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[shawnlenore]

10 YEARS! I'VE BEEN MAKING HOW TO BE A WEREWOLF FOR 10 YEARS! Thank you to everyone who's followed me over this freaking decade, whether you showed up yesterday or found me on Tumblr in 2015. If you'd like to celebrate with me, please tell your friends about my little comic! howtobeawerewolf.com

I started making HTBAW after I was burnt out from college and the recession and grief. I had barely drawn a thing in five years and I thought I would give up art forever and move on to an office job. I wanted to give it one last shot. I came up with the premise while walking the dog lol

I had lost a lot of my love for drawing after scrambling my personal drawing preferences to try and fit into the animation industry at the time, and I think after a decade, I've finally hit a stride that I'm really proud of. I've leveled up a little more every year! My goal all along was to have a medium for my love of storytelling. I wanted to be able to prove to myself that I was good at telling stories, because I had always really enjoyed writing and creating characters, but never had an opportunity to do it on a large scale. So uh, I made an opportunity?

If you want to see the comic that inspired HTBAW that I made way back in 2014, check below the cut! Also please share this to help spread my little 10 year celebration :D

Anyway, if you want to see how far I've come since the original comic I made that turned into HTBAW, the progress between 2014 and my 1 year anniversary in 2016 was pretty huge lol

[xxsteveharringtonxx]

Adjustments

Eddie Munson x Reader

It hadn’t taken you long to adjust to having Eddie around.

Steve, Robin and yourself had formed a comfortable friendship, it was easy, peaceful and despite everything you all went through you melded back into reality once again.

Except this time, Eddie Munson melded too.

Right as if he’d been there the entire time.

For the last two years his loud and unapologetic presence had become a normality in your life, and the two of you couldn’t be more different.

He had the same cautious prejudgments of you from High School, and having ran in the same crowd as Steve for a while, you couldn’t exactly blame him for his weariness around you at the start.

But High School was a long time ago.

Well it felt like a long time ago.

While Eddie was all leather jackets, heavy boots and loud music, you were somewhat shyer than when you were younger and more reserved now. Not wanting the attention anywhere near you, a quiet life in the shadows was exactly what you preferred now.

And it took Eddie a while to get used to you too.

He wasn’t sure why you were so quiet around him to begin with, it put him on edge but as time went on he realised actually that’s just how you are, and he’s more than happy to speak for the both of you, often spending time together in the group you would rarely get a word in between him and Robin.

It was a nice balance and having him around to be the loud outspoken one was a comfort.

And you grew to love it.

And him.

It was funny because you weren’t even aware of your feelings until Robin pointed them out, Steve catching on to her words too.

“Oh shit honey, I actually see it.” He had informed, realisation dawning on you.

While that was about a year ago now and while Steve and Robin loved to tease you about it, you obviously weren’t going to actually do or say anything about it.

He probably still thought you were preppy and stuck up like back at school.

Which bought you to now, present time and currently stuck on the side of the road just outside of Hawkins and glaring at your car.

It was smoking a little and you tilted your head in thought as to whether it was a real issue or if you could just wait it out, but considering it had broken down, and was literally smoking you concluded it probably was a real problem.

Looking around you spotted a phone booth just down the hill so with a huff and eye roll you headed over. This really wasn’t what you needed after the day you had just had. All you wanted to do was go home and watch some movies, maybe hang out with Steve or the whole gang.

Sighing heavily at your evening plans dwindling away you dialled the number you knew by heart.

And it only rang twice before you heard him.

“Yeah hello?” He barked down the line and despite the gruffness in his tone his voice made you smile.

Actually it made you grin.

“Hey Eddie it’s me.” You announced and there a bit of a scuffle on the line before you heard him more clearly.

“Hey Pretty, what’s up?” Blushing at the nickname he had called you which he’d given you years back, having probably forgotten your actual name at the time, but for some reason it stuck.

“I kind of broke down, well my car definitely did.” You told him cringing at your own sad tone.

“Broke down? Where?” He asked worry woven into his tone and the burst of excitement you felt seemed odd at a time of crisis like this.

But he really sounded like he was worried, biting down on your bottom lip to stop the smile you hummed trying to think of where you were.

“Just on the way into Hawkins I guess, as if you’re heading to Hoppers cabin before town.” You heard him clutch some keys on the other end of the line before barking orders at you.

“Don’t move and stay in your car.” He instructed.

“Eddie! No it’s smoking I don’t want-“ he cut you off with an impatient sigh and a firmer tone.

“Get your pretty ass in the car Y/N and stay there until I find you. I’m on my way.” And then the dial tone.

Following his instructions you did as you were told trudging back to your car. Sighing heavily as you say patiently in the drivers seat.

You could be home by now.

Out of your stupid dress and makeup wiped off.

But then maybe ten or fifteen minutes later you saw Eddie, he was in Wayne’s tow truck and you could make out his navy overalls were a little smudged with oil but he gave you a grin and sarcastic wave through the windshield.

He jumped out and you rolled your window down to pout up at him.

“Need a hand?” He asked teasingly poking his head through.

With a playful eye roll you turned to him with pursed lips to really show your sadness at the situation, but instead goosebumps prickled at your arms at the closeness of the two of you. The freckle on his nose visible to you he was so close, but he cleared his throat before standing up and opening your door.

He about melted at the sight of you pushing your bottom lip out, yours eyes looking up at him for saving.

And saving he could do for you.

“I think she’s dead.” You told him and he gave you a sad smile.

“I can fix her, come on go get in the truck there’s AC in there.” He told you helping you out the car and up the step to the truck.

He licked his lips as he took you in, bare tanned legs in front of him as you climbed up, a baby blue summer dress and white little heeled shoes. Not your usual attire these days and it reminded him of High School.

Remembering only then that you had mentioned a lunch at your grandmas house a few towns over.

He made a mental note to ask you about it.

Seeing your patents wasn’t something you usually ever wanted to do.

You watched as he popped open the hood of your car took a look around, tried a few things and then tried to start her up but nothing came of it. But no matter what he tried within 30 minutes he had latched her up to the tow and joined you in the truck.

“I’ll take her to the shop, Wayne can have a look. He usually figures out what’s wrong pretty quick.” His tone was easy and you nodded at him suddenly aware that the two of you would be spending time together alone.

There was rarely an occasion you’d hung out without Steve or Robin also present. And even if you weren’t used to it there was still a comfortable warmth around you. You felt safe and it was easy being in his presence.

“Thanks Eddie.” You told him with a sweet smile, head lolling to the side to look at him, tugging your dress down when you noticed it had crumpled higher than usual.

Eddie’s eyes flicking down at your movement before focusing back on the road.

“It’s my job.” He fobbed off with a chuckle and you frowned.

“I didn’t call you because you’re a mechanic or anything, I called you because well you’re you and I knew you could help me.” Your words made his cheeks go a little pink, he huffed out some air from his nose before beaming over at you.

A proud glimmer in his eye.

“Well aren’t you a little charmer today.” And it was your turn to blush because as he said he reached his hand over from the stick to squeeze your knee.

But after driving back to the shop in peaceful silence, Eddie’s music playing from the radio keeping a comfort, you finally pulled up outside the garage and followed Eddie to the office where Wayne was sat.

“Uncle Wayne, we got a case of an over heated cooling unit and low battery.” Eddie diagnosed as Wayne looked up giving you a friendly smile.

“We’ll get her fixed right up girly.” Wayne reassured making you roll your lips into your mouth at the expensive sounding issues. “Don’t you worry about nothing.” He barked in a tone sounding familiar to his nephew’s and you saw where Eddie got his kindness from.

“Thanks Wayne but I can talk to my dad-“ you started to try and offer but he gave you a stern look. Probably knowing first hand what an asshole your father is.

“Take her home Eddie.” Were his next words as Eddie began ushering you out to his van, one hand on your lower back and the other grabbing his keys off the hook at the door.

“Wanna go grab some burgers?” He asked as you put your seatbelt on.

“From Benny’s?” You perked up in excitement making him chuckle with a sideways glance at you.

“Yeah from Benny’s, what they didn’t feed you at your grandmothers lunch?” He teased trying to broach the subject and still be a little light hearted but you groaned and closed your eyes.

“It’s not polite to over fill your plate or eat more than two quarters of a sandwich.” You informed him and then looked over. “Apparently it’s not lady like.” You added.

Your parents were from the same cut as the Harringtons, it’s how you and Steve became friends. Forced to sit in boring itchy outfits at the country club every Saturday and Sunday as your parents paraded you around like trophies.

It’s also why you live in a studio above the coffee shop on the high street and why Steve lives in a one bed two buildings down. Neither of you having much of a relationship left with your parents.

“It’s not polite to go hungry either, besides that little dress makes you plenty lady like.” His tone was flirtatious and you knew he was trying to cheer you up while making fun of you.

“And don’t worry I’ll even get you a milkshake so I know you’ve been fed through the night.” Grinning at his words you looked over at him excited for the evening again.

“I love Benny’s.” Was all you managed to say.

“I know Pretty, that’s why I’m taking you to Benny’s.” He assured as if it was obvious but you didn’t think he paid that much attention to you, until now. And pulling into the parking lot he was happy to be with you.

Just you.

Not that he was brave enough to say that out loud.

Once you had both eaten and you were picking at his left over fries you hummed content. The conversation about Robin’s new love interest, or Steve’s latest dating disaster had died down and you had just been laughing at a story he was telling from his gig last weekend, you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face.

“We should do this more often.” You told him bravely, dropping the fry and leaning closer by resting your chin on your hand.

“We practically live in Benny’s.” Was his blazè response as he watched you gulp and nod slowly, realising maybe you had meant more than just the diner.

“Sure but I mean just me and you. We should hang out more often, without Steve or Robin.” You said it so quickly he barely had time to recover but he’d caught your every word.

And he knew he had to think quickly before you took it back or changed your mind.

“Just me and you?” He echoed as if seeing what it sounded like on his tongue as well as getting confirmation before he got too nervous to bring it up again himself later.

“Yes Eddie, just me and you. I had fun with you this afternoon. It’s nice.” You looked away from him and down at the fries, your confidence fading. He took in how your cheeks were reddening and the tip of your ears were on fire.

“Steve and Robin are pretty annoying.” You laughed out loud at his response, and his way of making you laugh even in moments like this made your chest hurt.

You almost thought that was him rejecting you, softly and kindly.

But rejection nonetheless.

But when your hand reached over for the last fry he grabbed it gently with his own, placing the softest of kisses on the top.

You watched intently, lips rolled into your mouth trying to suppress a relieved grin.

“Just me and you huh?” He teased harmlessly and grinning at you like he’d just won the lottery.

“I like the sound of that.” He hummed happily.

[ateezscupid]

─── FEB FILTH FEST: Into It - HUMILIATION ♡

SUMMARY / A one night stand with your favorite idol, and he ensures you're ashamed.

warnings ✩ SMUT, A LOT OF ANGST AT THE END, DOM/SUB dynamics, soft (but mean)!dom yunho, sub!reader, fem!reader, humiliation & degradation, unestablished relationship, unprotected sex, idol!au, idol x fan, there's a mirror above the bed

word count ✩ 2,07k

tags ✩ @desirehorizon @tangerineastronaut @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @starillusion13 @mingitheskzstan @bbdeongi @dawn-iscozy @xh01bri @mallielovssyou @clxssy1997 @soreberry @nopension @kitten4sannie @faeriehwas @lustfxq @ashistrashhhhhh

ATEEZ MASTERLIST / REQUEST / FEB FILTH FEST

"Such a pretty little thing." Yunho whispers in your ear, tightening his grasp around your neck as his hips grind into yours.

"Oh my god," you moaned, trying to ignore the way your body responded to his touch. "D-Don't stop,"

"I won't." He said with a smirk, pulling away from your embrace. "But only because I know you'll come back for more, begging like the desperate fan you are." He pushed you down, pushing you into the pillow beneath you and keeping your hips raised.

You felt your cheeks burn with a mix of arousal and embarrassment. His words cut deeper than you'd care to admit, but you couldn't deny the thrill of his dominance. He was your favorite idol, after all, and the way he was treating you only added to the fantasy. You bit your lip, trying to maintain some semblance of dignity, but your body betrayed you as it quivered under his touch.

"Sleeping with a man you don't know -- and probably fingered yourself to before. Am I right?" Yunho's voice was a mix of mockery and satisfaction as he watched you squirm beneath him, his middle finger and ring finger brushing against your swollen clit with the same carelessness as someone swatting a fly.

Your eyes widened, and your body froze. The way he talked about you, reducing you to a mere fan girl with no self-respect, hit a nerve. But instead of pushing him away or speaking up, your body responded with a gush of wetness, soaking the sheets beneath you. You felt a wave of shame wash over you, but your hips bucked against his hand, silently asking for more.

"Did you just squirt-?" He interrupted your thoughts, a cruel chuckle escaping his lips as he felt the warmth seep through the fabric of his blankets. He didn't bother to hide his amusement as he removed his hand, holding it up for you to see. "You really are a desperate little slut, aren't you?" His smirk grew wider as he brought his hand back down, wiping the glistening evidence of your arousal across your flushed cheek.

"I-I'm not a slut…" you whimper, relaxing into his bed even more when his hand touched your cheek.

"What kind of girl sleeps with a man she doesn't even know?" he whispers, running his fingers through your hair. "So quick to get me into your pants."

You try to protest, but your voice is lost in the pillow as his hand covers your mouth. "Shh, let's not lie to ourselves, darling. You're here because you want this. You want to say you fucked your favorite idol. That's all."

He moves down to kiss your neck, his teeth grazing your skin. "But you're so eager, aren't you?" he whispers, his breath hot and smelling faintly of whiskey. "I can feel it." He takes his hand away.

He pulled out of you and flipped you over, spreading your legs. "Look at yourself," he said, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look in the mirror at the reflection of your flushed face and your swollen, used body. "This is what you do to yourself when you're desperate for attention."

The humiliation grew as he continued to degrade you, his words like knives slicing through your soul. But his touch remained masterful, his hands and mouth leaving trails of fire wherever they went. You felt yourself getting wetter, your body betraying the emotional turmoil you were in. You hated the way he talked to you, but the way he made you feel was undeniable.

He pushed himself back inside of you, his eyes never leaving yours in the mirror. Each thrust was accompanied by a cruel whisper in your ear, "You're just a groupie, aren't you? A pathetic, lonely fan who'll do anything for a taste of their idol." His words stung, but the feeling of him filling you up was too intense to resist. You moaned against his palm, your eyes welling up with tears that you couldn't hold back.

"Don't cry, baby." he kissed your cheek, his voice still laced with sarcasm. "You're just a fan who got lucky. You should be thanking me." He began to thrust harder, his movements punctuating his words. "Tell me, how does it feel to be used by your favorite idol?"

All you did was moan as he continued, his grip on your chin tightening. Your eyes remained glued to the mirror, watching the reflection of your own body, which seemed to be a complete stranger's. Each thrust brought a fresh wave of pleasure, mixing with the sting of his words. He was right, you were a fan, you were desperate, and you were using him just as much as he was using you.

"Answer me when I ask you a question," he slowed the pace of his hips, moving closer to your ear. "Does it feel good?" Yunho whispers in your ear as your nails claw into his back, the slow strokes of his hips sending waves of pleasure through your body. You nod, breathlessly, eyes squeezed shut. You had never expected to end up here, in a hotel room with the man whose face had adorned your walls for years.

The room is dimly lit, the faint scent of his cologne mingling with the stale hotel air. His hand slides up to your throat, his grip firm but gentle. "Do you think about me when you're with others?" The question hangs in the air, a challenge. You swallow hard, feeling the heat of his breath against your skin.

"Y-Yes," you stutter, the confession forced out by the intensity of his gaze. Yunho's eyes darken, a smirk playing on his lips as he leans in closer.

"Say it," he commands, his voice a seductive purr that sends a shiver down your spine.

You hesitate for a moment, the weight of his hand on your throat both thrilling and terrifying. Then, with a tremble in your voice, you admit, "I think about you."

"And you don't even know me," Yunho says, his tone mocking.

"Shut up-"

"Why? Imagine what your friends would think when they find out you'd sleep with any and everyone." The smirk on his face widens as he watches you squirm beneath him. Your cheeks flush with embarrassment, and you try to push him away, but his grip tightens slightly, a silent reminder of who's in control.

He starts to speed up his hips, the pleasure now laced with a hint of pain from your nails digging in too deep. You want to scream, but the words get caught in your throat as he continues to make you admit your desperation. "Tell me," he says, "How many posters of me do you have at home?"

Your eyes fly open to meet his, and you feel a flicker of anger. You're not just some groupie to him, a mere object of his conquest. You're a person with feelings, with a life outside of this hotel room. "Why does it matter?" you ask, trying to push his hand away from your throat.

He smirks and shrugs. "It's just a little fun. You're not actually into me, are you?"

You bite your lip to keep from saying something you might regret later. "It's more than fun for me," you murmur, hoping he'd stop his taunts.

Yunho's expression softens for a fraction of a second before it hardens again. "I don't do relationships," he says bluntly, his eyes searching yours for a reaction. The realization hits you like a slap in the face, cold and sharp. He's not looking for a meaningful connection; he's just playing a game with you.

"Then why the hell were you moaning in my ear telling me you loved me and you loved my body-?!"

"I was just playing along," Yunho says with a chuckle, his grip on your throat loosening as he starts to move away from you. You can feel the mattress shift beneath his weight, and the sudden coldness where his body used to be leaves you feeling more exposed than ever. "You seemed to like it."

You scoot away from him, pulling the sheets around you. "I don't understand." You say, your voice small and trembling.

Yunho laughs, the sound echoing in the quiet hotel room. "What's not to understand?" He says, leaning back on his elbows, his erection still standing proudly. "You're just another notch on my belt, and you're acting like this is something special."

You gulp and use the blanket to cover your naked body, feeling tears beginning to fall down your cheeks. The weight of his words is like a punch to the stomach. You had allowed yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, this could have meant something to him too. But now, the harsh reality slaps you in the face, leaving you feeling more alone than ever.

"Fine." you sniffle, wiping your tears and scooting out of bed. You stumble around the room, looking for your discarded clothes. The carpet is cold against your bare feet, and you can't help but feel like a used toy, tossed aside after he's had his fun.

Yunho watches you, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Where are you going, love?"

You grab your panties, pulling them on with shaking hands. "Home," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

Yunho sits up, his eyes following your movements with a mix of amusement and something else - perhaps a hint of boredom. "So soon?" He says, his tone mocking. "But we were just getting started."

You start putting on your underwear and clothes, ignoring him. The room feels colder than ever, the heat from your passionate encounter dissipating rapidly. Each item of clothing feels like a layer of protection from his harsh reality.

"You're going to leave me like that?" He asks, his tone now playful. "After all the fun we've had?"

You still ignore him, looking around for your shoes. You feel a twinge of anger at his callousness, but also a deep sense of humiliation for letting yourself get caught up in this mess. "I shouldn't have come here," you murmur to yourself, trying to hold back the tears that threaten to fall.

As you bend down to pick up your shoe, you feel his hand on your shoulder, his grip firm but gentle. "Hey," he says, his tone softer than before. "Don't go yet. I didn't mean to be so harsh."

"Don't touch me." You spun around, slapping his hand away. The pain from his earlier grip still lingered on your neck, a constant reminder of his dominance. You didn't want his gentle touch now; it felt like a slap in the face after his cruel words.

Yunho's smile faded, replaced by a look of mild surprise. He sat up, letting the blanket fall to his waist. "Look, I didn't mean to hurt you." His voice was soothing, but you could see the challenge in his eyes, daring you to argue.

"What did you expect?" You spat back, trying to keep your voice steady. "You treat me like some disposable fangirl and now you want to cuddle?"

"I didn't mean it like that," he said, reaching out for you again. This time, you stepped back, out of his reach. The room was a battleground of emotions, your heart racing as you tried to figure out what to do next.

"I'm leaving. Delete my number." You manage to say with as much dignity as you can muster, your voice shaking.

Yunho's expression turns serious as he watches you pull on the rest of your clothes. He doesn't argue, just nods slightly. "I'll walk you out."

"No." You say firmly, your voice stronger than you feel. "I can find my own way out."

Yunho's eyes narrow, his grip on the blanket tightening. "Suit yourself." He says, his tone clipped.

You nod, feeling the tears threaten to spill over again. As you turn to leave, you can't help but cast one last look at him. He's sitting on the bed, the picture of nonchalance, his bare chest rising and falling with each breath. It's a stark contrast to the tumult of emotions you're feeling. You want to scream, to throw something, to do anything to make him feel a fraction of the pain he's caused you. But instead, you force yourself to walk to the door, each step feeling heavier than the last.

[mj-iza-writer]

Whumpee sighed and rolled their eyes as Whumper's friends commanded them to sit. They half-heartedly sat down. Sloppily, the way they knew Whumper hated, but these idiots weren't Whumper.

"No, do it like you're supposed to", one of them crossed their arms, "what was Whumper's command."

Whumpee shrugged their shoulders. They weren't going to talk regardless, not without permission, but they had zero plans on helping these fools with that freaken command anyways.

"It was sit something", a friend thought out loud.

One of the friends got down into Whumpee's face.

"You know what we are asking you to do, so do it already", they spoke gruffly, "I'll tell Whumper you're misbehaving."

Whumpee sat like a statue, looking straight ahead, not bothering to make eye contact.

"Whumper, I think your pet is broken. They won't listen to us", friend D complained.

"What is your command where they sit really nicely?", friends B called.

Whumper came out of the kitchen carrying drinks.

"Whumpee, sit pretty for me", Whumper commanded while passing the drinks to their friends.

Whumpee adjusted how they sat to be more straightened. They puffed out their chest, pulled their knees up, and placed their hands on the floor, palms down. This pose was extremely uncomfortable and took forever to learn. Not from Whumpee being difficult, but their body not liking the stress position.

"That is one of their special commands, meaning I'm the only one they have to listen to for it", Whumper sat down, "Whumpee release."

Whumpee released with a gasp of relief, and sat down their normal way, the way Whumper wanted.

"It's a stress pose and shouldn't be used for a long period of time", Whumper smiled at their pet, "that's why only I can give it to them, so they don't get injured."

Whumpee sighed in relief that Whumper made it clear that Whumpee only needed to listen to them.

"Why do you care if they are comfortable?", friend A kicked at Whumpee playfully, "the little fucker shouldn't be treated so well."

"They're a pet. You wouldn't treat your dog so poorly. Whumpee is no different to me", Whumper frowned, "it takes a while to learn these tricks. Mostly because their body needs to be trained to do it. It would waste the time I've spent on training them if I broke them. You all know I don't like wasting time."

"What's another special trick they know", friend B asked.

"Whumpee", Whumper waited for them to look up. They made their hands into the shape of a gun and pointed it at Whumpee, "bang."

Whumpee dramatically fell to the floor and closed their eyes. They pushed their tongue out of their mouth as a finishing touch.

"Good job Whumpee", Whumper laughed.

His friends also joined in and laughed.

Whumpee popped their head up and looked at Whumper for another command.

"What's your favorite trick?", Whumper looked at Whumpee happily.

That was sneakily a command for Whumpee.

Whumpee got up and crawled away and laid down on their dog bed.

"Wh... what did they just do?", friend A frowned.

"It's a sneaky trick to tell them to go relax", Whumper grinned, "it's just funny to watch them crawl away after asking what their favorite trick is. The command combines bed and at ease."

"Whumpee, do you want a slice of pizza?", Whumper set their plate on their lap.

Whumpee looked up and nodded.

"Come here, I grabbed an extra slice", Whumper grinned.

Whumpee quickly got off of their bed and crawled to Whumper.

"Sit", Whumper waited until Whumpee was right in front of them, "good Whumpee."

Whumpee sat excitedly and looked at the pizza.

"Here, don't make a mess please", Whumper handed them the plate.

Whumpee excitedly grabbed at the pizza and took their first bite.

"What food do they eat normally?", one friend watched curiously.

"Normal human food. I'm not a monster. They need to eat food that gives their body nutrients", Whumper watched Whumpee, "normally it's a strict diet. That's how I eat, so it only makes sense to feed them like that as well. They occasionally get a treat though."

Whumpee licked their fingers happily after their last bite. They looked at Whumper, then at their hands.

"You may have another slice if you like", Whumper stood, "but you won't get any more food tonight. Two slices will definitely be enough for your dinner."

Whumpee quickly nodded, and happily crawled behind Whumper as they went into the kitchen.

"Here you go", Whumper handed them a big slice, then patted their head, "my friends will gone in a little while, then we can relax."

Whumpee looked happily at the slice as Whumper talked.

"I may even allow you to eat a cookie tonight", Whumper chuckled, "how does that sound?"

"It sounds good Master", Whumpee giggled.

"Did that thing just talk?", all of the friends yelled.

"Yes, Whumpee can speak. I just don't think they like you guys. They talk to my other friends just fine", Whumper yelled out the kitchen, "my other friends don't call them mean names though or kick them."

"Oh, come on", the friends poured into the kitchen, "make them talk again."

"Whumpee, what's your favorite trick", Whumper turned to grab a drink from the counter.

Whumpee placed their half eaten slice of pizza in their mouth and crawled between the groups legs and to their bed.

"Oh, come on", they complained dramatically.

Whumpee giggled as they sat in their bed and ate.

Whumper came out and sat down.

"I can't get them to do anything", they jokingly sighed, "such a bad pet."

"You're a liar", their friends stared longingly at Whumpee.

"Speak", one of them commanded.

"That's not the command", Whumper laughed loudly.

Their friends turned to glare at Whumper.

Whumper shrugged.

"Should have been nicer to them", Whumper sighed playfully, "maybe next time."

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all.

@weirdthingweee @the-beasts-have-arrived

@sacredwrath @porschethemermaid

@monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz

@bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13

@notpeppermint @cyborg0109

@idontreallyexistyet @painfulplots

@whumpbump @everythingsscary

@skittles-the-whumpee @expressionless-fr

@theforeverdyingperson @legendarydelusiongoatee

@candleshopmenace @whumpanthems

@lavndvrr @ivymyers

@starfields08000 @a-living-canvas

@lumpofsand @watermeezer

@indigoviolet311 @whumpy-mountains

@risk606 @electrons2006

@paperprinxe @whumprince

@kaz-of-crows @mis-graves

@decaffeinatedtimetraveler94 @sausages-things

@isikedmyself878 @daffyduckcommittedtaxfraud

@valravnthefrenchie @glennemerald

@jasperthecapser @does-directions

@jumpywhumpywriter @blackbirdsinatrenchcoat

@mylifeisonthebookshelf @thenormalestever

@whatwhump @galatic-worm

@starmoon-constellation @bacillusinfection

[jweekgoji]

I just read your d-16 obsessed with famous reader and was kind of curious to think about what he would do when he became megatron like almost yandere obsessive

anyways… ily!!

Yandere!Megatron/Idol!Reader [TFO]

tw: yandere themes, obsession, possesive thoughts. word count: ~1,7k additional: gender-neutral!reader, ex-racer!reader, decepticon!reader. a/n: I did something similar before, you can read here if you want. however I would focus on different scenario here and mostly on exploring dynamic through inner feelings (if that makes sense). i think i wrote about more violent Megs before, so i wanted to write a bit softy one.

Pretty little thing.

Always on a pedestal, standing at the centre of attention, you rarely had to think about any problems. You were always surrounded by someone who would surely worry about it and solve everything at the flick of your wrist. The only thing that was needed was to just innocently clap your optics and enlighten the rest of the crowd with your beauty.

It's hard not to get used to it.

From the moment he saw you, you were amazing. No, perfect.

It seemed like every time he watched you from afar, he was looking at the brightest star in far, far away space. No matter how far away he stood, you always shined brightest for him.

Surrounded by a crowd of fans that never gave you a moment's peace, like satellites, you always stood out in the crowd. Everything in this tiny, cramped world revolved around you.

There was nothing in D-16 that could ever catch your attention, if only for a second.

And yet, he was happy. Never having seen the real beauty of the outside world, deprived of freedom since birth, at some point you always made him feel surrounded in a field of stars.

If it was safe on the surface of Cybertron again, he would surely spend cycles watching the vast sky dotted with colourful, bright lights.

‘It's not the right place for you to be,’ he would remind you every time he gets the chance of.

Away from Iacon, albeit rotten in the filth that was left behind by Sentinel the false Prime, he couldn't deny that there, you would be much safer.

Away from Iacon, you were lost. You never seemed to belong in the company of the former High Guard. Being silver spoon fed since the moment of your creation made you more naive and so painfully obvious to everyone around. It is a miracle, that there were still someone who looked after you, even though your silly little title doesn't mean here anything anymore.

He must have hated you, you would have thought. Unlike all those who joined the Decepticon resistance, everyone here was united in their hatred for the former reign of long-abandoned leader of the Iacon. Numerous attempts to hunt down, then exterminate every last one of them, only to hide the truth will forever be remembered by those whom Sentinel Prime deemed a threat to his rule.

In turn, what really united you with the idea of the Decepticons?

Did you feel as if you had been betrayed? Were born into this world only to exist meaninglessly in the depths of of your home planet, furnished for a slow, faithless death?

Something in Megatron's gaze drew you in. It was hard to tell if it was that bloodthirsty determination to free your city from the captivity of tyranny, or that look of despair and bitterness as the newly elected Prime banished him from his own city?

Either way, you followed him that day, much to the surprise of the Decepticon leader himself.

You glanced in Megatron's direction. Battered, like a wounded dog he was clenching his teeth and sitting on an equally time-worn throne. The silver frame was dotted with many scratches and dents, and the distinguished cannon still emitted a faint hint of smoke after being sliced in half.

The three members of the High Guard always stayed close by, but it seemed that no matter how hard they tried, their words always passed by Megatron's audials, that he didn't even have the slightest desire to cast his gaze at one of them.

“We can't waste time just because you're unable to move on from the last confrontation,” Starscream hissed demandingly, red optics fixed on the seated leader beside him. “We have a chance to mount a surprise attack until they secure their position in Iacon.”

The quiet scraping of metal against hard surface barely passes your optics. Fingers dig firmly into the armrests of the throne, at the mere talk about the recent defeat.

“Makes no sense. All focus should be on finding a suitable base for the Decepticons,’ Soundwave reminds, taking a single step forward towards the jet. Now, Starscream's gaze in Megatron's direction is blocked.

“So why haven't you started on this yet?” comes another, counter question. Stepping forward to meet the officer, the former leader of the guard gives his colleague only a sceptical, stern look.

“I'm working on it,” is the simple answer, not uncommon from the Decepticon's lips hidden behind the mask.

Starscream pinches himself on the bridge of his nose, closing his optics for a fleeting moment. This is what he gets after cycles of loyal service to the Primes. Total disobedience, and their new leader is hardly battle-hardened, spending twenty-four hours wasted in a pathetic attempt to soothe the yearning spark. To believe it, and this is the brat he lost to?

“Then get on it quick!” the red and white mech clucks his tongue, after which, casts a sharp glance in Megatron's direction. “If we can't keep fighting, what was the point of all this in the first place?”

Such an arrogant, son of a glitch. Doesn't know when it's the right time to shut up. That hit only deeper, after everything that happened for the past cycles. The constant whining and demands do nothing to ease his already troubled mind. He lost everything that day, the one and only time when he felt like everything. The bloody red optics darken at the words, and a soft growl escapes from him.

So, you step up.

“Soundwave is right, there will be another time for the attack, but now the top priority is to establish a base,” you raise your voice enough to catch all the decepticons around off guard. “Let our leader sort out his thoughts instead of pressing on him.”

Who could know you can speak up?

The confused sight you received from Starscream worth it in some way. If for all of Iacon you were an idol, loved by many, the old member of the high guard had no idea about you. The majority of the decepticons probably don't know either, you imagine, but does it really matter? The only look you only wanted, was from him.

An invisible, red string of fate always seemed to be tied around your wrist when it came to the unknown, small miner named D-16. After countless days of him following you around, it would be you looking out for him. How funny.

You smile.

Not a fighter, nor even build for any hard work. Your frame is neatly polished, shining pretty in the light. Even though at first of the decepticons glared and watched you with nothing but suspicion and hesitation at first, your bright charisma always let you have your way. Good on cameras, a valuable experience even at war. Somehow, you even made friends with them. You can even remember Slipstream and Thundercracker asking you about your daily polishing routine.

The same, dark red optics always trained on you. He should be glad, at least. Wasn't he concerned about your position in his new rankings? No matter how hard he tries to act so mighty and cruel, the big bad leader of the decepticons, Megatron, is still soft.

Still shy, you can add.

He's taller, stronger. If you easily towered over him, now the silver mech is the one looking down at you. It was odd, for some time. Your alt mode is build for speed, keeping you on the road and easily avoiding any obstacles that might get into the way. But with Megatronus' t-cog now, he's no longer that scrawny mech you were used to.

It must be so confusing to him, but so satisfying. It is no point in trying to hide it. With how tight his servos wrapped around your waist, holding you suffocatingly tight against his own frame. Like you'd run away or disappear if he let go. Funny enough, you'd do exactly the opposite of it.

The last bits of his own comfort in this Primus forgotten place. With you in his arms, he feels safe and loved, even though he doesn't understand what exactly this feeling means for him. He felt like that every time he was with Orion, playing that arcade game over and over, even as a miner, it was enough for him to be satisfied.

Megatron hides his face against your neck, closing his optics. Loved when he's with you. It was never this close until now. As D-16, all he had was glimpses of you on the big screen television, some rare, closed-door nights, when lucky.

He should be happy now, he thinks. No more hiding now, just you and him together. No more of this cursed society that stood in his way. Who would dare to oppose him at this moment? Tell him he has no chances of having you this close, however and whenever he wants it?

If only you just stood still and never moved an inch. He'd put you on the pedestal you deserve to be, so he could be the only one to be graced by your own appearance. A big, nice, glassy box will be good enough to cover you from the outside world, so maybe no Prime would even dare to lay their filthy hands on you.

Your servo gently laid on his back, moving in lazy, soothing circles. Both of you don't have to say a word; it was a comfortable silence between the two. After long, long and tiring days of work, he wants nothing but to rest next to you. Let himself fall in the long deserved recharge, so the constant, painful ache in his processor would be gone.

Such a peaceful sight for you. Having him this close, right in your arms. You would never dare to bother him at such a time. Even if his servos are fully covered in deep pink energon, wouldn't it be easy to just pretend not to notice it? If there's anything you're thankful for from your past career, it is the ability to turn blind optic when it's needed.

If you can't change him, you can definitely make him worse.

[mochindayo]

I drew something to go along with it, because I saw a drawing pose on pinterest and-- well-- here we are

---- A Human Function to Study ----

The alchemist nodded, his eyes keenly observing how Kaeya’s nostrils quivered, the edges flared and twitched in response to each stroke of the feather. 

“Anything else you could add?”

Kaeya sniffled sharply, his voice was unsteady as his body was preparing to sneeze. “Like…I hHh–I r-really nehHh…hhh….need to snHhehH–! S-sneeze–!”

Albedo hummed, still tickling Kaeya’s nose, pushing Kaeya to the breaking point. “Interesting–”

“ hHh’ihH–Ih’tTSCHhh!! eHEH’tCHH’uhh!! hHh’EH’TSHHhh!!” 

A rapid triple burst out of Kaeya, catching Albedo’s hand in the crossfire. Not that either of them actually minded. Kaeya’s whole body shook with each desperate sneeze. Four, five, six, was he done yet? Kaeya felt relieved when the sneezes had finally come out. It was torture attempting to talk about it while being tickled like that. 

----

[wrathofrats]

I think that Mist and Cirrus would make such a Boss Bitch pairing 😍

Hi happy femslash February. This isn’t at all an answer to this ask I kinda just saw mist and cirrus and then black out

So have 800 words of Mist fucking cirrus with a strap that’s too big for her

Warnings and tags: mist is kinda a sadist, cirrus is a bit pathetic and also a brat, degradation, mean mist, tightness shaming???? Is that a tag I can put, mist shames cirrus for being too tight, if you see a typo you’re ableist I wrote this with a needle in my wrist

“Mist”

Cirrus fumbled with the strap on mists hip, trying to slide it through the D rings in a way that made sense. Each time created a knot, some kind of mangled ball that didn’t sit or look right, and definitely didn’t tighten right even if cirrus insisted it would be fine.

“Fix it.” Mist leaned back against the wall with a bored look on her face. The harness sat over a pair of lacy white panties, the pretty fabric practically framing the ring that sat right in the center. Cirrus had been fidgeting with the straps for more than a couple minutes, if you asked her though she would’ve said hours. Initially she was excited by the proposition by mist for cirrus to put her strap on her, even being promised she could pick out the toy if she did well enough.

“I don’t know how” cirrus pulled again, the harness not budging with the figuration she had tried.

“If youre too stupid then we can give up for the night. If you’re sweet though I might touch you later. Poor thing, not your fault you’re too pretty to be smart”

“Don’t want your fingers, need your cock” cirrus huffed. A strong blush rose to her cheeks, trying to keep her wits even when they both knew mist talking down to her was the easiest way to make her brain fizzle.

“Need it?” Mist scoffed, “Clearly you don’t want it bad enough. If you did you would’ve figured it out by now”

Mist reached down to undo the strap, unceremoniously unthreading it and letting it hang by her side. A small smile tugged on the corner of her lips as cirrus only seemed to get angrier.

“You fucking do it then if you’re so smart”

Mist grabbed a fist full of cirrus’ hair, pulling it back to force her gaze up.

“Bad idea sweetheart. But if you insist”

Cirrus stayed on the floor as she watched mist tighten the harness around her waist, accentuated with an eye roll, pulling it taut. The closet door was already open, multiple toys having been set out by cirrus prior with the false hope of being able to pick one herself. Mist rummaged through the drawers before turning back around.

“You’re kidding” cirrus gawked at what was in her hand. Something she had seen in passing, assumed it was for one of the boys or if mist was being particularly insatiable. Thick purple silicone that mist couldn’t even wrap her hand around, longer than her forearm.

“What are you talking about cir?”

“It won’t fit”

“Said this is what you wanted. Thought I taught you to be grateful”

Mist shoved the toy through the ring on the front of her harness as cirrus tentatively climbed onto the bed. It looked even bigger on her small frame, and the cocky smile didn’t help to ease any of her nerves. A claw dragged cirrus’ panties down her legs, slightly digging into her skin and leaving a red welt in its wake.

“Gotta relax baby, I’m just giving you what you wanted. You wanted my cock right?”

“Yes-“

“Beg for it. Show me how much you really need me” mist sat in front of her stroking up and down the silicone. She had a wicked look on her face, keeping eye contact as she mock played with the slit.

“Please mist- I want your cock. Was trying so hard to be good I just need you”

“Then spread your legs”

It was hard to keep denying when she was slick and shiny as mist pushed her knees apart. Couldn’t keep up the story of not wanting to when her need was clear. The tip nudged between her folds, blunt head bullying against her hole. She slowly pushed in, cirrus arching off the bed, body trembling.

“It- fuck its too much-“ cirrus whimpered, her eyes glassy, writhing to adjust to such a stretch.

“I know it is sweetheart, I tried to warn you” mists sickly sweet tone was a sharp contrast to the pain, trying to keep still between her legs until cirrus could handle it a bit better, “that’s it baby just take deep breaths”

“Don’t move yet-“ tears welled in cirrus’ eyes when mist moved her hips out tentatively, an experimental movement to see how cirrus would whine. She had a hand on her hip, the other circling her clit to try and get her to open up more. The pain mixing with pleasure as cirrus’ brain fought on what it wanted to react to more.

“It’s not my fault you’re so tight” mist pushed back in, earning a sharp gasp, “in fact it only makes it harder to fuck you”

A tear rolled down cirrus’ cheek, whimpering as mist pushed her legs up against her chest.

“In fact you should be apologizing to me for being so tight, makes you a pretty useless toy if I can’t fuck you right?”

[freyito]

Want to write for boothill? Then....remember how he reacted when he was called cute? That should be your starting point

✭ pairing(s): boothill x gn reader

✧ a/n: as always, boothill cannot live a peaceful existence around me and MUST have some sort of angst in any fic i write. youre welcome :D

✦ taglist: @fffrost, @shinysora

🗒 cw: gn reader, GET SHIP OF THESEUS'D, little bit of hc work?, not proofread

✎ wc: 1.6k

ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴅᴀʀʟɪɴ'

Boothill is a prideful man. You know that better than anyone. He doesn’t take much compliments, if at all. Perhaps ‘handsome’, or maybe even ‘dashing’, but he only really accepts them from you. A man of his standing can’t be called… ‘cute’. No, no. He’s rough ‘n’ tough, he’s manly, and on occasion, he’s pretty. But not cute, adorable, or anything of the sort. Don’t insult him like that! Not even when he comes home with a new getup, pretty in pink, even down to his medals.

Well, not that you cared. You called him whatever you wished, because he was cute. Especially when he was all pouty, acting indignant. This didn’t help him, of course, it only spurred you on to show him with as many adorable nicknames you could. ‘Boo-Boo’ in particular has always stunned him. He’d get this look, where his nose scrunched, giving you an awkward grimace (which often turns into a sheepish smile), and his face lighting up like a firecracker. He’d stammer and trip over his words, telling you to ‘knock it off, sugar…’, shake his head, and mumble something about how you can’t do that to a man’s dignity.

But you do. He won’t do much about what you call him, because deep down it sparks something akin to butterflies in his stomach. Or, at least, in what could be his stomach. It’s more like an odd quivering feeling within his wires that simulates adrenaline, and apparently, nerves! Boothill himself will never get used to it, but you’re quite taken with the effect you have on him, and the subsequent results.

He loves you, he truly does. And of course he’s willing to sit still and accept the fact that you won’t stop hurling such… endearing words at him. Yet, despite all his protests, all his pouting and shaking his head, he can’t help but admit (to himself, if he let you know, he would never hear the end of it) that he quite enjoys it. A man like him, who tossed his body away to become a killing machine, the hollow shell he inhabits created for the sole reason of revenge, considered cute? He hasn’t heard words like that directed at him in such a long time. Not since he was a kid, anyways.

When he looks into the mirror, all he can see is a weapon. Even the most human parts feel twisted to him, his teeth reinforced for… what reason? There was a point where he forgot why he had gotten all these augmentations, wondering if he truly needed to shed the entirety of his humanity. Truly, there was no need for sharper teeth, augmented tongue, and an augmented eye. Nor did he need a neurochip, his mind alone could’ve gotten him this far. And yet, he had still gone through with it. All this to kill one man, who has avoided him for so many years. How many more augmentations, or “upgrades” would he need until his dream of revenge was finally realized? What would happen once that happens? Perhaps, by then, he wouldn’t be so deserving of–

You wrap your arms around Boothill’s waist and rest your head on his shoulder. He flinches instinctively, before letting out a soft chuckle and reaching up to pet through your messy hair. There you two are, framed in the length of the mirror, and in an instant, he forgets about his earlier thoughts. 

You had just woken up, barely able to keep your eyes open, or your steps steady. Despite your blurry vision, you had caught Boothill standing there, staring solemnly at his reflection in the mirror. This kind of thing was all too common, and you regret to admit you’ve noticed his penchant to stare for too long. You don’t understand what’s going on in his head, but at this point, you’d rather just hold him. And hold him you do, burying your face in the crook of his neck like the measly morning light that had filtered through the curtains was just too bright.

“Awh, darlin’, why don’t you go back to bed?” Boothill murmurs softly, leaning his head onto yours. “Didn’t mean to wake you, and definitely don’t mean to keep you up.”

You groan and shake your head half-heartedly, squeezing his waist just slightly to emphasize your want to stay. Or, perhaps your stubbornness to let go. You peak out from his shoulder, shooting him a look that tells him all. ‘I won’t go back to bed without you’, or something of the sort.

“Don’t give me that look,” He chuckles, tilting his head a little so he could press a kiss to the crown of your head. “I’ll be back in bed in a minute, okay? Just gotta… clean up…”

His voice tapers off as his gaze returns to the mirror, oddly transfixed on his teeth and eyes. You let go reluctantly, but you decide to stay close by. You stand next to him for a moment, looking up at him and watching the way he bared his teeth and leaned in. You raise your eyebrows, trying to decipher what was going on his head at the moment, to no avail. While he registers the fact that you are right next to him, he doesn’t say much else, focused on his reflection.

“Hey, cutie,” You mumble, deciding to take a page out of his book. He snaps out of his trance and stares down at you with that same, flustered look, his cheeks red as he tries his best to form a sentence, something to tell you off. Eventually, he gives up, shoulders slumping slightly as he allows himself to be defeated by such a simple word. “What’cha thinkin’ about?”

“I-It’s nothin’, hun. Just…” He shrugs, gesturing towards the mirror, then himself. “I think I’m… unhappy.”

You blink and stare up at him for a moment, surprised by those words. Boothill has always had his ups and downs, and around you, he was never afraid to ‘cry’, wallow, or anything of the sort. He could mournfully explain what happened to his home to you, he’d tell you he missed it, but you don’t think he’s ever said he was unhappy. 

“Ah, uhm… with me? With us? Or, like…” You point at his mouth, “Your teeth?”

“No! No, I could never be unhappy with you, sugar. Or the life we have– but, I mean, I guess the teeth are part of it,” He turns away from the mirror, gaze softened, almost sorrowful. “It’s my body… I ain’t insecure, or anything, and I know what I was gettin’ into. I mean, I chose this for a reason, but… I dunno. I don’t. Sometimes I start thinkin’ if it was worth it, and sometimes it scares me to think of what happens after.”

“After… what, exactly?”

“When I find that sunuva-nice-lady, and string him up by his pearls and show him what iron tastes like–”

“You’ll have me. We’ll have a life, we’ll have the same life we have now, or maybe even better.”

“I… I suppose we will… but I hate to be the bearer of bad news, when Oswaldo Schnieder is dead, my bounty’s only gonna get bigger. You know that.”

“I do, but, not to jinx it or anything, they don’t know where we are. We can live out our peace day by day by day… yada yada yada.”

Boothill pauses, and thinks about it. It’s nice, that kind of future. But he also understands that it won’t be possible. You do too. Not that you want to admit it, if you were to say it out loud, you feared that it would become true.

After a beat, Boothill sighs and wraps his arm around your waist, nudging you back to the bed.

“Well, it’s a bit too early to think about that, isn’t it. I’ve yet to find the dang clockstucker,” He huffs, shaking his head, before falling back onto the bed, hands behind his head. “Best we get some rest instead of talkin’ all grim-like. Ain’t good for our minds.”

You follow suit, laying down next to him with a huff, rolling over onto your side and staring up at him. He closes his eyes, as if pondering something, or perhaps trying to go to sleep. Granted, he didn’t need to. He just liked to play along with you, hold you close and cuddle up despite how ‘uncomfy’ he claimed his body to be. Yeah, metal and steel wasn’t exactly the softest material, but… you liked it all the same. At this point in the relationship, it felt normal. If anything, it’d feel wrong to hold anything else other than steel.

Propping yourself up on your elbow, you reach out with your other hand and cup his face. His eyes flutter open near immediately, tilting his head ever so slightly and looking up at you.

“What’s up?” He smiles weakly, his bravado faltering. You know damn well that whatever was on his mind earlier was still haunting him, and you’d rather have him fight against being called the word ‘cute’, rather than this.

With a huff, you take your hand from his cheek, raking your fingers through his bangs before pushing them up and revealing the rest of his face. Taken aback, he blinks, eyebrows furrowing as he tries to decipher your goal. The eye that’s normally covered is damaged, torn a little at the edge, revealing some of the mechanized shell underneath. It’s not something he’s secretive about, you’ve known about it well before you two had started dating, but you didn’t see it much, and therefore, you were quite fascinated by it.

Before Boothill gets a word of protest in, you lean in and press a gentle kiss to his lips. It’s small and fleeting, but it’s enough to earn you a blush and a confused look. His lips work to form a word, but he ultimately fails, body slumping slightly as he realizes exactly what you’re going to say.

“You’re cute, you know? Like–”

“I know, I know, sugar. Thank you.”

© freyito, 2025 | masterlist | queue | kofi | discord server | strawpage | star header by roseschoices DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN, REPOST ON ANY OTHER PLATFORM, OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.

[jsabimi]

. . . still trying

. . . synopsis: when an aspiring painter - who knows how to love deeply, but has been left hesitant to trust again - gets to lead a pastries-and-painting night at your best friend's café every friday night, meets you - a fiercely independent lawyer's assistant who has no interest in romance - he knows he's ready to give love another try. you, however, have seen love fall apart one too many times and are determined to keep your heart out of his reach.

what you didn't expect was his quiet patience, the way he sees past your walls without ever pushing. you can't tell if this would be another love story that ends in heartbreak or if it could be the real deal for you.

. . . pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader(f)

. . . genre: strangers to lovers, non-idol au, social media au, super slow burn, fluff, angst, pining, suggestive - so minors dni!

. . . warnings: heartbreak, talks of past toxic relationships, reader struggles with emotions, will be using images in this fic of 2023 hyunjin because..2023 hyunjin got me weak and i wont get over it, mentions of alcohol, mentions of house parties, mentions of sex - other warnings will be listed on individual chapters.

. . . author's note: haha~! i bet you guys thought i was gone, but no, i was just working on this - an idea i've had for a while (like... months lmao) but haven't been able to actually sit down and put it together until a couple weeks ago. this is still a work in progress, but the outline of the story is pretty much all set! just need to finish a few layouts of the chapters. but i'm really excited for this story and hope you all enjoy it and the journey of my first actual smau series! xoxo

. . . taglist!: okay after popular demand, i've decided to make a taglist. but i will only tag those who agree to reblog, comment or leave feedback. that's all i ask. and yes, i will be able to see who does or doesn't and have no problem removing those who don't. as a writer feedback and reblogs are our life line. if you want to be on the taglist please either comment on the post or send an ask to be added! again, thanks for the support and love for this story - it's my first born smau and i'm proud of her 🥹

. . . I N D E X

. 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚜

. 𝚌𝚑 𝟷

[yumeaoka-chan]

A Little Clueless

Another part to what I'm thinking will be a mini series of oneshots❤️ Come get your food @pleaktale and @the-kr8tor 🤭

Pairing: Ekko x Reader x Hobie Brown/ Ekko x Reader x Spider-Punk! Hobie Brown

Word Count: 1.2k

Tags: fluff, flirting(eh), first kisses, no physical description of reader, can be read as any gender really, cursing, modern au(they're all in Hobie's universe, really)

Summary: You're confused about the relationship between you and your roommates. They're quick to remedy that.

“What are we…?”

The question slipping out of your mouth makes the two men lift up their heads to look at you, leaving the headrest called your thighs. You can feel your face heating up now at the attention you managed to draw upon yourself, mentally cursing yourself for voicing your thoughts. The movie playing on the television sounds like static to you now, a nervous sweat forming on the back of your neck as your wide eyes remain glued to the screen.

“Uh, I mean”, you stammer, trying and failing to explain yourself, given that they're looking at you expectantly. Eyebrows quirked in a questioning manner, Hobie sits upright on the couch, your hand slipping out of his hair from the movement. Laying his head back on your lap, Ekko shifts so that he's gazing up at you, confusion shining in his hazel brown eyes.

“What do you mean, trouble”, he mumbles softly, leaning in a bit to Hobie's hand that lightly scratches at his scalp. Their questioning stares are pricking at your skin and you shift ever so slightly, nervousness gnawing at your insides. Taking a deep breath, you pull your eyes away from the movie that you really weren't paying attention to anymore, willing away the flutters in your stomach. It was now or never.

“I-It's just… We don't act like normal mates”, you mutter, anxiously picking at your nails. Which is instantly stopped by Ekko grasping one of your hands, interlocking your fingers together and resting them on his chest. The action makes you blink and your breath hitch, before you shake your head and force yourself to continue speaking, trying to ignore the way your heart practically skipped a beat. Movie long forgotten about now, they both give you their full attention.

“You both have been… nice. A little too nice, actually. I mean, you take turns picking me up from work. I'm given things I want before I even ask and we're really touchy with each other. Not saying that it isn't normal for friends to be touchy. W-We also go on outings almost every two weeks, not to mention that picnic we had two days ago.” The feeling of Hobie resting his chin on your shoulder makes you tense up just a bit, the flutters in your stomach coming back ever so slightly. Taking a chance to glance over at him, you have to reign in the shyness that threatens to have you go mute at the sight of his pretty russet brown eyes gazing at you warmly. Wait, did you just call them pretty? Pretty…?

“I-It, uh, I… I know it's normal for friends to g-go on picnics and stuff. But it was such a nice one and you guys brought little candles and cooked such nice food”, you say hurriedly, trying to quickly make your point before your flusteredness got the better of you. Especially when they both let out soft chuckles, voices smooth and rich. This was starting to get out of hand. “I-I just think it was a little romantic for us just being roommates. It feels like we're d-dating, kinda…”

“Wha’ did you think we were doin’, lovie”, Hobie hums, voice deep and cool breath fanning your warm cheek. Lifting his head up off of your shoulder, you feel as he brushes his finger underneath your chin, gently turning your head to face him. Lopsided grin lighting up his handsome features, mirth gleams in his eyes and effectively renders you breathless. “‘S that wha’ you thought we were? Just good mates, all this time?” His words have you gobsmacked, mind scrambling to come to terms with what he'd just uttered. There's no way he actually meant that.

“Y-You're fucking with me… You guys don't really like me like that, right?” The weight on your lap is suddenly gone as Ekko lifts himself up now, hand holding yours pulling you a bit until you're so close to him that you can see your reflection in his sparkling eyes. A few white locs spill over his eyes and there's a smirk on his lips, amusement and something else you don't dare to think about swimming in his gaze. The sight of him makes you internally scream.

“Doubting our feelings for you? Guess we didn't do a good enough job of showing them, Hobes.” Man beside you chuckling at your roommate's words, you can't help the shiver that runs down your spine at the closeness of them both. Heart hammering in your ears, the sudden realization of everything leading to this moment threatens to overwhelm you.

“Guess so, ‘Ko. Wha’ say you, darlin’? Let us show you properly, yeah…?” Hobie's breath tickles your ear and Ekko's gentle, slightly calloused hand rests on the back of your neck. Flutters in your stomach now a violent churning storm, you swear you're dreaming. You have to be, this has to be one of the many dreams of them you'd already had. That's the only thing that would make this situation partially believable. Only, you're actually, most definitely not. Eyelids lowered and face close to your own, Ekko mumbles softly, breathily.

“Can we kiss you, baby…?” And, honestly, who were you to deny them? A nod from you was all it took before pillowy lips softly pressed against yours, gentle and sweet at first, making your eyes flutter shut. And when you leaned in for more, it grew hungry, passionate and absolutely breathtaking. Breath mingling and senses buzzing, his kiss is all taking, like he's drawing something out of you that you didn't know you wanted to give him so freely. Lips brushed along the shell of your ear as Ekko kissed you senseless, and only after he had fully gotten his taste of you completely, until you felt the full extent of his feelings for you, did he pull back, the both of you gasping for air. You were still reeling from his kiss before you were pulled into another by a hand underneath your chin.

Hobie swallows the gasp that escapes you, hunger evident in the way your lips slot together, piercing cool against your heated flesh. Your hand not held by Ekko reaches up to gently grasp the hair near the nape of his neck, making him press closer against you as he adorns you with his affection. Hobie kisses you like he's dying of thirst, like you are his only source of water and he wants to drown in you and you in him. Head spinning and breath effectively stolen, Hobie pulls back to give you both air. Blinking your eyes open, your chest heaves as you peer at him. He and Ekko, who had somehow moved during your kiss with Hobie and was currently resting his chin on the man's shoulder, both gaze at you with affection gleaming in their pretty eyes. Such pretty fucking eyes.

“Get it now, sweetheart”, Hobie huffs with a loving smile, taking a moment to press a gentle kiss against Ekko's cheek. “We're really fuckin’ crazy ‘bout you, love.” Nodding in agreement, Ekko takes your hand and brings it up to his lips, sweetly kissing the back of it and causing your poor heart to pound so hard in your chest that it practically aches. And when they both reach out to pull you into a loving embrace with you nestled between them, you want to kick yourself for ever doubting them. You wouldn't be making that mistake again anytime soon.

[danika-redgrave124]

Day 3: Secret Admirer

The warm glow of the candlelight flickered softly in the hall of Night Raven College, casting long shadows that danced across the polished floor. Riddle couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so... distracted. It wasn’t the festive atmosphere of Feburary that had him on edge—no, it was the letter in his hands. A simple white envelope, sealed with a delicate, golden wax stamp in the shape of a heart.

His fingers, stiff as they were, had almost dropped the letter when he first found it hidden under his napkin during lunch. The handwriting on the envelope was elegant, but there was something unusual about it—something that struck him with both curiosity and unease. It wasn’t his usual type of correspondence, and certainly not from anyone he had expected.

Opening the envelope cautiously, Riddle unfolded the paper and began reading. The words were short, sweet, and cryptic, speaking of admiration, of being seen for more than the rules he so rigidly enforced, and of wanting to learn more about him. It was signed only with a small, heart-shaped symbol.

Riddle sighed. It was probably some prank, one of Ace's antics most likely. He shook his head, trying to dismiss the fluttering in his chest. He couldn’t let himself get caught up in something as trivial as a schoolyard crush. And yet… something about the words felt genuine. He wasn’t used to receiving attention that wasn’t attached to his strict discipline or reputation as a Dorm Leader.

As if on cue, Kalim appeared beside him, practically glowing as usual, his smile wide and welcoming.

"Hey, Riddle!" Kalim's voice rang through the air with a cheerful lilt. "Did you get something interesting?" He gestured toward the letter in Riddle’s hand, a knowing glimmer in his eyes.

Riddle blinked, momentarily startled by Kalim's sudden appearance. "You... You know about this?"

Kalim grinned, his expression lighthearted but with a hint of mischief. "Well, I saw you reading it, so I thought I’d come over. It’s kind of a big deal, right? Secret admirer stuff!"

Riddle’s cheeks flushed ever so slightly, his usual composure slipping for a moment. "It's a nonsense letter, Kalim. Someone is likely making a joke at my expense." He tried to sound confident, but even to his own ears, his voice lacked the usual authority.

Kalim laughed, a sound that was like a breath of fresh air. "If it's a joke, it’s a pretty sweet one. I don’t think I've seen someone write a letter like that in ages." His eyes softened as he looked at Riddle. "Whoever it is must think you’re really special." Kalim’s voice was filled with warmth, and for a moment, Riddle felt his heart skip a beat.

"Do you… Do you think so?" Riddle’s question caught him off guard. Kalim's simple honesty, paired with his ever-present smile, made Riddle feel vulnerable in a way he wasn’t accustomed to. He wasn’t sure if he was ready for the possibility of someone feeling that way about him, but the idea lingered, soft and tempting.

Kalim grinned brightly, his eyes sparkling with sincerity. "Of course I do! You’re one of the most determined, intelligent, and kind people I know. Anyone would be lucky to have a crush on you."

Riddle’s face turned an even deeper shade of red. He shifted uncomfortably, but the words felt different coming from Kalim. They were genuine, filled with admiration and not a hint of teasing.

"Thanks, Kalim," Riddle muttered, his voice softening. "I guess... I guess it’s just hard for me to believe anyone would feel that way about me."

Kalim tilted his head thoughtfully, his smile growing even wider. "Well, you’ll never know unless you give them a chance, right? Maybe this secret admirer will be someone who understands you better than you think." His voice held a certain playfulness, yet it was laced with a depth that made Riddle feel like he was truly being seen.

Riddle chewed on his lip, the feeling in his chest now both warm and heavy. Maybe Kalim was right. Perhaps he had been too quick to dismiss the idea of someone admiring him for who he truly was—not just the strict, rule-abiding Heartslabyul Dorm Leader, but the person beneath all that.

"I'll think about it," Riddle said, his voice almost a whisper, as he carefully folded the letter back and tucked it into his pocket.

Kalim beamed, clearly pleased. "Take your time," he said, a light chuckle escaping him. "And if you ever need advice on how to handle a secret admirer, you know where to find me!" He winked and walked off, leaving Riddle standing there, a little dazed but with a smile of his own.

Riddle stared after Kalim, feeling a mix of confusion and something softer—something new stirring within him. Maybe, just maybe, he could let himself entertain the thought of being admired in this way.

After all, it was a feeling he had never really allowed himself to have.

Collage belongs to @frie-ice

@oh-hopeless-heart

I'm also exploring rare pairs in this event, but I wasn't sure if I was writing both Riddle and Kalim in a romantic light or platonic one. It's up to speculation.

[scary-grace]

#3 for roommates to lovers!! :D

Hi! Thank you so much for this prompt! As I alluded to, I went through two other versions of this fic before settling on this one, so if this ends up not being your speed, that's okay -- let me know and I'll post one of the others.

Prompt: “i’m guessing that the fact you’re already home will tell me everything i need to know about how your date went.” No quirks AU, female reader, Shigaraki and the reader are roommates, approximately 3k. ANGST. But with a happy ending.

CASUAL

You hear the key in the lock on the front door and try to scramble up off the couch, at which point the four shots of vodka you’ve taken announce their presence. The first thing to go is your balance, and you bump into the coffee table before tipping backwards onto the couch again. The next is your dignity, when you realize that your roommate and his Valentine’s Day date are about to walk in and see you, on the couch in your pajamas and totally trashed. The third is your control over your emotions. Your face heats up and your throat goes tight and your eyes start to sting, and that’s all before Tomura even opens the door.

Tomura snagged himself a date for Valentine’s Day. A really hot date, Spinner took pains to tell you, like it was something for you to be excited about. Some cosplayer whose DMs he slid into, who dresses up as the slutty version of all his favorite video game characters, who flirts with guys and girls alike but never seems to settle down. Tomura’s friends are all amazed that he was able to pull it off, but you aren’t. You’ve been roommates with Tomura long enough to know that there’s more to him than meets the eye.

And you know he’s got some degree of game. You’d have to, since it worked pretty well on you.

Or maybe your game, as weird and offbeat as it is, worked pretty well on him. However it happened, you’ve been fucking him for the last six months. It started as hooking up to blow off steam, because neither of you had been on a date in forever and you were both too lazy or bad at dating apps to find a booty call. Just a roommates-with-benefits thing. A little recreation. Casual.

You’re not sure where it went off the rails, but over the past six months, you’ve slid from not hanging out except when you’re fucking to hanging out all the time, from bitching about your friends and their love lives to trading loaded glances when it comes up, from texting each other hey you up from your rooms to sleeping in the same bed. It started out as casual, but it’s not casual anymore. At least not to you. You were trying to think of how to raise the subject with Tomura, and thinking maybe of doing it tonight, until he announced out of nowhere that he’s got this date.

You didn’t find out until a couple days ago, and since then you’ve been seething, or at least you tell yourself that the throbbing ache in your chest is seething instead of heartbreak. You’ve played it cool around Tomura, razzing him over the restaurant he picked, offering to let him borrow your hair products if he wants to do something special with it – except then he took you up on it, the bastard, and he left for his date smelling like your leave-in conditioner. Part of you is pleased by that, by the thought that his date might catch the scent and wonder if she really is the only one he’s into. The rest of you thinks about her getting close enough to smell his hair and decides to throw up about it.

You lock your jaw and swallow hard. As terrible as this is going to be, the only thing worse than them walking in on you in the midst of a single-woman cringefest is if they walk in on you throwing up. What’s taking them so long to walk in on you, anyway? Tomura’s still trying to unlock the fucking door. You picture his date pressed back against the door, the two of them unwilling to stop kissing long enough to get into the apartment, and a surge of disgust and anger and hurt hits you harder than the vodka did. Fuck this. You’ve had enough.

This time you’re more careful as you get off the couch, and you’re steady enough on your feet as you cross the room to the front door. Deadbolt off, latch turned, two seconds to brace yourself, and you wrench open the door. You’re expecting the two of them to fall over onto you, so wrapped up in each other that they barely notice the shift from vertical to horizontal. But you don’t see any cosplayer in the hallway, or smell anyone’s perfume. The only person there is Tomura, still dressed for his date, trying to unlock the door with the wrong key.

The two of you look at each other for a moment. You can’t speak for him, but your mind’s gone totally blank. Except for one thing. “That’s the laundry-room key. Not the apartment key.”

Tomura keeps staring at you for another few seconds, then looks down at the key like he’s never seen it before. “They look the same.”

“Yeah. And you’ve lived her for two years. When are you going to suck it up and label them?” Your frustration is starting to spill over, and it gets worse with every second Tomura spends looking at you. Why is he looking at you like that? Like he’s hurt – like you’re being mean to him for no reason, when you’re not even being that mean. You could be meaner. He’s the one who went out and got a hot date without even telling you, when – “Wait, what time is it?”

Tomura glances at his watch, then holds it out to show you. Seven-thirty. Huh. “You’re back early.”

“Yeah.” Tomura takes off his watch and drops it into his coat pocket. “Are you going to let me in or what?”

You stand aside, the wheels turning in your head with painful slowness. Tomura’s date was supposed to start at six. He’s back at seven-thirty. He’s back alone. That’s not what happens with a Valentine’s Day date where things go according to plan, and everything about the way Tomura’s acting right now says that things went off the rails. The last three days, you’ve been proceeding under the assumption that Tomura’s Valentine’s Day would be fuck-on-the-first-date good. It never crossed your mind that it might go badly.

“Are you going to close the door or just stand there like that all night?” Tomura sounds tired, but there’s an edge to his voice. “I guess I don’t have to ask what you’ve been doing. You can’t hold your liquor for shit.”

“And I guess since you’re back already, I don’t have to ask about how your date went,” you return fire without thinking. You shut the door, maybe harder than you meant to, and turn to face Tomura with your arms crossed over your chest, doing everything in your power not to cry. “Want to tell me about it?”

“Do you care?” Tomura picks up the vodka bottle, uncaps it, and takes a long sip. “I don’t think you give a shit.”

“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t,” you snap on autopilot, but the longer you think about it, the more confused you get. “What have I ever done to make you think I don’t care about you?”

Tomura doesn’t answer. He’s too busy drinking half your vodka in a single swallow, unnerving you even more. “Hey. Stop. Whatever happened on your date, it’s not worth a hangover. I’ll help you, but –”

“Don’t worry about that. You’re off the hook.”

“What?” You’ve always helped Tomura with hangovers, way before you started sleeping together. His body reacts to alcohol like it’s actual poison, and there’s no point since you met him that you’ve ignored him when he needs help. “I’m not on the hook, Tomura. I do that stuff because I want to.”

“So stop wanting to,” Tomura says, but at least he puts the bottle down. “It shouldn’t be that hard for you. You’re good at not doing things you don’t want.”

“What are you talking about?” You can’t wrap your head around it. Tomura’s pissed at you. He’s the one who went on the date. Even if it didn’t go well, he still went on the date, so where does he get off being mad at you? “If you’re going to do this, say what you mean. It’ll be a lot faster, and after what you put me through –”

“What I put you through?” Tomura’s laughter goes jagged. “What do you tell your friends about me?”

“Nothing –”

“Right. Because it’s casual,” Tomura sneers. You’d believe it a lot more if you didn’t see his shoulders go tense, see the tendons in his neck stand out, hear the catch in his breathing. “Because I’m just some loser who’s still hanging around.”

“Because I don’t want to hear them tell me it’s a bad idea!” Your voice pitches upwards, fraying at the edges in a way you hate. “I don’t want to let them take something that makes me happy and ruin it. But maybe I should have, because I hate that I let this drag on so long, and if they’d told me it was a bad idea and I’d listened, then I wouldn’t be –”

“If it’s such a bad idea, then –”

All at once you’re fed up with this. Tired of pretending it’s fine. Tired of listening to him tear into you over something that isn’t even close to true. “I wouldn’t be losing my shit because you went out with someone else on fucking Valentine’s Day!”

Tomura blinks. “What?”

“You heard me.” You can’t look at him right now. You slump back against the door, your arms crossed over your chest, eyes averted. “Don’t come after me when you’re the one being casual. I’m not the one who went out and got a hot date.”

“That’s what you’re mad about?” Tomura demands. You nod, your eyes stinging. “Were you ever going to say that?”

“And out myself as the one who caught feelings? Are you joking?”

“No!” Tomura explodes. You look at him and find him scratching at his neck, hard. “That’s what I wanted you to do!”

It’s your turn to stare blankly, and Tomura’s the one who can’t meet your gaze. He spins away from you, still scratching. “I haven’t slept in my own bed in a month and a half. I can’t fall asleep without you anymore. You make tea for me if you’re the one who wakes up first and I kiss you goodbye if I leave before you do and even the stuff I hate doing is fun if you’re doing it with me. Except it feels like that because I’m in love with you. And you’re only doing it to blow off steam.”

The stinging in your eyes hits fever pitch. You blink and tears slip down your cheeks. “Tomura –”

“I thought if I told you I had a date, you’d say something. So I’d know one way or the other.” Tomura’s scratching slows, from frantic scrabbles to hard digs. “But you acted like you didn’t care at all. So I went on the date and she could tell I wasn’t into it and she gave me a hard time for leading her on –”

You hated his date on principle up until a few seconds ago. Now you’re actually starting to feel bad for her. Being on the other end of Tomura’s disinterest feels awful. “If you liked me, why didn’t you just say it?”

“I didn’t want to out myself, either.”

You both caught feelings. Neither of you wanted to admit it, but now you both have, which would be really nice except for how you got here. “So we’ve been yelling at each other over nothing.”

“I guess.” Tomura’s hand slows still further, the scratches lightening again. “Now what?”

“Uh –” You try to think, but you’re coming up sort of empty. “We just ruined our first Valentine’s Day together. Should we have make-up sex or something?”

Tomura snorts. “There’s not anything to make up. We were both stupid and we both hurt each other. We’re even.”

“That’s not exactly a no on the make-up sex.” You lever yourself off the door and cross the room to him, reaching up to pull his hand away from the side of his neck. The first time you ever tried that, he got mad at you, but ever since he’s let you do it. He lets you do it today, and you kiss his hand. “I just want us to feel better. It doesn’t matter how we do it.”

Tomura’s fingers curl and uncurl, like he can’t decide whether he wants to hold on. “I said I love you. Do you love me, or did you just catch feelings?”

You had that one coming, probably. “I love you,” you admit, and his grip on your hand tightens. “I should probably have warned you before we started hooking up, but I’m kind of shit at this casual thing.”

“Same.” Tomura leans back against you ever so slightly and you plant your feet in a hurry. “What movie were you watching?”

“Something dumb. We can watch something else.”

“Yeah. When we get back.”

“When we get back?” you ask. “From where?”

“It’s still Valentine’s Day,” Tomura says. “And you’re my girlfriend, so I should probably take you out.”

You’re his girlfriend. You’ve never had a shorter define-the-relationship talk in your life, and part of you can’t think past what a relief it is. But you and Tomura have never gone out, anywhere – whatever’s going on with you has stayed here in your apartment, barely even referenced when you’re outside of it. And you’re not exactly at your best. “I’m in my pajamas,” you start, only to realize how dumb it sounds. “I can change. It won’t take long, and I’ll be ready to go.”

Tomura’s grip on your hand tightens for a brief second before he lets you go. “Wait here.”

He disappears into his room, and you take the opportunity to cap the bottle of vodka and wipe your eyes. You never really got into it with the crying, and you can feel it lurking somewhere in the background, ready to ambush you when you least expect it. It’s been a hard night. Maybe it’s okay if you cry a little bit. Crying in front of your roommate-with-benefits is one thing. It’s probably okay to cry in front of your boyfriend.

The door to Tomura’s room opens. “Okay,” Tomura says, and your jaw drops at the sight of him. “Now we can go.”

You didn’t think much about what he was doing in there, but you assumed he was changing out of his fancy date clothes into something more casual. But Tomura’s skipped straight over casual. He’s wearing pajama pants and the League of Legends hoodie you got him for his birthday last year, and you can see the hem of a comically oversized t-shirt sticking out beneath it. As you watch in shock, he tucks his keys and his phone into the front pocket of the hoodie and heads for the door. “Are you coming?”

“Um, yes.” You find your own phone and wallet, detouring to your room to grab a sweater. “Tomura –”

“You look good like that,” Tomura says. He looks you up and down in a way that makes you think that make-up sex might not be entirely off the table. “I was just getting on your level. Where do you want to go?”

“I’m not sure,” you admit. “Let’s figure it out on the way.”

There are other things to figure out on the way, too. Like whose room is going to be your room together, and what you’re going to do with the other one. Like what you’re going to tell your friends, or how Tomura’s going to explain blowing his date with an objectively hot cosplayer so he can go out with you. Like holding hands – which way you like better, and how tight is too tight to hold on, and how fast is it acceptable to grab each other’s hands back after you have to let go.

“This is what got me in trouble,” Tomura says, inspecting your laced fingers as the two of you wait for the train. “Holding hands.”

“How did it get you in trouble?” you ask. “We never really do that at home, except –”

You trail off, your face flushing, and Tomura elaborates. “It was like the third time we hooked up or something. You probably don’t remember.”

You do. It was the fourth time you hooked up, the first time it was spontaneous instead of planned, and you were blowing him on the couch, whichever movie you’d been watching completely forgotten. Tomura was being himself about it, twitching and squirming and making all kinds of pretty sounds that he kept trying to hide, and you glanced sideways at one point and saw his hand, scrabbling desperately at the couch cushions. You had a free hand, so you reached out and held it. You remember being startled at how tightly Tomura held on, surprised at how quickly he stopped trying to be quiet, and when you finally drew back, you were surprised again at how reluctant he was to let you go.

It was weird, but you wrote it off, until the next time you hooked up with him and he went for your hand while he was eating you out. Then it was your turn to hold on too tight.

“I was probably reading into it,” Tomura continues, snapping you out of a set of memories that you’d really rather not be wandering through on a train, “but you doing that – it didn’t seem all that casual to me.”

“Maybe it was never that casual,” you admit. You don’t think you’d have started hooking up with him in the first place if you hadn’t already liked him at least a little bit. “I think I’ll be fine if I never hear the word ‘casual’ again.”

“Casual.”

“Shut up.”

“Casual,” Tomura says again, and you nudge him with your shoulder a little harder than necessary. You’d elbow him, but you’d have to let go of his hand. “We’re going out on Valentine’s Day. Is it casual now?”

He’s joking – mostly. You can tell by the way his grip on your hand tightens, the way his red eyes search your face with a little more urgency than before. “No,” you say, and you kiss him, feeling his lips curve into a smile against yours. “It’s not casual at all.”

[marianasbored]

Jun-ho, Dae-ho, thanos (separate, like 3 mini stories, if you get it??? Otherwise do how you like it) fucking reader so good she gets problems with her asthma. Not like she needs medical attention but a five minute break to get/take her medicine and then she's ready to go again!!

TYYY FOR SENDING ME A REQUEST AAAAA

THIS CONCEPT IS SO FUNNY TO ME OFC ILL DO IT 😛😛 I HAVE BREATHING PROBLEMS TOO GIRLY 🙏

SORRY THIS TOOK A HOT MINUTE TO WRITE AND I FEEL LIKE IT COULD BE BETTER BUT I JUST WANTED TO POST IT ALREADY 💔

Note: I’ve never written mini stories like this before and I barely read any Thanos or Jun-ho stuff so this might suck 💔 I’ve also never had an asthma attack before 😭

Jun-ho, Dae-ho, and Thanos x asthmatic reader !!

୭ 🎬 ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎ 🎱ྀིྀི

Jun-ho :

warning: I don’t think I’ve ever read anything Jun-ho related so sorry if this is out of character or something 😭

You woke up with Jun-ho in your bed, deciding to cuddle for a while before getting up. But one thing led to another…and now his cock is deep in your warm pussy >.< !!

I mean can you blame him? You sound so pretty when you’re sleepy, and the way the morning light fell on your face made you look like an angel.

You guys were still technically cuddling… just now with your panties pulled to the side…

“H-haah..Jun-ho..” you moan, trying to catch your breath as his cock bullied your insides

“You’re doing so good baby… so perfect all for me…” he moaned in your ear

You were being so loud, you couldn’t help it!! He was fucking you so good…your legs were literally shaking !!

“Jun-ho…!” You whined again, causing him to pick up the pace

Fuck, you really were breathing heavily now… I mean he was fucking you like it was the last time he’d be able to or something !!

He noticed pretty quickly there was something off, despite him being a little distracted by your pussy >.<

“You okay, pretty girl?” He asked softly, slowing down to help you catch your breath

“M-mhm..” you nodded, feeling dizzy “just…n-need…my…inhaler…” you panted

He reached behind him on the night stand and grabbed you your inhaler, handing it over to you gently and paying close attention to you

He gave you a moment to compose yourself before you smiled, chuckling softly, the sound making him relax

“Feeling better?” He asked, kissing your cheek with a little smirk

“Y-yeah..” you said “please..keep going now..” you whined

“That’s my girl” he said with a grin, starting to fuck you at the same pace again

Dae-ho:

Dae-ho had you in missionary, just so he could stare at your pretty face while he fucks you :3

“You look so perfect baby…” he moaned, delivering slow, deep thrusts.

All you could do was moan, watching as he moved his hands to squeeze and play with your tits. >.<

“Dae-Ho..” you whined as he fucked you faster, going impossibly deeper

“You feel so good baby..” he moaned “just so perfect..”

He kept squeezing your tits, the stimulation driving you crazy >.<

You close your eyes, tilting your head back due to the pleasure before he suddenly slows down “uh uh uh” he tsks at you

“look at me baby” he commanded softly, and you open your eyes once more

“Good girl” he smiled and kissed your neck before speeding up his thrusts, the sound of your moans increasing as you started to pant

“You sound so pretty..” he said softly, causing you to whimper

He kept speeding up, and the more he did, the worse your panting got

“Shit” you thought. You didn’t want him to stop, but you were starting to think that you needed your inhaler !!

“D-Dae-ho..” you whined, but the way you said it caused him to slow down a little in concern

“What is it baby?” He asked, tucking your hair behind your ear and kissing your forehead

“Need my . . .inhaler. . .” You panted

He wasted no time in pulling out and grabbing your inhaler, his instincts kicking in as he handed it to you, his eyebrows knitted together in concern.

“You okay baby?” He asked, handing you a cup of water as you nodded and drank it

He sat up and placed you on his lap. “You sure?” He asked

You put the water back on the nightstand “yeah I’m sure..”

He kissed you on the cheek and then started kissing your neck “wanna keep going?” He asked in between kisses

“Y-yes please..” you whined from the sensitivity of your neck, watching him continue to kiss you gently.

He then lifted you up and slowly pushed his cock into you, grabbing your hips and making his pretty girl ride him >.<

Thanos:

Warnings: Thanos calls reader “slut”, spanking, hair pulling, drug use, unprotected sex, Thanos is a little mean but nothing crazy

Thanos was fucking you from behind, your ass arched high in the air for him to see. His hands were gripping your hips tight enough to leave bruises and the sound of your moans filled the room.

You had both taken one of his pills just to hang out and watch a movie, but you know nothings ever “just a hangout” with Thanos.

“F-fuck..!” You moan as he picks up the pace, letting out a loud whimper as he lifts up a hand to slap your ass.

“Yeah you like that?” You could hear his grin “fucking slut..” he groans, watching how his cock slides in and out of you at a rough pace

He was fucking you so good, the drugs making it feel even better, and making you feel more sensitive than usual >.<

“Fuck..she’s drooling all over me..” he said with a low moan, referring to how your pussy was leaking on his cock.

He moved one of his hands from your hips to your hair, tugging at it just to hear you whine and get louder

“My perfect slut..” he moans “no one else gets to fuck you like I do..” he tugged on your hair a little harder as you murmur a little “mhm..”

“Fucking use your words” he grunts, spanking you again “Y-Yes sir..!” You managed to choke out “Good slut” he smirks, moving his hand to toy with your clit.

Fuck, he was making you see stars, making you pant, making you dizzy, making you hyperventilate-. . .-wait a minute! Hyperventilate? All of the sudden you realize you don’t remember how to breathe properly!! And the dizziness is getting worse !!

You start waving your arm at him weakly, trying to touch his hand to get him to stop, all while trying to steady your breathing. “Baby I can’t..-“

You try to speak, making him slow down a bit “what is it..?” He asks before he sees you point at your inhaler on your night stand “Ohh” he finally realizes and pulls out, causing you to whine.

He repositioned you so you were sitting up in bed and grabs your inhaler, watching you use it and start to relax

He chuckles at the realization of what happened, “was I fucking you that good, baby?” He grinned, watching you blush from embarrassment and nod.

He reached for a glass of water, handing it to you and watching you drink it.

You looked so pretty, panting, covered in a sheer layer of sweat, messy hair and tired eyes. You really were perfect to him

“Are you feeling better now?” He asked after a moment

“Yeah I think so..” you say, putting the water and inhaler on the night stand

“Good” he said, suddenly throwing your legs over his shoulders and fucking you at the same pace he was before >.<

୭ 🎬 ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎ 🎱ྀིྀི

Additional note: guys I kinda hate my writing in this srry pls don’t judge I’m still learning 💔

[witchysniffles]

new year's eve

A/gathario ft. sick A/gatha being too stubborn for her own good. 8.7k words (💀) There WILL be a part 2 to this at some point, but given how long this took it might be a minute lol.

All of this was inspired by @flutterytickles's tags on this post about the idea of a professor AU and a New Year's Eve party, and when I say I took that and ran with it...😳

I am MORE than happy to yap about this AU forever, but really all you need to know for this is that everyone's teaching at a small, liberal arts college in Boston. A/gatha was hired as an English professor, but now mostly teaches American history through literature and print culture. R/io studied environmental science with a focus in botany and also poetry in school, and she took a pay cut specifically to teach at a school that would let her do both. Other than that, I feel like it's pretty self-explanatory. Enjoy!! <3

Please don't reblog to non-kink blogs! Minors DNI.

“So it’s not going to be a party,” Rio said. “At least not according to Lilia. But Alice and Jen will be there, and a few other faculty members and some of Lilia’s grad students, and Alice assured me there will be good food, lots of drinks, and probably karaoke if they can find a way to hook it up to Lilia’s TV. Sounds like it’ll be a good time.”

“Hmm,” Agatha hummed. Rio had her on speakerphone on her desk while she was tidying up her office, using the time that barely anyone was on campus to prep for the spring semester without anyone commenting on how many empty energy drink cans she was hauling out to the recycling bin.

“Well you know how I feel about karaoke,” Agatha said. Rio thought she heard the sound of her clearing her throat, but she chalked it up to static on the line. “But is Lilia actually inviting me or is this you asking me to come with you?”

“Both,” Rio said. “Lilia doesn’t have your number and she figured you wouldn’t be checking your work email over the holidays, so she asked me to ask you. And I would like it if you came with me.” Rio paused. “You know, if you want to.”

There was another little burst of noise on the line—this time it almost sounded like a sniffle—before Agatha spoke again.

“Well, I promised Nicky I’d take him to the parade and the fireworks at the Common tomorrow, but that’ll be over and done by eight.” Agatha paused and this time Rio was sure she heard a sniffle. “Let me talk to the kid next door, see if he can sit in after I put Nicky down and I’ll…”

Agatha trailed off, and Rio frowned.

“You’ll…?”

“Hh-hold on, I n-need—”

Rio could hear Agatha’s breath stutter, and then before she could even process what was happening, she heard what sounded like a poorly-stifled sneeze from a distance like Agatha was holding the phone away from her face.

“Bless you?” Rio still wasn’t a hundred percent sure she was hearing things right, but she still spoke loud enough for Agatha to hear and—she assumed—roll her eyes at. What she wasn’t expecting, though, was Agatha’s shaky voice when she brought the phone back.

“D-don’t,” she started. “I’m not…n-nah…not…hheh’EHTtschu!”

That was definitely, for sure a sneeze that time, and though Rio couldn’t see it, she could tell by the involuntary little groan that followed that Agatha wasn’t happy about it. Whether it was about sneezing in general or about Rio acknowledging it with another, more enthusiastic “Bless you!” was anyone’s guess.

“Ugh, sorry,” Agatha said after collecting herself again. “You were saying?”

“I think you were saying something about getting a babysitter? But, if you’re not feeling well we don’t have to—”

“I’m fine,” Agatha said firmly. “It’s just some gunk Nicky picked up somewhere. It’s probably just one of those twenty-four hour things, I’m sure I’ll be fine tomorrow.”

Rio was pretty sure that wasn’t how colds worked, but Agatha’s tone told her the topic was not up for discussion, and Rio didn’t feel like pressing the issue would be helpful. This was Agatha, after all.

Last spring when they’d first gotten paired up to teach an interdisciplinary studies course on floral symbolism in classic American literature and poetry, Agatha had neglected to inform Rio that she was horribly allergic to about half the flowers they’d be talking about, so Rio hadn’t thought twice about showing up to the very first class with a fresh arrangement of native wildflowers to sit on the podium between them as they took turns going over the syllabus.

Agatha had done an admirable job downplaying her reaction for most of the hour-long class, only stifling the occasional sneeze into near-silence over her shoulder, but the second class was dismissed, she’d dissolved into the single most dramatic, drawn-out fit Rio had ever seen, blushing furiously the whole time and still insisting she was fine when she could gather enough breath to speak.

Rio had run up to her own office to grab her own bottle of Zyrtec, sure the whole time that this was going to get the whole class cancelled, and her partnership with Agatha would be over before it had even properly begun. With the meds in her system, though, Agatha had pulled herself together shockingly quickly to teach her afternoon class, and to Rio’s surprise, not only did their joint class proceed as planned (after a serious, Rio-initiated discussion of what parts of the syllabus Agatha was and wasn’t allergic to—which Agatha was also blushing furiously through—and an Agatha-initiated tacit threat to never speak of the incident again), but Agatha had been grateful enough for Rio’s help to offer to repay the favor by taking her out to dinner.

One thing led to another, and now, nearly a year later, they were dating, all because Agatha was enough of a stubborn bitch about her allergies to not keep antihistamines on her.

Rio had never actually seen Agatha sick before, but she assumed she probably wouldn’t handle that much better.

“Hh-ITSchu!”

Another sneeze from Agatha drew Rio from her thoughts.

“Ble—”

“Not yet, I…he’ETshiu! Ugh, fuck.”

“Salud,” Rio said.

“Shut up,” Agatha grumbled. “I’m fine. Just let me talk to the kid next door. I would never say this to his face, but he’s a total loser, there’s no way he’s got plans. I gotta check if Hanukkah changes anything, but I’ll text you when I know?”

“Sounds good. Love you, and get some rest!”

She could practically hear Agatha roll her eyes before she shot back a, “Love you too,” and ended the call.

Not half an hour later, Rio’s phone lit up with a text from Agatha.

Teen’s free to babysit. Pick me up at 9?

It’s a date, she replied.

~**~

Agatha was already waiting on the front steps when Rio’s overpriced Uber pulled up in front of the elegant Beacon Hill brownstone. Her hair was down, falling in loose waves over her shoulders, and she was wearing lipstick­, which wasn’t unheard of, but the deep raspberry red shade of it made something in Rio’s brain short out, and suddenly her only thought was about how badly she wanted to fuck it up at midnight.

As she drew closer, though, she realized that the lipstick was a distraction—and a damn good one at that—from the subtle little signs of illness on the rest of her face. Her makeup was impeccable, but up close, Rio could see the shadows of dark circles under her eyes, the barely-there pinkish tint at the tip of her nose, the subtle crease in her foundation that showed just how often she'd been—

Right on cue, Agatha scrunched up her nose with a small sniffle, and judging by the way her hands twitched at her sides, she was really fighting the urge not to rub it. Rio would never say it out loud, but she was pretty sure it was one of the cutest things she’d ever seen.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hey, yourself,” Agatha said. Those raspberry lips twitched upwards, as Rio wrapped an arm around her waist and kissed her lightly on the cheek. Her skin felt a little warm for someone outside in the middle of winter. Rio couldn’t be confident it was high enough to be a fever, but she filed the thought away for later.

“So…,” Rio started as she pulled out her phone to look up Lilia’s address. “How were the fireworks?”

Agatha sighed heavily. “We didn’t end up staying. Nicky didn’t sleep well last night, which meant I didn’t sleep well last night, and we only made it halfway through the parade before he decided he wanted to go home.” Agatha sniffled and scrunched up her nose again. “Poor kid was practically falling asleep on his dino nuggets. I put him to bed and hh’he was out like a li-ihh­-light.”

The slight hitch of her breath drew Rio’s gaze upwards, and out of the corner of her eye, she could see Agatha scratching the bottom of her nose with her thumbnail.

“Oh poor thing,” Rio said, definitely not talking about Agatha; that would be ridiculous. “And how are you feeling? You sure you’re up for a wild party?”

Agatha rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “I think I can hiih-handle whatever Lilia’s got planned.”

“You sure?” Rio lowered her phone and met Agatha’s eyes. “Because we can just stay in, especially if you didn’t get much sleep last night. I hear they’re letting Andy and Anderson drink on CNN again this year, and we could do those Lego flowers from Christmas and just take it easy.”

Yeah, Rio thought to herself; that was a safe angle to approach it from. Asking outright if she was under the weather was a surefire way to get her to dig her heels in deeper, and while Rio was pretty sure that was going to happen anyway, she wanted to make sure Agatha knew she had an out if she wanted it.

As Rio had predicted though, Agatha shook her head.

“No,” she said. “I’m fine. I already missed the baby fireworks, and I don’t even remember the last time I got to go out for New Year’s, so I’m not missing this.” She punctuated her statement by audibly clearing her throat, and she glared at Rio for noticing. “And I feel fine,” she snapped. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“Ok,” Rio raised one hand in a mock surrender. “In that case, it looks like we have a choice between a pretty straightforward thirty minute walk, or we can take an Uber that’ll shave a whole five minutes off that time for…” she refreshed her app and her eyes widened in shock as she wordlessly showed Agatha the inflated price on the screen. “Suddenly I’m thinking it’s a great night for a walk. What about you?”

When she didn’t get an answer right away, Rio glanced up from her phone and took in the dazed look that had settled over Agatha’s features, the way those raspberry lips parted, one hand hovering in front of her mouth as her she scrunched up her nose once more in vain before—“hiET’SHhiew—‘ITSHhyu!” She aimed both sneezes into her elbow at the last second and then sniffled wetly as she rummaged around in her purse for…who the fuck still carried handkerchiefs in the twenty-first century?

“Bless you, bless you,” Rio said lightly, as Agatha blew her nose once, dabbing lightly at her nostrils to keep from completely destroying her foundation. Rio couldn’t help but notice that once she was done, she shoved the handkerchief in her pocket instead of putting it back in her purse.

 “Thanks,” Agatha muttered. “How long did you say the walk was?”

“Google says thirty minutes.”

Agatha gave a haughty sniff as she tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Closer to twenty if you walk like you live here,” she said. “I vote we do that.”

There was a part of Rio that thought about protesting further, but she knew it wouldn’t do any good, and besides that, Agatha was a grown woman who could listen to her own body. If she wanted to push herself for the sake of a stupid work party then who was Rio to stop her? And also, Rio selfishly really did want to mess up that lipstick against a backdrop of fireworks.

“Alright,” she sighed. “In that case, vamanos.”

With a swish of her long coat, Agatha set off down the block at such a pace that Rio had to jog to catch up.

~**~

Lilia lived on the top floor of a refurbished tenement building in the North End that was all decorative brick work and copper patina on the outside, with an interior that looked authentically pre-war. Which war exactly was anyone’s guess, but Rio was putting money on Civil.

The chilly night air had made both of their noses run, and they paused in front of the elevator to collect themselves. Rio pulled the sleeve of her sweater over her hand and swiped briefly at her nose. Agatha, on the other hand, took a bit longer to recover.

She’d been mostly alright on the walk over as far as Rio could tell—the fresh air really had seemed to be a good move—but now that they were back inside the dry heat of the building, it was clearly taking Agatha a second to gather herself. She had her handkerchief out and was running it on one finger under her eyes and around her nostrils, but her nose, it seemed had other ideas.

Her breath hitched once, twice, and she tipped her head back, her mouth just open enough that Rio could see she was pressing her tongue to the roof of her mouth to try to hold it back. It wasn’t enough, though, and Agatha let out a particularly vocal gasp right before she pitched forward with an itchy-sounding “hiih’IIShu!”

“Bless you,” Rio said.

“Ugh, thanks,” Agatha grumbled. “Must be the temperature change. I’m fine.”

She at least had the decency to flush as Rio eyed her skeptically, but before Rio could say anything else, Agatha was slipping the handkerchief back in her pocket, sliding open the metal grille in front of the elevator, and waving Rio inside.

“Can you just promise me something?” Rio asked as the elevator groaned and shuddered its way upwards. Agatha didn’t say anything, but she side-eyed Rio curiously. Rio took a deep breath and flexed her fingers at her sides as she said, “Promise me if you reach a point where you want to leave tonight for any reason you’ll tell me?”

“I’m—”

“I know you’re fine,” Rio said. “And I’ll let you be the judge of your own body. I’m just telling you that if you want an out you’ve got one, no questions asked.”

Agatha considered her words for a moment. Her lips were pressed in a thin line as she ran her tongue along the inside of her cheek, and then she sighed.

“Alright,” she said quietly. “Thank you.”

“Any time.”

The elevator jolted to a stop and they stepped out into a long hallway. There was music and laughter and a scent that Rio could only identify as ‘miscellaneous party food’ wafting from their left.

“I’m gonna take a wild guess that Lilia’s that way,” she said. She glanced over at Agatha who just tossed her hair over her shoulder, cleared her throat, and sniffed once more before nodding in the direction of the sound.

“Shall we?”

Rio hesitated for just a moment, captivated by the way Agatha’s mask slid so smoothly into place. She had hardly realized just how much she got to see when they were alone until suddenly she was faced with the Agatha that was ready to actually walk into the party.

The little signs were still there: the way that her foundation was starting to separate and smudge around the tip of her nose, the way her lips parted ever so slightly so that she could breathe without the air catching audibly on the building congestion in her sinuses.  It was an impressive performance. Frankly if Rio hadn’t seen evidence to the contrary, she might have even believed Agatha’s little act.

Of course, the fact that she had gotten to see that evidence to the contrary at all—even if Agatha was denying it the whole time—was also not lost on Rio. It made her stupid, lovesick heart flutter in her chest just realizing that Agatha trusted her that much. It was also mildly annoying knowing that it would be that much harder to tell if Agatha reached her limit tonight, but they’d cross that bridge when they came to it.

She must have lingered a bit too long, though, because Agatha noticed she wasn’t following and raised an eyebrow at her.

“Are you okay?” she asked, looking pointedly at Rio’s hands.

Rio hadn’t even noticed that she was fluttering her fingers at her sides, but the sudden awareness made her stop and flex her hands.

“Yeah,” she said. “Let’s do this.”

Rio reached the door at the end of the hall first and knocked right below the brass 4F affixed to it. When no one answered right away, Agatha tried the knob and found that it was already unlocked. She glanced at Rio with a shrug before pushing it all the way open and leading the way inside. 

Rio's first impression upon stepping into Lilia's space was that it perfectly answered the question, "What if an eccentric gender studies professor with a fortune-telling side hustle had lived in the same rent-controlled apartment since the 70s?" which wasn't a question Rio had been asking, but it was nice to have an answer nonetheless. The entry way led into a spacious living room filled with squashy, mismatched furniture. Decorative lamps on various surfaces gave the room a soft, warm glow, and there were tapestries and artwork covering nearly inch of exposed wall. It was inviting and a little overwhelming in the same way that Lilia herself could be and Rio found that she kind of liked it.

Her second impression was that she and Lilia definitely had different ideas of what "not a party" meant. There were far more people than she had expected here. She vaguely recognized some other faculty members and a few of Lilia’s grad students and TAs who hung out around her office a lot, but she was only halfway through her second year of teaching, so there were still more unfamiliar faces than familiar ones.

"Soo…," Agatha started, leaning close to Rio's ear as she slipped out of her coat, "Are we sure that Lilia understands what a party is?”

Rio bit back a laugh as the hostess in question rounded the corner. “Did I hear a knock? I thought I—oh, Rio, you came!”

Before Rio could react, Lilia swept forward and enveloped her in a brief, but warm hug that had Agatha pressing herself flat against the wall to stay out of the way.

“Oh, I’m so glad you were able to make it,” Lilia said. It wasn’t until she stepped back that she seemed to notice Agatha. Something flickered behind her eyes for a fraction of a second before her wide smile was back in place. “Agatha, it’s nice to finally see you outside of the office for a change. Did you two come together?”

“Sort of,” Agatha said at the same instant Rio said, “Kind of.”

Lilia raised an eyebrow, and Rio glanced over at Agatha who was starting to get a sort of dazed look in her eyes, so Rio quickly took over.

“We split an Uber,” she said. “Those holiday prices are crazy, but if the alternative is the green line on New Year’s…” she trailed off with a shrug and an eye roll, and that seemed to be good enough for Lilia. Or at least, if she had further suspicions, she was good enough not to voice them.

Out of the corner of her eye, Rio could see Agatha bring her hand in front of her mouth in a loose fist, her thumb resting along her jaw and her first finger pressed against the bottom of her nose. It wasn’t entirely out of the ordinary—one thing about Agatha, the woman was always touching her face—but Rio guessed from the way Agatha scrunched up her nose that it was a little more practical at the moment.

Rio was about to come up with some excuse to try to shoo Lilia away, when someone else called her name from elsewhere in the apartment. Lilia glanced in the direction of the voice and sighed.

“I suppose I should go see what all the fuss is about,” she said. "You two feel free to make yourselves at home. There's food in the dining room, drinks in the kitchen, and I think someone brought some..." she mimed smoking a joint as she trailed off, and Agatha snorted. "If you want to do that, though, just do me a favor and take it outside or on the fire escape. The scent lingers in here like nothing else.”

“Understood,” Rio said.

Lilia gave a satisfied nod before turning on her heel and disappearing back into the festivities.

Rio turned towards Agatha just in time to see her shove her face into her bunched up coat and muffle a forceful sneeze into it. She came up for air with a slightly dazed look on her face, her mouth still open in preparation, but after a long moment of anticipation, nothing else happened. Agatha exhaled with an angry huff and hung her coat up on an empty hanger.

Rio did the same after her, except she nearly dropped the hanger when Agatha suddenly swore behind her. Rio whirled around just in time to see Agatha crush her nose between her thumb and forefinger as she pitched forward with a pair of stifled sneezes that were nearly silent save for a soft, choked off little gasp.

 Rio almost felt a little guilty for it, but she couldn’t help noticing just how different these cold sneezes were from Agatha’s allergic fits. It was a strange thing to think about, but with her allergies, Agatha seemed to have some semblance of control, at least at the start. The tickle tended to be a slower, more torturous build that Agatha was shockingly good at hiding, and the sneezes themselves started off as soft, tickly little things that she was scary-good at keeping quiet. This cold, by contrast, seemed to keep her on her toes, sneaking up on her and then backing off just to come back with a vengeance, and Agatha was clearly already getting frustrated.

Agatha released her nose with a heavy sigh and a wet sniffle, and when she noticed Rio looking at her, she frowned.

“What?” she snapped.

“Nothing,” Rio said. “Bless you.”

That seemed to soften Agatha around the edges for a moment, and she muttered a quiet, “Thanks,” before she brushed past Rio into rest of the apartment. “Let’s find the kitchen,” she said. “I don’t know about you, but I could use a drink.”

Rio rolled her eyes, but followed along anyway. It was less than two and a half hours to New Year’s, but she had a feeling it was going to be a long night.

~**~

When Lilia had said there were drinks in the kitchen, Rio had expected champagne, some prosecco, maybe some kind of fancy Italian wines and some seltzers in the fridge for the grad students. What she hadn’t expected was a downright undergrad-rager amount of boxed wine and a rainbow of Jell-O shots, but now that she was looking at the spread, she realized that yeah, actually, this kind of tracked.

There was indeed an array of random seltzers and cheap beer in the fridge along with a couple of bottles of something bubbly with sticky notes on them warning that they were not to be touched until midnight. Rio grabbed a mango White Claw and turned around to see Agatha debating between the wine and the shots like it was a matter of life and death. After a moment, she reached a compromise with herself in the form of downing a purple Jell-O shot and then immediately grabbing a plastic cup to fill with room-temperature Franzia, because sure, why not?

“Hey, Rio, you made it!”

Rio spun around to see Alice approaching with a beer in hand and a bright smile on her face.

“Of course,” Rio said. “I wouldn’t miss it!” She took a sip of her seltzer and surveyed the room. “Although there are a lot more people than I expected when Lilia told me specifically that this wasn’t a party.”

“That’s Lilia for you,” Alice said. “Anything less than a full-on rager doesn’t count as a party to her. But for what it’s worth, it’ll probably start to clear out by 11:30ish. Most people just use this as a rest stop for a bit and then walk to the waterfront to catch the fireworks. But they’re missing out because that’s usually about when Lilia gets stoned enough to break out the oracle cards and that’s worth sticking around for.”

“Sounds like fun.” Rio hadn’t even heard Agatha come up behind her, but there she was eyeing Alice over the rim of her plastic cup of cheap wine. “When do we break out the Ouija board and start telling ghost stories?”

“Oh hey, Agatha,” Alice said. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other as she glanced from Rio to Agatha and back again like she was trying to connect some invisible dots. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Yeah, good to see you too,” Agatha said flatly. She took a long sip of her wine, and she held her cup in front of her face a second longer than strictly necessary to block her nose from view as it twitched just the slightest bit. A tense moment passed where Rio couldn’t tell if Agatha was actually going to sneeze or not, but she recovered quickly, lowering her cup and shouldering past Rio towards the dining room. “I’m gonna get some food.”

“Ok, bye, Agatha,” Alice said drily. She shot Rio a look. “I didn’t know you two…”

She trailed off, and the implied ellipsis hanging off Alice’s words felt like a set trap for Rio to walk into. She’d had the feeling that her officemates were starting to suspect something for a while—from the sounds of it there was even a betting pool now—but Rio wasn’t going to give anyone the satisfaction of knowing that easily.

It wasn’t so much that they were trying to keep it a secret—sneaking around like teenagers wasn’t really all it cracked up to be when they were both parties involved were closer to fifty than fifteen—but with a kid in the mix, and Rio being so new, and Agatha’s…well, being Agatha, they just…never really cared to make a grand announcement to their colleagues. At some point it would come out, that much they both knew, but for now it was still sort of thrilling to have such a secret that was theirs and theirs alone.

So it was with all of that in mind, that Rio managed to say, “Lilia’s the one who invited her.” She took a swig of her seltzer and wished she had grabbed something harder. “We just split an Uber here.”

“Ah, sure,” Alice said. “It’s just funny; Lilia’s been trying to get her to come to stuff for years now, but this is the first time she’s actually shown. I wonder what changed.”

“Yeah,” Rio mused as she watched Agatha disappear around a corner. “I wonder.”

“Ok, well…” Alice bounced on the balls of her feet and clapped her hands together as she took a slow step back. “I need to track down an HDMI cord to try to set up karaoke, but I’ll be around.”

“I’ll see you,” Rio said.

She gave Alice a half-hearted wave and then followed Agatha’s trail into the cramped dining room where she found Agatha trapped in conversation with a short woman with a neat blonde bob who Rio vaguely recognized from the…admissions office? Student life? Something like that.

Whatever they were talking about, Agatha hardly seemed to be in the mood for it, but the woman clearly wasn’t taking the hint. Agatha had her hand in front of her face again, the knuckle of her first finger moving slowly back and forth under her nose as she nodded absently, her attention clearly more on her nose than her conversation partner.

If Rio had felt a little guilty about watching before, she felt downright voyeuristic now. From the corner of the doorway, Rio had a perfect view of Agatha’s profile, and she watched with rapt attention as Agatha managed to wrestle the tickle back long enough to interject.

“That sounds great, Sharon, but you see, the problem is that I don’t want to, so…” she trailed off with a contemptuous, open-handed shrug, and the woman—Sharon, apparently—just laughed.

“Oh, I’ll get you one of these days!” She wagged a finger playfully in Agatha’s direction before glancing down at her empty cup. “I’m gonna get some more wine, but I’ll email you once we get back on campus!”

“I’ll delete it,” Agatha called after her in a mocking tone.

She waited until Sharon was safely out of the room before whirling around and coughing into her elbow. She recovered quickly enough, but kept her arm in front of her face for a moment too long. Rio could see her shoulders tense and then release as she smothered a trio of sneezes against her sleeve, each tripping over the next like they had taken umbrage at being held back for so long. “Hiih’TSHh!-h’TSHh-TCHhu!”

“Bless you,” Rio said.

Agatha startled at the sound of her voice and spun around to glare at her.

“I’m fine,” Agatha said through gritted teeth.

“I didn’t even ask.”

“Well you were thinking it and that’s bad enough,” Agatha snapped.

Her voice was starting to take on a more noticeably-congested edge, and Rio found herself wondering if she’d have to put her foot down at some point. Either Agatha was a better liar than Rio had thought if she had been feeling this bad this whole time, or she was going downhill faster than Rio had assumed she would, and frankly Rio wasn’t sure which was worse.

“Is this where the…oh. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

Rio and Agatha both spun around to find Jennifer Kale smirking at them from the doorway like she very much hoped she was, in fact, interrupting something.

“You wish,” Agatha growled. “What do you want, Jen?”

“Maybe to socialize?” Jen said slowly like she was trying to explain the concept to a child. “At a social event? Although I can’t imagine you have much experience with those.”

“Can it, Kale,” Agatha snapped. She took a long sip of her wine and shouldered past Jen on her way back into the kitchen. “I’m not in the mood.”

“Nice to see you too, Agatha!” Jen called after her. She turned back to Rio and rolled her eyes. “You really can’t take her anywhere, can you?”

The question felt equal parts loaded and rhetorical, and given Jen’s…history with Agatha, Rio figured her safest option was to plead the fifth. She ignored Jen’s pointed smirk and took another long drink of her seltzer.

“Well, forget her,” Jen said. “I was actually hoping to run into you here. I heard back from my mother about those old Home Garden magazines we were talking about? She found some of my grandmother’s old issues, and she said she’ll send them out to me next week. I can bring them into the office when they get here if you want to go through them.”

“Oh, sweet!”  Rio had been working for most of the fall on a proposal for a class on Victory Gardens and the development of urban home gardening, and some of the earliest primary sources had proven to be a bit of a bitch to track down. “Yeah, I’ll be in and out of the office the next few weeks before the semester starts, but I’d love to get my hands on anything you’ve got.”

“Cool,” Jen said. “I’ll keep you posted.” She gave Rio a soft smile and looked like she was about to say something else, but Rio took the pause as an excuse to slip away.

“I’m gonna go mingle a bit more. You know, network or whatever, but I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah,” Jen said. “Yeah, I’ll see you.”

Rio grabbed a star-shaped sugar cookie off a platter at the end of the dining table and popped it into her mouth as she slipped out into the living room before Jen could say anything else.

Agatha was across the room, in another tense conversation with a woman Rio definitely recognized from the library, but she couldn’t quite place the name. Dottie? Sarah, maybe? Either way, Agatha saw Rio looking and shot her a sharp glare. Rio took the hint and headed over to where Alice was fussing with Lilia’s ancient CRT TV.

It turned out it didn’t even have an HDMI port, which meant the karaoke idea was getting nixed, but after a little bit of snooping in the cabinet underneath, Rio found a dusty plug-and-play joystick with a collection of old arcade games that was still in working order, and it only took a few rounds of Frogger before a full-on tournament broke out.

Rio lost sight of Agatha as a small crowd started to gather around the TV, but despite that, if she was being honest, she was kind of actually starting to have a good time. As the clock ticked ever closer to midnight, the crowd did in fact start to thin out, and those who were left were mostly reaching a pleasant state of being under their influence of choice. Conversation and laughter flowed easily, and Rio found herself suitably distracted from worrying about Agatha.

That was, at least, until she caught sight of Agatha slipping away from the rest of the party, making a beeline for the bathroom down the hall with her hand against her face.

That got Rio distracted enough that she ran Ms. Pacman straight into a pixelated ghost to a collective groan from her audience, but Rio found herself not really caring. She passed the joystick off to Alice who was going for the high score on Galaga, and picked her way out of the crowd.

“You good?” Jen asked.

“Yeah,” Rio said. “I’m just gonna grab another drink.”

She headed into the kitchen and grabbed another seltzer—a wild berry Truly this time—and made a pit stop in the dining room to grab a couple of those sugar cookies in a napkin before following Agatha’s path down the hall towards the bathroom. She was barely halfway to the door when she heard the unmistakable sounds of Agatha…well, struggling.

“Hih-TSSHhiu! Heihh-hhETshiw!” Rio heard what she assumed was a hand slamming down hard on the edge of the sink, followed by harsh fit of coughing that only seemed to feed back into the cycle as Agatha paused just long to inhale sharply before—“HHET’Sshiu! Motherfucker!”

“Agatha?” Rio knocked lightly on the door with her knuckle. “It’s just me. You ok?”

“F-fuck off,” Agatha growled. Her voice was really starting to go now—it sounded low and scratchy, cracking between syllables—and though she made a point of turning on the water in the sink, Rio could still hear her sniffling miserably.

“Agatha, come on, don’t do this to yourself.”

She got no response to that, presumably because Agatha knew that her voice wasn’t helping her case at this point. Rio checked the time on her phone; it was after eleven now. If she’d known a few hours ago that this was where they were going to end up, she’d have put her foot down at the start. She should have pushed harder when Agatha was still malleable. Now it felt like she was talking to a brick wall. Or a closed wooden door, she supposed.

Just as she was about to get up to go back to the party, she heard Agatha clear her throat.

“If I’b bothering you so mbuch you can just fucki’g leave,” she snapped.

“Agatha, that’s not…” Rio trailed off as Agatha’s words actually hit her.

Oh.

So that’s what this was all about.

“Listen,” Rio said. “I’m not leaving you. Not because of the party and definitely not because you’re sick. You’re kind of fucking stuck with me whether you like it or not, and I’ll give you space, but I’m not leaving you. Take as much time as you need. I’m heading back out to the living room, but I’ll be here for you whenever you’re ready.”

The water stopped running and Rio could hear Agatha sniffle again. She didn’t say anything, but then again, she didn’t really have to. It was enough just for Rio to know she was actually listening. As she started to turn away, she suddenly remembered the cookies in her hand.

“Oh, and I brought you a little something to eat. They’re right out here if you want them.”

There was a narrow little table with a collection of candles and crystals next to the bathroom door, and Rio set the napkin-wrapped cookies on edge before she headed back down the hallway. When she reached the end, she heard the bathroom door open and shut, and when she turned around, the cookies were gone.

~**~

By 11:30, the party was smaller, but rowdier than ever. Lilia, who had been out on the fire escape more than once, was giggling her way through a tarot reading for Jen over the arm of the other couch. There was music blasting from someone’s phone, and a cheer went up as Alice finally broke her high score. Everyone that was left was talking or laughing, and it was easy enough for Rio to slip back into the fray and plop herself on an overstuffed couch cushion without so much as a glance her way.

The minutes seemed to drag by impossibly slow. 11:45 turned to :50, turned to :55, and Rio was starting to think she might have to press her luck and check on Agatha again when she felt a hand on her shoulder, and speak of the devil, there she was. Her hair obscured most of her face so Rio couldn’t get a great look at her, but she tapped Rio’s shoulder and nodded towards the fire escape, and that was all Rio needed to scramble to her feet and follow her.

There was no one out there at this time of night; everyone left was inside, watching reluctantlyas Alice unplugged the game and tuned the TV in to the Times Square ball drop. Agatha slipped out the open window onto the metal platform, and before Rio could even process what they were doing, Agatha grabbed the railing of the narrow stairs leading up towards the roof and started to climb.

“Ok, not that I’m not glad you’re out here again, but what are the fuck are you doing?” Rio asked, trying not to notice just how high above the city streets they were.

Agatha paused and looked back at her. “I wa’t to watch the fireworks.”

She said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, like it had been her plan this whole time, and though Rio hated the thought of setting foot on those narrow, creaking stairs, she had to admit that, yeah, she very much did want to watch the fireworks too.

She followed Agatha, and they both scrambled over the lip at the top. After the hazy warmth of Lilia’s apartment, the chill breeze was a welcome change, and Rio had to admit, the view was nice from up here. Rio checked the time on her phone. Two minutes to midnight, and she swore could feel it in the air.

“You don’t have to kiss mbe or adythi’g,” Agatha said. “I just thought this mbight be dice.”

Ninety seconds to midnight.

“Would you stop me if I did?” Rio asked.

Agatha scoffed. “You’d really risk catchi’g this?”

“What can I say?” Rio shrugged. “I’m feeling lucky this year.”

“But I’b gross.”

Rio pressed her cold hand against Agatha’s fever-warm cheek—oh yeah, she was definitely going downhill—and guided her gaze up so she could take her first good look at Agatha’s face in the moonlight.

Agatha’s bright blue eyes were watering so badly it looked like she was crying, and though her mascara had held up valiantly for the last few hours, it was starting to smudge in earnest now. The makeup around her nose was a patchy mess, clinging to the dry, reddened skin where it hadn’t been rubbed off entirely. Her lipstick had honestly held up surprisingly well, although the edges were starting to get fuzzy. All of that coupled with her irritated frown as she sniffled and wrinkled her nose again made her look so pathetically adorable that Rio could almost melt.

“See that’s the funny thing,” Rio said. “You’re saying gross, but all I’m seeing is the most beautiful woman in the world.”

Agatha blushed furiously, but she let Rio pull her closer.

Ten seconds to midnight.

The air was humming with electric energy. Rio was sure there was nowhere else on earth she’d rather be.

Five!

They could hear the countdown from all directions.

Four!

Agatha swore as her nose twitched and she aimed a loud “Hh-ITShoo!” into her shoulder.

Three!

Agatha sniffled and wiped her nose on her sleeve.

Two!

“Last cha’dce to back out.”

One!

Rio smirked. “Not on your life.”

Happy New Year!

All at once, the city erupted around them, but Rio hardly paid it any mind as her lips met Agatha’s, waiting and eager, and for a moment, they were the only two people in the world. Rio could taste the artificial vanilla of Agatha’s lipstick, could feel Agatha’s poor, abused nose against her cheek as she tangled her fingers in Agatha’s hair and savored absolutely everything about the moment.

Agatha was the first to turn away, gasping for breath that couldn’t break through the wall of congestion in her nose, but she didn’t pull away from Rio’s arms.

They stayed like that for a long moment, foreheads pressed together as the fireworks over the water lit up the night sky around them.

“Rio?” Agatha finally croaked.

“Yeah, love?”

 “I dod’t feel very well,” Agatha said. She let her shoulders drop and rested her head on Rio’s shoulder so that her next words came out even softer. “I thigk I’b ready to leave ndow.”

“Oh, you are, huh?”

Agatha nodded weakly against Rio’s neck. Rio bit back a chuckle and carded her fingers through Agatha’s hair, which just made Agatha press closer. She was for sure running a fever now, but Rio didn’t think she needed to say that part out loud.

The fireworks were starting to die down now. The city that slept by 10pm was already quieting again, and a cool breeze blew across the rooftop, making them both shiver. That was enough to finally spur Rio into action. Despite Agatha’s low whine of protest, Rio took a step back, and reached into Agatha’s pocket to find her crumpled handkerchief. She offered it to Agatha who rolled her rheumy eyes, but accepted it gratefully and set about wiping away the tear tracks and the smudged eye makeup. There wasn’t much she could do for her foundation at this point, but after a moment she managed to pull herself back to some semblance of her usual self.

“Ready?”

“H-hold on.” Agatha held up one finger as she inhaled a shaky breath. Her eyes fluttered shut, her lips parted, and she stayed like that for a long moment, before—

Fuck, I lost it.” Agatha scrubbed at her nose with the crumpled handkerchief in frustration before flipping her hair over her shoulder and following Rio to the edge of the roof to step gingerly back onto the fire escape.

The party was well and truly winding down now, but those that were left seemed occupied with champagne and company, so no one seemed to notice when Rio and Agatha slipped back inside. For a second, Rio almost thought they could make a clean break for it. They’d grab their coats and slip outside, and Rio would text Lilia a brief goodbye once they were in the Uber back to Agatha’s place.

That kind of luck didn’t seem to be on their side, though, because Lilia caught them as they passed the kitchen doorway.

“Oh, Rio, are you leaving?”

Rio stopped dead in her tracks like she’d been caught sneaking in after curfew. She could feel Agatha stiffen and clear her throat next to her.

“Oh, uh, yeah,” Rio said with a nervous glance at Agatha. “It’s getting late and—”

“I have to let the babysitter go,” Agatha chimed in. “Rio offered to split a car.”

Her voice was fading in earnest now, but Rio noticed how carefully she was choosing her words so at least she didn’t sound too congested on top of it. Her explanation seemed to be enough for Lilia, who smiled at them both.

“Well, get home safe,” she said. “Happy New Year! And Agatha, I hope you feel better soon!”

Agatha’s jaw dropped and she looked like she was contemplating homicide or suicide or both, but Rio just gave her a shove in the direction of the door and gave Lilia a soft “Happy New Year,” and a shy wave in return.

She grabbed both of their coats out of the closet with one hand while she pulled up Uber on her phone with the other. No way they were doing that walk again tonight.

“Ok, driver’ll be here in three minutes,” Rio said.

When Agatha didn’t respond right away, Rio looked up to see her frozen in pre-sneeze torture, her lips parted, eyelashes fluttering, brows knitting together as she took a breath in, and then—

“Oh fuck mbe!” Agatha scowled and pinched the bridge of her nose hard.

“Oh, pobrecita,” Rio breathed. “Let’s get you home.”

Agatha rolled her eyes, but before she could say anything, the lost sneeze snuck back up on her with a vengeance just as Jen and Alice passed by on their way to the kitchen.

“HHT’SCHiu!”

“Bless you, Agatha!”

“Fuck off, Jen!” Agatha called back.

With that, she flipped her hair over her shoulder, held her flaming cheeks high, and stalked out of Lilia’s apartment, leaving Rio to call out a soft, “Happy New Year, guys!” before jogging to catch up.

~**~

The ride back to Agatha’s place was short and quiet, and even though she hadn’t strictly been invited, Rio followed Agatha inside where Agatha paid the babysitter, kicked off her shoes, and tossed her coat in the vague direction of the coatrack before throwing herself down onto the couch in the parlor.

Rio had been in Agatha’s house more than a few times, but this—Agatha being this miserable in her own home—was new enough territory that she wasn’t quite sure what to do with herself. She shed her own coat and shoes, and picked up Agatha’s so at least they wouldn’t be a tripping hazard later, and returned to stand behind the couch.

Agatha had one hand dangling towards the floor and the other over her eyes like if she blocked her vision, she could pretend the night had gone differently.

“So,” Rio started carefully. “What are you thinking? Do you want me to stay?”

Agatha moved the hand over her face and looked up at Rio with red, watery, exhausted eyes.

“I cad take care of byself,” she said.

“I know you can. That’s not what I’m asking.” Rio leaned over the back of the couch and reached one hand down to brush a lock of hair out of Agatha’s face, curling it gently around her finger. “Do you want me to stay?”

“You’ll get sick,” Agatha whined.

“Again, not what I’m asking. And for what it’s worth, you did have your tongue in my mouth less than an hour ago, so I’m pretty sure that ship has sailed.”

Agatha started to laugh, but it quickly turned into a cough that only seemed to irritate her nose as she quickly brought her hands up to cover an itchy sneeze. “hH-IItschu!”

“Salud, baby.”

“Thagks,” Agatha grumbled. She sniffled wetly and wiped her nose roughly on her sleeve. “Ugh, feel gross! I hate bei’g sick.”

Rio bit back a laugh. “I don’t think most people really enjoy it.” She had moved from playing with Agatha’s hair to scratching lightly at her scalp. Agatha’s eyes fell closed and she moaned into Rio’s touch.

“Let me ask a different way,” Rio said. “Do you want me to leave?”

Agatha’s eyes opened again, and when she looked up at Rio with her flushed cheeks and her sniffly nose, Rio felt like she could melt into a puddle on the spot. The flush in Agatha’s cheeks deepened as she slowly shook her head no.

“Ok,” Rio said. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Shut up,” Agatha muttered without any bite.

“Ignoring that because you’re sick,” Rio said.  “Now what do you say we get you somewhere more comfortable than the couch so you can get some actual rest, hm?”

It took a few more minutes of gentle prodding from Rio to get Agatha to her feet and up the stairs, but once she was moving, she seemed to be able to handle herself. She poked her head into Nicky’s room before heading to her own room to change while Rio busied herself digging around in the bathroom medicine cabinet.

All Agatha seemed to have was a bottle of Advil, a box of Zyrtec, and a mostly-empty bottle of grape-flavored children’s cold medicine that was missing the measuring cup. Rio vowed to make a supply run in the morning, but for now, the Advil was probably better than nothing. She filled a glass with water from the sink, and then grabbed the allergy meds for good measure and headed for Agatha’s bedroom.

Agatha had already changed into an oversized t-shirt with an ambiguous number three on it, and a pair of worn flannel shorts that were practically indecent. She’d pulled her hair into a loose bun, and she was just finishing wiping off the last of her makeup with a wipe that she tossed carelessly in the direction of the trash can. It missed by a long shot, but Rio thought it was cute that she’d tried.

“Here,” Rio said, holding out the water and two ibuprofen tablets. “You didn’t have much, but this should help keep your fever down.” Agatha took the meds and washed them down without protest, and Rio offered her the box of allergy meds. “I don’t know if these’ll do much, but they might at least take the edge off until I can run out to the store tomorrow.”

Agatha’s cheeks flushed a deeper pink. “About that…”

“What are you…?” Rio trailed off as she pulled the blister pack out of the box and found it completely empty. “Why was this still in the cabinet if you knew it was empty?”

“To remind myself to buy more,” Agatha said like it was completely obvious and not actually one of the most ridiculous things Rio had ever heard.

“Ok, scratch that then.” Rio tossed the empty package into the trash can. “Do you want anything else?”

Agatha shook her head as she set her water on the nightstand.

“Just hurry up and c’mere,” she said, making grabby hands in Rio’s general direction. It was quite possibly the cutest thing Rio had ever seen, and she wiggled out of her nice jeans and into a spare set of pajamas as fast as she could so she could crawl under the covers with Agatha, who immediately attached herself to Rio’s side.

“I’b sorry I was a bitch earlier,” Agatha mumbled.

Rio chuckled as she leaned her cheek against the top of Agatha’s head. “Lucky for you, I kind of like it when you’re a bitch, because I know you don’t mean it.” Agatha grumbled something unintelligible against her neck, but Rio continued, “And because the sooner you get being a bitch out of your system, the sooner we get to do this.”

“Love you,” Agatha mumbled sleepily.

“Y yo a ti, mi amor,” Rio said. She reached back to turn off the lamp on the bedside table and then pressed her lips against Agatha’s warm forehead as she settled back down.

Agatha was already out, her breathing coming in congested little snores that made Rio’s lips twitch into a smile as she felt her own eyes growing heavy. Her last conscious thought before she slipped into sleep herself was that there was nowhere else on earth she’d rather be starting the new year.

[sysig]

can i ask for larry and kabu.... is it allowed......... if not i can ask for something else lol

Day 2 - Warm feelings

[kacievvbbbb]

I feel like the main reason this evil shanks theory is so prevalent (besides the private meeting the the gorsei which up even I can’t explain) is that his general cheeriness and lackadaisical disposition is more of a presented front, a mask to be slipped on and off at will which would be fine if he weren’t often put in the same boat as Roger and Luffy two people ( for as much as we know about roger) who have no masks at all.

Don’t get me wrong I’m pretty sure that Shanks is a naturally happy, good natured dude but he’s also the most politically minded pirate we have seen on the show (and some of these pirates were actual politicians) like I’m pretty sure Roger is more mature and secretive than Luffy ( makes sense he’s older and has seen more of the world) but with both of them you never get the sense that their silliness is something they are putting on for the direct purpose of making themselves less of a threat. They both can get serious when the situation calls for it but that feels more of an extension of their already established personality more than a hidden personality.

While with shanks it’s undeniable that something changed within him and his goals the day Roger died I don’t know if Roger actually told him something or if he just wasn’t dealing with the abandonment well it was probably a mix of both honestly. But yeah Shanks comes off as a guy with his ear to the ground someone who has schemes on schemes on schemes. he’s someone playing in the long run, kind of like crocodile but not nefarious. And when compared with a straight forward head first always kinda guy like Luffy, like he often is, he can come off a little suspicious.

There’s something that’s a little fake about his cheer, something a little too performative about his optimism and foolishness. I think it’s a mix of; he’s housing a deep sadness, he’s more of a realist that an optimist and also dudes just a pacifist unlike like luffy who loves to brawl ( like luffy knows when it’s better not to fight but he also loves a good fight) and he would rather deescalate a situation than fight it out and sometimes the easiest way to do that is with an air of cluelessness and making yourself seem less of a threat which makes it so much more jarring but effective when he reveals just how big a threat he is. but I can see why people think it’s suspicious.

(Interestingly even when luffy tries to emulate this behavior like when he first encountered Bellamy at the pub his plan is to just not react which while in the same vain is very different than Shanks actively playing the drunken good natured take it on the chin role for the bandits Luffy was still essentially himself he just refused to react while Shanks played a role which made it more terrifying and effective when he stopped)

Also it doesn’t help that until recently he’s largely been missing from the narrative with just a man echoing or a whisper here or there of how powerful he is.

But I think we should remember that Shank’s goal is essentially world peace. and peace, a true lasting peace, is just a little more of a precarious balancing act, than utmost freedom. For freedom you have to destroy the old game, for peace you have to learn to play a new one, hopefully with a bit more kindness injected into the foundation.