#Me when I like the doom girl who follows the doom boy and she will never appear in any media ever again

[no1ryomafan]

“Casshern is my favorite character” and then I proceed to make more gifs of Lyuze

Also the specific fic I’m writing is about her to so H E H

[wincore]

I faked my engagement for free cake samples and got sued after I ran away AIO | haechan

pairing: haechan x baker!reader

genre: comedy, fluff, rivals (?) to lovers (?)

warning(s): quite possibly you will be inflicted with cringe, shameless scamming, mild swearing, one (1) innuendo

words: 5.4k

song recs: santa doesn’t know you like i do by sabrina carpenter, too late for chocolate? by kana hanazawa, like a raspberry by 宇宙ネコ子, honey by kara

a/n: ty to my queens lana and cat for gassing up this dumpster fire i wrote in a caffeine haze while watching my bf die every 20 secs in ds3. the initial plot was going to be far longer and more fleshed out but i fear i'm past my prime ( ._. )" i still hope you guys have fun with this one!! i got to play around with hallmark comedy far more this time, so overall it was a fun time writing <3 happy new year, my lovely mooncakes!!

part of a nonsense christmas: reddit edition collab <3

r/AmITheAsshole

u/YeastMode6969 • 3h

I faked my engagement for free cake samples then got sued after I ran away. AIO?

I (24F, small bakery owner) faked my engagement to get free cake samples at my rival bakery but the employee said I needed my fiance to be there. I panicked and grabbed the first guy to come through the bakery door after me. Turns out he’s not just some random customer. To top it off, he was ridiculously attractive even though he pissed me off every two sentences. I had a panic attack, told myself it’s totally not my fault, and moved on by baking fourteen cakes over the weekend. I thought I got away with it, but three days later, I got an email from him—he’s now suing me for “emotional damages” and “theft of pastries.” Am I doomed, or is this just karma with extra frosting?

⥣ 7.7k ⥥ 2,701 Comments

bun_theory0222 • 2h

INFO: Did you at least try the samples? Were they worth the lawsuit? We’re all dying to know here.

➥ Reply ⥣ 3.2k ⥥

muffinbutdrama1122 • 1h

nah cuz why is he suing when he CLEARLY wants to flirt??? this man is embarrassing but so are you. somebody matched ur freak <3

➥ Reply ⥣ 1.7k ⥥

soggywaffle0205 • 6m

YTA why can’t this shit happen to me. AT LEAST I would commit to the bit.

➥ Reply ⥣ 420 ⥥

cerealfordinner0323 • 2h

Bro sued you just to slide into your life again. He’s not slick, and neither are you. Good luck with that wedding cake.

➥ Reply ⥣ 9,011 ⥥

. . .

If you could hop a few steps to the right, feign unconsciousness, and climb right into the active fireplace, it could potentially make everything okay. For you, that is. Not for the poor bakery employees who would have to call the cops. 

“I’m sure he’s a handsome one!” The girl behind the counter giggles, light pink dusting her cheeks. “You’re- you’re so gorgeous!”

Setting aside the fact that most gorgeous women you know end up with malformed gargoyles, your current predicament is almost equally sinister. What started as an innocuous process to gain free wedding samples (in other words, a scam) has led to a question that should be obvious but completely escaped your mind following your trailing success.

“We’ll need to have you come in with your fiance for the free wedding cake samplers. Is he around?”

Is he around?! Boy, you sure hope so. Because now you’re also frantically looking around with the employee after you blurted out another lie: “He’s going to be here soon!”

When did you turn into a compulsive liar? You’re not sure if your mom would be proud of you for being so good at nabbing free food, or disappointed that you’re a filthy liar. After all, she did tell the buffet employees you were under 10 all the way till you were 14. So, really, you’re not the source of the problem! You brush your festive red skirt of invisible crumbs, trying to busy yourself.

The cafe itself is well decorated for Christmas—a silver reindeer bores holes into your head from by the front door, a small Christmas tree stands at the center that’s a little emaciated but the cute Sanrio ornaments in Santa hats make up for it, and most importantly, a beautiful Mont Blanc cake sparkles from atop the glass counter. (Seriously, why didn’t you think of this? Your own bakery is all sparkles and no play.)

You move out of the way of other customers, and casually glance at the source of your awe and joy. Powdered sugar dusts the top as idyllic snow, covering the sugared cranberries and sugared chestnuts, not dent in them under the white fondant star. The base of the cake is tied with an edible red ribbon, completing the seasonal aesthetic of it. A sigh rests momentarily upon your lips before it escapes. 

You love Mont Blanc cakes, but you never quite get it right. That’s your biggest failure as an up-and-coming baker, and such is the reason for your unhinged serial sampling scam. You swear it started off as a search for inspiration in a creative rut but before you knew it, a lie had spilled from your eclair-sweetened lips, and another, and another. 

It is at this point that you briefly consider bolting for the door. Tibet is great around this time of the year. Maybe if you convert to a monk lifestyle and atone for your sins, you’ll be granted a pardon in the form of delicious sweets. Before you can make your escape, however, the front door jingles, and in strides a sight unbelievably reassuring. A man with caramel hair enters, who might as well be wrapped in a giant red ribbon and seated atop a snow-white horse in golden ornaments.

It’s a Christmas miracle. Hallelujah! They still apply to you.

His smile—soft and sweet as meringue hearts—lights up the room as he inhales the warm, sugary air of the bakery. You’re hit with the vaguest sense of familiarity. He might be one of the few customers you get these days. For a moment, you falter. Are you really going to victimize this stranger?

Yes. Yes, you are. The situation is dire.

“Hi darling!” You exclaim within earshot of the employee, before lowering your voice. “Could you help me out a little here?”

The man blinks, dazed for whatever reason. “Uh… sure?”

“Okay, then follow along and ask questions later,” you reply, and loop your arm through his gingerly. The touch of his fuzzy winter coat makes you relax a little. It is chocolate-colored, with beige fluff around the collar. Not now, you think to yourself, You need to stop thinking about sweets for one goddamn moment.

“Here he is,” you laugh sheepishly as you bring the man forward. Gosh, what in the heavens are you doing? You didn’t even ask his name. 

The employee stares, jaw agape. What’s with the reaction? He’s not that hot. 

“O-oh,” she responds. “That’s quite the surprise. I never knew. Congratulations, sir!”

You turn to look at him. He simply scratches his chin with a sheepish smile, and manages to respond with a “Thanks, Kimi.”

He must be a regular, you think. Oh, (Name), what did you get yourself into? You’re just gonna have to read his name off his coffee order first.

“We have a selection of samples for our wedding cake choices,” the girl, Kimi, moves to the far side of the counter, offering a small menu card to the two of you. “I know you’re not a big fan of wedding cakes, Mr. Lee, but the latest tiramisu flavors should suit your tastes, no?”

Just how close are they?! You chew on your lip and try to calm your depraved little heart.

“Well,” he responds, thinking for a second, “I actually hadn’t thought this far. What do you think, honey?”

He turns to you with a radiant smile, but you sense a hint of mischief. You don’t have time to think of that though—so you just change the topic. 

“Actually, do you have a Mont Blanc flavor? I’ve always had trouble perfecting it myself.”

Truth be told, that ‘honey’ had flowed from his lips and struck you straight in the heart. He’s not too bad to look at, you think now. His tousled hair catches the light with a playful sheen, framing his face and accentuating his disbelieving smile, while his fluffy coat adds a cozy touch to his charming, boyish demeanor. If you were to overthink a little, you’d find a hint of mischief in his voice. Alas, you’re a simple girl who only overthinks sweet treats, not boys.

“You bake?” He blurts, before his ears turn red from realization.

Kimi shoots him a puzzled look and your breath hitches in your throat. Was the miracle an idiot in disguise?

“I mean, uh, gosh, you make me so nervous, honey.” He looks like he’s trying his very best to ace an exam he never studied for. “I meant to ask if you're going to bake.. today? Don’t look at me like that.” 

Maybe you should’ve picked a candied apple and prayed that a witch had poisoned it. You can’t even force out a smile at that pathetic save.

“You’re a lucky man, Mister,” Kimi jabs, a look of distrust in her eyes before they flash to you. “I’m afraid Miss (Name) in a wedding dress would make me drop dead at the altar.”

“Oh, you- you flatter me,” you choke out, “I promise you wedding gowns aren’t my thing at all. Besides, you’d look beautiful in white yourself.”

Why is she so into this wedding conversation? How close are these two? You’re not sure how to react, and neither do you know how this man is going to explain your mysterious disappearance the next time he visits the bakery. You’re sure as hell not going to continue the act beyond this. It’s time you retired from this scam business. You’re not even sure how you’ll talk your way out of this with the man, currently engaged in small talk with Kimi. 

And— is he blushing?! Does he have something going on with the girl—Kimi? Did you just ruin something? Your heart tightens a little, and you have to physically restrain yourself from falling to the floor, head in your hands.

You laugh awkwardly, trying to diffuse the situation. When you open your mouth, you are interrupted.

“Actually, Miss, I think I take back what I said about the handsome part,” Kimi jokes, evident disdain sent towards Donghyuck.

Your natural response is a little laugh that leaves before you know it. Maybe, the feelings you sensed were of unrequited resentment. He does have the kind of face that looks like it’s often smacked by girls. No offense to him.

Kimi hands you the first sample (two delicious slices of Mont Blanc) and excuses herself to fetch the rest. The two of you make your way to a booth with the heaviest silence you’ve ever experienced. You might as well be at a funeral.

“So… free samples are that good, huh?” The man asks, raising an eyebrow. 

“Shut up,” you mutter. 

“I’m Donghyuck, by the way,” he responds with a youthful laugh. “Might I have the honor of knowing my fiance's name?”

“(Name). And stop looking at me like that.”

He lets out a short breath.

“You know, maybe we should’ve pretended it was an arranged marriage.”

“Quite proficient in the scamming business, are you?”

“Oh, you’re better off not knowing my dirty secrets.”

You couldn’t care less about his secrets but the look you shoot at him is certainly dirty.

He opens his mouth but you interrupt him to absolve yourself first. “Listen, I don’t do this often. And I’ll have you know it’s nothing personal. Well, not against you. The owner of this place maybe.”

Donghyuck blinks. “Oh? Do tell. I’m all for being a hater with my fiance.”

You stare at him, not impressed.

“Sorry.”

“Okay, so this started a month or two ago. I had been working tirelessly, testing recipe after recipe, trying to perfect the Mont Blanc cake. It was my dream to make it iconic, you know? But before I could even settle on the perfect combination of flavors, some smug bastard opens a bakery right across from me. And what does he have as his specialty? Why, the Mont Blanc cake of course. Seasonal! Cute, elaborate new decor every two weeks! Just how rich is he? I bet he doesn't even bother to create his own recipes. This guy didn’t just steal my idea, he’s turned my passion into some overpriced, generic trend!”

You heave, tired from the onslaught of frustration. Chewing on your lower lip, a pout naturally makes its way onto your face, and so do more complaints. 

“And that’s not all, okay? I never see him at the bakery. I refrain from entering my competitors' establishments unless I greet them in person. But this asshole is just never there! What, is he too good to work at his own bakery? Too good to grace us lowly bakers with a visit? How could he just swoop in and steal my signature item?”

Donghyuck listens to your rant with intent, cheek resting against his palm. He even looks a little ridiculously charmed right now. 

“Wait… so you’re the infamous Free Cake Phantom everyone’s talking about?” He gasps.

You’ve finally turned to your poor, neglected Mont Blanc sample, just for your heart to jump out. “What?”

“Just kidding. Your secret is safe,” he says, digging into the cake with infuriating nonchalance. “But hey, you’ve got good taste. This Mont Blanc though? It’s my personal recipe.”

Your fork halts halfway to your mouth. “Your recipe? What, you work here or something? And, no offense, but it’s overwhipped.”

If that’s a joke, it’s not very funny. The man looks more like a confectionary than a confectioner. There’s no way he works here. He’s probably some jobless guy drifting from bakery to bakery on early Saturday mornings.

His jaw drops. “Overwhipped? Are you kidding me?”

You wave the fork at him like it’s a weapon. “Chestnut puree shouldn’t have the texture of mousse. It’s called finesse, Mr. Lee.”

Before he can respond, Kimi returns with another tray, and you slip back into character, placing your hand on Donghyuck’s. “Thank you,” you coo at her. “I can’t wait to share all these flavors at our wedding.”

Donghyuck stiffens slightly at the unexpected contact, but he recovers quickly, plastering on the fakest grin known to man. “Anything for you, sweetheart.”

Kimi laughs. “You’re such a lovely couple. When’s the big day?”

You freeze, and so does Donghyuck. For a moment, neither of you has an answer.

“Oh, we’re still, uh, deciding,” you blurt, glancing at him for backup.

“Yeah, we’re thinking spring,” he adds smoothly. “Cherry blossoms. Very romantic.”

“Y-yes. Maybe the Raspberry Rose should be in the winner’s spot then.”

As Kimi bows politely and walks away again, Donghyuck leans in to whisper. “Should I book the honeymoon now, or…?”

“Don’t push your luck,” you hiss, elbowing him in the ribs. 

He makes a pained sound, but recovers quickly. 

The second flavor is dubbed “Marble Eclipse”, a decadent blend of rich chocolate and vanilla, perfectly balanced with a luscious buttercream frosting. You try to focus on the taste, but Donghyuck’s smug grin as he watches you take a bite is more distracting than you’d like to admit. You’re not easily flustered, not by men. Unfortunately, he would have been the exact type you’d have tried to nab in college.

You shake your head. Focus, (Name), you think to yourself, You’re in the enemy’s lair right now!

“So… I might as well come clean,” Donghyuck says with a serious tone, right after you’ve taken a bite. You pause in horror. What arcane knowledge is he going to use for your humiliation this time?

“I visit your bakery often, and I must say your selection is just as good, if not better.”

You exhale.

“Oh, it’s better alright,” you retort, before realizing the unwarranted passion in your voice. You compose yourself. “I mean, maybe their Mont Blanc is… a solid competitor.”

Donghyuck laughs, clearly amused by the bashfulness on your face.

“Wait, are you patronizing me?”

“Of course not!” He places his hand over his heart in mock hurt.

“I think the difference is that this one keeps up with the youth.” He waves his fork about, explaining his point further. “Everyone loves new, shiny things. Cycle those as much as possible. Have you ever considered holding blind box events with your cupcakes? I’m sure the kids would love to find out which flavor of panda bear cupcake they got—matcha, my personal favorite, or coconut cream, or… god forbid, chocolate mint. Ugh. Have you considered removing that from the menu? Anyway, that shouldn’t take too much time and money, right?”

The youth? What is he, forty? However, however, the look on his face as he describes your own baked goods to you is enough to make you intensely flustered. Has this man visited so often? And you never noticed him? How could you miss that easy-going smile?

A familiar figure saves you from whatever awkward, garbled response you were going to muster.

Despite Kimi’s arrival, Donghyuck has a hard time taking his eyes off you. Lashes swaying with each flicker of his eyes over your face, he’s hardly taking a bit of the delicious marble cake, in fact. What, have you got something on your face?

Kimi apologizes profusely before you can say anything to greet her. 

“There’s only one slice prepared for the Tiramisu Dream sample,” she explains. “I’m so sorry about this. Would you mind sharing this one? I apologize again.”

“No worries, Kimi,” Donghyuck responds, laughing a little. You shake your head and reassure it’s alright too. 

Anyway, that slice is going to be yours. You’re ready to pry it from his cold, dead hands.  

To your surprise, though, he shoots a friendly smile at you. 

“Want the first bite?”

“May I?” You ask, just to be sure.

“By all means,” he says, gesturing grandly. “After all, what’s mine is yours, fiance.”

You swear, if he calls you that one more time, he’s going to end up in the cake display.

Kimi stares at the two of you blankly for a moment. It instantly flusters you and Donghyuck both, so much so that the idiot digs his fork into the cake slice and holds it up to your lips with a soft ‘ah’ —and so much so that you actually accept it graciously. 

And all that only for Kimi to not even notice as she excused her way back to the counter. So now you’re just two idiots deep in your romantic charades. Donghyuck clears his throat, too late to cover his coral-tinted cheeks and ears. You’re certain you wear a similar expression.

“You’re- you’re so weird,” you jab, unable to come up with an insult higher than middle school grade. 

“What, you wanted me to do airplanes too?!”

“Take that fork and drive it through your tongue, will you?”

“Woah, woah, no need for violence, Miss (Name). Peace and Love.”

Unexpectedly, it makes you break character into unbound laughter. The weariness of the act and the silliness of the whole situation leaks into the sound, and it’s enough to make Donghyuck join in. For passersby, you are just a couple already past your third, fifth and seventh dates.

“Any comments for the tiramisu cake?” Donghyuck asks, grinning ear to ear.

You catch your breath, wiping a tear from the corner of your eye. “Yeah, I have a comment: who puts this much cocoa powder on top? Are you trying to choke your customers?”

“Awh, and I thought you were gonna be nice,” he whines, “Your smile is just so… inviting.”

As if on cue, he chokes on the cocoa powder. 

“I still like it,” you continue. “I’d just do it better.”

“I have the utmost confidence in that.”

Gosh, his smile is nauseating—too bright, too easy, like he’s actually enjoying this. Maybe he’s a rising actor, and you’re the one being hoodwinked. After all, who looks at someone like that on a first meeting?

A moment passes, and suddenly his thumb is at the corner of your lips, brushing off the cocoa powder with a touch so casual it feels anything but. “Got it,” he murmurs, and the air between you shifts, warm and oddly heavy.

“So, how do you know all this?” you ask, changing the topic. You’re forcing yourself to focus, to breathe. 

He leans back, a small laugh slipping out like he’s grateful for the lifeline. “You- uh- you could say I’m a connoisseur of pastries,” he offers, his voice lighter now. “I like to sample the best around town—just, you know, legally. I even take notes of my favorites.”

He gestures towards you, and you scoff.

The words settle between you as you toy with the edge of your skirt, smoothing the fabric down over your lap. There’s something about the way he speaks—so casual, so effortless—that needles at you. For a man so annoyingly confident, he sure seems relieved to have redirected the conversation.

Your hand grazes the tiny snowman buttons on your cardigan, tracing the cold plastic absentmindedly. His gaze flickers to the movement, then back to your face, a smile tugging at his lips like he’s trying not to laugh. You don’t know what’s more embarrassing—getting outed as the Cake Thief or the fact that he’s bound to know he flusters you.

You tilt your head, giving him a skeptical look. “How professional of you.”

The bite in your tone is softening, and you don’t like it one bit.

He holds up his hands, feigning surrender. “Hey, it’s an art. Someone’s gotta appreciate it, right?”

The faint chatter of other patrons fills the room, but his presence sharpens the moment, making it feel like it’s just the two of you. For a fleeting second, you catch yourself wondering what kind of person would take notes on pastries for fun. It’s so bizarrely specific, so utterly unnecessary—and yet, so like him.

His smile deepens, pulling you out of your thoughts. “You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” he teases.

You roll your eyes, but there’s no stopping the traitorous grin threatening to break through. You refuse to indulge him, even as you feel the faintest crack in your defenses.

"Maybe,” you say, finally.

He chuckles, the sound warm and genuine, before leaning back against his chair with a satisfied air, as if he’s won something. You glance at the tray, willing yourself to focus on anything else.

How awkward. How warm. 

You spot a napkin fluttering off the table, carried by a sudden draft from the door. Instinctively, you step out of your chair to grab it, but Donghyuck beats you to it, scooping it up with an exaggerated flourish and a bow.

“Your knight in shining armor,” he declares dramatically, holding it out like a trophy.

“More like my nuisance in sugar-stained armor,” you retort, snatching it from his hand.

He laughs, unabashed. “Ah, so sharp. Yet here you are, sharing cake with said nuisance. Life is full of mysteries.”

“I’m just here for the cake,” you deadpan, dusting your hands off.

For a second, his smile falters—not in hurt but in sheer disbelief. He tilts his head, studying you with an incredulous expression, and you suddenly feel like a frog under a magnifying glass.

“You really don’t get it, do you?” he says, almost to himself, his voice low but still playful.

“Get what?” you ask, genuinely confused.

Donghyuck presses his lips together, fighting back a grin. He steps closer, leaning in just enough for you to catch the faint scent of chestnut cream. “I mean, I could spell it out for you, but that might ruin the fun.”

“Spell what out?” you press, a little flustered now.

He straightens with a laugh, shaking his head. “Nothing, you airhead. Absolutely nothing. Is your head full of cotton candy, by any chance?”

You narrow your eyes at him, but before you can respond, he’s already pulling his chair back, resuming his seat with a sigh.

“Mont Blanc, Marble Eclipse, and Tiramisu on the first date,” he states, deep in thought. “Maybe Matcha Lemon, Lavender Peach, and White Chocolate on the second… Perhaps a Red Velvet and a Strawberry Shortcake before you realize I literally own this place?”

You feel the heat intensify on your cheeks. You almost miss the last part, clouded by the implications of the rest of his words. He… wants to go on more dates with you? Was this a date all along? You’ve been swindled into having fun with a man somehow. He even knows the ins and outs of a baker’s life. And he’s charming in an oddball sort of way. You shouldn’t be feeling solidarity with this weirdo. But then again, somehow, his laugh is very… endearing. 

Wait a minute.

“You- you really own the place?!” A scream dies in your throat.

Donghyuck looks positively taken aback. “So you actually weren’t aware?!”

“What do you mean? How the hell am I supposed to know?! You described yourself as a connoisseur of pastries. I thought you were some kind of freelance failure so I didn’t pry!”

“Excuse me?!”

“Well, either that or you’re unbelievably rich. But then you don’t look it. Your sleeves have flour and oil stains on them, and your shoes are all dusty too, and there’s gold flakes in your hair—okay, how did I miss this?”

“Geez, way to judge someone by their looks. I’m not taking that from the local tart snatcher.”

The retort barely registers because your brain is too busy replaying the words “I own this place.” The realization hits, and before you can think better of it, the chair screeches back as you bolt upright.

“Wait, where are you—” Donghyuck’s voice is cut off by your shrill, mortified “Bye!” as you make a beeline for the door, leaving behind a very startled staff and a half-empty tray of cakes. Immediately after your exit, you let out a shriek. 

What the hell are you doing?!

Your face burns as you speed-walk down the street, each step punctuated by the memory of your impulsive retreat. You must have cast your senses away at that moment, like some wide-eyed fool in a fairy tale, almost charmed by that silly man and his absurd little quirks. It’s not your fault, of course—it’s his, with his flour-dusted sleeves, that stupidly endearing laugh, and the way he talked about pastries like they were a love language. What was wrong with him?! you think, conveniently ignoring the fact that it was your awkwardness and runaway theatrics that had caused the scene. You’d blame it on sugar overload if it weren’t for the nagging realization that maybe—just maybe—he’d gotten under your skin, and the fact that you deserved it.

. . .

You hadn’t expected to hear from him again. Not after your embarrassing getaway. But three days later, you’re staring at an email with the subject line: "Notice of Legal Action for Unauthorized Sampling."

You open it with trembling fingers, only to find what can only be described as the world’s most dramatic—and definitely fake—lawsuit. 

Your jaw drops as you scroll through the email. He’d even attached a fake case number: #CAKE-404-NO-FUN.

The body of the email was littered with ridiculous legalese. Phrases like "egregious acts of confectionery negligence" and "failure to properly appreciate artisanal craftsmanship" were scattered between absurdly specific accusations.

There is a diagram. An actual diagram. Arrows pointing to "Exhibit A" (the Mont Blanc) and "Exhibit B" (the empty spot on the tray), annotated with notes like "victim of hasty consumption" and "left to fend for itself."

And then, at the very bottom, there it was—the pièce de résistance:

“This suit may be settled by one (1) heartfelt apology and one (1) coffee date at the aforementioned bakery. Should you require legal counsel, I suggest bringing your A-game. I am, after all, a connoisseur of arguments… and pastries. 😉”

You groan, head thunking against the back of your chair. The audacity. The drama. The fuckass emojis. 

This man is getting to you.

Your first reaction is, of course, panic. Your second? Rage. And by the time you storm into the bakery at ass o’clock before it even opens, Donghyuck is waiting for you, leaning against the counter like he owns the place. (Which he does, actually.)

He’s propped on his elbows, his posture easy and unhurried, as if he’s been expecting you. The black apron around his waist is slightly askew, and his beige T-shirt bears faint streaks of flour across the chest, a testament to an already busy morning. His fluffy brown hair is an artful mess, the kind that looks unintentional but infuriatingly perfect, with a few errant strands curling over his forehead. There’s a streak of something golden—sugar, maybe?—on his cheek, catching the light as he tilts his head to regard you with an expression that’s equal parts curious and smug.

“You’re early,” he remarks, his voice low and teasing, as though he isn’t the root of all evil.

“You think this is funny?” you demand, shoving your phone in his face.

Donghyuck grins, unbothered. “Hilarious, actually. Did it get your attention?”

“You can’t just send someone a fake legal notice!”

“Worked, didn’t it?” He shrugs, leaning back with infuriating calmness. “Besides, you owed me an explanation for your Houdini act. You know, poor Kimi had to clear your tray. She almost cried.”

“She did not!”

As if on cue, Kimi pokes her head out of the kitchen. “Oh, she absolutely did. It was tragic,” she deadpans before ducking back in.

You groan, feeling your cheeks grow hotter by the second. “You’re unbelievable.”

Donghyuck leans back, smug as ever, and gestures to the email still open on your phone. “Unbelievable or resourceful? Let’s review: I sent a single, harmless message—full of creativity and wit, I might add—and look where we are.”

“At me wanting to strangle you?”

“At you running right to me,” he corrects, his grin widening. “What, were you worried?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you snap. “I’m here because—” 

You stop, realizing you don’t have a decent answer. “I didn’t want to give you the satisfaction of thinking I took you seriously.”

“Oh, you absolutely took me seriously.” He nods sagely. “I saw the panic in your eyes. Admit it: for a second, you thought you were going to have to pay me a hundred grand or grovel at my feet.”

“I- ugh- fuck you!” is all you can muster, stepping forward without thinking.

He mirrors your movement, the space between you shrinking by degrees. 

“But seriously, you ghosted me, and I had to get creative. What the hell was I supposed to do? I figured the legal drama might get my point across.”

“What point?”

“That I wanted to see you again.” The words come out so easily, so matter-of-fact, you don’t know how to respond. When you finally glance up, he’s watching you closely, his expression uncharacteristically sincere.

“Just because you’re all cute and covered in flour like the star of some indie chef movie doesn’t mean you get to toy with me.”

“Ha! You’re presumptuous—despite all the fine details on me you seem to observe.” He leans in. “But guess what, I’m a greedy bastard that loves attention. So, look closer.”

And you look anywhere but his lips, too pink and too plush, as your face grows hotter than a convection oven on broil.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you manage, staring resolutely at the display of cakes. “That hardly counts as details.”

“Details,” he echoes, his grin growing wider. “Like the way I look at you?”

“You’re just a flirt,” you mutter.

He gasps, mock-offended, and gestures dramatically to the kitchen. “Kimi, did you hear that? I’m just a flirt!”

“You said it, not me,” Kimi calls back without missing a beat.

You laugh despite yourself, the sound surprising you. And Donghyuck doesn’t miss it. His gaze softens, the teasing edge in his voice dropping slightly. “There it is. I knew you could laugh without running away.”

You roll your eyes. “Don’t get used to it.”

“Too late.”

For a moment, the air shifts, the humor giving way to something quieter. Donghyuck’s gaze lingers—not on your awkward posture or flushed cheeks, but on you, as though trying to piece together something he doesn’t quite understand.

“What?” you finally ask, defensive.

“Nothing.” He shakes his head, but there’s a small, genuine smile now. “Just... you’re such a fidgety person.”

“Are you trying to shell out an insult?”

“No, I mean, I always see you scuttling here and there. Always on the move. Always observing, but never stopping long enough to be seen. You just… don’t seem like someone who takes much time for yourself.”

You blink, caught off guard. He tilts his head, like he’s trying to figure out if he’s crossed a line.

“I’m wrong?” he asks, almost sheepishly.

“I—” You pause, unsure of how to respond. “You’re nosy, that’s what you are.”

“That’s a yes,” he decides, grinning again.

Donghyuck chuckles, leaning just a little closer, his warm brown eyes locking onto yours. “Tell you what,” he says, his voice dropping to a murmur, “I’ll prove I’m not just nosy. Let me take you out. Somewhere you don’t have to bolt out the door halfway through.”

“You think I’d agree to that?” you retort, though your words lack bite. The proximity is doing something to your brain, and you’re acutely aware of how close he’s leaned in.

His grin is confident and infuriating. “I think you’d be curious enough to say yes.”

Your breath hitches as you realize how little space is left between the two of you, your noses almost brushing. “Woah,” you whisper, trying to play it off, “my mommy warned me about boys like you. All up close and personal with flour in their hair.”

He raises a brow, unrepentant. “Smart woman. But she didn’t tell you we’re pretty good at first dates, did she?”

You can’t help the laugh that escapes, soft but genuine. “Fine,” you say, straightening up and taking a step back before your pulse betrays you further. “But you’re paying. And no weird cakes this time.”

“Deal,” he replies, his smile softer now, more sincere.

And for a moment, you believe it—not just the act, not just the cakes and the banter, but the idea that maybe, somehow, this strange, sugar-dusted series of events has led to something real.

. . .

r/AmITheAsshole

u/YeastMode6969 • 16h

UPDATE: I faked my engagement for free cake samples then got sued after I ran away. AIO?

Fine, you guys were right. We’re dating now. Let’s just say we’ve been filling my cream puffs lately  🫠

Edit: I also got the Mont Blanc recipe!!

⥣ 7.7k ⥥ 3,297 Comments

kimikakes • 13h

KIMI HERE, REPORTING LIVE FROM THE SCENE: they literally argued over frosting consistency for half an hour yesterday. This relationship is built on chaos and croissants.

➥ Reply ⥣ 7.1k ⥥

bun_theory0222 • 2h

Hellooo where are the recipes. Priorities, OP :/

➥ Reply ⥣ 4.1k ⥥

lil_sugar_daddy0813 • 1h

man i was betting on donghyuck dying alone i dont wanna lose my $20

➥ Reply ⥣ 1.3k ⥥

muffinbutdrama1122 • 1h Give me your money NYEOW ➥ Reply ⥣ 1.7k ⥥

soggywaffle0205 • 6m why are you suddenly a furry ➥ Reply ⥣ 1.1k ⥥

muffinbutdrama1122 • 1h pays the bills ➥ Reply ⥣ 2.7k ⥥

[jinnie-ret]

perfect night

poly!stray kids x idol!reader

genre: fluff

content warnings: none

word count: 1k

requested: @whoswony

summary: in which stray kids are watching the opening show of their girlfriend's tour, sonder, and they come to realise a song is dedicated purely to them

1K FOLLOWERS PLAYLIST 💚🖤

MAIN MASTERLIST

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Oh how smug you felt, that a song you had written that was purely dedicated to your boys, could still be released and put onto your latest album, Sonder. Truth be told, it was masked as a song to all your 'girls' out there, about spending time with them being your most favourite thing in the world, and not needing anything else. That was how it actually made it onto the album. But you knew who you really wrote it for.

You wrote the song for Chan, who dedicated his life to protecting each of his partners and prioritising them over himself.

For Minho, who willingly let you read him like a book and get to know him because he wasn't scared of opening up to you.

For Changbin, who often indulged in late night deep conversations with you, whether they were trivial matters that you spiraled deeply into, or more serious ones that helped each of you lift the weight off of your shoulders.

For Hyunjin, whose dramatic antics yet romantic attitude always made you swoon, no matter how goofy he would suddenly become.

You wrote it for Jisung, who always managed to keep you on your toes, whether it be from him bursting into song, his sleep clinginess or his rambles about his new favourite anime that inspired him to write a song or two.

For Felix, who was your constant source of happiness, smiles radiating sunshine and reflecting his light across your shadows, forever brightening your day.

For Seungmin, your cheeky yet very emotionally intelligent partner in crime who helped you stay rational in times when all you could see was doom and gloom.

And finally for Jeongin, who always insisted his admiration for you, was levels above your own for him, because he couldn't believe that it was possible for anyone to be more adored in this world than you.

They were all you needed. And you couldn't wait to show them that, and finally be able to express that to them through the other thing you all loved - music.

-★-★-★-★-★-

Gorgeous yet eery piano notes echoed across the walls of the stadium as you made your entrance, like you were a mystical being that your fans laid their eyes upon.

"She's so hot," Jeongin sighed as he leant across the railings.

"Real," Hyunjin nodded, tongue grazing his upper lip.

"Stop perving on our girlfriend," Seungmin sighed and whacked them on the backs of their heads.

Your boyfriends were sat on an upper tier of the seating in the stadium, safely away from fans and any possible suspicions to why they were there. Luckily, if that case was ever made, fans would be sure to defend you, knowing that you and Jeongin were friends at SOPA.

If only they knew that the two of you were way more than friends. As well as his seven other band members.

Suddenly a new track they hadn't heard started playing, some calming guitar sounding out before a drum track starting kicking in and their girlfriend's poppy voice blended perfectly with the music.

"Come and take a ride with me, I got a credit card and some good company..."

"Wait, that's about us, right?" Chan's eyes widened and a big grin appeared on his face.

"She literally said her girlies," Minho said bluntly, making Chan laugh.

"We're sort of the girlies," Han shrugged.

"Yeah Jisung you do give baby girl energy to be fair," Felix laughed.

"So does Binnie," Jisung added on, smiling as their girl performed.

The fun, light-hearted choreography made you shine with your bright energy.

"I feel so proud, wahhh," Changbin held his hand over his heart, bopping along to the music much like his other boyfriends.

"Quick, let's head backstage!" Felix pushed his other boyfriends forwards down the stairs in pure excitement as the concert came to an end.

-★-★-★-★-★-

Stretched out on the sofa in your dressing room, sipping from some water, you nearly choked on your mouthful as the door burst open with eight men pouring through.

"You were so good!"

"That song was about us right?!"

"Right?!"

You giggled as you were quite literally smothered in their love, kisses being peppered across your face, your neck, your hands, swallowed up in the arms of your boyfriends.

"Yah! What if I was getting changed?" you gasped playfully as you pushed them all away.

"I wouldn't be complaining," Hyunjin smirked before getting a neck slap from Minho.

"Hey!"

And on they went playfully fighting as Chan gave you one of his hoodies he brought with him, just for you.

"Thanks love," you smiled fondly, pulling the fluffy black hoodie over your head as Jeongin tugged you into his arms.

"You really wrote a song about us?" Felix grabbed your hands to gain your attention.

"How could you tell?" you pushed your lips together, trying not to let any words spill out straight away. You'd keep them guessing just that bit longer, that was your game.

"Credit card and some good company? You literally said that to us one time," Seungmin shrugged knowingly, with shake of his head to get the hair out of his face. He had been growing it longer recently - no objections from you.

"That could just be about my friends," you feigned ignorance.

"Nah!"

"No way!"

"Hey I have friends!" you stood up, folding your arms and detesting their claims.

"We know you do, we know love," Changbin back hugged you tightly.

"But you also have us, hmm?" Minho smirked, tickling under your chin like you were one of his cats.

"And we're way better company!" Han declared, from his spot sat on top of Jeongin as he teased the younger and cooed like you all normally did with the maknae.

"I think Jeongin would disagree," you said dryly.

"I would!" the fox boy choked out, nearly sounding suffocated with distraught as he wrestled the older boy off of him.

"But you wouldn't, would you? Don't deny it, that song was for us," Seungmin pointed out.

"Mmm, sure, whatever you want to believe," you looked down at your feet shyly, knowing there was no turning back from here. They had caught you out. But you didn't mind anymore, you were happy because they were too.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

tagged: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @hannahhbahng @kpopmenace143 @sakufilms @kai-lee08 @arloo00 @dunno-wut-to-do @splat00z @cheesemonky @his-angell @turtledove824 @2minstan @royal-shinigami @yangbbokari @skzoologist @crabrangoongirl25 @atinyniki @writingforstraykids @minholing @lilmisssona @astraysimp @j-one25

[takeariskao3]

as per usual, i am late to the memegeddon… but here is a lil something based on this meme from @petalsthefish

James stabbed the last carrot on his plate with a bit more violence than the action called for. However, it had no effect on the conversation happening a few seats down at the Gryffindor table.

“I s’pose the library?” Albert Jenkins-Wright prattled on. “Where do girls like her even hang out?”

Across from James, Sirius snorted.

“And she’s never on her own,” one of Jenkins-Wright’s sixth year mates chimed in. “It’ll be like asking her out in front of her whole dormitory.”

The small group of boys all made equal, yet indiscernible, noises of agreement and glanced around to where the fifth year girls had their heads together. James couldn’t help it, he peeked up as well. The girls in his year were all giggling in hushed tones over their pudding. As he watched, the object of their infernal conversation threw her head back and laughed in full merriment. James’ insides twisted painfully and he refocused on his empty plate.

“Valentine’s Day though,” another of the boys chimed in. “That’s a lot of pressure for a first date, isn’t it?”

James had heard quite enough. He shoved back on his bench and snapped, “She has to say yes first.”

Albert Jenkins-Wright glowered at him. Thankfully, Sirius also stood from his seat, albeit less petulantly, and smirked. “Good luck with that.”

Peter and Remus followed, Remus shoveling his last few bites of potatoes into his mouth. A small slice of guilt broke through James’ foul mood, but he stalked away nonetheless.

“I thought you were attempting indifference?” Peter hissed as they reached the entrance hall.

Out of the corner of his eye, James saw Remus grin. “Yes, I distinctly remember that New Year’s resolution too.”

“Let’s be honest,” Sirius sighed, clapping James on the shoulder. “We all knew it was doomed.”

“Jenkins-Wright is a prat,” James said without any real bite behind it.

Peter rolled his eyes. “Every bloke who likes Evans is a prat.“

“Including you,” Sirius added.

Remus covered a laugh with a cough; Peter sniggered.

As they mounted the marble staircase, James ground his teeth together, determined not to be a prat.

He made it as far as the second floor.

“What kind of name is Jenkins-Wright, anyhow?”

His three friends groaned.

Ten minutes, two floors, and a password later, they found armchairs tucked into a corner of the common room. James had exhausted his complaints about Albert Jenkins-Wrights’s name and had now moved on to his intelligence.

“Like she’d ever go out with a bloke who couldn’t even scrape an E in Charms.” James insisted.

“Do shut up,” Sirius grumbled, settling deeper into the cushions.

James scowled, and had just opened his mouth to release a very un-witty retort when an eruption of giggles tumbled through the portrait hole.

“The tea leaves don’t lie!” Anna Perry cackled while looping her arm through Evans’.

Green eyes flashed and Evans shot her friend a flat look. “Your only proof is a lump of soggy Earl Grey and something about Saturn’s anus–“

“Janus,” Anna Perry stressed. “It’s the moon of discernment, and its current alignment with Venus makes tonight the perfect conditions for predicting–“

As the girls walked by their cluster of chairs, James couldn’t help himself. “What’s this about Saturn’s anus?”

“Never you mind,” Evans spat. At the same time, Anna burst, “I’ve just read her teacup. And it’s fascinating–“

“Hardly.” Evans rounded on her friend. “You think my soulmate is at Hogwarts.”

James’ heart lept into his throat.

“Well, obviously,” Anna huffed, clearly exasperated. “It showed they were near! Could be proximity, could be timing, it could be the next person who asks you out!”

Evans looked increasingly unimpressed.

James, however, suffered a temporary bout of insanity. “Hey, Evans? Go out with me?”

“No,” she replied smoothly, without so much as looking at him.

The rejection was expected, and only made James grin wider.

“See?” Evans gestured to where James leaned over the back of his chair. “By your logic, Potter is my one true love. Some prediction that was.”

Anna’s shoulders slumped. “Fine, don’t believe me. But I know what I saw.”

Evans rolled her eyes and yanked Anna toward the rest of the girls, who had settled at a long table and were pulling out homework.

Watching them go, James sunk back into his seat, unable to control the self-satisfied smirk stretching across his face.

He was met with three expressions of equal disapproval.

“What?” he asked with an air of false innocence. “I wasn’t about to let her fall madly in love with Albert Jenkins-Wright.” When none of his friends showed signs of going along with this farce, James continued, “Apathy is overrated, anyway. Whatever happened to going after what you want, huh? Where are the proper grand gestures? Men used to duel for the hand of a lady, you know…”

Silence hung between the four of them for several long moments before Sirius lounged back into his seat and rumbled, “You’re a nuisance to society.”

[choppedbouquetswhisperedsecrets]

~Caught red handed~

[Part one]

Pairing – Theodore Nott x fem!Gryffindor!reader

Summary – y/n acts as cupid for her friend (which means risking her life or worse getting expelled), but what happens when nothing goes according to plan?

Word Count – 3,478

Warnings – (nothing serious) fluff, swearing (if you count idiot), very lengthy, pangs of jealousy, miscommunication

A/N – this is my first one yet, and I wrote this cos I’m sure I’m not the only one who’s hopelessly crushing over our boi Theo. I hope you enjoy! (Even though its sooo long) Love you lots <3

You hear your heavy breaths underneath Harry’s Cloak of invisibility as you stand silently in place, waiting for someone to come. The dungeons aren’t the brightest of places and it isn’t the most comfortable either. Underneath the cloak, you start to feel yourself sweat, when a bunch of students in Slytherin uniform stop in front of a wall and, giving the pass code, the entrance is opened. Before it’s too late, you scurry after them, making sure not to make a sound. 

You don’t know how well Harry’s cloak works. But this, as Sophie claims, was the only way she could truly show Mattheo Riddle to what extent she was going, to show how much she liked him. And that included having to sneak into the Slytherin common hall. Trust Sophie to chicken out and bribe you with chocolate to get you to do her bidding. Of course you refused her at first- you couldn’t risk an expulsion. But then she got Ginny in on it, and here you are: sweating and exhausted, wrapped in Harry’s cloak and not to forget, the letter Sophie wrote for her “one true love” weighing in your hand.

Following the students into the hall, you muse to yourself that if you succeed in this mission without getting caught, maybe you could become a spy in the future. You chuckle softly, when a small gasp escapes your lips as you take in the sight of the hall. A formal and elegant ambiance fills the place while streaks of green and silver run everywhere: from the curtains to the furniture, along with the carpets and tapestries. Silver chandeliers hang from the ceiling and even though it’s dim and creepy, it’s cozier than it looks.

You carefully navigate through students who come your way as you make sure not to bump into anyone, walking slowly. You scan the place for the boy’s dorm and see a few Slytherin guys walk out from an entrance to the right. Amidst your gut telling you to stop and just run back out, you walk ahead, convincing yourself it’ll be over soon.

You mumble the room number repeatedly under your breath as you search for Mattheo’s room, almost giving away your presence once or twice. Finally, you reach the idiot’s room and thankfully the door isn’t locked. You manage to squeeze through the small door gap and seeing that nobody is around, you can finally take off the cloak, even if it’s a little bit.

You take deep and relaxing breaths before you’re about to place the card on the bedside table, when you hear someone enter and the door close behind you. You quickly turn and your eyes widen in horror as you remember you didn’t cover yourself yet.

Guess spy work isn’t for me.

Your eyes lock with a set of green ones belonging to a charmingly handsome guy. He looks as perplexed as you, but there’s a hint of amusement on his face and his lips crack into a smirk.

‘This is new,’ the green eyed guy says as he leans against his bed frame, hands crossed. ‘I wasn’t expecting a girl to be in my room, let alone a…Gryffindor.’ He raises an eyebrow and grins.

Your palms are forming pools of sweat and it feels like as if you’ve completely froze, not being able to move or say a word. Is this Mattheo??

‘I-I was only meaning to….’ You start, but what can you say? You were doomed, by Merlin’s beard. You swallow hard, trying to process what to do as you clutch the letter tighter. The guy comes closer to you, where you can smell his citrusy scent at the back of your throat.

‘Yes? Merlin got your tongue?’ he chuckles at his own joke and the sound of him laughing does something weird to your stomach. ‘No, I was only…I’m here to give something to someone,’ you manage to blurt out. The guy looks carefully at you and his eyes trail down to the letter in your hand. With a coy look on his face, he goes ‘Is that-’

‘Just read it!’ you yell abruptly, interrupting him as you shove the letter into his chest, earning a slight groan from the guy. You quickly cover yourself with the cloak again and rush out, ignoring his calls for you.

…..

‘You’re the best, y/n!’ Sophie squeals as she hugs you. Ginny is sitting on her bed, shaking her head in disbelief as she tucks away Harry’s cloak of Invisibility. ‘You actually did it,’ she says and grins. You fall to your bed, sighing and throw a pillow at Ginny. ‘Of course I did. Except-’

You relate the little incident you had with the guy and wince as you think back to it. ‘You don’t think he’ll report me, do you?’ you ask your friends. Sophie confidently answers in the negative. ‘He’s a Slytherin; if there’s anything he likes, its rule breaking and trouble. Besides, Mattheo isn’t the type to snitch,’ Sophie says and dreamily sighs as she falls back down on her bed.

‘His green eyes were mesmerizing for sure,’ you add and chuckle, but a confused Sophie interrupts you. ‘Green eyes? Mattheo has brown eyes, y/n,’ she says and suddenly her eyes widen as she pieces two and two together. ‘Wait, y/n, who did you give the letter to?!’ Sophie wails as you bring your hands to your mouth, aghast. You see Ginny thinking hard.

‘Green eyes…don’t tell me you gave that letter to Theodore Nott, y/n,’ Ginny says, causing Sophie to go into another fit. You feel your insides twist and you wince as you look at Sophie. ‘What are we supposed to do?’ you hear yourself asking. Sophie looks accusingly at you. ‘You are going to get that letter back-‘

‘I’m sorry, Soph, but I’m not returning to that place again,’ you snap, shaking your head. ‘This wouldn’t have happened if you just gave the letter directly to Mattheo.’ You reason with her, angry, but become filled with guilt when you see her pouting. ‘But, if it’s any consolidation, I’ll get the letter back if you’d like,’ I give in with a sigh. Sophie’s face lights up and she nods like a puppy. ‘That’d be great!’ she says and you groan, before landing face down on your bed.

Godric knows what you’ve got yourself into.

…..

He’s supposed to be here.

You’re scanning through the flock of students that pour out of Professor Snape’s class, searching for Theodore Nott. He should have been out by now, since he has to catch Transfiguration next. You know this because you’re supposed to be there too, and you’re running out of time. You frown as it starts getting awkward, with the students giving you looks as they walk past you wondering what you’re doing.

When you approach the classroom a little closer, your eyes land on a tall figure standing in front of Professor Snape, who looks like he’s lecturing whoever it is in front of him. You realize its Theodore and can’t help but wonder what happened.

The look on Theodore’s face is amusing enough for you to crack a wide grin, which catches his wandering eyes. He quickly glances at you and raises an eyebrow. However, this causes Professor Snape to pinch his ear. You wince as Professor Snape twists Theo’s ear. ‘Are you even listening to me, Mr. Nott?’ Professor’s voice booms while Theo is wincing in pain, but suppressing a shameless smile nonetheless.

Professor Snape follows where Theo was looking before and he sees you. You’re startled of course, but you can’t do anything, so you just stand there, while Prof. Snape walks to you at the entrance of the class. ‘Is there anything I can help you with, Miss y/l/n?’ You hear the Professor ask as your brain tries to come up with an excuse. ‘Prof-Professor McGonagall requests Mr. Nott’s presence,’ you blurt out a lie and your heartbeat increases as Professor Snape eyes you up and down with a scowl.

‘Alright.’ He finally says and turns his back on you, as you let out a breath of relief. ‘Professor McGonagall is asking for you, Mr. Nott,’ the Professor says. ‘I will allow you to go this time, but don’t let me catch you sleeping in class again,’ he adds sternly before Theodore apologizes and heads out with his books.

‘Professor McGonagall isn’t asking for me, is she?’ Theodore asks, smirking at you after you’ve lead the two of you to a more secluded spot. You shake your head embarrassingly as you tighten your grip on your books. ‘Godric knows he’ll be fuming if he finds out you lied to him,’ Theo adds and chuckles lightly.

‘It’s about yesterday…’ you start, and Theo’s face light up. ‘Ah, yes, I remember. Don’t worry,’ he says with a wink. ‘I have the letter with me. Who knew someone could be so madly in love?’ you hear him chuckle. ‘That’s the problem: it’s not for you,’ you break it to him and his face relaxes into a coy one. ‘I figured. Like I said, don’t worry, I handed it to Mattheo,’ Theo assures as you release a breath.

‘Thank you,’ you mumble and Theo nods. ‘I was supposed to give it to him, but I got…let’s say confused, when I saw you, so,’ you explain and Theo smiles. ‘I understand,’ he says and suddenly silence fills the atmosphere as you realize you’re staring into his pretty green eyes again. You shake your head and snap out of it as you remember your next class.

‘Merlin! I’ve got Transfigurations,’ you say and watch as Theo’s face turns into realization. ‘Me too. Want to walk together?’ He asks, rubbing his nape. ‘We are going to the same class after all.’ He shrugs and you nod. ‘I don’t think we’ve properly introduced each other. I’m Theodore Nott,’ he greets. ‘I know,’ you say abruptly, realizing there’s a smirk on his face. ‘I mean, we’re in the same class. But I’m y/n y/l/n,’ you give a small smile. ‘I know,’ you hear Theo say and raise an eyebrow. ‘Let me guess, we’re in the same class?’ you ask with a smirk and he nods. ‘You got me,’ he chuckles.

‘You know, I’m curious as to how one doesn’t remember their crush’s face,’ Theo asks as the two of you head to class. You glance at him just in time to see his toothy smile, eyes closed and head shaking in disbelief. You catch yourself smiling and quickly give yourself a mental slap.

‘I don’t like Mattheo,’ you explain, clutching your books closer to your chest. ‘I was helping a friend, who was too chicken to do anything,’ you say the last part in a bitter way, remembering Sophie as you roll your eyes. ‘You didn’t write that letter for Riddle?’ Theo asks, sounding surprised and a slight hint of relief. You look at him and shake your head. ‘Not at all,’ you say in disbelief. ‘Mattheo is the last person I would ever like.’ You catch a subtle frown on Theo’s face.

‘Because he’s a Slytherin?’ He asks, much to your surprise. You’re left thinking but just shrug. ‘That, and other things.’ You nod. ‘What other things?’ Theo asks, making him look suspicious to you but you just comply. ‘Well, for one, I don’t know him,’ you say, tucking away a strand of hair and clutching your books to your side. Theo nods and goes silent. ‘Do you have someone you like?’

Your neck snaps at Theo when he asks the question. ‘What?’ He shrugs and you see a grin on his face, looking innocent. Your eyes narrow a bit comically. ‘You’re being suspicious, Nott,’ you joke. ‘Besides, why would I tell you if I had a crush or not?’ you keep up with the sassy attitude and even walk a bit with your nose held high. But you break character next second and go into fits of laughter as Theo chuckles with you.

‘Don’t get me wrong; I was only asking to...you know...make small talk,’ Theo says and you can’t help but notice a shadow pass through his eyes. Could it be…? You shake your head even thinking of it. The two of you barely know each other; how can you expect Theodore to have something for you? You almost laugh out loud.

‘I know, I know, I was just kidding,’ you say instead and grin at him. ‘We need to pick up the pace; time’s ticking,’ you raise your eyebrows as you motion to your wrist like a watch.

‘We won’t reach there on time, not unless we…’ Theo trails off and you feel a smirk forming on your face. ‘I’m not a track champion for no reason,’ you challenge and suddenly the two of you are running to class, sprinting past students and across corridors, thankfully reaching on time, although tired and panting.

‘First,’ Theo says as he looks down at you, and you shake your head. ‘You wish, Nott. I reached sooner,’ you say and your Professor puts an end to your bickering by calling the two of you in as the class looks on. Soon you’re sitting in your usual seat next to Ginny, who’s giving you a weird look after seeing you come in with Theodore.

‘What was that about?’ Ginny whispers as you try to focus on the lesson at hand. ‘What was what?’ you pretend not to understand what she asks, and hear her eyes practically roll. ‘Don’t act dumb, y/n. You and Nott, of course.’

‘I cleared the misunderstanding, that’s all,’ you huff in response. Why did she have to be so nosy? ‘And now you’re friends?’ Ginny continues pestering you. ‘No,’ you whisper, but loud enough that you get a few weird stares from some students, even Theo, who shoots you a smile from his seat. ‘Yeah, not friends. Understood,’ Ginny smirks and finally leaves you alone as you roll your eyes and sigh in defeat.

‘He is cute,’ you hear Ginny creep up to your ears after a few minutes, and almost hit her hard enough to send her to Godric’s Hallow. ‘Ginny!’ you whisper-shout and glare at her but she just shrugs. ‘I’m just saying,’ she defends and you shake your head as you get back to your worksheet. ‘I wouldn’t be so friendly with him though; he’s bad news,’ Ginny adds. ‘Oh well, at least he has a girlfriend, so I know he’s not trying to get his hands all over you, break your heart or something.’ You only roll your eyes at her but the girlfriend part piques your interest and you can’t help but ask, ‘He does?’ Ginny nods.

‘Well, obviously. He’s always surrounded by a crowd of fan girls wherever he goes,’ Ginny mentions casually. ‘But remember,’ she points with a finger to her temple. ‘Bad news.’  For some strange reason, you feel a pit open in your stomach, as you glance at Theo but catch him already staring. Your eyes widen a bit, and Theo smirks.

What happened? He wiggles his eyebrows and you shake your head. Done? He holds up his worksheet and you glance down at yours, before shaking your head again. He chuckles softly and just then, before you’re able to finish your work, the bell rings, indicating lunch.

You arrange your books as your Professor gives the closing remarks and this time you head to the dining hall with Ginny, catching up with Sophie and the others, while Theodore is with his friends. At the hall, you sit down at the Gryffindor table, where Sophie impatiently pulls you down before you’re fully seated.

‘Ow!’ you yelp as Sophie tugs at your sleeve and looks over at Theodore, next to him is seated Mattheo. ‘I trust the problem is solved?’ she asks and you nod, wincing as you rub your arm. ‘Good. What’s up with you and Nott though?’ Sophie asks as she resumes eating.

‘What’s wrong? Does it look like something happened? Why are you asking?’ You question frantically. ‘No, nothing happened. Why are you so worked up? Calm down; I’m only asking because he keeps looking this way,’ Sophie points with a chicken leg at the Slytherin table, where you look over. Sure enough, you catch Theo staring at you with a small smile. He wiggles his eyebrows again, and you return a small smile.

‘See, something is definitely going on between the two of you, but you’re not telling us,’ Sophie accuses and you only roll your eyes. ‘If I were you, I’d be a little careful around that one, y/n,’ Sophie whispers and you glare at her as she shrugs innocently. ‘What is y/n not telling us?’ Ron suddenly asks, mouth half filled with food. ‘Gross, Ron. Atleast swallow your food and then talk,’ Ginny grumbles but Ron ignores his sister.

‘Did you put my cloak to good use?’ Harry asks, as you sheepishly look at him and remember what you used his cloak for. You nod. ‘I never did ask you what you wanted Harry’s cloak for,’ Ron says casually, picking at a piece of his food, which catches you off guard.

‘Uh…i…I used it for…’ you look at Sophie and Ginny for help, since they were the main culprits. You didn’t specifically tell Harry what you were going to use the cloak for but made sure to add ‘for educational purposes’. Besides, the whole table knew about Sophie’s crush on Mattheo, but you were sure fewer people would be willing to help them get together, even people like Harry.

‘It was a little prank, no worries,’ Sophie shrugs and you awkwardly agree with her, Harry and Ron thankfully getting off of your back. But Hermione has new suspicions. ‘Was it you at the library the other day? The one who kept knocking down books to annoy me?’ She narrows her eyes down at you and you shake your head quickly, wondering what you did to ever deserve this much trouble.

‘What happened?’ Ron asks, thankfully diverting the attention, making Hermione launch into her woeful tale of how she couldn’t concentrate in the library the other day when someone kept knocking books over and over again. ‘I kept placing the books back in their shelves but got frustrated in the end,’ your ears caught Hermione saying, but your eyes kept hovering over to Theodore. What if he was staring again?

Right now, he was chuckling with his friends, their laughter echoing in the Great Hall despite the constant chattering of other students. You can’t help but feel a faint smile on your lips as you see him so happy.

‘Y/n?’ you feel someone nudge you and you suddenly get back to your senses. ‘Wow, you guys hate me so much for liking Mattheo, but looks like we have to worry about one more Gryffindor falling for a Slytherin,’ Sophie says and avoids your eyes, while you look at her aghast.

‘I do not like Theodore Nott,’ you state sternly. ‘She never said you did,’ Ginny butts in and your neck snaps at her, glaring. ‘You did walk in with Nott for Transfigurations, didn’t you?’ Hermione asks and you look at her desperately. ‘Maybe something is going on between the two of you,’ Hermione says so seriously you want to bury yourself and die.

‘Guys, that is only a one time occurrence,’ you blurt out. ‘It’s not going to happen often. I just had to take care of something.’ You go back to eating your food silently, but feel your body temperature rise inside. ‘Did the cloak have something to do with him?’ Harry abruptly asks. Having had enough, you stand up, and excuse yourself before walking out.

You’re strolling around in the corridors, wondering where you should go, when you hear your name being called. ‘Y/n!’ Your eyes roll as you wonder if it’s Ginny or Sophie, trying to catch up with you. But as the person gets nearer, you hear it’s a deeper voice than your girlfriends. ‘Y/n,’ the voice calls out again, right behind you this time and sounding breathless.

‘Nott?’ you turn back and see a panting Theodore, catching his breath. He gives a small smile as he pants. ‘I was wondering...if you’d like to catch up on Transfigurations at the library?’ he asks. You frown a little; you were hoping it would be for something else. Something more casual than studying.

But you just smile. Because, strangely, your gut was telling you to go with it. If it was with Theodore, you were up for anything. Even studying. ‘That would be nice; maybe I can finish my worksheets then,’ you say with a nod. Nott smiles adoringly. ‘Great. See you in five?’ he asks and you nod again, before he leaves you to collect his books.

A/N: guys, I’ve realized this is way too long to begin with :[ So bad news is im ending it here, but good news is there’s part two!! So if you wanna read part two, please be patient! I’ll definitely post it :) Thanks for understanding! <3

PS: part two is out!!

[lightwing-s]

𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒

pairing: jason todd x fem! reader

summary: when you're desperate for a quick shower, the last thing you expected was for it to last this too long, or for you to be accompained by a boy.

word count: 4,6k warnings: shower sex, oral sex (m receiving), handjob, language

a/n: it's 4am and I need to wake up for work at 6am, but I promised myself i'd finish it today (or yesterday) and so i did. not proofread, so i apologize for any mistakes. hope you enjoy, much love ♡.

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! ♡

⌜masterlist⌟ ⌜requests⌟

Throbbing pain consumed your frontal lobe

It was way past the usual time practice ended. Way past. All your teammates stood around the coach for a prolonged scolding session after the team had lost the past two matches in a not so nice —extremely bad—, manner.

The season had barely started and you could see in everyone’s eyes they were all already exhausted. And so were you.

Your legs burnt from all the exercise, feeling like your muscles were about to rip open at any moment. Your scalp itched, as the sweat settled on your hair, leaving it oily and stinky. Gosh, you needed a shower.

Time did not seem to pass. No, the coach did not seem to ever want to stop talking.

Taking a glimpse to your right, you catch sight of your best friend impatiently standing on the bleaches. One of her legs shaking and her arms crossed on her chest. “Shit” you whispered to yourself, as you knew another scolding was doomed the minute you stepped out of the court.

You didn’t know why you’d agreed to attend Johnson’s party with her. You’re upset over the team's recent performances, crowded with school work, and your parents had been bugging you about their holiday plans all week. Clear to say, your head was too full to attend a party tonight, and you were solely going for the unquestionable loyalty you had towards your friends.

Nessie had been annyong you the entire month about this party. Johnson was this frat guy she shared a few classes with, and she had been drooling over him since the semester started. So when he personally invited her to tonight’s party, it became the only thing she talked about for weeks and sealed the next steps into her imaginary relationship with the guy.

When the coach finally decided that he had enough of calling you all shitty athletes and dismissed you for the day, a swarm of players desperately headed out to the changing rooms in hopes of a well deserved shower. 

You, on the other hand, were stopped in your way by your friend, who had rushed towards you as soon as she heard the coach say “See you tomorrow”.

“Let’s go?” she pouted, making you roll your eyes at her very evident desperation.

“I just need to take a shower.” you bemoaned, feeling disgusted by the sweat and the sticky sensation all over your body. You had been practicing for hours, rolling on the floor, running around. You just wanted to get rid of all traces of sweat and dirt from your body. Her pout, however, only grew larger. “Do you really want me to show up all stinky to this party?”

In all honesty, you didn’t really want to show up at all. But you had promised, and your damned loyalty wouldn’t allow you to back off now. She wanted you to go, or more so need you there for moral support, either if he came onto her and she didn’t know what to do, or the unspoken possibilities of him ignoring her or finding him with someone else.

“You do stink a little. Please, be quick” she moaned, hands together in a praying position, and you gave her an amused smile and a push towards the side, clearing your way out of where you stood. 

Following in the direction the hoard of girls had just walked through, you jogged your way to the locker room in hopes of finally taking that well deserved shower. However, you hadn’t counted on the handball team also practicing till the late hours of the night, and now the locker room looked more like an electronics store on black friday than an university bathroom.

Each and everyone of the shower cabins were full, and ladies lined outside its doors waiting for the moment they’d be free. It would take you a lot longer than you had imagined, and you could already feel your best friend fuming outside if you had to make her wait any longer than you had promised. 

Grabbing your bags, you walked out and in her direction. “Let’s go. I’ll change in your car.”

“But you haven’t showered?” she inquired.

“We’re never gonna make it in time. Locker rooms are full.” you stated, taking her hand and trying to walk away, to which she held her ground and refused to move.

“You’re not going like this,” her features softened, and she looked at you with kindness in her eyes. “You want to shower, so go.” she ordered, arms crossing over the deep cleavage of her bright red top, in sort of a motherly way. “I’ll wait.”

“Johnson is waiting for you” you tried to persuade, but she shook her head again.

“Party is not ending anytime soon. And looking on the brighter side, we’ll get him thinking of me all the time, wondering if we’re coming or not, you know.”

You gave her a smile, admiring how her little mind worked. Fixing the bag on your shoulder, you turned to go inside the room you once were, but seeing girls hanging around the entrance made you give up instantly. “But, there’s so many people. We could go home and shower there in the same amount of time.”

“And cross the city twice?” she exclaimed, throwing her arms up. “Isn’t there another place you can shower?”

“There’s the boys locker room.” you remembered.

“Are there any boys’ sports teams practicing today?”

“Not that I remember.” And holding your hand, she dragged you around the corridors towards the boys’ locker room. 

The two of you sneaked around every corner, checking to see if anyone was around. Failing to meet anybody, you arrived at the room in no time. It was empty and you could hear your lone footsteps echoing on the gray walls.

“This smells so much of testosterone.” Nessie noted, looking around the room like a little kid in Disneyland, but face scrunched in disgust.

“It’s the boy’s locker room, Nessie. Of course it’d smell like that.” you laughed, stacking your clothes and a towel over the door of the stall you had chosen to shower in, on the far corner of the locker room. When you fish for your shampoo and conditioner from inside your bag, however, you’re met with the complete absence of both. “Nessie…?” you called, hearing a hum in response. “I forgot my shampoo and conditioner.”

“Are you serious!?” she screamed, and not daring to look at the side to see her, you could picture her standing there with her arms on her waist, and the biggest annoyed expression on her face. “I have some in the car, just wait right there.” she sighted, immediately running past you on her way to the door.

“It’s not like I can’t go anywhere.” you tried to lighten the mood as you heard her footsteps leaving your earshot. “Oh! And get me soap too! Nessie, I love you!”

You watched her disappear through the large double doors leading to the corridors, the rapid sounds of her footsteps bouncing off the walls and into your ears, a big contrast to the otherwise silent room you were left in once she was gone from earshot.

A deep exhale left your lungs. The silence and emptiness, somehow, a much more comfortable ambience. Still wrapped around a towel, you grabbed your bag from where it stood on one of the benches, leaving the locker area and making way to an empty shower stall. 

Gladly, the university opted out of open showers and gave students individual stalls instead, thankful for the privacy and the chance to feel a bit like home while getting cleaned. Entering through the grey door, you lay your bag on a small shelf and hang your towel on a hook beside it. The humidity already making your skin sticky.

The warm water falling on your body feels like a pain reliever, as your muscles immediately relax and the temperature helps in keeping you cozy. Breathy, tired moans escaped your lips while you enjoyed the sensation, entering a bubble of solitude, warmth and peace.

With your eyes closed as you let water fall down your face, you almost didn’t notice the sounds around you. Your head was far away from that bathroom, thinking of a place where mean spirited, annoying coaches and teammates that loved to complain about your smallest mistakes did not exist, but the far sound of engines losing power broke you from dreamland.

Opening your eyes to complete darkness, you feel a pit form in your stomach and your heart skipped out of beat. It wasn’t like you were scared of the dark, but the thought of being alone in the dark exactly where you were, sure made you a tidy bit nervous.

Grabbing your towel from the hook, you loosely wrapped it around yourself. “Hello?” you called out, in hopes your friend would have already returned, but the echoing of your voice through the room was enough of a response: you were indeed alone. “Hello?” you called once more, head peeking out of the shower box to find nothing but darkness.

Stepping outside, your wet feet met the cold stone floors, leaving behind puddles as you ventured your way into the darkness. The sound of dripping water adding to the tension and the weird feeling you got on the base of your stomach. Shit. This could not get any worse.

A soft, barely audible, screech sounded from right in front of you, making you freeze in place. Your breath heavied, and you tried to focus on hearing every sound in that room, fight or flight instincts ready to act, only catching the sound of more dripping water from the same direction of the screeching sound.

The locker area seemed to be even darker than the space you were before. Extending your hands to guide you through the dimness, you finally felt the wooden touch of the lockers as you slowly turned the corner into the empty area.

However, arms still extended in front of you, you suddenly hit something standing in your way… It wasn’t hard like the concrete pillars or the wood of the lockers, it was rather soft, smooth, cold and slightly wet. Sliding your hand over it, you suddenly found a crack and… 

“OH MY FUCKING GOD!” you screamed, stepping back swiftly and hitting your back against something hard, losing balance and falling ass first onto the floor. “Ugh”

“Are you alright?” you heard a deep masculine voice fill the room from where your arms had just reached, but you were too scared out of your mind to form any sort of coherent answer. If your scream a few moments earlier didn’t give away that you were not a boy, you wouldn’t be giving him anymore hints you were not the kind meant to be using this room. “Hello? Are you dead?” he called out one more time.

“No!” you replied and immediately covered your mouth. But what the hell kind of question was that?

“Good, I wouldn’t want someone’s cause of death to be touching my butt.”

For that, you were thankful all you could see was black, as whoever it was would not see your cheeks turning redder than they’d ever been. And then you realized, upon feeling the sticky coldness of the tiles on your butt, that you were ass naked on the floor. But not only ass naked, full naked, as your towel had fallen somewhere after your scare.

“Are you alright?” he asked again. “If you don’t know, I’m extending my hand to help you up.”

Closing your eyes shut, you mentally slapped yourself for getting into this situation, and mentally punched your friend for convincing you to get there in the first place. 

Making sure to avoid his stretched arms, you pushed yourself forward on your knees, failing to stand up on the wet puddle you’d formed on the floor.

As if the universe was conspiring against you, though, the lights suddenly were turned on, and when you looked up, you were face to “face” with a large bulk hidden under a white towel. Looking further up, you met with deep blue eyes that made you lose balance once more.

“You aren’t supposed to be here, are you?” he questioned, one eyebrow popping up. But you never got a chance to reply, as both your eyes shifted to the coming sound from out the door. 

Multiple voices screaming out incoherent words you were too nervous to decipher. “Oh shit.” you heard from above your head, and suddenly felt a hold on your upper arm, as the floor quickly moved further from you. “Here, take this.” the boy handed you his towel, exposing himself while he desperately dragged you from your frozen position.

Shoving you inside your shower booth, he disappeared for a second before joining you inside.

“What are you doing?” you asked exasperated, holding both your towel and your eyes for dear life.

“Saving your ass?” he replied, pushing your head down so you were sitting on the floor once more. “Get low or they’ll see you.”

The voices only got louder, as what you now suspected were the basketball team joined you in the changing rooms.

“Can’t you guys have the decency of not throwing your towels on the floor?” you heard someone scream from outside, finding out where your towel had made it to after slipping away from your grip.

A soft chuckle grabbed your attention, and you looked up from your place in the corner of the booth to find the boy who had just saved you from total embarrassment with a huge smirk glued on his lips.

“What are you laughing at?” you mouthed.

“You.” he mouthed back, dramatically accentuating his lip movements while pointing his finger at you as you only pouted in return. Throwing his head back in a silent laugh, you stopped to notice the white strand of hair bouncing along his head movements and hanging on his wet forehead. “What are you doing in the boys locker room anyways?”

“It thought it was empty.” you answered sharply, trying to speak as low as you could, but the boy grew his eyes at you, placing a finger on his lips to shut you up.

A shadow appeared from beneath the door, and soon someone tried to open the door to your stall. Freaked out, you instinctively hid further into your corner, while the boy rushed to hold the door closed.

“Kinda busy, mate.” he warned, resting his body weight on the door.

“Wha... Who is it?” asked the voice from outside.

“It’s Jason Todd. From weightlifting?” 

Upon finally knowing the name of today’s savior, you tried to scan your memory to find any recollection of that name, perhaps hearing that it once, but Jason Todd was total news to you, not so much his naked body standing right in front of you.

“Jay! Did not see you come in!” the boy from outside exclaimed.

“Mikey, hey!” Jason replied awkwardly. “Yeah, hmm… I was here before you guys arrived.”

“In the darkness?” the voice pitch got higher.

“Vibes and shit.” he told, looking at you to find your wide eyes and a look that said what the fuck more than words itself could. “Kinda liked it.” he stuck his tongue out at you.

“Alright, man. Nice shower.” As Jason thanked the guy, Mikey, in return, you watched as the shadow dissipated into the noisy room outside your door. Exhaling a deep breath you didn’t notice you were holding, you allowed relief to consume your body for a brief second.

Jason seemed to relax too, as you watched his shoulder fall down as he turned back in your direction, turning on the shower and getting under the water.

You wanted to complain. You really did, as your towel grew wetter by the second. But finally paying attention to his hanging penis just inches from you took out of your courage to say anything back at him.

To say you were embarrassed was an understatement. Your face must have looked bright red, like a firemen’s truck, because god damn it, there was a naked man showering right beside you.

Holding your towel, now soaked in water, tighter to your chest, you promised yourself not to look, not to glimpse, not even peek at your side for as long as this torturous experience had to last. You knew soon Nessie would come back, and she would find a way to get you out of there. Or so you wished.

When a drop of white foam fell on your cheek, the strong smell of coconut filled your nostrils, forcing you to look up in exasperation. ”Are you fucking for real?!” you whisper-screamed, as you watched him wash the shampoo off his hair.

“Might as well make the most out of this situation.” he simply shrugged, leaving wide eyed and angry.

Shaking your head, you first caught a glimpse of that same colored water falling down his extremely toned calves, and followed their way up to where his legs met his torso, then the well molded line that led to his groin.

Your eyes fell once more, this time for longer, on his member, thick, flaccid but already extensive, and you swore your mouth watered. Swallowing dry, you daren't look up any further, promising yourself to keep your eyes glued at the door. But a scoff brought your attention higher up.

Jason’s eyes held yours for what felt like minutes, darked than you remembered, as his face was decorated with a devilish smirk that had your core feeling… things. He looked at you from under his lashes, trapping you, holding you down without even touching your body. Then, he shifted on his feet, moving his body just slightly in your direction.

You knew what he wanted. You also knew what you wanted, too. 

Biting your bottom lip, trying to hold yourself and your thoughts, you wondered if that would even be a good idea. But you were already fucked anyways, might as well make the expression a reality.

With one more look at the gray door, you hoped, prayed, it kept you safe. Looking up to meet Jason’s darkened eyes, you made sure to hold your gaze on his, looking at him with feigned innocence, with dirt filled intentions, and an almost impatient hunger. 

Letting your towel go from your hold, you get on your knees in front of him, not yet letting his eyes go.

He was not smiling anymore, eyes seemingly drowsy from just looking at yours, mouth almost hanging open, saved by the small part of his brain holding him together. And then your eyes dropped.

You noticed his dick had hardened a bit, just from looking at you, on your knees, ready to submit to him in the dirtiest place he could ever (or never) have imagined. Your breath was heavy, leaving your nose right into his member and teasing him even more.

You licked him, from the tip to the base, eyes trapped on his face and the way it contorted, head hanging back and lips trapped between his teeth. Taking a hold of him from the base, you moved your hand up and down his length, prepping him up, feeling the hardness forming in your palms before going in with your mouth.

His size quickly filled your cheeks, as you pushed him deep into your throat. He moaned loud, and your eyes warningly flashed up to meet his again, telling him to keep quiet just like he did with you before. You let him calm down before moving your head again, up and down his length, hands assisting on the parts that you couldn’t fill in your mouth.

He couldn’t moan, but his body was giving you the right answers to your touch, shaking feverishly, as you sucked him, licked him, devoured him. Oftentimes, you would feel his tip reaching your throat, making you gag and his body jolt from the sensation.

His hands wrapped around your hair, pushing you deeper, harder, as you had to let go of his member to keep yourself steady, holding his tights for support. He was fucking your throat like there was no tomorrow, your tears mixing with the water falling on your head, his eyes closed, enjoying the sensation, and soon you felt the bitter taste of him release hitting your tongue.

Swallowing all, you still hang your tongue out, waiting, begging for more, but he chose to paint your breast with the last few bits of his cum, reaching his hands to massage it all over, holding and picking at your nipple while doing so, the sensation already driving you wild.

Grabbing you by the arm, he pulled you up to your feet, mouth going straight to you boobs, licking his own cum off it, sucking and biting your nipples, drawing breathy moans from deep within your throat. His mouth engulfed your entire boob, or it felt like so, as your head rolled back and he had to hold your hips so you wouldn’t fall.

Pinning you against the wall, he licked his way up your breast to your mouth, tongue going in first and trapping you in a wet, desperate kiss, as you moaned against his lips. Going their way up from your hips, making sure to explore every bit of skin, every curve on your body, his hands came to rest on your neck.

At first, delicately holding your chin up, as he continued to make out with you, sucking your tongue, leaving you breathless. Then, choking you tight while his other played with your clit.

Your body squirmed, jolted, lost all control under his touch. Looking at you through his deep blue eyes, he smirked at you, drowned in ecstasy, in pleasure he was giving you. Inserting two fingers, he moved them quickly inside of you, gluing his mouth on your again before any noise could come out of it.

Quickly, you hit your high and came all over his fingers, as he continued to finger you through it all, slowing down just a little bit at a time.

Letting you ride out your high, he watched you carefully, the hand leaving your neck to hold you by the hips. Lifting his hand up to his lips, he licked them off your orgasm, going back to wet his fingers again, this time placing them on your lips. You sucked them off just like he had done before, and he groaned right before your face.

Pulling your legs around his hips, Jason looked back over his shoulder, staring at the door making sure it was still closed, before looking at you, hand moving up and down his member. He stared at you, eyes meeting each other for the billionth time, and he nodded, asking for permission.

You gave him your dirtiest smirk, arching your back to meet his groin with your pussy and he quickly inserted his tip in you. Slowing, as if trying to drive you crazy, he pushed inside. Once he was fully in, you could feel your walls stretching, trying to fit him all, getting used to the thickness. It hurt a bit, having grown unused to the sensation since the last time you had sex, but he was sweet, kissing you slowly till you gave him any indication to continue.

Wrapping your arms over his shoulder, you pulled him closer, speeding up your kiss and moving your hips around his cock. He let you lead the moment for as long as you could, assisting in holding you up, but when he felt your movements weakening he held you harder against the wall as he thrusted deep inside you.

You were glad for the water, and the many boys screaming and making noises outside, that your own sounds were ignored by everyone else but you two.

Jason’s fingers were printed on where he held you up, still sucking your tongue, as your hands marked his back in what you wish was forever.

His thrusts grew faster, needier, and he struggled to keep quiet. It didn’t take long till he creamed your walls, biting your lip to hold his moan. You felt the silvery taste of blood, but you didn’t want him to stop. And so he didn’t, searching for your release through sloppy thrust and a finger rubbing at your clit.

“J-jay… I’m gonna cum.” you desperately said, begging him for help in not screaming your high out to the entire locker room to hear. Licking and sucking at your throat, he had to quickly move back up and land his lips on yours, as you came all over his dick.

You two kissed for a while longer, bodies weak but a hunger to continue for even longer. 

He let legs fall back to the floor with care, caressing the spot where his fingerprints were printed on. It was gonna be purple by the morning, but you didn’t care at all. 

When his lips left yours, he let out a chuckle, enjoying every second of your neediness. Jason was going down, kissing the base of you torso, when a loud scream came from outside, stealing your attention from his warm lips.

“OH MY GOD, THERE’S AN NBA PLAYER AT THE FRONT OF THE COMPLEX?!” screamed a female voice, as like kids running after the ice cream truck, you heard footsteps, doors banging and questions of “who?” and “where?” being throwing around.

You pushed Jason aside, recognizing that scream even with a misty head. “Y/n?” you heard Nessie call. “Y/n, please tell me you’re alive!”

“Nessie, I’m here.” you replied, hearing she thank God and another 10 different entities altogether.

“Let’s go, before they realize no NBA player would find themselves in this hell hole.”

Turning back, you bumped into Jason’s chest, who wrapped his arms around your middle. 

“Wouldn’t she let us finish?” he begged, mouth traveling above yours.

“Jay” you tried to form anything, any sentence, but his presence, his existence, making you drowsy. “I can’t risk it. I need to go.”

He couldn’t let you, crashing your lips once, twice, three times, before you had to push him away, with not much success.

“I’ll be here every practice, every…”

“Volleyball practice?” you completed, arching your eyebrows.

“Yeah, every fucking volleyball practice.” he said between kissing and marking your neck. “Waiting for you, in the ladies bathroom if you want.”

You gave him a chuckle, trying to untangle him from your body, although you desperately wanted to stay. “Yeah, I don’t think so.” His head bobbed up, looking sad all of a sudden. “You can meet anywhere else that you want, but let’s leave locker rooms behind.”

“I’ll hold you on that promise.” he said, eyebrowns up challengely. “Y/n.”

Your head rolled back at the mere way he pronounced your name, almost failing to leave, almost dropping yourself in his arms again, when Nessie called you once again.

“I need to go.” you told him, grabbing your bag and the rest of your stuff from the shelf.

“Y/n.” Jason called.

“Jay, I’m serious” you moaned, not holding your beaming smile.

“Y/n.” he repeated, as you opened the stall door.

“Ja…” 

“Your towel.” he interrupted, holding you your damped towel as you noticed you didn’t have anything covering your body.

Taking it from his hands and wrapping them around your body, you didn’t even seem to notice its wetness, and neither did Jason, you two still immersed in the early moments to care about anything else.

“Thank you.” you whispered, running as fast as you could while leaving a pool of water on your way out.

“You’re soaking the floor!” Nessie pointed, pulling your hand as you ran in the opposite direction you had come from.

“Oh Nessie, this is the last thing you want me to talk about right now.”

[sirenedeslily]

[ ✸ ] › STURNIOLO MASTERLIST.

MATTHEW STURNIOLO ⸝⸝ oneshots.

poison in the water — ❛ the preacher's daughter, the town's beloved sweetheart, harboured a pain far deeper than anyone could have ever imagined. matt, the boy who had found solace in her presence, struggled to understand how the love of his life could slip away so tragically. now, he must learn to live without his cherished fawn, accepting his fate of being forever tied to her memory, unable to let go of that fateful day. ❜

hold me — ❛ when matt mentions his girlfriend, his fans instantly erupt in excitement, pleading for him to invite her on the live stream. ❜

when memories snow — ❛ a tormenting and bitter autumn fades into an even colder winter, unrelenting flurries shrouding two lovers in a painful veil of memories and grief. a girl, forever haunted by what was lost and what can only unfold beneath the snow, remains trapped in a ceaseless cycle of naive love and unyielding despair’s. she finds solace in the one soul who saw her, truly saw her and gazed lovingly upon her bare, scarred flesh. ❜

juno — ❛ your shy, out-of-place boyfriend navigates the glamorous chaos of new york fashion week to support his supermodel girlfriend. ❜

my little town — ❛ it’s the 2000s, and in stars hollow, rebellious matt sturniolo, tattooed and brilliant, somehow needs tutoring sessions. yn greenaway, somehow gets pulled into his world of distractions, leaving them both questioning what they really want. ❜

cinnamon girl — ❛ a hardened fighter finds unexpected tenderness in the arms of a gentle soul, where love becomes both his salvation and his deepest fear. ❜

from the tree — ❛ matt thought the crash was the first tremor, the first sign that everything was unraveling. but when yn vanished, the woods grew colder, the trees twisted into shadows, and nothing—not even their love—could hide from the dark that followed. ❜

CHRISTOPHER STURNIOLO ⸝⸝ oneshots.

your best american girl — ❛ in the bustling streets of new york city, a struggling artist burdened by her mother's chaos meets chris, a vibrant spirit who reignites her dormant passion for art. as their connection deepens through museum visits and intimate conversations, y/n is torn between the weight of her sacrifices and the allure of newfound love. when their paths inevitably part, chris must confront the heartache of losing the muse who transformed his art, while y/n faces the painful reality of her shattered dreams, forever haunted by the ephemeral beauty of their once-shared moments. ❜

mascara — ❛ you find yourself in a dark alley, heart pounding as you lock eyes with chris sturniolo, the cocky frontman of a band. as a man-eating demon, the hunger within you stirs, and the thrill of the chase ignites something primal. with only a few moments to spare, can you resist the urge to claim him as your next victim, or will he awaken desires you never knew you had? ❜

love me like a sailer — ❛ the siren, cursed by the sea and feared by the world, never imagined love could find her—until chris did. in his eyes, she wasn’t a creature of the depths but a soul worth saving. their love, tender and fleeting, was a defiance of fate, a brief escape from the doom that lingered. but when the sea came for her, leaving only her lifeless body on the shore, chris was left devastated. consumed by grief, he could not let her go, forever haunted by her memory, bound to the tragic final moment where love slipped through his fingers. ❜

camden — ❛ a quiet ache lingers, but the warmth of her lover’s presence reminds her that healing begins in the spaces between words. ❜

MATTHEW STURNIOLO ⸝⸝ blurbs.

🔖 — ❛ a quiet, late-night moment where two people fall deeper into each other’s embrace, wrapped in warmth, music, and the certainty that they belong together. ❜

🔖 — ❛ matt is tired of sharing you. ❜

🔖 — ❛ ‘tis the season, i guess. ❜

CHRISTOPHER STURNIOLO ⸝⸝ blurbs.

🔖 — ❛ chris craves your presence in every aspect of his life, even if it means matching nails with his beloved girl. ❜

🔖 — ❛ chris can’t help but love it when his girl speaks spanish, even when she’s hurling insults at him. ❜

🔖 — ❛ trying on halloween costumes would be a lot easier if chris could just keep his hands to himself. ❜

MATTHEW STURNIOLO ⸝⸝ MISC.

video obsession — series; ❛ matt sturniolo was known for many things: his striking looks, his dominance in the gaming world, and his complete inability to keep his cool around beautiful women. so it’s almost poetic—almost—that his fiery temper explodes during an intense fortnite match, broadcasted live to thousands, only to discover later that the player who completely shattered his pride was y/n greenblatt, one of the most beloved streamers in the community—and undeniably beautiful. ❜

pink + white — headcanons; ❛ model!reader. ❜

🪽— moodboard; ❛ pitw’s visuals. ❜

🪽— moodboard; ❛ wmits’ visuals. ❜

00 — texts; ❛ actress!reader && singer!matt. ❜

CHRISTOPHER STURNIOLO ⸝⸝ MISC.

ʬʬ ⸝⸝ ʬʬ — smau; ❛ idol!reader && model!chris. ❜

ʬʬ — smau; ❛ skater!chris && bambi!reader. ❜

00 ⸝⸝ 01 — texts; ❛ bambi!reader && skater!chris. ❜

✶ SIRENEDESLILY | 2O24. do not plagiarize any of my work.

[fanartlover1234]

A DEADLY THING

Y/n is ready to get revenge on Bridget and her boyfriend Hook is all in for it

Captain James Hook × Cruella de vil sister!reader

Based on a request from my dm

Hook x VK girlfriend where instead of just Uliana who turns into a flamingo it's also the reader who turns into a flamingo and plans to get revenge on Bridget

Y/n truly was never the one to go extreme on revenge, but now she was fuming.

It was barely past morning when Bridgets flamingo faethers, thosr stupid feathers turned her into a flamingo.

She and the rest where minding their own buisness in shadows when they noticer poor little Bridget handing out treat bribe as usual.

Uliana and Y/n couldnt help but justess with her a little.

Uliana snached the cupcakes and took off the feathers as Y/n slowly made her way there, her black heals clicking as her black mini dress hughed her curves.

"Thats Y/n De Vil, Cruellas younger sister and maybe the only one worse then Uliana" Bridget explained but quieted down when the girl steped infront of her and kicking the fallen tray of cupcakes at her, smearing Bridgets shoes.

"Oops" sound left from her lips before she steped back leaning on Ulianas shouldr and they split the feather four amd four.

"Wait thats too much" Bridget mumbled.

"Be silenent you little -" cough followed by another as all stepes back when Uliana and Y/n both began turning pink and not few seconds later both were chasing Bridget as the pink haired girl ran for her life.

Both girls ran to the side couryard before a push on they backs made them tumble into the fountain.

When they dove up Uliana kepr screaming about getting revenge while Y/n only cursed under her breath in annoyance.

She stumbles over as Hook steped forward taking his jacker off amd placing it over her shoulder.

"Im gonna kill her, im gonna make her pay for what she did" she mumbled all the way to the dorm while Hook only stayed silent too afraid fo get between her anger and her.

When they finaly reached her dorm she stood as the boy leaned on the door frame.

"Well if you need help ploting, y'know where to find me darling" he said reaching in her hair to pull out a feather.

A smirk on his lips as she annoyingly smiled when she blowed the feather from hims friends.

When she said goodbye and closed the door, she was met with Uliana.

"You know what im thinking?" She asked as she poped a candy in her mouth with a tenickle.

"Meet with the rest by the lagoon in 2 " Y/n said before walking in the bathroom when Uliana left.

In two hours the girl was making her way to lagoon and into the fish cave.

"You are late" Uliana said as she crossed her arms.

"Quit scolding and start ploting, you sound like merlin otherwise" Y/n said before walking over to Hook who swing his hooked arm over her soulder.

"How about we make her walk the plank" Hook questioned.

"Darlin' thats too easy" Y/n said brushing under her boyfriends chin with her red nails "we need something worse"

"Prick her with a thousand thorns" Malificent said.

"And what she fall asleep?" Uliana asked annoyed.

"Let burn her to a crisp" Hades obviously said while he's hair set in blue flames.

"Yeah let burn her to crisp" Morgie voted in on what hades had said but Y/n steped in annoyed.

"No, it should be worse, worse, worse than all of these" she said walking up the stairs as Uliana casted a spell so it would bring a perfect punishment for the pinky girl.

"Revenge should be vicious in whatever we do to that poor unfortunate soul should be ten times more cruel" Uliana said as she performed the spell "Calling all spirits of the Black Lagoon show me your recipe fit for her doom toxically sweet with a side of pure spite i need the perfect revenge that will bite"

The light opened as it showed a book and Y/n screamed in annoyance.

"What's this? A book, that's it? Iasked for a painful punishment"

Uliana stoped her when the plan begin to show itself "But hold up, wait, this might be evil on a plate. So I'ma serve her what she deserves, what she deserves "

"And that's justice, dressed up like the sweetest dessert. Perfect" Y/n voted in as she laughed out.

After figuring out revenge Hook and Y/n walked to the dorms.

Hook sat on the girls bed while she got ready, she pulled her black silk sleeping dress on and walked over to Hook who watched her intesly.

"If you keep eye-fucking me, i might not make it tomorrow" she said as she steped arma reach away from him.

"I dont need to eye fuck you, i do it in person rather my sweetling" he said pulling her on his lap both her leg on either side of him.

"Well perhaps after, i wish to see her poor little face when she turns" Y/n said as sne brushed her hand through his brown hair.

The boy smirked at her pulling her closer as he fell back on the bed now both laying down as the girl still sat on his lips.

"Oh i love it when you're wicked" he said.

"Is that so?" The girl asked mockingly before kissing the boy under her.

This was so fun to write and i hope i did a good job at this :)

[enhashoutout]

Please Only Look At Me (Fujio x reader)

Have I written a Fujio x childhood friend reader post before? Yes

Am I gonna do it again and again because Fujio + this trope is my favorite thing? Absolutely

Genre: Fluff

___ is used in place of y/n to address the reader

Reader is written with female attributes, please feel free to change these while you read if you do not identify as such

Warnings: none other than like a few kisses

I listened to "From The Start" by Laufey while writing if you want to listen to it while you read.

Inspired by my bestie @high-and-low-all-the-way 's post High and Low reactions Them as Love tropes

The one where Fujio isn't gonna lose the girl he's been in love with his whole life to some rando who doesn't know you like he does.

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___ and Fujio have been friends since they were kids. The two lived in the same housing estate at Hope Hill and were over at each other's places all the time so that they weren't home alone.

Both kids were very outgoing growing up but ___ started to retreat into a shell as puberty hit because growing up as a girl with people telling you how to act and be took a toll on her. Fujio stayed the same, extroverted and excited to make friends. The only people who get to see ___ extroverted were Fujio, Madoka, Seiji, Arata, Shinya, and Masaya. Yui too once they became friends through Madoka.

Fujio never treated ___ any differently. He saw the changes in her personality but didn't mind because he still got to see your extroverted personality when you were together. Not going separate ways once you grew older was already more than Fujio could ask for because he was scared you would grow up and realize you didn't want to be friends anymore, wanting to hang out with different people.

Fujio staying the same even through puberty, made ___ question her feelings for him. It’s not like he treated her any differently from everyone else, so why does she like him more than a friend? Because he's nice? Well, he's nice to everyone so it doesn't mean he feels the same way. Being nice is the bare minimum, so why is it different when Fujio is nice to her?

Fujio on the other hand thought his feelings were obvious. He waits for ___ to pick her up from school, even on late nights where she stays after for after school club events. He shares his food, and won't let anyone else help him patch up his injuries because "only ___ knows how to do it correctly". Fujio is brave in all situations... except for his feelings for ___; so he thought he would let his actions speak for him instead of saying it directly. She would surely pick up on the signs... right? Wrong. ___ is convinced he's just being nice because he is a nice person.

The only people that know for sure ___ likes Fujio are Madoka and Yui. She chose not to tell the boys because she was scared one of them would accidentally slip and tell Fujio, scared that he might not feel the same. More people know Fujio likes ___. Seiji, Arata, Shinya, Masaya, Tsukasa, Jamuo, and the rest of the boys who follow him. They always hear him talking about you and how much he likes you but doesn't know if you feel the same because you don't show any signs of feeling the same way. You don't blush at his words or actions, and you never seem nervous to be around him. (The truth is that you've been hiding your crush on him for so long you've gotten good at pretending he doesn't affect you in any way when he really does.)

Madoka, Seiji, Arata, Shinya, and Masaya are sure you both like each other but don't know what to do with you guys. The friend group was sworn to secrecy by the respective friend, so they weren't allowed to give the other person a little push in the right direction. It seemed you were both doomed to not know how the other felt until a certain group date was crashed.

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Madoka, Shinya, Yui, Sawamura, and a few other girls from the band club and their boyfriends were all going on a group date. Madoka, Yui, and the girls got you to tag along because they said that the boys would bring a few friends who are single also.

"I don't know guys, I don't have someone to go with. It'll be boring if I just sit there while you're all talking to your boyfriends. I don't want to be a third wheel to four different couples."

"We took care of that! The other girls told us that their boyfriends have friends who are also single and a few of the other band girls who are also single are coming too. So, you guys can all do blind-dates or even speed-dating!" (Yui)

"I don't know about this guys...."

"Come on ___, it'll be fun! Maybe you'll like one of them and stop liking Fujio," said Yui.

"Pleaseee, she's liked him since we were 6. I don't know if she'll ever stop," said Madoka.

"No need to call me out like that Madoka."

"It's true! You've liked him since we were kids. But take what Yui is saying into consideration. Maybe you'll like one of the guys that comes on the date."

"Okay fine." The other girls hugged you, squealing with excitement; happy that you agreed to come along.

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The next day after school, you guys walked to a café nearby, meeting the boys there. Your friends ran to give their boyfriends a hug, you following behind.

"Hey ___." (Shinya)

"Hey Shinya."

"Hey ___! What are you doing here?" (Sawamura)

"Madoka and Yui convinced me to come and join the blind dating. Told me it would be fun. I figured it wouldn't hurt to just mingle."

"Guys, let's go inside!" (Yui)

The group began to file into the cafe, but not before Sawamura looked at Shinya and mouthed "Text Fujio" before they all went in. Shinya didn't need to be told twice, he was already thinking about it, Sawamura just helped double confirm his thoughts. All the boys who were friends with Fujio knew he liked you, everyone was surprised none of them have spilled the secret to you. I guess that comes with being loyal to Fujio. Both guys knew that Fujio would flip if he knew you were here on a blind date.

As everyone was waiting to be seated, Shinya pulled out his phone to text Fujio.

Hey Did you know that ___ is also here?

Fujio was hanging out on the rooftop with the others when his phone buzzed. He picked it up and read the notification from Shinya, almost spitting out his drink after reading the messages.

F: What do you mean ___ is there?! Aren't you on a group date?! S: Yeah. I guess some of the other guys here brought their single friends and the girls and guys who are single are blind dating while the rest of us are on a group date. Sawamura and I just wanted to let you know she's here. F: Where are you guys? S: The café near Seiho Girl High School.

"Guys I have to go!" shouted Fujio as he ran out of Oya. The others looked at him, a bit baffled because he ran out before any of them could answer. Fujio began running towards the café. He ran and ran and didn't stop until he had arrived outside of the café. Fujio quickly entered and looked for you, seeing you talking to some random boy from another school.

"Fujio! What are you doing here?" Shinya asked out loud, pretending like he wasn't the one who notified Fujio of your whereabouts.

Fujio walked over to your table and grabbed your hand, pulling you out of the café with him without a word.

"Fujio? Fuijo, where are we going? Fujio I left my date back there by himself because you pulled me out of the café!"

Fujio turned around to look at you, not letting go of your wrist. "Don't look at anyone else."

"Huh?"

"Don't look at anyone else. Don't look at other boys. Please only look at me."

"Fujio what are you talking about?"

"I like you ___. I've liked you for a long time ___, since we were 6 years old. I've liked you every day since we met and I've been trying to show you I like you since we were 10. I haven't been able to tell you because I was scared you didn't feel the same, but I'm telling you now. All the boys know I like you, I told all of them. When Shinya and Sawamura saw you here they texted me and I came as fast as I could. I can't lose you to someone else when I've loved you my whole life ___. I love you ___! So please don't look at anyone else."

A moment of silence passed between the two as they continued to stare at each other. "Well at least accept or reject me ___. Don't leave me hanging," said Fujio.

___ grabbed a hold of Fujio's other hand, getting up on her tip toes, and kissed the boy. Fujio let go of ___'s hands to wrap his arms around her waist as he melted into the kiss. ___'s hands going up to grab his shoulders. The two finally pulled away when they needed air.

"You should've just told me that from the beginning Fujio."

"I know. I'm sorry it took me so long to tell you. Be my girlfriend?"

"Yes, I would love to finally be your girlfriend."

Fujio hugged ___ and spun them in a circle. "I've been waiting my whole life to hear you say that."

"In my defense, you took a whole lifetime to ask."

He let go of the hug to look at her. "But I've been showing you that I liked you since forever!"

"Showing me how?!"

"By being extra nice to you!"

"That's not valid! You're nice to everyone!"

The two held hands and walked off, continuing to bicker back and forth about whether or not Fujio's actions spoke loud enough to convey his feelings or if he should've just verbally confessed sooner. Behind a bush, Tsukasa, Jamuo, Todoroki, Yuken, Tsuji, and Shibaman hid to look at the two.

"Well, now they're dating, but they still bicker the same way they did when we were all 6." (Jamuo)

"I don't think that'll ever change about them." (Tsukasa)

"Finally! Now we won't have to hear him mope about how ___ doesn't return his feelings anymore!" (Tsuji)

"Yeah but now it's gonna turn into him talking about how much he loves her instead." (Shibaman)

Yuken was taking a picture of the two walking hand in hand.

"Uhhh what are you doing?" (Todoroki)

"Sending it to the Housen-Suzuran group chat obviously." (Yuken)

"You guys have a group chat?" (Todoroki)

"Yeah. It's new. Made it since Rao and Sachio are friends now." (Yuken)

"Are you updating Rao on Fujio's love life?" (Tsukasa)

"Yes. And making Binzo jealous." (Yuken)

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TA-DAH! You made it to the end! This was just something small and fun I wrote today when I got a break from class and training at my new job. I miss writing😭 I need to get back into writing more, I didn't get to post anything in the Summer. This blog is gonna see an insane amount of self-indulgent fluff fics being posted because I'm gonna need those to get through my Master's program this year (help I'm dreading it already and this is only my second day)😭😂

© This work is copyrighted by enhashoutout. I only post my work on this Tumblr account. I do not allow people to repost or translate my work without my permission. If you do see anyone doing so, please let me know. Writers work hard on their stories, please don't be a crappy human and take our work. ♡

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[itstheendofthegoddamnworld]

Swallowed Whole by The Flame (Messmer the Impaler x Tarnished! Reader) 5

MASTERLIST

PREVIOUS | NEXT

Summary: You go on a hunt to find Redmane Freyja.

A/N: Oh boy, another fight scene that I cannot write. This chapter mentions scenes of violence: blood, gore, swearing - all the fun things.

A03 link

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Chapter 5: Challenge

"If thee dare betray me, I shall maketh sure thou art never blessed by mine own mother's grace again."

It haunts you his exact words, whispered as if death was watching your every move.

It's a challenge, though one where he can judge you for how foolish you are. If he really wanted you to do all this for his loyalty, you would've rather faced the golden hippopotamus again.

You tell yourself you'll prove him wrong, and wipe that smug attitude away when you return. That is if you do it in time. There is a sense of doom to your mission, one you think could go wrong. Redmane Freyja - someone you didn't get the chance to speak to - is a warrior through and through. Capable of standing for herself, and impressive in her prowess. 

Having followed the Moorth Highway south, avoiding furnace golems and trolls that sit by ransacked carriages. By the time you see the ruins on the second night, darkness has fallen, and rain slashes in front of you. You decide it's best to take a rest.

You sit by the closest site of grace, and rain shields your vision, giving less visibility, but it is only the grace you look upon, watching intensely.

Torrent nudges you out of your thoughts momentarily, bringing a gentle hand out to feed him berries you gathered, whilst you rip at the bark-like cured meat. "What have I gotten myself into, Torrent?" You whisper to him tentatively, as your stead munches happily on the treats you provide. A flash of lightning casts the tree behind you to look like a mighty beast, yet you do not jump. Instead, you sigh, your body aches and your mind wishes for rest. "Doom follows me, and I can only welcome it."

Sleep does not come easy, not that it has for many nights.

When morning comes, you dismount from Torrent, and the stead disappears out of sight, back into the whistle for when you need him next. The ruins are a large formidable mess, crumbling from age with the heat of the stone burnt from eternal flames. You're aware of its underground structures, but it is not that you're interested in.

For in the centre, stands the person you've been looking for.

"Tarnished, I am pleased to see you made it out alive from the Shadow Keep." Freyja greets you smoothly, turning to face you, "Is the deed done? Is the tyrant dead?"

"No Lady Freyja, he is not." 

The woman only gives a hum to your answer, "That is a shame. I will have no doubt when I tell Lady Leda, she will not be too pleased either. 

"She will not hear of this news, Freyja," There was a sense of acceptance to your words. You pull forth your nagakiba, bending your knees as you hold a defensive stance, "For I have come for your life instead."

She is silent for what feels like forever until you hear the absurd thing. Laughter. She is laughing at you. "Did your new lord ask of you to do this? Ah, you foolish girl, what have you done?"

You don't answer her, but you feel something boil inside you. Fight me. Fight me now. "Do you believe Lady Leda will not hear of this? The news of my death will trigger my allies to come find you. Do you not hear yourself, who will stand with you? Miquella will not take lightly hearing of your deception."

It is only with a heavy sigh that eases you. She unsheathes her great sword, flashing like a giant sun. "Very well, Tarnished. May your foolishness be your undoing."

"May it be then." You say, and before you in a flash, she charges.

Metal hisses against metal as the great sword hits the side of your armour on your chest, caught mostly by your nagakiba, thankful that it does not slice through. It does, however, leave a long scratch down the steel.

You grunt. Freyja is a mighty warrior you admit, but she sweeps with her great sword with the intent of hacking your head off rather than trying to whittle you down. A foolish mistake, you note, rolling out of the way as her great sword swings down, hitting the very spot you just stood on.

You land a quick slash towards her, having almost no effect as she dodges easily, grabbing you tightly by the forearm and headbutting you with a crack that you think has split your skull. She tosses you backwards, her laughter raucous and vexing.

You continue to circle her, darting back and forth, slicing, which makes her have to try looking out for you. She makes for a big target, swinging her great sword around as she huffs and grunts like a beast not wanting to surrender. A true warrior of Radahn, you wonder why she chose to leave him. For what feels like ages, you both jab at one another, taking turns with neither gaining a hit or dodging the last second. Only one of your slashes with your nagakiba gets her on the back of her leg and you smile in victory underneath your helm, only to dodge out the way clumsily from another one of her heavy-hitting attacks.

"You're slow, Tarnished." Freyja mocks. "Is this the warrior Messmer fought? I feel sorry for him."

You hiss, slashing at her most vulnerable areas, legs, arms, twice at the shoulders in an attempt to get her to become sluggish. Freyja would not slow though, grunting from time to time, but overall seemingly not injured.

You wonder if Messmer did all of this as a cruel joke- to have you face the largest and most formidable of Miquella's followers. It would be easy to laugh too, for you were indeed the fool who accepted. 

You continued, earning a slash to your shoulder at one point that has you promptly rummaging for a healing flask, dodging another attack as you down it. Your shoulder feels stiff, but it has healed the wound quickly enough for you to keep going for her. Circling, slashing, rolling. On and on, this dance goes on until you do begin to notice she is becoming slower.

You stagger her with a parry, going up behind her in a flash to stab her through the rib, getting through the gap in her armour as you kick her forward. Blood ruptures out as she gives a loud grunt, cursing you loudly as she lands on her feet before you can attack her again.

"I will not die today, Tarnished." You can hear her gritting her teeth, leaping like a cat into the air, her sword and herself swinging in time before she lands on the ground right in front of you. Debris and dirt hit you, rocks scrapping your exposed areas not covered by armour and you're flung backwards, landing not so gracefully on your back from the force of her landing. She strides towards you, thinking victory is ahead.

You roll to stand, thinking swiftly as you pull forth a perfume bottle, throwing it her way. It casts pockets of fire in her way, and she stumbles through it, patting herself as you can hear the sound of her blood bubbling and boiling from her cuts.

The next foolish thing you could do whilst she was occupied with the perfumed flames was charge towards her, running through the flames you cast as you scream, leaping onto her, kicking her in the gut that she is winded enough to have her great sword knocked from her hand. Now with her unarmed, you raise your nagakiba over your head, thinking it would be enough to strike the exposed part of her neck to give her a quick death, only to find she is slamming her fist into your gut too, not once, twice, knocking your sword from hand as she lands a punch to the side of your face, knocking you off her and onto the ground.

You scrabble, as she gets up, wheezing and whimpering as you pull forth another weapon. Small and delicate, the knife from your pocket would need to do a lot of damage, only she laughs at the measly size of it, charging you once more.

You dodge another punch to the side of your head, fear coursing through you, feeling more afraid than ever before. To be classed a traitor to all was not what you wanted, but you could feel yourself needing another flask immediately.

Freyja caught sight of it as you tried to reach for it, grabbing your wrist and twisting, releasing the bottles as they flew overhead you both, crashing with a shatter against some debris, clearly broken.

You can taste blood in your throat, coughing some up the more you move. Everything burns, pain that moves from one part of your body to the next part, screaming for rest, mercy. Freyja cries, raising her hands over her head as if ready to slam her fists down upon you when you see an opening. The exposed part of her armpit is uncovered, the blood seeping is her own. You miss the fists to your head, gripping the knife and using your other hand to drive it upwards, screaming with the force.

Freyja only hisses when you're face to face with her now. Her golden-masked face is all you can see, but you wish to believe her face has written on it either fear or approval. You don't think it's been driven hard enough into her chest, driving it deeper which earns a louder cry from her, followed by shallow, deep breathing.

"You fought well, Tarnished." She wheezes, "I pray Kindly Miquella will think the same."

With a final curse, she bends, falling to her back, her breathing ceasing with the blade poking out between her skin and armour. 

It was only when you felt the sense of victory wash over that you felt something was off. Pain kicks in, replacing the adrenaline with a stinging sensation that begins to burn between your ribs. Horror rushed over you, catching you off guard. A cold sweat washes over. Crying out, you jump back away from Freyja's crumpled body, running shaky hands over your body to find what was sticking out of you. Oh Gods. You dread, crying out as a blade you hadn't noticed she had pulled forth, with a handle as thick as your forearm was now protruding in your side.

You had felt many deaths before and suffered great injuries, but none had been so foul as the feeling of torture before death came. You needed to find a site of grace before you lost everything. Gritting your teeth, your hands gripped the handle to the blade, reeling back from the pain of it so far lodged into you. One, two, three! You didn't want to give yourself any time to react as you pulled it out from you, screaming from both the alleviation and fear bubbling in your mind. 

Immediately, your legs gave way and you fell backwards, limbs numb as you still held the bloody knife in your grip. You groaned in disgust, throwing it away as you remembered through it all that you couldn't just leave without the proof Messmer asked for.

"He better be fucking grateful." You spat, clutching your bleeding side as you tried your best to even kneel. With only the knife on you to use, it would be better for hacking than the thinner blade of your nagakiba. You knew what you had to do. Staring down at Freyja's corpse, you kicked off her helm, revealing a mass of unruly hair. 

"Forgive me." You whispered, revealing her neck as you pressed the knife into her flesh, the sounds of hacking and sawing could be heard through the ruins.

Once off, you threw the head into a bag, tying it to your belt as you whistled for Torrent. It was hard not to stop yourself from gagging, the thick smell of blood wafted in the air, creating an even fouler stench in the ruins. You had been through worse, you reminded yourself, dying is now as familiar to you as waking up in the morning, but even on the verge of death, it was the worst feeling to experience. It was not the same as just suffering a quick and easy one, waking up by grace fully healed. 

Once here, Torrent stands solemnly beside you, warily swaying as his beady eyes access you. It takes some effort to mount him, for the beast is patient, and you can only silently thank him for not bucking you off for how many times you try getting your leg over. Finally atop, your skin feels both hot and cold, your armour was sticking to your skin as if it was boiling you alive from the inside. The soft fur of Torrent was all you had to concentrate on, despite the feeling that your brain wanted to switch off. You fight it for as long as you can, hoping Torrent can guide you the way you came. 

You didn't know how long you had been travelling back when the pain was ebbing away at your consciousness, your body was weakened and struggling to stay atop Torrent. Your skin had paled, hands were jittery as you lost the strength in your fingers to hold the reins. Your vision was spiralling, swaying like the waves of the shoreline, not certain what was up and what was down, but the feeling of your body swaying, and finally, falling and falling in slow motion.

You thudded to the ground, Torrent halting as he inspected you with a muzzle to your face, coaxing you to stay awake. 

"Torrent." Breathing noisily, you would apologise to him when you found yourself at a site of grace. You dreaded knowing you would fail at Messmer's quest in his mind, but before you could think further of it, darkness swarmed your vision, and you thanked whoever was watching over you finally gave you comfort.

From the darkness, came distant, cold dreams, filling your mind with doubt:

..."They are incredible, are they not?" There is a sense of dread and awe as you stare up at the sky, bright and bold with the sounds of dragons. The creatures, large in age, sweep and dive down, creating rushes of wind to almost knock back the men who stand on the ground. Some are still wary, when the dragons came once, it had been to destroy towns and wage wars. Now, having them as allies was an unseen miracle. "It is your friendship with them that is outstanding." You marvel, turning to the man beside you, as regal and charming as those with royal blood. He carries himself with a way of understanding all, a calming presence that all could admire. He smiles at you, resting a hand on your shoulder. "I am certain they would love to meet thee. I have told them much and more." "Me? I am just a mere knight, here to serve, my Lord." "Yes, but my most trusted ally and loyal friend." The man chuckles, leading you down as if now is the right time to introduce you to the winged creatures.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

... "Mother is to remarry again." The regal man says, this time you don't know how much time has passed. There is a slight tinge of disappointment in his words. He has his back towards you, the parchment thrown across his apartments. "I received her message when I broke my fast." "You know to whom?" You ask. "The Carian Queen's former husband, Radagon." "And of your father? What becomes of him?" "He is to begin his long march with many of his armies, my mother has decreed." He turns to you, sorrow that was not just in his voice but in his eyes. "She asks that thee join." You don't wish to, you want to plead and beg, but this sadness is not just felt in him but yourself, something you cannot understand nor explain. You think this man is unknown to you, so why do you feel such disgrace? All you can do is nod, acceptance heavy in your chest. "Very well, my Lord."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

... A half bottle of wine is now neglected, and large calloused hands dance along your hips and thighs, lips pressed to the pulse point of your neck. "Let me speak to my mother," the man uttered, pulling you closer on his lap, "she will let thee stay." "I can't," you say, his hands felt so realistic in the fogginess of your mind, fingers stroking his jawline, "it is my duty not just to serve you, but your family as well." "I know, my sweet knight." He murmurs in understanding, a sense of despair consumes him, and when he tries to pick you up to continue things in the bedroom, you stop him. "Not yet, my Lord. I only wish to be in your arms tonight. One final night before I must leave." He smiles, kissing you with the need to remember the outline of your lips. "Anything for thee."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

... A battlefield of blood and bone, ash and carnage. Men in golden armour surround you, in the dying, groaning for mercy and death, their voices dying down in numbers. You clutch your bleeding chest, holding a grand ornate sword in hand, and sweet tears drip from your eyes. You cough, spluttering crimson blood that dribbles down your chin. You stare up at the endless sky, with a man's name being muttered from your lips as you die. 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Your lungs burn when you wake from a death-like sleep, coughing up the air and drinking it in as if you can still somehow feel the cold blade deep in your chest. You go to touch it, only to remember that it was all a dream.

"Easy, milady," a voice pulls you back to reality, and when you look at your surroundings, you're not staring into the golden strips of grace, but the roaring flames of a fire. Opposite you, sits a nomadic merchant, plucking at the strings of his instrument, "your wounds are still open."

Messmer. Is your first thought, and you dread to wonder if he thinks you've betrayed him. You're careless in the way you try to stand, running a hand over where the blade stuck through you, only to find heavy bindings that have been kept to stop the bleeding. You hiss softly, guilt pouring through at the attempt this merchant has made to keep you alive.

"It shall be enough to get you to find a proper healer if you're quick." He says in a soft tone, watching you through clouded eyes, his face half covered. 

"Torrent... where is Torrent?" You're blinking back from the intensity of the fire in front of you, blinking back tears you're certain to have come from the cinders, not your life-like dreams. 

"Ah, your stead," the merchant points, and through the bushes, you spot Torrent, munching on berries with no care in the world. "We found you in the nick of time, milady. If we had been any later, well... you would've been a goner."

You try to laugh at that, but you're unsure if he knows you're Tarnished. "Thank you," you stand shakily to your feet, throwing a coin his way that he accepts with some surprise, "I must be going now."

"I must warn you, Messmer's soldiers lurk on the roads. Best to keep to the woods." The merchant speaks with uncertainty as you coax Torrent to come to you. He does, stroking his snout before climbing atop. You feel just about better now that you've had time to rest, but you need to head back to Aldwin so he can stitch you back up. You've been gone so long without a site of grace that you fear you will begin to wither.

"It is alright," you speak earnestly. "He is looking for me."

-

A/N: I am aware that it's recommended not to pull sharp objects out of you unless you wish to bleed to death, but I guess Tarnished thinks it's the smartest plan. I do wonder who this mysterious man is-- oh well, I guess we'll never know *wink wink*

[ltlemon]

thinking about how if tsubomi accepted mob’s confession for whatever reason, how utterly Shit it would go. the world’s most autistic aroace boy and the school popular girl are like so doomed to crash and burn and it would be Incredibly fun to watch.

first off, mob really doesn’t have a crush on her.

he knows her from kindergarten and they’ve rarely spoken since-they might’ve counted as friends before, but now they’re much closer to just acquaintances. fact is, he doesn’t know her. he’s interpreting these feelings of adoration, nostalgia, and a desire to reconnect, as what’s entailed for a romantic crush. he likes a girl, she’s pretty and popular, so this must mean he likes her.

tsubomi is the shape of a person. she’s an ideal to adore, a fantasy to think towards, but she’s not a part of a real grounded relationship, nor is he ever setting her up to be.

don’t get me wrong here! he definitely likes her well enough, and maybe thinks she’s beautiful, in an aesthetic sense, but he doesn’t really ever involve himself in those feelings. they’re very analytical, they’re treated not as reasons he loves her, but just as…things. when mezato asked him “what exactly do you like about her”, he seemed genuinely shocked, like he’d never really thought about it. he stood there and tried to think about something that he loved about specifically her, some reason or some sign that he was in love, and there was nothing. all he could say was that she respected him.

so anyways. what i’m getting to with this, is that i honestly don’t think mob planned any further ahead than just…”confess”.

she’s the ideal crush, this far away idea of the girl he should like, and she doesn’t exist outside of that. since there isn’t anything deeper, if she accepted him…??? GOD.

i actually don’t think he’d know where to go from there. he didn’t plan that far ahead, even though she was the goal, this carrot on a stick the whole time.

there’d be so many weird attempts at dates and outings, they’d do “couple things” but neither really knows the other enough to know what they like, or how to talk to each other, especially with the sudden change in relationship.

mob never thought to bring her flowers or a gift until teru told him that was a thing couples usually do. so following that, he’d probably mainly instigate things in that same sort of “well, this is what couples do” sort of way. adhering to the societal expectations of how you should act when you get the girl. their relationship would be empty and forced, dragging each other along… and i just think it’s interesting because. that would be the standard ending right? boy gets a crush, works really hard on himself, musters up the courage to confess, then they get together and it’s great and everyone’s happy forever!!!

but one of the main messages of the whole show is literally “we’re all living our own lives, and we have to be ourselves despite it all.”, and having the classic guy meets girl ending specifically and loudly not click with who mob is as a person is a Very Interesting Choice. dating tsubomi, while also obviously not what she would ever choose, would also crash and burn for mob. him ending up with her would mean not being himself, and that’s basically textual. mob’s happy ending is literally accepting his emotions and walking away smiling at rejection. if that’s not so incredibly aroace of him i don’t know what is. 🎉

[loving-family-poll]

Ultimate Incest Tournament - Round 3

The Locked Tomb fanart provided by @lezbijski thank you!

Propaganda under the cut:

Coronabeth/Ianthe:

They are everything. Fucked up codependent flesh-bending murderous twincest sisters

When you have to cry yourself to sleep every night because your twin sister didn't eat your soul, something incesty is definitely happening

no one is doing it like them. what if I loved you so much I wanted you to eat me and you loved me so much you refused to do so. what if the only threat I had against you was my own death. what if we had only spent three nights apart in our lives. what if I spent my whole existence covering for your lack; what if everyone assumed I was the one who was lacking. what if we were sisters. also what if someone said it wasn't surprising that people thought I was your boyfriend. they r winning at twincest AND gender AND godhood AND codependency

This entire section [Corona - Crown; Ianthe - The Prince] where Ianthe is possessing their dead servant's body and controlling a corpse army: "Crown threw herself out of her chair and went down on her knees in front of the Prince—wrapped her arms around the Prince’s legs and put her cheek on the dead right thigh. The Prince reached out and tangled one hand in her bright, springy curls, and sighed a cold, dead, defeated sigh. When Crown spoke her voice was low and tender, the lowest and tenderest voice Nona had ever heard: “Baby, it sounds awful.” “Corona, it’s death.” “So stick it. Stick all this and come home with me … throw this all in and come to me.” [...] “But we’re closer to the goal than ever before.” “Of course we are, you perfect genius,” said Crown, lovingly, and she took the dead gloved fingers, and she kissed them. Every single dead soldier’s fingers twitched..."

Dave/Rose:

Daverose blondetwin sweep because they were codependent without ever meeting from growing up seeing each other in their dreams

What does it mean to be an abused teenage boy growing up alone and seeing a girl in your dreams every night who is also your best friend. and when you finally meet her you go on a suicide mission together even though nobody was asking you to die with her. and then you are the only two human beings left in the recognizable universe on a cold meteor surrounded by aliens but you’re glad it’s with her. and when you finally touch the girl from your childhood dreams she looks exactly like you. because she’s your sister

I don't have words for how good these snarky assholes are together. DaveRose is brain chemistry changing. They both put up so many fronts, and engage in so much snarky wordplay, and are constantly trying to get under each other's facade. They play off each other so well, witty and sharp, I need them to be together always

We all die & we all die alone are the two cold truths of the universe but dave and rose broke both simultaneously by ascending to godhood together

Their twincest wins because it is just so confusingly tragic? profound? dave leaving rose behind in a doomed world, dave following her to the bomb. they are both so closed & cut off & curt its hard to imagine the depth of these things. but that is their love language: giving up their lives for each other over and over, in a confusing and fumbling and heartfelt love song. i can’t say i love you but i know we’ll die together anyway. because we’re made of the exact same stuff. i’ll find you again at the last moment. that’s love.

THEY DIED TOGETHER, YOUR HONOR

Confirmed canon by the author, (something happened) between them. Parallels of dying by each other's sides in EVERY timeline. They are THE womb-to-tomb. There is nothing platonic about winking at your brother while talking about crushes, that shit is incestuous. Seer/Knight archetype. They will die protecting each other.

do you realize love someone if you don’t follow them on a suicide mission into the gaping maw of a literal fucking sun after they knock you out and psychoanalyze you in your dreams? the blueprint of the “ethereal androgynous blonde boygirl twins” trope. witch/knight dynamics. they find each other to die together in every timeline no matter what (but they’re still emotionally constipated teenagers who bicker and make fun of each other in pesterchum). kids with grown-up powers. perfect little freaks of nature. what if we looked exactly like each other’s eyes

[jinnie-ret]

perfect places

lee know x reader

genre: fluff

content warnings: alcohol, smoking

word count: 1.1k

summary: y/n never thought she'd be talking to a stranger til the sun rose, but it was better than feeling trapped at the local bar

This is a bit shit but oh well haha

1K FOLLOWERS PLAYLIST 💚🖤

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She really couldn't be bothered for a night out clubbing tonight. If you asked her a couple of years ago then she'd be up for it any day of the week, but now, she much preferred a cosy night indoors, wallowing about not knowing what to do with her life over a warm hot chocolate.

Well, she could do without the wallowing, but that was besides the point. Forced to go out clubbing with her friends, she was not designated driver, for none of them drove there, but she was designated responsible adult. She didn't know what she preferred more, drinking so she actually enjoyed herself, or not having to feel sick the next morning.

The bassy music was loud, and regretfully, she and her friends had only been there for about half an hour now. She knew this because she checked her phone.

"Y/N, outside!" her friends shouted over the music to her, all of them holding hands and connecting a chain to make it outside to the smoking area.

Ah, a moment of peace. A break for the ears.

Y/N rustled through her handbag for a cigarette before cursing when she realised she didn't have a lighter.

"Shit!" she huffed, rolling her eyes and leaning back against the wall, before her prayers were answered and a handsome guy stood in front of her with exactly what she needed.

"Need a light?" the guy smirked at her frustrated expression before offering her his lighter, curiously decorated with cat stickers.

"You're a Saint," Y/N exaggerated, gratefully taking the object and lighting her cigarette.

"Far from it, I'm Minho," he introduced himself, laughing lightly as the girl in front took a relieved sigh after a puff.

"I don't know I think I've seen that name in the bible somewhere," Y/N joked, happy to be talking to someone sober even if she was exhausted.

"Yeah, yeah," Minho laughed, "what's brought you out tonight then? Normally all the girls here end up off their faces hammered."

"You'd have to at a place like this. 'HooBAEs' is an awful name and an even more awful place," Y/N scrunched her nose whilst nodding back at the dodgy neon light. "Only good thing about it is the cheap drinks."

"Not taking advantage of them tonight then?" Minho quirked a brow, joining her in leaning against the wall as he smoked from his own cigarette, tilting his head back to look at her.

"Nah, I'm DRA. Designated Responsible Adult," Y/N sighed, looking over at her friend's who were drunkenly giggling and mingling with a group of boys that seemed their age.

"Tell me about it, I'm on NONSS duty. No one night stand shenanigans," Minho laughed, following where her eyes were looking.

They must be his friends.

"Awfully specific," Y/N commented.

"Very," Minho took another drag of his cigarette before stubbing it out. "I'm bored, wanna ditch this place and-"

"Oh I'm not looking for that tonight. You're very nice but-" Y/N blushed, looking away from Minho.

"Woah, woah, hold your horses, you didn't let me finish. You do flatter yourself," he chuckled before standing on front of her, "what about we leave babysitting duty for tonight and find somewhere else to chat?"

"Hmmm, ok," Y/N shrugged and nodded, watching her intoxicated friends stumble back inside to the chamber of doom. Ok, maybe that was an exaggeration but it really was the last place she wanted to be right now.

They walked for five minutes, peacefully taking in the night time air as Minho led them to a bench that overlooked the town.

"Wow, it's so peaceful," she glanced across at the little lights that lined the buildings.

"Better than that bar, right?" Minho nodded, taking a seat on the bench and patting the space next to him for Y/N to sit down.

"Want another?" Y/N passed a cigarette to Minho and they both proceeded to light them and sit in the quiet night air. "You know, I've never felt so calm before, it's so relaxing here."

"I come here all the time. It's a good place to think," Minho said as he stared out at the stars. He'd never felt so comfortable around a stranger but some reason he felt compelled to talk to Y/N.

"What do you like to think about?" Y/N leant back in the bench, tilting her head to the right to look at Minho.

"I try to think about what I wanna do in life," Minho sighed, "my parents wanted me to become a lawyer."

"Oh, booo, well, some like it but I couldn't," Y/N shook her head, "my parents wanted me to become a doctor, but all I wanna do is work with cats," she took another drag from her cigarette.

"I love cats too," Minho said, flicking the flame on his lighter on and off.

"Couldn't tell," Y/N laughed sarcastically looking at the cat stickers on the item.

Minho giggled shyly to himself as he rubbed his thumb across the stickers of his cats. The two them ended up chatting til sunrise basking in each other's company.

"Here, give me your phone," Y/N bravely and uncharacteristically spoke up, taking Minho's phone as he gave it to her with a raised eyebrow, leant back in the bench with his arms folded behind his head.

"Oh, you've got a text from 'Quokka' and it very drunkenly says... Hyung, where are you, Prince is off the rails," Y/N handed his phone back to him after putting her phone number in on it.

"Oh shit," Minho's eyes widened.

"Oh shit indeed, I swear Prince was dead, although that could just be your drunk Quokka friend-"

"We better get back, come on," Minho hurried her as they headed back to the bar, and when they got back, they saw all their friends stumbling out of the club.

"Hyungggg!" a guy waved Minho over.

"Y/Nnie!!!" her friends cheered her over.

"Where's Hyunjin?"

"Where's Minji?"

"Oh they went to f-"

"They left early."

"Come on, let's get you home," Minho grabbed who Y/N assumed was his Quokka friend by the arm.

"I better get you both home," Y/N sighs and gets her two friends to start walking with her.

"I'll text you!" Minho calls over his shoulder with a smirk, knowing full well that Y/N had put her number in his phone.

Y/N turned around with a shy smile, waving as Minho got his friend into a taxi as she did the same thing. They had met by chances but hopefully things would go somewhere, who knew she'd meet someone and like them instantly. Perhaps it was worth it coming out that night.

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top listeners: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @hannahhbahng @kpopmenace143 @sakufilms @kai-lee08 @arloo00 @dunno-wut-to-do @splat00z @cheesemonky @his-angell @turtledove824 @2minstan @royal-shinigami @yangbbokari @skzoologist

[sailboatdreamer]

Back to the Night We Met

Hello! I'm Arcadia (she/her) and this is my first fic <3 i loved the holdovers so much it actually drove me to writing especially because of the lack of Angus fics rn :) Ill definitely continue it if people are interested, i have a pretty good idea of where to take it, this is just setup.

-You are a female student from a sister school who has to board over at Barton for the holidays, Mary comes to pick you up, and you have a first impression of all the boys- 859 words - slight blood mention.-

Angus reminded me of many men i had known, in various ways, throughout my life. Cold at first, brash, defensive- but equally in need of a love that was not easily accessible.

The first time i had ever met Angus, it was Christmas of 1970. The corresponding sister-school to Barton, Ada’s School for Girls, had just let out all the girls for winter break, except of course myself, who was doomed to two weeks of almost complete solitude. My only recompense being the books in the library, and my carefully hidden ration of cigarettes given to me by a friend as a Christmas gift.

I’d assumed that my stay at Ada would be chaperoned by one of the sisters from the convent, as they lived on campus and were usually the go-to call for holdover students, however when it came time to say goodbye, an unfamiliar face was awaiting me outside the aching, old oak doors.

“Hello young lady, I believe you’re staying with us this time.” Boston accent.

A beautiful woman, with a soft spoken voice, stood up against a powder-blue Impala, cigarette between her fingers. I came to learn that this lady was Mary Lamb. She was a cook from Barton, who’d elected to stay over the holidays due to the untimely and tragic death of her young boy, Curtis, a student. In her words, she felt going home would’ve abandoned his memory during this time that meant so much to both of them. As she drove me to Barton she explained i’d be staying with the other male holdovers due to ‘administrative difficulties’ whatever that meant

Quickly sensing my discomfort with this idea she said “Listen, you let me know if those little shitheads give you a hard time okay? My quarters are just past the dorms, near the garden.” i nodded appreciatively, smiling at her choice of language. It was surprising to hear it from such a demure lady, but Mary’s streak of subtle rebellion ultimately made her one of my favourite people i ever got to know through my school years.

When we arrived to Barton, Mary directed me towards the infirmary, as it was the last room in the entire building that had any heating, as i approached the door there was a clear noise of a scuffle going on inside. I gently pressed the door open, beat-up suitcase in my hand, glasses pushed to my nose. Two of the older boys were hitting each-other wildly, although it really seemed more girlish than i assumed boys fought. The minute they saw me, they got up and hastily tried to straighten out their shirts.

“Who are you!? The fuck-a girl?” A blonde boy, blue eyes, very irritating.

A rally of small, meek, lower-year boys stood around the room, just watching. The other boy who i’d seen flinging punches on the blonde was seething, he had a little blood running down his cheek, and he didn’t really acknowledge me, he seemed too focused on whatever his next chance was to knock the blonde’s lights out.

“Hello…..” i wave shyly, putting my suitcase by a free bed.

”hi, hello,- um-hi” the room grumbles back at me.

The air in the room is thick, and tense. Worried, nervous glances are passed between myself and the rest of the room for what feels like endless minutes before someone breaks the silence. “Do…. do you need help with your bags.” a nervous mutter from the boy who’d previously not acknowledged my arrival. And i actually did. Some of my books i insisted on bringing, assuming i’d have a boring two weeks had been a weight on my luggage. “Yeah… yeah i’d appreciate that. Thank you.” He follows me out, leaving the other boys to debrief among themselves. As we wander down the long, aging halls, and the noise of the infirmary grows quieter, i try to break the tension. “so….I’m (y/n).. i go to Ada,and uh- our nuns, shacked up for the winter apparently so that’s why i’m here. I met Mary, she’s… she’s really sweet” As i speak he nods gently, listening before speaking. “I’m Angus. And that (he points back at the infirmary) was Teddy Koutnze. Resident dickhead. The other kids i don’t know so well, they’re first years but-… they’re not too bad.” It was my turn to listen this time, as we walk i study the features on his face. Strong, angular features and deep, brown eyes, nearly carvaggian. He helps me with my other bags, opting to take the heavier one for me kindly, but as he’s picking it up, i again notice the blood on the side of his face. Without a second thought, i reach out to touch it, as i would’ve for any of the girls back at Ada. “You’re bleeding….”

His hand immediately rushes to his cheek, and i notice as his cheeks flush red, i recognise my mistake and apologize hurriedly “Oh-sorry, i-uh…” i try to brush off the blood on my skirt, and i we struggle to meet eyes “its… its okay” He grumbles, not meeting my eyes, we both walk back awkwardly, i know my face is flushed and i internally curse myself for doing something so careless. We share in the silence and a little smeared blood on our fingertips.

[arcane-vagabond]

Fool's Fare: Prologue

Fool's Fare: Prologue

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Captain Jake "Hangman" Seresin had come close to swinging from the gallows more times than he would care to admit. He's stolen, cheated, even killed. The worst thing he's ever done? Broken the heart of a woman. Having broken the heart of the woman whom Davy Jones himself had fallen for six years ago, Jake is now cursed to live as something not dead, but not alive. He's doomed to live a half-life for the rest of his existence unless he manages to obtain the treasure Davy Jones deems most valuable. The problem? He has no idea what it is, and he only had seven years to obtain it.

Trigger Warnings: Death of parents, angst, talk of ghosts and the supernatural, Big Brother!Bradley...I think that's it?

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: I couldn't help myself, so I went ahead and wrote this. I am just as interested as y'all to see where this fic goes lol As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are encouraged and appreciated! I'll be doing Drabble Sunday this weekend to celebrate my first 100 followers! So get your requests ready!! 18+ ONLY!! And you can find me on AO3 under arcane_vagabond!

Series Masterlist || Moodboards || Playlist

The ocean was a deep, terrifying swirl of forgotten pasts and harrowing mysteries. The vicious pull of the waves sending many sailors to their graves for thousands of years without mercy. No, the ocean was not kind. It was the source of life on the best of occasions and cruel and unforgiving on the worst.

Your father had been a sailor. Working for a large shipping company hauling various goods from one end of the sea to the other, he was often gone for long stretches of time. After months of being away, it was always a joyous reunion when he would return. He would swing you up in his arms, twirling you until your little giggles turned into full blown laughter. He would set you back down on your feet and greet your mother with an affectionate kiss to her temple before tugging you both into his arms.

“My best girls are always here to greet me when I get home,” he’d grin. Your mother would hum, running her hands through the beard he’d grow during his time away.

“Come inside,” she’d say, leading you both into your modest, seaside home. Your father would sit at the table as your mother fixed him a plate. He would tell her that he was more than capable of fixing his own plate, but she would wave him off and place the food gently in front of him with a kiss to the top of his head.

One day, when you were a little over four years old, your father had come home from a voyage with a scraggly looking boy who looked to be about twice your age. Your father had been dragging the boy by the scruff of his collar when you and your mother had come out to greet him. The boy had dark brown hair that had been bleached from time in the sun and steady, brown eyes that held steady as he took in the house before him.

“Found this one on the coasts of the Carolinas,” your father had said with a grin, letting go of the boy’s shirt. He stumbled forward, almost falling headfirst onto the ground. He looked back at the older man with a scowl before turning to look at the two of you.

“My, don’t you look a sight?” your mother had said with a small smile as she took the boy in. He puffed out his chest in a bid to make himself seem bigger and your mother had laughed. You took the few, small steps up to him, taking his hand in yours excitedly.

“My name is y/n,” you chirped up at him. “What’s yours?”

The boy studied you with pursed lips.

“Bradley,” he muttered. Your father had let out a booming laugh, causing Bradley to jump.

“That’s the first answer we’ve been able to get out of him since we caught him rifling through our supplies on the ship!” he guffawed. “C’mon now, boy. Let’s go get us some supper.”

And so your family had taken in Bradley Bradshaw as one of your own, and he settled in fairly quickly amongst the rest of you. He would help your mother out with different chores around the house, and when your father was home, he would take you and Bradley down by the docks to teach you the ways of sailing.

“You want to tie it like this, sweetheart,” he’d say to you as he guided your hands on how to move the rope. “It’s one of the most important knots a sailor needs to know. It’s called the ‘bowline.’”

“Like this?” Bradley had asked, holding up his own rope for your father to inspect.

“Atta boy, Rooster!” your father had laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. Bradley had earned the nickname not too long after he had joined your little family. Your father had just gotten back from another transporting job. He had been woken from his sleep by sounds coming from the kitchen. When he had stumbled into the room, he had seen Bradley already working on feeding the fire for the day.

“The sun isn’t even up yet, Bradley,” your father had laughed as the boy shrunk in on himself. “I doubt even the rooster is awake! Looks like you’re gunnin’ for his job.”

And the name had stuck.

Now, Bradley was more confident in his place within your family. Now, Bradley was much taller and his form was filling out thanks to the many hours spent doing the heavy lifting around your home.

“Keep this up,” your father started, a smile twitching at the corner of his lips, “and maybe I’ll take you with me on a job here soon.”

Bradley’s face lit up. “Do you mean it?”

“Let’s see, you're about, what, sixteen now?”

“Yes, sir,” Bradley nodded, a smile etched onto his face. Your father nodded thoughtfully.

“Yeah, you should be ready here soon.”

You looked down at the rope in your hands with a frown. “I’ll never get this. Why do I even have to learn this?”

“Because, my little minnow,” your father smiled, “it’s an important skill to know and have.”

“But Mama says that women aren’t even allowed on ships,” you muttered. Your father smoothed the hair out of your face with a thoughtful hum.

“It’s true, women were once considered bad luck to have on ships, and many men still consider them to be so,” he began. “But times are changing, and maybe one day soon you’ll get to set sail with us.”

“Really?” you asked him, eyes filled with hope. He laughed and nodded, turning to look at Bradley.

“C’mon you two. Let’s go see what Mother’s been cooking.”

The three of you trudged up the hill to your home where your mother was already standing outside to greet you. Greeting her with a tender kiss, your father ushed you and Bradley into the house.

When supper was finished and the table had been cleared, you all gathered around the small fireplace. Your father sat in his favorite chair while Bradley and your mother took up the other two. You sat by your fathers feet, resting your head against his knee. The smell from your father’s pipe permeated the room and left you with a sense of fond familiarity as he slowly stroked your hair.

“Papa,” you said, “will you tell us a story?”

“And what kind of story would you like to hear, little minnow?”

“An adventure!” Bradley had grinned. You shook your head.

“No,” you argued. “A ghost story.”

“Ghosts aren’t real, y/n,” the older boy scoffed. Your father hummed with a low chuckle.

“I wouldn’t be so sure o’ that, Rooster,” he smiled. Bradley fixed him with an incredulous look.

“Surely you can’t be serious?”

“As the dead, lad,” your father said solemnly, rubbing the bowl of his pipe. “Ghosts walk amongst the living, as real as you or I. Some even sail the seas, waiting for the day Davy Jones lets them pass into the great beyond.”

“What does Davy Jones even have to do with the dead,” Bradley huffed. Your father arched an eyebrow at him.

“He has everything to do with the dead at sea, Bradley,” he replied softly. “Davy Jones is a powerful man. Not quite human, not quite god. He’s as cruel and unforgiving as the sea, and some even think he was born from the waves that beat against the rocks by the shore. They say his very will controls the tides, and any man foolish enough to invoke his wrath is met with a gruesome fate.”

“Those are just superstitions,” Bradley countered with a scowl.

“You’re free to believe that,” your father began, “but you’d be a fool to. No sailor with a lick of sense is going to take that chance. Davy Jones will come for us all.”

“Why does Davy Jones stay at sea, Papa?” you chirped.

“No one is quite sure,” your father mused. “Perhaps he’s searching for treasure.”

“Would you ever go looking for treasure?” you questioned. Your father smiled.

“I’ve already found my treasure,” he said, casting a fond smile to your mother, who blushed under his gaze.

“Have you ever seen Davy Jones?” you prodded with wide eyes. Your father chuckled, patting your head in reassurance.

“No, little minnow. But those who have are few and far in between. Davy Jones isn’t in the business of letting witnesses stay alive.”

“That’s enough, Maverick,” your mother had chided. Your father had the good sense to look sheepish. Maverick was a name your father had earned during his time at sea, and your mother only called him that when she was cross. Usually, she called him by his given name; Peter or Pete.

“My apologies, Penny, my dear,” he said. Looking back down at you, he offered a smile. “Alright, y/n, it’s time for bed. You too, Bradley. I need you up bright and early tomorrow morning.”

You and Bradley bid your mother goodnight as your father followed you down the hall. When you had crawled under your blanket, he had made sure to tuck you in tight.

“I didn’t scare you too bad, did I, little minnow?” he asked. You shook your head vehemently.

“No, Papa. But, what if you meet Davy Jones one day?”

“That won’t be for a good, long while, sweetheart,” he said with a smile. You nodded, resting your head back down onto your pillow. Your father leaned over to peck your forehead before standing to walk out the door.

“Goodnight, y/n,” he said. You smiled.

“Goodnight, Papa.”

A good, long while was not long enough in the end. It was six years later when you got the news that your father’s ship had gone down in a storm off the coast of the Caribbean. Your mother had been beside herself, crying all hours of the day as you and Bradley did your best to stay strong for her sake.

Bradley had caught you crying by the fireplace one night after you thought everyone had gone to bed. He sat next to you, and pulled you to his side as you cried into his shoulder.

“I miss him so much,” you sobbed.

“I know,” he said softly. “I do too.”

“He should be here.”

“I know.”

“It’s not fair,” you cried. “We didn’t even get to bury him.”

“I know, Guppy,” he sighed, hugging you tighter. Bradley wasn’t very good with words, and he sure as hell wasn’t good with emotions. “But he wouldn’t want us to dwell on this, you know that.”

“I know,” you sniffled, rubbing at your eyes. “He always loved the sea.”

“He loved being here, too,” Bradley countered. You looked up to see his own eyes glassy with unshed tears.

Your mother had followed your father not long after. She had stopped eating and barely took a sip when you begged her to drink some water. She would stay perched by the window in the bedroom she once shared with your father, just staring out at the sea as if willing him to return. It had ended up being a fever that had taken her one early, autumn morning. It was your turn to be inconsolable as you once again found yourself buried into Bradley’s shoulder as he held you tightly. You buried your mother on the hill that overlooked the sea, forever waiting for your father to return home.

You and Bradley had stayed by her grave until the sun began to set.

The following days were filled with familiar motions and quiet sobs hidden behind closed doors long after the stars began to shine in the night sky. One night, you had set a bowl of stew in front of Bradley after he had come home from working at the docks. The two of you sat in silence for a few more minutes before Bradley pulled you to your feet. You went to say something, but he motioned for you to be quiet as he pulled you through the front door and out of the house.

“Where are we going?” you hissed quietly.

“Just trust me,” he shot back, dragging you down to the beach. The cool sand rubbed against the soles of your feet as you followed him, and he stopped you when you both were standing at the edge of the water. The water felt like ice as it licked aginst your ankles, and you felt a shudder run up your spine.

“There!” he called out, gesturing towards the open sea. You looked, but saw nothing but the white caps of waves.

“I don’t see anything,” you mutter, shaking your head. Bradley offered you a smile.

“That’s because you aren’t looking hard enough,” he murmured. He bent down, pointing his finger so that it was directly in your line of sight. “There, do you see it now?”

You squinted your eyes, trying to see what it was he was looking at. “Rooster, I don’t-”

“I see them,” he interrupted you, smiling confidantly. You fixed him with a puzzled look. “I see Mav and Penny just over there past the waves.”

Your heart stopped and hot tears licked at your eyes as you looked back at the churning waters. It was then that you saw what Bradley had been talking about. You saw your mother and your father with smiles on their faces, staring at each other with adoration clear as day on their faces. You wiped the tears away from your eyes as you looked back to see them waving at you. You huffed a laugh and smiled back at them with a wave of your own.

“Looks like Davy Jones let Mav come back for his treasure,” Bradley said. You threw yourself into his arms, holding him tightly.

“Thank you, Bradley.”

The sea could be cold and cruel, but you had the strength to weather the storm.

[multifandumbmeg]

Alright SCREW IT here's my Kiara defense post:

Is it annoying to watch get paired off with everyone in the main cast? Sure. Let me explain why that's not a character flaw or terrible, unplanned writing so yall can put some respect on her name.

1. They're ALL in love with her, and literally throwing themselves at her all the time. This is so important and well-documented that John B literally tells us IN HIS INTRODUCTION TO THE GROUP in episode one. It is literally so relevant to their entire group dynamic that he brings it up in the first episode summary of who they all are. Guys actually do this I have seen this happen. One of my high school best friends was constantly manic pixie dream girled (despite being profoundly depressed) and several entire friend groups of boys fell in love with her. She dated one guy, who was a piece of shit and dumped her saying it was because of his parents but told his friends it was because she had too much baggage. The fallout was so bad, one guy from one of the friend groups tattled to her and a different guy, who was best friends with the douche, literally got into a fight with him and THE DOUCHE HAD TO CHANGE FRIEND GROUPS BECAUSE HIS BOYS KICKED HIM OUT. I'm serious about these teenage boys all having the same taste and thinking it's a competition.

2. John B kissed HER. She immediately shut him down. Immediately. Everything before that can easily be explained as Kiara being concerned about him after losing his father. Teenage boys are dumb anyhow, but it's particularly easy to see why John B and JJ, who have both been routinely neglected and grew up without mothers (read, any positive female attention/influence) would interpret this as Kiara having feelings for them. They fall in love with anyone who sincerely gives them the time of day, basically. And that's a little too relatable moving on.

3. "Mixed signals" by kissing boys on the cheek. While I would not recommend this, I think there was a very clear pattern to her behavior and I have a theory I'm 99% sure is canon, based on copious textual evidence.

Kiara was in love with JJ all along. I'll come back to this. She only kissed the boys she friendzoned on the cheek. With John B, I genuinely think she never had any sort of romantic feelings for him and just saw him as a best bro. But she was worried about him, and maybe realized he listened to her more when she did it. Nonetheless, the minute he gets with Sarah it's almost like she feels relieved and never does anything remotely mixed signals to him again. Now Pope? That is a rich text. What the hell is going on with her and Pope?

4. When Pope first confesses, Kiara is once again caught off-guard. She once again rightfully turns him down IMMEDIATELY and gives extremely accurate and self-aware reasons. Her rejection of him is surprisingly mature, that the life he plans on and wants is ultimately and assuredly not compatible with what she wants for herself. So why did she kinda date him? Honestly, I think it was an attempt to move on from what she believed were doomed feelings for JJ. After all the things that happen in season 1, after Pope going off the deep end a little bit by smoking weed, getting drunk, and engaging in acts of violence, as well as ditching his scholarship interview, Kiara suddenly experiences a spark of attraction towards Pope.

Because he's acting like JJ. Reckless. Using substances to cope. Chaotic. Spontaneous. She knows these things are bad for Pope, and she's at times put off by how un-Pope-like they are as his friend, but she has a type. So following a moment of attraction and the sudden supposed loss of John B (and Sarah), she decides to give it a go. Maybe Pope's different after everything that happened. And he is, but not quite the way she was expecting. To link this back to the cheek-kissing thing, honestly, I think Kiara lowkey has the ick 😂. She consistently shoves any of the boys who try to touch her at all away except for JJ, the entire series mind you, except for these little cheek kisses like that's all she can manage to do. She kisses Pope like twice and ends up sleeping with him, at which point she realizes she just can't do it. She's not consistently attracted to her, and she can't get past her feelings for JJ, so she calls it off. Again, that's a fair healthy, and kind thing to do. When you realize it's not going to work, especially if you have feelings for someone else, it is distinctly NOT dragging people around to cut it off. If Kie has a real problem, honestly? I think it's that ultimately she wants a man she can fix. And Pope's fine. So that's him out.

My proof that the writers absolutely intended Kiara to have feelings for JJ from day one:

"Did you tell JJ?" specifically. Just JJ. She doesn't want HIM to think she's taken.

Shoving away John B and Pope every time they try to hug her or put an arm around her etc. Letting JJ hug her, take her hand, sling his arm around her etc. She also goes out of her way to touch him by taking his arm, holding him when he's crying, hugging him several times and then almost kissing him. So in a way, I'd very much like you to consider, Kiara was not in fact sending everyone mixed signals, her problem was that she was so consistent. Consistently attracted to and in love with someone she thought had no real interest in her. JJ flirts with her jokingly, and from episode 1 and the convo in the bell tower between John B and Sarah, we know that he's a horny little dude. And that's not surprising either, because people who've been abused tend to go one way or the other- either very physical touch-seeking in an attempt to balance about the bad, or very touch-avoidant. JJ is clearly, demonstably in column A. Not just with Kiara, but he also initiates hugs with John B and Pope, touches their faces, and even kisses Pope on the cheek once. He's clearly a very touchy person with everyone, so I can see how Kiara would be unsure about his feelings when he very much does not communicate his wants or needs with words.

Finally, the proof that Kiara had feelings for JJ, and that Jiara was the direction the show was headed, was in their conversation in thr storage container. When JJ tells her what he wants from life and plans to do with the money, it's a direct parallel to her initial reject of Pope. He wants to travel the world and be spontaneous and non-sedentary and have no use for money. Everything she said to Pope and is always trying to explain to her parents. That was 0% accidental, that was the writers making it clear: these two are a match, they're compatible on a much deeper level.

4. So if they always planned on JJ and Kiara, why didn't those two just get together to start? The answer, my friends, is jealousyy. This is a common tactic in writing to get a couple together: force the reluctant one to acknowledge their feelings by putting the other in a relationship with someone else. Im short: every moment between Kiara and John B or Pope was to show us JJ did not like that and therefore that his feelings for Kiara were serious, unlike how she interpreted them and him being a flirty himbo with other girls. It also helped Kiara realize she wasn't getting over him any time soon, and that she couldn't avoid her feelings either. So it forced them both to give up and acknowledge to themselves that they had feelings for the other.

5. "Teenage girls don't act like her" JOKES. This is the dumbest argument I've seen, I'm sorry. I'm happy you have met such well-adjusted teenage girls but buddy... I have known some teenage girls and people who used to identify as girls at that age who would make you roll over in your grave. Some people don't know what they want, some people desperately crave attention, some people just can't seem to avoid drama or make good choices and sometimes that's even a resulted of untreated disabilities or mental illness. Sometimes it's all of the above. My point is absolutely there are teenage girls who act like Kiara and faaar worse.

6. Lastly, why not John B or Pope? Why was Kiara totally valid for not liking them romantically? Well feelings are feelings so she's valid anyways but can we talk about them both touching her/making moves at inappropriate times without consent?? It's understandable she likes JJ and feels the safest around him when he's the only who doesn't act like he wants or expects anything from her. He never kisses her without consent, let alone while running from the cops randomly. He never tries to put his arm around her or make a move in the middle of them having an emotionally intimate conversation where she is clearly seeking emotional comfort. I'm not saying John B or Pope are bad people, but with Kiara both showed a lot of immaturity and failed to read the room numerous times. They acted whenever they personally felt attraction, regardless of where she was at at the time. There's such a thing as reading body signals, and the only times JJ comes close to making an actual move on Kiara is when she comes to him, gets close to his face and leans in. In the end, he only kisses her after she looks him dead in the eyes and tells him I LOVE YOU. That's on respect. Also, John B and Pope both get their shit together and learn this with their next girlfriends! So good on them!

But Kiara confessed to JJ at a random time too! I hear you shouting. NAY. Incorrect!! JJ is actively avoiding her and having a mature conversation about how they feel about each other, and also the fact that he stole from her family, and that is on HIM. That is a result of his issues and his fear and poor coping mechanisms. Kiara forced him to address it at an inopportune time because she already attempt to address it privately TWICE and he wouldn't let her. So all she did there was clear the air and make her own feelings known, which he needed to hear. That is the last conversation they have before he attempts to apologize and confess back. That is what convinces him that Kiara's feelings for him are both genuine and serious, and that no amount of pushing her away will succeed. She loves him unconditionally, which he did not know was possible until then.

So in short!! Kiara actually behaves like a real human being. She's not crazy, extremely selfish, nor an example of writers just testing out the waters and seeing what the fans want or who has the most chemistry. She is very consistent. The only thing I can really begrudge about her behavior towards her friends (her parents are a different story) is that she's insensitive to both John B and Pope after rejecting them, which I believe is because she doesn't realize they had actual feelings for her so much as thinking she's hot.