#I cannot express to you how warm it makes me feel that I have made so many friends here

[wolfiemcwolferson]

in more logan gets too personal on the internet

[anantaru]

— doing his eyeliner while sitting on his lap

including. xiao, neuvillette, zhongli

genre. fluff, gn! reader, slightly suggestive

— xiao

"hey, you're shaking xiao, i can't focus."

"tzzz, i'm not," xiao rasps— ugh, you're just so pretty, you know? with a faint dusting of light clinging to your eyes, delicate yet indifferent, as if the universe itself had carelessly bestowed it upon you. he believes there was something unsettling in your gentleness, a quiet radiance that seemed to exist beyond the confines of this world— beyond reason, beyond him.

his hands grip around your waist like you might disappear if he ever dared to let go of you as his ears were dusted a telltale red, to be fair, xiao cannot keep his hands of you, and in his opinion it should always be like this, never too far from each other— forever as he snuggles himself a little closer towards you.

you shift slightly, adjusting your position on his lap as he tenses like a tightly wound wire, his thighs firm beneath you, muscles twitching as if resisting the urge to latch onto you with his soft lips.

you bite back a smile, dipping the tip of the pencil against his lower lash line as his breath shudders, yet this wasn't fear, don't misread xiao for his reaction, it was not from discomfort— just something inside of him reacting almost fragile, tenderly beautiful yet he didn't quite know how to name such emotions.

"hah xiao, you're holding onto me like i might fall," you tease him, brushing your thumb under his eye to soften the colored line.

xiao swallows thickly, his gaze flickering, searching yours as his arms tighten around you, a quiet plea, a contradiction? "i wouldn't let you," he responds quietly, his words alone turning your heart aflame.

it was racing so fast to the point that it might rupture through the shape and flesh of your body. it's almost laughable how dearly you two adored each other— how the conqueror of demons, fierce and untouchable alike, was now just a man beneath your firm hands, coming undone over the slightest trace of your body moving atop.

his warmth seeps through his clothes, one by one, through yours, yes, burning into your skin where his hands grip your waist like he's afraid you'll slip away. he needs you, xiao does, and you can feel the faint tremor in his fingers as you press the liner to his other eye, his breath uneven, his body an open book— tense, passionate, but leaning into you like you're the only thing keeping him tethered.

"there," you whisper, pulling back slightly to admire your work.

xiao doesn't let go of you yet, instead he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his shuddering breath warm against your heightened skin, his touch a quiet fire, burning through your flesh and sinking deep into your very bones— although not with pain, but with the kind of warmth that made you realize you have always been cold without him.

"…do the other eye, please," xiao's voice was barely a muse, but you knew what he meant by it,

"stay,"

— zhongli

"I feel like you're enjoying this a little too much," zhongli finds it almost comical on how fast you could determine his mood as you accused him of the obvious— and the next smile he returned towards you felt slow as his hands easily rest at your thighs.

he tilts his head ever so slightly, offering himself up like something meant to be worshipped, when in fact, such was the case considering who he truly was.

"how could i not, love?" he exhales, his voice rich like aged wine dripping down the tip of your tongue— or honey, yes, now we got it, the sweetest of them all— spilling, slow and golden, from the corners of your mouth whenever you kissed him. as if even your lips cannot contain such excess, as if the world itself conspires to make you taste too much, feel too much, drown in the deep pleasure of it.

"my love, perched on my lap, so close, so intent, how could any man resist?"

you roll your eyes at him in order to hide your boiling all the more flustered expression, but the way your fingers tremble just slightly as you drag the liner along his lower lash line ultimately betrays you.

zhongli's amber gaze watches you, unreadable, indulgent as you bite down your lower lip, "hold still," and warn, ignoring the heat curling at the base of your spine.

"as you wish," he responds cheekily.

and yet, his voice descends— lower, smoother, as if sinking into the very marrow of the moment, curling like smoke in the hollows of your ribs, "though i wonder—" zhongli continues confidently, unraveling something unseen, something inevitable.

his hand slides up slowly, fingers curling at the nape of your neck, the touch featherlight, barely there, but you feel it like a brand, searing into your very being, leaving a mark of endless pleasure.

"—is it i who needs to stay still," his thumb brushes over your pulse,

"or you?"

your breath hitches as his lips curl at the edges with a slightly amused demeanor— an expression not quite a smile, not quite anything at all.

oh, he knows.

"i should stab you in the eye."

zhongli chuckles as his grip tightens, his chin slightly tilted, just a fraction, just enough that your noses almost brush, "if you must."

he winks, "though, i’d much prefer if you kissed me instead."

you swear the next line you draw on him will be just a little uneven.

— neuvillette

the storm groaned against the windowpanes, a ceaseless murmur like the whisper of some distant, unnameable grief as beneath you, neuvillette sat in stillness, his breath deep and steady— like an anchor against the restless howl of the wind.

his hands, resting with an almost absent-minded lightness upon your hips, betrayed neither urgency nor hesitation, only a quiet inevitability— the controlled rise and fall of his chest beneath your touch was steady, as if the weight of existence itself laid upon him and yet he bore it without complaint.

"you're very patient with me," you hum at him, your voice barely above the hush of the rain as your fingers find his chin, tilting his face with a careful adoration.

his skin was cool beneath your touch, smooth like polished marble— an artifact of restraint, a monument to something vast and unknowable, "and you're very careful," he replies, his voice low, "i find it… comforting."

you smile at him as your fingers trace slow paths along the delicate sweep of his lashes, the elegant lines of his face as the patience in him was almost sorrowful, an acceptance of longing as though he has lived with it for too long to protest.

then, without warning, he moves— a shift, so fluid and inevitable, and before you could catch your breath and register what was happening, neuvillette's face was buried in the curve of your neck, his lips barely parted against your skin.

an immediate warmth spreads through you, a heat that knots itself into the quiet places between your ribs.

although you freeze, your breath catches on something unnamed, something trembling between desire and disbelief;

"n-neuvillette?"

your voice sounded like a question, yet your body revealed an answer— your fingers curled at the nape of his neck, the press of his lips a silent confession.

his arms come around you at last, gathering you in, as though he has finally allowed himself this.

his nose brushes along your pulse, "mh? what were you saying?" as his arms tighten around your waist just slightly, holding— not trapping, just holding.

"you're supposed to sit still," you chide playfully, but your voice came out softer than you originally meant to.

he exhales, lips ghosting against your throat. "forgive me," he murmurs, "you are warm, i find myself comforted by your presence."

"—and you take such care of me."

©2025 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[prettyboykatsuki-moved]

chewtoy | s. gojo

✮ tags ; dead dove: do not eat, noncon, humiliation, abuse of power / power imbalance, master / servant relationship, titles like master satoru, he's being Really Fucking Weird (sniffs u a bunch...rip), oral(f!receiving) 18+

✮ wc ; 2k (????)

✮ a/n ; horrible horrible man. can he leave me alone. extension of this

"The young Master is calling for you."

You try not to flinch. Aiko gives you a warm, summery smile and a soft nudge to your side. You can only assume this means you've succeeded and she doesn't sense your disgust.

"He's so fond of you," She ends her sentence with a wispy sigh. "Must be nice to have a rich, powerful man fawn over you a bit, right?"

You remain indifferent. She smiles again. You think she is infinitely more beautiful than you. Soft, bouncy hair and smooth skin. Her naive nature makes her shine brighter than one thousand suns. It'd be nice if the young Master showed interest in someone like her.

You put the dream to rest quickly.

"You shouldn't keep him waiting," She hums. It's so innocent. "Go on, don't let me keep you."

You don't tell her you wish she would keep you. She is also right that you should not keep him waiting. If he's summoned you to his chambers deliberately, that means he is already feeling impatient. Master Satoru never seeks you out unless he is in some kind of mood.

He's had this habit since childhood. You've never made him aware of it, and you don't plan too. One of the few things you help you know what to expect from him.

You nod her along, tell her to finish up work in the living quarters to which she agrees merrily. Her spirits are lifted by the prospect of the young Master showing you fondness. Some part of you wishes you could share in her joy.

A pit of dread makes your steps heavy, but your footfall is light and beautiful. You are poised and cool as you walk along the dark, dreary hallways that lead to the Master's office.

A door swallowed in shadow, a single light shining on the golden plaque with the young Master's full name. You knock twice, announcing yourself.

"You're here," He says. You try not to flinch. You're certain you do not succeed. You are thankful he cannot see you - or you hope he can't. "Come in,"

You open the door and step inside to his office - shutting the door behind you. Muscle memory guides you to your curtsy. You bow politely.

"Yes, Master?"

"So stuffy," His voice makes your chest feel tight with discomfort. Frustration ebbs underneath it, cuts like a jagged edged knife. "At least call me, Satoru. Our relationship is much better than that, I thought."

"I could never be so informal to the young Master," You say, and then concede. "But I will call you Master Satoru, if you wish."

"How obstinate," He drawls. You do not life your head to see the face he makes. You already know what it looks like. It's burned into your mind. "But I suppose I'll make do. Lift your head."

You lift your head, but do not look at his face.

"Come closer,"

You step towards him, your lungs pushing air out of you manually. Remembering to breathe evenly is a herculean task. He beckons you closer until you're within distance of his touch.

He glances at you. "Look at me."

You try not to hesitate and force your eyes forward. His eyes undress you. Pointed gaze falls along your features, outlines your every inch, and analyzes your face. You remain even. He hums.

His frivolity is missing. This is suddenly more frightening. His mood is worse than you thought.

"Lift your skirt,"

Your muscles tense as you try not to shake. You succeed. He lets out a soft breath before he drops down onto his knees. You do not let yourself make any sort of expression, averting your gaze. He stares long and hard at your clothed pussy.

You tremble. He assess you silently, eyes flitting up.

"Sit in my chair with your skirt over your waist. So I can see you properly and all."

You listen to his instructions mindlessly. The velvet of his chair and warmth of his remaining body heat touch your bare ass and thighs. Satoru turns to you, still on knees. His hand wraps around your ankles and slips your shoes off of you.

You close your eyes. Sudden intimacy makes you slink back.

"Look at me."

It is is a command. You let your gaze fall on him again and watch on in excruciating nausea. Your stomach twists violently at the fragility of it all. Slender fingers hook into your knee socks and pull them down along your calve until they're off. His gaze catches yours. He does not smile at you. His hand comes around your ankle again and lifts your leg closer to his face. His nose presses against the bend of your foot.

He inhales. You try not to react but you can feel your eyes go wide. Feel your muscles clench, your heart sinking. Iron fills your mouth.

He lets his nose nudge up against the top of your calf.

"Young Master,"

He stares at you. Irritation flits through his gaze. There's no getting out of this, no mercy. You slink back again. He does smile that time.

Your body prickles with unwanted heat at the sensation. He licks along your legs, biting the supple skin - huffing the scent of your sweat every time he goes along. His teeth sink perversely into your flesh, sucking until there's throbbing, marks against your calves. The color of an orchid, purple and red. Fear strikes in you like a match. His grip on your ankles moves to the back of your calves and squeezes tight. He repeats the process on both calves intently.

There's claim to this. You know this part of him. He is claiming you with vicious confidence. Something with deeper magnitude then lust. For you, he is desire and ownership and want incarnat. A testament of his own beliefs. You willfully do no make noise aside from a gasp or breath.

You don't know how long it takes until he's satisfied with the state both legs.

He moves up. Bites the soft flesh of your thigh. You nearly spit out another useless plea. Shamelessness makes up his every move. His tongue slides over every single inch of your bare skin until his noses brushes along your cunt.

He doesn't lick you there. Not right away. Again he sniffs, breathes you in deep and uncomfortable. It's violating in all senses of the word, his grip tightening on your thighs as he huffs your scent. You haven't bathed. You've practically been running around since morning, but he doesn't let up and breathes you in anyway.

You squirm at that point. Your face contorts so slightly and he's watching you for it. His face finally cracks a smile and abject dread makes your spine lock up.

"Mm," He emphasizes the sound. It's so loud in such a quiet room. "That's it."

You don't have the strength to say anything.

It's frighteningly abrupt and rough, the feeling of his mouth along your pussy. He sucks at your clit from outside the fabric and you gasp - suddenly helpless. It's not the first time, of course not. But it's never this... random. Never this rough.

Your back arches at the sudden motion, face breaking - and Satoru grips you tighter and forces you back into the chair. Forces his tongue against your clit and sucks hard through the cotton material. Your body betrays you in its reaction - nipples pebbling underneath your clothes. Nearly screaming from the sensitivity. Your lower body is all ache - hickeys and bruises and bite marks making you throb perpetually. Too much, too much, too much.

Shame floods your system as the first spike of arousal forces itself from you - your cunt floods, gushing with a sudden spike of want from rough treatment. The sound of him sucking you so hard and drenching it with his saliva echoes across the room. You're sure it's traveling into the hall.

"Master Satoru," Your voice is even but it cracks on his name. Tears form at the corners of your eyes - fear and shame mixing into desperation. "Satoru,"

He hums into your pussy and you shake. "What is it? What wish would you like your master to fulfill for you.

"Please," Your voice is hoarse. Bone-deep exhaustion is out done by adrenaline. "Not through the fabric, please. It's dirty."

He sucks again and you keen - nails digging into your palms as you throw your head back.

"Your Masters spit soaking your panties is dirty? How rude." He teases. The whimper leaves your mouth without permission. You wish this would end soon but even amidst your fog you know that is not more than a pipe dream.

He takes them off. Rolls them down your thighs all wet and drops them. You let out a sigh of relief before his nose bridges touches your clit again. Swallowing the sound, you look away.

"It's soaked," He says conversationally, "Your needy little cunt is making a mess of your Master's chair. Tsk, tsk - so shameful."

"I'm sorry," You croak, unsure of what else to say. "I'll clean it."

He laughs, seemingly alleviated from his prior upset at the state of your humiliation.

"I'm sure you'll do an excellent job," He rests his hand over the mound of your sex - using pointer and thumb to spread your lips apart and get view of your swollen little clit. He breathes on it. "But you're still begging me for my attention down here. Filthy pussy for such a meticulous maid. Do you know how wet you are? Did you miss me so much?"

You don't answer him. He goes on.

"I thought of you all week," His voice is soft. Tinged with affection, or something like it. "Ahh, dealing with higher ups is such a pain."

You stare at him. He looks back at you with a smile. You flinch. You flinch certainly. "But I can always take it out on you, can't I? This perfect, filthy, needy cunt. It'll only every belong to me and I get to use it to my hearts content. I thought of that suddenly then called you."

It's not just your cunt he's interested in. That'd be relieving if that were the case. If he only ever used you to vent his sexual frustrations, treat you like a personal cocksleeve. You think it might be better that way.

He's too fond of you for that.

The young Master treats you like a chew toy instead. He bites, licks, slobbers, and misuses you. He might hump you to chase his high from time to time, might throw you around for rough sex should the mood suit him. But he's not a clueless oaf, some classless barbarian who only feels pleasure from his cock.

His violation is something else. It's deeper in scent, richer in taste. It is born from his greatness.

He's smart enough to know exploitation and that's what gets him off most. He exploits you. Exploits your reactive body, exploits your stoicism, exploits your dedication to your duty. You're his chew toy because you are designed to be unbreakable. You are indestructible.

But you have the perfect amount of give. You flinch, sigh, and whimper enough to make your Master thrilled. You squeak and moan like you're heat addled when he plays with you enough.

To Satoru, you're the most perfect thing to ever grace his life. His favorite toy that he's bitten at since he was just a boy and grew so fond of.

No matter how much you end up in tatters, Satoru can't help but love you with all of his heart.

You get exhausted being thrown around. But you can't go anywhere, either. He's so watchful of you. He might go crazy and bite if you were to disappear.

"Cum for me," He says, sucking on your clit much more softly. He's gentle but exact. Knows the ins and outs of your body enough to send you racing towards the edge with an unimaginable speed. You gasp and shudder, holding onto his chair for your life as an orgasm shoots through like lightning through a telephone wire.

You cum. You cum hard, bruised and mind-broken and nauseous and you cum so hard something spurts out of you and makes the chair wet. The young Master is nonplussed of course, and laps it up like a dog drinking water.

"Ahh, much better." He's pleased as he stands up and then bends down to your height. His hand cradles the back of your neck with a pleasant sigh as he forces a cum-soaked kiss onto your mouth. "Just as I thought, you were just what I needed."

Utterly defeated, you pull away with a gasp. "...I'm happy to serve you, Master Satoru."

"Such a nice sentence from your mouth, true or not." He gives you one more kiss, to the crown of your head. Too tender, too raw. "Prepare yourself to service me a bit more, then."

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

HEAR ME OUT

“Don’t you think I’m scary?”

“Scary? My god you’re divine”

AHHHHH

FuskqosnisisbssbjHWISNSKSOAOAKWAJ 😭😭🤭🤭😋😋

I love two lovestruck idiots who don’t know they’re in love w each other and it’s grumpy German shepherd x golden retriever 😻😻

PLEAAASEE german shepherd x golden retriever is one of my faaavvv tropes OAT !! it’s so so adorable and especially with katsuki cus i know he just thinks he’s so scary ! i got a lil idea after the recent manga chap that just came out, so this might be a liiiiiittle super small spoiler but i think its so cute ! hope you enjoy anon tysm for the ask ! much luv xxx

fem reader, super duper minooor spoiler but katsuki has stitches !, mutual pining, idiots in love, soft katsu (cus he has to be but also cus he’s whipped) (but hes still a little piece of shit) reader is a lil sweetie, short lil fluffy fic, touchy katsuki bc i cannot help myself, lmk if i missed anything else !

before the war, bakugou had made a lot of new little habits.

he’s made it a habit of waiting for you to head out of class so you could walk together. he’s made it a habit of sharing just a portion of his lunch with you, because apparently he’s constantly been making too much, ignore the fact that he only let’s you have those ‘extra’s’ that doesn’t mean anything.

he’s made it a habit of carrying around an extra water bottle with him because you always forget to keep yourself hydrated after training, he’s also made it a habit to scold you for it endlessly. he’s ruthless even as you whine about how mean he is, saying that “he wouldn’t need to be on your ass so much if you just remembered to grab your damn bottle.” he ignores the fluffy feeling in his heart and tells you to shut up when you tell him that he always has your back anyway, swiftly looking away from you and cheeks turning red.

and since you're on the way to his house, he's made it a habit of walking you home. you call it hanging out after school, he calls it 'just making sure you don't get lost somehow..hah ?! don't ask me how ! your dumbass would probably find a way to !'

anyway, he's made it his mission to grace you with his presence every day after school. you always bid him a cheery goodbye, "see you tommorow !" you say, and he always looks forward to it, even when he turns away, nonchalantly throwing you a quick wave over his shoulder.

usually you wake up at completely different hours, so he doesn't pick you up the morning. you always wished you could see him first thing in the morning, but seeing him waiting by the school gate's was more than enough to make your heart soar, you were more than happy with that.

but today you can finally go back to school. after dealing with non stop fighting for what felt, and probably was, hours and hours on end during the events of the war. and being stuck in the hospital for a few weeks, it feels nice to wear your school uniform and feel somewhat normal again. you'd get to see all your friends again and you'd official be a second year. you smile softly to yourself in the mirror.

katsuki had sent you a text a few minutes ago. he'd asked if you were almost ready, and you'd responded that you were only for him to leave you on read. you didn't mind much and shrugged it off.

but today, when you walk out the door, you see katsuki waiting for you on the sidewalk.

you blink twice, eyes widening. katsuki turns and looks up from his phone screen at the sound of the door he also blinks, although he's more unbothered then you as he simply stands up, pushing himself off his knees with a groan "took you long enough." he drawls. his eyes are warm and his lip twitch just the slightest bit at your expression "thought you'd keep me waiting forever."

"katsuki !" you exclaim, eyes still wide "what're you doing here ?!" you quickly walk to him, standing close enough to see the marks on his face, and the unmistakable stitches on his cheek.

he raises a brow like you're crazy, tilting his head "m'walking you to school."

"bwuh-are you even allowed to go to school ?" you sputter, realising he had his school uniform on, you liked it when he started making it a habit of wearing his tie more often. katsuki grumbles at your worries "shouldn't you be in the hospital ?" he scoffs at your fretting, but his eyes soften as he leans in closer to you. you see his battle scars better that way. you gulp at the sudden proximity, he's never been shy about getting in people's faces, although it was never meant to be intimidating when he did it with you, if the pink tint of his cheeks meant anything.

"doc said it's fine as long as i keep quiet.." he scoffs after finishing the sentence, rolling his eyes and causing you to giggle. hearing the sound he hadn't heard in what felt like ages made him sniff in amusement. you reach for his hand then, and he doesn't take his eyes off you while intertwining his fingers with yours. both your eyes shining with longing and affection for the other. you smile brightly at him and even though the doctors had told him to be careful with his heart, it seemed you were gonna make that hard for him. it didn't matter though, he was always up for a challenge.

pulling him along, you decide to tease him "guess that means you're gonna have to be on your best behaviour today, huh ? so you can't go gettin' mad at kaminari for no reason !" you playfully scold.

he rolls his eyes at the mention of your friend, though he doesn't hold back his smirk, he's definitely more open then he was compared to when you'd first started school. thinking about how far you've come together makes you happy, but it also feels bittersweet. "dunce face s'the who keeps pissin' me off, not my fault he can't handle it." you snicker and he snorts in amusement, squeezing your hand and making butterflies squirm around in your stomach. you don't mention the tight grip he has on your hand, probably because you're gripping his just as tight with no intention of letting go anytime soon. you probably look like a couple to the people walking by, you realise. and the thought does not displease you at all, far from it. it makes you a little too happy.

"behave." you squeeze his hand.

"i do." he growls, squeezing back, "he keeps trying me." you respond with a snort. your eyes occasionally fly towards his face, to the stitches on it more specifically. he's caught you looking multiple times on the way to the bus stop, not like you were exactly being subtle. your stare makes him nervous and he decides to finally confront you about it when you get to the bus stop.

"spit it out." he says, hands clammy in your grip, he hopes and prays you don't notice because it's so unbearably embarrassing to have to admit he was worried about what you'd think about his new look. he'd been anxious on your doorstep but you didn't give him much of a reaction, too shocked to even see him at the time, but your constant shifty glances made all the anxiety crawl back up again. so he speaks, keeping these distracting and frankly irritating thoughts to himself just irritated him.

you blink, humming curiously. katsuki grumbles to himself, keeping his eyes from yours. "ya keep staring at me, so what's up ?"

"it's strange seeing you with stitches." you answer bluntly. usually, he likes how honest you are, but right now it does nothing but stress him out. "i heard you messed your face up pretty bad, but i'm glad it didn't leave too much of a nasty scar." you muse. katsuki hums but his eyebrows furrow as he catches your last words, he's a little pissed off that you'd heard about what happened during the war. he'd wanted you to know as little as possible to keep from worrying you, or at the very least he'd wanted to tell you himself. he'll make sure to thoroughly question his fuckass friends later. of course, it also could've been her.

"..how'd you-"

"your mom told me."

he grunts. of course, it was his mom.

that damn hag..

"of course." he mutters bitterly. you don't respond, and to him that's all the answer he needs. a pit settles in his stomach.

"yeah, it's weird, isn't it ?" he agrees bitterly, unconsciously tightnening his grip on your hand. "it looks kinda creepy, right ?"

"what do you mean ?" his jaw tightens " i mean..like, on my face..." he sputter and mutters to himself, unable to properly say what he wants. you understand him though and immediately you turn till your face to face with him. your expression determined as you grab his other hand, both of his scarred hands now in your grip. his eyes widen in shock, embarrassment creeping up on him.

"there's nothing wrong with your face, katsu." you reassure, you'd made it a habit of calling him all those stupidly endearing nicknames, and it doesn't help taming the blush on his face slowly bleeding onto his cheeks. he pouts, fixing his gaze onto you and towards the floor.

"but doesn't it look..i dunno," he mutters, suddenly feeling self conscious "scary ?"

"scary ?" you tilt your head, he squints and looks away.

"i guess." he grunts with a nod, trying to save face. obviously it doesn't work by the look on yours. you're always so bubbly and sweet, he hates seeing such a pained expression on your face. you tug at his arms to get him to look at you "scary ? there's nothing scary about you.." you say sweetly, shaking your head. "i personally think you look really cool.." you mutter. katsuki feels his face heat, but his heart soars nonetheless. his eyes have been stuck wide for a second.

cool.

you think he looks cool.

"i was just wondering if they hurt ?" he tilts his head back in thought at that. instictively running his tongue on the inside of his cheek.

"nah, just felt weird when they were numbing it. but i didn't feel a thing." he shrugs, he suddenly smirks, the stitches being pulled up by the movement "wanna touch em ?" he teases, pulling you closer by the grip he still has on your hands. your eyebrows shoot to your hairline and he barks out a laugh.

"i-i can't do that ! what if i touch them and they come loose or something !" katsuki rolls his eyes at your jittering, using the hand still in his grip to bring it near his cheek, you desperately pull back and his evil smirk widens.

"katsuki, no !" you protest. he cackles meanly.

"it's fine." he insists, your pointer finger grazes his cheek and you turn your head away.

"i don't wanna !" you shake your head, your shoulders shaking as you hold back a giggle.

"yn. you're fine." he insists. he'd made it a habit of calling you by your first name after you'd started hanging out more. you called most of your friends by their first names pretty quickly into the year, your cheeriness making it easy for you to get along with everyone but you always were a little on guard with katsuki at first. he'll never admit it, but he was a little jealous that you'd call everyone in your shared friend group by their first name except for him. the sweet bubbly tone in your voice when you called for sero or kirishima made a nasty feeling bubble up in the pits of his stomach he'd desperately tried to push away. until one day he'd snapped during your group outing at the mall (outing he was coerced into going to by kirishima after finding out you where going too)

he'd regretted how whiney and bitter he sounded at the time, but he thinks it was worth it every time you'd look at him and say his name so sweetly, definitely worth it, as embarrassing as it was. and he'd started calling you by your first name too shortly after. all your friends do, but it felt so, so different with him.

finally your fingers make contact with the staples on his cheek. you peek up to look at him then. you run your fingers across them ever so softly, making sure not to hurt him. katsuki slowly let's go of your hand. unmoving and unnervingly still as you take your time scanning his face.

"so ?" he raises a brow, smirk slowly melting into a softer smile as he sees you smile to yourself.

"it's..not bad.." you tentatively start, still too worried to move too suddenly. he hums playfully. "and you don't feel it at all ?" you ask

"at all." he softly shakes his head. you don't realise you've gotten closer to his face but he sure has, and you end up realizing a little too late, but neither of you move away. you try to, but katsuki pulls you back in before you can get far. "do i still look cool up close ?" he jests, but there's some seriousness and vulnerability in his gaze. you smile warmly.

"yup," you say softly, you hear katsuki inhale sharpy, eyes never leaving yours "definitely still the coolest. not scary at all" you giggle, he rolls his eyes but chuckles. before you can question your positition or move away (or closer) to him you see the bus arriving in the distance. he notices it too and you share a look before you take a step back, smiling shyly at the floor while he keeps his gaze on the bus on the way.

until—

"OW, fuck !!"

your eyes snap up to see katsuki holding his cheek in his hand, your heart hammers and your eyes widen. you're next to him in two steps. "what, what—why-what happened ??!" you stammer, your hands reaching up to grab ahold of his face though you stutter, maybe it was your fault ?!

until—katsuki bursts out laughing. mean, but undeniably cute watery cackles that have you furrowing your brows in confusion until your jaw drops in realization.

the. asshole.

"you're not funny !" you whine, pushing at his arm although pushing might be the overstatement of the century. it could be more comparable to a nudge because even though he is an asshole, you wouldn't want to hurt him. even if he deserves it, you're better than that. you'll just think about hurting him.

katsuk chuckles breathelessly, grabbing your arm while you walk closer and stretch your arm out to signal the bus to stop. "it was funny, admit it !"

"you suck. you're the worst." scanning your bus ticket and walking ahead ignoring him, katsuki quickly scans his ticket and follows diligently behind you.

"you thought it was hilarious." he smirks.

"the absolute worst, the lowest of the low." you huff, ignoring the persistant heat of his eyes on you. he only snickers.

"i see you laughing."

today, you arrive to school with katsuki not at the school gates waiting for you, but walking together with you to start your new school year as second years. and you both hope you can make a habit out of this.

[starrydali]

hii i got a request for a luke castellan fic🤭

so i thought of it the other day.. what if its during a capture the flag game but reader and luke get carried away with yk.. making out or smth and they get caught !

do what you want with it, i just thought it could be cute😊

Friends With Benefits - Luke Castellan

∘°∘♡∘° Stoppp I love this so much♡

✧˖*°࿐*✧.┊You and Luke have always been close friends, but lately, things have been a little… complicated. You're not quite dating, but you're not just friends either. Stolen kisses here and there, moments where the line between friendship and something more starts to blur. ✧. ┊

The moonlight filtered through the trees, casting dappled patterns on the forest floor. You were supposed to be patrolling—Luke was supposed to be patrolling—but instead, you were backed against the rough bark of a tree, his lips brushing against yours in a way that sent your thoughts spiraling into chaos.

“Luke,” you mumbled between kisses, though you made no effort to stop him. “We’re going to get caught.”

He pulled back slightly, his face so close that his breath warmed your skin. His smirk was maddeningly cocky, the kind that made you simultaneously want to shove him and kiss him again. “Relax,” he said, his voice low and full of amusement. “You worry too much.”

“You don’t worry enough,” you shot back, your hands resting awkwardly on his chest, unsure whether to push him away or pull him closer.

Luke just chuckled, leaning in again, his lips brushing against the corner of your mouth before moving to trail down your jaw. “It’s adorable how you think anyone’s paying attention to us right now.”

You were about to retort when—

“Luke Castellan.”

The sharp voice cut through the quiet of the woods like a blade. Your head snapped toward the source of the sound, and your stomach dropped. Annabeth.

She stood a few feet away, arms crossed and a look of utter disbelief etched on her face. For once, her calculating gaze wasn’t directed at some strategic move in Capture the Flag—it was pinned squarely on the two of you.

“Oh gods,” you muttered under your breath, stepping away from Luke so fast you nearly tripped over a root.

Luke, on the other hand, didn’t seem the least bit fazed. He leaned casually against the tree, his arms crossed over his chest, and gave Annabeth his most infuriating grin. “Hey, Annabeth,” he said, as if she’d just caught him skipping chores and not...well, this.

“‘Hey, Annabeth?’” she repeated, her voice rising slightly. Her eyes flicked between you and Luke, her expression a mix of shock, confusion, and something that looked suspiciously like secondhand embarrassment. “What the hell was that?”

You opened your mouth to explain—or maybe apologize—but no sound came out. Your face was burning so hot you were sure it could rival Apollo’s chariot.

“We were just...uh...” Luke began, his grin widening as he glanced at you.

“Don’t,” Annabeth interrupted, holding up a hand. “Don’t even try to explain.”

Luke shrugged, clearly enjoying himself. “Alright, if you insist.”

“Luke!” you hissed, swatting his arm.

“What?” he said, feigning innocence. “I’m not lying. She told me not to explain.”

Annabeth groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I cannot believe this. You two are supposed to be best friends.”

“We are,” Luke said, the casual tone in his voice almost convincing.

“Best friends don’t...” Annabeth gestured vaguely between the two of you, clearly at a loss for words.

You wanted to sink into the ground and disappear forever. “This isn’t—it’s not—”

“Not what it looked like?” Annabeth supplied, raising an eyebrow.

You nodded furiously, though you weren’t entirely sure what you were agreeing to.

Luke, ever the opportunist, slung an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off him. “Come on, Annabeth,” he said, his tone light and teasing. “Can’t two best friends share a kiss now and then without it being a big deal?”

“No!” Annabeth snapped, her face incredulous. “No, they can’t!”

“Well,” Luke said, his smirk practically glowing in the dark, “guess we missed the memo.”

Annabeth threw her hands up in frustration. “You’re both unbelievable.” She turned on her heel and stalked back toward the creek, muttering something about idiocy and never being able to unsee things.

As soon as she was out of earshot, you turned to Luke, your jaw dropping. “What is wrong with you?”

“Nothing,” he said, his expression far too pleased with himself. “That went better than I expected.”

“Better?” you repeated, your voice a mix of disbelief and mortification. “She’s never going to let us live this down.”

“Probably not,” Luke agreed, his grin softening into something almost fond as he looked at you. “But hey, at least now you know what you're dealing with.”

“And what exactly am dealing with?” you asked, narrowing your eyes at him.

Luke’s gaze flicked briefly to your lips before meeting your eyes again. “A best friend who doesn’t play by the rules.”

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth in your chest betrayed you. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet, here you are,” he teased, leaning in just enough that your noses brushed.

You shoved him lightly, though the smile tugging at your lips was impossible to hide. “Come on,” you said, grabbing his wrist and pulling him in the direction of the creek. “Let’s actually do our job before we get caught again.”

“Whatever you say, best friend,” he said, his laughter echoing through the trees as he followed you.

✧. ┊ Send requests! :)

[revelboo]

Revel I cannot express enough how much your writing sparks a giddy feeling in my heart and stomach! You have such a way with words!

May I humbly ask for some mechs reacting to their little human crafting something as a gift for them? Your choice of bots/cons! I just think they would be fascinated at how our tiny fragile hands worked so hard to make something just for them :)

Thank you so much!

Making a Gift For Them Headcanons

Wheeljack

• Vocal indicators blinking when you triumphantly hold up the tray, he can’t help but smile behind his mask. You’ve got energon smudged on your cheek and staining your fingers. And sure, there wasn’t really a reason for you to take a cookie cutter as you’d called it to perfectly good semi-solid energon goodies, but he appreciates the effort. That you’d wanted to make him something special. Expression hopeful and uncertain, he takes the tray from you and sets it down, before pulling you into his arms. “Thank you,” he says, smiling at your puzzled ‘Don’t you want to try them first?’ Couldn’t care less about how they taste, all that matters is that you’d made them for him. Thought of him.

Starscream

• “You made this? For me?” Hooking an arm around your waist, he drags you into him. Doesn’t even care what it is, only that you’d thought of him and made a gift that’s only his. Not Soundwave’s. Not Megatron’s. His. “I knew you loved me best. Were loyal to me,” he growls, pressing his face against your neck.

• Face flushing as he wraps himself around you, there’s no point in bursting his bubble and explaining that you’d made new polishing cloths for all of them, painstakingly stitching their names on each one. He’s happy and that’s all that matters.

TFP Ratchet

• Venting tiredly as you bend over his hand, you’d insisted he mass shift and give you his hand. Has so many things he needs to get done, but hadn’t been able to say no to you. So his hand is in your lap, your back to him so he can’t tell what you’re doing, but he can feel you messing with his servo. “Okay, doc,” you say, grinning as you hold up your hand and he frowns at you. You wrote his name around one of your fingers? Lifting his own hand, he finds your name around his servo. “I figured your hands were too big for a wedding ring and if I did find one big enough, you’d just break it mass shifting.” Shrugging at him, it’s the wedding part he’s latched on to. Knows from talking to June that it’s a human bonding ceremony. And you’d laid your claim on him, marked him as yours, his spark warming. “Don’t worry, it’s not permanent. It’ll wash off eventually,” you add when he’s silent, shoulders hunching. ‘If I wanted it to be permanent?’ He asks, voice a gruff rumble and your face heats.

Tarantulas

• Lowering himself to his peds and bending when you imperiously wave him down, his extra limbs cage you as you attach the thing you’ve made to his chassis. Flowers? Knows you’ve been ranging away from his lair hunting some and that you’d given him an absolutely scandalized look when he’d suggested that there were plenty of fake flowers right outside. Apparently, you’d considered taking those grave robbing. “It’s lovely?” Doesn’t know what to make of this, but you’d thought of him. Made something with those soft hands for him when not that long ago you were frightened of him. And you lean up and brush your mouth against his mandibles. Freezing aside from one extra leg that hooks and taps against your thigh.

Constructicons

• “Oh for Primus’s sake,” Scrapper growls as Bonecrusher shoves him aside, hands cupped. And you smile up at him, leaning to lay the tiny, paper swan you’d folded in his palm. You’d made the thing for him, but it’s not like he has any use for it. But it’s the principle of the thing. You made it for him, not Bonecrusher. That’s his and he’s going to have it or die trying to take it. Seizing his much bigger brother by the wrist, Bonecrusher head butts him when he tries to take the swan. “It’s mine!” Barely aware of you retreating into your tiny habsuite with a disgruntled ‘I made you all one.’

Earthspark Soundwave

• Growling as he vents, his servos flex when you lower your hands and your little offering. And for some reason your disappointment bothers him. Can’t even figure out why you’d make him something to begin with. Hasn’t he made it abundantly clear that he doesn’t want you here? That you’re only an intruder and a nuisance? “Yeah. Nevermind,” you mumble, turning away and now his cassettes are staring at him. “It was silly anyway.” He might as well have kicked you with the way Frenzy is frowning at him. Even Ravage looks unhappy with him. Snarling, he leans and pinches the back of your shirt between two servos and tugs you back. ‘Give it here,’ he demands as you shoot him a surly look. Apparently not wanting him to have his gift anymore. ‘Now.’ What is he even going to do with this? And maybe it is sweet that you’d thought of him and wanted to make him something, but he’s not admitting that to anyone. Let alone you.

[knavesflames]

𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓌𝑒𝓇 𝓈𝑒𝓍 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝒶𝓇𝓁𝑒𝒸𝒸𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑜

hello friends, I have arrived. As per the poll, shower sex was first. I had trouble figuring out how to do this but settled on this. I hope you enjoy! (it’s supposed to snow on monday, god save me) (i always end my fics with humour why)

Word count: 2.1k

Contents: shower, tired arlecchino, fingering, it’s soft they love each other fr

nsft utc!

Arlecchino’s favourite thing to do after a long day of dealing with incompetent Fatui grunts is come home and see you. You greet her the same way each time, greeting her with a soft hum, waiting for her to appear in your vision. She appreciates that you give her space to at least take her blazer off. She does it hastily, the garment often being left on the floor by the doormat to be picked up by her on the way to bed later that night. You always seem to be cooking when she comes home, something you have learned to time perfectly— you know she gets hungry when she comes home, and you know she’ll only forget to eat. Each time she moves to the kitchen to wrap her arms around you, a soft sigh leaves her lips, her own subtle way of smelling what she can only describe as pure domesticity.

Arlecchino’s job requires her to be many things. Ruthless, unfeeling, violent, even. When her hands graze your waist, you feel none of that. The hands belong to a woman full of love, even if she cannot express it. You do things for her that no other person would. When you share a meal, for example, you leave any spices out of it (to her satisfaction, much to your own dismay), until the end, after you’ve plated whatever food it is and placed it on the table. It takes more time, but the small flicker of gratitude in her eyes when she sees the colour difference, or smells the difference of the two dishes, warms your heart.

Your eyes inspect her as she eats. Expressionless as she is, she isn’t very good at hiding her feelings. Not with you, anyway. “What’s the matter?” Your quiet voice comes out as a sort of hum as you glance up at her. You watch her hand slows, the metal of the fork reflecting the ceiling light.

“I am tired. Clearly, nobody in this organisation can do their jobs. I do not understand how we are to revive the—“ She cuts herself off before she says anything else. You know well enough that she doesn’t talk about work at home. You do not ask her to. You watch as her hand comes up to release her hair from her signature ponytail, a smile making its way to your face when her snowy strands cascade down her shoulders, disappearing behind her back. When her hair is down, she looks almost soft. Kind. You know, deep down, buried under the facade of strictness (that you beg her to stop applying to herself— she never listens), she is a woman full of love. You know that much because even during nights where her nails are biting into the skin of your thighs, or your hips, or even on occasion, your neck as she draws sound after sound out of you, the other hand is always caressing some part of you, her eyes always full of tenderness.

You remember one of the first times you had sex with her— it was the first time you had attended one of those stupid Fatui balls with her. You had let her pick out the outfit herself, and she enjoyed herself thoroughly. You had barely gotten into your apartment before she had picked you up and laid you softly on the bed sheets, grumbling about how you never made your bed. You were still figuring each other out— what worked, and what didn’t. Midway through, when you weren’t thinking, you whispered. “Degrade me.” Your eyes moved to look into her own, only to be met with an immediate frown. “I will not. How could I ever say such things about you?” You tried to explain, perhaps wondering if she was unaware of what it truly was. She did know, she couldn’t fathom saying a bad word to you, even in such a situation. You learned then how soft she truly was.

“A shower would help,” you muse through a mouthful of the food. “Warm water is good for tense muscles. You’re tense, you can barely keep your shoulders relaxed.” Her eyes move towards the food in front of her. For some reason, she isn’t too hungry. Work has stressed her incredibly, to the point her sentences are short and curt. Her face is apologetic after, you know she means well. You allow it. “I can wash your hair, I know you like that.” After deliberation, she lets out a small hum, a yes.

Once your stomachs are full, you move to place them in the sink, vowing to yourself that you’ll clean them later (you’ll forget). Taking her by her blackened hand, you gently, but insistently drag her towards the bathroom. Her footsteps are heavy on the floor as she reluctantly follows along. Something has obviously happened at work, you think, because she is just so stressed. You plan to make sure the water at least relaxes her muscles.

Once the water is warm enough and both of you have undressed in quiet silence (she has her showers so hot you can’t touch the water. You don’t understand how she can withstand such heat), you guide her into the shower, your touch as gentle as it’s always been. You listen to the barely audible sigh that escapes her when she feels the water touch her skin. “Good?” You murmur softly, smiling when you hear her hum in appreciation, her shoulders slowly slumping. You know Arlecchino well, it seems. Her hand comes up to cup your cheek, the feeling is different than it usually is— the water is warm, her hand is somehow even warmer. In turn, your hand does the same, cupping her cheek with such softness it seems you’re barely touching her.

“I haven’t seen you like this in so long,” her voice is as smooth as it usually is, the same velvety tone despite the exhaustion. “I almost forgot how beautiful you are. Almost.” A chuckle leaves your throat at the wry smile that appears on her face. “You are stunning, but you must take better care of yourself, Peruere.” Your gentle chiding causes a huff to escape from her, a dismissal, you know that much. You open your mouth to chide her once more, but her lips swallow your words before you can even form a syllable. It’s a soft kiss, softer than the usual kisses she gives you. When you part, you can’t help but gasp and choke slightly at the water dripping onto your face, and into your mouth.

“Did you just swallow some?” She asks, a small chuckle rising in her throat. A hand comes up to gently shove her before you giggle, a sound that also is quickly drowned out by her lips. Her kiss is different this time, with more fervour and need in it. You let both of your hands wander until the meet and rest on the nape of her neck, fingers gently scratching at the wet hair strands. Arlecchino’s own hands gently guide you towards the wall, giving you respite against the relentless water stream. The air is thick with heat and steam, the mirrors fogged, but it seems neither of you are paying any attention to it. Her hands wander, tracing every part of your body she can reach. When you break for air, her lips take purchase on the skin of your neck, kissing and sucking gently marks onto it, marks you know will stay for a few days. You like it.

“You’re always so good to me,” she mumbles, nails slightly dragging against your skin. It feels good in a way you can’t explain. “Let me take care of you, hm?” You can’t see her face, but you can picture it, and the thought alone has you nodding breathlessly. Prying your legs gently apart, she lets out a breath against your neck, her voice changing to one that always has you melting.

“It’s been so long, hasn’t it? You must be so desperate.” It’s a question that doesn’t need answering. You’re very well aware that you’ve spent nights trying— and failing, to recreate what she does to you. She’s aware because despite the water that wets your skin, you’re the wettest you’ve ever been when her middle finger glides across your folds, eliciting a small gasp from you. She hums, pleased at the sight of her finger glistening (before it is quickly washed away by the water) when she pulls it back. A whine practically rips from your throat when you feel her absence, and you begin to wonder how you’ve managed to become so desperate within minutes. On a usual day, she’d tease you until you begged for it, but all she wants is to see your face when you reach the peak of your orgasm. It’s the one thing she thinks about when she’s on her missions, or when she's sat at the office— the way you cry her name, her real name, the way you tremble. The thought causes her to make a sound you swear she’s never made before, a whimper.

Her finger moves back to where it was, caressing and moving through each fold until she’s circling your entrance. You’re grateful she clips her nails (she’d rip them off if you told her to). Arlecchino’s red crosses meet your own eyes, and her eyebrows twitch in question. When you nod in response, your hips moving slightly, the corners of her lips twitch slightly in a smile as she presses her finger in, then another. The noise that comes from you can only be described as unholy, and it drives Arlecchino on further. She lets you get used to the sensation before she curls her fingers up into the same spot you happen to miss every time you do it yourself. Your eyes fly open and your lips part, but she speaks before you can make noise.

“Shh, be quiet. The shower doesn’t muffle everything.” You know nobody will hear anyway, but she’s always liked the idea of you trying to stay as quiet as possible, the look on your face every single time a louder moan escapes you. Perhaps it’s some sort of fantasy she has, to get caught, or at the very least, the prospect of being caught. You’re ripped out of your thoughts when Arlecchino curls her fingers again, finding a rhythm that has you bucking your hips. She leans down, mouth attaching to one of your nipples, and she practically groans herself. The water has formed droplets on your skin, and she thinks it makes you look even more appealing. There seems to be something about you, in the shower, whispering her name that seems to get her. She swears she could practically orgasm herself just at the sight of you.

“Peruere, please,” comes the mewl from you, words mixed with shaking breath. She (and you, for that matter) feels you clenching around her, and it only drives her to continue. A hand comes to rest in the soaked strands of her hair, tugging gently, and she knows it’s a sign that you’re close. Again, she chuckles, releasing your chest and moving her lips back to your own. Her tongue touches your bottom lip, and when you, somehow, in your pleasure clouded mind, deepen the kiss, her thumb finds your clit. The pressure is light, and it takes only a couple of circular movements before your hand in her hair tightens, your voice rising to a soft cry as you finally get the orgasm you’ve been chasing (alone or not) for such a long time. Her movements continue until your gasping turns to heavy breathing, and your eyes manage to focus on her again. Only then does Arlecchino pull out her fingers, holding them up to show you, like she always does. She knows it embarrasses you, she can tell by the way you avert your gaze. And as expected, you practically choke on your own saliva when she doesn’t hesitate in cleaning her fingers. Not by running them under the water, but letting her tongue flicking out of her mouth to lap up the evidence of your pleasure.

“What are you— you can’t do that.” You sound practically horrified at the notion (like you haven’t spent nights with her fingers in your mouth to keep you quiet, or to do exactly what she’s doing now. You enjoy those. It isn’t so bad when you’re tasting yourself, for some reason). Eventually, when she sees your wide eyes, she relents, moving to run them under the water.

The water isn’t as hot anymore, having dulled to a lukewarm temperature. “The water bill will be high this month, I assume.” Arlecchino says it with such nonchalance that you can’t help but snort. Biting your lip, you join her in her joking. “I didn’t wash my hair. Warm it back up. I know you can.”

[palajae]

than ever! | nrk.

PAIRING... rich kid! riki x reader | GENRE... angst, romance, fluff | WC... 3.9k | warnings... curse words, not proofread | listening to happier than ever by billie eilish :)

may 2025. 

your practiced smile meets the bajillion flashes of the cameras, screams by love struck fans, and questions from the nosy reporters. yet all you could focus on was the cold, firm hand placed perfectly at the small of your back. 

your husband and you make the picture perfect couple. an ideal appearance for your second year anniversary—you yourself cannot believe how much time has passed. 

how you ever managed to make it this far, this long—it’s almost unbelievable. 

“what are the lovely couple’s plans after the gala?”

your smile falters just a smidge. probably not even perceptible from any outsider’s perspective.  

plans?

ha, says who? 

your plan—from the start—was to remain the ideal wife. appear at every public appearance with your husband, by his side, just like this one sponsored by his parents. 

and obviously, pretend that you’re happier than ever. every damn time. you laugh softly, smile as bright as the extravagant lights and decor all around you.

the car ride home is silent, as per usual. it’s not like the atmosphere is cold—your driver eyes the both of you through the rear view window—it’s simply dead. 

your hand fiddles with the pearl earring on your left ear. mentally, you review your plans for tomorrow. another photoshoot, another interview. once upon a time, you only could’ve imagined a life like this. 

what would your parents say? seeing you like this? they gave you away happily, as happy as you tried to seem in front of them. 

you feel his eyes on you. it makes you shudder. for a split second, you allow your eyes to flicker over to the body sitting next to you.

you can’t even hate your own husband—you can only feel absolutely fucking nothing towards him now. 

his family was one of the most prominent ones in the entertainment industry. and their successor son was the golden child. 

you could only dream of the past, the what-ifs and all the warm nostalgia. how your life could have been so different. if you didn’t succumb to fame and success. would your life be utterly different? like back then?

with him? 

all your memories contained him smiling, running, fighting, and sweating. he was human—able to love and be loved. so, completely different from the man you married. his flawlessly styled hair and porcelain skin piss you off.

maybe you were too late. grew your power and status, rising to the top of the modeling industry a little too late. if only you got to him, found him, a little bit earlier. 

the car comes to a halt. you simply blinked, and suddenly you made it back. it was an unintentional skill you had developed to make the car rides back quicker. you open the door for yourself, automatically walking out. 

you can hear his footsteps follow you, the click of his shoes cause you to frown. your husband is following you, yet you want the distance to grow. 

you walk faster, only stopping when you hear the pace of his footsteps quicken. your lip curls up in disgust. so, you whip around, crossing your arms with an emotionless expression on your face. you can’t believe you’re wasting your breath again.

“don’t. you embarrass me.”

his eyes are unreadable. “you left your purse in the car.” 

your eyes narrow at his grip on the delicate strap. an expensive purse ruined by such a simple action. it almost hurt you like it used to. 

you look him dead in the eye when you say, “everything good i have is ruined by you.”

you mean it. 

with that, you turn and walk the paved path into your house. with him, you could never call it a home. he made you hate this city. you once thought your husband could be your everything. now it all makes you fucking sick. 

unlike before, you’re happier than ever to be apart from him, while you can only dream of the one that got away. 

there’s only one rags-to-riches, real life cinderella, story. and it’s yours.

your humble background is what allowed you to become so successful—to be named the “it-girl” of the nation. it allowed you to meet and marry the perfect man. your life now is what others dream of, what people talk about on the internet and what fans obsess over. 

looking back, would you do it all over again? 

august 2017. 

you wipe the sweat off your forehead as you clean the table with one final sweep of the rag. you hear the whistle blowing from the field across your family’s small store. 

was it time already? 

growing up next to the most prestigious academy in the nation came with its pros and cons. 

pro: the rich kids stopped by. 

cons: the rich kids stopped by. 

but business was business, after all. when business was slow, you would watch the faint figures, looking like peanuts, run across the field with a ball, about the same size as a pin. it made you laugh to yourself, seeing such tenacious, rich boys freak out over a rubber sphere filled with air. 

“do you guys sell taiyaki?”

you blink at the boyish frizzled hair, glistening honey-kissed skin, and ruffled grass-stained jersey.

“…this is a convenience store.”

“well, then-anything with custard?”

you fumble before quickly stalking over to the small refrigerated area at his expectant look. you doubted it, but maybe… sometimes, your mother stocked up on the desserts—when he was in a good mood.

looking past the glass, you exhale before turning to the soccer player sheepishly, “um.. no, but we have frozen red bean buns?” 

you trail off awkwardly, scratching the side of your head. you gesture towards the exit, “you know, there’s a bakery down the street… you could’ve gone there first,” you add with a mumble. 

he simply nods and leaves without another word.

you cross your arms, peeking out the door to watch his figure get smaller and smaller until it eventually disappeared. you scrunch your nose up—what a weird guy. 

you squint at the fine print on the back of his jersey:

nishimura #09 

must be a soccer player at the nearby academy. what were the chances you watched him play on that field without knowing? 

the players often came after a long practice to grab drinks and snacks, but this was the first time you had ever seen him before. when you told your mother about the weird encounter, she only shook her head. 

it’s only after that day you begin to hear whispers of the next upcoming pro soccer star—nishimura riki. you’re a little surprised to find out that strange guy was a soccer prodigy. 

you’re even more surprised when nishimura begins to become a regular. some days he comes in nonchalantly, asking for a protein drink, and other days he simply comes and sits down without some made up excuse. 

“don’t you have school work? a house to stay at and family to be with?” you ask, not out of annoyance, but genuine curiosity. your mother shoots you a sharp glare that you look away at. 

“soccer is my life,” he replies simply. you observe his designer backpack and newest model phone. what kind of life did riki live in which he never wanted to go home? 

“that’s okay. here, you can relax,” your mom assures him. that’s the first time you see riki smile. 

his soccer friends will occasionally join him. you have to actively hide the disdain on your face when all the ruckus and stink of them enter the store. you could stand nishimura riki, but not him with his friends. 

you didn’t really notice until the fan girls started piling up at the door, it causes you to study riki with a sigh. your cheeks warm, you suppose…

he was sort of handsome? 

pinching your nose bridge exasperatedly, you glare at riki. “can you tell them to leave? they’re disturbing customers and blocking the door. this is horrible for our business.”

riki looks up, “who?” 

you grip the broom tighter in your hands and point it outside like it was a weapon. 

“they’re not my problem,” he only shrugs. you roll your eyes, “please?” 

your mom shoots the two of you an amused glance from the cashier desk. 

riki groans before getting up with a click of his tongue, “since you asked so nicely.”

you watch his games with stars in your eyes, sitting in the far bleachers with your mom. a bag of freshly cooked side dishes sit by your feet, waiting to be given at the end of the match that riki would win. your gaze could never leave him. 

every movement of his, the sheer determination and fire burning in his eyes, it only inspired you. you never knew how much love a person hold towards a passion until you met nishimura riki. 

he was born for soccer. or, soccer was made for him. maybe, one day, you could find your own spark. 

during christmas, riki helps you set up a small tree outside the store. you giggle as he struggles to hang up the ornaments. 

seeing the wonder in his eyes, akin to a small child opening presents for the first time, it makes you wonder if he has ever done this before. after all, he spent all of his time at the convenience store with you whenever he wasn’t practicing. he never once mentioned his family or home. he never acted snotty or spoiled like the other academy kids, no matter how talented and rich he was. 

you learned although riki has such a lavish life, it could never be as rich as a life like this—full of love and happiness. right? 

his hands linger over yours as you put the finishing touch, the twinkling star, on the top. 

“it’s best to share the christmas spirit with everyone,” you say decisively and the smile he sends you after makes you think… 

you may have a small crush on him. 

you’re the most surprised when a rather intimidating lady in sunglasses pops by the convenience store one afternoon, handing you a business card. 

“why do you look shocked? you’re pretty.” 

you blush at riki’s simple statement. 

modeling? you had never considered it, that’s for sure. you always thought you were going to become a writer. after all, your mother always praised your literature skills. 

her face is unreadable, she was only looking at you the entire time the scouting manager was talking to you. 

“what do you think, mom?” you glance at her curiously. 

“it’s your choice…of course.” 

you study the card with scrunched up eyebrows. trying it out wouldn’t hurt, right? and some extra money for the family would be nice, as well. 

the first gig that you you were able to book, your life changed forever. 

your mom smiles and kisses your forehead. a small, white dainty bag is shoved to your face. you blink, eyes focusing on the words. they bulge as you gasp at riki. 

“how much was this? you-“

he huffs as he pats your head, “congrats. it’s nonrefundable, so don’t try to return it.” 

you glance up at him, emotions swirling through your eyes. suddenly, your arms are thrown around him. he’s speechless, eyes wide and wind knocked out of him. for a moment—you really felt like your hearts stopped. together, in sync. 

for just that one second, the world stopped revolving. 

however, he isn’t able to respond when your mother comes back in the store with an unreadable expression. 

“riki.”

you feel him freeze, turn cold right in your arms. you glance out, at the polished mercedes benz parked and waiting outside. perhaps that was the start of the end. 

riki suddenly bows to the both of you. “thank you. for everything i, um…”

the car honks, and he gives you one last lingering look before heading out. you stare at the bag, and then your mom, whose expression makes your stomach drop. 

“he’s not coming back, is he?”

february 2023. 

“aren’t you excited?” 

“obviously! i would be if i was marrying a rich guy like him. plus, just look at his face! and body-i mean, his proportions are crazy.…”

you tune out the chatter, closing your eyes. the hair stylist puts her finishing touches on your hair while the makeup artist sprays a fixer on your face. 

“-y/n?” 

your eyes fly open. “hm?”

they look at you, more excitement in their eyes than you ever had when finding out. 

“aren’t you happy? this is going to be the wedding of the century! all the top idols and celebs are invited…”

“a love story just like in the dramas-!” 

you stare at your reflection in the mirror. every day not already booked with your work schedule was spent on the wedding. it made you sick. 

trying on different dresses, experimenting out makeup and hair styles, you simply  nodded to it all. whatever made your mom happy, sure. 

how many flavors of cake were you going to taste? how many tiers were there going to be? none of it was necessary. 

you were sick of planning all the flowers, and draperies, and light fixtures like you even had a say in the first place. 

you always imagined that you would get married in a simple courtyard, with only close friends and family. wearing your mom’s dress, eating home cooked food family style. 

all with your groom right by your side. your husband who would happy with anything, as the only thing that mattered was getting married to you. one time, you had dreamed of marrying him with that forever smirk on his face, smelling constantly like grass and men’s deodorant that you never found out the name of. 

but a fantasy would always remain a fantasy. 

how long would you stay stuck in the past?

you close your eyes again, and the words ring in your ears just like when your now fiancé spoke to you. 

my parents were going to set me up with a stranger. i thought this proposal would be for the best. 

your eyebrows twitch. 

you motherfucker. 

it all made sense. the media would eat it up. your parents would eat it up. and now that you had established your presence in the industry, so would his parents. 

how could you say no? 

you didn’t even have a choice. the agreement was signed faster than you could open your mouth and protest. this marriage—no, this agreement, was the best thing that could’ve ever happened to you. 

and yet, all you could wonder is, 

did he actually come up with the idea? 

or was it all a business tactic? 

october 2019. 

the wind blows the crispy leaves across the pavement. you don’t have to wear a mask or any sort of identity-covering clothing, yet. but you do have a manager who has allowed you two hours of free time. 

your parent’s convenience store closed down last year in order for you to focus on your rising career. it was a simple curiosity that dragged you back to check on the spot.  

although it’s a tech store now, you’ll never forget the time you spent here growing up. and then, meeting someone you never expected to change your li-

the call of your name breaks you out of your trance. 

that voice. 

it can’t be.

you whip around, hair flying behind you. your jaw drops, “r-riki?”

you can’t believe it, hands shaking. in front of you stands a taller, sturdier nishimura riki. gosh, how much time had passed? 

you lost his number when you switched to a newer, better phone and subscription plan. you thought you had lost him forever. 

he slowly walks up to you, identical smiles mirroring each other and growing on both of your faces. 

“i can’t believe it… w-what are you doing here?”

unconsciously, you grip his track jacket. as if, you had to check and make sure he was actually in front of you. you weren’t dreaming again, right?

“i finally got a break from training. my coaches said we could go anywhere and…” he shrugs before gesturing at the former convenience store. 

“i didn’t know it closed down. this is the first time i was able to come back.”

your eyes sparkle, “you’re still playing?”

he nods and you breathe out a sigh of relief. “good. you’re too good for the sport.”

he laughs and you almost melt at the sound. 

“wanna take a little walk?”

it’s too comfortable, you fall into your old rhythm again. a pleasant silence falls over the two of you as you walk past the stores, the old soccer field, strolling past your childhood. 

“i wanted to come back, so many times,” he murmurs. you cautiously glance up at him, waiting silently for him to continue. 

he scratches the back of his neck, “but playing for the u-20s doesn’t really allow that so…��� 

“i-i tried looking for you online, though.”

you mask your laugh with a cough. “ah. that must be because my manager controls all my accounts. they must’ve thought it was spam or a prank. sorry.” 

riki’s quick to shake his head, “no, no. i get it. we’re both busy. but maybe we could, like, stay in touch this time.” 

you kick a stray leaf with your foot, hiding a bashful expression. 

“we should.”

he turns to you, and you realize you made it back to where your store once stood. it’s much darker—your manager is going to be mad. your mother, too. 

“promise. promise you’ll make it to the world cup and promise you’ll keep me updated.” 

“i promise. you’ll be right by my side cheering, right?”

when he takes a step closer, you swallow. then, you close your eyes. a beat passes, two beats.

a sharp inhale and then you feel something warm press against your lips. only for a second. 

it’s nice. it feels.. right.

you decide then and there: nishimura riki just might be your first love. you hope, secretly and privately, somehow, he’ll be your last too. 

july 2021. 

“y/n!” your manager hisses and you hold back a huff. “come here-there’s someone you need to meet!”

you quickly bid farewell to a friend, a recently debuted idol in the industry, and scramble as fast as you can over in those damned heels. 

as soon as you reach her, you slow and the inviting smile is wiped off your face. there, standing right in front of you, is a man you don’t recognize. 

you refuse to recognize him. 

“this is nishimura riki! you might have heard of him on the news recently. he’s the future successor, taking over-“

that’s actually hilarious. she knew you didn’t have time to check the news anymore. her words are drowned out in the realization of it all. 

for the first six months, the two of you were good at staying in touch. you couldn’t really meet with you flying all over the world for shoots and riki with his rigorous training schedule. 

but you were convinced you could keep it up. maybe he wasn’t. or maybe it was a mutual understanding—busy schedules and changing lives were a lot to handle. you don’t know who sent the last message and who failed to respond. it’s been a little too long to remember anything but the lingering feelings. 

you frown, “your hair is up.” 

he falters, before fixing his tie. “yeah, i-they told me it looks more professional.” 

the nishimura riki you knew hated having his bangs out of his face. he hated stiff, restrictive clothes and all that fancy attire. 

“you look nice.” 

you take a step back. 

future ceo? 

you weren’t dumb. you knew the nishimura family was powerful. you just didn’t know he was weak enough to succumb to it. you actually thought he would be the one to break free and follow his dreams. 

“i thought… i thought you had finally done it, riki,” you say softly, staring sadly into his dark eyes. they don’t hold the same light and energy as they used to. 

“why are you doing this to yourself?”

he takes a step closer and you bite the inside of your cheek. you hate this riki. you hate the fancy, expensive smell that wafts off him. you want to wash it off. 

his confused expression makes you want to puke. 

“i don’t have a choice.”

“you were right there!” you jab a finger accusingly into his chest, before your hand drops lifelessly to your side. you turn away with confusion, disgust, and hurt brewing internally. you didn’t know this man. 

“i love you.” 

your heart stops. your feet still. yet, all you can do is shake your head. 

“stop.”

he takes your hand and it’s cold and smooth and not like the calloused, warm hands of nishimura riki. how could he change this much in less than a year?

“i’ll do anything to get you back—please! i don’t care that my parents want me to find a rich heiress, i’ll tell them my eyes are only for you.”

his words only made you wonder—did he ever notice your face plastered on billboards? read any of your interviews posted online? 

you turn around with mirth swimming in your pupils, “oh, that’s very kind of you. use all the power and fame you’ve gained.”

he frowns.

“aren’t you just saying that because you’re scared? you aren’t any different--you’re just like me.”

at that, you feel your heart shatter. you weren’t any different from nishimura riki? 

after everything, you’d never understand him, you guess. and he’d never understand you. 

“just fucking leave me alone.”

present day. 

the interviewer sits in front of you with a warm smile, your eyes fall on the giant vogue printed on the microphone. 

the majority of the questions are simple and surface-level, you run through them with practiced ease. it’s not until she reaches the end and pulls out the heavier ones that you falter. 

“did you always want to become a model?”

“no, actually.. to be frank, i never considered it before.”

“oh, really? what did you want to do?”

you cross your arms, then uncross them. your heel clacks against the polished floor. you swallow harshly, looking away from the bright lights. “actually, i… don’t know. i never really had the chance to think about it before i was scouted.”

the interviewer notices the change in your energy, which makes her laugh cautiously. 

“that’s fine! enough of the past, let’s move on to the present. and this’ll be the last question: do you feel like you’re satisfied with where you are now?”

her inquisitive eyes suddenly makes your mouth dry. you lick your lips. sensing your apprehensiveness, she tries her best to smooth over the heavy question. 

it backfires. 

“most say you’re in your prime—after all, you’ve reached the peak of your career and you’re married to your childhood sweetheart, nishimura riki ! you must be content, or do you still feel like there’s more to accomplish?”

you pledged yourself, in sickness and in health, to the man you once loved and lost. you hate that your “dream” came true. you simply smile, voice cracking only the slightest when you answer,

“couldn’t be happier than ever.”

a/n: hi guys!! i wanted to try something different from my usual works with side characters, humor, and an "ideal" relationship, etc. haha. i just felt like exploring the more darker, deeper, and more problematic concepts. i think with this reader and riki, there are a lot of unresolved issues on both sides. idk, i enjoyed the pressure of not having a happy ending or resolution. sorry for being mia but hope you enjoyed anyway <3

[joffyworld]

The Wall of Mutual Appreciation - Part I

@machetelettuce

You officially have the cutest Narinder boba eyes I've ever seen. They utterly confound me in the most captivating way. Perfect Nari Boba, 10/10! Not to even mention your lamb, that motherfucker is the cutest lil lamby ever made. So fluffy, so cuddly, so smiles. I need them in my life, thank you for making that possible.

@caffeinecramp

Sozo. Such an underrated and underutilized character is most au's but by God did you nail the design. He's so fluffy and neat, he looks so friendly and pure. But behind that fluffy exterior is the mad eyes of a scientist turned delusional zombie, and you portray it beautifully.

@halftoastedwaffle

Expressions! I'll admit I don't really know how to phrase this perfectly, but your expression work is flawless. Each face conveys such a beautiful range of emotions, even with characters that are super hard to use for facial expressions like Shamura. Such a powerful skill to have when telling a story through visual media, and you've got it down to an art form unto itself.

@thetireddoktor

Ugh Shamura. Shamura Shamura Shamura. Don't get me wrong Dok, your bishop designs are all absolutely stunning, I admire them constantly. But my God, you sure know how to draw that damn spider. I am deeply, deeply in love with that damn spider, and you've only made that feeling so much worse in the best way possible. You've got a real knack for drawing that evil bastard, I adore it.

@flowersgoldandgraphite

I love your Leshy to death and back. He's so smiley, so fluffy and so smug. Not to mention, he absolutely killed that dress you put him in. He looked beautiful, like he's always deserved to. The Leshy stan community thanks you dearly, your contributions will never be forgotten!

@z00lea

Undisputably the King of Cannibalism and Gore in the fandom. I don't know anyone that quite matches your crazy sense of detail when it comes to guts and violence, but somehow keeps it intimate and sensual at the same time.

@fanofthelambalt

I cannot overstate how much I adored when you went around with Vitas and interacted with so many other lambs. It was such a beautiful moment of community and made my heart so much warmer, I'll never forget those posts. So wholesome, so fun and so cute. It was perfect, and it reflects your kind and fun heart so well. Also your Helob drawing? Still the most beautiful piece of art I've seen of him, and it deserves the due credit. Such an under-drawn character, but man did you COOK with that. So so cool, so cool

@midia666

Horror! Few have mastered horror in all its subtleties quite the way you have. Your designs are dripping in horror and unease even before the gore and limbs begin to fly or dismantle, and it's such a treat to see. Not to mention, your Narinder and Shamura tear my fucking heart out. They're so tragic and pained, it's incredible really. You have a real knack for unnerving me in all the best ways, it's incredible to behold.

@wolsalwastaken

RATIL!!!!!!!!! RATILLLLLLLL!!!!!!! I fucking adore Ratil you don't understand, they're possibly my favourite main character OC and they're such an adorable lil fella. So so perfect in every way, I love the lil rat so much. Also when you put them in a dress I screamed, so bonus points for that! Your art style in general is just so fucking adorable and flexible to different tones, it's so good.

@yourtaquitos

Siliiness and seriousness, you always know the balance. You're so beautifully capable of shitposting one minute, then blowing my mind with a masterpiece the next. Your anatomy is delicious, your silliness is divine, and your art is deeply appreciated.

@lime202

Comfort. That's what I think of when I see your art. It's so perfectly comforting in every way. It's detailed, but simple, with beautiful intricacies threaded without being overwhelming. Your art reminds me of Spring and blooming flowers, it's so warming to the sight. Also your Leshy? So beautifully fluffy and cuddly, I will always love him.

@stitchesofsoulsart

There's so much love in every single post you make. It's so beautiful, the way you draw such wholesome loving fun and comfort the masses with your beautiful designs and creativity. You're equally capable of angst and drama, but goddamn the comforting fluff is what drags me in personally the most. That Nari design too? To die for. No other way to put it exists, it's peak Narinder alternate design. So fucking cool and pretty ugh.

@blueaceart

Okay this is super specific but the way you draw Shamura just intrigues me. The tired eyes and sunken sockets, like the weight of knowledge and the burdens of war have weighed upon them for eons. It's so beautifully harsh and real, and I never see anyone else take up the challenge of it in such a subtle way. So cool.

@shrimpsketchy

Pirates! I am utterly obsessed with your piracy au idea, it's so embedded in my brain and I genuinely screamed when I saw it. It's beautiful, such a unique concept I've not see anyone else attempt and WOW was the art that accompanied it just stunning on a whole other level. Genuinely art gallery tier art, I'm in awe at it every single time.

@jomo-is-here

Where the fuck to even start with you Jomo. Jomo, formerly known as Fwick, is the subject of my largest conspiracy yet. I am fucking CONVINCED that Jomo is the dev of the game that does the official artworks for special events and DLC, because holy SHIT is Jomo's art in a tier of its own. Jomo is the fucking Michael Jordan of Cult of the Lamb art, rivaled by very VERY few. The environments are splendid, the characters are adorable and it's all done in such a beautifully similar style to the official artwork of the game. You could easily tell me Jomo IS the person doing the official art, but if I'm being honest? Jomo is better (in my opinion). But don't get it twisted, you can tell the difference with a mere glance and Jomo's uniquely recognisable style is a unique and adorable edition that wouldn't go awry in a museum or an award show. This shit is top tier lemme tell you, I can't glaze it enough.

@scared-lantern

Lantern approaches art with a beautiful style and flair that few can match. Your lamb is one of the most adorable designs around and by God do you know how to maximise that cuteness in every way. Not to mention, your painted art style is just a real marvel for the eyes. I can't eat it enough, I'm always going up for seconds.

@jellyseafish

I absolutely adore the silly fun you upload with your art. Your lamb is so big eyed and fun to stare at as they get up to hijinks, even if the hijinks are just them staring back with big ol' peepers. Cutest patootest around, and boy do they love a good shenanigan. I adore them, I can't help it.

@shadbells

GOLD. Shad has a flair for the decorative and beautiful when it comes to art, and boy does it shine through in such a unique and beautiful way. The designs you make, especially for your lambs and Nari, has really quickly become some of my favourites Shad. The gold accents of the clothes and jewellery really highlight their beauty so well, and let me say personally they are BEAUTIFUL. Absolutely stunning designs with a delightfully devilish side when they want, I adore them in every way. 10/10, would marry and smooch, then get stabbed probably.

@ccarmody101

Your lamb design is beautiful as hell and your Nari and Goat bring me some seriously needed joy when I stumble on them again. You were actually one of the first COTL artists I stumbled on when I got Tumblr, and I'll always appreciate how you fed my addiction just as I took my first steps.

@shind91

Uniqueness. That's the first word that pops up when I think of Shin's art. The way you translate these furry fellas into humanised and more realistic designs is just bafflingly cool to me, it's such a brilliant translation that few people can so perfectly pull off. It's a genre of art I didn't know I needed, but by God do I love to see it now that I've seen your art more than ever before in my life. It's such a unique talent, and I cherish it every time I see it.

@spilycoris

Armour! I love the armour you've given your lamb, it's so beautiful while still being believable that they'd wear it. It's like a beautiful but functional jewellery, and really pulls the outfit together! Absolutely adorable, 10/10!

@angry-ursidae

Ursidae art, some of the most fulfilling silliness there is on Tumblr. Your Narilamb fuels my life, and your Shamura makes me die laughing. I don't know why, I just love that design it's so silly to me for some reason and I can't help but adore it. I love Ursidae art, this is known.

@frecktheheck

When I think of COTL character designs, Freck is one of the first names that pops into my mind. Between the anatomy, the charisma and character that blossoms in the characters designs and the historically-designed outfits, there's not a single thing you do badly, or even mediocre for that matter. Every single piece is a gift woven from the threads of love and passion, and the art style reflects your beautiful heart in a way that's so pure and comforting to all who see it. I cannot, and will never, have enough Freck art in my life. I can't stop devouring it and begging for more like a camel in the Sahara, and I wouldn't ever want that to change.

@haggz-is-here

If I had to give someone an award for "Person most likely to be a time travelling renaissance artist" it would be you Haggz. Your work, simply put, is INSANE in it's quality and baffling in its detail. I cannot, no matter how long I stare at it, understand how you do it. On a damn iPad no less. Da Vinci's legacy lives on in you, and by God do you do it proud. I can't praise it enough, it's just stunning every time. Stunning, there's no other word for it. Other than shocking, maybe?

@cultistic-ann-aka-sannaliel

Sanna is, quite frankly, a fucking genius at detail. There is nobody better for the minutae of an art piece than Sannaliel, and I will die on that hill. I have yet to be anything other than shocked and awe-inspired at a Sanna art piece, and I doubt that will ever change.

@hotchocolatedemon

A writer and a drawer, a rare double-talent! Not only that, but both are done to a wonderful degree! Never let it be said that hotchocolatedemon isn't a demon in the creative fields! I guess a deal with the devil would explain that 🤔

@tidalfoam

I fucking love your little gremlin ratsona. They're such a little thing, I adore them. I don't think there's a better meet the artist than your one if I'm being honest. It's perfect, sometimes less truly is more.

@loloelia

Lolo! The way your art has improved, even in the tiny amount of time I've sort of known you, has been tremendous, and it beautifully reflects your bubbly personality. Your positivity is a force for good in a negative world, and your art reflects that with every doodle and drawing! Don't ever change or doubt yourself, you're an amazingly joyful person to see around the place!

@cj-the-random-artist

This motherfucker manages to do two things at the same time. One: Draw the cutest lil fellas I've ever seen. They go to tea parties, they hug and slow dance, they go to TEA PARTIES. Two: educate the fuck out of me. I will always mention how CJ's QPR au was the first time I'd ever even heard of a QPR, l t alone been shown how it functions. It's so beautiful and passionately crafted, and reminds me how important representation is in art. There's nobody that does it better, and warms my heart in such uniquely beloved ways.

@twooftheluckyones

Gem and Cake!

To Gem: Your art heals a child in me I didn't know was wounded and in need of a bandage. It's so cute and pure, but so versatile in that too. Una is an utter delight, and Narinder is dripping with edge but without sacrificing the clear goopy interior that lies in his heart.

To Cake: You are, simply put, a writer in a tier purely of your own. The way you weave a tale with a myriad of writing tricks is just stunning to behold. If Gem is the heart, then you're the soul. There is nobody I take pride in learning from more than you, and you set a new standard with every piece you write. Never let it go said that Cake the Lucky can't write a bonafide masterstroke whenever he pleases, and in any genre he pleases. Smut? Action? Romance? Melancholy? Call this guy, he's the one to do it. Don't even get me started on how these two work together to make this shit sparkle, I'll be here all day.

@bogor-o

Have you ever seen an art piece so beautifully cuddly that you just wept because you can't actually hug the characters on your screen? Well, lemme tell you something. Bogor is the fucking expert of that. If you've ever wanted to see a character that looks like they could kill you with a stare and hug you back to life in the same breath, then go take a gander at Bogor's art, you will NOT be disappointed.

@greedykrab

Your skill in taking the abstract and turning it into the deeply developed is outstanding and profound. I will never quite "understand" your art style, and I think that's what draws me to it. It's like a beautiful puzzle you could stare at for days and never fully replicate, so uniquely yours in a world of already unique artists and styles. So so good.

@the-artist-grimm

The art? Spectacular, 10/10 on the cuteness and the violence when necessary. But the writing? Oh my God you crank that up to 11! Crimson Angel has torn my heart out every single step of the way and I'll never stop singing its praises. Your writing of parenting and the relationship between two firey but pained loves? Immaculate. Utterly perfect in every way.

@ro-bee

KIRAN. The beautiful baby boy I had the absolute honour of helping name. I will forever fawn over Pupigoat and your beautiful art style that brings them to life. Their pain is wholesome but brutal, and your skill at drawing it brings it to life so wholly and passionately. Not to even mention the rest of your art, it's all so unique and wonderful.

@losing-catharsis

A fellow poet amidst a sea of visual artists! The way you weave words into song without a rhyme scheme utterly fascinates me, and was a huge part of what inspired me to try free verse poetry in a few of my own works, to very little succes xD. Your a wonderful writer, never stop Cath <3

@zynical-forg

You draw, without any competition or contest, the CUTIEST PATOOTIEST Patooties ever. They're so small, so round and so lovable. Perfectly drawn blorbos every time, ready for some cute adventures together. Beautiful, 10/10 would fawn over again.

@yellowflowrs

Carillonneur. Need I say more? Okay but seriously now, you crafted the absolute BEST swap au I've ever seen in my life design-wise. The character traits? Hilarious and intriguing. The clothing? Beautifully horror themed. The actual character's designs and anatomy? Oh my God. Next level insane. The Carillonneur? The Rinder? So so good. I just devour them every time I see them. I've had to limit myself to my favourite of your au's or I'll be here till I die of old age, but I love them all so so so so sooooo much ugh. I can't wait to see what you get up to next, be it COTL or something else entirely!

@eliza-forget

You. You are the absolute most powerful MACHINE of creativity I have ever born witness to. I don't understand how you never seen to run out of ideas, motivation or passion, it's such a beautiful display of the human spirit at its finest. To top that off, the detail on every piece is just BAFFLING to point my eyeballs at. Every. Single. Post is just dripping with detail, whether that be clothing, design, anatomy, lighting, perspective or dialogue. It's insane how you produce artwork so fast, so efficiently and compromise nothing when it comes to vision, detail or passion. I genuinely feel inspired when I see your newest work almost every single day, I can only aspire to be like you and your bountiful spirit the same way someone aspires to a myth of the ancients and their acts of heroic bravery.

@loullipopx

Versatility. Lou does it all and goddamn do they do it well. Cuteness galore? Look no further than the Pokémon au and their designs. You'll cry they're so cute, and then you'll cry because you know you'll never see something as cute ever again in your life. Beautiful and sensual art? Go look at the pinups she did for the Lamb and Nari during the bunny suit trend. They have scarred my mind in such a beautiful way, I'll never forget it. Loulli makes that shit pop, and by God does it pop good as hell. Don't even get me started on the music she makes. Yeah that's right I'll say it publicly, this fucker makes music. Good music. GREAT music! The skillset goes above and beyond, and boy does it astound me every time I learn something new.

@lotus-duckies

Cannibalism? Check. Cuteness? Check. Religious themes? Check! The way you weave religion into your pieces is utterly fascinating to me, and I still remember our little theological talks super fondly. Every single piece is utterly soaked in symbolism, metaphor and a diabolical amount of love and passion, even when the love involved leads to a cannibalistic eating of a spouse or two. I cannot praise the detail put into these pieces enough, and the art style just emboldens those details tenfold. Never before have I seen an art style take me by the hand and plunge me into a sea of joy so quickly and vividly, and I'll always love it dearly.

@mudtrash

Two words. Anatomy. Ears. Your anatomy work on your lil sillies is utterly fantastic, especially your rare naked Nari. But the real prize in my eyes? The way you draw ears. I don't know why, but you give those motherfuckers the most beautiful flop I've ever seen. Nari? Big dorito ears. Lamb? Lil gloppy floppas. Goat? Middle ground flopperoos. They're all just so perfect. Your style is so cute and fun without sacrificing detail, it's to die for. For me though, the ears are the cherry on top of an already perfect cake. 10/10 dude, I wouldn't trade it for the world.

@streetchicken

Streetchicken cookin in the kitchen like it's KFC. Make no mistake, this motherfucker can COOK. Gay soldiers? Absolutely. Gay furry gods? Not a problem. Just a dude? Light work. Frog is an artiste behind the brush, but lemme tell you the real secret. Nobody, and I mean NOBODY, can draw a bear or a hunk quite like Streetchicken. Not a soul. This motherfucker can COOK when it comes to big huggable bears and rough-and-tumble fellas, and the competition never truly stood a chance. Whether it be Captain Price, Soap or Leshy, there are hunks abound. I thank you for your contributions to the bear community Frogo, never stop cooking 🫡

@faebunnyleap

Smiles! That's my immediate thought when I think of Fae. There's not a single piece of yours that doesn't have me smiling at the hilarity, the domestic bliss or the calming of it. Every single post is crafted with such a refined and calm hand, and 9 times out of 10 your characters are always so smiley and free. Your art style helps that so much too, it's so diverse. Your sketches are so silly and fun, but when you turn it up to 11 and get serious it's such a fantastic result. Also, I think about that fuckass pagliaci twins post so often it hurts. It's so good, top 3 shitposts ever. I love it, thank you so much.

@neon-virus

Size! I absolutely adore how you use your characters and their size differences, with such a crazy array of heights and builds. Goat is absolutely HUGE, a real unit, while Lamb is like the tiniest lil cutie patootie ever made. Nari acts as this weird middle ground where he's still super tall, but Goat's such a monster that he looks kinda normal? I love it so much. Also wow, your shading and rendering on your more detailed full pieces? Utterly splendid, I cannot ever be sated from my greed for more. So so beautiful.

@paintpaintpaintman

Trad art central over here. Your paintings are honestly stunning and it's so refreshing to see some trad art standing out amongst the digital age. Your designs are awesome too, and seeing them painted to life is so wholesomely warming. I get a shot of giddiness in my veins whenever you post, and I don't see that feeling ever fading in the slightest!

@cconfusedkat

The cuddliest designs in the whole world, so full of joy and whimsy. Every design bursts with a huggable energy that just sucks you in. It's beautiful, I adore it. There's not a single character that I wouldn't snuggle, pat on the head and feed a cookie for being such a delightful lil fella, I love them. I can only hope that they would love me.

@teruuu-main

Teru, Teru, Teru. Your brilliance knows no bounds. Every au just drips with personality and beauty, each so unique in the ways they shine. Old Faith Academy? Beautifully tropey, so comforting and warm. Compulsion of Flesh? Ohhh BOY lemme tell you about Compulsion of Flesh. Never have I seen someone write two characters that are so fucking VILE that I cannot help but love them. They're insane, they literally eat each other, and I eat it up like a starved hyena. I can't help it, they've devoured my brain since day one, and the saying is true, "Absence makes the heart grow fonder." This au will always be one of my favourites, and one of the first fan projects I ever got obsessed with. Words don't quite match my love for it, so just take some sounds. SNOOB. GLOOB. GLEEB. HAPAP! And so on.

@kikorikoiko

Your improvement in the time I've known you has been absolutely immense, and I adore the way you draw Astaroth and Kallamar. You've brought the Astaroth character to life in a way few have, and it's beautiful every time. Devs hire Kiko please, we need tragic polygamous gays to be canon (as if they aren't already).

@junoberrii

Cuteness. Pure and simple cuteness. There is not a single un-cute bone in Juno's wrist I swear to God. Every single post is just the cutest shit imaginable. So cute, in fact, that I constantly forget that the lamb is canonically a mass murderer, and that Nari is an asshole. If you want fluff, and you want it FLUFFY, go to Juno and just stare at the art on display. It heals your soul man, it really does.

@spiderin-space

Talk about versatility! Spider writes, and writes a damn fine story too! Not only that, but such a passionate and dedicatedly written story, with such a beautifully paced yet long winding story that leaves you always waiting for an update. The art though? Oh man the art. Cuddly, cute and joyful but with a perfectly conveyed sense of fear whenever Spider needs to put the brakes on the fun zone. Spider knows their shit, and does it perfectly to a T. Don't sleep on spider, that spider knows how to write a story that bites in the night, or soothes in the daytime. Take your pick, you won't be disappointed.

[wrr000]

"Small gestures"

The Destined One x reader - headcanons about communication +really short oneshot at the end

Notes: it's basically @szynkaaa idea!!!!!!!!!!!! go and check their blog NOW!!!!!!!!!!! i'm currently working on another headcanons with the destined one and more serious oneshot, hope y'all will enjoy this

Warnings: fluff, kinda fanon the destined one? english is not my first language so i will prob make some changes later! i also exaggerated the situation in oneshot for the fluff, forgive me

travelling with silent destined one was difficult, but soon you realized that sometimes gestures can express more than words

at first it was hard to communicate, this barrier seemed insurmountable to you

but you quickly noticed that he wasn't trying to push you away or left you behind because of it, no - he tired to show you with small gestures that he actually cared

it started with slowing down a little so you could catch up or glancing at you to make sure you were still walking next to him

gently poking you with his hand or tugging your clothes to get your attention

stretching his arm to prevent you from walking further and signaling you to hide behind him. he always made the same gesture then

finding you a safe spot to hide when he knew a tough fight was coming

when an enemy apeared unexpectedly and you were in the middle of the fight, he bought you some time to escape somewhere safe

grabbing you by forearm to make sure you didn't get hurt (you have to tell him several times that you're fine, boy is worried)

all these little things made you understand him more and at some point you learned how to read his body language, gestures and face expressions; scratching his ear when impatient or confused, characteristically touching his nose when he's thinking and all those kind of things

you just knew what he wanted to say (but couldn't)

during this time, you didn't even notice how much you were getting closer and how much you cared for each other

he never made you feel like a burden and you always tried to help him as much as you can

you could talk to him about anything and he would listen to you carefully, making sure you feel comfortable

the destined one never would have thought that he would meet someone like you(and fall in love) during his journey

of course it isn't a flawless relationship because it's still a cheeky monkey that cannot stand 5 seconds without getting into a fight, but it's a story for another time

---

Leaving that cursed land of rats was something you had been waiting for a long time. Almost from the moment you arrived there. Sandstorms were hard to survive, let alone the mad rat king and his two sons. However, you quickly missed the sandy landscapes, because the next stop was a land covered with ice.

Journey to the next Relic wasn't easy. The snow was falling heavily, limiting your vision. The horizon disappeared, you could only see The Destined One figure forcing his way through the high layer of snow. You felt that your shoes were already soaked along with the lower part of your clothes.

Even though you were following the path beaten by your companion, you were moving slowly. You sighed heavily at the thought that you probably still had a long way to go and you could only dream about a break. How nice it would be to sit by the fire and warm yourself. Suddenly various memories started coming back to haunt you here, in the middle of nowhere.

You were pulled out from your thoughts by the familiar warmth. You looked to your left and met his shining eyes, staring into your red face. The Destined One was standing next to you, wrapping his arm around you. A slight smile appeared on his face.

"Sorry", you said quietly. "I'm slowing us down"

But he just shook his head as if he wanted to say that you were talking nonsense. With a firm move, he pulled you closer to him. Your bodies touched even more, you felt a pleasant warmth radiating from him. His hot breath spread across your frozen place. Even know you could feel his unique, but nice scent.

He noticed your tiredness and how chilly you were. You had been shivering from the cold for a while now. He wished he had something to cover you with, but all he could offer was his arm. You appreciated his concern and looking out for you. That alone made you not feel so poorly anymore.

"Thank you, much better now", you said with a smile. "We can go"

He nodded, clealry pleased with the answer. You to were walking together now, hugging each other. The road didn't seem so hard anymore and the snow slowly stopped failing. The horizon became clearer, revealing hugh mountains and old temples. You finally felt like you had made progress. Previous difficulties became only unpleasant memories.

The closer you got, the more the weather was getting better. It was still snowing, but it wasn't even that cold anymore. And yet you still walked together, hugged to each other, neither of you thinking about pulling away. While admiring the views, you told him some old story from your childhood about a hard winter in your village. When you weren't looking, he was admiring you in silence, enjoying the moment.

[shalomniscient]

greetings gamers. my return to this webbed site approaches so i just wanted to say thanks for sticking around !! *throws arle fluff smut at y'all*

cw. [NSFT UTC] gross amounts of fluff, praise, creampie, kinda lazy morning sex yk notes. this is kind of selfship adjacent but can be read as a normal readerfic as well taglist. my comrade in arms of arle fluff nation @e-hibiscus 🫡🫡🫡

“dearest.”

arlecchino’s voice is barely above a whisper as she tries—and fails—to sit up on the bed. the cause? your arms wound tightly around her waist, and your face nuzzled into the crook of her neck.

“hm?” you respond with a lazy hum, snuggling even closer to her, if possible. your body is soft against her firmer one, and her hands rest placidly on your waist. she could simply move you, it wouldn’t be difficult at all for her, but she doesn’t. she can’t seem to be able to find the heart.

“i have work to attend to,” she reasons with you. “you know this.”

you breathe out a giggle against her neck. “okay. go, then.”

not surreptitiously at all, your arms get ever so slightly tighter around her, and she sighs. “beloved…”

“what?” you ask innocently, a self-satisfied, cheeky grin on your face. it’s such a lighthearted expression on you that she feels her conviction tremble in its presence. she has long mastered anger and sorrow, but the love you coax out of her still seems to be as wild and free as the day it was born.

“i cannot leave if you do not let me go,” she says, and you shrug, eyes twinkling with mirth. you lean in close, close enough that she can feel your warm breath spill across her own lips.

“then don’t,” you offer simply, and she rolls her eyes, but the slightest hint of a smile twitches at the corners of her mouth.

“you and i both know reality is far more complex than that,” she argues gently. the sunlight streaming through the windows only grows stronger by the minute, illuminating your lovely face in shades of gold. “my schedule does not allow for such leisure.”

your smile turns a twinge enigmatic, almost mischievous, and arlecchino’s eyes narrow. “doesn’t it?”

“little minx," she growls, but there's no bite to her tone. "what have you done?"

“managing your schedule is part of my duties, you know. and as your excellent adjutant, i made a few executive decisions on your behalf regarding your work-life balance.”

“‘a few executive decisions’,” she echoes, raising a brow. “i’m quite certain that is above the pay grade of mere adjutants, my dear.”

you roll your eyes at that, a teasing pout forming on your lips. “would you much prefer i make them as your wife, then?”

“immensely,” she agrees, and you laugh again, and arlecchino feels a swirl of butterflies come to life in her belly. how strange, that such feelings can be inspired in the soul of someone like her.

how beautiful, too.

“so will you stay?” you ask eventually, your tone hopeful, and she cannot find it anywhere in herself to deny you. not that she would want to, anyhow.

“it seems that i will,” she concedes. a free day is rare for her, and a free day to spend all with you even more so. she will not squander such an opportunity. “i am all yours, today.”

you beam at her then, and oh, not even the sun rays filtering in through the windows could even hope to compare to the brightness of your smile. you reduce her to a moon caught in your orbit, able to do nothing but reflect your radiance with a small smile of her own, one that only you could ever see.

your lips fit perfectly against her own when you kiss her, slow and sweet, as if she were something to savor. it sends thrills running up and down her spine, her cold blood starting to run hot. you must have noticed her reaction, because when you draw back, there��s a hungry glint in your eye that arlecchino is all too familiar with.

“i missed this,” you confess against her skin as your lips trail kisses down her neck. “missed having you.”

“we are hardly celibate even during work, my dear,” she chuckles, delighting in the way your teeth sink into your lower lip as you recall all the times the both of you had lost yourselves in each other at various places that normal people would certainly never dream of.

"that's different," you say, almost petulantly, and arlecchino runs a hand through your hair as you continue to reverently kiss your way down her body. and in a sense, she understands. desperate fucking between meetings in hidden hallways against cold walls or hard desks can certainly be enjoyable, but there is admittedly something special about this slower pace. perhaps, she muses to herself, as she lets the sensation of your lips over her skin wash over her, this is the love-making authors and poets write about.

her fingers wind tight in your hair and you squeak as she tugs you back to her lips so she can kiss you again, hungry and wanting. she has you properly straddle her hips, the fabric of her nightshirt ridden up to reveal the smooth muscle of her stomach. your hands trace the contours of her abs as you plunder her mouth, your tongue teasing the pointed tips of her canines and making her growl into your mouth.

"eager little thing," she murmurs when you draw back for breath, eyes half-lidded and dangerous in a way that makes your blood sing. her hands fall down to your hips, squeezing ever so slightly, and she delights in the way you're so soft under her touch. you take the opportunity to tug your own nightdress over your head and toss it over your shoulder, allowing her a stunning view of your bare upper body. and from where you're sat, low enough on her body, you can feel the twitch of her hard cock against your ass, still restrained by her sleep shorts.

you grin at her words, a hand reaching behind you to palm her through the fabric. the muscles in her jaw jump and flex as she grits her teeth. "pot, kettle, don't you think?"

"get on with it," she huffs, nails digging into your flesh ever so slightly as you tug her shorts down and free her aching cock, already dripping pre-cum. you look down lovingly at her as your fingers daintily wrap around her, exerting a delicate pressure as you pump your hand up and down. her eyes nearly flutter shut as she leans back into the pillows, the crosses of her pupils growing as she looks up at you.

as you continue to stroke her, she takes the liberty of rubbing her thumb over your stiff clit through your underwear. you jolt and squeak against her, surprised, though she keeps you firmly in place with her other hand. in doesn't take long for you to start rocking your hips, grinding against her hard abs and her thumb. your breathing deepens as pleasure ebbs through you like a tide, drawn and released by the gravity of your husband, your moon.

once she feels your slick drip through the now ruined fabric of your underwear and onto her skin, she stills your hips, and coaxes you to rise a little. you obey, and her dark hands push the fabric of your panties to the side while yours aligns her to your eager cunt. you gasp when the tip pushes in, the feeling of her stretching you out pleasurable in a way unlike anything else. you brace your hands on her chest and she coos at you as you take more and more of her.

"just like that, sweetheart," she murmurs, watching as more of her cock disappears into your tight heat, "so good for me, aren't you, sweet thing?"

you practically collapse onto her when she bottoms out, your hips now flush. your cunt clenches and squeezes and arlecchino has to resist the urge to fuck into you. she needs to let you adjust first. so she wraps her arms around you as you shiver on top of her, your face buried in her neck. her warm hands run up and down your spine, gentle, comforting, until your breathing evens out.

"ready?" she asks against your temple, and you whisper out your assent against her skin. arlecchino hums at that, shifting her legs to plant her feet flat on the bed. she offers you a soft, affectionate, "good girl" before she's pounding up into you, her strokes slow but deep, tip pushing up against that sweet spot inside you every time.

you can't do anything but tremble and moan. your whines and whimpers of fuck, so good, baby, so fucking good and right there, right there makes her go near delirious, rational thought slipping from her with each second. it doesn't take long for you to start clenching tighter around her, and she knows you're close. and you tell her as much, between breathy moans.

"'m close, baby, so close," you stutter out, pushing yourself up on trembling arms. your expression is pinched into one of pure pleasure, your lower lip caught between your teeth and your eyes screwed shut. "oh, fuck--i love you, just like that, fuck, i love you so much--"

arlecchino groans as you babble your professions of love, her blood warming in her veins. not scorching like a raging flame, but still just as bright--like a hearth. "i know, sweetheart, i know," she mutters, driving into you harder with each thrust. "cum with me, sweet girl. can you do that for me?"

you nod eagerly, rocking your hips to chase the feeling of her cock dragging along your sensitive walls. arlecchino pulls you down by the neck with one hand to crash your lips together, while the other toys with your stiff clit through your thoroughly ruined panties. you whine and whimper into her mouth, and she swallows each noise eagerly, greedily.

"i love you," she breathes out, a hand on your cheek, thumb stroking the ridge of your cheekbone gently even as she pounds into you. "my sweet girl, my wife, my sun."

she kisses you again and then seats you firmly on her cock, her tip mashing against that spot inside you and pushing you over that edge. you practically wail into the kiss as your body tenses and trembles with each dizzying wave of pleasure. the force of your cunt bearing down on her pulls arlecchino along with you, and she groans as she cums, spilling ropes of cum into your squeezing cunt. her arms around you hold you close as you drift through both your highs until you come back down, panting against her chest.

she takes your hand, limp as it is, and brings it to her lips to kiss your knuckles. "take your time and rest, dearest," she hums, tilting your chin up to look her in the eyes. her gaze is soft, affectionate, but there's a hint of danger in them that makes your throat go dry in a good way.

"after all, thanks to you we have all the time in the world today, don't we?"

[dont-look-its-embarrassing]

To be Understood

Second part to "To be Seen"

Hey! I honestly didn't think people would like the last drabble as much as they did and I didn't have a pt.2 planned, but I decided to try and see where it goes.

Also, I am new to actually posting something and having feedback or having people want to be tagged, so I didn't do something right in the tagging process pls let me know :)

I am going to make this a little series bc I cannot fit the entirety of the story in one and actually make it comprehensive and not 10,000+ words in one one-shot. :)))

Plus, I think I could make this just the right amount of heart wrenching and fluffy >:)

Summary: Following up on his promise to keep a more watchful position in your newly transitioned life, Azriel attempts to get to know you and spend time in your presence. After the panic attack in the town of Velaris, more seeing eyes has been turned towards you from your friends. They are trying to make sure you are accounted for more than before, but time and pressure has some things slipping. Multiple awkward encounters and attempts to see eye to eye to the spymaster (in particular) leads to an intimate confession between the two of you.

Warnings: Slight mentions of PTSD recovery, anxiety, self-doubt, slight!jealous Azriel, Cassian is testing the waters with his brother again

Words: 2,668

previous part

The sun was the first thing your eyes adjusted to upon waking up. The slight breeze from the open window brought in the fresh smell of the dew and had your body relaxing further into the comfy sheets as the temperature in the room reflected that of outside. The eccentricity of your room bringing comfort and serenity and the little nicknacks you have collected since being here allowed a cozy feeling to emulate throughout it.

Feyre even mentioned how jealous she was of how comfortable and warm your room is, and mentioned she couldn’t get hers to be similar even when she tried.

The memory had you smiling.

Stretching underneath the comfortable weighted comforter, you pull back the edge, allowing your body to be exposed to the colder air. Grabbing the longer silk robe that hung beside you, you made your way out of your comfort zone to the hallway towards the kitchen. Ever since your moment within the town, Feyre, Cassian, Mor, everyone had made sure that you were taken care of and heard. It took some time to get used to, admittedly, all the extra attention. At first you had slightly resented it as you could only imagine it as an act of pity and after you had an episode, you also understood that the type of thinking is how the eldest Archereon is as cold as she is. Plus, the time you spend with them has created strong bonds and happy memories for you.

It also had you picking up new hobbies that you never had time for before.

Turns out you can cook.

And bake.

Really well actually.

So well that often times when you bake a new treat or snack, upon knowing of its presence, the residents of the house would have it gone within the hour. It made you feel good, to be able to repay in some way the aid they have given you.

The mystery that is your abilities have yet to be explored since the outburst, but you also didn’t mind as your head was finally wrapping around the circumstances you have been put through. Although, the High Lord or Rhys, had expressed interest in potentially figuring it out soon to see if it could help them and the court. You were all over it, and the aspect of integrating into this family further made you excited.

Arriving in the kitchen, you begin gathering ingredients to make breakfast. The house, although it can provide anything you wish for food, seemed to pick up on your therapeutic hobby and promoted it. Even gathering ingredients and appearing them before you on the counterspace. You always chalked it up to the house wanting a break from constantly taking care of people, but deep down you knew it seemed to have a little soft spot for you. Whipping together the batter, throwing it in the divine oven and cooking the meats to perfection, the breakfast is ready in about an hour.

The sun had settled into the sky, far from shining over the horizon which had its’ light wake you.

It was still early though.

Looking at the spread before you, you had asked the house to keep it warm and ready for everyone as they began to roll out of bed and chase the heavenly scent of pancakes, bacon and omelet.

It was Azriel’s favorite.

The skin of your cheeks flared at the thought and shook your head at how absurd you are. Cooking and baking for everyone allowed you to take notice of things that they had favored over the rest, often being expressed vocally. However, some, like the spymaster, just through body language and action would key you into likes and dislikes. Feyre loved eggs benedict, in almost nauseatingly cuteness, so did her mate. When you would make it, almost as a sixth sense, those two would always be the first to arrive and express how happy the dish made them before gathering a large plate. Cassian was a sandwich guy, anything quick and simple, but he swears you enchant the sausage and bacon you add to be sweet and salty at the same time. On those days you often must make a bounty of those little sandwiches for him to take with him for the day. Mor liked simple muffins and like Cass, would wrap one up to go while giving you a hug on her way out. Nesta and Elaine hadn’t showed up for breakfast but the youngest seemed to prefer oatmeal, which ironically was also her favorite while human.

Azriel was the hardest to read. With every dish you made, breakfast/lunch/dinner, he would appreciate and eat like a man starved (an exaggeration but you always found your eyes on him anyway). You had switched up the recipes and altered the assortment of foods, but every time he would tell you how much he liked it and clear the plate.

It wasn’t until you truly watched him did you found out just how much he loved the simple things in life.

It was a day like any other, you had cooked breakfast and set up the table for a nice meal as you had known everyone would be able to sit and eat together. It was uncommon so you made a tried-and-true love by everyone.

Bacon, eggs and pancakes with homemade lavender syrup that you asked Elaine to harvest for you in her garden.

As everyone sat, you couldn’t help but let your eyes stare as the spymaster sat down fresh out of bed and allowed a little small smile to grace his features looking at the plate he had. It was all you needed to know, and each time you would serve something new, you would watch for the little ticks that he would allow to shine through.

A smile.

A little sigh and relief of tension from his shoulders.

A gentle extra “Thank you” which he would all but whisper across the table to you.

All of it had your heart thumping and blood rushing to your face, allowing that little butterfly to turn into hundreds.

After his comment after taking you home, he had made his presence around you more common and you loved it. Every time the two of you were together time became irrelevant, the serene sense that would settle over your body was addictive. You had only prayed that he got the same sense of belonging.

He was such a pretty male.

So gentle and observant.

It was so hard to not have your feelings bleed into your everyday life and movements. It wasn’t long after the incident with him that your thoughts were all but consumed by him.

Not that you were complaining.

“It smells divine in here.” The soft sound of Mor broke you out of your rather long thoughts of Az, as an easy smile fell over your face.

“I wanted to make something simple today.” You shrug, but meeting the second hand’s eyes, you stumbled slightly.

“How are you settling in Y/n?” Her tone was inquisitive, but the smile that bloomed her face left you choking.

“Well.” You coughed, “I’m settling in well.”

“Anyone in particular helping you out?” You narrowed your eyes to her.

“Everyone has been amazing.”

“Oh, come on Y/n!” She shuffled towards you as mischief glinted in her eyes. “You can tell me; we all see it.”

Your heart stopped.

“All?” Her light laughter halted.

“No not all, some though.” Your breathing resumed. “I highly doubt if you wrote a sign with all these love meals, he still wouldn’t see it.” It was chastising, lovingly, but still with a little edge to it.

“He is just being friendly Mor.” You argue with a sigh. It was the one thought you couldn’t get out of your head. Viewing his relationship with everyone and his attentiveness towards Elaine. You couldn’t help but just feel as if he enjoyed your presence, but as a friend.

Mor sighed and looked towards the still steaming pile of pancakes and syrup.

“I know it can be difficult to believe, but he’s more relaxed around you. If any two people deserve to be happy or even have a shot, it’s you two.” The sounds of footsteps down the hall had her breaking away from you but not without a nod sent towards her. You would be open to him and the idea, more than just the little crush you have accumulated.

The in-question footsteps that had the conversation halting belonged to Feyre, Rhys and the male in question. Most likely fresh from training as small beads of sweat pooled on their skin and hair showed dampness.

You watched the spymaster’s eyes alight, taking in the assortment of his favorites on the counter. He quickly grabbed a plate, effortlessly and unbeknownst to his high lord and lady, cutting in front of them to scoop his desired piles.

“Y/n, you are the most amazing person I have ever met.” Feyre exclaimed as her body seemed to quiver with the simple task of standing, but her obviously salivating mouth had her also reaching for cutlery and plates to pile stuff onto. Rhys laughed in response to her antics and followed suit, thanking you in the process as both followed the now seated Azriel to the table. It was sweet, his honor to wait for you to be seated and with food to begin eating. You could tell some days it really tried his control; however, those days you knew without a shadow of a doubt that he truly loved the food that had been prepared. Glancing back towards the table, you met eyes briefly with Azriel.

The warmth that showed in them had you ignite with hope and adoration towards the male, almost uncontrollably so. It had you smiling and fiddling at the ends of your hair.

The following sounds of heavier steps broke your attention.

“Can I just say, I am in love with you.” Cassian entered the kitchen with heat and brought you into a quick embrace. The smell of sweat and sand had you scrunching your nose but the laugh that exited you had him add a little spin before setting you down.

The soft sound of a chair being moved echoed as you didn’t realize the table had become quiet, watching.

Mor had a shit eating grin, but not at you, but at the now walking over Spymaster. The same spymaster picked up your loaded plate (you were waiting for everyone to be served before doing so yourself) and brought it back to the table, setting it down in the open seat across from himself. You tilted your head but caught the small look between the mates at the table, notably having a non-verbal conversation. Looking back at the general, he too had a smile, but one only aimed at you and the food in front of you.

“I’ll be over once I pile the rest of the bacon on.” Another laugh emitted from you as you walked over to your place, noting the food had been set down gently and not disturbed when Azriel had placed it.

You looked up and met his hazel eyes, there was a slight edge to it, but not at you. In fact, when you met his eyes, you could’ve sworn they melted from that ice back to the warmth that was once there before.

The settling of plates had you glance over at Cassian. He was only a seat away from, you but on the other side of the table.

Easy conversation settled over the table as everyone began to eat. Taking bites of your eggs and bacon, a small moan of appreciation rattled through you. You caught movement in your peripheral where Azriel sat, but didn’t bother to check or see what it was assuming it was just him enjoying his meal.  Even you had to admit this was good. Similar sounds followed suit as everyone dug in and the sounds of scraping of plates that filled the room.

“Are you busy today?” Cassian piped up after shoveling a rather large mouthful of egg. You shook your head; you didn’t think you had anything planned but were going to ask if Azriel had a couple hours to spare for some time alone with him to talk. You opened your mouth to speak, but before you could Az had cleared his throat and spoke up.

“We have plans.” The room turned towards the male as he stared at his brother, the ice returning to his gaze. You wracked your brain trying to make sure you didn’t forget plans that you had made prior but came up empty. That grin from Mor returned as she made eye contact with you.

Suddenly the leftover soggy pancakes on your plate looked really interesting.

“Oh?” The brother threw back. Looking over to Cassian again, you nodded along feigning innocence.

“I’m sorry, I must’ve forgotten for a moment.” Although you knew your best friend and possibly Mor clocked it quick, you allowed the easy smile to lay it on thick with the general. He returned it and nodded along, taking the lie for a simple slip of the mind.

“No problem, but when you’re free I want to show you around the training grounds. I think it could be good for you.” Your chest filled with pride again, even some that you didn’t think could be your own, but none the less made you feel all nice. As everyone cleaned up and filed out, you caught eyes with Azriel.

His shoulders were tense.

Nervous even.

The depth of his shadows swirled around him as he took particularly long to wash up his plate.

Watching the last of your friends exit the kitchen and the food clean itself up and put away, you made light steps over to the shadowsinger.

“So, what’s on the agenda today?” You ask. The feign confidence of your words had Az glancing over with a small smile. Releasing a little sigh, he removed his eyes from his now empty hands which wrapped around the front of the sink. He had leaned into it, seemingly matching your confident air.

“Anything you want, sunshine.” Your cheeks flushed as you looked away. Today was a record for heat that entered your face. You tried your best not to allow the nerves in your stomach to ruin the encounter.

You would be fine.

It’s just two friends hanging out.

All normal here.

But the ideas that Mor had fed into your brain ran rampant.

“There is a bakery and some shops I want to explore. Can we go today?” You originally had plans to go with Feyre. In fact, she had made you swear you wouldn’t go without her because she heard the pastries were divine.

She would forgive you once she knew who you went with instead.

“Of course, I’ve been meaning to make a couple stops as well. We can go together.” You couldn’t help the small seed of selfishness from talking as you held eye contact with the male.

“Can you fly us down? I’m still not used to winnowing.” It was the most believable lie you have ever let slip past your lips, but you didn’t feel sorry about it. Would you ever admit it was because you wanted to be pressed against him with adrenaline rushing through you? Or that you wanted to feel his strong arms hold you without a single ounce of sweat or issue? Perhaps that you wanted to smell his scent of frost and night and hope to any god that would listen that it would cling to the sweater you would wear. Not if your life depended on it and there was a sword slitting your throat.

However, something in the way Azriel’s eyes darkened slightly and his smile turned into a smirk had you second guessing how thoroughly your ulterior motives had been hidden.

“Anything for you Sunshine, wouldn’t dream of making you ill.”

He clocked it.

Tags:

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered @willowpains @adventure-awaits13 @

[a-simple-imagine]

Instructions Unclear

Synopsis: Surprising Van one day after work leads to revelations neither of you were expecting…

Pairing: Adult!Van Palmer x reader

Words: 2.7k+

A/N - will nobody being interested in van palmer stop me from writing about them?? no, she’s literally the love of my life. if you’re the anon that requested the taissa fic it’s next on my list

WARNINGS - swearing and minor sexual references

The cool night air clings to all too-warm skin. How were you already sweating? A deep sense of anxiety sits low in your stomach, but the space is shared by a degree of giddiness. You were merely excited so why did your body seemingly react like you were heading into battle? You almost talked yourself out of coming as you walked down the streets. You still might. An all-too-tight grip on the plastic bags in hand. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe this would merely ruin everything. You have to keep telling yourself that it's fine. Don't make this any bigger than It needs to be. The pit in your stomach is only made worse when the redhead yanks open the door. The grey sweatpants and plain white t-shirt combo induce a sharp intake of breath. She was winding down for the night. A visible display of confusion. This really was a bad idea. Too late now.

"...Hey," hummed slowly; the wrinkle in her brow deepened as her eyes drifted over you. Your weight shifts from one foot to the other. "I wasn't expecting you tonight."

"Yeah... sorry," was all you could think to say. That sense of regret now swallows any giddiness you were feeling as you consider how disorienting this must be. "Thought I'd surprise you."

And her expression doesn't change. Clearly surprising her was a misjudgement on your part. Nobody likes unexpected company. Now you were just an inconvenience. Something to ruin her otherwise peaceful night. "Uh, right," for a moment you think she may send you away. Some excuse about how busy she is or whatever but she does not. Instead, she opens the door wider and steps aside, ushering you inside. "It's cool."

Even as you step over the threshold you cannot help but wonder if your company is unwanted. You would prefer her to turn you away at the door than humour you. That was more her style when it came to this kind of thing. Van Palmer was strictly interested in a casual relationship. A transactional relationship. She had made that very clear on her dating profile. Very clear the first time you came over. And very clear every time since. You have never really done this before. Just hung out. You would chat sometimes before sleeping together. A little texting back and forth. "I brought food," you explain. The click of the lock, a signal to walk further into her space. It wasn't your first time here and yet you still feel like a stranger. Like you were intruding on some big night. There was nobody here but the television flickers with black and white images. Van trails behind you. Blocking you from a quick escape. You're sure she wouldn't mind if you made up some lie to leave; she would probably welcome it but now you felt trapped. "Have you eaten?"

"Not yet," a blur that almost collides with your shoulder as she zooms past. A beeline for the kitchen space where she begins tidying. Moving stray glasses and plates into the sink. It really wasn't a bother; you didn't care how it looked but it doesn't seem like your place to make her stop. "What'd you bring?" you place the white plastic bag on the table and begin unpacking. It was not anything fancy. You had merely stopped at a takeaway on your way over. It was late enough for her to have finished work but not that long ago. You figured if you caught her quickly then she would not have had dinner yet. Turns out you had been correct. "You want a beer? It's kinda all I got." Van does not wait for a response, already passing the bottle across the table. Exchanging a small cardboard box and some chopsticks for a glass bottle that you place to one side.

"I also got you something," You add. "Else- I mean, something else."

"Oh," Curiosity peaked as her actions slowed, settling into the chair opposite as she opened up her food.

"Not sure how into it you'll be but," A shrug. Even now after being welcomed into her home you feel embarrassed. This was too much. A gift was too much. Making this into something it's not but now that you have mentioned it, you cannot take it back. She is watching you with expectations. It was pretty much the only other thing you brought. On the table you place the gift; a lego set.

For a moment she seems genuinely perplexed. "this is what you think I'm into?" A strange gift for a person in their late forties but from what you have learned about Van this seemed like something she would enjoy. She owned a video rental store which was steeped in nostalgia. VHS tapes, cassettes and old toys and comics. She had some newer stuff too but the main draw was the old-school vibes. So a Lego set seemed right up her street and it was a set for adults that when pieced together would create a retro portable radio. Still, panic settles over your nerves. Maybe she thinks this an insult? Some would call it childish. But a smile tugs at her lips as she chuckles. "I'm just fucking with you," Van leans over the table to grab the box; the pieces all clattering around inside as she drops it against the table. "You got this for me?"

A shrug. An awkward little smile returned. "Yeah"

"Sit," Van instructs as she lovingly shovels chopsticks full of noodles into her mouth. You descend into the seat opposite, digging into your own food. You figured it would be more awkward just getting food for her. "This is really cool. Do you wanna start it now?" a pause. You weren't expecting the offer but now you have a split second to decide before it becomes awkward.

"uh... sure, yeah," You nod a little too eagerly. Half a smile settling on your lips. She drops the chopsticks into the noodle box and sets on opening that lego. In a similar fashion to a kid on Christmas, there is no grace to her movements. They rip it open and dump the contents onto the middle of the table. Thank god everything came in little plastic bags.

"Shit- this is a lot," They express, looking into the cardboard box and fishing out the instructions. "how many pieces is this?" She searches the outside of the box for answers. Was this too much? You had tried to go for something not too small but not obnoxiously large either. A careful balance of buying Lego sets for middle-aged women.

"Sorry, I just went for something I thought you'd think was cool,"

"no no, I'm not complaining. Just gonna take a minute to finish is all," Van smiles to herself. "Guess we just do a bag each and come together. That good for you?" A brief glance, you nod obediently. "There's only one set of instructions though."

"I can probably find some online," Getting your phone you set to work on finding that while she flips through the paper copy. Half her attention has returned to her dinner; lazily filling her mouth with long strings of pasta and seasoned vegetables. It does not take very long for you to google the set and find a PDF copy on the official website. "Okay, I'm set." The redhead ushers one of the small bags of bricks towards you. Guess you were starting with the first bag. Van with the second.

"So how was your day?" you ask, ripping open the bag and beginning to clip them together based on the images on your phone screen. Small talk had never been your strong suit. It never seemed to bother Van much. You weren't exactly there for stimulating conversation. Plus the other woman was as awkward as they came. You made it work. It worked very well if records show.

"Pretty chill," She replies. "got to introduce a girl to the joys of classic gangster movies."

Ah, films. An interest of Van's everyone who ever interacted with her knew about. "oh I bet she just loved that," You tease; a playful smirk tugging at the corner of your lips.

"Hey- they're classics for a reason," She urges. "She'll get it once she watches a few." You don't doubt her. "How was your day?"

"Long," truly was the only way to describe it. You wish it had been as simple as recommending movies to teenagers. "Hence the surprise."

"Ah so that's why you're actually here," Van chuckles, a teasing little smirk suggesting there's more to be said. "You didn't have to do all this to get me into bed. A simple 'you up?' text would have sufficed."

"That's not..." Your voice trails off; internally wincing at the notion this was all just a way to get her into bed. That was a logical conclusion that you can't really argue with. Came with the casual territory. You fall into silence after that. Both conventrationing on your own individual parts. Clipping colourful plastic together between mouthfuls of dinner or swigs of beer. The soft mumble of the film van never bothered to turn off. It sets a nice atmosphere. However, it does not take long before your attention falls from assisting her in the construction of this radio, to merely admiring her do the work alone.

"You're staring," Busted. Not so much as a spared glance but it is enough for your eyes to blink away like a naughty child caught cheating. The clicking of bricks as you calm the butterflies in your stomach. But it's not enough. And when you are sure she is not paying attention to you anymore, your eyes flicker back to watching her. Van Palmer was beautiful. Handsome. And you would never get tired of looking at her. The level of concentration was akin to a very important task rather than such a silly task. Firey locks of red curtain either side of her face. The scar above her left eyebrow is more prominent in her frown. That sparkle of childlike wonder in such captivating eyes as she plays with her toys. Every so often her expression would change; a purse of the lips. The signs of the inside of her cheek between teeth. And your particular favourite, the way she scrunched up her nose. It was adorable. She was adorable. And suddenly your cheeks felt hot and the pounding of your heartbeat was so loud in your ears as you blurt out the words.

"I can't do this,"

"You can't put together plastic bricks?" Her tone suggested playful teasing but her expression was one of curiosity. Or perhaps confusion. "I know it says eighteen on the box but I'm pretty sure a kid could do this,"

"No Van," A soft sigh. "Not the lego, this. I can't do this," You use your hand to usher between the two of you. Her face relaxes. A much more neutral expression settling.

"Oh," a pause. "Weird way to break it off like,"

"I know. I just..." you glance at the pieces of Lego scattered across the table. Nothing about this felt casual for you anymore. Or more so, you don't want it to be. How you didn't realise before now was crazy. After a long day, all you wanted to do was see her. You brought food because you knew she probably hadn't eaten. You bought her a stupid Lego set just because you thought it would make her happy. Those butterflies weren't general anxiety. You like Van. You like Van a lot. But when you first matched on some stupid dating app, you knew what this was and had been fine with that. Casual. Why was it so hard to just fuck a beautiful woman and have it mean nothing more? Van was hot as fuck, knew what she wanted and was great in bed.

"Why'd you come if you don't wanna see me anymore? That's pretty fucked up." there is a playful lilt to her tone that only made you feel worse. She did not even seem to care. You were probably just another drop in the ocean to her.

"I didn't know," you admit. You start fiddling with a stray plastic brick to avoid looking at her. Avoid getting pulled back in by those captivating blue eyes. Twisting it round and round and round.

"So what was the kicker?"

"Watching you just now," You admit. A small shrug of your shoulders. "I'm sorry."

"Damn! Bring me a gift and then decide you never wanna see me again once we start-"

"You're wrong" you interject, forcing yourself to look at them. You don't expect them to be staring back and as your eyes meet, that little burst of confidence disappears. "I- It's not that I don't wanna see you. That's all I wanna do and that's the problem," Van continues to look at you, clearly expecting more of an explanation. "I really fucking like you Van. You're beautiful, so so smart and like really fucking funny and it's all just too much. Watching you play with your little lego just made me realise I don't think I can do casual anymore,"

"Oh," Now you expect her to say more but she doesn't. She goes back to playing. Opening up a fresh bag; the plastic bricks clatter against the wood.

"And I get that's what you want. That's all this was ever meant to be but if I don't put a stop to a now I'm just gonna be torturing myself."

"I get it- you don't have to explain." Van clarifies making you feel silly. You sit in a very awkward silence for a minute or two. She continues building. You watch her do it. But it's clear at this point that the only thing left to do is leave. The chair scrapes across the floor as you push away from the table and raise to your feet.

"I'm sorry," you express as if catching feelings was something you could just control. Grabbing your jacket.

"Uh... do you wanna stay over?" only one arm in your jacket when you come to a stop. Had you heard that right? Was she asking you to stay?

"What?"

"Do you wanna stay over tonight... maybe?" The woman repeats. She isn't really playing with the lego anymore just staring at it. You swallow hard.

"Van I can't," you say. "It'll feel just as shitty in the morning as it does now."

"I don't mean it like that," Van expresses. "When you showed up at my door unannounced I should have sent you away. It should have been so easy but I just couldn't because I was happy to see you. I wanted to see you."

"Oh," Is that a bad thing? She was making it seem like it was.

"Yeah... and I indulged it- I let you in and you brought food and this gift and I was like fuck, she must really like me" Van continues to explain. Not so subtly calling you out. "and even then I didn't want you to leave so stay."

"Van-"

"I want you to stay," and you swear your heart skips a beat. A mix of emotions swirling in your stomach. Equal parts excitement and bafflement. "If you want to like- even just to finish the lego,"

You're kind of at a loss for words. Scared to say anything that might ruin the moment. Her words weren't the same as yours. There was no confirmation of feelings but a plea to stay instead. You withdraw your arm from the jacket, tossing it over the back of the chair. Maybe it was enough to feel wanted in the moment? She didn't seem the type to manipulate your feelings just to sleep together. Her words hold weight. She was happy to see you. Happy to just sit and build Lego. You lower back into the chair. Van watches; a smile slowly spreading over her lips. But still doubt remains and you have just enough conviction to ask a follow-up question.

"What changed?"

Van shrugs. "not too many girls show up at my door with Chinese and Lego sets these days." and a once very serious conversation has returned to the playful nature that constantly comes with talking to her. "it really worked in your favour," she reaches for a plastic bag of lego and slides it across the table before going back to her own thing. A moment of pause. Eyes on the lego but a mischievous grin. "and not just because watching you do nerdy shit really turns me on,"

[icyg4l]

How Have You Grown Over the Past Year?

Hello beautiful people! Happy New Year! I am so happy to be posting this new PAC for you all. I plan to upload more frequently from now on in this new year of 2025. I am currently available for personal readings so if you would like one, please message me privately! As the title states, this reading is all about recognizing the growth you've made in the past twelve months. So without further ado, please choose the pile that resonates with you the most!

Top Left to Bottom Right: (1-4)

Pile One: You must have gone from boo'd up to single, Pile One. I am hearing the word, "uprooted". Throughout the past year, you have been put in uncomfortable situations consecutively. You could have had to switch jobs because of an incident or move homes because of a mold problem (for some of you). You could have lost multiple loved ones. Either way, these situations have helped you become more self-sufficient and resilient. Tragedies are hard to deal with, however, you have learned what not to do. You intuitively picked up on how to handle situations that others would not be able to. You may feel hardened by these particular experiences, unable to see past your traumas. But you are more empathetic than ever. It is important that you know you will be a great teacher some day. One day you will look back on everything that you have accomplished while in the midst of chaos.

Cards Used: 4 of Wands. 3 of Swords. The High Priestess. 5 of Cups. 10 of Cups.

Affirmation: "I am actively rebuilding my life one step at a time."

Pile Two: The past couple of years could have been socially debilitating for you. Some of you could have prominent Saturn placements, such as a 1H Saturn or Capricorn/Aquarius Sun. I am sensing an energy of nervousness here. It's possible that you can have prominent Virgo/Gemini energy too. Anyway, you have had a come-to-Jesus moment. For years, you have allowed yourself to fall behind, to be in the shadows. But now, you you are making the attempt to be heard and seen. But remember who you are doing this for. Is it to wear the shoes of those who've belittled you? Or is it to walk your own path with your head held high? It seems that you are choosing to believe in yourself rather than listening to other people. You're becoming bolder by the minute. It's what your inner child would have wanted. Trusting the ideas that make no sense will be fulfilling to you. Make sure that you continue to leave your mark on this world, dear.

Cards Used: 3 of Cups (RX). The Hermit. 6 of Cups. Judgment. 8 of Wands.

Affirmation: "Expressing myself comes easy."

Pile Three: You deserve a round of applause, babe. It takes a lot of strength and tenacity to be loved. To be vulnerable with someone is to be seen fully by the other person. Your energy feels like a warm embrace. Your goal of feeling whole cannot be completed without the right people around you. Be glad that you've let these people in as they genuinely care for you. You've acquired peace, because you've realized that being hyper-independent isn't enough. Because of pride, many people would not own up to their feelings of insecurity. But because you are honest with yourself and are humble enough to allow honest people in your life, you are now living in a world full of happiness. Peace and quiet is great to bask in. Just stay grounded and don't let self-sabotage get to you.

Cards Used: The World. Strength. Queen of Discs. King of Discs.

Affirmation: "Love and support surrounds me everywhere I go."

Pile Four: Self-concept is important, is it not? That's why you made the decision to stop beating yourself up. You stopped setting unrealistic goals for yourself that could have possibly landed you into the hospital, or a rehab facility. You fought for a healthier body image. You casted spells to feel more comfortable in your skin. You have reflected on the jokes and slick comments, and instead of sulking, you just sat with them. You take them to the chin. It has taken a lot of rewiring to not make yourself the butt of the joke, but here you are. Forgiving yourself is no easy journey. But you have done it. You are doing it. Now don't let anyone, including yourself, deface you again. Letting the haters hate you, instead of being a self-hater, is a damn good philosophy that you've added to your noggin, babe!

Cards Used: 7 of Wands. The Emperor. 3 of Wands. 4 of Discs. 10 of Wands (RX). Queen of Wands.

Affirmation: "I accept my body in every form that it comes in"

[herstoryheaven]

Lando Norris x Reader: Driven By A Promise

Prompt: You make a promise with Lando, if he wins the Zandvoort Grand Prix you’ll go on a date with him.

Reader: Female

Word count: 2643

Average reading time: 9 min 35 sec

Category: Fluff

Warnings: None

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Disclaimer: All events portrayed in my stories are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events is purely coincidental. Any actions or behaviours portrayed by the characters may differ from reality and cannot be connected to any actual person. This work is purely fictional and intended for entertainment purposes only.

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The roar of the engines, the smell of burning rubber, and the festive atmosphere of Zandvoort filled the air. It was race day, and the stakes had never been higher for Lando Norris. The young driver stood by his McLaren, helmet in hand, glancing over the bustling pit lane with a determined look in his eyes. But today, his focus wasn’t just on the race, it was on something or rather someone else entirely.

That someone was you, Y/n. Over the past few weeks, Lando had made it no secret that he was into you. His flirty remarks, cheeky smiles, and lingering glances were all aimed your way. You had played along, keeping him on his toes, but deep down, you were starting to feel the effect of his undeniable charm.

“Y/n.” Lando’s voice drew you from your thoughts, smooth as the rumble of his car’s engine. He walked up to you, that boyish grin tugging at his lips, the one you were getting far too accustomed to. His eyes, usually so focused on the track, now held yours with an intensity that made your heart race more than any Formula 1 car could. "How about you finally let me take you out?" He asked, his tone teasing yet laced with sincerity. "You know I’ve been asking nicely for a while now."

You rolled your eyes, feigning nonchalance, but you couldn’t hide the smile tugging at your lips. “Lando, you know the deal.” you replied, the words almost playful but with a hint of challenge. “You win this Grand Prix, and I’ll let you take me wherever you want.”

His eyes lit up with a mix of excitement and mischief, the green flecks in them shimmering like the track under the sunlight. “Anywhere?” he asked, stepping just a little closer, his hand brushing against yours ever so slightly, a touch so brief yet so planned it sent a shiver up your spine.

“Anywhere.” you confirmed, your voice steady despite the flutter in your chest. You crossed your arms, trying to maintain your composure, giving him a look that dared him to take you up on the challenge. “But only if you win.”

Lando’s grin widened, his expression softening as he leaned in, closing the gap between you until the scent of his cologne mixed with the lingering traces of fuel and rubber. He reached out, his fingers lightly grazing the back of your hand, tracing an invisible line that left your skin tingling. “Well then.” he murmured, his voice dropping to a tone so low it was almost a whisper, his breath warm against your ear, “I guess I’ll just have to win, won’t I?”

You felt your breath hitch as his words hung in the air, charged with promise and anticipation. His thumb brushed gently over your knuckles, a touch so intimate yet tender that it felt like a silent vow, a promise of more to come. 

And then, in a gesture so simple yet so filled with meaning, Lando lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it, his lips lingering against your skin just a moment longer than necessary. When he finally pulled away, his eyes found yours again, filled with a confidence that made your pulse quicken.

“Wish me luck, Y/n.” he said, his voice playful again, but the intensity in his gaze told you that this race, this moment, meant more than just a possible victory on the track.

As he turned to leave, helmet in hand, you couldn’t help but watch him go, your heart pounding in a way that had nothing to do with the upcoming race.

-----

The race started with Lando on pole position, and as the lights went out, the chaos of the Grand Prix began. Your heart raced as you watched from the paddock, your eyes glued to the screen. The roar of the engines, the squeal of tires, the adrenaline coursing through your veins, it all melded into a symphony of speed and skill that held you captive. Almost immediately, Max Verstappen surged ahead, taking first place and leaving Lando not far behind him.

But Lando wasn’t one to give up so easily. With a determination that left you breathless, he pursued Max, lap after lap, his McLaren a blur of orange streaking across the track. Every turn, every maneuver was executed with a precision that bordered on artistry. You could feel the determination through the whole paddock, as he fought not just for the win, but for something far more personal.

By lap 18, he reclaimed the lead. It was a moment of triumph so intense, it sent a thrill down your spine. Your heart leapt as you saw him take the lead, the car responding to his every command, moving with a grace and aggression that left no doubt, Lando Norris was in control. Once he had the lead, there was no looking back. He widened the gap, pushing his car to its absolute limits, knowing full well what was on the line, what promise lingered on the edge of victory.

As the race reached its final lap, the tension was noticeable. The checkered flag waved, and in a moment that felt almost surreal, Lando crossed the finish line with a significant margin of over 20 seconds, victorious. The crowd erupted in cheers, their voices rising in a symphony of celebration. But amidst all the noise, your own emotions drowned out the world around you. Your heart soared with pride and excitement, not just because he’d won his second Grand Prix, but because you knew what was coming next.

And then, over the radio, despite the buzz of the pit lane and the celebration of the team, Lando’s voice cut through. But it wasn’t his usual, happy tone, this time, it was demanding, almost urgent. “Get Y/n on the radio. I want to speak to her, now.” The intensity in his voice sent a jolt through you, his need to share this moment with you clear as day.

The engineer, slightly taken aback, quickly patched you through. “Y/n, are you there?” Lando’s voice came through the static, and suddenly, the entire world seemed to narrow down to just the two of you, connected by the invisible thread of his victory and the promise that had led him here.

“I’m here, Lando.” you replied, your voice shaky with emotion. You could hear the roar of the crowd in the background, but it all seemed distant compared to the closeness of his voice in your ear.

“I did it.” he said, his voice breaking into a breathless laugh, half disbelieving, half euphoric. “I won. And do you know what that means?”

A smile spread across your face, your eyes glistening with unshed tears of joy. “I do.” you whispered, feeling the warmth of his victory wrap around you like a physical embrace.

“Good.” he replied, his tone softening, becoming almost tender through the crackle of the radio. “Because as soon as I get out of this car, I’m coming for you, Y/n. And I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

The weight of his words, the raw emotion in his voice, left you breathless. As the team surrounded his car, celebrating his win, you knew that this wasn’t just about the race anymore. It was about the promise you had made, the connection that had grown between you both, and the future that now lay wide open before you.

The moment he climbed out of the car, victorious, sweat-drenched but utterly triumphant, his eyes immediately sought you out in the crowd. And when he found you, standing there with your heart in your throat and your emotions worn openly on your face, he smiled, a smile that held all the promises of the night ahead.

-----

Lando didn’t waste any time. After the podium celebrations, where he couldn’t stop grinning, he quickly showered and changed into a crisp white button-down and black trousers that fit him perfectly. The way the fabric clung to his frame, still slightly damp from the shower, gave him an effortlessly handsome look that made your heart skip a beat.

Meanwhile, you slipped into the short orange dress you’d brought with you just in case Lando actually pulled off the win. The color was a reference to his McLaren, a playful homage to the vibrant energy of the race. The way it hugged your curves made you feel confident and beautiful, each glance in the mirror reminding you that tonight was going to be unforgettable. You knew Lando would appreciate the effort, but when you finally walked out to meet him, the look on his face made you feel like the most beautiful person in the world.

Lando’s eyes widened, his breath catching as he took you in. His admiration was evident, a slow, appreciative smile spreading across his face. “Wow, Y/n, you look… incredible.” he murmured, his voice filled with genuine awe as his gaze lingered on you, drinking in every detail.

“You don’t look too bad yourself.” you replied, your voice soft, your smile widening as you took in the sight of him, so dashing, so charming. It was a side of him you didn’t see to often, and it made your heart flutter.

He stepped closer, his movements slow, deliberate, as if savoring the moment. Offering you his arm like a true gentleman, he asked, “Ready for our date?” His tone was playful, but his eyes held a sincerity that made the simple question feel weighted with unspoken promises.

“I am.” you replied, slipping your hand into the crook of his arm, the contact sending a spark of electricity through you. The warmth of his body so close to yours made the world around you fade, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of anticipation. “So, where are we going?”

Lando’s smile turned secretive, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “It’s a surprise.” he said, his voice a low murmur that made your pulse quicken. “But trust me, I think you’ll love it.”

He had planned everything in advance, confident not only in his victory on the track but in winning your heart as well. He led you to a secluded, charming restaurant overlooking the beach, where the waves gently lapped against the shore under the golden glow of the setting sun. The scene before you was breathtaking, the table was set for two, with candlelight flickering softly, casting a warm, intimate glow over everything. The entire evening felt like something out of a dream, carefully crafted to sweep you off your feet.

“This is perfect.” you whispered, your voice filled with awe as you looked around, touched by the thoughtfulness he’d put into the evening. It was more than you had expected, more than anyone had ever done for you.

Lando smiled, his gaze tender as he pulled out your chair, waiting for you to sit before he took his place besides you. “Only the best for you, love.” he said softly, his hand immediately reaching over the table to take yours. His fingers intertwined with yours, the connection between you clear as day, his touch gentle yet firm. “I meant it when I said I wanted to take you out. I’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time.”

Your breath caught at the sincerity in his words, your cheeks flushing with warmth. “And I’m glad you did.” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “This… this is really special, Lando.”

His smile deepened, his thumb brushing gently over the back of your hand, sending shivers down your spine. “You’re special, Y/n. And I’m going to spend every day making sure you know that.”

The evening unfolded like a beautiful, slow dance. As you talked and laughed, sharing stories and dreams, the chemistry between you grew, an undeniable force that pulled you closer with every passing moment. Lando was attentive, his gaze never straying far from yours, his hand never letting go of yours for long. He was a perfect mix of charm and respect, his every word, every glance making you feel like you were the only person in the world.

As the night wore on, the conversation grew quieter, more intimate. Lando’s hand slipped from yours, tracing a slow, steady path along your arm, his touch sending a thrill through you. When he reached under the table, his fingers lightly brushing against your leg, the sensation was electric. His hand lingered there, resting on your thigh, his touch warm, possessive, yet tender.

He leaned in closer, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. "Y/n," he began, his voice a soft whisper, "I don't think you realize just how much you mean to me. Every time I see you, it's like everything else fades away, and all I can think about is how lucky I am to have you in my life."

His words were raw, filled with a sincerity that made your breath catch. "You're not just beautiful," he continued, his hand gently brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "You're the person I look for in every room, the one who makes everything feel right even when it's all falling apart."

Lando's voice trembled slightly, the vulnerability in his tone tugging at your heart. "I’ve been wanting to tell you this for so long… You’re everything to me, Y/n. My best friend, my anchor, and… the person I can’t stop thinking about."

He paused, his lips brushing against your cheek in a soft, lingering kiss. "I don’t know where this is all going," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin, "but I know that I don’t want to face it without you. I need you by my side, now and always." His words hung in the air, filled with a quiet desperation that left you breathless, your skin tingling where his lips had touched, as if the world had shifted and everything finally made sense.

You turned to him, your eyes meeting his, the air between you charged with a tension that had been building all night. The world around you seemed to slow, the gentle sound of the waves fading into the background as Lando’s hand tightened slightly on your thigh, his touch grounding you, pulling you into the moment.

“I’ve been wanting to do this since I first got the honor of laying my eyes on you.” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion, before leaning in and capturing your lips in a kiss that was soft yet full of the passion that had been simmering between you. His hand on your thigh tightened, pulling you closer as his lips moved against yours, the kiss deepening as the night and the ocean whispered their approval.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, both of you breathless, the moment suspended in time. “So, love.” he said, his voice still a little breathless, his eyes soft as they searched yours. “Was this date worth the wait?”

You smiled up at him, your heart full, knowing that this was only the beginning of something truly special. “It was worth every second.”

Lando’s grin widened, and he leaned in to press another tender kiss to your forehead. “Good.” he whispered against your skin, his lips lingering as if he couldn’t bear to pull away. “Because I’m already planning the next one.”

As he walked you back to your hotel, the stars twinkling above, his arm around your waist, you couldn’t help but feel that you were on the verge of something extraordinary. The warmth of his hand on your side, the way he held you close as if he never wanted to let go, it was a promise of more, a future filled with moments like this.

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[lostinlovingrevery]

TALK ABOUT LOGAN U SAY

anywayssss

I’m getting sick 😭😭 and I am terrible at taking care of myself. I don’t really drink water and I’m bad at eating and I don’t take medicine bc im lazy sooo low key I need Logan to come and tell me im an idiot and cuddle me and be my nurse tyvm

ROOOOOOOOOOOSE TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF@!!!!!!!!

I say, as I didnt eat until 7:30 pm for the first time since I woke up at 6am, don't remember the last time i drink water, and used to skip taking medication when i had them

I hope you start feeling better!! Load up on vitamins, fruit, protein, hell take some gummy vitamins if you can. drink some orange juice!!!

Logan would be SUUUUUUUCH A GOOD CARETAKER!!!!!! HONESTLY!!! I think he would love doing it. I think initially he would have trouble warming up (like yknow first coming to the mansion or whatever situation you and logan find yourselves in) but like its canon he makes food and does nice things for others once he's settled in to the mansion.

and when hes got you????? LORD.

LOGAN TAKING CARE OF YOU HEADCANONS!!!!!!

he'll definitely nag your ass. Professional Nagging Champion over here. only because he wants you to take care of yourself

maybe at one point he acts nonchalant, "im not your babysitter" howlett but inside he's secretly raging over the fact that you're complaining of a headache meanwhile all you ate was a fruit snack today. Okay no more being "Cool guy" howlett. he wants to take care of you (think abotu what you do for him!!!)

He'll have alarms set on his phone (that he barely understands how to use but he figured that part out at least). even when he's out and without you he'll be texting you to take your meds

will probs be the one to grab your medicine case too when leaving

Like i said, I think Logan is a pretty good cook- okay, MAYBE X1/worst/old man Logan was on the road/struggling to survive and barely cooked the entire time but I still think he'd be sooo good at it. make the yummiest, healthiest meals

(NO MICROWAVES)

Will learn your favorite recipes and make them on days he notices you're more rundown. He won't tell you on purpose bc he loves seeing the happy surprise on your face when you come into the kitchen

will bring you sliced fruit. ultimate act of love for me.

will buy you a water bottle and check on it to make sure you're drinking and also make you drink water whenever he's around

he's not super loud about it. when he takes care of you. obvious, but not loud.

like setting a water bottle firmly in front of you, or bringing you food but not saying a word about it. its just how he expresses his love. actions, not words. (when you're in private that might be a lil different tho...)

when he notices you're rundown, got the sniffles, looking sicker than usual in general he'll force you to take a nap with him under the premise of snuggling, but really its to get you to rest (but also snuggles. you cannot tell me this man is not the biggest cuddle bug on earth. im not just saying that bc i wanna cuddle with him. i truly think he would love cuddling and would be silently grumpy if he couldn't get the morning snuggles with you)

will give you massages to help you feel better

listen. listen. those massages always lead to something more. unless you're seriously ill. you're getting fucked.

will get protective and pissy to anyone(sorry scott) around you who start nagging you about paperwork, work in general, and whatever else. he knows you're doing your best and he's not gonna take shit or let you take shit from anyone

so so so comforting on your bad days. lots of hugs. kisses. reassurance. cursing out anyone who made you feel bad (either in private or to their faces logan doesn't care)

don't be concerned about his stoic ways when he does these things for you. he absolutely delights in doing so. living so long as a soldier, a weapon- he didn't think he'd be capable of being soft, affectionate, taking care of some one. now you're here and you help him so much and to be able to both return the favor and truly commit to his love is such a wonderful thing for him.

if you mention your feet being sore just once he'll want to carry you around the rest of the day. he just likes parading you around in his arms

when you're sick sick, nurse logan on the way.

sorry to anyone else that may try to help you because logan will straight up shove them out of the way.

hes tucking you in bed and giving you ALL the snuggles. checking your temp constantly. making you homemade comfort food. getting you the medicine you need. also I feel like he would try it just to see how it tastes since he never needs to take it. prepare for a rant of disgusts and then he goes out of his way to find better and tastier alternatives for you.

talks SO gently to you as well. he really is a lover boy <3

i actually have a request for logan taking care of a sick reader so i'll save some stuff for that

will curse under his breath tho, about sharing healing factors cause he really hates that you can't be well. at least he can coddle you though

will be that bitch and get you to do things for yourself by calling you sweet petnames and asking "for me, princess?" with that stupid charming smile that you cant resist and he KNOWS. screw you logan now im eating a balanced breakfast and taking my multivitamins.