, hate how soft his voice is, hate how pathetic he is, hate how reliant he is on you, hate seeing his tears. You hate how he still manages to pull pity from you despite everything he's put you through.

With a shriek through gritted teeth, you fist his shirt and yank him down, this kiss is intended, and definitely felt like, more akin to an act of harm over love, but poor Matthew can't tell the difference.

He melts into it with a loving sigh despite his bleeding lips.

┊͙✧˖*°࿐

[dapper-lil-arts]

If Rainbow Dash had whatsapp 🤣🤣🤣

[deoidesign]

Hello! I just discovered your blog and I immediately became captivated by your webcomic, but I'm unsure where to read all of it. I know it's on Webtoons, but I can see it hasn't been updated for a while, and you still post about it.

Are your physical novels just prints of the webcomic? Are they a continuation? Is the story complete? Thanks in advance!

Hi there!

Glad you found me and are enjoying my comic!

It's only on webtoons, and the story is not complete yet! We're 2/3 of the way through right now. It's currently on hiatus, and it's scheduled to come back in about 2 months!

I'll explain why it's been so long if you're curious, but also for my followers who might also be wondering about it under the cut. Sorry, it's pretty much just me complaining haha

I took a month off I took 2 months to get the books printed I took a month to prepare my next comic and I took 2 months to write the rest of the series (I knew the character arcs I wanted, but not the time periods or mysteries!!!) I've been working on actual episodes since then

I had to take some time off because of some pretty extreme burnout due to the sheer amount of work it was to draw over 800 pages and write 6 complete stories in a year and a half... I was getting sick almost weekly due to the overwork, it was really really bad honestly. I was having to work 60+ hours every week just to keep up...

The nature of the comic itself is also difficult... Each of the arcs is a complete, self contained story which can be read (ideally) without context, and my arcs need to be about 10-13 episodes each... And since I have an exact number of episodes to work with, it's even harder.

It takes a ton of planning and a ton of refinement, and working week to week with no breaks I was forced to put out second or even first drafts, so I just wasn't happy with the work I was doing... And to do that for the rest of the series? I wouldn't be proud of the work I did.

Plus... To be entirely honest, webtoon has treated me quite badly IN MY OPINION... They deprioritized me before I launched (I had to beg for more promotion, I'm not exaggerating), they outright denied me the opportunity to even ask for a raise, I don't make any money on fast pass and they pay me less than my partner makes working at trader joes. My first editor left me completely hanging, my second editor (who I loved) was fired... And they told me I wouldn't get a third season before my first season even finished. So it was just repeatedly completely demoralizing.

I'm sorry it has taken so long, it'll have been 10 months by the time I come back. But I realized... I won't get promotion either way. I won't get more episodes either way. I won't get more money either way. So to finish everything, to make it feel good, to make it something I'm proud of, I chose to take longer to make it better.

I am fully aware I will lose a significant amount of my readership for this and it might genuinely affect my career moving forward. But it's what I had to do! So I'm sticking to my guns on it, and I'm confident long term it'll be worth it. It never could have been this good if I didn't take this much time.

[morrigan-sims]

How tf do people light outdoor renders???? Especially at night???? Someone save me. I'm dying over here, and it looks terrible.

[phoenixcatch7]

Man I am just SO CONFUSED. About the time line of this game.

No one is telling me how long links been gone! Or how long the botw-totk timeskip was! They all just started selling my stuff again lol. I'm going to have to get everything redyed!

Me: hey random stranger! Lore dump? You look like a lore dumper.

Kindly npc: why hullo there, link ^^! My, I haven't seen you in a while since the calamity ended! I was so worried when they said you and the princess had gone missing! But it's good to see you're well.

Me: aw, thanks. How long has it actually been tho.

Kindly npc: ^u^

[memento-morri-writes]

It's been well over a week now (maybe two??) but I'm still plugging away (ever-so-slowly) at this vignette about Zara and Rook. Zara's POV is a lot of fun to write, now that I have a better sense of her character. Writing this has really solidified in my mind the kind of person she is and how she acted when she was Rook's captain and mentor. She's very calm and collected in comparison to Rook, even when under a lot of stress.

Anyways, have a little snippet that I'm proud of from today, featuring the origins of the coin trick!

Pacing back and forth across her cabin floor, she rolled the coin back and forth over her knuckles again and again. The motion was easy, almost mindless, more muscle memory than real intent. The coin trick had been her favorite way to soothe her nerves for years now. She’d picked it up out of idle curiosity after watching a street performer dining in a tavern in Bon Largo, who had chatted with her for over an hour as she fretted about something mundane, never once dropping the coin from their fingers. The same performer had later tried to steal her coin purse and ended up with nothing but a new scar for their trouble, but Zara had learned two important things from the encounter: Not to trust a warm smile and a pretty face, and that keeping her hands moving kept her mind from dwelling too much on worrisome things.

one-time tagging @space-writes because they commented on my tags about Rook learning the coin trick from Zara in one of my other snippets from this piece.

[seaofreverie]

The Me who bought tickets to see TMBG in february 2023 and the Me who's going to actually go to the show next month are two completely different people

[talesofwhimsy]

WHY?, “Sin Imperial" // Car Sear Headrest, “I Can Play the Piano”

[dandyshucks]

putting myself through art bootcamp LMAO, here's my progress so far,,,,

i have No clue what im doing but im figuring things out !!! probably not the most efficient way to go about this but im having fun so i think it works well enough for me :3

[catboydan]

fiance got me a kindle for my birthday <3

[altruistic-meme]

i want to get started on the Full Hands List but i am waiting on my apartment people for scheduled maintenance and i don't really want to start until they leave but i also have no idea what time they'll make it to my apartment so we're just playing the waiting game now

[autistic-shaiapouf]

FINALLY bought con tickets 👁👁

[imwritesometimes]

deleting the playlist is the official nail in the coffin like. it's over. it's over now.

[todayisafridaynight]

SO FUNNY I was just about to write in complaining that I got sick a day after you posted your last comic... I caught it... yet I don't have an Arakawa to take care of me... [<- I started writing this when you answered my last ask]

OH BUT NO WORRIES AT ALL I always love reading your responses and these were no exception :) It really means the world to me to have you guys listen! I believe I've [probably] mentioned the headcanon is a bit personal [In Other Words projection galore but. Believable Enough. Please DO dare to think... It'll work out...]; I was more or less expecting to keep it to myself forever because I felt the Venn Diagram of people who would know what I'm talking about and be interested had no overlap. I'm incredibly grateful to be able to have these talks and the assurance that's not the case :) and also I just kinda don't wanna Mansplain Jo To You so I'm glad that doesn't seem to be the case as well

AND I MEAN... LOL... LMAO EVEN...

it would be a pretty fair to pursue that line of thinking given he has both visible symptoms of sleep deprivation and things to lose sleep over... reminded of Debt [TWISTING AND WAILING AND CONVULSING] but also the counterpart to Matrophobia you were thinking about...

I absoluuuutely get what you mean by the mirror thing too I see you in the kitchen I smell what you're cooking... same here... very excited to see what he's like when he doesn't have to be a bullet as well... here are those for the sake of completion [If I May I think perhaps he wouldn't feel the need to change his name, just feel a disconnect if it's his father's family name and/or his given name was chosen by his father. Like an ambivalent Aoki I guess; he knows he'll answer to it so why fix what ain't broke and "inconvenience others"...]

SORRY FOR RAMBLING MYSELF HGLDJLKDJG again No Worries At All since you shouldn't be saying much with your Gameritis anyway... I hope your wrist gets better soon, rest up and take care!

NOT MY SILLY COMIC GIVIN YOU THE FLU (;´༎ຶД༎ຶ`) hope youre doin better now gettin sick SUCKS (╯x╰ )

oh but yaya of course : i have a cockroach for a brain so im glad star can supplement a lot more valuable commentary (╯▽╰ ) even if i have bugs for brains im still happy to see what you (and star should they write again) have to say :)

[hxney-lemcn]

Passionate Hearts — Overblots x gn! reader

summery: what making out with the overblots is like.

tw: steamy-ish, this is as steamy as I'll ever get (not much at all lmao)

a/n: idk where this came from. Idek how good this is. I don't even like writing steamy stuff so this kinda reads more artistic somehow?? Idk

wc: 1.3k (~ 185 per character)

Master List

❥ Riddle Rosehearts

How uncouth of him. He can’t seem to stop you as you continue to enchant him with your lovely kisses. Riddle is nothing but a lovesick fool when it comes to you, and it becomes apparent as your kiss becomes more fervent. He’s a blushing mess as you seem to be unable to pull away. His heart is a stuttering mess, and he never wants you to stop. No matter how passionate your kisses become, it's still gentle. The way he caresses your face is soft, his lips caressing yours so lovely that you feel weak in the knees. And when you pull away, finally getting your fill of his love, you both are a bit of a mess. Hair slightly disheveled, clothes a bit crooked, lips a bit puffy. You couldn’t complain though, it wasn’t every day that you saw the Heartslabyul housewarden so unkempt. Riddle also didn’t seem to mind so much, as long as you only do such actions behind closed doors. He doesn’t think he could handle the embarrassment if Ace or Deuce caught you both in such an intimate act.

❥ Leona Kingscholar

Unlike Riddle, Leona is ruthless when it comes to your more passionate moments. Fervent kisses turn wild with lips being bit and prodding tongues. It feels like you’re being devoured every time and you wouldn’t have it any other way. You had never seen him so passionate about something until he refused to let your lips part. He loved the way you felt, your soft lips puffy with abuse, hair tangled between his fingers. Leona was addicted to your taste and he isn’t shy about it. Sure, he is a bit lazy, beckoning you to come closer to him, but he’ll leave you breathless and wanting more by the end. It isn’t fair how unaffected he seems after he’s done, pulling you closer for a nap (he needed to re-energize after all that labor). His silky hair was barely rustled, his clothes as messy as they normally were. The only evidence of your actions was his slightly puffy lips. Don’t worry though, people know he’s yours with the way he’ll kiss you anywhere anytime. Leona isn’t afraid to put some runts in their place.

❥ Azul Ashengrotto

Azul has a love-hate relationship with the idea of kissing you. On one hand, he can’t live without your lips slotted on his, on the other…he hates how vulnerable he feels. Though that feeling dissipates quickly when he’s suddenly surrounded with you. Your touch, your smell, you love. He’s a greedy man and he’ll take any attention from you he can get. His kisses turn desperate quickly, like he’d die if you were to pull away. Azul is a bit more of a messy kisser than he’d like to admit. His desperation for your love overpowers any of his other thoughts and he finds himself scrambling for purchase, holding onto you for dear life. Azul looks at you with so much love when you pull away you feel like your heart is about to explode. As much as he’d like to continue, he forlornly concludes that you both can’t stay like this forever. Perhaps another time, you’re always welcome in his VIP room at the lounge after all…just make sure Jade and Floyd don’t notice your disheveled appearance as you exit. 

❥ Jamil Viper

It wasn’t often that Jamil indulged in such acts. Let himself be so vulnerable. But as you continued to leave sweet short kisses, he found his resolve crumbling. It scared him that you were able to make him give in so easily, but he trusted you, something that not many people had. His kisses feel a bit controlling, his hand pressed against the back of your neck keeping you in place. Jamil’s kisses are slow and deliberate. Every action has its purpose, and he loves to take his time and savor you. You find yourself hypnotized without his signature spell. Despite the deeply intimate act, he’s still tender with you. Jamil isn’t touchy with you often, so he’ll make sure you know how much he loves you. He hates to admit how he doesn’t want to stop, but his break is almost over. You’re more messy looking than he is at the end, and Jamil can’t help but look smug. People won’t catch you in the act, but it raises some eyebrows when you come out of Jamil’s room a little more messy than when you entered. 

❥ Vil Schoenheit

You lucky bastard. Another one that doesn’t indulge in such actions often. Vil doesn’t like to admit how much you get to him. The fact that he restrains from any physical affection with you mixed with how much he wants to drown you in love…yeah lets say he finds himself releasing his pent up emotions on your poor lips. He only allows such acts when you're both unwinding for the day, and you are not allowed to leave any evidence (he has an image to uphold). Vil kisses you with so much passion you’re left breathless with the first one, and he won’t hold up either. You seriously question his remark of you being his first partner because the way he kisses you makes him feel like an expert. He looks like a God (always) by the end. Eyes dilated, chest heaving, golden hair barely out of place (but enough to make your heart flutter, you did that). Once you both slow down, he’ll pepper your face with kisses wishing you a good night's rest as he plays with your hair…you're not sure if you could sleep after that. 

❥ Idia Shroud

You will always be the one to initiate such intimate acts. As much as he wants to, he’s too shy. An innocent kiss going a little farther as Idia couldn’t resist the temptation that was you. And as your lips locked, Idia found his nervous energy leaving him as his mind melted into a goop. His kisses are inexperienced, teeth clashing with yours (he didn’t mean too), but he’ll learn over time. He can be a fast learner, and who wouldn’t want to get some practice in? (Idia is more willing than you’d think). He gets a bit uncharacteristically confident the longer you two kiss. Pressing your lips together more firmly, shaking hands holding onto your figure, small whimpers swallowed by your awaiting mouth. Both of you are flustered beyond imagination by the end, warm cheeks and fast beating hearts, shaky breaths. Just like that, Idia finds himself short circuiting. You were just so amazing, lovely, warm…you were gonna kill him one day. Don’t even think of doing anything like that in public though, he might actually die (and cry and never go outside again). 

❥ Malleus Draconia

Every time you shared a kiss it would be one of passion. Malleus loves you so much he felt the need to express it, make sure you clearly understood how much you meant to him. But you would have to be the one to push further, as Malleus usually left it at one kiss, he wanted you to set the pace. He won’t back down if you continue to kiss him, his actions will become more possessive. Hands that cradled your cheeks move to the back of your head, his kisses becoming more hungry. He basks in your warmth, in your love, in your being. He loses himself in you, and he internally thanks you for allowing himself to indulge in your love. Malleus isn’t foolish enough to think it's appropriate for such actions to be indulged in with others present…but he also finds himself uncaring. He loves you, and if you wish it, who was he to deny? (Sebek will be so stunned that he can’t get any words out). Not to mention how exhilarating to see the fae prince’s composure shattered. Pink cheeks, dilated eyes, puffy lips…oh what a sight indeed.

[lumibuns-blog]

Ghost x Soap's roomie

Ghosts and Gaz stay the week and Soap's apartment. Ghost falls head over heels for you and can't seem to think of anything else.

its just two idiots in love at this point and also Soap and Gaz are there too lmao. I have more for this concept on my page or under the tag if you like it💪

Dinner was finished quicker than Simon would have preferred considering he still couldn't get the image of your sly smile out of his head, not to mention the piece of food he was sure was stuck in his throat from the laughing fit you had sent him and Gaz into with your well timed nut-tap. You were intoxicating to him, it was almost insufferable how unable he was to get your voice, your face, your figure, everything, out of his head. He could swear that he's never felt this way before about anyone, ever. It was like the moment he set eyes on you, his mind had made itself up and all he could do was let himself fall even further and further in love with you.

So he now watched as you forced a very upset Soap to do the dishes, not without great effort.

"aw 'bon why tha' hell do I have'ta do this shite it's fuckin feechie" he whined

"'cause I do the cooking, that's the deal we have" you bit back "plus, I've cleaned our bathroom before" you turned to face both Simon and Kyle, Simon couldn't help but notice he was the one you locked eyes with "you wanna see nasty, use the shower when he's finished" you sighed

"oye! Not fair" Johnny warned, an accusing finger pointed towards you "you shed more than a hound when 'ure in there, ya clog the damn drain"

"excuse me! I clean up after myself at least, any hair you find in there is yours!" you yelled back, clearly embarrassed

"nae, ma' hair ain't long with split ends, er' whateva' the hell 'ure always moanin' 'bout in there"

you had half a mind to hit him across the face for that, "I don't know, hairs getting a little long there princess" you teased, gesturing to his grown out mohawk "need to get it trimmed? or you worried they might leave you looking bald again like last time?" you grinned

"awe no way!" Gaz grinned "you got pictures?" he ran over to you. Simon was curious too but didn't make a show of it, settling to sit back with his arms crossed instead, surveying the chaos.

"sure do" you beamed, ready to pull out your phone

"Naw naw!" Johnny scrambled to intercept his friend "nae happenin'"

you flung the phone behind you, out of his reach "then wash the fucking dishes man" you scoffed, shoving the sponge into his chest "thought they called you Soap for a reason?"

"feckin whatever" Johnny groaned, returning to the sink and flicking the tap on

you beamed and turned to head towards your room, calling out your dibs on the shower. Not before holding your phone up to Kyle and Simon, mouthing an 'I'll show you later' before slipping out of view.

"cheeky little mother fucker..." Soap mumbled, the half smile on his face turning into a look of disgust as he touched some wet food.

"so...." Gaz started after a moment "Never did decide where we 'going to be sleepin' mate?"

"well 've only got two beds" Johnny said, back turned to his friends "an' mine can only fit one a you's plus ma'self" he continued "an' like -ell I'm not going to sleepin on 'ma own bed while 'm home , so one ya will have-tae take the couch" he paused "unless the other one wants to bunk up with 'er" he laughed

Simon froze simply at the idea, suddenly incredibly uncomfortable in his slacks at the thought of being right up next to you while you rested. If you were closer would be be able to put his hands of you? trace the contours of your waist with his finger tips, burry his nose in the back of your head and wrap his hulking arms around your smaller figure? Feel the curve of your ass as you pressed against-

he bit the inside of his cheek and gripped the counter top so hard his knuckles turned white, "I'll take the couch" he huffed "'ure smaller anyway" he gestured to Kyle

"Whateva' mate" Gaz rolled his eyes, taking his friends jab in stride.

You had claimed dibs of the shower first because you were well aware that three, probably filthy, men (all of which had to be over 6 feet) were bound to need to use it as well and it would be pointless to try and wash your hair after that disaster.

"I'm done!" you called absentmindedly from the hallway, a towel wrapped around your body, wet hair sticking to your neck and back. Simon had found a very interesting part of the ceiling to focus on while you went back to your room, "try to not blow the thing up, I've got a down payment on this thing" you said, closing the door behind you.

silence fell over the room once again, as all three men glanced between themselves. Gaz was first, he took off at a run towards the bathroom door, determined to be second. Soap started off not more then a moment after him,

"aye ya prick, it's my house this?!" he grabbed for Gaz who held on steady to the door

"exactly mate! we're the guests!" Kyle chided "so be a good host 'an bugger off!"

"Nae 'm not lettin' you's skimp me outta a hot shower" Soap yelled attempting to pull Gaz back, but the man had such a a tight hold on the door he might've pulled out the hinges first.

you reopened the door after hearing the chaos, still in only a towel "the hell is-?" you were cut off almost immediately by ghost stepping in, he grabbed them both by the back collars of their shirts with what seemed like minimal effort, and pulled them off each other.

"Gaz you go first," he growled "Johnny, at least finish drying the bloody dishes before you go runnin' off" he shoved your roommate back into the kitchen

"Lt.! 's no fair he's goin' first! Why do you get to decide?" Soap griped

"on base 'er not, 'm still in charge." Simon said plainly, narrowing his eyes towards his friend, "just be lucky I'm the one yellin' at you for tusslin' around inside"

"In 'ma own home!" Johnny threw his hands up in defeat as Gaz pumped his fist before closing the bathroom door.

for a moment, your eyes met Simon's as you peaked from behind your door and they lingered there. His gaze was so was piercing as he glared from above his mask, that he had (unfortunately) put back in after dinner. His eyes only remained that way for a moment however, for as soon as they met yours, they softened. The harsh lines fell away instantly and his pupils began to dilate when they met yours, not aware you had been watching the whole ordeal.

'why did his eyes have to be so pretty?'

He coughed quickly, tearing his gaze from you before returning to the kitchen himself. Leaving you awe struck, fanning your face behind the closed door of your room.

When it was finally time for him to take a shower, Simon allowed himself a moment of respite in the bathroom before actually cleaning himself off. Away from Johnny's teasing glances and their incessant banter that he hated to admit he had come to be too fond of to reprimand them for, and they knew that all to well. Above all else though, it was a moment to internally process seeing you in nothing but a towel because when he had tried to think it over out there, the evidence of that was all too noticeable. You had looked so fucking good, wet hair, glossy skin, that towel that did absolutely nothing to cover up the swell of your tits as you pressed it to your chest. Even the simple fact that your cheeks still flushed from the heat of the shower sent his whole body into overdrive.

'shit- right, the shower.'

He broke from his thoughts to finally enter the shower but that did nothing to aid him in his situation. On the ledge was your shampoo and various other soaps, much like how your side of the sink was covered in various products and bottles he couldn't name even if he tried. Johnny's side had a toothbrush that was joined by Gaz's wash bag, and that was it. In the shower however, he only saw what were clearly your products. He grumbled and opened the door just a crack,

"Either 'a you got any shower gel?" He yelled through the crack, rather embarrassed at his current situation, "lef' mine at base."

"jus' use 'er's!" Johnny called back from his spot on the couch "'s what I do anyway..."

"You what?!" you yelled from across the flat

"dumbass" Kyle scoffed

"kidding, kidding!" Johnny laughed "Mines the one with the green lid mate, ya don' see it?"

"Fuckin hell...neva'mind!" Ghost responded, closing the door again. He swore he wasn't seeing straight. It didn't help that the whole bathroom already smelt like you, your intoxicating scent invading every breath he took. But to use your products? That was some shit couples do, and he had to stop his mind from getting away from him with that fantasy.

Stepping into the shower once more he located Johnny's soap. Spring rain?, no fucking wonder he hadn't noticed it, who would've thought Soap would use something like this? He quickly washed himself and got dressed, rubbing his hair dry with a towel as he exited the bathroom.

You stood in the kitchen, a large sweatshirt dwarfed your frame. You seemed to be waiting for the kettle of the stove to heat up as you noticed his presence.

"oh I can take that" you smiled, walking over to him and holding out your hand to take his towel from him.

He very reluctantly gave it to you, worried it would smell bad or have something gross on it he hadn't even realized. "was just about to start another lode anyway" you chimed, opening up the closet door and throwing it in the machine before starting it.

Simon couldn't help himself "Colors I'm assuming?" he joked

you whipped around to face him "Now don't you start" you scolded, but the smile and deep red of your cheeks was unmistakable, "Johnny's enough to deal with on his own" you headed back to your kettle

"'m sorry, I'll try to be less of a pain in the arse to ya than he is" Simon chuckled

"that's a low bar" you laughed dully "but thank you"

Simon found conversation to flow freely with you, like it does with the rest of his team but only after he had gotten close to them. He had only known you for a day but still found it so natural to speak to you (if he ignored the deafening sound of his heartbeat and the massive lump in his throat).

"want any tea?" your offer broke the silence as you grinned and held up the now boiling kettle.

"uh- sure" he nodded, was his heart getting louder?

you tossed open one of the cupboards "pick your poison" you chirped, gesturing the stocked shelf of teas.

he rounded the island to inspect the selection, peering over you in such a way that his form eclipsed yours and forced you to move back against the counter top. You held your breath.

"'ere" he handed a small tin containing a non-caffeinated herbal blend down to you and stepped away "is it any good?" he asked, pointing lazily at the tin that you now held.

you tried to shrug your flustered feelings away "Better be, 's what I'm having" you turned to grab him a mug from the shelf.

Simon smiled to himself at the knowledge he picked the same type of tea as you purely by coincidence. Moments later you were handing it to him, "here ya go Ghost" you said placing the hot mug in front of him

"Simon." he responded plainly

"Hm?" you tilted your head a bit

"Simon's fine, ya don't need to be calling me that 'Ghost' shit 'ere" he was staring holes into the kitchen island, wondering if it was weird for him to be asking you to call him by his given name.

"Alright, Simon it is then" you beamed, not missing a beat

christ his name sounded so good when you said it

"sorry guess it was just habit, seeing as thats what Johnny calls you whenever he's home"

"'s fine" he mumbled, a brief pause hung in the air as you both took your first sips of tea. You were right, it was good.

"where they at anyway?" Simon tried to fill the silence

"probably giggling under the covers by now" you scoffed "why? trying to get rid of me?" you joked

"'s not it" Simon answered quickly

"I know I know- I'm just teasing" you smirk "Johnny told me you were a bit quiet so don't feel pressured to talk 'er anything"

He appreciated the sentiment, but not talking to you was possibly the last thing he wanted to do right now. "What else does the little twat say?" Simon asked, a little gruffer than he intended to sound, but his reputation was on the line here.

"Oh just stories from all the dangerous stuff you all get up to, usually the ones where he can say he was the hero" you fully laughed and it sounded like music to Simon's ears "That and he complains about all the work he has to do, usually when he wants to get out of chores"

"sounds 'bout right" Simon smiled lightly and you could have sworn it was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen.

At least you didn't think he was some sulking, menacing, edge-lord. I mean he most certainly was most times but he would really prefer it if you didn't think of him like that. Now he just had one more thing to clear up.

"jus' so ya know... I- I didn't use your body wash" he practically had to shove the words out of his mouth he was so tense, but to his surprise you just laughed.

You smiled brightly and waved your hand dismissively, "Don't worry I didn't think you had, I don't blame you for not finding his soap though" you held your mug close to your chest and smiled fondly "He used to use that Head and Shoulder's stuff, you know the one? Anyway, it was nasty so I got him some better stuff and he actually likes it, even if he complains he smells 'like a chick' now" you put that last part in air quotes.

"fair", the soap Simon used on base was Head and Shoulder's. He made a mental note to throw it out and get better stuff the second he got back.

Conversation flowed freely for the next couple minutes as you both finished your drinks, you mostly asked about what it was like living on a military base and he asked about a bit about your graduate studies. Happy just to learn anything about you. When you set your empty mug down on the kitchen counter, he silently glided over with his own and took your mug in his other hand, filling them with water in the sink.

"you really don't have to do that, but thank you" you smiled softly, a yawn escaped you, feeling the tiredness begin to catch up with you.

"don't mind it" he dried his hands off with the kitchen towel. When he looked back at you his heart swelled. you were smiling lightly in the dimly lit kitchen, eyes squinting from even that being too much light. You swayed back and forth slowly, heading nodding slightly every couple of moments. He felt bad for keeping you up but more than that he wished he could just pick you up and whisk you off to bed, curling up next you you and letting you snuggle into his chest. But there was no way he could do something like that, not now anyway, so he settled for the next option

"you look like you're about to fall over love, off to bed now" he said, his voice quiet and gentle as patted you on the back and steered you towards your room.

"aye aye captain" you lazily saluted him and he couldn't help but smile "let me know if ya need anything" you called from the hall "night!"

"yeah g'night" he groaned, shoving himself onto the couch that was much too small for him. He would rather freeze than make you get up to get him another blanket or something. And even though he felt perfectly comfortable he couldn't seem to get to sleep, his heart was just too loud.

*I might make Price come over to give the boys something they left behind just so he can meet/flirt with reader and Simon and get all grumpy and jealous cuz it would be cute <3

Tags:

@sleep101 @urbimom @noisydelusionlove @plk-18 @pinkyfqiry @wwe1rdc0re @vmaxis @jenlvr01 @lovelovelovelovelove987654321 @ifsunmibts @callmeluno @nina-from-317 @strawberrygateau @leryg0 @weemansoap @dreamtofus @imjustheretofightforlove @electricmentalitypersona