#N e way

[trashcreatyre]

I think the main thing that pisses me off about like 90% of mephiles ships is that people will be like "how old is he??" Look that fanwiki says that he's ten and they RUN with it. Like they don't read further. I'm so convinced that most people don't even know the plot of 06 bc the shit I've seen people draw and write with the characters is just mind boggling.

[f1-birb]

i am putting his ass in my pocket he's so cute

[litt1e-prince]

"Who's your friend, MK?"

INSPIRED BY THE FIC: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46162438/chapters/116212117

Which, if you 'haven't read yet- why not?? go read it now!! It's literally so good, its so good- had me crying- LIKE. I WANNA FIGHT WUKONG FROM THIS FIC SOOOO BAD but at the same time,,, i wanna hug him and bring him nice things and make sure he's safe and happy! The author writes so amazingly and aaaah! the pain!!!!

[mossiistars]

martin is done serving tea. now, he serves c*nt (i feel bad saying the c word as an american. the american version would be saying that he serves premium american boy pussy with a side of freedom but I'm not sure if that fits the vibe I'm going for)

[ambrosethedarling]

Jayrose, Fake Marriage (for the Work Benefits) Rival Coworkers to Best Frenemies, Slow Burn, Future State- Canon Divergence

Comic reference under the cut

[petrichorium]

“you broke up with nagi?”

you yelp at the sound of a voice behind you as you leave your apartment, dropping your key as you spin around and clutch your purse instinctively.

it’s reo. he’s leaning against the half-wall across from your door, arms crossed over his chest, watching you with some kind of contemplative frown marring his features.

“mikage, fuck, you scared me.” the familiar face has you relaxing. he only continues to stare you down, and you realize that he’s actually looking for a response; you clear your throat and shift a little awkwardly. “uh, yeah. it just wasn’t working out.”

his frown deepens. it’s distinctly ugly, you think—the furrow of his brow, the way his nose crinkles.

it’s now that you take note of his clothes—the jumper he wears is a pretty blue, certainly costing more than six month’s rent, and the jeans are expertly fitted. this is a singular visit, he hasn’t stopped by on the way to his work. you figure he’s taken the day off; perhaps for this specifically, or perhaps to support nagi. it isn’t your business anymore.

nor are you reo’s business anymore.

“what are you doing here?”

you watch his brow furrow further, that contemplative frown returning in full force. his eyes dart to the side, lips pursed, and he crosses his arms again.

for half a moment, you watch him. when he neither moves nor begins to speak again you decide to finish locking up while he ponders whatever it is that’s nagging at him.

you turn, glancing down to scan the concrete floor for your dropped key. the glint catches your eye a few inches away from where it had fallen—you crouch to pick it up, acutely aware of the pencil skirt and heels you’re wearing for the office.

when you rise to your feet you feel reo at your back before it fully registers.

how he spanned the distance so quickly and silently is beyond you, though you’re inclined to blame those professional athlete abilities. it doesn’t much matter either way when you spin around and find that he’s now right before you.

you lurch backward, shoulders slamming into your closed door, staring at him and his proximity with wide eyes.

“mikage…“ you trail off as he tilts his head.

“do you think i hate you?” the words are off—quiet and absent-minded, like he’s talking to himself, not you. it’s only magnified by the way he stares not at your eyes but at your lips.

you swallow thickly. “i don’t really care. nagi liked me, that’s all that mattered.”

“you don’t care…” reo gives a little huff. he pulls away just slightly, eyes flitting sideways as his hand flies up to ruffle his hair.

“reo—“ you start, and then catch yourself, but the damage is done. his eyes widen and his arm drops and he draws closer, closing the distance in a single step. at the same time he reaches out with his hand to brace against the door behind you, trapping you between his arm and the barricade next to you. you forget how big he is until times like this—until he crowds you up with your back to the wall, and every bit of your vision is filled with him, and he’s so close you’re surrounded by the heat of his body and the smell of his nice luxury cologne.

“to be honest i always did hate when you were around.” you feel his laugh fan over your skin, warm and husky. “but when he told me you’d broken it off with him, i was furious.”

“reo,” you say again, and you’re not even certain what it is you’re pleading for anymore.

“all i could think to do was come here to see you, couldn’t tell you why, but now… well.” he’s careful not to touch you, only to hover, and that’s worse somehow—it has your heartbeat quickening, your stomach flipping. it has you turning your head away and inadvertently baring your neck to him, a motion he takes full advantage of as he dips his head to almost-but-not-quite brush lips against your pulsepoint, and your breath hitches, eyes closing. “now i understand it.”

“stop,” your voice is hoarse, almost breaking, “nagi—”

“push me away, then.” it’s low, whispered like a secret, and he still doesn’t touch you but he keeps you pinned here, a butterfly under glass. as if to prove this point he presses closer, one polished leather shoe sliding forward between your legs, his free hand sliding behind your back. “push me off. i’ll leave. or…”

he drags that featherlight touch up your neck, along your jaw; stops just over your lips, eyes heavy-lidded and halfway to closed. you feel the words against you more than you hear them, spoken so quietly—like if he doesn’t say it aloud it isn’t a betrayal of his best friend.

you could kiss me.

and, really, it’s on reo—nagi, you remind yourself, isn’t your responsibility anymore. reo is the one betraying him. when you press forward, no more than a centimeter, it’s that thought which propels you. when you reach out to tug him in with a fist bunching that handsome sweater, you disregard how much you still care about your still-fresh ex.

and when you come to your senses a fraction of a second later it doesn’t matter. reo surges after you, encouraged by the minuscule taste of a kiss that you’d given him. if you’d thought him overwhelming before it’s nothing like now, as his arms close in and he presses you flush between him and your own front door.

his hand slides in behind you and sprawls, hot and heavy, wide at the small of your back; the other finds your cheek, cradles it gently but insistently as he gives you no choice but to tilt your head up towards his for easier access. in the back of your mind you feel like a horrible person for comparing, but it’s difficult not to—reo’s kiss is desperate, fervent, stark contrast to the lazy way nagi always kissed you. it’s messy, with clacking teeth and a questing tongue and the obscenely loud sound of spit-slick lips. your head would have slammed into the solid wood behind you if not for his hand cushioning you, and you can’t help but melt into him, falling limp in his hold.

before long you’re forced to turn your head and break away for air, chest heaving as you catch the breath he’s stolen from your lungs. he has no such need. his mouth doesn’t leave your skin, but in the absence of yours he turns his attention to sucking what will inevitably be a deep, lewd mark just beneath your jaw at the pulsepoint he’d been so interested in before. and it hits you then, exactly why he’s fixated: months ago, it’d been a mark right there that had revealed your relationship with nagi to him.

the revelation snaps you out of whatever spell you’d been under and you yank your hand back from his chest like it’s been burned. it slams into the door handle, still yet to be locked by the key you clutch in your other—which gives you the only thought you can manage with your mind so fogged by the feeling of his lips on your neck. you still fumble a bit, but you turn it, let the door swing back from behind you and feel the swoop in the pit of your stomach that accompanies your body dropping.

now you thank everything for those pro athlete instincts, because just as quickly as your support falls away reo is there to wrap his arm securely around your waist and, before you can even react, turn the pair of you around so that you land on his chest and he takes the brunt of the fall.

“ow— fuck, are you okay?” he’s sprawled out on the floor of your foyer, one arm around your waist as he blinks away the shock. that jumper is ruffled, bunched up the side to give you a little peek at the taut expanse of skin beneath, as he rubs at the back of his head with his free hand. ironically, you think this suits him better than the stiff, polished mannerisms he typically employs. there’s a boyish charm to the wide, dazed look and the little purse of his lips, the way his hair is now mussed. you’re almost inclined to giggle before you remind yourself, quite sternly, that reo’s charisma has always been a little overwhelming even when he isn’t trying. still, you soften, even easing into his hand at your waist.

but then he pauses in his motions, and lifts his head, and his eyes jump to the now-still door before meeting yours—and you fling yourself back, breath hitching as you settle on your haunches as far away from him as you can manage in a single motion.

“was that on purpose?” he asks, leaning forward to sit up and reach out towards you, all wild-eyed and hazy. you scramble back even further.

there’s a glint to those eyes now that they’ve fallen on you, something you don’t dare to name. something that makes you want to slam the door in his face and never return to your own apartment for fear of what you’ve trapped within; something you’ve only ever seen when he’s looked at nagi but only now realize can be turned on someone else, something you hope desperately is a fluke.

(the following day, when you arrive at work to find your desk flooded with hundreds of deep purple roses, you know it was a futile hope.)

prequel

[yearningandstillnotlearning]

torment

-B.E.

A/N: teeny tiny blurb🍓

ᝰ🖋️: suggestive duh?!

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

thighs clasped together, squirming on the couch with a fidget need at the tips of your fingers.

“whats wrong? something happen?” so caring, so sweetly worried,

“im tired, its getting late” so fake.

a head turning at the clock looking with a squint, a faint held-back smile with an undertone of amusement to it. “its winter, the sun is down but its eight. since when do you get tired so early?”

she knows, the avoiding of eye contact, the excess fidgeting, the subtle moving of your hips. just enough to get the energy out of them somehow, just enough to go by unnoticed if it weren’t her goal all evening to get you just like that.

“since the sun did too.” monotone, but pained. an ache at the cords to make your replied coherent. she wasn’t born yesterday, you’re not hanging out for the first time, its obvious. neutral facial expression with uneven breathing, focusing on anything ahead as long as its not her, blank stare, a deer in headlights.

but she wanted to hear it. “ohh is the poet becoming the poetry itself? well don’t let me stop you,” without looking at her you could tell she was smiling, “go on if you have to.” she knows.

no matter the courage or the amount of times you backwards count, you cant stand on your feet. you’ve been trying, for conversations now. “i-..” cutting your own self off, you tear your eyes off the frame on the wall, dragging them all the way to her. “i don’t think i physically can” cheeks set aflame, a shameful giggle making its way out your chest.

this friendship has always been playful, and each time it gets more and more effective - which is both good and bad. depending whose perspective you see it from.

even when she tries her best to not smile, her eyes always do. they always did, her mouth didn’t have to. “whys that? need help?” such a tone. what a tone. she knew just the right buttons to push, like a favourite video game, she knew just what to do, and she would know so even blind.

“fuck off.”

[lynzishell]

They are everything to me

[hyuuukais]

⋆.˚𖦹°‧✮‧°𖦹˚.⋆ ERROR 404

pairing ~ yang jeongin x fem reader

synopsis ~ y/n starts getting messages from an unknown number after buying a used phone for cheap. as she finds out more about the boy she's talking to, it turns out there's much more to this than a wrong number --- he died, and she's talking to his spirit, yet he has no idea what happened to him. will y/n have what it takes to solve the mystery of his death? or will the boy's spirit remained trapped in his phone?

warnings ~ framed suicide, murder, drug mention, kidnapping, abuse, blood/injuries, addiction, use of alcohol, swearing, ghosts, minor character death

taglist ~ 18+, no ageless blogs

MASTERLIST

���ROLL CALL !

CH 1 ~ UNKNOWN NUMBER CH 2 ~ THE PLAYGROUND CH 3 ~ LAKE HAVEN CH 4 ~ ENERGY CH 5 ~ FAMILY TIES CH 6 ~ RELIVING THE PAST Ch 7 ~ WHAT HAPPENED TO HAN JISUNG? CH 8 ~ SELF-DEFENSE CH 9 ~ BLACKMAIL CH 10 ~ THE FINAL ACT

[raiiny-bay]

made this & then realized i wanted to make something else instead

[incorrect-hs-quotes]

TT: You're not ascending to godhood, you're just dehydrated.

TG: outta my way gayboy im boutta libarwte my divine seof from this mortsl shell

--- tipsyGnostalgic [TG] is now an idle chum! ---

--- tipsyGnostalgic [TG] is no longer idle! ---

TG: h

TG: hopital

[ikeasharksss]

i notice some fanfics (& poorly written books) pay a lot of attention to characters' eye colors, so now i'm curious

[beachytablecloth]

opposing lawyer: you guys defrauded the legal system and i won’t let you get away with it

harvey (unprompted): UM DID YOU JUST SAY SOMETHING BAD ABOUT MIKE ROSS? MIKE ROSS IS A GODDAMN SAINT. MIKE ROSS HAS NEVER HURT A FLY. MIKE ROSS IS THE BEST PERSON ON THE PLANET. HE IS A VERY GOOD BOY AND HE IS MY LITTLE BABYGIRL AND IF YOU SO MUCH AS BLINK IN HIS DIRECTION I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU AND YOUR ENTIRE FAMILY

[lovesickeros]

☆ words better left unsaid

{☆} characters zhongli {☆} notes cult au, yandere, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings yandere {☆} word count 0.4k

He sits as still as a marble statue, a moment in time – of power, of the singing of metal against metal that fills his ears, of the smell of blood so heavy he can still vividly remember it, even now – he had long since left behind, carved into stone.

You, on the contrary, are not so still. Your hands caress his body like you are a painter creating stroke after stroke with your brush – up the curve of his horns, mindful of the sharp point, down to the scales of his cheeks and the sharp, jagged edges of his teeth that barely fit in a jaw not made for them.

And he let's you – oh how he lets you. He does not think there is anything in the world he could deny you.

He dares not breathe, fearing it will shatter this moment in such a way that he will never get it back. He is not meant to be a living being, in this moment – he is no Archon, nor even the mortal Zhongli. He is the canvas of which you paint your masterpiece with wandering hands that leave goosebumps on his skin.

And what a feeling it is. Euphoria, he thinks, is an apt description – yet at the same time nothing can truly put a word to the feeling of the Creators gaze falling upon him and him alone, to know your touch and to hear your voice.

His body cramps and aches at holding the position for so long, but it is so easy to ignore, so easily drowned out by the waves of adoration that swells in his chest. It is so very easy to ignore the way his body protests when your hands cup his face, and he feels like he must be the luckiest man in the world.

It is so very easy to forget everything when you are so close he can feel your breath against his lips – so easy to forget that he should stay still when he coils his tail around your waist, his arms encircling your back – mindful of his claws.

There is no word to describe the feeling of your lips, the warmth and softness with which you look at him in the moments before your eyes close, the feeling of your body and his entwined like you were never meant to be apart. He does not even try to put it into words – his actions will do it instead.

And perhaps you will not recognize the possessiveness with which he holds you, but that's alright.

He has all the time in the world.

And so will you.

[fulgurbugs]

Tressa + Therion Duopath - Goldshore (1)

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[ambrosethedarling]

Jayrose nation this next one is for you !!!

Forehead kiss to whoever knows which panels I’m redrawing