#I never know who likes to be tagged in games

[bruhstories]

Bet IV

p.1 here & p.2 here & p.3 here

mandatory mdni because things will start to get heated up in the following chapters.

summary: you're starting to feel things for the man who hired you to take care of his cat. but he's only being nice. that's it and nothing more. pairing: hwang in-ho/the front man x civilian!reader warnings & content: age gap, afab!reader, slightly detailed descriptions of reader’s background for plot purposes, red text for in-ho, purple for reader, pre 33rd squid game, canon divergent, domestic violence (reader gets slapped by her uncle), veeeery slow burn, reader's dad is dead w/c: 2.1k

a/n: if you would like to be tagged for the next part, please check this post! thank you for reading! please remember that if you asked to be tagged but i can't find your age on your blog, you will NOT be tagged. there will be smut and people dying lol.

"Where were you last night?"

You sighed at your uncle's question, sick and tired of explaining the same thing over and over again. He woke up earlier than he should have, especially for a man who worked night shifts at a warehouse. He did it on purpose, just to have more reasons to pick on you, and you knew that all too well. You lived through that hell for the past ten years.

"I told you, I was cat sitting." 

"Cat sitting." He repeated with derision in his voice. "You need to get a real job."

"I have two real jobs." You reminded him, and it took all your willpower not to raise your voice at him.

"Where's the money, then? Huh?" Your uncle grabbed you by the wrist, twisting it backwards.

"I'm getting paid today!"

"How much?" 

"660,326!" You cried out as his fingernails dug deeper into your skin.

"I better see that money on my nightstand by tomorrow morning." He let go of your wrist. "Keep the change."

How generous, you thought, rubbing the crescent-shaped dents in your skin. At least he didn't hit you, but your small victory crumbled when he turned on his heels, smacking you with the plastic fly swatter in his hand. Once. Twice. Thrice. 

You didn't cry, not in front of him. Never in front of him. 

But when you stepped through the doors of Mr. Hwang's penthouse, the dam broke, and tears streamed down your cheeks. They burned when they touched the cracked, swollen skin, courtesy of your uncle, but you still smiled at the sight of Eunjoo.

Instead of waiting next to the water bowl, like she had done before, the cat jumped on the countertop, her paw gently touching your wrist, where the imprinted dents of his fingernails were still visible. You didn't know why, but Eunjoo's gesture made you cry harder, heavy tears falling onto her plate. 

"Good kitty." You sobbed, daring to pet her, and she allowed it, nuzzling your hand for the first time since you met her.

Without wasting a single moment, you took out your phone to take a selfie of you and Eunjoo, and sent it to In-ho, with the caption 'Making progress!' You thought he might be happy to see her slowly lower her guard and get attached to you.

Who hurt you?

Stupid. How could you be so stupid to send a selfie when your cheek was grazed and puffy? Of course Mr. Hwang would ask about it, he was a nice man, one whose kindness you didn’t think you deserved.

I accidentally walked into a lamppost! Silly, right?

Hoping that the lie would be convincing enough, you carried on with your tasks after eating with Eunjoo, and to your surprise, it worked. It fooled him, but you weren’t proud of yourself in the slightest. 

You need to be more careful next time. If anything happened to you, who would take care of Eunjoo until I return?

It shouldn't have hurt reading his reply, and yet your heart ached. What did you expect? You were an employee, he obviously wanted his cat to be safe, not you. And how could someone like him even care about someone you? You came from different worlds that could never intertwine.

I will.

No thank you, no sad face — you were bitter, even though, rationally, you had no reason to be. Besides, you lied to him in the first place. Maybe if you told him the truth, he would have sent a different reply. It didn't matter. In less than five days he would come back, pay you and never speak to you again. Just like all rich people did.

You cleaned the bathrooms that morning, scrubbing the bath tubs, the toilets, the sinks and the floors until your fingertips stung and your head pounded from the bleach fumes. The vibration of your phone startled you, and you wiped your hands to check the notification.

Have I upset you?

Okay, maybe he did care. Or maybe he was just very observant and noticed your monotonous reply.

Not at all, I just have a lot on my mind. I'm sorry that you worried about me, or that I seemed upset! You're right, I need to be more careful next time.

Please don't take this the wrong way, miss, but I've never met anyone who apologised for making me worry about them. You're quite special.

You did a double take when you read Mr. Hwang's reply, and a wave of remorse crushed your heart. The man was too nice for you to lie to him, but you didn't want him involved in your family affairs, either. There was a strong internal conflict within you, a battle between honesty and dishonesty, but for the time being, dishonesty won, no matter how disgraceful it was.

Choosing not to reply, as time was ticking and the Abduls would be waiting for you soon, you swiftly finished tidying up the bathrooms and put away all the cleaning products so Eunjoo couldn't get to them. With the automatic feeder full, fresh water in the bowl and litter boxes clean, you left.

In all fairness, you didn't know what to reply to his text. No one called you special before, except for that one guy you dated who only wanted to sleep with you, and unfortunately succeeded. It wasn't your proudest moment, but you moved on since then. You stared at the text, typing a reply, then deleting it, then typing again, and you did that for the duration of the entire bus ride back to Guryong Village. By the time you knocked on Ali's door, you still hadn't come up with a response.

What could you even say? Thank you? Likewise? I'm sorry I lied to you, my uncle slapped me with the fly swatter? No. In telling the truth, Mr. Hwang would pity you, perhaps even offer you more money, or food, or clothes, and you didn't want to be pitied. You wanted your hard work to be recognised, not to use your social status or depressing background as an excuse.

Mrs. Abdul couldn't feed you that day, and that was fine. They needed to prioritise themselves, since they didn't live any better than you. Luckily, you saved enough money to buy a kimbap roll for lunch and a bag of rice crackers for dinner and breakfast. Resourcefulness was, perhaps, your strongest point and the reason you survived for so long.

The theme park was packed with tourists and locals, gathering to watch the parade, and you took the time to entertain children and take pictures with them, always on your feet, always working. Back in the dressing room, you took the comically large mascot head off, sweat dripping down your face and neck. Summers were worse — there were body parts you didn't think could sweat.

"Excuse me, Y/N?"

You looked up from your seat to a man around your age, a coworker named Donghyun. He had worked there for a few months or so, but you barely spoke.

"Yes?" You smiled, resting your elbows on the mascot head in your lap.

"We're getting paid today, and a few of us are going for drinks after work. I was wondering if you would like to come." Donghyun avoided looking into your eyes, nervously pinching the soft fur of his own mascot.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, but I have another job I need to get to. Maybe another time."

"Yeah, another time." He nodded. "Hey, could I get your number?"

"Why would you want my number?" You laughed, immediately pursing your lips when Donghyun frowned. "Sorry, yeah, of course I'll give you my number!"

You were such a people pleaser, it was ridiculous, but he seemed to feel better after saving your number in his phone. And there was no harm in making new friends.

"I'll text you later." Donghyun nodded with a smile and left.

What a strange interaction, you thought. It wasn't unusual for men to like you — you were pretty, smart, funny — but you just weren't interested in any of them. In fact, it was their age and maturity that didn't appeal to you. They acted like prepubescent pricks, trying to impress anything with a vagina and a pretty face by being obnoxious and loud and downright irritating.

Older men were different. They had manners, they were respectful and caring. They knew how to dress, knew how to speak to women, kind of like Mr. Hwang.

Oh. 

God, you needed to forcibly remove that thought from your mind before it spiraled into something worse. In-ho probably wanted nothing to do with you — no, he definitely didn’t want anything to do with you. He was just a nice gentleman who happened to not be married. Maybe he had a girlfriend that didn't live with him. Or maybe he worked so much he couldn't afford a relationship. 

Maybe he murdered people.

You laughed at that ridiculous idea — no one in their right mind would do that, especially not Mr. Hwang. He had a cat, for God's sake. Murderers usually killed animals, surely he was just a normal man with a lot on his mind, a workaholic, or a hermit.

Walking into your boss' office, you received your pay and counted the money — 662,326. You got more than you should've, completely forgetting about the pay rise. Your uncle didn't need to know about that, and you took the extra 2,326 and hid it in a small pocket inside your backpack, along with other money you saved. Unbeknownst to him, you secretly opened a savings account in the hopes that one day you would be able to leave and rent your own place, but you only had 1,094,463.60 won, which was barely enough to cover the deposit.

One day. One day you would leave all that abuse behind and have a fresh start. But today was not that day. 

Back in Gangnam-gu, you entered the penthouse earlier than normal and dropped your bag on the floor next to your worn and torn boots. You were hoping they would last through winter because you really couldn't afford a new pair. Eunjoo ran to greet you for the first time, and your heart was filled with joy at the sight of the cat rubbing against your leg. She was growing on you, and you soon realised how much you'd miss her when Mr. Hwang returned. Perhaps he'd let you visit her. 

You turned the TV on and played some songs by ABBA, the sadness of the morning gone, replaced only by joy and optimism. Things would turn out well, you just knew it. You grabbed In-ho's black clothes and placed them in the washing machine, all the while dancing to the beat of Money, Money, Money. It was a song you related to, but you didn't want to find a wealthy man. You just wanted to have enough money to survive without your uncle.

"It's a rich man's world." You sang to Eunjoo, who wiggled her butt, playfully attacking your feet. 

"All the things I could do if I had a little money, kitty. I would get my own apartment, I would donate to orphanages and charities. Oh, don't look at me like that." You frowned when Eunjoo stared at you judgmentally. "I would! There are people out there who need help. But you know what I would get for me? A hotteok! Ah, I would kill for that cinnamony goodness."

You placed the food on the floor and opened the pack of rice crackers. 

"My dad got me a hotteok on my seventh birthday. It was the best birthday ever and- oh my God, I'm talking to a cat." Laughing at the sudden realisation, you shook your head in disbelief. "Well, you're probably my only friend anyway. You don't judge me. You don't care if I'm rich or poor. You just listen and eat. Oh!"

Good evening, Mr. Hwang! Could I ask what your favourite dish is?

You decided that would be your gift. Cooking wasn't your strongest skill, but you were confident in yourself. And who didn't want to come back to a hot home-made meal? Maybe he liked jajangmyeon, or jjigae, or something sweet, like chapssaltteok. The possibilities were endless.

Beef Wellington. Why?

Your heart sunk to your stomach. Beef fucking Wellington? How on Earth could you even afford all the ingredients? The tenderloin itself was probably over 65,000 won. But you were going to do it for him, regardless of what it cost. You felt that Mr. Hwang deserved it. 

I was hoping to cook it for you when you returned. I'll admit, I didn't think it would be such a... fancy dish, but I'm sure I can manage. 

Have you tried it before?

I'm afraid not. Is it good?

Exquisite. You'll have to stay and try it when I return, yes?

Chewing on your bottom lip, your heart skipped a beat at his request. You knew he was just being nice, but you couldn't stop the sudden burning desire to just obey. 

Yeah, I'll stay. 

tagging: @ri1liane @anmert1 @syraxnyra @frshluvcats @lanyia @mettreads @nightdark-dreamdark @bridge-always @lovekm @audrey223 @ririgy @starkeyszn  @hobiesbrownsgf  @thoughtfulbelieverstrawberry @maria-trisha @akiqvq @10hrs26mn @tenzko @okaycharr @politicstanner @moonxknightx @googie-jeon @swthrtbyeol  @mariiestfu  @ratsnestinmyhair @missroro @talia-the-gemini @fortluocha @true-queen-of-mischief @ssa-callahan @bibliophile-yomna @wwastro @heartsforseo @marymun @glads-stuff @starryeddie @kisses2kanao @gagaga167 @l4venderia @scryi @lelisae @twicelover2 @ashtrosstuff @cruel-affair @cdej6 @veragrhm @nikos-a-clown @cchewhaz @pepsicolacoochie @lily-ann-b @red22wolf @nellabear @unabletonotlovesatoru @happiness2112 @waterjewelsspite @luna-looniesnlog @plan3t-plut0 @full-sunnies @houta-habtet-houta @alexisabirdie @riri53 @bluehourss

[windixie]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ out of touch ♱ soccer player! gojo x alt! reader pt.1

summary : gojo is the university's most popular boy and soccer player. he can get any girl he wanted to warm up his bed, so why did he catch feelings for the girl who looks like she just woke up out of a coffin?

warnings ☠︎︎ this will contain smut throughout the story. reader is implied to have a smaller chest! gojo is an asshole :( so angst, profanity, insecurities, p in v, creampie, comfort, fluff, slight breeding kink, light choking, jealousy, ill prob add to the list as the story progresses!

word count : 1.03k

let me know if you want to be added to the tag list !!

you knew gojo. hell, everyone knew gojo. annoying, loud, obnoxious, ah should I go on? that's how you described the so called star player on the soccer team. his ego reached all the way towards the clouds by how much he was admired in the community. you on the other hand, not so much. sure you were known by many but not in such a positive way. you were intelligent sure, but the way you dressed wasn't entirely accepted. you were always getting bothered by other students, one of them being no other than satoru gojo. although, it seems that you two have grown into a friendship lately.

"hey pretty" you heard an awfully familiar voice come up behind you. the white haired boy was still in his blue and white soccer jersey covered in grass stains and some of his sweat from his practice that he just came from. you gave him one of your small sweet smiles."hi gojo" you mumbled back.

he looked down at your figure. the pretty black blouse fit you so perfect as well as those mini grey jean shorts that cupped your ass so deliciously. gojo took notice of you wearing your earbuds which he took one of them and placed it in his ear. "whatcha listening to?" you faced him slightly annoyed as you looked at how his face scrunched up in disgust.

"seriously? how can your ears support all that screaming?" he grimaced as he heard the loud singing.

he let out a chuckle at that before his eyes lit up as he realized something. reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a piece of paper handing it to you. you blamed the shot of arousal that traveled towards you as you took notice of how veiny his arms were. you glanced down to see it was a ticket. a ticket to his upcoming soccer game, to be exact.

your eyebrows picked up as you turned to him. "you want me to go to your game?" the question made the blue eyed boy nod. "want you there on the stands baby, if you can, then I promise to play even better than I usually do." you were shocked to say the least. the satoru gojo inviting you to his game personally even after countless months of relentless bullying was not something you could see coming.

but you couldn't help yourself from nodding. "yeah sure ill be there!" the feeling of your heart beating against your chest brought a scary but not unwelcome feeling. You stared at him for a moment, unsure if you were hearing things correctly. The blue-eyed boy, a walking angel blessed by God himself, smirked down at you with a flicker of something you couldn’t quite place. It wasn't the usual cocky smirk. It was different—something warmer, maybe? Or maybe you were just imagining it.

"I'd like that."

"great, ill see you tomorrow after school then?" he asked in which you let out an mhm in return. "okay pretty, try and get some sleep. you need some just by judging off your eye bags" he teased. "shut up!"

you watched the taller boy walk off. his use of the sweet and loving names made you feel a little awkward, but you shoved it down. You had a feeling that this was just another one of his ways of throwing you off. It wasn’t like he was being sweet. Not Gojo. He never was.

As you walked off to the other side of where the dormitories where taking note on how the night was now awakening due to time change. as you reached for your AirPods case to put back your earbuds your fingers stopped on your left ear. your earbud was missing.

gojo didn't take notice of the music cutting off. he was in a completely different world thinking about none other than you. he didn't understand how he caught feelings. no matter how many times he reminded himself it was you and how he could do some much better that that. he only gave you to ticket to his game only to be nice, is what he told himself. a friendly gesture friends do all the time!

"yo Satoru!" one of his friends called out to him. gojo turned to look at the boy with long black hair and big ass gauges walking up to him along with some other boys from the team. a smile crept up on his face dabbing them all up. "hey you all did well at practice today"

"yeah man that's what we came to say as well but we saw you talking to that emo freak uh whats her name, y/n?" this made gojo slightly embarrassed on how they caught him. "don't tell me you hitting on that emo pussy, it can't be that good" one of the other teammates chuckled making the white haired boy slightly uncomfortable.

"nah man, too busy with uraume" Geto patted his back "good good, lets keep it that way. she's got a better body anyways. let me burrow her sometime yeah?" the blacked hair boy received a nudge at that making him chuckle.

you looked around you trying to find the taller boy to retrieve your airpod. sighing in relief as you saw him. "gojo!" you called out making the boys turn around.

"ah she came back for round two?"

you walked up to him. "hey uhm you still have my AirPods." you said pointing to his ear. "give back your friend her AirPods satoru" his friend teased.

"we're barely friends. acquaintance is a better term" he mumbled out. as you received back your airpod, you stopped. eyes widening as you heard what he said. "acquaintance? thought we were-"

"friends?" he cut you off. "cmon I pay attention to you two or three times and now suddenly we're friends?" he scoffed. why was he acting like this? that's right, because he's satoru gojo. you were nowhere as close as him. you never will be. your face turned serious before you reached into you pocket handing him the ticket he gave you. "here, you dropped this" you mumbled.

gojos eyes fell down to the ticket in his hands. his heart broke a bit. "wait.. y/n-"

"forget it" with that you retrieved back to the direction to your dorm fighting back tears as you left the boy stunned.

"looks like you hurt her feelings, gonna go apologize?"

"nah."

© 2025 windixie. All work belongs to windixie . please do not copy, repost, plagiarize, any of my works as your own.

[burningembers91]

Rare - The Salesman x Fem!Reader (NSFW)

Follow up piece to:

Freak of Nature

On Display

A Game of Cat and Mouse

Crime of Passion

Synopsis: The Salesman wants to play a game with you. But when he changes the rules, so do you

A/N: I am immensely proud of this series. It’s unlike anything I’ve written before and I love exploring the darker sides of characters. This particular fic is probably my favourite so far. I wanted to thank everyone for the frankly mind boggling love I have received on all my fics so far. Thank you ❤️

It had been two weeks since your mysterious man in the grey suit had saved you. Two weeks since you’d given in to your desires. The day after he fucked you so hard that your bed slats broke, an entirely new bed arrived. One with a plush, cream, fabric headboard and a mattress that felt like you were sleeping on a cloud sent straight from heaven.

His heroics in the alleyway, the transition from something psychological to physical had changed the dynamics of your relationship. He didn’t want to admit it, but he could feel himself falling under your spell. It was a constant struggle to maintain the upper hand, to continue the illusion that you were entirely at his mercy. But you both knew it was a mutual torture, that each of you had the other twisted so deliciously around your respective fingers. The other night he had come so close to telling you his name. It had been so long since he’d spoken it, he wasn’t entirely sure he knew what is was anymore. But there was something about you, something deliciously dark bubbling after your soft, shea scented skin. You could be the death of him, this beautiful femme fatale. He wasn’t quite ready to relinquish control to you though; he still wanted to try and break you.

You received a phone call one day, requesting your attendance at an incredibly high end dress store in Myeong-Dong. As you made your way through the doors, the eye watering price tags made your jaw drop. You could never in a thousand lifetimes afford a dress like this; but you knew someone who could.

You were whisked into a private area, where several women with tape measures took measurements of your body. They didn’t speak to you, didn’t answer any of your questions. You were there less than five minutes, after being instructed to return to the store the next day to pick up your purchase.

“But I didn’t order anything,” you exclaimed, “can you just tell me what’s going on.”

“Our client is very discreet,” the store manager responded. “Please arrive promptly tomorrow to collect your purchase.”

You couldn’t text Mr Grey Suit to ask him what he was up to. You still weren’t privy to any personal information about him, including his phone number. He didn’t come to see you that night, leaving you to stew in your own thoughts about what he could have possibly ordered you.

The next day, you arrived at the time requested, and were once again greeted by the store manager who handed you a dress bag, with a note attached. I will see you tonight, 7pm. DO NOT LOOK IN THIS BAG UNTIL THEN. I will know if you do. You headed home, desperate to look inside the bag. You didn’t dare though, you had absolutely no doubt he would know if you took a peek.

Your grey suited man arrived at your apartment at 7pm sharp. He nodded appreciatively at your immaculate hair and makeup, cupping your chin in his hand as his eyes explored yours.

“Tonight,” he explained, “you will do exactly what I say, when I say it. If you disobey me, you will be punished. If you perform satisfactorily, you will be rewarded.”

“If I perform satisfactorily?” You scoffed. “I didn’t realise I was a circus monkey.”

He wiped his thumb along your lower lip, smearing the lipstick you’d applied not 10 minutes ago.

“You will do exactly what I say,” he growled. “Now, get dressed into the gift I gave you. And clean your face up. You have 5 minutes. Do not keep me waiting.”

You did as you were asked, presenting yourself like a piece of meat on a platter for him. He nodded approvingly, his hand trailing down the burgundy silk of the evening dress that fit you like a glove, the one he’d had made especially for you. You were a vision, an angel sent straight from heaven. He wasn’t going to tell you that though; he didn’t want to give you the satisfaction.

He took you to the most expensive restaurant in Seoul, where a private room had been set up especially. The staff were very discreet, and he’d need exactly that for what he hand in store for you tonight. You sat down opposite him at the small table, classical music quietly playing through the speakers. The room had no windows, lit only by the dimness of the candles dotted around the room.

“I took the liberty of ordering for you,” Mr Grey Suit said. “I’d expect you to eat every single bite.”

Champagne arrived, followed by oysters. You hated oysters with a fiery passion, but you forced yourself to finish every single one. You refused to show your distaste for them, refused to grimace as the slimy substance slid down your throat. Next up was steak, rare, the meat still oozing blood into to your plate, seeping into the accompanying potatoes. Your stomach turned; you hated red meat. You hadn’t eaten it since you were 10, the smell of it sending your stomach churning.

“I can’t,” you whispered, the metallic smell of the dead animals blood seeping into your nose.

“Are you disobeying me?” He asked, tutting as he tucked a linen napkin into his shirt. “I’m supposing you want to be punished then?”

“Please,” you choked, “anything but steak. I can’t, it’s the smell.”

“Stand up.” He told you. You stood to attention, ignoring the rising bile in your throat. “Come here.”

You did as you were told, your breath hitching as he pulled up your dress to your waist.

“Bend over,” he instructed. You obeyed, hearing the sound of his steak knife slide through the fabric of your lace underwear. You cried out as a sharp, swift slap was delivered to your right cheek, quickly followed by another, and then another. Each hit was harder than the last, tears streaking your face. The mixture of pleasure and pain was exquisite and yet so unbearable.

“Will you do as you’re told now?” He asked, his breath slightly ragged. You were soaking wet as you nodded, and he to resist sliding his fingers inside you. He was supposed to be punishing you after all, not giving you what you wanted.

You sat back down, the skin of your ass stinging as it made contact with the leather chair. Mascara smudged your cheeks, your face flushed. You looked down at the rare steak, then back up your mystery man. He was smiling so smugly at you; he clearly thought he’d won this little game. You smiled sweetly back, picked up your knife and fork, and sliced into the meat. You did your best to ignore the blood that seeped from it. You hardly breathed as you ate, swallowing the bile that continued to rise. A flash of anger contorted his usually handsome features; you were besting him yet again.

You proudly showed off your empty plate, sweat peppering your forehead from the immense effort. You refused to show you him how unwell you felt, choosing to down your glass of champagne to remove the metallic taste from your tongue. He begrudgingly poured you more, both of you smiling as you tried to figure out the others next move.

“What do I get then?” You finally asked, when the silence became too much.

“I’m sorry?” He said, dabbing the corner of his napkin as he surveyed you.

“You said if I did everything you asked, you’d reward me,” you reminded him.

“Ah,” he chuckled, “but you didn’t do everything I asked.”

“Yes, I did,” you snapped back. “I wore the dress, I ate the oysters and the fucking steak!” Eating that piece of meat had almost made you sick, but you’d done it. And he was reneging on his end of the bargain.

“But I had to punish you before you would eat he,” he smiled.

“And I did,” you hissed back at him, fists clenched under the table. “You can’t do this.”

“I can do whatever I want,” he whispered.

You looked him up again, his smug face looking entirely slappable in that moment.

“And so can I,” you decided. “Goodnight.” Throwing your napkin down on the table, you headed for the door.

“Wait!” His voice was desperate, panicked. He didn’t want you to leave. You stopped in your tracks, turning slowly to face him. He looked uneasy, wondering why his game wasn’t going the way he wanted.

“Fine, you sighed, “I’ll stay, but you’re going to play one of my games now.”

You fucked him on the floor of that private dining room, straddling him as you pressed the steak knife to his throat, the one he’d used to slice off your underwear. He quivered underneath you, entirely at your mercy as your slick, tight walls swallowed him again and again. He came with a strangled cry, thrusting his hips up into you as you drained every last drop of his seed.

Leaning down, you planted a single tender kiss on his lips.

“Goodnight, Mr Grey Suit,” you whispered. Standing up, you left him lying there on the cold marble floor, his cock still hard and his breathing ragged.

He had seriously underestimated you. What had started as a game of control, was now something entirely new to him. For the first time in his life, he was entirely at someone else’s mercy.

[solxamber]

Sannaclaw,9("your face is red as a reindeer nose"),fluff

Joining the Family || Jack Howl

For the Holiday Event! || Prompt: "Your face is as red as a reindeer's nose" ; Genre: Fluff

The Howl family home was alive with the sounds of laughter and the scent of freshly baked cookies. Snow dusted the windowsills, and a warm fire crackled in the hearth, casting a cozy glow over the festive scene.

Outside, you darted between snow-covered trees, dodging the giggles of Jack’s younger brother and sister as they chased after you in a spirited game of tag.

Jack stood on the porch, arms crossed and a lovesick expression softening his usually serious face. He watched as you laughed, and the way his siblings adored you made his heart swell even more.

“Jack,” his mother said from beside him, her tone light and teasing. “You look like you’re already planning the wedding. Honestly, I wouldn’t mind. They’re perfect for you.”

Jack’s ears flattened against his head, and his cheeks flushed a deep crimson. “M-Mom!” he protested, his voice cracking slightly as he turned his face away.

Before he could recover, you jogged up to the porch, your breath visible in the chilly air. You tilted your head at him, noticing the uncharacteristic redness in his face.

“Jack, your face is as red as Rudolph’s nose,” you teased, stepping closer. “Are you cold or something?”

He stammered, fumbling for a response. “I—it’s just—nothing!” His tail swished behind him in obvious embarrassment.

Before you could press him further, Jack’s younger sister tugged at your coat, looking up at you with wide, earnest eyes. “Hey,” she whispered, cupping her hands around her mouth like she was sharing a big secret. “I hope you marry Jack. Then you’d be my family for real!”

Jack groaned audibly, burying his face in his hands as his blush deepened to an almost impossible shade of red.

You blinked in surprise before breaking into a laugh so warm it could rival the fire inside. “Well, aren’t you the sweetest,” you said, crouching down to give her a playful boop on the nose.

“I mean it!” she insisted, giggling. “You’re the best! And Jack’s really happy when you’re here.”

“I can tell,” you replied, throwing a teasing glance at Jack, who was still hiding his face.

“Okay, okay, that’s enough,” he finally muttered, straightening up and clearing his throat. He looked at you, his eyes filled with an embarrassed but unmistakable affection. “Let’s… go inside. It’s getting cold.”

You stood and grinned, slipping your arm through his. “Aw, don’t be shy, Jack. It’s cute seeing you all flustered.”

“Stop,” he grumbled, but his tail wagged slightly, betraying his true feelings.

As the two of you walked inside, his siblings trailing behind, you leaned closer to him and whispered, “By the way, your sister has great ideas I’d love to stick around forever, too.”

Jack’s face turned red again, and you laughed, knowing you’d never get tired of teasing him—or being a part of his life.

Masterlist

[woso-dreamzzz]

Mimic IV

McFoord x Toddler!Reader

Summary: You're a little menace with Katie

"So," Caitlin asks as she relaxes back on the bed," How is my sweet baby doing?"

Katie looks away from her phone screen to see you seated in the ensuite bathroom, shaking your water bottle over the toilet paper that you've completely unwound.

"Er...she's...She's alright."

"She's being good? Nice?"

Katie can distinctly remember you throwing your breakfast at her this morning and then screeching in her face when she tried to tell you off.

"Yeah," She lies," So good and so nice."

"And she's making sure that she's including everyone in her playing?"

Katie winces when she remembers that you'd started pushing Courtney away any time that she tried to join in on the game of tag that had been arranged for you after training.

"She's...working on it?"

You're absolutely not working on it but Katie isn't about to admit that.

"Can I talk to her?"

"Yeah, one sec." Katie mutes her phone, placing it down on her blankets as she moves to grab you. "Hey, you. Come over here."

You stare blankly at her from your spot in the middle of the bathroom. The toilet paper is all strewn around you, practically wet mulch after you've emptied the contents of your water bottle onto it.

"Come on, you little gremlin. Come here."

You bum shuffle back into your pile of paper mulch and Katie winces a little, knowing that she's now going to have to change you into a different pair of pyjamas before putting you down to sleep.

"Come on. Come here."

Katie's arms are stretched outwards to you, trying to draw you closer by wiggling her fingers.

"Come on."

You pull a face at her, features all twisted up in disgust as you look at her and you grab a handful of mulch to throw. It doesn't get very far and lands with a kind of undignified squelch on the floor between the both of you.

Katie rolls her eyes. "I...You know what? Never mind."

She sweeps you up into her arms again before you can throw something at her again.

"We're going to have a talk with Mummy, alright?"

Your face noticeably changes at the mention of Caitlin, a wide gummy smile appearing on your face as you kick your legs happily. You manage to get even happier when you see Caitlin on the screen, trying to reach out for her and press kisses onto Katie's phone.

"What is it with you, huh?" Katie teases you that evening as she tucks you into your bed," Complete menace for me but Caitlin's little angel? I don't know who you think you're fooling. She already knows what you're like."

It's a bit like when you turn into a complete little angel when the rest of the family are around too. At home, you continue with your menace behaviours like chasing the cats or pushing things off countertops or digging holes in the garden for someone to accidentally trip over. But as soon as someone who doesn't usually visits, comes around it's like you're trying to show them that you're really a little sweetheart who doesn't have a mean bone in your body.

It makes Katie look particularly silly to her parents when she's complained to them about you dropping your toys into the toilet to cause a blockage but then they come around and all you seem to want is affection from them - no hint of your snapping teeth or angry little limbs.

The change in the behaviour only seems to be with family though because you have no issue with being your usual menace self with the girls on the team.

Something that Katie is acutely aware of as she watches you try to tackle Denise, trying to force her to the ground with all of your toddler strength.

"You can just tell her to stop!" Katie calls over," Or put her back on the leash!"

"It's fine!" Denise says, standing firm even as you try to shoulder barge her to the ground," It's kind of like a kitten trying to fight."

"Not a kitten!" You deny," I...I big an' scary!"

"So big and scary," Denise laughs as she pats your head," Like a little baby wildcat."

You frown as you try to work out if that's Denise calling you a kitten again just in a different way but in the end, you can't be bothered to think about it anymore as you try to push her over even harder than before.

"You might end up with bruises," Katie warns her," Just put her on the leash. I promise, it won't hurt her feelings."

"I'm fine, really." Denise waves away her concerns. "This little one isn't causing any problems."

"Are you sure?" A distinctly not-Irish says from behind Katie," Because she's got a way of starting problems before you know it."

Katie didn't even get the chance to turn away before you'd announced the newcomer.

"Mummy! Mummy! Mummy, I miss you!"

You abandon whatever you were trying to do with Denise to go toddling straight over to Caitlin, who kneels down with her arms out to welcome you.

"Mummy! Mummy!"

"Well hi there, sweet girl," Caitlin coos as you throw yourself into her arms," You're being very cuddly right now."

"Miss you, Mummy!" You reply, curling deeper into her arms and resting your head on her shoulder.

"You're early," Katie says with a warm smile," I thought you said you would barely make it to the match."

"I managed to get an earlier flight," Caitlin replies as she drops a soft kiss to your hair," I missed my girls."

[sshadow-heartz]

I Love You, I’m Sorry

•Squid Game C.AI bots here!

🤍Cho Sang-Woo x Player!Reader

🤍With one more game to go, Sang-Woo doesn’t like your odds. He loves you enough to know that you don’t need to continue suffering, taking things into his own hands…

🤍Word Count: 1.2k

🤍Tags: Angst, Murder, Slight Gore?, Glass Shard as murder weapon, Stabbing,False Hope, Betrayal

•masterlist

‼️If you are sensitive to the tagged topics, please keep scrolling!‼️

It had been a long day. After a dangerous game of glass stepping stones, you had watched player after player fall to their death. Only three of you remained - Sang-Woo, Gi-Hun and yourself.

Retreating to your bed, you looked up at the ceiling, the large piggy bank sending a soft, golden glow over the room. It had to be almost over, right? There were only three of you left, surely there were no more than two games to go.

You sighed, thinking of everything you would be able to do once winning. Pay off your debts, get a drink with your friends…

Start over.

Your thoughts were interrupted by footsteps, and you turn your gaze towards the sound. It was just Sang-Woo, you had grown to become fond of the man during your time. You had been apart of the same team, alongside Gi-Hun, Ali…

Painful memories crossed your mind, Ali was gone. He wasn’t coming back. You had to move on, no matter how tough it felt.

“Quiet in here, huh?” Sang-Woo’s voice speaks up, drawing you away from your own mind. He was stood above you, a few scrapes across his face from the glass tiles exploding. Dark eyes studied yours, his own expression unreadable. You could never tell what he was truly thinking.

“Yeah… it’s weird without everyone else here,” you shrug, the room holding a strange eeriness without the hundreds of players that once resided with you. “How many more games do you think there are?”

He stayed quiet, thinking. “One… maybe two? That’s my guess. Just a little longer and we’ll all be out of here and way richer than we ever were, too.”

You smiles, nodding at his reassurance. “Yeah, you’re right,” you nod, patting the space on your bed for him to sit down.

Taking a seat, Sang-Woo keeps his hand in his pocket, the other reaching forward to rest on your thigh. His thumb strokes your skin through the fabric of your pants, looking down at you with a slight hint of softness. “You’re coming for a drink with me and Gi-Hun, right? When we get out of here?”

“Of course,” you smile. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

Settling into comfortable silence, you allow your eyes to slip closed. You could feel Sang-Woo’s hand on your thigh, a small comfort in such a place. The two of you had grown close rapidly, you admired him. He was smart, and confident and seemed to know what he was doing. All of that lured you in, made you desperate to win his affection. He had seen you during the dalgona round, working ever so calm despite the shootings around you. He knew you would fight to survive, and he wasn’t sure if he loved you for it, or hated it.

Sang-Woo looked down at you, eyes closed and breathing steady. He couldn’t work out if you were sleeping, though it’d be best if you were…

Glancing over his shoulder, he could see Gi-Hun across the room, taking a much needed nap. He turned back to you, sliding his hand out of his pocket. He glanced down, eyeing the object he had been keeping so secretly.

A glass shard, sharp and easy enough to stab someone with. He took a breath, steadying himself and his nerves. Sang-Woo had decided you needed to go nights before, a long thought-out choice. He theorised the final game would be between the three of you, some sort of direct competition against each of you. Sang-Woo knew there could only be one winner, one player who takes the amount home.

You had become a distraction to him, his feelings overriding his logic. You were beautiful, strangely optimistic after what you had been through, and gosh, he… he loved you. He knew that if you faced against him, he would let you win. Let you walk away with the money, and a better life. No, he needed that money for himself. It’d be him and Gi-Hun. He could take down his childhood best friend, surely…

Sang-Woo leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. A sick and twisted act of love before enacting his wicked plan. He watched as your eyes fluttered open, smiling up at him as though he’s the most wonderful man in the world. He wasn’t, not that you needed to know that.

“Get some sleep,” he whispered, trying to make it easier. You wouldn’t struggle, or cry or yell. He didn’t want you to view him as a monster. In a way, he was doing something good for you. What if you suffered in the next game? What if you had to watch him die? No… that wouldn’t be an option for you. You’d have the peaceful way out, all thanks to him.

“Lay with me?” You ask, softly. It was such an innocent request, he couldn’t deny you. Laying down behind you, he wrapped an arm over your waist, pulling you against his chest. “You’re safe with me,” he lied. “Nobody will hurt you.”

Both laying in silence, legs tangled together, Sang-Woo waited for you to begin drifting off. He had to wait for the right moment, he didn’t want you to fight him on this. You wouldn’t realise it was for the good of things. His mind replayed everything you had told him. You were in severe debt, over a million won. You had nobody out there, no family, no friends. Loan sharks were waiting to get you.

It was no life for anyone. Even if you paid off your debts, you’d still be alone. There was no way you’d all make it out alive. He knew that, he wasn’t dumb. He, on the other hand, had plenty to return to. He could get himself out of debt, though his reputation would still be ruined. He could give money to his mother, have enough to live comfortably. Yes, Sang-Woo knew he needed to survive. It’d be better for him than it would be for you.

He leaned down, face nuzzled against your neck. A final moment of comfort, his arm wrapped around you tightly. He had the glass shard ready and waited, concealed in his free hand. Gi-Hun was still sleeping, nobody paying close enough attention to him or to you.

“I love you,” he whispers. “I’m sorry.”

Before your half-asleep mind can process his words, Sang-Woo digs the glass shard into your stomach. He continues to hold you close, your blood pooling on the bed. He strokes your hair, whispering soft comforts to you.

“Shh, just let it happen. Its for the best, you’ll see that.”

You cough and choke, unable to say anything as the light drains from your eyes and blood pools into your mouth. You felt pain, and nothing more than that. A white, hot blinding pain as the room began to dim. You were tired, so… so tired. It’d feel so good to close your eyes right now.

As Sang-Woo felt you go limp in his arms, a small tune played over the speakers, a voice ringing out.

“Lights out! All players must return to their beds.”

As the lights shut off, Sang-Woo closed his eyes. He took a few deep breaths to calm his shaking hands. One more game, he repeated in his mind. One more game…

[dirty-bosmer]

WIP Wednesday

First wip of 2025 :D I was tagged by so many people in November and December but haven’t been writing much, so I had nothing to share. Thank you anyway!! It’s always a pleasure to read your writing and admire your art <3

Tagged by: @thequeenofthewinter @skyrim-forever @moriche @saltymaplesyrup @lucien-lachance @theoneandonlysemla @miraakulous-cloud-district @sylvienerevarine

Tagging you all again and adding: @wispstalk @elavoria @inkysqueed @vivifriend @darcxaosit @ladytanithia @lillxart @nuwanders and anyone currently working on something they want to share :)

Scribbled most of this down on my lunch break. A snip from chapter 2 of the Lucien/Silencer filth I’ve been churning up because new year, same fixations :3

She appears at the backdoor, bone-bright, spilling in like starshine, and it awakens within him the atavistic fear to run. Void-blessed, he’s never learned how to grow toward the light, and he fights his nature to remain before her, unflinching. “Oh, it’s you,” she says. “Hi.” As if she hardly noticed his absence, and he steps closer to crowd her in against the door.  Lucien will risk her cruelty before he’ll be reduced to prey, so he lets her play these silly games in her cruel and spiteful ways, because he knows who he is even if she feigns forgetfulness. Sithis granted him strength, and her strange magic can’t erase it. Not his power, his greatness. Not the past they once shared. The fact that before they were this, he was her Speaker, and he didn’t merely save her— he tempered her. He made her, and his mouth still knows the vicious tang of her blood.  “Did you miss me?” “Were you gone?”  Twitch of a smirk that makes her dark eyes darker. It’s a vision that will haunt him into sleep. Anger or something worse herds blood faster through the vein as Lucien smiles to himself, raises a hand to her cheek, cradles her gently as he regards the beautiful shape of her skull.

[zhongrin]

i'm buzzing from coffee so here we go. sorry if i missed anyone, my memory is akin to the invertebrates sometimes. also i'm tagging people who may not even know i exist in this, so if you don't want to be tagged, no hard feelings, lmk and i can remove it ᰔᩚ

ps. this is all /pos, /lh, and /genuine with some /silly sprinkled in

@queen-belial i have 0 idea who astarion or durge is, and i have never played baldur's gate in my life. but nevertheless, know that i am always so utterly enamored at the rare crumbs of art and fics you post.

@abyssmal-skies you're one of the few people who are still into traditional art and i think it's amazing!!!

@harmonysanreads with her crazy deep in-depth character analysis proficient brain writes banger after bangers of yandere works that will make you shiver in a good way.

@brynn-lear is yet another lv.999 yandere writer, with her plot twists, unique ideas, signature art, → !!!GAMES!!! <-, and cannibalism tendencies.

@mochinon-yah with her amazing amazing art and personality as sweet as her name.

@euniveve with her series and worldbuilding and amazing arts like girl how does your brain work i need to study it.

@pranabefall who cuts open my heart and stabs far too many needles in it before sewing it back up (wow thanks, doctor) with her beautifully painful fics.

@jessamine-rose the concept of playing with dollhouses as a blog 'theme' itself is already so unique, but the worldbuilding and character building jess is doing in every fic of hers is INSANE!!!

@naraven alon oh alon.... your music. you're the toby fox in our squad in my head and i really hope one day your music will be heard by all.

and if we're speaking about beautiful proses being written to mesmerize your senses, @chryseis-lxve aka cherry does it like no other!!!!

@teabutmakeitazure serves quality dark tea for your aventurine, childe, and chrollo fixations ☕️

@dottiro is THE canon dottore writer in my head but their pantalone fics especially are so 🫶🏻🔥🩸 (interpret those emojis as you will)

@stickyspeckledlight may use whimsy and silly words in their fics but you'll look up from their works at the end of the day and go 'what the fuck /pos'.

@crystalflygeo writes delicious smut (and will occasionally break your heart *sideeyes LoHK*) and will beckon you to visit her blog more for more delicious food (perhaps pet the local deer in the process too).

@floraldresvi may not be your 'typical writer' where she posts drabbles under the 'x reader' tag, but she drops a bouquet of happiness into her friends' inbox and i respect that so much ᰔᩚ

@silentmoth if the utterly adorable moth persona didn't bait you into looking into moth's blog then you're a monster let me just say i binged moth's masterlist. it was very worth it. 20/10 would do it again.

@pawpiefawn's calming, quaint vibe doesn't deceive - it's a cozy space for wriothesley and al haitham enjoyers, but let's be real here. i think the main charm here is miss ying's personality!!!

@silkjade has a way of writing that will leave you wondering what beautiful truly means because her aesthetics sense is top-tier and it flows into the way she writes her fics ✨

@pearlywritings has super comforting and fluffy fics that makes my day and some spicy stuff that makes me go 👀 → ��� → 🤤... i don't even kiss diluc but i want to root for familyau!diluc and reader, they're SO LOVABLE.

@the-travelling-witch has a plethora of magical potions you can select from, but just be careful because the poisons are as potent as the love potions ;)

@risustravelogue may be on hiatus but will still forever be one of my favorites because time means nothing to the kinship i have over fellow devs doing art and writing ;w;

the combination of @persicipen's pastel colors and the way she writes always leaves me feel like i've just watched a grand performance at a local classical concert at the end of every fic ✨

@lovegasmic if mila's theme(s) isn't pulling you in then i am silently questioning your aesthetic sense her yummy drool-worthy smut fics will. the o■■p■s fic.... the kn■■■■■g fic.... mmm.... yes.....

no big sis? no problem! @grimmweepers is THE big sister figure and THE al haitham writer for your al haitham fixations.

@unriding if evie's personality hasn't pulled you in then you're a monster her moze musings and fics will; i don't even kiss him but she makes him look so squishy (/pos).

@euthymiya with her quality writing pumps content after content of quality dishes (and side dishes of personal rambles which i find endearing) all over my dash, it's amazing.

@saetiate if their url didn't clue you in their wit then let me ー you'll find banger genshin and hsr smutfics that will blow your mind like it did mine.

i used to associate @catcze with pink but now i just associate her with being one of the aesthetic queens bc every theme is SO pretty ー delve into her wriothesley tag, you will not be disappointed.

@xeraeus with the amazing amazing art that i always somehow miss because timezone is a bitch (jun, i still think you're secretly a wizard or something bc how do you finish commissions that fast!!!).

@danijaci needs no introduction, we all know they're an absolute madlad in drawing (/pos) and those comics + blushing series + biker series will alwasy live in our head rent-free.

i personally think a good artist can relay a story or depict an object with a few lines because it shows that they fully understand the essence of things - which is what @erabu-san does splendidly.

idk if this is allowed but can we make this ask into a post where everyone tags their favorite content creators/artists/fic writers in the fandom so that they get the recognition and love they deserve!!

let's do it!! 💖💖💖

@jojaxcola @crispyanonart @eemamminy-art @itsmeglycine @nicoleknives thank you for all your wonderful sdv art <3

[pedriache]

Hii! I love your fics I was wondering if you could do Pablo torre bf hcs thank you!!🫶🏼

Pablo Torre Boyfriend Head Canons ! ‘ oh i believe, they’re meant to be. Something, somehow, someday. ’

Bf!Pablo who . . . said the first ‘I love you.’ It was messy and accidental—he’d been wanting to do it romantically, but he had never been able to hold a secret from you. And ever since he said it, he never stopped. He said it when you were making dinner, when you were cleaning, when you were simply walking beside him. He is just so deeply and utterly in love with you.

Bf!Pablo who . . . doesn’t mind PDA. It’s not his absolute favorite thing, he likes to keep it intimate between the two of you. But, he always holds your hand in public. Sometimes he’ll kiss you too—mostly on your forehead and cheek, but it’s all you need.

Bf!Pablo who . . . does everything and anything for you. His love language is definitely acts of service. He will make you your favorite meals just because. If you break something, he’ll go and get it fixed the second he has the time outside of training and games. If you stare longingly at a pet on the street—he’s bringing you to the pet store the next day. Anything to see a smile grow on your face.

Bf!Pablo who . . . is very timid and quiet. You do a lot of the talking in the relationship. He prefers to listen to you speak since he wasn’t one to talk often, but that is not to say this boy doesn’t get his yap on. There are times he speaks so much about some random topic, it leaves you speechless. His cheeks will flush when he realizes.

“Sorry, am I rambling?”

“Yes, and I love it. Keep going!”

Bf!Pablo who . . . hates when you’re upset. The rare moments when you do argue and fight, it weighs on him heavily. He’ll practically get headaches from how much it stresses him out. Even when you are in the wrong he can’t find it in himself to stay angry with you for too long. Sure, he’ll wait until you inevitably apologize, but the second you start—well, he’s already sighing thankfully and pulling you into a hug.

Bf!Pablo who . . . adores you most ardently. He could stare at you for hours and never get sick of you. He would be content just spending every minute of every day hearing you talk about one of your new interests. He loves watching you do your makeup or do your skin care or.. well everything for that matter! In his eyes, you are perfect.

Bf!Pablo who . . . loves when you come to his games. He’ll even scan the crowd (when he knows you’ll be there) to find you before he relaxes and gets ready to play. He will make sure to lift a hand in your direction and you’ll be sure to send an air kiss his way. He will smile and shake his head, but his heart fills to the brim at the small action.

Bf!Pablo who . . . does everything to assure you are alright. If you are sick or depressed or anything that has your mood being anything but happy—he’s finding a way to change that. Whether it’s ordering your favorite snacks or bringing you home a gift basket—he’s doing it. If you want alone time, he’ll give it to you without a complaint. If you need to lay in his arms for hours, he’ll let you without hesitation. At the end of the day, you are the one that keeps him grounded so he will do the same for you.

likes, comments, and reblog’s are all appreciated. lmk if you’d like to bet tagged in any of my posts.

ᝰ.ᐟ tags @halfwayhearted @sakashq @ar4ujos @lechrts @be11ingham @joaoflms @spidybaby @piastri-fvx

[deedala]

🌨 Weekly Tag Wednesday - January Randomness 🌨

Tag gamessssss are back!! Thanks @mybrainismelted for making the game this week and thanks for tagging me!!

Name:  deanna🌱

Age: noel

What were you doing last night at 12AM?  i was asleep fuck yeah 🙌 (this is an achievement for me)

What word do you still have trouble remembering how to spell?  Brocolli.  Broccoli?  Broccolli?  That one. <- okay using Kat's because this is one for me for sure, i often cop out and justt call it brocco. but also another one is vacuum. wait did i just fuckin get that that on the first try??? never in my life......

You accidentally ate some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what’s even cooler is that they gave you the super-power of your choice! What is that power?  okay sorry to steal again but yeah teleportation!! i just think its the most useful for the most variety of things!

First thing you would buy if you won the lottery?  a house that is not falling apart!

Who is your favourite author?  i usually just say Trick Weekes because the masked empire and da:i solas remain some of my favorite shit ever written

What’s the tenth photo in your photo album on your phone? Can you explain?

yes we had a blizzard and i took a photo of our buried front yard!

What was your favourite breakfast cereal growing up? How about today?  maybe...kix?? cinnamon toast crunch?? my current fav would be honey bunches of oats with almonds but i also really loved that one as a youth too.

What outfit did you wear growing up that you’d be mortified to be seen in today? i dont know i've always been a relatively plain-style clothing person. certainly wouldnt look good in a babydoll tee, but i dont know if i'd find it mortifying 😆

and now i'll tag some folks to play along if you'd like! otherwise please take this little snowflake ❄️that i give you with love🤍

@michellemisfit @jrooc @suzy-queued @energievie @too-schoolforcool @gardenerian @lazystargazy @creepkinginc @palepinkgoat @blue-disco-lights @callivich @gallawitchxx @salesmain @gallapiech @crossmydna @spoonfulstar @echotrees @gallavich-annise @mmmichyyy @the-rat-wins @loftec @wehangout @femboymilkovich @sickness-health-all-that-shit @sgtmickeyslaughter @heymrspatel @darlingian @ian-galagher @sam-loves-seb @rereadanon @catgrassplantdad @lingy910y @spookygingerr @transmickey @vintagelacerosette @kiennilove @iansw0rld @softmick @francesrose3 @c-nord @burninface

[creepycranberry]

Big Black Car- 3

Rafe Cameron x Maybank reader

2

Warnings: slow burn, L*ke, topper is very much noncanon compliant (he’s like a mix of topper and Austin’s character in IDDI), alcohol, abuse, parental death, not proofread, kook/pogue bullshit, swearing, w*rd, let me know about anything else.

•••••••••

“Just let me get you a new one.” Topper insists and you groan.

“I don’t even swim, why do I need a swimsuit?” You argue, Tired of this conversation. Topper dragged you to a mall on the mainland after going through your wardrobe and determining that you have nothing suitable to wear to his parents wedding anniversary party.

“Because one day you might want to.” Topper says.

“I’ve gone this long without swimming, I’m sure I can make it through however long I’m staying with you.”

“Come on, I’ll teach you how to swim-“

“Topper.” You warn.

“No- no, come on. You can learn how, just for-for emergency purposes.”

“Emergency purposes.” You scoff, skimming through racks of clothing, “this one?”

“Hate the color.” He responds and you look at the dress once more and nod, “just let me get you the swimsuit and if you use it, you use it. No harm no foul, right?””

You exhale through your nose and give him a pointed look. He gives you an exaggerated pout and you concede.

“Fine.”

He pumps his fist in the air like his team just won a football game. You hold up another dress, it’s dark blue with ribbony straps, it was classic, simple.

“That one.” Topper basically decides for you, snatching it out of your hands when you go to look at the price tag.

He pays and drags you into a swimwear store, forcing you to go through the selection of bathing suits until you find a simple black two piece with enough coverage that you were confident your tits wouldn’t fall out of it.

Topper again took it from you and once again paid before you could even look at the price tag.

You liked being around him more. You haven’t really ever had an older sibling or anyone to protect you like one. JJ tried for a while but you both when to different schools and therefore your social problems felt separate. You didn’t want him to ever see you as weak. Topper was the closest thing you had to a true protector since your father died. He was your closest relationship aside from the one you had with your brother. You and JJ didn’t need to be around each other all of the time, you liked different things and people and so your lives were very separate but that didn’t make you any less close.

Topper just happened to be able to be there when you needed him and that resulted in this relationship that was very close and comfortable.

Topper had always had Rafe though. Rafe was his best friend. They knew each other in the way boys knew each other and that was that, they had an unspoken love for each other even though you would never hear them say that they loved each other.

For years Topper tried to tell you that Rafe wasn’t as bad or as rude as he came off, you obviously never believed him because why would you. Rafe had never given you any reason to believe he was anything more than he seemed.

He was an entitled prick who couldn’t care less about anyone else. He was the picture of first world problems and the apathy of the upper class.

But you found yourself second guessing that depiction of him more and more.

A few days after going shopping with Topper he’s finally managed to convince you to get into the pool so he can at least attempt to teach you how to swim. He had just managed to get you to step off of the stairs when Rafe walks through the garden gate into the backyard.

“No. I’m done, did enough for the day.” You say, moving back towards the stairs. Topper lunges after you, wrapping his arms around your middle and lifting you as you hit his arm repeatedly.

“You’re doing this.” Topper says, setting you down in the water so your feet touch the ground. The water is to your shoulders and you stare at Topper with a look that can only be described as pitiful wet kitten after a bath.

“No. Not with him here.” You argue, finally acknowledging Rafes presence.

“What is she not doing with me here?” Rafe asks and Topper sighs deeply, his hands holding onto the sides of your arms in case you attempt to escape again.

“She doesn’t-“

“Topper!” You exclaim but he puts a hand over your mouth.

“She doesn’t know how to swim so I’m trying to teach her.” Topper tells him. He shrieks when you bite down hard on his hand and dart away from him, aiming for the stairs.

You’re able to get up onto dry ground for one glorious second before strong arms are effortlessly catching you.

“Rafe! Put me down!”

He goes down the steps in the pool and sets you down in the shallow end, guarding the stairs. You expect him to make some smart remark about you not being able to swim when you live on in island, but instead he looks at you in total seriousness, his face solemn, “you need to know how to swim.”

“I’ve gotten this far-“

“Yeah, and you’re lucky you have.” He snaps, his voice raising and you flinch. You can feel your pulse quicken.

“I don’t need to hear anything about luck from you.” You shoot back and he rolls his eyes.

“Walk to Topper.” Rafe commands and you scoff.

“I don’t have to listen to you.”

“Walk to Topper and do things his way, or stay over here and we’ll do things my way.” He shrugs and you frown at him.

“I don’t need to do either, I can float just fine.”

“Yeah well, you live on an island, one bad storm and floating just fine will end up with you literally dead in the water.” Rafe retorts, his face morphing into surprise when your frown grows deeper and your hands start to shake.

You’re either about to punch him in the face or cry, and either outcome makes him incredibly wary. He automatically feels guilty when your eyes well up with tears and you fold your arms in front of yourself. You suddenly look so much smaller to him.

Topper stands still, watching your interaction unfold, prepared to either get the first aid kit or make Rafe go home.

“I don’t mean to be extreme or anything, I just don’t want you to end up hurt or worse because no one taught you how to swim.” Rafe says, surprising both you and Topper with his softness. It’s limited to his voice, his eyes are unreadable and his body language is stiff.

“Someone did teach me to swim.” You say resentfully, your voice sounds like you’re going to cry and for some reason that makes something in Rafes chest go tight, “I think I’m done for the day actually, I uh, I’m pretty tired.”

You walk past Rafe to get to the pool steps and this time he doesn’t stop you. Topper tries to grab your hand and you move at the last second. When he looks back to Rafe, he has his eyes trained on the pool in front of him, like you’re still standing there.

“You didn’t know, man-”

Before he can finish his sentence Rafe is halfway to the garden gate.

•••

Topper showers loudly. He hums in the shower, opens and closes the door loudly, he knocks over shampoo bottles like a bumbling idiot. You wake up most mornings to him humming repetitively or slamming the shower door.

You turn over in bed and face your door. The dress you had gotten for the anniversary party is hung up on it, still in its garment bag. It hadn’t been there when you went to sleep. Topper probably put it there to remind you it was today and that you had to get out of bed at some point.

You left the house for work and that was it. You didn’t want to speak to topper, and you definitely didn’t want to run into Rafe.

You were embarrassed by how you reacted. You hated that it happened so long ago and it could still affect you like this. You felt weak and in front of Topper is one thing but in front of Rafe?

You felt like seeing him again could kill you.

For the first time in days Topper dared to enter your room, he had something on his hands and ignored the face you made at him as he got closer.

“I know I fucked up, I get it, but your skin looks like a croissant.” He starts, kneeling onto the bed and holding his hands in front of your face as you tried to push him away, you couldn’t help but laugh a little, “I washed my hands, I promise.”

He’s laughing as he tries to wrestle the moisturizer onto your skin, “this is supposed to be relaxing!” He gasps and you lightly kick him in the side and he makes an odd sound before tumbling off the bed. You sit up to check on him and you can’t help but have a smile on your face, “I’m sorry. I mean it. I shouldn’t have pushed you, especially once Rafe got there I just- I want you to be safe.”

You know he’s being sincere. You don’t want to let him off the hook so easily but you can’t help it, he’s your best friend.

“Just- just no more pushing. Especially not around Rafe. I never want him seeing me cry ever again.”

“If I have to blind him I will.” Topper says, completely straight faced. You smile at him and reach to grab his wrists, pushing them into his face and rubbing your moisturizer into his skin, “okay, that’s fair.” He says before sticking his tongue out, “ith on my tongue”

He gags for a few minutes and you laugh as he runs to the bathroom to rinse his mouth out.

A few hours later you're in the passenger seat of this jeep, fiddling with the pleats on the fabric of your dress and staring out the window.

You had never really gone to the country club, you didn’t really have any reason to. Your dad used to take you when you were smaller, he would be there to see friends of his or do a business thing and you would be attached to his hip, listening quietly.

It didn’t look much different than you remembered.

Almost immediately upon arrival you and Topper are greeted by at least fifty people who know Topper's parents. When asked for your name you panic and Topper swoops in, he introduces you to various different people. But he tells them your fathers last name. Not yours.

Eventually you make it away from the crowd and find your names sat next to each other on place cards on the table. You both sit there and talk, pointedly avoiding making eye contact with anyone else so you don’t end up having to make any more small talk.

Topper looks at his phone periodically, deflecting when you ask what he’s doing. Eventually he gets up to go get drinks and you look at your phone for the first time since arriving.

JJ: have you seen Luke lately?

You furrow your eyebrows and you’re about to respond and tell him that you didn’t know where Luke was and that you didn’t really give a shit if he was dead or alive but Topper comes back and sits down.

“That was qui- Rafe.” Sitting in front of you is not Topper, Rafe sets a glass down in front of you and you eye it warily.

“It’s ginger ale, peaches.” Rafe assures you and you nod, taking a sip, “how are you?”

“Fine, thanks.” You respond and Rafe stares into the space between the two of you.

“I didn’t me-“

“Don’t. I’m not mad at you, don’t apologize cause we’ll both hate it.”

Rafe presses his lips together and takes a sip of his drink, “if you aren’t mad then why won’t you talk to me? Or look me in the eye?”

You make eye contact with him for the first time since he sat down. It’s almost a challenge, “keep looking me in the eyes and I won’t ask you any questions you don’t want to answer” And the strange thing is that you don’t want to look away. You want to sink into his eyes and never have to hear another voice again.

“You’re pretty.” He smiles, breaking eye contact so fast it almost startles you, “I like your dress.”

You blink at him for a moment, the words taking a minute to find their way to your brain, “oh uh, thank you, I like it too. You look…”

“Handsome?” He deadpans and you roll your eyes.

“Like less of an asshole than you are.” You smile and he returns it. You like how his eyes crinkle when he smiles. It makes them look shinier.

“I’ll take what I can get.” He shrugs, downing the last of his drink, “I understand why you reacted that way.”

The abrupt change from easy going conversation has you avoiding eye contact with him again, “do you?”

“Uh, yeah. I uh, we’re in similar boats in the parent department.” He clarifies, giving you a knowing look that gives way to more than you thought to know.

“Oh.” You mutter, thumb sliding across the condensation on the side of your glass, “it really is okay, I was mad I was just-“

“Embarrassed?”

“I guess. Um, I mean crying in front of Topper is one thing but I don’t think I’ll ever know you well enough t-“

“I understand. I just um, I didn’t mean to upset you or anything I don’t uh, I don’t tend to think before I do… anything.” He tells you, eyes squinting like he’s having to put in work to admit he was in the wrong.

“Really? You seem pretty purposeful to me.” You retort and he rolls his eyes, meeting yours for more than just a fleeting moment and suddenly you’re sinking into them again.

“You think so?” He smirks.

Before you can come up with some smart come back a hand is on your shoulder and you look up to see Toppers mother smiling at you, “honey, i need you to come out front we’ve got a-“

“I said I wanna see my daughter!” A slurred voice cuts through the music and chatter of the party.

You stand so quickly that your chair falls over as you try and locate the voice. You find him outside of the door yelling at the person in charge of the guest list.

“Luke.” Your stern voice cuts through his drunken tirade and he looks up.

“Hey, sweet pea! I was just trying to explain to this-” he’s interrupted by your hand gripping his arm and dragging him away from the party

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“I couldn’t find you, and I heard this was going on and that boy you’re always hanging out with was gonna be here, I connected the dots.” He shrugs.

“Leave.” You order.

“Oh, come on. You don’t mean that.”

“I do, get the hell away from here and away from me or so help me god I will-”

“You’ll what?” He laughs and his drunken affection turns right back to loathing, “what’s your prissy ass gonna do to me? I ain’t scared of you. Sitting up there in that fancy club in your fancy dress with the handsome boys in well tailored suits? Give me a break. You’ve gone full fucking kook. You didn’t even scare me before you started traipsing around with those boys. You think you scare me now?” He laughs.

“Those boys have nothing to do with any of this.”

“You think I should warn them?” He starts, stumbling slightly and leaning on a tree for support, “think I should warn those boys that you’re a whore just like your mother? That they shouldn’t hope for any long term anything with you cause you’re not worth th-”

You punch him in the face with speed you didn’t know you were capable of. He holds his nose as blood slowly starts to seep through the cracks of his fingers.

“You’re no better than her Luke. In fact you’re worse. You’re an abusive alcoholic hick who never amounted to anything and who couldn’t even care for his own children. I’m not scared of you either.”

He slaps you across the face and you can feel the blood on your cheek as the wind hits it and makes it feel cool. You barely have time to respond before Luke tries for another but the hit never lands. Instead Topper is stood in front of you, holding Luke’s wrist.

“Mr. Maybank, I think it’s time for you to go home.” Toppers mothers voice rings out behind you.

“And why should I listen to you?” Luke steps forward, wobbling slightly.

“Hey kids, how about the two of you go inside and grab something to eat, they should start serving the cake soon.”

Topper guides you back up the hill. Rafe is standing behind Mrs. Thornton, he stands beside two security guards, his gaze meeting yours for a fleeting moment before you’re quickly whisked in the direction of the country club restrooms by Topper.

He doesn’t seem to care that he’s in the ladies room as you sit on the counter. He’s gently wipes the blood off your cheek, his voice quiet as he tells you to move your head to the side so he can see it better.

“That was one hell of a hit.” He says and you shake your head.

“Stung like a bitch.”

“No I meant the punch you threw at him.” Topper clarifies and you nod.

“I hope I broke his nose.” You sigh.

“Me too, kid.”

[parasolladyansy]

We got Ingo isekai, we got Ansy isekai, and now we got Ikrik(?? Sorry if mispelled). Can we mayhaps get a Emmet isekai?

Haha, so first thing’s first: the Ansy & Ikrit who showed up in the isekai comics / doodles are not Pokéverse (DxP) Ansy & Ikrit (so don’t tag it under “DxP REWRITE” or “rewrite AU” pls lol XD)

Isekai-ed us are straight self-inserts while Pokéverse Ansy & Ikrit are more like AU versions of ourselves — they’re based on us & our experiences with the games, but live different lives (if that makes sense).

I’ve been meaning to make a comic or something distinguishing me from DxP Ansy - right off the bat, one of the biggest differences is that I have health problems that Pokéverse Ansy doesn’t have to worry about =7= (I’m sure with their advanced technology, they’d have found cures for this stuff 🥲🩵)

Oh, the funny consequences of basing your characters on yourselves XDXD

—

So, I’m not sure! In mipmoth’s original comic that inspired this AU of their AU (Hero of Bombs), they wrote in the tags that Emmet got isekai-ed to Spirit Tracks, & they’d reunite via a Linked Universe kinda scenario (if you don’t know, look it up - it’s a great crossover comic where all the Links go on an epic adventure! ⚔️🍃)

As for me, I imagined they’d just reunite back home as Ingo is just sent back much sooner than Legends Arceus, having helped Link defeat Ganondorf (me-Ansy going back home about the same time as Ikrit does, like we never left lol). We can consider Ingo’s memory of Emmet that showed up in the Spirit Temple a sort of reunion, along with whatever dreams he has of him. ^_^

On that note, I’ve been treating this Ingo more like the canon one, rather than the one my trainer is friends with & who’s featured in DxP REWRITE. I’m not sure, but that’s where I’m leaning. ouo

(EDIT: fixed some stuff & added some stuffs to help visibility ^0^)

[staryscorner]

Monster

Paring: In-ho x reader

You and In-ho have had a steady relationship. You both met at a bar and since that day he has shown you almost every side there is to him. He trusts you with every little secret of his, even how he is the “Frontman” of some sort of game. Although you don't know what type of game it is you just thought it was nothing to worry about. He's your finance. So one day he said that he was going on a work trip which he would take every once in a while. You never went to any of them since you knew it was work, but for some reason you felt like you needed to go this time.

“Hey honey, would you mind if I tag along to your work trip?”

“Um well i'm not sure dear you might get bored and want to go home” He said chuckling nervously. 

Now you definitely had to go! He never acted this weird about his work.

“Come on sweetheart it’s just a week right you always come back looking so happy I want to see what brings you so much joy.” you said pushing him to take 

“And since it’s work I can be there to cheer you on if you ever feel down you know? So that’s why you should bring me” feeling like this would make him bring you.

He did hesitate for a bit but he said you could come 

.

.

.

After packing and heading on a boat you were surprised that it was just you and him.

“Where’s everyone else?” 

“There already at the destination so no need to worry” He said grinning at you 

“But I do need to tell you something … Once we get on this island you might see me in a whole other way and I hope that you feel no different than you do now about me” In-ho said in a worried tone

You were confused but what could make you change the way you feel about him

After finally reaching the island he went to the back of the ship and took out an all black leather outfit and a black mask 

“What's with the outfit?”

He didn't say a word, he just continued to put it all on and he handed you a similar mask and outfit.

“Just follow me and don't speak to anyone once we get off”

He was almost like another person this couldn't be your In-ho he was never this cold to you, but you didn't ask since your head was spinning with questions

You entered from a pit in the mountains and had to do a lot of climbing but once you saw made it to the top it was dark lit room which looked luxurious but one he walked you to the main room your heart sank… there were people put in track suits with panicked expressions 

“In-ho WHAT IS GOING ON!” you yelled at him

“Calm down you haven't even seen what my job is” 

He got up and told the guards dressed in pink to escort the players to the first game. You just keep on thinking is this what he meant when he said game

Once everyone was escorted to what seemed to be a dry land with a robot girl, that's when the true horrors began. You saw the robot turn around and say “green light” maybe this might be nothing to worry about, it's just a kids game. Maybe his job was to entertain people. Then the robot said red light and once she turned around the people who were moving were shot and blood flew everywhere.

Now this was something that you could not unsee. You looked up to now see the man you had trusted he was smiling he looked like he could laugh any second 

“I'm leaving, I'm sorry but I can't be with you anymore after this. I know I said I wasn't going to see you differently but this was something I was expecting.

“NO WAIT YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME” He grabbed your arm aggressively and would let you go

“You know too much and I can't have you reporting this to the police just stay here and nothing will happen to you I swear” 

You were trembling “Im sorry but I just can't I swear I wont tell the police but please just let me leave” 

.

.

. 

He let go of your arm and you just ran leaving the same way you entered Once you made it out you felt a sharp and hot feeling coming from your chest as you looked down you saw blood which made you fall you turned around and saw him the man you once loved the one you thought you knew everything about … your future husband

He had tears in his eyes he tried not to look pathetic but he really was he loved you with all his heart and he had to now kill you just for a selfish reason of him not getting found out and he knew that you wouldn't say anything but he still had to do it 

“I will always love you” Those were your final words before you collapsed and had stopped breathing. He just came near you holding your cold body in his arms

Now he was truly a monster

A/n: OHH YEAAA ANOTHER ONE DONE ISTG LEE BYUNG HUN is just so FINEEEE LIKEEE!!!

I hope y'all enjoy this!!

[aventurineswife]

HAIIII

my jazz band (club) was boring bc my bestiest westie wasnt there (THEY DITCHED ME AND WENT HOME WITHOUT TELLING ME)

but anyway, u said to blow up ur inbox with requests or something, so >:3

aventurine (i think u can tell i like him with the fact i put him in every request) and any other characters u want with a reader who plays one or more instruments (this is based off me, i personally play flute, bass guitar, and cymbals, but u can pick whatever instrument(s))

maybe do a scenario where like characters didnt know reader played instruments, and character walks in on reader playing something

could u also make it romantic, please? :3

-:3 anon

Symphony of Surrender

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, March 7th x Reader, Fluff, Romance, Vulnerability, Emotional Healing, Gentle Moments, Inner Struggles, Self-Discovery, Complex Relationships.

Warnings: Minor Emotional Angst, Themes of Trauma (Aventurine's past), Slight Manipulation, Light Romance and Sweet Moments, Minor Character Introspection.

A/N: I'M SORRY WHAT?! 😭 DAMN YOUR BESTIE SHOULD'VE AT LEAST INFORMED YOU THO!!

The soft, melodious notes of a piano drifted through the luxurious, dimly-lit room. Aventurine, dressed in his usual flamboyant attire, had just returned from a late meeting. His mind buzzed with the usual mix of strategy and calculation, but something felt different tonight. The air seemed to hold an unfamiliar tranquility. Curious, he followed the sound of the piano, his footsteps light but purposeful.

As he entered the room, his eyes fell on you—sitting gracefully at the piano, your fingers dancing across the keys with a fluid elegance that struck him silent. The soft glow of the room illuminated the delicate movement of your hands, each note resonating with a raw emotion he had not expected to find in this space.

You didn’t notice him at first, completely absorbed in the music. Aventurine lingered in the doorway, watching you with an intensity he rarely allowed anyone to witness. His usual guarded demeanor faltered for a moment, the mask of charm and bravado slipping as he admired the way the music seemed to flow through you, as if it was part of your very soul.

Finally, you paused, the last note hanging in the air like a whisper. It was then that you turned to find him standing there, his usual smirk replaced with a rare, genuine expression—one of awe.

"Didn't expect to find you here," you said with a teasing smile, your hands resting on the piano keys. "I didn't know you were a fan of music."

Aventurine stepped closer, his earring catching the light. "I appreciate all forms of art," he replied, his voice a mix of amusement and sincerity. "But I must admit, I didn't expect this from you."

You chuckled softly, a playful glint in your eyes. "I guess I have a few surprises up my sleeve."

He walked around the piano, his gaze never leaving you. "I should have known. You're full of mysteries."

Your fingers hovered over the keys again, as if debating whether to continue playing. Aventurine watched you carefully, his eyes intense yet tender. He stepped behind you, leaning in just close enough that you could feel the warmth of his presence.

"I'd like to hear more," he said quietly, his voice low and almost vulnerable. The usual confidence in his words softened, revealing a hint of something deeper. "But this time... let me join you."

You hesitated for a moment, your gaze flickering to him. Then, with a small nod, you placed your hand on the keys, inviting him into this intimate moment.

As the music resumed, Aventurine found his own rhythm, not in the notes, but in the unspoken connection between you. Each sound was a step closer, each chord a bridge built between the two of you. The game of life was full of risks, but for the first time, Aventurine felt that maybe—just maybe—some risks were worth taking.

The Astral Express hummed with its usual rhythm, but inside your cozy little room, a quiet atmosphere settled. You had been practicing with your bow earlier, but tonight, something called to you—a need to express yourself differently. So, you decided to take a chance. With a deep breath, you reached for the guitar hidden in the corner of the room and began to strum, unsure of the melody that would come.

As your fingers found their way, the sound of the guitar filled the space with warmth. The soft, melancholic tune seemed to escape from you effortlessly, reflecting the longing and curiosity you often felt. You hadn’t played for anyone yet, not here, not on the train. But tonight, you needed to.

Oblivious to the quiet music, March wandered down the hallway, her camera slung over her shoulder. She had been busy capturing moments all day, and now her mind was buzzing with thoughts of her mysterious past. But then she heard it—an unfamiliar sound. She stopped, curious, her eyes wide. The soft notes of a guitar? Was it you?

March, being ever the curious spirit, couldn’t resist. She peeked around the doorframe, her heart racing with excitement and anticipation. There you were, completely absorbed in the music. Your eyes were closed, and your fingers moved across the strings as though it was second nature to you.

She took a small step forward, her breath catching in her throat. It was a side of you she hadn’t seen before. The way the music seemed to flow from your very being, the way your body swayed ever so slightly with the rhythm, captivated her.

You paused mid-strum, sensing someone’s presence, and looked up to find March standing in the doorway. A small blush crept onto her cheeks as she realized she’d been caught.

"You play," she said softly, her voice tinged with awe. "I had no idea."

You smiled warmly, setting the guitar down beside you. "Guess I’ve got a few surprises up my sleeve too."

March stepped closer, her playful grin lighting up her face. "You know, I didn’t take you for a musician."

You chuckled, a little embarrassed. "I don't often show it. Just felt like playing tonight."

Her smile softened, her usual bubbly demeanor giving way to something more earnest. "It’s beautiful," she said, her eyes shining. "You really know how to capture a moment, don’t you?"

You nodded, a bit of warmth spreading through you at her compliment. "It’s like photography, in a way. Capturing a feeling, a memory."

March’s eyes sparkled with understanding. "I get that," she said, her gaze flicking to the camera resting on her shoulder. "But with you, it’s more than just a moment. It’s... part of who you are."

Her words lingered in the air, and you felt something shift between you—something deeper than either of you had expected.

Before you could respond, March suddenly grinned mischievously. "Mind if I join you?"

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued by her sudden offer. "You play too?"

She winked. "I don't know, but I’ll give it a shot."

With that, she sat beside you, taking a seat with her camera beside her, and together, you found a new rhythm. It wasn’t just about music anymore; it was about the connection between you two, woven through each note, each laugh, and the shared understanding of a journey you were both still figuring out.

As the music played, you realized that this was more than a simple tune—it was the start of something special.

[abbysimsfun]

Get to Know Me Better

Thank you so much for the tag @itmeansiris!

Last Song: "Do You Believe In Magic" by The Lovin Spoonful wakes me up most mornings and did today. It's just a bop that says 'Get up, smile or something, and dance a bit after coffee.'

Favorite Color: I don't have one! I have colours I don't like (that awful greenish-brown hair colour from Sims 3 for one and there doesn't need to be so many shades of black in my opinion), but the world is better in multicolour!

(Yes, I DO cry when I watch those 'got my dad glasses to see colour for the first time!' vids and these 60-year-old gruff men realize how beautiful colours truly are.)

Last Movie: We watched a bunch of movies over Christmas - Remember the Night, Edward Scissorhands, Wizard of Oz. Remember the Night was the only one I hadn't seen before but I love Jimmy Stewart and I'll watch him in anything - even Vertigo, despite the fact Kim Novak's acting gives me hives.

Last Book: simblr counts, so your story was the last! Yes, you reading this!) But last actual book I read was Spell Ya Later by Zoe Shae and the final draft of my own second novel (which I may never release, we shall see but releasing your own book ain't cheap) before I sent it to an editor!

Sweet, Spicy or Savory: mmmm... umami (so basically all!) but I have moods for sweet and savoury fairly often. Spicy I don't crave but I like it!

Last Thing I Googled: "Who owns Etsy?" (Black Rock and Vanguard wheee!)

Current Obsession: simblr and the story I'm playing and writing that's become very inspired by simblr!!

Looking Forward To: playing with ballerinas the next time I load up the game, hopefully!!

I tag: @hashimasims @changingplumbob @matchalovertrait @purplesimmer455 @oimygiblets @hellgirl-ix @strawberriesnpopmusic @simscici @dreamyyesenia @simmora and anyone else who wants to do this one! Ignore if you like, and if you're not tagged and want to, I'm tagging you anyway. I'm such an awkward bean about tags. 🤦

[gxldencity]

I was gonna put this on the tags lmao but u know what I'll drop it here.

One of my most popular posts on this site is telling the da fandom not to fancast any random brown man for dorian bc he is south asian coded but I've come to really hate that post for a number of reasons but mainly, it's not my job to supplement the devs when they basically did no South Asian coding for Dorian Pavus and his family. If you don't follow the devs or don't read through datamined files, then you wouldn't know. You could fancast him with a Latino actor and it would still fit based on just what you know from the game. Like...they didn't even do the most basic of coding by making the Alexius family be South Asian coded as well so at least Dorian and Halward aren't the only South Asians in all of Thedas.

I also have mixed feelings about Dorian these days bc yeah he is written by a guy who said they didn't think of Asians in thedas (and never apologized for that statement and even doubled down and told us we read it wrong when we called him out. Gaider ur explanation that they just come from a different continent doesn't make any of this shit better when ur most personal character is south asian coded!!!) Like I can't really support any readings of Dorian in terms of being a queer brown person with a conservative family bc his South Asian coding wasnt there and he's written by Gaider who said all of that. There are other stories written by brown queer people struggling with their conservative families who are purposeful with their intent. Dorian is half assed in comparison.

to the people who tagged that asian dellamortes post with “i thought lucanis was asian because of his eyes” firstly me too and before i even read the art book LOL because if i reach then he kind of looks like he has double eyelids but secondly i believe that was copium. if the designers ever come out and say “the dellamortes were always meant to be partially/half asian” then we should kill them because there is nothing that implies any kind of korean or asian coding. i think there is a clear and total failure in character design and writing if you present a character who is white passing and fail to address the fact that their quote unquote culture means something to them and the writing treats them like they’re (only) italian or spanish. like i think if he actually was supposed to be asian he would have mentioned literally any korean dish. while we’re here i kind of would have liked more references to worldbuilding for bellara (and cyrian) who has a hairpin (a cultural thing not seen before in thedas! but from where?) or irelin who has an accent which literally implies she is not from thedas or that she at least speaks another language. same goes for neve and dorian but i also would have had mixed feelings about south asian aesthetics pinned onto thedas’ proxy for the roman empire that is also filled with slavery. like i don’t think it’s gotta be one-to-one with coding especially with a world that is as broad as thedas but it is kind of crazy that a previous head writer said “idk. i guess there are just no asians on the continent. don’t ask me again” and then it was like hmmm actually the pavus family seem to be the only asians on the continent and then suddenly veilguard goes “HEY WE’VE HAD ASIAN PEOPLE THE WHOLE TIME!”