#I actually do not notice this stuff so it's not intentional its just my hand doing as it does

[hajihiko]

sorry if I phrase this wrong, I have a bad habit of doing that lol

First of all, UR THE BEST!!!! I love love love ur art so much and it makes me so many mushy ways and makes me ooper happy and whenever I’m having a bad day I look at ur art and I feel better. The way u draw is so… yay.

anyway, with that out if the way, I have a itty bitty question. I’ve noticed that a lot of the time you e drawn post game Mikan with a flatter chest. I was wondering if you have a specific head canon about that or if that’s just the way you like to draw her? Might be a weird question, but I was thinking abt it and didn’t see any harm in asking.

have a lovely day!!!

no i just legit think about women without a bra most of the time. If you don't wear a bra, your chest is gonna be way less pronounced. I like to imagine the ppl on the island being comfortable enough that they dot bother with that kind of thing

[jexnkookie]

The Law of Attraction (Lawyer!Jung Kook x Reader) [Part 1]

Story Synopsis: Throughout his life, Jung Kook has only ever loved one girl. Despite her being out of his league and of an elite class that he wasn't born into, he fell hard, keeping his feelings a closely guarded secret. When they parted ways, and Jung Kook pursued his law career, he did so with the intent of moving on. But when she unexpectedly arrives back into his life, Jung Kook finds himself once again face to face with his own insecurities, and the girl of his dreams.

Story Rating: M (18+) [Language, sex, depression, alcoholism] Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut

Characters/Pairings: Lawyer! Jung Kook x Reader (feat. Jimin x Reader)

Chapter Word Count: 2.6k

Authors Note: I have this listed as "part one", because I may want to continue it in the future! This is just an idea that I've had floating around in my head, and I really haven't been inspired to write more of my other story lately, so why not put this out? If you'd like more of this story, please let me know and I can possibly continue it, if it's something y'all are interested in!

(It got another part)

Next Chapter

Series Masterlist

New York City is always bustling on a Monday morning. Crowds of people piling onto the sprawling connection of subway, buses and sidewalks on their way for another week of hard work. Jung Kook was among them, wearing a discounted, freshly pressed suit, and a fresh cup of Starbucks coffee in his hand. AirPods in his ear, he let the newest pop playlist cover up the sound of the crowded street on his way to his new office. There was a little, barely noticeable pep in his step, hinting at his excitement for his first day. 

His office building was rather large, even by his own metrics. Coming from Seoul, Jung Kook was no stranger to towering buildings, but this fresh law office had something glistening about its structure. As he entered through the front rotating tour, scanning the pass in his lanyard to be let in, any seasoned attorney would quickly recognize the wide-eyed young man as an ambitious rookie. 

“Jung Kook!” A voice called out from across the lobby. Jung Kook stopped walking and looked up, scanning the room to see Mr. Kim Namjoon, one of the best defense attorneys he’s ever had the pleasure of meeting, greeting him with a dimpled smile. 

“Good morning, Mr. Kim!” Jung Kook responded, quickly making his way over to greet him. 

“Aish, Jung Kook. Call me Namjoon.” He smiled shyly. “We’ll be working together as partners, I won’t be just a mentor to you anymore. I want you to feel comfortable around me.” 

“Right, of course.” Jung Kook grinned. “Thank you for bringing me here, I’m really excited.” 

“That’s great to hear.” Namjoon’s voice was warm and sincere. “I wasn’t sure how’d willing you’d be to leave Korea, but I’m glad you’re here.” 

“Yeah, it um…” Jung Kook pauses, thinking to himself for a moment for the right words to say. “It was a move that was for the best.” 

Namjoon kept a smile on his face, but furrowed his brows just briefly as he read into the younger man’s explanation. Not wanting to press too much, he motioned Jung Kook to follow him to the elevator. They walked together with comfortable conversation, questions about Jung Kook’s move to the city and his commute. As the elevator took them high above the rest of the city, Jung Kook’s finger absentmindedly tapped on the coffee cup he held, jitters taking over. 

“We had a case come in that I think you’ll be perfect to help me with.” Namjoon said, leading Jung Kook to his new office overlooking the city. There was an unorganized set of case files already on the desk. “You can put your stuff here, please make this space your own. The case is centering a Korean family, actually, so I thought maybe the two of us could connect with them on that level. Wealthy family, they’ve been doing business in the States a long time. But the son of the founder just recently inherited the company, and he’s being accused of defrauding investors. I need you to look over the case, and tell me what you think.” 

Jung Kook nodded as he took his seat at his desk, opening up the file to read the defendant’s name, Park Jimin. The name sounded oddly familiar to him, but he brushed it aside as he read the details of the case. 

“…Coaxed into investments using fraudulent and misleading data and projections…” Jung Kook read out loud, under his breath, before looking up at Namjoon. “So, he allegedly massaged the numbers into looking bigger than they are, leading to an increase of investments.” 

“Hm.” Namjoon hummed, leaning against the door frame. “Then when the actual numbers came in, and they were nowhere close to what he had projected, he didn’t have the money to pay out. Now it’s our problem.” 

“Yeah, ok.” Jung Kook nodded. “I have some ideas but I’d like to ask him some questions.” 

“Perfect. I’ll give you his contact info, but he should be flying into the city tomorrow. He wants to meet with us anyways, he just needed a little time.” 

“For what?” 

“He recently got engaged.” Namjoon responded nonchalantly, scrolling through the contacts in his iPhone. “She comes from a wealthy family from Busan, apparently. Their fathers knew each other, since they’re both from the city..” 

“Oh, they’re both from my city, I knew his name sounded familiar.” Jung Kook acknowledged. “Since her family is wealthy, maybe I’ve heard of them, too. What’s her name?” 

“Aish, I can’t remember…” Namjoon thought for a moment. “Mr. Park mentioned her, and now my mind is blanking.” 

The two startled when Namjoon’s phone rang. Namjoon apologized before stepping out to take the client’s call, leaving Jung Kook with his case files to further review. The rest of the day passed for the new, young lawyer, buried in a mountain of papers and taking notes. Namjoon peeked into his office on occasion to bring him coffee, or chat, or ask him about the case. But it was a slow, calm first day. 

As was the next day, and the day after that. Jung Kook got into a routine as the weeks passed, feeling a growing sense of familiarity with the way that he was able to bury himself in his work. It was a nice way to briefly consume himself and chase away the loneliness of the last two years of his life. 

He slowly made friends at his new firm. Never the extrovert, he was shy at first and afraid to open up. But knowing Namjoon for several years gave him a foot in the door, and allowed him an entry way into conversations that he wouldn’t have had otherwise. They asked about his life back home, and never dug too deep when he gave vague answers. He appreciated that, and his colleagues grew to like the handsome young lawyer. 

Finally, on a Friday, as the week was winding down and Jung Kook was thinking of possible weekend plans, Namjoon quickly walked into his office after a brief warning knock to his door. 

“We have a surprise meeting with Mr. Park.” Namjoon explained. “He just flew in from Seoul with his fiancé, and called me to say they want to meet with us. They’ll be here in a few minutes, so grab your notes and meet me in the conference room.” 

Jung Kook’s eyes widened and he responded with a quick “ok”, before gathering up his collection of papers into a manila folder, and walking to meet Namjoon, stopping momentarily only to grab another quick cup of coffee to make sure he was alert. Being his first client meeting since joining the firm, he wanted to make sure he was at his best. 

Settling into the conference room, Jung Kook looked over his notes, and made sure to have a pen to write down anything he may need later. He could see a light reflection of himself in the wall of windows facing the rest of the office, which he used to make sure his hair and suit looked presentable. He was hoping that with the money he made off of this case, he could buy a new, nicer suit like the one he saw in a shop window that he passed by not long ago. 

His thoughts of a modest suit however were quieted by the presence of what he knew immediately to be his client walking down the office halls, nearing the conference room. Dressed in a luxurious, designer black suit and Louboutin loafers, Park Jimin was striking at first glance. He hid his eyes behind black sunglasses despite being indoors, and his dyed blonde hair complimented his glowing complexion and lush, pink lips. He looked expensive, the textbook definition of an heir. 

The woman by his side looked gorgeous, Jung Kook thought. She was also beautifully dressed, in a sharp, maroon pencil dress and heels, with sunglasses also covering her eyes. Her Chanel bag dangled off her shoulder, her head was down, and her hand was intertwined with Mr. Park’s as they walked.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Park.” Namjoon greeted with a bow as he opened the door for the couple. “How was the flight in?” 

“It was excellent, thank you. Please, call me Jimin.” Jimin responded, taking off his sunglasses, before turning his attention to Jung Kook. “Hello, I’m not sure we’ve met.” 

“Jeon Jung Kook. I’ve just recently been added to look over the case.” Jung Kook smiled, standing up from his chair to bow. “It’s a pleasure.” 

“Park Jimin.” Jimin introduced himself. “And this is my fiancé, Y/N.” 

Y/N. Jung Kook repeated in his head, his eyes widening. It’s not possible. 

You took off your glasses before bowing to Namjoon, and raised to meet Jung Kook’s eyes. Your expression matched his own, recognizing the man instantly. 

“Jung Kook?” You smiled warmly. “Jeon Jung Kook? Oh my God, what a small world!” 

“You two know each other?” Namjoon asked with a raised brow. He looked over at the young lawyer, who was staring at you with large eyes and parted lips. 

“Jung Kook is an old classmate of mine.” You explained to Namjoon and your fiancé. “We went to the same university ages ago, when we were still living in Busan.” 

This was Jung Kook’s worst nightmare unfolding right before his eyes. Here you were. You. Just as warm, beautiful, and personable as ever. Just as clueless as ever. It was amazing how you could be such an angel, but put him through so much pain, and not even know it. 

“How have you been?” You asked with an innocent, bright grin. “I haven’t seen you in so long!” 

“I-I’ve… been good.” Jung Kook stuttered, causing the other men in the room to look at him with growing suspicion. 

“Honey, I don’t know that you’ve ever mentioned a Jung Kook.” Jimin said in a sweet tone directed at you, while his eyes judgmentally looked Jung Kook up and down. Namjoon nervously watched the interaction, waiting to bud in at any opportune time. 

“We just had a couple classes together.” You explained. “Jung Kook, wasn’t it um…” 

“History.” He finished your sentence, quicker and more deadpan in his tone than what he meant to. “And our political science class.” 

“That’s right!” You nodded. “I remember you were always so smart, I guess it makes perfect sense you practice law now.” 

“We’re happy to have him on the team.” Namjoon interjected, walking over to Jung Kook’s side of the table. He noted how Jimin still seemed unsure of Jung Kook’s mannerisms, and wanted to press on with the meeting. “Let’s get started, I’m sure the two of you have plans for the evening.” 

Everyone took their seat, and Jung Kook stared at the blank notepad in front of him. He could feel Jimin’s eyes on him, but pretended not to be bothered. He scribbled down the date on the paper, desperate to not meet the client’s gaze. 

“So, we reviewed the case.” Namjoon began, seeing how Jimin’s death stare didn’t shake from Jung Kook as he spoke. “We think that we have an excellent shot at winning, and to be completely honest, we’re expecting the judge to throw the case out.” 

“That’s great news!” You said excitedly. “Honey, you’ve been so worried about this.” 

Jimin looked at you, his eyes softening and a soft smile appearing. He rested a hand on your thigh, and looked over towards Namjoon. 

“That is great news. Thank you, Mr. Kim.” 

“Jung Kook has been reviewing the case for several days now, and he put together a couple arguments that we’ll present to the court, and have this ordeal finished, so you can move on.” 

“Y-Yeah, so um…” Jung Kook started, the weight of everyone’s stare feeling heavy and thick in the air. He was careful to avoid your eyes in particular, sure that his reaction would be less than professional. “First of all, the numbers allegedly presented to investors were never your numbers, Mr. Park, they were the numbers that your father had supposedly projected. The suit is filed against you, not the company, so we can argue that you cannot be held personably liable for any losses. A-Also, there’s no um… There’s no physical evidence of these exact projections being shown that the plaintiffs presented so um… We could argue insufficient evidence.” 

If Jung Kook were brave, he’d look up from his notes to see the way you grinned at him with the same, beautiful smile he used to see walking across campus every day. If he were brave, he’d tell you how beautiful that smile, and the rest of you, have always been to him. 

If he were brave, he would’ve told you that a long time ago. But Jung Kook has never been brave. Not then, and definitely not now. Not when his client is shooting daggers at him from across the table, and a sparkling 24k gold and diamond on your finger reminds him of the thing he’s always known; you’re too good for someone like him. You deserve more. 

“I think that sounds like an excellent plan.” Jimin said calmly, eyeing the young lawyer up and down, before turning his attention to you. He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. “I think Mr. Jeon has this whole thing figured out. What do you think, darling?”

“I agree.” You blushed at your fiancé’s uncharacteristic public affection. “He’s always been so smart.” 

“It seems so.” Jimin responded. “In that case, I believe we can wrap up this check-in meeting. I’d like to take my love out to dinner tonight. It’s her first time in New York City.” 

“Is it?” Namjoon’s voice was pleasant but quick as he spoke. “Well, let’s not keep you two waiting. Thank you for coming in, and we’ll be in touch. Please, Mr. Park, don’t be afraid to reach out to either of us if you need anything.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Jimin said, getting up from his chair and helping you out of yours before bowing to the lawyers. 

“Jung Kook, it was so nice to see you.” You said, waving at him while Jimin placed a hand on your back to lead you from the room. “Thank you for working on this for us.” 

“O-Of course.” He bowed. “You two have a nice night.” 

With that, Jimin led you away from the room and down the office, and Jung Kook watched as he took your hand in his and caressed your skin with his thumb. It amazed him how even after all this time, seeing you with another man makes his chest ache. 

“So….” Namjoon’s irritable voice said, leaning against the table. “You want to tell me what the fuck that was about?” 

“It’s nothing.” Jung Kook responded quietly, cleaning up his papers to avoid making eye contact. “Just an old classmate.” 

“Nothing?” Namjoon asked with a scoff. “Our client just burned a hole through you with his glare the entire meeting, and you want to call that nothing?” 

“I want to go home.” Jung Kook said with growing frustration. “I promise, it’s nothing. It’s just been a hard first few weeks, ok?” 

Jung Kook was headed out the door quickly, when Namjoon grabbed his arm to make him stop for a moment.

“If something is going on with our client’s fiancé… if there’s a history there or whatever, you need to let me know so we can manage this. We can’t lose Jimin as a client, we’d both be out of a job. He brings in too much money.” 

“What, does he get into this type of shit a lot or something?” 

“What do you think?” Namjoon asks. “It’s part of the job, dealing with rich clients that have more money than sense. They didn’t teach you that in class? Or were you too busy ogling her?” 

“It’s really nothing.” Jung Kook said, this time more calmly through gritted teeth. “I just need to go home.” 

Namjoon sighed as Jung Kook left the room, and cursed his luck with the obvious situation under his breath. 

[rationaliity]

jing yuan, boothill, dan heng with a shorter s/o

you guys already know how this goes !! we're so back besties !! oh, boothill calls you shortie and a slight amount of angst in dan heng's. mention of yanqing because its jing yuan, duh. GENDER NEUTRAL READER !!

JING YUAN —

jing yuan isn't a man who really notices height compared to anything else that he might love and adore about you

but he's also not going to kid himself with it and say that he doesn't use it to his advantage at all ever

yeah, he'll tease you here and there about being shorter than him

and sometimes he'll put things high up on purpose so you have to call for him to help

or he'll watch you struggle to do it on your own, which is always amusing, even though he'll never let it go too far

you'll never hurt yourself because of his little jokes, this much he knows

and maybe he's sorry, but you always look so cute when you have to turn to him, pouting, and pointing up to the thing that you want

before asking him if he could reach it for you in such a little voice

how is he supposed to ever say no to you ?

no matter what he's doing in that moment, it could be the most important business that he has to attend to right that second

or the simplest of tasks that he was barely even paying attention to

and he would stop everything just to help you with whatever you needed

he'd give you that cheeky little smile, and hand you the item, his voice holding a gentle tone in it as he asks you what you would do without him

well, your stuff would be on the shelf that you could actually reach it, that's for sure

but you would also miss out on his stupid, small smile as he teased you a little bit

as per usual, jing yuan found himself swamped in duties. between being the general of the cloud knights and training yanqing, when does he ever really get time to himself ? that was a question he often pondered himself, although he was sure that if he spent less time thinking about how busy he was always, he would have more time to relax. but ah, sometimes it can't be helped at all. and that's okay. he signed up for this lifestyle the moment he became general, and that was just ultimately the truth.

although, today he did find himself exponentially luckier than he typically is. because today, he had you by his side, something that he found himself missing more often than not. he was so busy it was often hard for him to stay in one place for him to have you over, but today all of his duties neatly aligned him to one place for the majority of the time.

he found himself watching you wordlessly as you swung your sword, showing yanqing the perfect technique. " see, yanqing ? move your foot over a little more to the right, and don't slouch so much ! " you chastised gently, your hand smoothing over his back as you reminded him to keep his posture correct at all times. he didn't want to end up with a bad back because he had neglected to take care of himself, after all. " now, when you swing your sword, hold it steady. be careful where you strike, your every move needs to have an intention behind it. careful and merciless, strong and delicately intricate. do you understand ? "

after your teaching, you brought your own wooden sword up to him, practice sparring with him get him comfortable fighting against you. you'd made it a point to even have your hand behind your back, however.. perhaps you overshot yourself, and soon found yanqing's sword lodged in a tree. " er.. " you looked at it, sheepish as you glanced at yanqing, and then at jing yuan. " my love ? may i- "

before you could even finish, jing yuan was plucking the sword out of the tree, a content smile on his face as he looked at you and his precious student getting along so well. " of course, my dear, " he hummed in satisfaction, having just been looking for a chance to join in. " perhaps you wouldn't mind a third sword ? one that won't get stuck in a tree, if we're lucky. "

BOOTHILL —

first off lets just get it out of the way that he's going to call you shortie no matter how short you actually are

no matter whether you're just barely an inch shorter than him, or an entire foot shorter

you're ' shortie ' to him, no matter what. nothing you can say or do will change that, it's just your life now

he's going to do that fake comparing heights thing where he puts his hand to his forehead and then moves it straight across, and make it a big deal

he thinks its hilarious that you're shorter than him and it is comedy gold to him

you're just so... short, and cute. he can't help his immediate reaction is to tease the fudge out of you

plus, he thinks its so super funny whenever you pout and ignore him for a little while

he knows its not going to last a long time, so he'll let you have your temporary fun

especially since he knows exactly how its going to end, with you asking him to come help you, or ultimately completely forgetting anyways

usually, its latter, but sometimes, so very rarely, the comedy aeon shines on him, and allows him this perfect opportunity

he'll tell you he's sorry, after he makes it a point to obnoxiously bend down to give you a kiss on your forehead

but you'll take what you can get with him, honestly

" aeons above ! boothill, you're so mean sometimes ! " you announced, as if this were something new to the both of you, making the cyborg man chuckle a little with how silly you honestly sounded to him. " can't you give me a break just this once ? please ? " you sounded desperate, but he knew it was just an act for you to try to get him to leave you alone.

" well, fudge, when ya put it like that, i'll do anything ya want me to do, shortie, " boothill chuckled a little bit as he spoke, wrapping his incredibly heavy arm around your shoulder, making you struggle slightly just to attempt to pull him off of you. " ya sure do look cute like this, ya know that ? look atcha, the picture of fudgin' adorable ! "

you swore that if he didn't tell you he loved you so often, you would have no idea that he had any positive opinions towards you at all, much less romantic feelings of you. but this was boothill, and being playfully obtuse was just the game of the game for the space cowboy.

" you're the worst, you know that, boothill ? "

" mhm, but tell me again. "

you rolled your eyes, pulling away from him completely, with your arms crossed. " fine ! you're the worst, boothill ! now, if you'll excuse me, i'm going to go finish my night routine so i can go to bed properly, thank you. " with that, although you hadn't really said anything snarky back to him, you felt like you won this time, and pushed off on your heels to go finish getting ready for the night.

ten minutes later you've realized that you can't reach where you put your cleanser from when you had been cleaning up earlier today, although you were sure you had put it back on the sink where it usually was. you'd been on a stepstool cleaning up the top of the bathroom mirror, and had just been throwing things up on the shelves on the inside without thinking about it. karma's a son of a nice lady sometimes, aint she ?

" hey, boothill, baby ? " you called out from the bathroom in a squeaky little voice. when he arrived, all you did was quietly point at the cleanser, and he grabbed it for you with a light laugh. " thanks.. "

" what happened to me bein' the worst, shortie ? don't think i'm the worst when i can actually reach the top shelf. "

DAN HENG —

did not notice that you were shorter than him, and honestly did not care

not even a little bit, not even as a shameless realization that you needed him

i mean, sure, he loves feeling needed, but he appreciates it when you need his mind more than something arbitrary about him that he couldn't control

just like he knows that you appreciate it more when he likes you more than just your height, which is how he's always seen you

dan heng is a man who doesn't care about physical appearances even in the slightest bit

he will always love your mind more than your body, and that's just the truth

i can't think of a situation where dan heng would enjoy being taller than you, but he does enjoy when you need his help with matters

and there are times that being taller comes in handy, too

like when the two of you are out trailblazing, he's so quick to grab you and put you behind him at a moment's notice

using his entire body to shield you, and knowing that you were okay behind him

he will protect you at all costs, its just easier now that he doesn't have to worry about your head being hit as long as you're behind him.

you will always, always come first. he'd put himself in harms way time and time again, even if he prefers to think things out rationally beforehand

" negotiations have failed, " stelle whispered, shifting from one of her feet to the other tentatively, her entire body tensed up. " but when do they ever work ? "

normally, dan heng would think of something dry to comment in this situation, but he couldn't think of anything to come up with, not with you there. you were out of reach for him, caught in between march and stelle, and also in the first line of sight for the enemy that they were now going up against.

this is, objectively, his worst nightmare. he can't get to you, which is his biggest fear. that he wouldn't be able to get to you when you need him the most. dan heng realistically knows that you can protect yourself, but he also knows that people are relentless sometimes, and you were softer than he was by a whole lot. you always saw the best in people. you saw the best in him, after all. he was terrified that you were going to see the best in someone who maybe didn't deserve it and get hurt in the process. and it seemed to be coming true right in front of him.

" wait, stelle, before we draw our weapons- " you started, your hand outstretched as you turned to look at the nameless, shaking your head. " i think we're okay- i mean- "

he saw it coming before you did, the drawing of their weapons, the readiness in their stance to fight. all hesitation he may have had to push march and stelle out of the way died the moment he saw the sharpness of the blade in the enemies' hands. dan heng found himself reaching in between the two girls, grabbing your wrist harshly, pulling you back.

" watch out-! " dan heng yelled, throwing you behind him before you could find something to respond to him with. you were save, you had to be safe. everything else was secondary. and he was just in time it seemed. right where you had been standing previously, there was a polearm stuck into the ground, the sharp tip embedded so deep into the ground that he just knew it would've been a kill shot for you.

" d-dan heng ?! " you yelped, your eyes blown wide as you looked at where you had been. you pressed your forehead against his back, clearly and visibly shaking. you swore you felt a tail wrap around your form, keeping you close. " thank.. thank you. "

— ♡ rationaliity 2024

[curvykittyyssmutfics]

pervyroomate!Satoru who can't believe his luck when you answer his online ad for a roomate: "What made you seek out a male roommate, honey? Ain't cha scared the big bad wolf is gonna get ya in your sleep?" You scoff with a heavy eye roll. "Fuck no." He can't stop the smile slowly forming on his pretty face. 'Ya should be.' He thinks, already imagining how'd look naked and squirming beneath him as he made you cry on his cock.

pervyroomate!Satoru that despite his amazing mouth-watering muscles, he mostly watched as you move your belongings into his spacious 2 bd apt: "What the fuck, Gojo? You specifically demanded I not hire movers as you're 'stronger than any of those limp dick fuckers.'" You can't see how he leans against the wall amused, arms crossed and intently staring at the way your small cotton shorts gets lost between your plump brown ass cheeks as you struggle takin boxes to your new bedroom. "Sorry, the views just so damn spectacular. Lookin so fuckin good, baby." Your cheeks warm in embarrasment as you abandon the heavy box, rush into the room and slam the door. Satoru only chuckles, fixin his raging boner as he heads downstairs to get the rest of your stuff.

pervyroomate!Satoru does anything he can in the upcoming weeks to rile you up by any means: "Gojo, put on some goddamn clothes for christ sake. My girls are gone be here soon and none of em wanna see that fuckin shit." You grumble as you sit on the couch and turn on the Netflix app. He laughs heartily, dramatically ploppin down next to you. Its impossible not to notice how his naked chest ripples, how low his black briefs sit on his hips. His hypnotic ocean blue eyes linger on your thick cocoa thighs before meeting your gaze. "Fabrications. Your BFF cornered me in our kitchen just the other day.. Damn near begged me to dick her down. Wanted so bad to tell her I'm savin that for you." He leans in close to your stunned face to whisper his last sentence and gets up, heading to his bedroom. Your left starin at his spot on the couch with wide eyes and wet panties.

pervyroomate!Satoru purposely switched out the dark shower curtain a few months into you moving in with a clear one, finding any reason to disturb your alone time: "Hey y/n, need to brush my teeth real fast." Doesn't bother knocking, quickly stepping in before you have time to cover your wet body. His eyes seem a shade darker as he scans up and down your soapy, naked frame. A small 'fuck' escaping his pretty lips as he stares unashamed. "Gojo, what the hell?!" You screech, arms quickly covering your glistening breasts as you cup your other hand over your pussy. You could literally melt on the spot at the way she clenches at his intense gaze. "Get the fuck out!" The damn pervert looks on for a moment longer, actually having the audacity to palm his cock a few times. "Okay okay, baby, damn. Why you gotta be like that? You showed me yours, don't you want me to show you mine?" He asks with pouty lips as he finally backs out the bathroom, arms raised in surrender. You stop shielding your tits to throw a bar of dove soap at his stark white locks. He only chuckles, quickly shutting the door to avoid impact. "Fuckin creep, Gojo!!"

pervyroomate!Satoru flirts with you relentlessly, crossing every boundary and every line over the next few months: "You gettin the snacks, babe?" Satoru calls from the front room. You roll your eyes at the pet name before you feel a stinging SMACK! to your plump behind. "Ow, Gojo! You fuckin asshole. Quit it!" You swat at the childish nuisance but he dodges your attack easily, leaning against the kitchen counter a few feet away. Fuckin guy has spent the better part of the day smackin your ass while yelling 'Smack Ass Friday!' like a damn teenager. "Awe, come on pretty! Love watchin how your ass bounces when I do it." He coos at you before swerving a bag of doritos you quickly chuck his way. "Boy, I don't give a fuck. You touch it again and you're goin down." It's insulting how lightly he takes your threat; walking right up, grabbin a handful of each ass cheek and smashing your hips together. His half hard dick feels chubby as fuck against you, girth of him makin you gasp and clutch as his shoulders. Your insides clench at the feelin of him pressed against you. "Fuck, I been waitin to go down on you. Name the time and place sweetheart." He tells you sweetly, swiping his thumb across your bottom lip, kissing you on the cheek and retreating to the living room. Damn this man must love leaving you speechless, heart and pussy fluttering to his dirty words.

pervyroomate!Satoru notices how much you love how he smells: whether it's his natural scent or cologne. You take his shirts without his permission too often, only wantin the ones he'd previously worn. Loves how he comes home late one night and catches you in one of his stolen white t-shirts. Neckline pulled up to your nose, tittes jiggling wildly underneath as you play with yourself. He stares between the crack of your bedroom door, hand swiftly squeezin at his dick as he watches you mindlessly rub yourself over your underwear. y/e/c eyes shut tight, quietly moaning his name like a fuckin prayer. "Toruuuuu! Fuh-uuuck Satoru, love how you smell. Mmmm, soooo good. Want you so m-much, need you to fuck me Toru!" His mouth hangs wide open as he humps his hand faster atop his light blue jeans, absolutely entranced how you frantically rub at your throbbing lil pearl. "Ahhhh! Oh my god, Toru please!" He's so greatful for a front row seat to witness you cum like a fuckin virgin. Fuck are you one?Can't help his deranged whisper as he commits the scene to memory. "That's it, baby. Cum for me. Fuck.. I know that lil pussy's so gushy for me right now. Can't wait to see it up close, gonna make her cream all over me pretty girl." Head pushed back into your fluffy pink pillow, pretty y/h/c hair splayed out makin you look like a goddess in the throes of passion to him. "Wanna cum on your cock, Satoruuuu!" His shirt rides up on you, showing him how your tummy pudge jiggles as your body convulses into an arch. You bite your lip to muffle the rest of your pleasure. It's okay. The sight is enough for Satoru. He paints the inside of his new jeans immediately, free hand cupped over his mouth as his eyes roll back, his hips repeatedly jerking his clothed spasming cock into the palm of his hand.

pervyroomate!Satoru who asks you the nastiest shit just to see you sexually flustered: You're in bed reading, back against the headboard with Satoru's head in your lap. Your hand carelessly cards through his soft hair, nails lightly scratchin at his scalp. So cute the way he whines at you to continue everytime you accidentally pause as you get to a good part in your book. "Hey baby?" His voice so innocent that you know for a fact the next words outta his mouth are gonna be filthy as fuck. "Yeah?" "How come you only call me Satoru when you're on your back, fingers in that pretty lil pussy?" His tone is laced with the genuine wonder of a child asking a simple question. Your jaw might as well be on the floor. "G-Gojo!" Shocked exclamation half accusatory, half scolding. "What? I really wanna know, y/n. Sound as pretty as you looked in my shirt when you moan it like you did the other night; made me cum so hard listenin." He's lookin up at you upside down but you're absolutely mortified, using your book to hide your face. What do you even say to him right now? "Aww, baby don't be shy. I do it when I think about you too. Cept I usually have a pair of your panties up to my nose." He shares with you happily and unapologetic, pulling the book from your fingers to toss it to the floor. "I wanna hear you say it like that again." Turning on his belly to leer at your clothed pussy through your tiny bottoms. Your breath picks up in anticipation, starin as his fine ass leans foward and gives a slow lick from slit to clit. The urgent, intense sensations has you squealing out his name as you slide both hands into his hair. "Satoruuu!" Slidin your shorts to the side, admiring your moist plump pussy lips. "Fuck baby, say it again. Just like that." He commands you, latching onto your sensitive lil button. All you can do is comply, buckin into his mouth as you wail 'Satoru' over and over to the damn heavens.

[mxqdii]

pt 2 to note into you m.s. plsss

can't say im nott into you - m.s (part 2)

pairings: mattheo riddle x nott reader

summary: read part 1 first! you can find that here

warning(s): make outs, mentions of blood and fighting

not proofread

previously...

my hands tangled in his hair, the smell of his cologne and cigarettes filling my senses, everything just feels right.

an abrupt knock interrupts us, mattheos hand covering my mouth

"dude come on, snape is pissed you missed class and his lecture, we gotta go" a voice comes from the other side of the door.

fuck, it's my brother.

---

i pull away from mattheo, my panicked state clear to him

my eyes scream "what do we do" and he knows it

"mattheo?? come on we're gonna be late." theo yells again

i run towards his closet, trying to find a place to hide, accidentally tripping in the process

"fuck!" i yell, immediately using my hand to cover my mouth afterwards

"you got a girl in there, riddle?" theo says from the other side of the door

eventually theo breaks his way inside, letting out a scoff at the sight of mattheo's messy hair and unbuttoned shirt

"so.. where is she?" he says, scanning the room

"uhh she left" mattheo says, unconvincingly

"right, through where? the window??" he says sarcastically, looking out the window, showing nothing but lake far beneath them

"dude just let it go, lets go to class" mattheo says, grabbing theos arm

"no i wanna know who this girl is, you seem a little too secretive over her. what is it pansy or something?" he says laughing, looking under the bed and in the bathroom

"just drop it" mattheo says again, more agressive this time

i have my hand over my mouth, trying to be as quiet as i can.

theo looks around more, gaze shifting towards the floor, seeing my bookbag

he glances back up and mattheo, picking up the bag

"huh.. y'know whats funny is that my sister has this exact same bag... coincidence?" he says sternly

"uh- yeah, i mean its a pretty common bag-" mattheo starts, before the sound of stuff knocking over in the closet interrupts him

"fuck" i mumble, quiet enough for only myself to hear

theo looks at the closet, then mattheo, quickly walking towards it, opening it as fast as he can

his face drops at the sight of me with smudged lipstick and my tie taken off

"oh you're fucking dead" he turns around, punching mattheo

i bolt up, screaming

"theo stop!" i try to pull him away from mattheo, his elbow hitting my eye in the process

fall to the floor, clutching my eye "ow! fuck!" i yell

they both immediately stop, turning to me

"oh shit i'm so sorry" theo says, bending down to my level

"what the fuck did you do?!?" mattheo yells, gently taking my hand off my eye to examine it

theo watches intently, noticing the gentleness and how mattheos gaze instantly sofented

"does this hurt?" he says, pressing down lightly

i wince, not needing to say more

"i have stuff in my bathroom, ill get you cleaned up" he says, grabbing my arm helping me stand up

theo scoffs, walking out of mattheos dorm with his arms crossed

---

"thanks again mattheo, seriously." i say, walking down to the common room with him

"of course lo-" he stops at the sight of theo sitting on the couch staring at us

"sit." he says, causing us to look at eachother

we sit on the couch across from him, the silence filling the room for a few minutes

"listen, i dont care what you do, as long as you dont do that nasty shit around me, but riddle, if you hurt my sister ill actually fucking muder you, got it?" he says sternly and mattheo nods

theo then glances at me "hows the eye?" he asks

"bruised, thanks to your bulky elbows" i say sarcastically and he chuckles

"whatever, see you two later" he says, walking out of the common room

that leaves me and mattheo, alone, and sure we hooked up before getting rudely interrupted. but me and mattheo.. dating? i guess i just didnt think he'd see me that way.. theo sure thinks otherwise

i abruptly stand up, excusing myself and heading back to my dorm

"wait-" mattheo starts, but i rush off

we've been friends for so long, and yes, he's hot as shit.. but in hindsight i cant help but think

what are we?

TAGLIST:

@opheliaofficial07 @stargirlv0id @strniolo @annaisabookworm @theperson-nextdoor  @its-jennarose @thetriplets3 @llama-07 @wietske27 @ye0nvibezzn @sleepygirl45 @itsamusical4lifee @dianalovesm

[imrllytootiredforthis]

HIII

Could you please make a sub felix and femdom reader kinda similar to the club one (I hope Ik which one I mean😭) but with the members reaction at the end?

Like for example if y/n and felix fucked in his dorm but the others members heard it all??🤭🤭 and write like their reactions and stuff?💙

Please🫣

Needy Baby

pairing: felix x reader

summary: he doesn't know how you do it, doesn't know how you've managed to have such an effect on him but it makes him wanna do horrible, horrible things. or better yet, let you do horrible, horrible things.

warnings: sub felix, dom reader, gn reader, fingering (felix recieving), dacryphilia (heavy in this), exhibitionism (again, heavy), wanting to be caught, lowk an orgy at the end (kind of?), masturbating (of various kinds), minsung, kinda implied seungmin and i.n., possibly more

word count: 3.2k

a/n: i'd like to preface this by saying that i'm actually so sorry about how long this took to come out-it got buried in my inbox and i only saw it when i decided to go through them all, but anyway, it's here now so i hope you enjoy!

this also isn't proofread but hopefully will be soon enough when i find the energy to do so :p

“Tell me what you want, Lixie,” he shivers, with your breath fanning over his skin, your words in his ear.

He can hardly stand it.

Hardly stay sane.

Especially since your barely alone, on the cusp of being right out in the fucking open.

“Please…” he whines again, for what feels like the tenth time in a row, over and over again, wishing for more, wishing for everything you could give him.

His friends are right outside the room. The door is cracked open and the walls paper-thin.

He's sure they can hear him. Sure that they know what's going on in here, know that their bandmate is getting his brain fucked out by his girlfriend in the next room over.

"Please,"

And he doesn't care.

They can come watch for all he cares, the thought makes him feel even hotter; the idea of them watching you ruin him, make him cry and beg and plead.

Call him pathetic and needy, a little slut who likes to get off while his friends all watch.

And he can't help but notice that the sound of the TV, that was so obviously on before has gone silent.

"Come on, tell me one more time. Just one more. I need to make sure that I really know what you want."

Touch him, claim him, devour him. Bite him, mark him, make him cry out your name until his voice is a rasp and his throat aches.

He's too far gone to care, too far gone to want anything else than the hand that's just barely ghosting over his dick.

"Do anything, anything at all~, I need you, I need it, I ne-"

You pinch his nipple, rolling it between your thumb and forefinger, licking down the side of his neck along the freckles with intent; his mouth all but falls open in a silent scream.

He can't do this, god he can't do this.

He'll go insane. He'll lose his mind.

With the warm wet feeling of your tongue gliding along his neck, nibbling on his collarbone, sucking a mark there before moving to the next patch of skin that'll be laid victim to your lust.

With the position you're in, your back against the headboard, his against your chest.

Your legs are hooked over his, pulling them apart.

His body, completely bare as your hand leaves teasing brushes all over his inner thighs and cock; the other one's having its own fun in giving him shockwaves of pleasure by tugging on his sensitive buds, relishing in the noises he makes in reply, in the way he shoves his chest toward your hand whenever you teasingly pull away

"Needy baby," you croon into his ear and he melts into your skin, into your warmth, into the solid form of your body curled around him. "Be specific," your teeth nip at his earlobe, "tell me exactly what you want."

It's like every little thing you do sets him off so easily, every touch an electric shock of sensitivity that has him gasping and reeling for a breath to calm his dizzying head.

It ruins him all the more when he remembers the door, the crack and the way you've seemed to position him, presented completely bare and open to anyone who would happen to walk in.

"Tell me."

Shit, he could cry from the way you're talking to him. He could probably cum from that alone.

"U-um,"

His hiccupy gasps bounce around the room, much too loud for anyone outside to not hear anything.

"I-I want,"

Your hand? Your mouth? Your thigh? He doesn't know, he doesn't know, he wants it all, wants everything you can give him, he can take all of it. He will take all of it, if it means you'll finally just fucking touch him.

Your fingers leave his chest, running over his collarbone and neck and jaw to lift his chin, forcing his neck sideways so that he can look back at you.

He waits expectantly, for you to do anything, for a kiss or a tease or another reminder to speak up.

"Lixie," Your tone is sharp but also soft; demanding but also suggesting; forcing but coaxing. He doesn't know how you do it, doesn't know how it has such an effect on him but it makes him wanna do horrible, horrible things. Or better yet, let you do horrible, horrible things. "You wanna hear what I want?"

He feels his head nodding, sees your smile growing, watches the desire simmer in your eyes.

Knuckles drag along his cheek with nothing but overdone faux gentleness, like he's glass and you don't want to break him.

Like you're not about to ruin him.

The calm before the storm he supposed.

Before you finally tell him what you want, "I want to make you cry." Suddenly your hand is caressing his throat. "I want to make you beg," it loosely wraps around, your thumb brushing over his pulse point. "And I want to make you plead." You can feel his heart race under your fingertips. "I want your eyes all glassy and wide, trembling as I make you go completely dumb."

"I-" His voice is shaky, panted out with that crinkle between his eyebrows that tells you he's paying more attention to the hand wrapped around his throat that he wants to admit. "W-why?" He doesn't really care for the answer. He's turned on enough knowing that you want him like that. That you want this just as much if not more than him even. He'd rather shut up and let you hurry along but he can tell you want him to play into your theatrics. You want him to play pretend.

"I can't help myself." He gasps when your other hand grabs onto his hips, blunt nails digging into his skin, leaving crescent marks in their wake as you flip him over and press him into the mattress. "When you look helpless and needy like that, just like you are now," He doesn't know how he looks now, he doesn't know if he wants to know but if the sight makes your eyes darken with lust like it does, well then hell he'll do anything to recreate it.

"I want you to depend on me. I want you to need me."

His hair fans around his head like a halo, just like the pretty little angel he is. "You're just so pretty and you look so sad, I just wanna comfort you and hold you, keep you all to myself."

Your hand squeezes ever so slightly around his neck, restricting his breathing ever so slightly that his mouth falls open with laboured pants-partially played up just for the sake of your pupils dilating. Your jaw clenches, eyes sweeping hungrily along his trembling lips before you're leaning in, nose brushing along the line of his jaw, warm breath against his skin that makes him sigh in bliss, fingers twitching with a want to touch you.

You beat him to it though. “Can I touch you, angel? Please, pretty pretty please?” Your breathing is heavy, raspy

He doesn't know why you're asking, why when you already know the answer.

He's your's. Your's to play with and touch and tease and torture to your hearts content. If you want him to squirm-he'll squirm. If you want him to beg-he'll beg. If you want him to cry...you know it all too well that he'll cry, just for you.

"Pretty, pretty please angel? Let me feel you, make you feel so, so good." Your voice is soft like silk, honeyed and candied to hide the venom sinking into his skin, infecting him until every part of his body feels like it's on fire. "I'll find that spot that makes your back arch and your eyes roll back, you want that?"

If you want him to play into your little game, he'll gladly play it. Swallowing heavily, throat bobbing against your grip. “Y-yes, please.”

So you do. You finally, finally do more than a brush of your hand.

You let go of his throat and a high needy whine escapes his lips, silenced nearly immediately by your fingers pressing against his taint, toying around his rim, "you want me here?"

He gasps, sharp and quick and the noise sounds all too loud against the silence in the room-and what if the others heard him-and what if they're sitting on the other side of the door now, watching him, wising they coul-

"Baby?" Your fingers pinch his thigh, ripping a moan from his lungs.

"Yes! Yes please!"

You smile, soothing over the spot. "Aww, such a good boy, with such good manners." Reaching over him to the nightstand, you pull out a bottle of lube before cracking it open and pouring some over your fingers.

You warm it up before you touch him, well, because you're not that mean-not yet anyway.

His gasp rings through the room when you press a finger into him. A high moan escaping his open lips, out the door and to the main area of the dorms where the rest of the boys are but you pay that no mind, dragging your fingers against his clenching walls, feeling around for that spot that'll make him gasp.

You don't care if they hear. Don't care if they watch. You know he doesn't mind either, if that desperate look in his eye has anything to say, emotions glinting as he glances at the door then back at you-hopeful and then disappointed.

As if every time he looks over he hopes that he'll see one of them, staring back at him.

And if the way the others have gotten suspiciously quiet outside, you don't think that'll take very long.

"Want the others to walk in Lix? Want them to come in and watch?" He moans wantonly, legs spreading open to invite your touch further. His body shudders with pleasure at the mere thought of the others watching him, their eyes envious. Not knowing if they'd rather be Felix, getting ruined and pulled apart by you; or you, inflicting it all. "Want them to touch?" 

You press a second finger into him, quickening the speed, lips brushing against his skin as he nods, quick and desperate as the muscles of his legs clench and unclench, nearly spasming against your hips.

"I-i want them so bad! I-i-" his mouth is dry. His head is foggy with the idea. With your touch. With the door a crack fucking open, inviting the other inhabitants of the dorm inside. "I-i!"

And then your hand is on his throat again.

His voice cracks, breaking off into a sob as you find his prostate, fingertips grazing the spot, teasing before adding a third finger and thrusting right against it.

Hard, fast, going at a pace that he can’t nearly wrap his head around as much as let out noises akin strangled animal; grasping at your shoulders, pawing down at your wrist, pleading for you to go faster and faster and faster. 

Reaching up to his throat. His gaze meeting yours in a clash of pleasure and desperation and want and need before pulling at your hand and lacing your fingers with his.

Your gaze softens, your heart melts and he blinks. Once, twice and then he can’t help but give you exactly what you want.

His eyes first grow glossy, eyelashes fluttering as if to try to hold them back. It's a futile battle. You both know that he gets so sensitive so quickly and can't hold it back. But like he said...you like a show.

You breath.

He sniffles.

Tears like liquidized crystal prick at his eyes, one, then two, then more following down the ridges and slopes of his pretty face, creating tracks of tear stains as your heart races in your chest.

His quiet cries fill the room and it drives something inside you crazy, feral, heat filling every crevice of your body.

Something inside of you sings to see him like this, and you don't even realize you've moved at all until he's letting out a watery gasp and your hand is squeezing his harder, pressing it into the sheets and your pace gets faster, and you hit his prostate head on with deadly precision each time, abusing it over and over with your fingertips and-and-

and you're leaning in and licking up his tears, the salt clinging to your tastebuds as he sobs and squirms, unable to keep still with the way that you touch him so maddeningly.

Your tongue is hot, wet, dizzying as it drags across his skin, the sensation paired with the soft press of your lips as you kiss over his freckles too and the brutal insistence of your fingers.

You lave love and affection and utter adoration with every movement and it only makes the tears come faster, makes his lighter, fuzzier.

You add a third finger and he feels everything inside of him shatter.

"-Stop! You can't, I'm-I-I'll"

"-You'll what?" You coo, and you pout like you feel bad for him, like this isn't driving you insane with lust. Like this isn't making you want to fuck his brains out even more. "You'll cum? Put on a pretty show for all your friends?"

He nods helplessly with a small whimper, head much too surrendered into the blissful haze of something far beyond him. Lube drips lewdly down your fingers and onto the sheets as you slow your pace, dragging frustrated huffs from his pretty, perfect lips.

"Words baby,"

He doesn't reply, only whines.

And you can only watch on with hungry eyes as he clumsily attempts to fuck himself to make up for the lost stimulation.

He's unused to it as many times as you've done this, used to sitting back and letting you do the work, it pulls breathless gasps from him at the new experience, at how much exertion it takes to make his hips roll and buck and his ass greedily sucks your fingers deep inside of him.

The noises pouring from his mouth are obscene and fervid, high and ringing loudly off the walls. "Yes-" he breathes, mewling "fuck, yes. Want to-...want them, want..."

He trails off and you can only continue off the barely there thought but you know him much too well to not know where he was going. "Want them rubbing their dicks to you? Your pathetic little moans and whines-gonna cum for me and cum for them too?"

His chest falls up and down, up and down. His nails dig into the flesh of your hand and with no other warnings his mouth his falling open, back bowing up into an arch as he shoots ropes of cum all over his stomach and chest.

"Fuck~"

---

It had been Han to lower down the volume on the TV when he first heard something.

A moan.

Desperate and ruined.

It was Seungmin to glare at him, eyebrows furrowing at his blatant pervertedness.

It had been Minho to raise a brow at him, snatching the remote from Han to hold it out as an offering to him-a challenge.

The words silent but a scream all it once in his eyes.

'You want to turn it down? Do it yourself.'

Seungmin stared at it as another moan came from the door-it wasn't even fucking closed the whole way.

"Fucking pervs," he'd muttered but if he'd really felt that way he would've taken the remote.

Minho looked around at the others and the others looked at him.

And he slowly set the remote down on the coffee table, open to anyone who had the willpower to turn the volume back up.

It was, surprisingly, Jeongin who grabbed the remote and turned it off completely.

And as of now the living room is dead silent as the entirety of the dorms goes quiet as well, Felix's moans ceasing to halt.

Hyunjin is the first to speak, shifting in place from where he sits on the couch, his face is red to pair with the white-knuckled grip he has on a pillow as he presses it over his lap. "We all heard that right? I'm not just hearing things?"

He only recieves blank stares in return, as if his mind could conjure such things up.

As if it isn't obvious the way that he subtly grinds up against the pillow on his lap but no one comments. Not any of the rest of them fare much better.

Han sits on Minho's lap. Desperately dryhumping against him with his face tucked into Minho's neck as his hand grips into his hair.

It's clear that he's trying to be quiet as possible despite Han's teeth dragging over his throat and quick sharp thrusts he delivers. But the quiet ragged gasps have slowly risen in volume since Hyunjin's spoken and their little show in the other room has ended. Compared to his counterpart, he sounds composed though, Han lets out ruined whines between gasps, getting higher and needier with ever second that passes by.

The two had never been shy of PDA among their friends but this was much further than the sensual but short kisses or the teasing smack on the ass.

No one was complaining though.

Changbin shamelessly palms himself over his pants. He lets his eyes slip shut as he slowly lets his hands unbutton his tight jeans, sighing when his hand dips under the waistband of his boxers.

He can feel the eyes of the others on him, feel the particular hunger for him to pull down his boxers so he can stroke himself out in the open but he doesn't. He'll leave a little something to the imagination as he groans loudly, letting his head fall back onto the cushions of the couch, the muscles in his arms flexing as he throbs.

Seungmin and Jeongin sit next to each other on the opposite couch, a shared blanket over them from earlier. Before all of this.

They glance at each other once, twice before they're silently moving, quietly leaving the room together without so much as looking at any of the others.

The sound of a door clicking shut at the end of the hall is the only thing heard.

And Chan, their leader, only stares in the direction of Felix's door, trying to ignore the raging boner he doesn't even bother to hide.

His hair still slightly wet from an earlier shower now rests in untamed curls, hanging over his forehead as he turns away from the others, hiding a raging blush on his cheeks.

Should they have left? Put earbuds in or turned the volume on the TV loud to drown out the noise of their friend?

Perhaps.

But did they?

No.

No they did not.

And did any of them regret it?

...

a/n: ngl this was kinda hard to write for the part with the other's reactions but i'm hoping that it's okay😭

lmk what you thought and my taglist is here if you wanna be added: @hobihearteu, @missrobyn81, @laylasbunbunny, @xcookiemonsteer, @hahagay, @maru-matt, @d7dream, @amidstnamjin-and-binchanlix, @gwithoutv, @abcdefgiwsmcty, hoping i got everyone rn i'm probably gonna make a more organized vers of my taglist soon

[celtyshiftingrealitiddies]

AWAKE SHIFTING TIPS +

SHIFTING METHOD: FOCUS METHOD

Type: awake (similar to meditation;begginer friendly)

Hiii so one of my friends in a server asked for tips on awake shifting which inspired this post. I'm gonna give up guys some tips for beforehand to really get u in a good state to shift via this meathod bc if u jump right in and aren't usually the meditation type it might be more difficult but imma explain all the meditation stuff like a for dummies book and make it easy for yall (yay!).

Pre-attempt: So firstly to make it easier for you to start the meathod you can do some breathing techniques, you can look up some on YouTube if you'd like but I'll also recommend one of my favs. So this breathing technique is simple actually all you gotta do is breathe into your chest and let the oxygen flow to your head (hold ur breathe and focus on feeling the oxygen move to your head). Do this for a while till you like feel serene/at peace/relaxed or till you forget what you were doing bc u were to focused on breathing whichever comes first shouldn't take to long dw you'll be suprised.

Secondly you can use a hand mudra imma put a chart down below i made btw. The purpose of this is bc for the meathod your gonna want to hone in and hand mudras are kinda like the difference between using a marker and a fine point pen. if your gut is wanting to do something specific with your hands on its own listen to it, if not use one of these or whatever u come up with as long as you stay away from ones that are kinda rounded, and ones with ur hands separated. I've found that when I try and reality shift a sharper mudra with both hands will really sharpen your energy/intent.

MEATHOD TIME YAY

So if your using a mudra (Not nessasary) have it picked out beforehand to use.

The Focus method (How I Usually Shift)

So your gonna get in a comfortable or safe space where you can be fully relaxed and just focus on shifting. This method can be done laying down, sitting, standing whatever.

Imma give you guys 2 versions use whichever works for you.

Version 1: Pick out your dr first, now you have your intention set for what your doing with this method. Now your gonna focus, not about anything in particular simply focusing. When you start to feel like pulses/brainwave type sensations you'll know you've achieved the type of focus needed. Keep maintaining your focus at some point you'll probably notice your surrounding/the world around you fading/changing, it's working don't shift your focus to that tho keep maintaining the focus until you feel yourself coming back to your body. Your dr body on your own.

Version 2: alright version 2 has slightly different begining steps. After you've picked out you dr your going to imagine it/things about it until you can lock in on its essence. This can come from the most stupid random small things, you might feel like it needs to be something that encapsulates the whole dr but nah just keep thinking about your dr until you hit that one thing that bridges you to it in that moment.this is a feeling you'll be able to tell what I mean because the thing will bring you the essence of your dr. Now once you've locked onto the essence you can start your shifting attempt. (You don't need to continuously feel that essence thing btw you just need to have locked onto the energy for your shift bc the next part will bring you there). From here you'll focus, (again not on particulars) simply focusing on focusing. Keep focusing until your world, cr, any world; it fades away. Don't divert your focus when you feel your surroundings shifting and changing, keep maintaining your focus until you drift back to being present in your body once more. Your dr body; when you emerge.

Merry shifting~

The game :P

[the-laughing-lunatic]

hii! hope it’s not too much trouble, but maybe reader x scout, reader x engie, and reader x sniper - (established relationships with the mercs and reader) the reader doesn’t seem to be very happy lately - something bad that happened earlier in the week must’ve reminded reader of their past. (i really like your posts btw, you’re genuinely a really good writer)

(ahhhhh thx sm! I tried to make it as vague as possible so I hope you like it. Thx for requesting! p.s. I'm workin thru the rest of rqs soon bc school is wrapping up, so rqs may be back open soon :3)  

Scout, Engie, and Sniper w/ a reader who was reminded of their past (ROMANTIC)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── 

☆Scout☆

He feels like something’s off, but doesn’t know what

He wants to try to talk to you about it, ask if you’re alright and everything but he’s never been one for initiating that kind of emotional talk

When he finds you crying in your room though, he feels his heart break that he didn’t help you before

He scoops you up in his arms. “H- hey, doll, why’re you cryin’? Was it something I said?”

(He can’t help but still be a little insecure, you’re the first person he’s dated after all and he wants to do everything right for you)

If you don’t want to talk about it he’ll hold you and go on about how much he loves you so you don’t have to deal with silence

“You’re so perfect, doll, it kills me to see you like this, y’know, watchin’ tears roll down that pretty face of yours. Wish ya never felt the need to cry baby, I love you so goddamn much-”

Yeah he’s crying too, he can’t help it

If you do tell him he’d listen intently

He’d try to make you laugh so you’d stop crying, humor is his coping mechanism and he kinda projects it on you, sorry if that’s not your thing :/

He’ll make sure to give you plenty more affection a while after, youre getting spoiled as hell

☆Sniper☆

He’s not the best with emotions and all that jazz (he has the autism)

But when he finds you crying outside it hits him that something’s wrong

He sits next to you and places his hand on your shaking figure. 

“You okay darl?”

“No.”

“Would you like a hug dear?”

“Please.”

He wraps his arms around you and pulls you tight to him, barely any space between the two of you.

He rubs circles into your back until your crying has settled down. “...you wanna talk about it now, love?”

If you don’t he’ll stay with you and idly trace shapes into your hand, letting you cry it out

If you do tell him he’ll nod empathetically “Oh, love,” he sighs, tilting your chin up to look at the night sky above you two

“Think ‘bout it this way. All those stars up there? The light we see from em’ now is from ages ago, but the actual bloody stars have completely different light.  And jus’ because we can see the light, don’t actually mean that it’s here anymore. Bugger, I’m shit at metaphors. Point is, that’s in the past, an’ even though you might think ‘bout it sometimes its still in the past. And I love ya.”

☆Engineer☆

Notices something’s off immediately, he’s a smart guy after all

Once you two are alone he’ll place a hand on your shoulder and ask you “Are you alright?” in that sweet voice that just makes you burst out into tears

Pats your back and hugs you as you cry “Shh, it’s alright sugar, it’s alright. You wanna talk about it?”

If you don’t want to he’ll scoop you up in his arms (but I’m taller than- yes. He can pick you up too) and get you some warm food

“Y’know, my momma said that a good hot meal is the best after bawlin’ your eyes out. We don’t exactly got anything you’d call a meal right now, but I can fix you up some toast with cinnamon if you'd like, honeybee.”

If you do tell him he’ll reassure you that everything okay

“Honey, I know the past ain’t really ever somethin’ that leaves, but you gotta remember things are alright right now. Stuff from back then can’t getcha, sure it hurts sometimes but you gotta remember things are good right now. And I’m here for you.”

Gives you so many kisses

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── 

[tmntfixationxreader]

"Hello author! I've read some of your other works and I thought they were great, so I have a request for you.

Would you be willing to write a Rise Raph x reader where they're having a sleepover? Raph is nervous about wearing his retainer around them but doesn't realize that the reader also has a retainer until they put theirs on, fluff ensues.❤️🙏🙏🙏"

Sure thing! Thanks for the request :)

*****************************************************************

♡Self conscious sleepover♡

~During a sleepover, Raph gets worried about wearing his retainer~

Warnings: None, just fluff :)

Word count: 933

*****************************************************************

You had just had an amazing, long night with the gang.

Raph had invited you over for a sleepover, so you could hang out with him and his brothers, watch movies, play games, and chill.

It was getting late now though, even for them. Mikey was already passed out on the couch you all had been watching movies on. Leo was sitting in front of the couch watching Jupiter Jim intently, and Donnie was typing something on his wrist watch, as he was ‘definitely too busy to watch the Atomic Lass special’.

Raph yawned once, displaying his fang and teeth before stretching his back as he sat forward. He noticed how sleepy you were looking, and decided it was probably time for the two of you to head to bed.

“Y/n, you ready to head to Raphs’ room?” Raph asked, looking sleepy himself.

You yawned as well and nodded. “Yeah, probably…”

Raph nodded, definitely ready for bed; But he was the older brother, and had to make sure his younger siblings would go to bed too.

“Leo, last movie. Seriously, you won’t get any sleep. Same for you too Donnie, and no lab work past midnight.”

“Yes yes dear brother, I know the rules,” Donnie said, dismissing it with a wave of his hand before typing more stuff onto his wrist watch.

“Don’t worry Hermanos, I’ll make sure Don Tron goes to bed…. Aaaand I won’t stay up past midnight either…” Leo said, giving Raph a smile before turning his attention fully back to the screen.

Raph sighed, content with their answer. “You two will sleep… Trust me, I’ll know if you didn’t.” He tucked Mikey in with a blanket before getting up from the couch.

“Ready Y/n?”

You nodded happily and sleepily, telling the twins goodnight before getting up from the couch yourself.

Raph’s bedroom was nice. It was large, decently organized, and decorated with a few scattered posters. You noticed the small (some larger) scratch marks on the walls from his spikes. He had a large bed, big enough for the two of you to sleep on. Actually, you guessed that it was a king sized bed and a twin mattress pushed together to make one large bed.

“I like your room,” You smiled, setting your bag down. You had already gotten changed into your pj's, brushed your teeth and hair, ready for bed. One last thing was needed, though, to complete your routine. You squatted down next to your bag, digging through its contents to find your retainer.

“Thanks,” Raph smiled, and sat down on his bed, having already finished his nightly routine… But, he needed his retainer, too. It was sitting on his mostly bare nightstand, next to a small lamp. He didn’t keep much on it, more than once he had knocked the contents off during the night.

He was nervous to get it out, looking over at it more than once as the two of you talked.

“It kind of reminds me of my own room… I especially like your squishmallows collection,” You smiled at him over your shoulder, still digging around in your bed.

Raph smiled a toothy smile. “Thanks! I like to collect them… Kind of hard to do that without spending a lot of money, though… Most of them are ones my brothers have given me over the years”

You nodded. “Cool! Seems like your brothers knew just what to get you then.”

Raph looked over at the small box on his nightstand. He was nervous about wearing it in front of you. He had only ever worn it in front of his brothers, and he was worried of what you would think of it… Especially because it was shaped around his fang and looked a little strange.

Finally your fingers found the container your retainer was kept in.

You pulled it out of your bag, opening the small plastic container with a click

Raph blinked. “You… Wear a retainer?” He asked as you put it on, fitting it inside your mouth.

After a short moment of muscle memory, you closed the container and put it back in your bag with a nod and a smile. “Yep, I wear a retainer.”

You glanced at Raph to see his reaction, and was pleasantly surprised when Raph’s face lit up into a smile.

“Really? I wear one too!” He said, grabbing his container from his nightstand. “Raph was a little nervous about wearing it in front of you…”

You raised your eyebrows. “Nervous? Why?” You smiled. “There’s nothing wrong with it.”

Raph nodded, feeling a little better. “I don’t know… I was just self conscious.”

You shake your head. “Don’t be! I would never make fun of you for it or anything, even if I didn’t wear one myself.”

Raph smiles, and you zip up your bag. He opened the small plastic container, putting the plastic retainer over his teeth.

You smile at him, and he smiles back, clearly relieved.

“Thanks Y/n,” He smiled, and scooted so you could take half of the bed. You sat down next to him with a smile, patting his shoulder.

“No problem… Seriously, don’t stress about it…. No one should ever make fun of you for it,” You say, laying down next to him on your half of the bed, pulling the blankets up over yourself. It was getting really late, and you could immediately tell how tired you were.

Raph smiled and nodded, pulling the gigantic blanket over half of himself too.

“Good to know…Thanks,” He said, sleepiness settling into his eyes and muscles.

“Anytime Raphie…”

*****************************************************************

Hope you like it! I'm really busy working on some personal and long requests, so I took a break to do some shorter ones :)

Bye bye butterflies!

[luneariaa]

just smth about you working at a cafe,, and higu pays you a visit. plot is almost going nowhere hshshs,, and yes this is as fluffy as it can get lmao.

. dividers by @/cafekitsune !! 🌻

The sounds of the bells ringing from atop of the entrance door caught your attention, which is a signal that someone has walked into the cafe that you’re currently working at. The cafe itself was actually being run by one of your friends, which she had offered you a place to work there back then. 

Upon noticing the familiar face of your beloved, a happy smile immediately made its way to your face; hands automatically starting to brew some fresh hot coffee for him as usual. Higuruma didn’t need to tell you anything– you always knew his favourite drink whatsoever. 

Heck, even making some of his favourite sandwiches out of love for him. The dark-haired attorney always appreciates your efforts in ways that you possibly imagined.

By the time he’s about to make some order by the counter, you have already placed the coffee in front of him– which always, and always managed to catch him by surprise, before thanking you for your sweet and thoughtful gesture.

Higuruma sips on his coffee slowly after finding a rather reserved seat just nearby where you are; trying to savour the taste of it, yet his eyes couldn’t resist from glancing at your form occasionally. You were always so hardworking to him, and it’s one of your main traits that he finds captivating. 

“What’s with the stare?” You let a small chuckle out of you, now noticing how he begins to not shy away his constant gaze at you. He returns the same chuckle, propping one hand atop of the counter and rests his head there.

“What, I can’t appreciate looking at you and admiring your beauty?” Higuruma replies in a slightly lower tone, yet with a hint of teasing, as if to make sure you’re the only one who heard it closely.

“That’s kinda sappy,” you laughed humorously, yet also finding it actually sweet. “I appreciate that.”

His breath begins to hitch in his throat when you decide to do a bit of a bold move– gradually and slightly leaning your face closer to his, but still leaving some space for him to breathe.

“Could say the same to you, Mr. Lawyer.” 

His reaction actually satisfies you once you retreat from your initial stance; getting him all flustered that he had to loosen his tie a bit, and the clearing of his throat. Luckily, by some miracle, no one saw it.

But your co-worker friend has sent you a cheeky grin from afar, letting you have your moment alone with him, even though your shift is almost over. She’s the sweetest.

“Not so sappy when it’s just the truth.”

“But still..” You both shared a heartwarming laugh with one another. At least, you’re here to make him try to forget about his stresses from earlier cases.

“I’m not gonna take back what I’ve been saying though,” Higuruma grins lovingly at you. “I think your hard work alone would put even my skills to shame.”

“Nah, don’t sell yourself short!”

“Did anything happen today?” You finally changed the topic with another, wanting to know about your beloved instead as you gazed at him intently. All the while placing your hand atop of his as a sign of unspoken comfort.

“Got a quite difficult case today actually,” he shrugs and slouches over slightly; grasping back onto your hand with an equal affection underlying within it. 

“It’s just the usual client stuff, don’t worry. I’m handling it alright so far, but enough about me. How are things going here? How are you doing?”

A quiet exhale came from you by his answer. Even when his day isn’t really going well, he always has you in his mind instead– a trait that you find endearing, but it didn’t manage to stop the feeling of concern from resurfacing for his well-being.

“Everything’s going well here, don’t worry about me.”

“I’m so sorry that you had a rough day,” you gave your beloved a sympathetic smile. “Is there anything I can do about it?”

“Well–” His thumb brushes along your knuckles ever so tenderly, as if he’s afraid of possibly hurting you in the process. “--your presence alone is already enough for me, I promise you.”

“Just a little tired, that is. But it’ll pass soon; I’ve worked through tougher cases before.”

Knowing all too well that any attempt to shot back his statement will be futile, you eventually sighed in agreement. “Just don’t be too harsh on yourself.”

He merely nodded, not wanting to worry you any further, and lifts one of your hands up to his lips– pressing a soft kiss on it, which is enough to make you a bit of a flustered mess from his actions alone. You’re highly aware that it might be hard for him to try and do so; knowing how much of a passionate man he can be, especially anything about justice. 

“Are you able to wait for a bit more? My shift will end soon.” You tell while your eyes checked on the clock that’s hanging on the wall. “Or if you have to go back to work– I’m alright with it.”

The dark-haired attorney only gave a slight, comforting shake of his head. “Well, I do have to get some stuff back in the office.”

“I don’t think anyone’s around there at this time, so we can go there together. It won’t take long.”

“Then, we can grab some dinner outside tonight. How’s that sound?”

And who could’ve refuse such offer? It sounds amazing already for the both of you.

“That’s a deal then!”

© 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚜.

[awrkive]

r we getting tlp3 anytime soon 😖😖😖

anon asked: Could you please give us a little tiny spoiler about tlp pt.3?🥹🫶🏻

hi first anon! no i dont think i can give u guys a date yet. im actually currently joining an architectural competition at uni so thats keeping me a bit busier than usual, but i am writing tlp 3 during my breaks so ... thats that. ANYWHO. i will make sure to update u guys when its ready to be out!

anyways, to second anon. a tiny spoiler under the cut proceed if u wanna.. 🤓

You’re pretty much drained the moment you arrive at your place.

Sighing heavily, you punch in the passcode and almost feel your knees buckling at the sight of the interior of your apartment when the door opens.

It feels like it’s been so long since you’ve been here, and coupled with the discussion that you had with Doyeon two days ago, everything suddenly feels overstimulating and there’s a certain burn at the sides of your eyes that urges you to cry. 

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you breathe in and out as you enter the threshold, noting the fact that anybody is not home. Or Jungkook isn’t present anywhere in the living room. You’re a bit grateful for that if you have to be honest to yourself – after all, the last time that you talked to him, it did not exactly go as well as you’d like. 

He could be in his room, though. That’s what you assume as you go straight over to the kitchen in hopes to heat up the take-out that you bought at the driveway. But the to-go container from Chipotle at the island catches your attention, as well as the laptop that is left open beside it. 

So Jungkook is home. 

The question is, where could he possibly be, leaving out his stuff here in the kitchen? Might be in his bedroom to grab something real quick? 

You don’t mean to do the next thing that comes to your mind, but your feet – your stupid feet – track back from the microwave to the island, and your eyes betray you as they go look and read the words on Jungkook’s macbook. 

The tab that's left open shows an apartment listing website, and the following tabs beside it are some familiar real-estate names you’ve come to visit on the internet before when you were looking for a place yourself.

It makes you freeze in your spot, eyes glued to the daunting images of the apartment layout that Jungkook must’ve clicked on awhile ago, and you take note that he’s seemingly, specifically, looking for one-bedroom and studio apartments. 

Your mind goes into a sudden haywire at the sight. 

What does this mean? 

“Oh, hey,”

The embodied voice makes your head snap to its direction, and you see Jungkook standing in front of you in his sweats and shirt – his usual home clothes – with a charger in his hand. 

“Jungkook.” You say, or more like, breathe out. There's a heavy feeling that sits in your heart when you look at his face – but most of all, it beats a little above normal.

But Jungkook looks just as surprised as you. 

“I… I didn’t know you’re coming ho– back.” He says, and you feel a sudden twinge inside that you ignore when you caught him pointedly avoiding the word home when pertaining to your place. Somehow, it felt intentional.

But you give him a smile. Probably a weak one. Probably doesn’t really look like a smile at all and more like a grimace.

If Jungkook notices, he doesn’t say anything. Just goes straight to the direction of the high chairs on the island and plug in his charger on his laptop. 

Then, he turns to look at you. “Uh.. you just got off from your shift?” 

“Uhm, yeah. You too?” You say, nibbling your bottom lip with your teeth. A nervous habit. 

“Nah, got off a few hours ago.” 

“Oh. Okay.” 

“Yeah.” 

You nod your head. You stand there for a while, letting the silence that’s admittedly awkward hang in the air. 

It’s weird, really. Jungkook and you usually have a lot to say to each other – but right now, there doesn’t seem to be a single thing that you can bring up.

There's a certain kind of melancholy in the case. 

“Well, uhm. That’s Zillow.” You say, pointing to his laptop. The moment the words left your lips you swear you could have slapped yourself. 

How stupid to ask him about it. How incredibly stupid for that thing to be your choice of topic after weeks of no proper communication with him. 

Jungkook seems just as taken aback by this, though, turning his head immediately to look at his laptop. There’s a slight jerk in his movements when he glides his fingers across the trackpad that closes the entire window of the internet and shows his PC wallpaper instead. 

“Oh. Yeah. That was… Zillow.” 

Stupid, stupid you makes everything even more awkward when you say, “You’re looking for a place?” 

Jungkook stares at you for awhile. There’s a pregnant pause, and then he nods his head. A bit hesitant. But his voice is full when he speaks. 

“Yeah.” 

So he’s moving out. That’s what you think as you avoid looking at his face, letting your gaze fall back on his laptop.

You give him a small smile. 

“Ah. Good luck with the search, then.”

Your hope you hide the way your heart completely breaks when you say the words. 

[the-s1lly-corner]

Hugging Dethklok Hcs

depending on how im feeling after posting this i think i might make a second part including side characters (likely the second post will contain charles abigail and knubbler !! and maybe even some smaller characters that i feel deserve more love) anyways uhuhuh first official MTL post except it.. actually isnt, ive written for knubbler and the dethklok minute host before so yeah very nervous about this since im still trying to find my footing in how i wanna write the characters, so heads up that this might be VERY OOC and what better prompt to do than do one of my "i dont know what to write" ones written with reader as their partner vague mentions of like. sexual stuff but nothing explicit, i still wish to keep this blog as sfw as possible, really just implications of it than anything also some characters had bonus hcs of cuddling so uhuhuh

NATHAN:

built like a mattress, though that can mean anything since not all mattresses are made the same... hmm.. have you ever hugged/cuddled one of those tiny headed kingdom plushies? very firm but not comfortable, i think thats what nathan feels like, but perhaps just a smidge softer. but how would nathan feel? i mean hes very protective of you, and being able to hold you gives him a moment to keep you close. not very affectionate otherwise, but this is nice. definitely the type to do hugs from behind, especially if theres someone trying to flirt with you

PICKLES:

short so theres a good chance youre around his height if not taller and he may or may not feel things about that (both negative and positive but lets save that for another post as i fully intend on keeping this sfw), i always thought pickles of being physically affectionate so him having a hand on you is a common occurrence. probably takes the opportunity to whisper something in your ear, usually something dirty or something incoherent with him being drunk or otherwise under the influence. oh yeah i can easily see him being the type to swing his limbs over his partner while he sleeps and trapping them there

SKWISGAAR:

maybe im cooking something doodoo, but i feel like skwisgaar may or may not struggle with non-sexual stuff, like being purely romantic and innocent with no intent to get your pants off is foreign to him. i whole heartedly believe the reason hes so sexual is due to being in dethklok and being huge, but also because of his mother constantly bringing new people home. so in the beginning he might actually be tense in giving you affection, definitely going to need to take some time. very cold, skinny people tend to be colder ive noticed so totally you shouldnt take this as an excuse to hold him closer (winks)... i DO think he would also have a hand on you a lot of the time like pickles, whether or not those hands have other motives is up in the air

MURDERFACE:

make him take a shower first/j

okay jokes aside, this man is so starved for attention and affection, but he would never ever EVER say it. you guys could be 100% fully alone in bum fuck no where and he still wouldnt say it. but its definitely there in his actions and body language. i think hes warm, and his skin is a little... i mean he canonically has dry skin with eczema, and while i dont have eczema i know what having that dry scaly skin feels like... perhaps we could tie in some self care with the reader helping murderface take better care of himself? i mean it would be one hell of a fight to get him to try but i think its do-able.. tight hugger, kind of lets his arms linger before sliding them down when you eventually pull away. wish i had more but i think murderface is the type to deny affection whilst also deeply craving it

TOKI:

probably the easiest to hug in terms of getting him to accept it, actually i think he might be the most likely to initiate one alongside pickles. very warm, though he sometimes hugs you a little too tight and might even tug you back in if you try to pull away before hes ready. full body cuddles into you when you guys sleep/nap together, arms and legs keep you in place so... good luck trying to slip away before he wakes up. i like to think he fiddles with your hair, too, though im unsure if that fits with his character... i think that, despite still having a love for all things brutal he still likes these smaller moments of just. affection. very clingy and possessive though so keep that in mind, i think he would hold you and physically try to pull you away if someone tries to flirt with you; a lot less subtle than when nathan does it

[aidemint]

To Break A Habit | Routine Doesn’t Get You Kisses Like These

Summary: You kinda-actually find out he wasn’t joking about the spider stuff. Okay. But you’re totally cool about it. Totally.

Word Count: 5.1k

Pairing: Hobie Brown/GN!Reader

Notes: 5 minutes of screentime and i’ve already wrote more about this guy in a week than i usually write about anything in three months jesus christ

Masterpost | AO3 |  Part 1 | Part 3

“40081’s got this hoodoo shit goin’ on.” Hobie sighs as he makes his way down the main hall of Spider-HQ, recounting his mission discoveries from days prior. “Some sort of bad luck spell that’s making the world lose its plot.”

Gwen paces beside him, listening intently. “Sinister Six behind it?” she asks with a frown. “Or do you think it’s something else?”

“Not certain,” Hobie responds with a shrug. “But I’m close to catching the anomaly. Things should reset once it’s out of the fabric.”

“Hope it gets resolved soon.” Gwen sucks in a breath from between her teeth. “Miguel’s not looking too happy these days.”

Oddly enough, the mission so far had been almost deceptively easy—three days into the operation Hobie had already located and shut down a multitude of energy pockets emanating from certain parts of the city. A variant of Mysterio or Osborn was bound to show up soon, as the sites were likely siphoning vitality from the dimension. Now he just needed to gather intel about the effects of the magic while playing the waiting game. Luckily for him, he has a direct source.

“Relax Gwendy, it’ll be fine. I even got in touch with one of the locals for—” Hobie starts assuredly, turning to address his drummer, but pauses and swivels around when she’s noticeably no longer keeping up with his stride.

“You what?” Gwen stands frozen in the middle of the walkway, eyes blown as large as dinner plates with her mouth slightly ajar. She readjusts herself with a shake of her head, though her hands and shoulders remain raised and stiff. “Hobie, please tell me you’re not getting to know a civilian. ”

“Then I won’t tell you that I’m ‘getting to know’ a civilian.” A roll of his shoulder and he’s back walking, half-lidded eyes peering at Gwen when she inevitably joins again, bobbing and weaving through a downcurrent flow of Peter Parkers. “And I won’t tell you that it’s strictly for information about the mission.” A coy smile tugs the edges of Hobie’s lips upward. “Probably.”

Gwen looks just about ready to explode at the last quip. “You just told me— Oh my God, you know that, out of everything, is against protocol. Very against protocol,” she hisses, her voice lowering as her lip curls and she leans further into the privacy of only each others’ company. “What will you do when Miguel finds out?”

“You gotta live freely past the propaganda, Gwendy,” Hobie replies nonchalantly, patting a palm on her shoulder as a point of reassurance. “Just think about it.”

The best Gwen can offer him is a wary glance and a moment of hesitation, but he takes it with a grin anyhow. He’s certain she’ll eventually come around—the extent of their friendship isn’t something so miniscule that a few words of indoctrination would ever be enough to turn her.

It’s a nice notion to have, but he unfortunately doesn’t get much time to dwell on it—suddenly, his watch buzzes with an alert.

Hobie checks the device. “Someone’s ringing me, gotta bounce.” A few taps of an orange screen and a twist of a dial, then a portal opens up just shy of his left arm. “Been fun, Gwendy. Don’t blame me if I come back late.”

No matter how hard she rolls her eyes, Gwen can’t help but give into the smile that creeps onto her lips. “Stay safe, loser,” she responds, bumping her fist against his.

“Safe is practically my middle name.” With that, Hobie ducks into the gateway, and disappears.

How the fuck do you accuse someone of having spider powers without sounding like you’ve gone insane? Since morning you’ve been stuck in a cycle of decision-making for a seemingly hopeless situation. You thought the hard part was over after seeing the guy in the costume swing away on white silly string, but the mostly sleepless night and brainstorming the resolution to be had was another beast altogether. What doesn’t help much either is the fact your favorite pair of jeans are now stained to shit because an idiot thought it would be a good idea to trickshot a half-full Starbucks drink into a trashcan you were standing right next to.

Oh, New York, how it surprises you each day. You swear you’ve never had bad luck like this in your life—and now you’re twenty minutes late, punching in your timecard and hurrying to tie on an apron.

Even through your shift the anxiety doesn’t go away, despite how you try to ignore it. Nervous energy bleeds into your work, shaking hands spilling and dropping drinks; your preoccupied mind is nowhere near as focused as you need to be for the rush—you remake a drink three times in a row before being on the receiving end of a tired lecture from an angry customer.

“Something on your mind?” one of your coworkers ends up asking after most of the crowd has dissipated. “Or just tired?”

You’re on the verge of bursting into tears actually, but you manage to stifle it with a deep breath in. “A lot of both,” you mumble in response. You can’t tell her about Hobie, and it’d be too winding to describe the entirety of everything. She’s pretty good at giving looks of pity and she’s already shot you one following the complaining customer. Honestly another one is the last thing you want to deal with right now. “Maybe I should’ve just skipped work today.”

“Don’t worry, we all have bad days,” she offers with a consoling pat on the arm. “How about you just calm down for a bit and take your break? I’ll make you your favorite drink and get a bowl started for you.”

The gesture does ease your nerves, even if only by a little. You sigh, shoulders slumping, and give your coworker a grateful smile. Parting ways then, she returns to her station to honor her word and you make your way to the back to punch in the start of your break.

Exhaustion starts to seep in when you catch yourself staring blankly at the time card machine, watching the hands of the clock tick away second by second. There hasn’t been significant progress in terms of settling the whole “Hobie Brown is a superhero” dilemma, you realize, just a lot of pain and aching on your part. Maybe it’s time to put the matter to rest just for a brief half an hour—you’ll pick it up later. There isn’t even a guarantee Hobie will show up to the shop anyhow.

Yeah, you have time.

The chunk sound of the punch machine brings you back to your senses and you put away your slip before making your way back to the front of the house.

“Drink’s ready and bowl’s on the way. You can enjoy that while you wait,” your coworker chirps, sliding a cup to you when you emerge from the back. You’re just about to voice your thanks before she cuts in again, gesturing to a spot just beyond the counter. “Oh, and someone asked for you. He’s right over there.”

Your eye is already twitching before you even look. But you suppose you hate yourself and the world at this point, because you slowly turn to where her hand points regardless and find the one man you just made a pact with yourself to not think about.

Hobie greets you by name and gives you a friendly wave. Out of courtesy, you force yourself to return in, lips pressed together in a tight smile with the short extension of your hand.

“Heard it was your break,” he says, approaching the glass panel between the two of you. “Mind if I intrude?”

Yes! you scream internally. Yes I do mind very much!

“No, it’s alright,” you end up saying to him, staving off a growing impulse to whack yourself upside the head.

“Sick,” is all Hobie replies with before he retreats to a nearby table. “I’ll be waiting here—don’t rush yourself.”

It’s right about now that you’re wishing he wasn’t so nice and you didn’t like him so much so that this process of confrontation would go about smoother. Your gaze lingers on him and you bite in the inside of your cheek as you think about the validity of what you witnessed yesterday.

The option to not tell him and maintain your chances of still potentially becoming friends like normal exists. Dodging the awry reputation that comes with the manic conspiracy theorist persona is always good. You’ll get over it one day, right? Leave the suspicions behind and assume that the image was just a hallucination brought about by stress; convince yourself that Hobie Brown is just your average British punk-rocker.

But you can’t fight the feeling in your gut, how it burns, and suddenly you’re leaning over the counter, over the glass.

This is a bad idea. “Hobie,” you call in his direction.

He looks up. “Yeah?”

Shit, this is a bad idea. “I have something to tell you.”

“Wah’gawn?”

“It’s… I think it’s a matter best told in just our own company.” You look around apprehensively, a slight crease in your brow. “Mind going somewhere more private?”

Trying your best to ignore the suggestive look your coworker shoots at you from your peripheral, you beckon Hobie to come into the back. Walking through the kitchen, you usher him into the storage pantry and shut the door behind you when you join him.

“I’m guessing we’re not just here to kotch?” Hobie teases with the sideways tilt of his head.

“Unfortunately.” Your gaze lowers to the ground at the admission, fingers finding one another and squeezing. “Been thinking about something for a while.”

Hobie lets the change in the air stew until it thickens before responding. “Ready when you are.” His voice is softer, malleable, lost of all its previous playfulness and replaced with a certain kind of sincerity.

The slightest incline of your chin brings your stare back to him. You wish it served the simple purpose of just admiring the slopes and angles of his face, but your lips part and your curled hand trembles, and it all reminds you of the gnawing insecurity.

“I need you to tell me the truth.” You say it slowly, sincerely, keeping your voice as steady as you can despite the way your heart rate thunders. “Please.”

In your supplication, you aren’t certain how to appraise the extent of your desperation, but Hobie’s gaze does not leave yours. He nods wordlessly, a glint of something in his eye and it looks a lot like deference.

You take it as permission to continue. “When you brought up Parker”—you swallow thickly—“you were talking about something real, weren’t you?”

A beat of silence. There isn’t any external reaction from Hobie, standing as still as he had the moment he stopped in front of you, face lax and hands tucked away in his pockets.

“Ain’t got a Scooby-Doo what you’re talking about,” he says plainly, unfaltering in every word. Even then he doesn’t move, fortress-like in his disposition.

Perhaps he truly doesn’t know what you mean, you think. The chance is present, albeit slim, though present nonetheless—and how tightly you clutch this sliver of hope. But for a moment, in your hesitancy and under Hobie’s untelling stare, doubt creeps in—your palms grow clammy against the material of your pants, sweat assisting the glide of your fingers against one another. Your eyes search those of the man in front of you, wishing his look could change so you could find the courage to ground yourself.

What if you’re wrong? What if it’s all a fallacy, some trick of the light? New York is no stranger to oddities but even this seems too extreme. Coincidental talk of Spider-People leading to an impossible accusation. Fucking Spider-People don’t—shouldn’t—exist. The idea grows more absurd the longer you question it. Peter Parker got the short end of the stick, if there was even a long end in the first place, so what the hell are you doing?

But what if you’re right?

A breath rattles through you. “Hobie.” With a new waver in your voice and a tremble to your hands, you stand unsure of how your conviction bleeds through what you say but you try anyhow. “I know you’re gonna think I’m crazy, but I saw a masked man walking on the side of a building yesterday.” The admission comes quickly, riddled with cracks, but you’re entirely too focused on the followup to care. “After the conversation we had about Spider-People, after the whole thing about superheroes, tell me that it wasn’t you up there. Because I saw your— your fucking pins and I’ve never— God, I don’t even know! I’ve never seen something like this.”

Your fists clench, fingers digging crescent-shaped craters into the flesh of your palms. The marks bite, angry red and stinging—perhaps aching even more the absence of Hobie’s response, the seconds you give him to reply.

“Who are you?” Dry—your throat is so dry. Your voice can’t be anything above a whisper with how hoarse the question comes, flaking away with every shallow breath you take.

Silence blankets the both of you then, soundless space a limbo between comfort and unease. Unsure of what to do with it, what to make of the situation you stand in now, you let it hang listlessly, drawing upon an empty room and an even emptier conversation.

It takes a handful of moments for Hobie to even look like he’s processed all that you’ve said. Under your scrutiny, the smallest movement of his eye is the only discernible change to the testament. Whatever goes on inside his head is a complete mystery to you for the few minutes that elapse before he speaks.

Finally, he shifts in his stance. “You want me to just come out with it, yeah?” he asks, not sounding terribly happy, but not as nonplussed as you expected. He sighs when you nod slowly. “Alright. I’ll start from the top, then.”

He tells you his name is still in fact Hobie Brown, and he was bitten by a radioactive spider three years ago. Formerly a runway model, though not a role model, he’s been protecting the streets of his hometown against the PM. When he’s not playing shows, antagonizing fascists, or staging unpermitted political “action-slash-performance art pieces,” he’s out partying with his friends.

“And don’t call me a hero,” he ends with a frown. “Hate the label. Calling yourself a hero makes you a self-mythologizing, narcissistic autocrat.”

When he stops, you have both hands to your temples, pressing down hard. You can deal with his anti-authority spiel just fine—some part of you even agrees with the sentiment—but there is so much to unpack prior to the statement.

“So you— you have actual spider powers? Oh my God?” you sputter, eyes blown wide in an expression of surprise you’re sure looks exaggeratedly dreadful. “What even— that’s— what even are spider powers?”

“Dunno really.” Hobie gives a shrug. “Enhanced hearing, speed, vision, and sticking to walls are the main perks. Also links up to my—”

“Can you shoot webs out of your butt?” you blurt in a sudden horrible realization.

There’s a few seconds of tense silence before Hobie bursts into laughter, arms crossed around his torso to hold himself, shoulders bunched to his ears. The ring of his joy through the air lifts a weight from it and suddenly the atmosphere doesn’t feel as crushing as before.

Witnessing his state, it doesn’t take long for unease to fade away and for you to start softly chuckling with him.

“You’re so jokes,” Hobie cackles, a hand over his eyes as he leans back. A long, shuddering breath tears through him in his attempt to calm down. “But to answer your question, no I can’t shoot webs out of my arse.”

“Thank God,” you breathe, clutching your heart. “Wouldn’t have looked at you the same if you said you could.”

“I don’t think I can look at you the same after you just asked that.”

“Hey, in my defense it was just to get to know you better.”

“I’m sure that’s all it was.” Hobie gives you a pointed look, but is quick to smile after. “Speaking of which, I came in to ask you something as well.”

“Oh?” You blink. The sudden shift in conversation is unprecedented, taking you slightly by surprise, but suspicion is quick to replace your wonderment when you notice a change in Hobie’s features. A squint narrows your eyes. “What are you plotting?”

“Nothing, it’s just I have an excuse now that you know me better.” He pauses briefly, staring at you for a moment. “I wanted to ask if I could know you a little better.”

Your lips purse in confusion at the phrase, forehead pinching. “But you already know me?” you ask, brow raised. “Don’t tell me you forgot everything already.”

“I didn’t,” Hobie reassures gently. “I was just thinking instead of talking over a counter we could do it over dinner? Maybe a movie, if you have the time?”

A beat passes and suddenly realization sets in, drawing all the air out of you. The smallest groan escapes you as you bury your face in your palms, the skin of your neck and cheeks burning hot. Every inch of you seems more sensitive in your mortification—were you always this close to Hobie, and was his cologne always that strong?

“I’m an idiot,” you whisper from between the gap in your hands. “God, I’m such an idiot.”

Hobie supplies a soft chuckle to ease your embarrassment. “You’re not. It came out pretty corny anyways.”

“I can’t believe I’m getting asked out by a guy with spider powers.”

“Is that a yes or a no?”

You groan again, a tight breath pressed against your fingers. “You are so lucky you’re cute, Hobie Brown.”

It is as endearing as it is exasperating that you can practically hear how big his smile is. “You free tomorrow?”

“Anytime past five,” you reply softly, slowly inching your hands away from your face to peer at him. “Where should I meet you?”

Hobie’s grin tilts sideways at the query, a new sparkle of mischief brightening his eye. “I’ll come pick you up.”

Dates aren’t exactly a new concept to you—you’ve been on a handful, and they all go about the same. The first time, someone shows up with flowers or a small gift to start the evening right, then you’re whisked away for three hours to some place to hang around and have fun. It’s conventional, it’s safe—sometimes you enjoy the company more than the actual activity, leading to a second or third outing, but there’s nothing too special about the dance you do with routine.

Along this line of reasoning, Hobie crash-landing on your balcony with one of the most ridiculous offers of transportation isn’t exactly the way you imagined your date would start.

“You are not web-swinging me to Manhattan,” you tell him, still inside your apartment, arms crossed and shaking your head vigorously. “I don’t care what you have set up, I’m not gonna risk going splat on the damn concrete.”

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” Hobie pushes playfully. “Promise I won’t drop you.”

You frown, brows furrowing and lips pursing as you glare at him. He returns the look as calm as ever, a slight smile edging the corners of his mouth and stance open in invitation. The way he holds himself has uncertainty creeping to you, forcing out your fervent disagreement in favor of consideration in a rather slick way of persuasion.

Perhaps you should’ve known you wouldn’t win, with the sheer difference in your demeanors. Your staredown continues for a couple of minutes before you sigh, breaking eye contact with a reluctant drop of your chin and a gentle moan of diffidence.

“Can I at least close my eyes?” you mumble, walking out and shutting the balcony door behind you.

“You can do whatever you want,” Hobie replies, sliding on his mask and gloves. “Just hold on tight.”

Stifling a breath when his arm wraps around the small of your back and under your thighs, you cling to his shoulders as he lifts you up and climbs on the railing.

“You ready?” His chest rumbles under your touch when he speaks, and you can only give a small nod in your position, heart pounding against your ribs and face buried deep in the nape of his neck.

Hobie laughs—a deep, warm sound—and then launches off your balcony.

There are no words to truly describe the feeling that swallows you while in freefall. Wind blasts past your ears in violent howls, gravity pulls your figure down but your insides up, and the only thing you have to ground yourself is the feel of Hobie as you clutch him with every bit of strength you possess. Adrenaline thrums through every vein, lighting your nerves on fire and prickling your skin with gooseflesh; even your energy to scream depletes into fueling the rush that floods your senses.

Upon the first pull up, Hobie’s web catching a surface to swing from, your gut lurches and a serrated gasp shudders through you. Your arms pull you impossibly closer to him, fingers clawing to dig deeper into the back of his vest.

“Easy now,” he chuckles, sounding miles away with how loud your heart beats in your ears. “I promised I wasn’t gonna drop you, didn’t I?”

“D-Doesn’t make it better,” you gasp, shivering now that the breeze whips against your back.

“Try to relax—we’ll be there soon.” Though he says it like it’s the easiest thing in the world, it proves contrary to the way his grip tightens around you with the next swing.

Despite how comforting the gesture is, you find that you can’t relax much while still flying through New York a hundred feet in the air.

After what seems like days of travel, Hobie finally lands on solid ground, giving you a moment to catch your breath before setting you down gently. His arms are threaded underneath yours as you try to balance on shaky legs, knees bent and feeling all too much like jelly for your own comfort.

“I feel like a newborn deer,” you sigh, voice trembling from the withdrawal of adrenaline. Jitters quiver your fingers, lightly chatter your teeth, and shake the thin chamber of your chest. “My God, how do you even get used to this?”

“Gotta learn to trust yourself,” Hobie hums smoothly. “First time’s always a tad tricky.”

You only nod, gaze now pinned to the ground as he gradually guides you forward, step by step, until you’re stable enough to slowly walk on your own. From there, the slightest incline of your head brings your attention to a small spread of food and flowers laid out nicely on a patterned blanket. A warmth comes to settle in your core at the sight, softening your eyes and easing the tenseness in your limbs—contentment reaches you and the stress gained from the ride here begins to fade, if only by a little.

“Hobie, this is so sweet,” you coo, pleasure lightening the tone of your voice.

His rings just as sweetly through the evening air. “Good to hear—would’ve been gutted if you didn’t like it.”

You laugh at the response, casting an affectionate glance at him that just grows fonder upon meeting his charming reciprocation. The bend of his brow, the part and curve of his lips, the crinkle of his eye—all of it has you transfixed for a generous moment, barely able to notice the way your navel aches with longing in your stupor.

The feeling persists throughout the evening, present in every winding conversation and instance of quiet shared between the two of you. It’s rather freeing to be unconstrained by the formalities usually held by the label of a first date and to sense such endearment for the whole of it. There is no talking to only talk—every sentiment has meaning, every word punctuated by some semblance of tenderness; there is no awkward atmosphere brought about by nervous tension—you rest comfortably, leaning back on your hands, as does Hobie, elbows on crossed legs, positioned towards you.

Hours pass by easily in the space, kissing the sky with hues of orange and gold and violet as they bid a teary farewell, trails of light following in the wake of their departure. Yawning clouds push to the east, unlined shapes dissipating with the fleeting luster. Soon, the New York city skyline is only a bleak, black horizon that cradles a half-yolked sun just shy of its surface.

Golden rays grace your skin, full and temperate and real. You’re just about to gush to Hobie about how this is your favorite time of the day when you’re stopped by the shallow movement of his arm.

He shifts to pick the carnation laid closest to your hand, snaps off the longer part of its stem, then tucks it delicately behind your ear. Wordlessly, he adjusts the petals, and grins when they seem to his liking.

You’re practically bursting at the seams when he retracts his hand, fingers ghosting the curve of your cheek on their path back. Heat rushes to your neck, white-hot on a quick shot up to heat every inch of your face. The sensation catches your breath, widens your eye, tucks the tip of your bottom lip between your teeth, and all you can do is sit and watch Hobie as he admires you.

There’s a look in his eye that you hope is reflected in yours, how beautiful he is. The warm vermillion hue of the sun hits his complexion and it’s like there’s nothing else in the world to behold but him.

Suddenly you find yourself reaching for the flowers on the blanket, clasping multiple in one hand and halving the stems with the other.

Leaning forward, palms stained with sap, you place the carnations in each of Hobie’s wicks, uncaring of the smell of chlorophyll or the tremble of your fingers. You only return to your seat and wipe your hands when you finish, the expanse of his head dotted in small blooms, all that’s left of the original bouquet messily cut stems and loose leaves.

A breathy laugh escapes you at the sight, light and happy and bright. “You are so pretty, Hobie,” you whisper, your heart swelling with adoration. “And I wanna kiss you so bad right now.”

He smiles. “I’m not going to stop you,” he says, then wraps his arms around you when you crush your lips to his.

You feel you must be drunk on something, but are entirely too far gone to care the slightest bit. Hobie is every bit as soft and warm as you imagined, his hold homely, his scent familiar. Breathing him in, bergamot, plum, and sandalwood filling your lungs, a dreamy sigh stutters out of your nose before you start to move.

The kiss takes on a steady rhythm then, perhaps the easiest thing you’ve had to follow. Each press of your lips against his finds just the right amount of resistance, the feel of his piercing snug as it nudges you in every shift. Your hands find purchase in cupping his face, fingertips smoothing the silver studs that line his ears and thumbs stroking his cheeks.

Hobie’s touch rests just shy of your waist, the bend of his elbows against your ribs, palms flat against your scapula. His chest rises and falls with every breath, a slight hitch in the motion when you crawl to his lap, sitting in the space between his legs.

The two of you share your own pocket of heaven for a minute longer, then with one last kiss, you part. As your eyes flutter open, Hobie slides a hand off your back to thumb your lip, swiping a finger across your bottom one.

You make a questioning noise but remain unmoving as he works, sliding his digit across sensitive skin.

“My lipstick got on you,” he explains when he finishes, showing you black makeup smeared on his thumb. “I liked the look of it, but didn’t know if you did.”

A gentle laugh spouts from you at his kindness. “I’m all for you giving me a makeover next time,” you say with a grin.

Hobie gives a small chuckle back, delight sparkling in his eye. “Good.”

The afterbuzz of the date still tingles the back of Hobie’s neck even hours later. It’s ten o’clock, the moon at highrise and not a single star in sight in the muddy violet pool that overhangs New York. He’s in the middle of a stakeout, monitoring an energy station reopened as bait for whatever, whoever, might come out in response. The task of fully focusing proves rather hard in the wake of remembering the warmth of you as you held him, the brush of your lips against his, and your small gasps of breath, but he tries anyhow.

Hobie’s just finished shaking off the image of your face in the light of dusk when his watch buzzes. He looks down with a frown, noting the peculiarity of receiving a call this late.

“Gwendy,” he greets, an orange hologram of Stacy appearing with the twist of a dial. “What are you ringing me for?”

“Hey Hobie,” she returns flatly, not providing much else before quickly casting her gaze askance.

From her projection, Hobie can gather that something seems off—Gwen’s stance is completely closed, arms crossed and feet together. What looks like nervousness twists her features, pinches her forehead, pulls her lips tight together. She’s never been good at hiding her emotions, but even this seems exaggerated.

Sobriety seeps into Hobie then, the high of hours ago eroding. “Something wrong?” he asks, voice dropping low.

Gwen pauses, hesitating. “Miguel wants you back at HQ,” is what comes from her after a few seconds. “Now.”

“What about the mission?”

“He just says to leave. There’s been some new intel. That’s all I know.” Gwen swallows thickly, her eyes flickering back to Hobie. “See you soon.”

“Alright, see ya.” The hologram blinks twice, then disappears. Hobie taps on his watch to open a portal back to Earth-928, dubiety sinking its teeth into his thoughts. Miguel was ever the autocrat, so he was never quite fond of the guy, but the way Gwen had come to him—with a fresh feeling that extended beyond terror etched in her expression—that doesn’t sit well. He doesn’t need a spider-sense to recognize that something is amiss.

Somehow, he can’t elude the feeling of dread that creeps to him when he’s swallowed by the vortex.

[sabrondabrainrot]

It's tinfoil hat times I have more observations for eagle eyes listeners (yes a Nightvale ref)

This will contain spoilers for recent TSAMS and LAES!

I gotta go to bed so I won't be able to contain everything but just some stuff I noticed recently and something I've been thinking about.

I won't be as organized as usual, warning spoilers below!

Picking apart what Dark Sun said and did...he used the word expunge. I don't know if this is problem of VA's picking a word that sounds cool...or they picked it know what it means? Expunge is a word that means 'to remove', 'delete', 'strike from the record'. So...why would he collect data on Sun's choice to kill Nexus and expunge that across the multiverse? Why would deleting that make Suns turn on Moons? I'm too tired to think about it past this but...it's interesting. What if D!Sun did delete something?

The biggest thing between Sun and choosing to kill...its his love and trust...but I wonder how Sun's decision to choose the greater good and his family would delete something? That sparkle nighttime Sun was beating his Moon while crying that he hated him...but did he actually? How can we know? I can't wait to find out more about the entire Sun on Moon violence. D!Sun said it was his hate for Nexus but that's not the case...because Sun himself stated he still can't get himself to hate Nexus. We also know, the only reason Sun's magic worked was because of what Ruin did...so I think my theory about the NSP and SP interacting to possibly make Nexus into a new being still stands. D!Sun knew Ruin planted that device when he made Sun choose.

I feel like history just keeps repeating itself where Sun's choices will never be choices and his decision will always be made for him. Moving into more stuff! The recent episodes omigod!!! Moon! He finally stepped up! I still have many things to point out though. I was talking in @goodolddumbbanana dms because like...we're both still disappointed by the episodes...(I won't type the entire dms cause like I want banana to do their piece too without me speaking over them)

When Moon talked to Sun at the pier, he still managed to make it about himself. Did anyone else notice that? He turned it into his normal "I hate myself" routine. He proceeded to let Sun know he's the best brother ever...but Sun just...I don't think he believes it. Even if Lunar and Earth also both tell him that. Even Solar. He just won't believe it.

Looking at how Sun's entire...existence has gone, it's pretty understandable why he'd think and feel this way.

He hasn't been shown by his family (except Earth) he's the best so why would he believe it? Especially coming from Moon who's done nothing but lie to him and break promises. Moon stepped up but...was acting annoyed to take care of Sun. He just was acting like he was ready to get stuff over with. Then...When Sun finally asked the million dollar question. "Did you hate me? Do you hate me?" He's always been asking that and never got a straight answer. Moon has always acted like he really did hate him in the past. Worst of all? Moon told Sun he did.

He told his emotionally beaten brother who's soul is shattered, that 'Yes Sun, I did hate you'...Moon...being honest in this particular situation...I don't think it's the best idea.

Moon, to an emotionally unstable - highly fragile - Sun, basically confirmed Sun's darkest fear. The soul deep ache Sun feels. It's not...gratifying...Sun may now have closure that 'wow he treated me like that because he did hate me' but the big issues with this? Moon has not really changed how he treats Sun. He stopped physically hurting him but he still hurts him. In small ways. We saw that first hand in the last few eps. He left to avoid Sun entirely. He broke promise after promise. He'd rather throw himself a pity party then buck up and just be there for Sun.

Sun always leads with the best intentions. He tells Moon he loves him. He encourages him. He builds him up. (I think i've said this before lol)

Then we get the MVP Earth ep. That episode was honest to God beautiful. Earth is an amazing sister and Kat knocked it out of the ball park with her vocal performance today. She put in so much emotion. I like how Earth's breaking point wasn't her taking care of Dazzle or Sun. Her breaking point was how her family was treating her and Sun like shit. They both left them to their own devices. It was so sad. I was wondering when they kept showing Solar who was taking care of Sun and honestly it makes so much sense it was Earth.

Then in the same episode she said Lunar is acting strange. I'm going to be honest, I know exactly why Lunar is acting mad at Earth.

I don't get a ton of opportunity to talk about Lunar. In the recent episodes his sorest spot was prodded by Taurus. Taurus is basically telling him to get over himself.

Which...I don't agree with how Gemini and Taurus are going about it. Letting go of your hate and hurt is so important but them just telling Lunar to do it isn't going to work. He needs to be taught how to.

So why is Lunar mad at Earth? Never forget, Lunar hasn't developed much he's still a very selfish immature person. He's mad at Earth he's stagnating. He's blaming her for his stunted emotional growth. He chose to numb himself to deal with his emotions and if he admits that was wrong then it'd be a long time of wasted efforts. He would have so many regrets if he admits he's been doing everything wrong.

After all, If Lunar wasn't so apathetic about N!Moon would he have made a difference in him becoming Nexus? (No, but Lunar could be thinking about that)

Lunar, I believe, is blaming Earth for not 'fixing' him. He doesn't understand he needs to want to change himself for it to happen. (it's the same thing for Moon, he knows he's flawed but has given up on improving) I think Lunar just kind of assumed Earth was supposed to automatically make him better with him not doing any work himself.

Then the crux of why he's mad at Earth.

It's simple.

She's friends with Eclipse.

That's really what it is.

Think about it, he hates Eclipse. Eclipse is now in the front of his mind to the point he's acting odd and watching Nutella ads for hours. He's trying to mute his rage. What Taurus and Gemini said would anger anyone.

Telling a victim to not only get over their abuse but also get along with their abuser? It's plain wrong. Lunar has the right to hate Eclipse, the only problem is that it is harming him. Hatred will always be someone's undoing. It is a negative, putrid thing that only destroys.

He's been shoving his emotions down for so long they're bound to explode. I know Lunar loves Sun and wants to be there for him but he's been apathetic for so long now he can't. So he's lashing out and projecting his own self anger onto Earth. She's right there after all.

Solar is basically acting like a keeper to everyone and despite doing better for Sun, Solar is still emotionally distant. Moon physically isn't there. Lunar won't lash out at Monty. He won't take his frustration out on kids like Dazzle and Jack.

Earth is also just...too nice. So yeah, I absolutely understand why Lunar is angry at Earth. He's being totally unfair and immature about it too, because it's not like there's other problems, ie Sun is literally broken and can't leave bed.

but I digress, I like that Moon is stepping up. I just hope he doesn't keep dropping the ball. I think Sun right now truly doesn't think Moon cares...Moon is going to have to do a lot to show him otherwise. I'm glad Lunar finally checked on Sun and I hope he does it more often, because Sun loves Lunar too. He loves the entire family. Earth was right to cry about how they were failing Sun.

I'm really proud of Earth and Solar for stepping up to help Sun.

[fitzs-space]

I want to talk about all the details I put into the Ties comic cause I worked on that thing for like a week and my brain likes to think about many things

Anyway, pspspsps I'm info dumping about my own designs gather round.

Notes for the character designs themselves

-The colours show if they are Red/Yellow/Green are different per character. Tango with bright colours, Skizz's are cool and dark, Impulses are more yellow, and Ethos are more desaturated. -Not all characters in the Life Games will get colour indicators in their eyes, the fact 3/4 of the designs here have it is unimportant shut -Impulse has a heart knot in his tie!! Look at it!! -Impulse cannot tie a tie. Tango does it for him. -Tango having his tie undone is his own choice -The choice of them having/not having pupils is intentional. -Etho only has the one on one side, maybe its cause the red eyes a little fucky in the vision, who knows though -Impulse has i's in the eyes -Skizz just straight up doesn't have em, but I normally don't draw pupils with that iris shape anyway. something something normally only draw that iris style with certain magical characters -I just stopped drawing with Tango with iris' at some point, idk -Skizz is designed as a fallen angel. that's why the halo's are all separated/broken, and why you can see darker feathers growing -maybe Impulse used to help him dye them white cause of some insecurity, maybe not -the lower his lives go, the less dark feathers are seen in his wings. like a cruel joke the watchers get a kick out of

-mullet Skizz MULLET SKIZZ!!!!!

-Etho is a sentimental mf /pos. they will keep and make a lot of patches for memory's and stuff. notable patches are, The NHO patch, a creeper cause of general Spazz, Canada flag cause Canadian /j, I normally add rainbow ones for the button saga of s7 but forgot to this time. -the rings are from all their divorces /J -the colours on the rings correlate to their owners (Bdubs, Cleo, Joel) lives. ie will be red if one of them is red kinda thing.

think that's the most of the design thoughts, now the Details in the comic itself,,,

-Skizz is the kinda mf who would fiddle//stim with random things in his hands. Many times its other peoples hands -dude will just hold peoples hands randomly when talking to them, team Ties just got used to it -That's why Etho took so long to notice the bracelet!

-their ass isn't phased by this kinda stuff anymore /hj -Skizz just enjoys contact man let me be -Throughout most of the comic Skizz has some sort of contact with Etho

-Tango and impulse also end up giving Etho bracelets as well -All the bracelets Etho gets share their colour indicator + the colour form the person who made it!

-you can see the colours slowly shift when Skizz ties on the bracelet, something something the magic of the world does some shit sometimes man.

-Skizz taught Impulse how to make the bracelets, so they have similar styles, Skizz's is more of a simple braid style though. -Tango went for something that took longer to do. it is a little scuffed /pos

-Ethos been getting their ass handed to them the episode before this, had to rightfully reflect that. you know? /j -the Slashes across their chest where form when Gem/Cleo killed them twice in that one episode. -The bite was originally supposed to be cause of Scars dogs. But someone in a reply made a joke about it, and frankly I think it'd be funnier if it was cause of Joel or some shit like they said.

-Had the axe as more of a battle-axe style. It was something Impulse made for Skizz (I forget who actually made it//Didn't want to go back to check) -I like showing characters having specific styles/ways they make armor and tools. -It's fun to show characters with tools and armor that can be distinctly seen as being made by another player

-That being an axe Impulse made adds more weight to the narrative of this moment and I want people to cry -something something for Etho its a moment of taking a weapon that Impulse made to protect Skizz, and using that as the tool that finally kills him -For Skizz this is a moment of his trust and care for his teammates. Being surrounded by people that he cares about and tokens that show their love for each other.

-Suffer, I could have been angstyier, and I will be actualy.

-Skizz is the one putting the axe to his own neck in this moment. Etho is putting as little force into it as they can. -Red king parallels who- -Etho also gets cut by the axe, something about sacrifice and how no life/time can truly be free in these life games -The blood wasn't actually intended to be golden ichor, I was just lazy and didn't want to draw red blood// wanted to have the cool lighting effect -Etho has the same colour in their blood too so, take it as you will

-I've had this comic planed since EPICODE ONE. had full intentions for it to go angsty in the end, and dam if the narrative didn't play right into my grubby little hands.

-I also just love how well I could parallel the moments in this comic. the comparison of the pages where both their faces are visible? the Joy in ethos face turning to complete anguish? the fact Skizz never stopped smiling? the way both moments start with an outstretched hand, and end with Skizz still holding onto Etho in a moment of trust? beautiful

-all the pages in the second part of the comic were framed specifically so I could avoid drawing Skizz ass.

[wannaeatramyeon]

your sammy content has me screaming, blushing, giggling and kicking my legs!!! idk if you write for this stuff, but would you mind writing what yandere sammy, gun and goo would be like? have a wonderful day <3 - 🌺anon

Fanon Sammy has me reacting exactly the same tbh! TYSM for reading and the ask 🌺🌺🌺🌺❤️

Oof. Toxic, abusive relationships? (And this is also a trigger warning). I haven't made this as dark as it could be but here we go...

Lookism Yanderes: Gun Park, Goo Kim, Samuel Seo

A snippet into their toxicity

Gun Park

"How was school?"

You land on the sofa with a crash next to Gun.

Ugh. School was... school. Albeit a little better this week than it has been. The worst of your project work is over and that idiot in your class hasn't been around.

"Is that classmate still giving you trouble?"

"Huh? Oh. I haven't seen him this week."

"Hmm. Interesting."

Something about the way Gun says that draws your attention.

Why is he smiling? Is he happy that you're happy or-

Come to think of it. You haven't seen him since you last mentioned him bullying you to Gun.

... Everyone who causes you trouble has a habit of going 'missing'.

There was the group of girls who harassed you. Some drunken idiot who catcalled. This classmate who started picking on you. And actually, that boy you made friends with a few months back and Gun had disapproved when you told him.

The dots start to connect.

You startle back to the present and notice Gun staring intently at you. He knows that you know.

"Don't be scared, Y/N. I'm only doing this to protect you."

You know your boyfriend is violent, but you never thought-

"Are they..." you can't bring yourself to say the word 'dead'. The idea that Gun killed these people terrifies you.

"Not dead. They just aren't here anymore." Gun notices the shock written all over your face. He continues, "Y/N, haven't I made your life so much easier?"

And that is true. To an extent. But-

"You understand I would never hurt you?"

Wouldn't he? You suppose he has never laid a hand on you. You nod.

"You trust me?"

That, you do. He has never given you reason to doubt him. You nod again.

"Say the words."

"I trust you..."

"And?"

"It's for my own good." you say, even as the insidious grip of fear starts to wind its way around your neck.

Goo Kim

The bell to the cafe jingles, signalling a new patron. You put on your peppiest customer service smile.

Oh. Your face falls when you see who it is.

"You're here again?"

Goo just grins, taking his usual spot right by the counter. Right by you. "Yes my little sweetpea. Just visiting my love at work!"

It started as a nice gesture, Goo occasionally popping in. And if he wasn't here then he would be constantly texting you.

(He sulked for a week straight when you told him you weren't allowed your phone when you're working. Somehow you felt personally responsible for this despite it being a work policy.)

His quick coffee breaks turned into a few hours of lingering then eventually staying during your entire work schedule.

It is too much. Far too much.

"Goo... You know I got told off last time when you stayed for my whole shift."

"Is your manager still giving you a hard time!" Your boyfriend looks at you with the saddest puppy eyes and a pout. Goddamn it. Why are you the one feeling guilty.

You press on with what you want to say anyhow, "... Don't you think you being here all the time is a little inappropriate?"

Not just a little - a lot, you think. And not inappropriate - completely suffocating. But you are careful with your words.

"No! How could you think that..." The sulk intensifies and Goo looks genuinely upset. Ah shit. You're about to apologise- "Besides, I think your new boss would be fine with this."

In a blink of an eye, the mood changes. Goo looks happy. Manic, almost.

You narrow your eyes at him. What is he up to. "How do you know?"

"Let's just say I know him very personally."

"Who is it?"

"Your beloved - me! I bought this little cafe! Now I can see you all day every day!"

Seriously? This is ridiculous.

Your eyes quickly dart towards the other customers and your coworkers. You can't make a scene and frankly, you don't have the energy for this fight.

Nor do you want to put up with a week straight of tantrums until you inevitably suck it up and apologise.

Instead, you attempt your customer service smile again.

You hope it works.

Samuel Seo

Entering the living room, you are immediately greeted by Samuel glaring at you.

"Where have you been?"

"Didn't you see my text?" You are sure you texted him before you left, telling him not to wait for you for dinner.

"I must have missed it." His expression doesn't change. "Where did you go?"

It was nothing special. You just had a catch up with a few classmates over a meal. Your eyes glance at the clock. It's not even 8pm.

"Who were you with?"

You explain (and you did mention if he had just checked his phone), but Samuel makes you list out every person.

"There were guys there?"

You frown at him. Well, yes but it's not like it wasn't a group-

"Am I not enough for you?"

The question surprises you but you read between the lines. You know Samuel has his insecurity issues, and you have been trying to work through them with him. Surely, this should have been fine.

"Of course you are," You try to defuse the situation, yet the doubt creeps in that you could have been more considerate.

"I would be more comfortable if you asked first." Samuel approaches you, angry and disappointed. "How am I supposed to concentrate on work if I don't know where you are?"

"But I did text-"

"Do you want me to lose my job?"

You shake your head.

"Everything I've worked for?" Samuel looms over you, looking furious.

You shake your head again.

"Then why is it too much to ask you to ask me first before you wander off?"

Your eyes start to well up with tears.

"Don't be like that." Immediately the anger is gone, replaced by concern, "I'm only worried about you."

His hand reaches out to stroke your cheek, and you lean into it - does this mean that the worst of the storm seems to be over?

"You know I love you, right?"

Of course. It's obvious that Samuel loves you. And you love him too. He's only doing this for your sake.

"I know. Sorry for making you worry."