#OH and sew the long part of the bangs in

[frostedsugarcookiehearts]

but i miss... (screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain)

୨ৎ

"guess that lady had wisdom beyond her years, 'cause that bernie's place was pretty good." schlatt huffed begrudgingly as you two sat in the lobby of the diner, waiting for your guys's uber. it was raining hard outside (it hadn't rained in weeks, and schlatt was really starting to believe that the universe had a plot against him).

your face lit up. "right? what a good omen that we found her. maybe the universe is looking out for us."

he blinked at you. out of all the things that happened today, you saw those things as blessings? they seemed more like inconveniences to him, but he could say something for your ability to make everything more chipper. it's something, one of the things, he liked most about you.

"maybe it is," he hummed, glancing around. he points to a random gift shop. "wanna wait out the rain over there?"

"you're the boss," you quip, grinning from ear to ear as the two of you ran through the rain, giggling as you panted, making your way inside the giftshop. you two stalked the shelves of the giftshop, trying to see if there were any cool trinkets while you waited for your uber (who was taking so long at this point you assumed he was on foot.)

a grin crossed schlatt's face as his eyes fell upon a weird little figurine. "hey, look at this little guy." he flicked it, chuckling to himself. he glanced to his side to see if you were still there, but you'd disappeared! "hey, LA?" he called your nickname, getting increasingly worried as he checked every aisle.

eventually, he found you, cooing over a little stuffed bear. "it's simba!" you chirped, hugging the stuffed toy to your chest. "from, from—"

"—the lion king." schlatt finished, smiling. "i'm not that old, c'mon." his heart melted when he saw how... happy you were. about a few pieces of cotton sewed together. and he wanted to see you that happy, all the time.

so he bought you the thing. it was $15, which was a steal for a new york gift shop. but really? he would've paid thousands to see you as happy as you were then.

the whole walk home, you cooed at the thing, (you named it simba) giggling and tossing him up and down in the air as if he were your own child. schlatt got a kick out of it, chuckling as your head hit his shoulder, your mouth still yammering a mile a minute. to steady you, he tentatively wrapped an arm around your waist. he felt a tingle go up his spine.

as the rain started to come down again, schlatt shrugged his coat off and hung it over your shoulders. "gotta keep your hair all nice and shiny. big day tomorrow," he hummed, trying to keep it as casual as ever. "you scared?"

"no." you smiled, shook your head. "art isn't... scary. quite the opposite. it's more freeing, than anything. to express yourself. your whole self."

"that's the name of your exhibit, no? 'my whole self'." he echoes, a smile reserved. "you still haven't told me what it's about."

a knowing look on your face, all you said was simply— "you'll see," and oh boy, did he.

the next morning, he was at your exhibition. he'd brought ted along (because he was the one who introduced you two, and he loved a good art show.) there were parts about the exhibition that weren't surprising— that everyone was fawning over you, or people were offering you thousands of dollars for your paintings, no, that was standard. he expected it. what he didn't expect, though, was that there were paintings he... recognized. one was even of him. and he didn't want to be egotistical, but they seemed awfully romantic. even ted agreed. "she made you a collection," ted hummed thoughtfully, looking up at one of your paintings. "took your essence and painted 'em, really. she must like you a lot."

schlatt was fucking stunned. sure, he'd made a "paint me like your french girls" crack once or twice after you two had downed a whole bottle of wine that made then-sober schlatt bang his head into the wall, but he thought it was all in jest. or the lingering touches and stares— you just had a flirty personality, that was it.

but no. you were in love.

and so was he.

second day in a row in new york it was raining— a new record for the year. he got a glimpse of you leaving the shoot, and he fucking sprinted out of there, chasing after you.

"hey, you, wait up!" he panted. you were easy to spot, after all. you still had all that color in your hair from when he first met you (the rainbowdash jokes never got old to him, but then you called him a brony and he shut up.)

that smile again. "jay."

jay. you always called him schlatt. "that's me," he winced the second the lame joke left his lips, but what else was he to do? "i, uhm... loved the exhibit."

"thank you."

"right, so..." his breaths were uneven as the rain came down on both of you— only difference was you had an umbrella. "i wanted to say something."

intrigued, you let out a polite chuckle. "floor's all yours, big guy."

"you are fucking electrifying. you light up a room like... like a disco ball, alright? you make everything cool, and i'm so lucky you took an interest in a loser like me slumming it up in your party in los angeles. and i'd never want to say anything to drive you away, and the only reason i'm bringing it up is 'cause, well, i don't think i'm alone in feeling that, yeah?" in and out, his breaths were heavy from speaking so long without pausing.

breathless, all you could give was a weak nod. "yeah."

"right." he echoed, nodding. "i— i love you. so damn much, toots, drives me up the wall. and i know 'them's fighting words', as you'd say, but uhm... i would. fight, i mean. for you. if you want me to." schlatt groans, burying his face in his hands and dragging them down his face. "starting over. i just mean that... there is no one like you, in this world. seven billion people and there's only one i want, with bright colored hair and art that takes my breath away. that's you, by the way, if you weren't paying attention." you laugh. good, he thinks. i must be doing something right. "and i know that maybe you don't get my lifestyle, my job, youtube, whatever. but there's always people watching my every move, i know that. fangirls that would murder the president for me or something."

"but i don't want them. i don't care about them and their parasocial shit. i want you. forever, always, whatever fucking noun or adverb or adjective you want me to say. i want you. on a bad day, on a good day— hell, even if you paint a photo of me with a little dick and post it for the entire world to see. i don't care. just as long as you're happy. so, what i'm asking is... do you want to be happy, with me? be my girl, in fuckin' simpler terms, i guess."

and the best sound of all graced his ears. your laughter, same as when you two were on the train and when you two were walking home late last night with simba's stuffed arms in each of your hands.

smiling, you answered, "of course."

୨ৎ

enjoy part 2!! :) <3

divider creds @omi-resources

[sparklystarrrr]

Not me wanting to be self-indulgent with this ask…

BUT I AM BEGGING YOU FOR MORE RIDDLE AND HATTER!READER BECAUSE I ALSO ACT FUCKING INSANE AROUND PEOPLE I LOVE AND IT FEELS LIKE SOMEONE ACTUALLY WROTE A FIC OF ME ROMANCING RIDDLE!!!

PLEASE! PLEASE! PLEASE!

MORE PWEASE!!!

(Also have a nice timezone)

HELP I LOVE HOW MANY RIDDLE REQUESTS I GET I LOVE WRITING ABOUT MY HUSBAND

Hats Galore Pt. 2

Synopsis: Hat making is best done in pairs, is it not?

Contains: Riddle R. x Gn! Mad Hatter! Reader, extension of pt.1, kinda crack, SO FLUFFY

"Riddle boy, do come quickly now, yes you should! Any slower and the dodo feathers may fly away. It took me a couple fingers and a road this that and the other way to obtain, yes it did!"(y/n) squealed while pulling Riddle along with them. “You are truly talented dear. Would it be alright if you could perhaps… teach me?” He said with a slight flush on his cheeks.

(Y/n)’s eyes sparkled, “Teach you? My oh my, what fun! A hat shall be yours in due time Riddle boy!” They quickly grabbed hold of Riddle’s other hand and dragged him along to their room. Inside, it was cluttered to put it lightly. Fabrics, feathers, glue, sewing materials and more were scattered around the room. Hats made previously were decorating the wall from the floor to the ceiling. "Watch your step Riddle! My ideas are scattered along these rickety floors!"

"I can see as much, dear."Riddle said with a smile and let out an airy chuckle as he carefully stepped over some buttons and peacock feathers. The two clumsily made their way to the small desk with a set of cushioned chairs covered in a wide variation of plaid fabrics. A few patches clung to the wooden legs to hold them on, but overall they were very sturdy. The red haired boy sat gently down on the cushion while the (h/c)ette sat with a small clunk of rattling glass bottles and colliding wood.

"Time to make your special hat, my boy!"(y/n) snatched Riddle's petite golden crown off of his head and set it aside. They pulled a comically long measuring tape from a rather small pocket in their pants and wrapped it around his head. "Hmm..." They hummed while reading the measurement ,"Ah, One moment!" "Alright- HUH?!" Riddle jumped in shock as (y/n) hopped right out of their chair and flung themself into an abnormally large closet full of an insane amount of hats.

An avalanche of hats started falling upon the hatter and the boy jumped from his seat. “D-dear?! Are you alright??!!” He shouted. Once the sea of hats calmed there was a small humming coming from beneath the pile. Suddenly, hats exploded from the top of the pile. There out of the pile was (y/n) holding a crushed red velvet top hat waiting to be customized. “Riddle darling! I have the most wondrous hat for you! It is more awe striking than twelve dozen flowers singing a melodic tune, yes it is!”

Riddle panicked once again when he saw (y/n) jump out of the large hat mountain. He nervously held his arms out to catch them as they made a crash landing into him. With a loud bang, (y/n) fell right into Riddle's arms making him stumble back and fall on his butt. He yelped loudly as (y/n) fell right into his lap, hands still firm on the red top hat that they dug out from the hat mountain. "Hah, seems I've squashed this poor rosebud... Up we go now, wouldn't you like to fancy a new hat for tea time? A queen shall wear a crown no smaller than a tea mouse and no larger than a walrus, as said in your silly rule book!" (y/n) giggled heartily.

Riddle's smile softened and he rested his head upon their shoulder. He spoke softly with a sigh and wrapped his arms around their waist,”You are truly a rambunctious one…” (Y/n) rested a hand on his shoulder and pressed their cheek against the boy’s head. “And you’ve grown accustomed to it, I see!” The (h/c)ette teased. His cheeks grew flushed into a rosy pink. ‘I truly have…’ he thought. He melted into their warmth slowly. 

(Y/n) looked down with parted lips, suddenly feeling a little calmer. Their eyes softened and melted ever so close to Riddle. They pressed a warm kiss onto the crown of his rose red hair. The boy gasped.”(Y-(y/n)!” He sputtered as his face bloomed a hot pink.

(y/n) giggled happily at his reaction,”What? A bird will not know affection unless it’s mate performs upfront, no it won’t!” They then pressed one final smooch onto the red haired boy’s soft pale cheek and hopped to their feet.

They held out their hand to him,”Let’s go make a lovely hat for you now, yes we should!” Riddle’s expression turned from one of shyness to a content grin. “Yes.. yes we absolutely should my dear!” He placed his hand gently into theirs and they shoved him to his feet with a force that nearly knocked him over. They scampered over to the desk and plopped into their seats, quickly getting to work.

A few hours later and some fingers nearly stuck together, the hat was finally done. Riddle sauntered out of their room with a new hat fit for the Housewarden of Heartslabyul and his partner happily on his arm. “A hat truly fit for you, Riddle boy!” They exclaimed. Riddle simply looked to them with the widest smile he’s had since forever. “Thank you…” He spoke under his breath. As if he couldn’t quite contain himself, he swiftly pulled them into him and pressed a kiss against their soft lips. And for the first time ever, the sweet hatter was left in an absolute daze. Their cheeks flushed slightly as they held a gummy smile on their lips when he pulled back.

The Heartslabyul students thought he was a little odd for wearing the heavily decorated hat, but hyped the two up nonetheless

Every time i write something for heartslabyul i always say the dialogue in a british accent to make it sound more authentic to the characters… i love my little british man

[enwrites]

Cloud Nine (p.sh)

parings: brother’s bff!sunghoon x afab!reader

warning: 18+ MDNI !! not proofread (sorry for mistakes)

genre/cw: smut, e2l, mutual masturbation, voyeurism, sunghoon is a creep kinda, brother’s best friend trope, spit play, oral (male receiving), pillow riding, degradation, size kink, strength play, choking, breeding, spanking, sunghoon is pretty mean to reader, one year age gap, jay is your brother (lmk if anything was missed!)

synopsis: You and Sunghoon have never gotten along. Ever. Constant bickering and fights to the point your brother is fed up as well. What no one knew was how badly you wanted Sunghoon spewing those same words to your face in your bed. What happens when he sees something he shouldn’t have seen?

wc: 3.6k words

a/n: hi hi !! this is my first ever fic on here !! pls let me know how this was and im happy to receive any feedback <3 a hee fic is currently in the works, i just had sunghoon brain rot so i needed to let this one out LOL (update: part two coming soon ;))

[ masterlist ] [ part 2 ]

From as long as you remember, you have always hated your brother’s best friend— Park Sunghoon. Nothing about him amused you and you especially hated the way he always seems to be at your house every weekend. You couldn’t escape him. From his annoying laugh to his stupid ego, you hated everything.

But you couldn’t help but be so attracted to him. Yes, he was annoying but man was he just everything in a package. Tall and gorgeous… not to mention his insanely fit body. You couldn’t help but wonder how big he’d be, hovering over your small frame. But everything disappears in an instant the moment you hear loud knocks on your door. 

“Y/n can you get that! It’s Sunghoon!” your brother Jay yells at you from the kitchen. The knocks persist as you stay put, pretending to ignore your older brother as it was his friend anyways. Why should you open the door for a monster? “Y/n please, I’ll make you something to eat too,” your brother begs you. With a loud groan you mutter a “fine” and drag yourself off the couch, heading to the door to open it. Before he could loudly bang on the door once more, you pull the door open. He looks at you with a disgusted face. 

“Ugh, did not wanna see your face at the door,” he spits, walking past you making sure to bump your shoulder with his. You slam the door shut giving an annoyed smile back at him.

“If you had forgotten, this has been my house forever, you’re lucky I even open the door for heathens like you,” you spit back, your voice laced with venom. He squints his eyes at you, sticking his tongue out as he makes his way towards the kitchen. “Jay, can you tell your annoying little sister to shut the hell up for once oh my god,” Sunghoon complained to Jay as he walked into the Kitchen.

“How about you both shut the hell up,” Jay annoyedly said rolling his eyes as he put the pizza he’s been working on in the oven. He was never fond of the both of you constantly barking at one another. He thought maybe he was insane for thinking he felt some sort of tension between the two of you. He loved you both but seriously wished he could sew both of your mouths together whenever he felt like it. 

“HE STARTED IT!” You yelled in protest. You crossed your arms as you stood at the kitchen doorway, Sunghoon sticking his tongue out at you once again before turning to Jay. 

“I don’t care who started it, can you both just give me a single day of peace!” Jay exclaims letting out a sigh. A migraine was surely going to form sooner or later for him. Before you both can protest, he ushers the both of you out so that he can finish making the pizzas with some sanity left. You both grumpily make your way to the couch and sit on opposite ends. To your surprise, at least your favorite show was playing when you got back to your seat on the couch. 

“This show is so stupid, I’m changing it,” Sunghoon says as he reaches for the remote on the coffee table. Before he could get it, you immediately jumped up and grabbed the remote first.

“NO. This is my favorite show and my house, I’m not letting you change anything,” you loudly said to him. But he wasn’t going to let you go easily. 

“I don’t give a flying fuck if this is your favorite show or not, I wanna watch something else,” He spits back. With that, he lunges at you towards the remote. You hurriedly crawl back to where you were, making sure he couldn’t take the remote away from you. 

“Sunghoon stop it,” You struggled to let out as he was enclosing you on the couch. Your breath starts to hitch the closer he gets to you. You could feel him breathing on you. He pins you beneath him, his arms longer than yours as he reaches for the remote you try to hold behind your head. Sunghoon didn’t realize how compromising of a position you both were in until he finally reached for the remote in your hands and looked down at you.

There you were, under him, staring back at him with your doe eyes, crop top hiked up just a bit to where your bra was showing. He didn’t realize how short your shorts really were until now. Eying you up and down, he licks his lips. His thoughts were interrupted with you trying to get him off of you. You have come to your senses and realized how turned on he had just made you, immediately trying to push him off. He just pins your arms down more, inching closer to your ear.

“Stupid girls like you don’t deserve to do things they wanna do,” he whispers. His hot breath sends tingles down your body and you swear you get a little wetter. You try to push him off once more but he doesn’t budge. “Are you going to apologize to me for being so annoying now?” he asks. He looks at you, finding it amusing the way you’re struggling under him right now. He can’t help but think how you’d look naked under him. Sunghoon has always had a thing for you.

“Apologize for what? For your mother raising a dickface, that's you?” you bite back, rolling your eyes at him. Before he could say anything, Jay yells from

in the kitchen the pizzas are done. Sunghoon loosens his grip which gives you the perfect opportunity to push him down and onto the floor, scurrying your way towards your brother. Sunghoon gets up shaking his head… this wasn’t over for him.

Hours passed since your little altercation with Sunghoon earlier in the living room. You couldn’t get him out of your head. Your mind was racing and it didn’t help that he wore his stupid gray sweatpants once again. Thinking about the way he pinned you down and whispered in your ear was enough to get you excited again. With that, you take your shorts and crop top off, leaving you in just your lace undergarments underneath. You just so happened to put on a white matching set— Sunghoon’s favorite color.

To the thought of Sunghoon, you lean back down onto your bed and start to rub small circles on your panty covered clit. It’s embarrassing how wet you already were just thinking about him. You rub just a bit more, sliding your fingers up and down your pussy, feeling the wetness that pooled down there. But this wasn’t enough. You were so desperate and in need of something to satisfy you. You sit up, grabbing the second pillow beside you, putting it beneath you. 

Folding it just a bit, you straddle it. Slowly grinding down onto the pillow under you, imagining yourself riding Sunghoon. You hump the pillow in desperation, trying to get off. You grind and grind, wishing Sunghoon’s cock filled you up instead. 

Unbeknownst to you, Jay had fallen asleep to the movie he and Sunghoon were watching. Realizing that his friend was asleep, he decided to make his way to find you, just to mess with you again. He always found it so cute how annoyed you’d get to his teasing. But today was different, he wanted more. If it weren’t for Jay, he swears he would’ve taken you on the couch right there and then. Making his way down the long hall towards your room, he notices a faint light coming from the small crack of your door. He carefully steps closer and to his surprise, the sight before him was nothing he ever expected to see in a million years.

There you were, on your bed, wearing nothing but a skimpy lace lingerie set, grinding down on a pillow so desperately. He watches you, making sure he stays as quiet as possible to not get caught. There you were, humping a pillow, your hips grinding over and over, letting out the cutest sounds he has ever heard. Did you know your door was a bit cracked? Who cares, he was enjoying the view. 

Sunghoon palms himself as he watches you, not wanting to even blink in fear of missing the show. He just couldn’t believe this was happening. Before the realization of him being a creep watching you pleasure yourself through the crack of your door, that’s when he hears it. You had moaned his name. His dick twitched in his pants, painfully hard and needing to be released.

“S-Sunghoon, you feel so good,” you moaned, increasing your speed on the pillow. He swore he was gonna explode right then and there. He had to have you. But he knew he had to punish you as well. He pushes the door open even more and to his surprise you hadn’t noticed yet. Hell, you haven’t even noticed the fact that he closed the door before him as well.

Loss in your trance, Sunghoon watched you just for a bit before making his move. He clears his throat to get your attention. Startled, you urgently grabbed your blanket to cover yourself, shocked to see Sunghoon in your room. There he looked at you with a smug smile painted on his face.

You swore you saw evil behind those eyes.

“Oh don’t stop now, I was enjoying my show,” he pouts, walking closer to you, standing in front of your bed. “Go on, I’m here now, isn’t that what you wanted?” he asked in a cheeky tone. Your face was red and embarrassment washed over you. You wanted to run away. You felt like a deer caught in the headlights. 

“I’m not gonna tell you again, go on, continue what you were doing,” he demanded, pulling your blanket off of you. You were at a loss for words. But something in you gave into him. You start to straddle the pillow again, grinding your pussy against it. Embarrassed, you tilt your head down, trying to avoid any eye contact. You can’t help but get so turned on as he watches you. You hump your pillow desperately letting out whines and moans, trying your best to not be too loud.

“Hoonie~,” You moaned loudly, humping your pillow as you grew wetter. You felt so dirty. You couldn’t believe this was happening right now. You felt like you were on cloud nine and he hasn’t even touched you yet.

Sunghoon smirks, he takes in the scene in front of him, he couldn’t take it anymore and slips his pants down, freeing his hard on. He starts to slowly stroke, watching you as you pleasure yourself. His tip was red and angry, leaking a bit of precum already. He wanted to see more of you. 

“Take your bra off,” he demands. You look up at him, shocked to see him pleasuring himself. The sight of his cock making your mouth water. He was huge. No way you can fit that in you, you don’t even think it’ll fit in your mouth. Nevertheless, you obliged and took your bra off, your boobs slowly falling out of the cups. Embarrassed, you try to cover yourself again. He takes his pants and boxers off right away, signaling for you to get closer to him. He needed to feel your mouth on him. 

“As much as I love to see you getting yourself off, I need your pretty little mouth on my cock right now,” he said, sitting down on the bed beside you. He pushes you off the bed and onto your knees right in front of him. Watching you carefully, he grabs a fistful of your hair and pushes your face against his cock. 

“Open wide,” he instructs, hand still in your hair. You reach your hand up to his shaft, opening your mouth to finally get a taste of him. His tip was already leaking. You put his tip in your mouth. He lets out low groans, guiding you as he grips onto your hair even more. As you expected, he definitely could not fit into your mouth. So using your hand that was on his shaft, you start to stroke him as you suck him off. Getting lost in the pleaser, he needed to be down your throat and that he was gonna do. 

“Hands behind your back now,” he firmly said, the tone of his voice catching you off guard but you obliged, your panties getting stickier as the seconds passed. You put your hands behind your back and he starts to buck his hips, his tip reaching further and further down your throat. The sound of him groaning fills the room immediately. You just prayed to the lord your brother was sound asleep. 

With his dick down your throat, you can’t help but feel so turned on. This was dirty, you’ve never deepthroat a dick in your life. Well dicks as big as Sunghoon’s. He watches you, making sure to keep eye contact.

“I’ve always known you were a little whore, but letting me fuck your little mouth while your brother’s asleep down the hall?” he grunts out, slamming his cock in and out of your mouth. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, taking in the pleasure. He felt as if he was in a dream. Your eyes teary as all you can let out are moans against his dick. Being too turned on, you snaked your hand from behind your back and into your panties. You attempt to rub your clit as he fucks into your mouth. Now it was your turn to close your eyes from the intense pleasure. Your moans intensify, catching Sunghoon’s attention.

There he saw you, touching yourself. As much as he enjoyed watching you get off, never did he allow you to pleasure yourself as you were pleasuring him. He forcefully tugs you by your hair and off his cock, shaking his head at you as if he was disappointed. You take this time to catch your breath, puzzled at why he suddenly stopped. He then pulls you up by your hair, making sure you were eye level with him. He takes his other hand and grabs your face, squishing your cheeks to make sure you were looking right into his eyes. Chills ran through your body.

“Did I say you can touch yourself?” he quietly asks, you can feel his breath on your face. You shake your head, looking pitiful in his eyes. “Did I say you can touch yourself?” he repeats, that venomous tone coming back to his voice. You were nervous. 

“N-No…,” you shakily said. Your breathing intensifies. Sunghoon lets out an almost evil laugh. “I guess this little slut needs a punishment.” 

With that, he tosses you onto the bed. With your backside up, he drags your body to the edge. Standing right behind you, your legs hanging off, he starts to caress your cheeks. Taking in the beauty of your backside, it took everything in him to not take you right there and then. 

“Take your panties off,” he demands. You angle your butt up just a bit and reach behind you, slowly pulling them down, making sure he sees everything. He was watching you as if you were his prey and he was about to get ready to feast on a meal. The glistening sheen of your arousal stares back at him as you fully remove your panties. He couldn’t wait to have you. He makes his way closer to you, one hand on your ass and the other sliding up and down your folds. You were soaking, practically dripping down your legs.

“Please… touch me Hoonie…,” you softly spoke, the lack of physical action killing you on the inside. Still painfully hard and turned on, he swore he was going to explode right there, hearing your soft voice begging for him to touch you. Before you could speak up again, he spanks you. Caught off guard, you let out a yelp, the action turning you on even more. And then again, a spank lands onto your cheeks. His other hand’s still feeling your wetness, teasing you in an agonizing way. “I wanna hear you beg.”

You shiver a bit as his voice drops even lower than before. You couldn’t believe you were letting him do this to you in the first place. Feeling a sense of pride wash over, you were getting a bit fed up and were about to protest until yet another slap landed onto your cheek. This time harder than the previous two. 

“I said– beg,” he leaned down and whispered in your ear. You gulp, feeling trapped beneath him. 

“Hoonie please… need you so bad,” every sense of pride and dignity was thrown out the window as you let those words out of your mouth. “Sorry I can’t hear you. What did you say?” he snickers back, egging you on. With one hand now on your waist and the other rubbing his tip up and down your slick folds, he needed to hear you say it one more time. Too horny to even fight back, you crumbled beneath him, just wanting his cock in you as soon as possible. 

“Sunghoon please fuck me already, I need your cock in me right now!” you loudly said, he leans back down and into your ear he whispers a “good girl.” He pushes his tip into you, already feeling like your pussy was sucking him in. You both let out a moan. He felt so big in you and it was just the tip. 

“S-So… big …,” you muttered. He chuckles. “It’s just the tip baby, can’t handle my cock already?” he presses. You shake your head letting out a tiny squeal and he enters you even more. Fully into you, you felt as if you were being stretched out to the max, no way could you handle this. Yet your pussy was craving more.

Sunghoon couldn't handle it, without giving you any proper time to adjust, he starts stroking into you. Grabbing onto your waist with both of his hands, he fucks you hard on the edge of the bed. Seeing your small frame beneath him and the way your body was just engulfed by his hands, he gets even more turned on.

“So fucking tight Y/n, so fucking wet and all for me– is that right doll?” he grunts out as he slams his cock into you, trying his hardest not to cum. But your cute little moans were making it so hard for him, he felt so lost in the pleasure. 

“Y-Yes all y-yours Hoonie~,” you moan loudly, not a single worry in your body. Just you and Sunghoon. He couldn’t take it anymore, he had to see your face. In a swift second, Sunghoon flips you over, still standing at the edge of the bed, he puts your legs over his shoulders as he pumps deeper into you. Fucking you into your bed, he leans down, grabbing your face he pulls you into a heated kiss. Your lips mesh together like they’ve been dying for this moment all their lives. He reaches down to your neck, giving it a small squeeze, startled, you open your mouth which gives him access to stick his tongue. Your tongues dance with one other, Sunghoon starting to feel drunk off of you. After what felt like forever, he pulls back, hand on your jaw, holding your mouth open. He spits in it. You let out a loud whiny moan, feeling more aroused than ever before in your life. You instantly swallow, making him lose his mind. 

“You’re such a filthy little slut, swallowing my spit, letting me fuck you like this, is this what you wanted– huh?” He speaks to you, all you could get out were little yelps of “yes.” With your arms snaked around his neck, he pushes your legs off from his shoulders, shocking you he lifts you up off the bed and starts to pound into you harder and harder. You knew Sunghoon was fit but you didn’t know he was that fit. Taking you by surprise with this new angle, he holds you up as he fucks you hard, his pace increasing. You start to feel a knot in your stomach form, getting so close to your climax. Your pussy clenching around him, so tight and pulsating, he knew he was getting close as well. Room filled entirely of moans, skin slapping, and the smell of sex, you needed him to fill you up.

Before you knew it, with one hard pump, you screamed, cumming all over his cock. Overstimulated, he sets you back down onto the bed, helping you ride out your orgasm as he was soon to reach his. The feeling of your wetness and your cum all mixed into one was enough for him to unload right into you. With a few more strokes, he releases, holding onto your body as he rides out his own climax, pumping his seed into you. You felt so full and exhausted. He carefully pulls out, watching as his cum spills out from your pussy. It was a sight he never wanted to forget. He quickly grabs his phone to capture the moment, fingering his load that was spilling out of you back into your hole. You couldn’t help but blush, feeling a bit embarrassed. Sunghoon lays beside you, as he trails kisses along your neck. 

“Fuck– you’re all mine,” he said against your neck. Before any realization could hit the both of you as to what you guys just did with one another, the distinct sound of buzzing came from both of your phones. Your faces went pale.

*Jay added Y/n and Sunghoon to a group.*

Jay: You guys are fucking disgusting.

© enwrites // tumblr

[roguishcat]

For the wip folder ask game:

Oh oh oh!!! I want to see more about: Thank you for calling 😏😏

❤️

Thank you so much for the ask, my friend! 💖💖

Hehe, this is a fun one that I am trying not to turn into more than a one- or two-shot😊 . Because I can't possibly do a long-fic.

It's a Modern AU with elf Astarion finding himself fired from his job and in considerable debt to Cazador, working as a phone sex operator to pay off the said debt. Here is a snippet from the SFW part of the story. Hope you like it!💖

However, talking his way out of the sticky situation turned out to be harder than he initially thought. Whilst the company charged an extortionate amount to the customers, Astarion got paid a miniscule percentage of that. Luckily, he quickly became so popular that customers started requesting him. And being requested meant slightly better pay. It wouldn’t be enough to make a considerable dent in his debt, but it was a start.

Prior to starting this job he had no idea that there were so many prepared to pay for make believe sex they thought they would never get in real life. He himself never had any issues in finding someone to warm his bed. He was certain that he was an excellent lover and very experienced when it came to pleasure.

Therefore, Astarion had no problem charging the callers for the experience. He didn't think of it as selling himself. Honestly, it was just a bit of fun for them and a way out for him. In fact, sometimes he had to talk very little, his customers carrying the narration and him just adding a moan or a well-timed grunt here and there. Many of them enjoyed it when he spoke elvish, apparently being an elf made him exotic and desirable.

In spite of what they thought, he didn’t actually enjoy their verbal trysts. Initially, he thought that he might as well. But days became weeks, and weeks became months. What amused him before quickly became mind-numbingly boring. Yet, once a routine was established and Astarion found himself busying himself with pleasant little hobbies. Whilst his voice brought pleasure to others, his mind was otherwise occupied.

Going through several inexpensive, quiet hobbies that wouldn’t distract him too much, Astarion finally landed on embroidery and sewing. He enjoyed the former better, lacking the skills to sew something overly complicated. But being able to spruce up his tiny apartment with pleasant, embroidered pillows, monogram his clothes, conceal signs of wear and tear certainly improved his mood.

Astarion was just considering trying his hand at knitting, having purchased some gorgeous ivory yarn at a great discount, when he heard his phone ring. He looked at his watch and frowned. It was not time for any of his regulars. A new faceless stranger to entertain. And just when he was looking forward to anything but that.

But of course, he picked up. Money was money, and he would be a fool to turn down a potential regular.

“Well, hello there, darling,” he purred, knowing that this line alone would be enough to ignite most fires.

"Um... I don't usually do this. I mean- I've never-"

Astarion rolled his eyes. They all said that.

I would never do something like this.

This is my first time.

My finger slipped and my phone accidentally dialled this number.

Most of the time it was all an act, of course. In his experience, people wanted to have their cake and eat it to. To have him, or his voice rather, and to feel that they were not the type to engage with someone like him.

Except this one sounded like she was about to hang up and Astarion couldn’t have that. A job was a job, so he would perform as well for this one as for any other customer.

"Don't you worry, my sweet. I will take very, very good care of you.”

“I’m sure you would,” she laughed nervously, “but actually that’s not why I’m calling.”

A little deviation from routine. ‘No bang, bang, thank you ma’am’ for this one, apparently.

“Oh? Do enlighten me then. Why are you calling?” Astarion set aside the soft yarn he had prepared earlier with some annoyance. He would actually have to focus on the call to make sure that she had no complaints.

“I just want to talk. As in, talk talk. Like, chat for a bit.”

Okay, she was nervous and needed to be eased into it. He could work with that.

“We can do anything and everything you like. Although are you sure that you want to waste precious moments on talking about inconsequential nothings? My mouth can be used for all sorts of other, wicked things.”

“Whilst this sounds lovely, I just want to chat.”

“Chat?” he said a little harsher than he meant to. This was ridiculous. He did not chat! But then again, did it really matter? He supposed it was her money down the drain.

“Just to be clear, darling. You are prepared to spend all that money to simply talk about the weather?”

“Well,” she laughed, “we don’t have to talk about the weather exactly. It’s just… I’ve recently moved. And I have no one here. It gets lonely.”

[saltinmysweaters]

This time I will change, I swear to it!

Tonight I find myself on the roof

A place I'd only ever come with you

Old habits, they die hard, don't they?

Oh, they don't hardly die

I'm the same person I was an hour ago, 

yesterday, 

a year ago,

Just with a little less light in my eyes

But the darkness is no longer sacred, is it? 

For when the streetlights come up, you can never be alone

Tonight, it is silent, save for the sound of pots and pans

And joyous voices raising up in song all across the coast

That cacophonous cocoon of pleasure that I am not a part of

I don’t mind; in a matter of time that mirth will be mine

I will spin myself into something great until I’m dizzy

This time I will change, I swear to it!

Tonight I find myself on your front doorstep

I don't know the way there, or where you even live

  but somehow my body did

And I bang on the battered wood to tell you that I am not who you think I am

And that I do do whatever I want (in moderation)

And that any progress is progress at all, microscopic or small

Oh, this time I'll show you, I will!

I was never young, oh, forgive me if I was

A leaf, fresh and green, is pinched between my fingers

Tonight, I wasn't kind, so tomorrow, I'll be kinder

And when I doubt my kindness I'll use you as a reminder

I may avert my eyes, I may stare too long,

I may hold my tongue, I may let it run,

I do not burn bridges, though I may leave them charred,

But I always leave the door open, I always leave the light on

For those who want to enter, I’ll be waiting in the parlor

Legs crossed, arms wide, eyes flick’ring like a white lighter

Low on fluid, but ready to burn all that you know anew.

Sometimes I'd wake up to find myself in a prison of my own making

With shiny prints of you and me taped up on the wall

Stalking in circles like a caged, wounded animal

Sopping up the blood I’d left on the bed

Sometimes you'd be my cellmate telling me how you were going to get us out, set us free

Or rather that you'd left and come back to tell me you could save me

Your elaborate scheme to finally shake me of myself

To carve a hole in the wall with something other than my fist and get out "for good"

But this system, it’s broken; Most prisoners come right back, you know.

The safety of the brick wall, the routine of the wake up call

The food in the the belly and the shelter from the storm outside

And sometimes even I think I'd do anything to be locked up with you again

Ever testing the limits of our love, performing for nobody, fighting over nothing

But is it better to be safe and suffering, or free and facing the flood?

Maybe the heart yearns for the simpler struggle, when times were not easy but easier

But why did you throw the key into the water? Why must you always make yourself a martyr?

Sometimes I'd wake up to find myself in a hell of my own making

(This is most times; an hour ago, yesterday, and tomorrow, too)

Where my only shelter was behind words and assorted symbols

And when even those no longer withstood the test of time

The red river the Torah warned me of would come rushing down my street

And all that raced for my heart's favor would trample me to its pulsing beat

Leaving me as nothing but blood, love, and carnage

And it was wonderful to not be anything else, if only for a moment

Before human nature came and tried to sew me back together

Open the door! Someone is there and they want to save me!

They want to let me inside, to let me sit by the fire and thaw my frozen fingers!

Oh, slight change of heart: do not open the door.

Through the peephole I saw someone that had my face, a past iteration of myself, maybe?

(This is the one that wrings my hands and pulls my hair out in clumps; this one will not save me)

Do not open the door, leave me out in the storm a moment more,

I’ve seen this charade a million times before, soon enough I will stop knocking,

Soon enough I will skulk away, back to the dark corner from which I came,

It must be so cold up where heaven soars; what must draw me back to hell is the warmth.

[fireyfobbitmedicine]

Frankie's First Day Out-

The Steins are more than happy to take their new daughter out for the first time- only they realize at the last minute that Frankie needed something to wear before they went out (clearly something more modest than that hospital gown she was brought to life in).

Fortunately Mrs Stein had a hundred years worth of fashion knowhow to help her daughter.

She loaned her dear child one of her own dresses, hurriedly hemming it to keep her from tripping over (plus this dress was borrowed so she'll want it back of course). And of course she needed to do something with her hair, and in Mrs Stein's experience big hair never goes out of style, so Frankie sports a large updo with her bangs down and parted to accentuate her perfect forehead and show off her beautiful eyes she got from her parents (they had plenty of spares anyway). Mrs Stein must've been a bit scattered brained at the moment because she nearly forgot to get shoes for the outfit, but fortunately she thought fast and grabbed an old pair of patchwork boots from deep within her closet that she knew would fit Frankie (she did make sure that they would share the same shoe size). And to top off the look she grabbed some pieces of her own jewelry from her jewelry box- wait did she mistook her sewing kit for it again? Oh well her daughter looks fabulous any way.

Just as she finished the look Mrs Stein briefly wonders if this look is too over the top- and so tosses on her husband's jacket to give it a more casual look.

Soon Mrs Stein takes her daughter down the stairs to see her husband nearly dead asleep from waiting for the two of them to finish up. When he came to Mr Stein burst into tears at the sight of Frankie, almost believing he slept for so long that it was already her wedding day. Frankie and her mother immediately comfort him, Mr Stein remarking that she was growing up so fast. The family merely laughed and finally left for the Maul, Frankie sure to turn heads when they arrived.

-

This is an idea I have for a collector doll of Frankie inspired by this passage from Frankie's diary

that's also a homage to Frankenstein's Monster and the Bride (also it's funny to imagine that she met Clawdeen and Draculaura for the first time in this extra outfit)

[dearestones]

Twisted Wonderland Matchup: Vil Schoenheit

@supergigabigboybabechad Request: Heyhi! Romantic twst matchup plspls!!

Im told i have strong aura with my appearance. I have dark hair at shoulders with bangs and hot pink dyed roots that streak to frame my face. Looks? Im a handsome girl! Im not exactly an extravert (lovealonetime) but id say ive nifty social skills. Definetly above average. I love fashion. i sew a lot and i get complements on my look! I love spoiling people best way to explain is examples my friend said she wishes a bakery sold macarons and i made her some another said she wanted leg warmers so i made her some! Personality wise im really cheeky i guess would be the way to describe it sassy and attitude are words i get. I love winning. I have a sharp tongue i think i have a creative way of thinking that translates into the way i speak. I love being there for people i feel like its my whole purpose. I do it as much for myself as i do for others. I like to think im smart and pick things up easily but maybe im just audacious. anecdote: i had weird interests and decided i wanted to do lock picking so i got this set for cheapsies and carried it everywhere. I literally only ever opened the practice lock those things come with but i showed off a whole bunch at school anyways.teacher overheard and asked mw to show her by opening a locked cabinet. I didnt wanna back down and embarrass myself so i just assumed i could do it.took me a good five minutes and i was shaking the whole time but yeah i was a whole show off and i still am confidence is key though right?

.

.

.

After going through the description given, I have determined that you are best paired with Vil Schoenheit! 

Vil appreciates your confidence in both your bold and daring personality and of course your physical appearance! The key to true beauty, he believes, is to embrace and know who you are from the inside out. Since you are confident in yourself, it is easy to see the beauty that is brimming from your very being. 

Furthermore, he appreciates your being a handsome girl. Some of the best parts about beauty is that there is no one or true way to view beauty, only that you are constantly improving and becoming your best self. If he may say so, he likes to believe that he is a beautiful boy—and as long as it’s not in mockery, he will fall to his knees if you call him such. (Please praise him, he loves hearing compliments from your pretty mouth).

An ambivert who is also quite social! That is a great boon in Vil’s book! As a social media influencer, it’s important that his image not be jeopardized by those who could inadvertently tarnish his good name. He has faith in you, of course, but he admires your personality and will give you your desired alone time if you so wish it. 

You sew and love fashion? Oh my, what a pair you two will make! Vil often keeps a spare sewing kit in his bag if he ever rips his uniform or if he spots one of his dorm residents missing a button. Despite that, however, he never has the time to create original sewing projects. Perhaps, if you’re willing, you can show him what you’re working on? Or maybe the both of you can have a small little date together where he memorizes his lines for his newest role while you work on your sewing! The image is such a lovely sight, please indulge him. 

Spoiling someone is always great as a reward. However, please don’t spoil his more… unrefined dorm residents. Some of them need to learn how to improve and embrace their inherent beauty. That said, feel free to spoil him, but not too much! A part of Vil believes that he needs to earn his way into success and reward. (Be sure to remind him that he doesn’t need to earn or work for your affection!)

Cheeky you say? Well now, you better watch your tongue… Vil knows how to give as good as he gets, especially since the media isn’t as pretty or as kind as some people make it out to be. If you do verbally spar with him or make your wit that much more apparent, he’ll gladly go to toe with you—he will not accept defeat that easily!

Creativity is also a wonderful boon, especially in the industry that Vil works in. Don’t be afraid to tell Vil what you're thinking about. Chances are he’ll like your ideas or even expand upon them to make them even better. 

If you ever see Vil feeling down or brooding about how he doesn’t seem to think that he’s on par with Neige, be there for him. He has support from his Vice Housewarden and a few other friends, but he’ll cherish your commitment to him and your being there for him cheers him up.

Your confidence always astounds! Once Vil hears your story about how you picked a lock at your teacher’s behest, he might scold you for not practicing on other locks so that you may be prepared. Nonetheless, he admits that confidence is a trait that not many people have, especially to the extent that you clearly exhibit. While you seem to be a bit too reckless at times, your inner beauty shines through and honestly, that’s why he loves you. 

Overall, the both of you bring out the best in each other. Vil may be overbearing at times and you may be a bit too bombastic and spontaneous for Vil’s tastes, the both of you get along pretty well and that’s what matters in the end.

.

.

.

If you want to donate a Ko-Fi, feel free https://ko-fi.com/devintrinidad.

TWISTED WONDERLAND MASTERLIST

[the-amazing-ms-menagerie]

Meet the gang

Part 4: Paisley,

If there's one member of my team with the drive and power to knock out an entire team, it's Paisley. Whether prince or pauper, whether thou be a butcher, baker, or candlestick maker, you're dead meat. I'm not even sure if he's packing any venom or this little guy is so powerful, fairy pokemon don't wanna stand back up, lest they enrage the gorey geck.

Nevertheless, Paisley has been with me since... oh boy, how long has it been? I guess it's been eight years, back when I was still figuring out who I was. You see, I was recently discouraged from studying psychology, as the eggshell walls and fluorescent lights played havoc with my head. So, I found myself outdoors. And the outdoors led me to an eccentric group.

I won't speak much on this group, as I don't want to draw attention to people who'd rather remain faceless, but it was a cosplay organisation. It was there, in the mild galarian sun, with goggles and a morning jacket, I met a lost little scraggy. Quite the curious fellow, he fashioned some galvantula silk into two suspenders, keeping the lad's trousers up whilst he voraciously ate a lollypop.

Upon asking around the site, I found out his name was Paisley, a scraggy that accompanies the group on their travels, fashioning odd outfits and vehemently recreating fight scenes... with surprising accuracy. In return, the little geck finds their home in the fellow cosplayer's houses and food from whatever the people can muster.

So, I found myself with this little cosplayer. Now, this was long before George, Hullabaloo, and Bjarki, so I had ample time to assist in the little guy's odd behaviour. One year, we went as a mad scientist (Paisley rather enjoyed the jacket) with their monstrous zombie (I still think I have some fake stitches on me), another a witch and their voodoo doll! After a while, we did a piers and scrafty costume, where Paisley agreed to be my second pokemon in my team (my first being an applin, who passed not long ago), and we were officially a trio.

Eventually, we realised something. I only made these costumes to intrigue others, to scare and amaze; and Paisley only did it for food and shelter. So, after finding amazement in the wild world, we left the group in hopes of becoming reptile experts.

Evolution never entered my mind, but one day, Paisley grew a magnificent crest as spiky as a togedemaru's behind and twice as deadly. As well as that, he gained a horrific defence mechanism; weaponised head-banging (a tool he still uses against tyranitars today). And so, the rest is history. Paisley is a bit quieter now, deciding to talk with his head than his sewing kit, but we still sew patches from time to time. Maybe someday I'll show you his battle jacket!

Somedays I think about those halycon days, playing dress up and telling stories. Personally, I don't think I ever gave that up, just put on a new coat of paint. I used to tell stories of Kings and Queens, nowi just tell stories of grafaiais and sandacondas. But oh well.

Scrafty w/ Covert Cloak

Ability: Intimidate

Max HP and Attack

Dragon Dance (previously head smash)

Drain Punch

Poison Jab

Crunch

And finally.

[resident-gay-uncle]

Aching Darling, Porcelain Heart

Tedious suffering, the job of those who love piercingly vulnerable breaths

Aching chests, blood, coagulate

Whoosh! Wooooaah!

“Look at you go!” Throwing down goblets of lust down the hatch

The hungry man does not pray over his passionate prey

And so we wait….

And wait….

And…

CRASH! BANG! POP!

Oh no! You’ve done it once again.

Loving before you checked if the feeling was enough

Poor doll, all bent up

Lay on his chest and tell the class what you feel!

Don’t stutter. No one likes a freak.

Peace is for idiots.

You are smarter than this.

He loves it sure, but never as much as you will

He lays barren in front of you

Calling you his lover

You choose to sit here, aloof

Crying out to know why peace isn’t comforting

The hungry man laughs at your ugly stature

Under a spell. In love.

Deliciously pathetic

When mother sews the dress, it is imperative you fit.

Fitting is the only way.

“Mind not the blood, aching darling.”

”Pain becomes quite comfortable in your mind if you know what you can soon forget.”

Forgetting….

Forgetting…

Forget..

What did Mother say again?

Closed mouths don’t get fed.

Speak up, lousy!

Exhaust every last effort to appease the god you didn’t willfully join

You owe it!

Look at you, on his chest once more.

Mother was right,

Pain is comfortable when is your only meal.

The hungry man has stolen part of this broken soul

Leaving a hole. Love and lust become mortar and brick.

Cracks are kisses.

He is perfect, just for me.

The fabricated reality is unraveling

Light speed and quick!

RUN! DON’T LET THEM CATCH YOU

THERE IS NO TIME TO ENJOY FEELING.

You can’t run, baby bird.

The wheels don’t stop after the bus has reached its stop.

It starts in the top of the breastplate

Lungs tingle, fire crackers

Healed memories.

Aorta pulsing adrenaline with reckless abandon

Arrow through the middle of the heart

Up, Up, UP! You’re beautiful and broken and just like me.

Pierce me with new feelings.

The Saturation of love is bittersweet for those who plan suffering in their

Calendar, dates, hands.

MEANINGLESS NOTIONS mean everything to me

Frown upon your fallen children

The lovers never prevail for residents

Lonely, longing, joyous flavors

Drive us up to our peak

And through us out into the Eve’

Dawning a sign, just near a tree

Population, you! Poor thing.

“Hush now. Work needs to be done.”

Vulnerability has made you soft.

Come along, Aching Darling

Poor, poor Porcelain Heart

[zealous-crow]

The First Hookup Pt. 1

Author's Note: I'm attempting to write a smut scene because why not??? But it's NOT EASY. I have a huge appreciation for smut writers that are good at what they do. So you may or may not see a smutty part 2 to this fic lmao

It had been several weeks since their breakup and Zahar had not taken it well. While he still created new designs to stay on top of the seasons’ competition, it wasn’t in the same vein his company was used to. The outfits seemed to become darker, moodier, and hey, no one complained. It was a good look for winter, but many of Bista’s closest companions were worried about the man. 

Zahar currently occupied the space within his newly acquired apartment as far away from Vale’s as possible. While it wasn’t as large, it was just as beautiful. Floor to ceiling length windows lined the exterior wall with a balcony; a perfect view of the city outside. Fabrics and mock designs were strewn about the living room haphazardly. Vale was always the tidy one out of the two. Something Zahar was easily reminded of anytime he worked or looked around his environment. 

A sigh left the man’s lips as he began to pick up after himself. It was roughly around 1:00 am and it was time for Zahar to stop working for the day. Night? 

“At what point does time even matter anymore…” He sighed again. 

Zahar was mostly done cleaning up the scrap fabrics when a knock sounded through the living room causing him to freeze in his spot. Too close to the door for comfort at this time of night. Luckily, Vale’s work left some training on Zahar, who picked up the sewing shears on the end table and approached the door cautiously. As he slowly shuffled towards the front door, a louder, more prominent bang hit the door. 

“Fuck…this was supposed to be a safe portion of the city. All my friends recommended it.”

Zahar peered through the peephole and instantly felt a sense of relief flood through his body. It was Vale on the other side, though his body was mainly obscured from how he hunched over. The maroon haired male unlocked the door and opened it a crack before Vale fell into the entryway. Zahar quickly closed the door after him, locking and double checking his door for personal comfort.

“Vale, what the fuck? Do you know what time it is? What the fuck are you doing here anyway.” Zahar seethed out quietly, not wanting to disturb his neighbours already more than Vale did with his knocking.

The first thing Zahar noticed was Vale’s lack of words and how he stayed crumpled on the floor in front of him. Usually Vale always had something snarky to say to Zahar, but he was oddly quiet. Next thing to be noticed was the long, pained groan Vale finally let out after shifting his position to reveal a wound on his torso, bleeding into the suit he wore. 

“Oh shit! Hold on, lemme find something real quick.” Zahar scrambled from his spot at Vale’s body to the bathroom down the hall where he knew a first aid kit was. Not sure if he’d have the right equipment for this kind of injury, Zahar just hoped it would make do. When he came back, Vale had managed to crawl from the spot on the floor to a seated position on Zahar’s couch. He breathed heavily, clearly in pain, yet trying to hold himself together. There was a bloody circle forming around Vale’s abdomen.

“Can you say something? You’re really freaking me out here Vale.”

“It hurts like a bitch…but I fuckin’ got ‘em.”

Zahar rolled his eyes and gripped the kit a little tighter in his hand. Of course Vale got hurt on the job. Again. And again. This was always the part he hated seeing most. 

“Will you take your jacket and shirt off? I need to see the wound before I can help you, you idiot.” Vale lifted his arms slowly to undo his jacket buttons, then the same with his shirt, and discarded both of them to the floor in a pile. 

“Is it bad, doctor?” Vale coughed out a small laugh. Of course he’d still try to joke at a time like this. In a place like this. Zahar ignored his comment, instead focusing on looking at the wound in front of him. Luckily for Vale, it seemed mostly superficial, but it was lengthy and sure to leave another scar across his body. The first aid kit was opened and a bottle of antiseptic was poured onto a cotton ball. 

“This might hurt,” was all the warning Vale got before the fluid was applied to his cut. Was Zahar a little rougher than necessary? Maybe. Did Vale deserve it? Absolutely. 

“You did that on purpose, dove.” 

“Don’t call me that.”

“Sorry…” was muttered before silence overtook the two men. Zahar dressed the wound and quickly stood up to return the kit to the bathroom. While he was in there, he failed to hear his former lover walk down the hall and approach him from behind. Vale wrapped his arms around Zahar’s hips and rested his head on the back of his neck. 

For the second time this night, Zahar was frozen in his spot. This time, he was slower to react. Vale kissed the back of Zahar’s neck before mumbling out, “I miss you.” Zahar, shaken out of his stupor, was quick to respond. He turns in Vale’s embrace to push him away. 

“No. No! You don’t get to say that to me. Not after the choice YOU made. You’re the one who pushed me away and now you’ve come crawling back? You’re pathetic.” There’s a flame in Zahar’s eyes. Was it rage? Sorrow? A combination of the two? He couldn’t tell, himself. Vale just dropped his head, hiding his eyes from the pink ones of his ex.

“I made a mistake, Zahar. Please.” 

“Mistakes have consequences, Vale. You should know that better than anyone else.” Zahar spits out. The vitriol in his voice hurts Vale more than his current wound ever could. 

“Zahar. Of all the mistakes I’ve made, leavin’ you was my greatest sin. One that weighs the heaviest on my shoulders. Not a night goes by without me dreaming of you.” Vale descends to his knees, reaching out for one of Zahar’s hands. Surprisingly, Zahar lets him take one. Vale threads his fingers into the other’s. 

“How’d you find me? I never told you where I went after…well, after that night.”

“I have my ways. You should know that by now. It’s also not hard considering who you hang around. Most of you designer types stick together.” Zahar sighs. He should have known his living situation wasn’t private. Not from Vale and his ever present gaze. 

“I can’t trust you Vale…I’m sorry. Not after everything that happened. I…I miss you so much, but I just can’t.” Zahar looks down into Vale’s eyes and, just like the first time he was confessed to, looks for hidden motives within those orbs. He finds nothing but disappointment, pain, and something he can’t quite name. 

“At least let me love you one more time.” Vale states rather forwardly. It surprises Zahar. Vale’s available hand goes to rest on Zahar’s waist, not going any further, waiting for permission. 

“But your wound. You’re still hurt and it’s rather late.” Zahar was desperate to avoid giving the other man a direct answer. He wanted to stand strong and not let Vale’s presence overtake him like it usually did. Like it’s been doing since he showed up. 

“Wouldn’t be the first time, dove.” Vale smiles sweetly up at his past love. “I appreciate the concern but it’s not as bad as it appeared. Besides, Dr. Bista fixed me right up.”

God, Zahar is weak. He can feel his head swimming with Vale. Swimming with imaginations of what could happen, what Vale is capable of doing to him. 

“It would mean nothing…”

“That’s fine, my dove. I can handle that.” But could Zahar? Could he handle a night with his ex and recover from that in the morning? Fuck it, might as well see.

“Fine.”

“Thank you, dove.” 

[f10werfae]

Designer Love

Pairing: Husband! Chris Evans x Pregnant! Reader

Word count: 833

Summary: Y/n can’t find any darn clothes she loves, so Chris takes his role to the next level

Warnings: None?

————-

Requests are open!

Likes, Comments and Re-blogs are appreciated♥️

—————

(Y/n's P.O.V)

“This sucks, the clothes I’ve wanted for ages are not in my size, and they’re not restocking”

I huffed, scrolling down on the website. Sure they’re just clothes, but it’s so hard to find nice maternity clothes.

“What’s wrong honey?” Chris asked walking in from the bathroom, shirtless with sweatpants, his hands on his hips.

“N-nothing fits me and the clothes I want don’t have my size anymore” I stuttered, my hormones playing with my emotions again, tears building up for the seventh time this morning.

“Honey I think your summer maternity dresses are wonderful on you” He said smiling, a hint of a playful smirk on his lips

“You’re only saying that because it means you can take me anywhere” I laughed in between tears, remembering how we’ve basically christened every surface in our new house, Chris had taken a leave from acting for the foreseeable future. He had done enough projects in one year to earn him a long time off, time we’ve been spending well I say.

“Not only that, I just think you’re so beautiful, keep in mind you’re growing a life in this precious body of yours” With a finger poking into my stomach playfully, he nuzzled into my neck pressing kisses feverishly.

“Stop it and let me sleep, your son needs some nap time”

“Alright baby i’ll leave you to it”

“You not gonna join?”

“Unless you want my snores then-“

“Yeah okay enough said handsome, night night”

“Okay bub i’ll wake you up for dinner”

(1 week later)

“Chris what’s in this massive box?” I asked inspecting the massive amazon box, taking up a lot of our coffee table.

“Just something for my gym babe, nothing to worry your pretty little head about” He shouted from the kitchen, walking into the living room and picking up the box, walking towards the makeshift gym in our basement.

Not thinking anymore about it , I just headed into the kitchen to stuff myself up with more blueberry pancakes, made by yours truly.

“Hey babe, you don’t mind if I go over to Ma's today right? She needs me to paint her walls”

“Can I come Chrissy?”

“Babe you know how I feel about paint fumes, especially when you’re pregnant. I do happen to know though that a certain person called Scott wants to go baby shopping”

“Don’t have to tell me twice hun, let’s get me changed”

(3 hours later)

(Chris' P.O.V)

“Ma how do I work this thing” I asked banging the top of the sewing machine I ordered from amazon, stress evident on my face.

“Press the button to start, hold this part and pull the fabric up slowly” Ma said demonstrating it before passing it back over to me, a smile on her face.

“I’m proud of you son”

“Yeah?”

“You’re sitting here learning how to use this machine so you can literally make your wife clothes, that’s a husband if I know one”

“Thanks ma, it just breaks my heart to see herself so upset over it, because to me she’s genuinely so beautiful and she just doesn’t get it”

“Well you keep working at it son- Oh here she is now calling me”

“Ma if she asks i’m painting walls”

“Heard loud and clear”

(3 weeks later)

(Y/n's P.O.V)

“Bub can you come in here please”

“Coming” I called out waddling into the bedroom, Chris standing there with a big smile on his face, a box in his hand.

“What you got there hun, not another snake is it”

“Not this time babe , no. Jus open it would ya?”

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, I pulled the box over and took the top off. Seeing exact replicas of the clothes I wanted from the site, reaching for the label on one of the tops I see my size gleaming at me.

“H-how? I thought the site said they were out of stock?”

“I know, I made them”

“YOU MADE THESE?!”

“Damn right I did, look at these needle pokes” He proudly showed off his thumbs, both covered in bandages.

“I love them” I pouted, hugging the fabric close to my chest, my heart swelling with love and pride.

“Hey hey I made those so you wouldn’t cry again”

“I can’t help it baby, i just- you love me so much”

“Damn right I do, or else I wouldn’t have knocked you up” Chris said laughing, his arms coming round me to bring me in for a hug, my head on his chest.

“you are so vulgar sometimes” I sniffed out

“So what’s the verdict Mrs.Evans”

“Yeah you’re getting lucky tonight”

(Bonus Scene)

“What do ya think” I asked trying on the jeans and cute crop top that Chris made

*snap* "Hey no pictures"

"I cant help it bunny, you look so cute n sexy"

"Don't push it, I already said you're getting lucky tonight"

"Two rounds?" Chris quirked up a brow

"Yeah, if you can keep up"

[rabbiteclair]

okay let's try this again, this time with my brain plugged in

overall, story-wise I admire the devs' efficiency of storytelling in introducing new groups of characters, giving you a peek at the relationship dynamics between them and what makes them interesting, and then immediately proceeding to 'and now it's time for you to kill them, because you are running an RPG dungeon for hapless adventurers to dive into.' Several groups here feel like they could be the protagonists of a shorter game in their own right. sorry I killed you guys but you know how it is.

Mechanically... not gonna get too deep into the game's overall systems at this point, but I think they did a pretty solid job of making each new story encounter an interesting challenge with something new to deal with. Once I sorted out the whole 'you don't have enough good key pages to outfit the entire library, you've gotta shuffle them around a lot or you're playing on hard mode' thing, nothing has felt ridiculously hard when I first unlocked it, but very few fights have felt all that easy either. (The 'nothing has felt ridiculously hard' part may change soon though, because somebody thought it was a good idea to fight the Red Mist again. goddamn it Angela, I just did that last game. At least dig up the Backward Clock for me to fall back on if you're gonna pull this shit.)

I'm not gonna go into every single reception, but hitting some of the highlights...

Streetlight: Probably the first group I felt really bad about murdering? Sorry Lulu. (Okay these early ones are gonna be kind of short, lbr they have a lot less going on than later stuff.)

Zwei: Whoops felt bad again. This time it was ameliorated by getting Walter's key page and going 'wait you're gonna just... let me do that? Is this actually okay?'

Carnival: is the point that made me stop and go 'oh man these devs know how to do some weird transhumanism stuff,' and that basically doesn't let up for the rest of the game. On the other hand this is also the point where I kinda sighed and started finding all the endless industrial uses for dead humans a bit on-the-nose.

Dawn: well I can see no way that killing these guys could go poorly, not like one of them will have a days/weeks-long breakdown and turn into a swarm of flaming cherubs that kill tens of thousands of people or something haha. Yuna deserved more/cooler mechanics. Solo Fixer who carries her gear around in a guitar case or something and shows up like 'hey I just beat up some crazy stuff by myself.' make Yuna cooler you cowards.

Gaze: Gaze Office is cool as hell. I love them. Love their fucking C memory management joke names. (Which are apparently also Korean puns or something.) Love their weird rainbow camera heads. Too bad that they're kinda mechanically trash. They were one of the easiest fights for me, and I've never found much use for... anything they do, really.

Kurokumo: thus begins the era of Slashing Builds. this era has not yet actually ended for me.

Bremen: I actually felt a bit bad for these guys too. I mean sure they're murderers but they seem so earnest about it, and they did get their heads messed with by supernatural forces. But also why didn't you losers give me blunt power abilities. You should really take after Sayo more. I'm sure she's a fine role model.

Love Town: [banging pots and pans together] LOVE TOWN LOVE TOWN LOVE TOWN. listen the entire story here is so absurdly horrible and over the top that it's almost funny, but I feel like if you're gonna get invested in these games you've gotta be capable of looking at 'so they all spent millennia locked in a train and unable to die until the few who still retained some of their sanity sewed their bodies together into Flesh Amalgam Creatures to fight off their zombified comrades' and pumping your fist instead of pointing out that that all seems like a bit much. Tomerry was an interesting fight but at the same time, never wanna do that again. Some of my well-meaning friends warned me to gird my stomach for this section, unaware of just how much body horror media I've consumed over the years.

Sweepers: On one hand? I kinda came out of this liking the Sweepers themselves, despite everything. Aw, they're just a big happy family, makin' their way in the world. just, Their Way just happens to involve a lot of meathooks and, uh, liquefying people to make special goo or something? On the other hand fuck this fight. Even now that I've beaten it several times, I still hate it. This begins the pattern of 'nothing that is happening here, mechanically, is moral or just.'

Shi: okay look I don't have much to say about Shi itself. this is a basically-unrelated sidebar. You know how Yujin's key page gives you that broken speed die? I am cursed so that every single big attack targets it, and always with a really high speed so I can't intercept. A boss has some once-per-fight attack that's like '8-21 damage, on hit: stagger the target, apply 5 Fragile next round'? it's gonna target Yujin's broken die, with a speed of like 6-7, every single time. My friends assure me that this isn't intentional and I'm just very unlucky, but I'm this close to retiring the page and ripping the good parts off to use elsewhere. I've seriously lost four or five big fights over Yujin suddenly getting ripped in half three rounds in, or getting smacked with a 'if this hits anybody you automatically lose the fight' attack, with no ability to defend.

8 o'clock Circus: fuck this fight. Oswald isn't in it, but I appreciate his whole deal though. Like, he's not a good guy. I'm not even sure I like him. But it takes some skill to be an interesting fucked up clown in 2023, and he manages it.

Smiling Faces: I love how even after you read their books, there's no real explanation of what their deal is. at this point the game's just like 'look, they're weird old folks who chop people up or something and like to take fat bong rips, you can probably name a dozen explanations for all of this at this point.' The fight itself is an absolute pain thanks to Deep Drag, but your reward is... being able to hit enemies with Deep Drag. I don't like smoke builds as much as most people, it seems, but I'll concede that when they do work they're great. And, I mean, I still put a smoker on most teams up until fairly recently.

Crying Children: sometimes a fight is just too fucking long. I'm sorry Phil "the big sad baby" McFixer, but if you want me to get invested in your personal character arc you've gotta limit your boss fight to like five phases tops. (Angela is exempt from this of course.)

WARP Crew: see the Love Town bullet above, but also I felt pretty bad about killing these guys too. Sorry Lesti. Also I find it very funny that part of the reason behind the VIP seats is to make sure that anybody with really expensive combat augs is not waiting for them inside the train after spending about two millennia losing their goddamn mind.

Blue Reverb/Church of Gears: I really expected this fight to be harder but let's be real I haven't seen the last of this asshole.

Cane: I'm just here for Nemo, babey.

R Corp: hhhhh. For one thing, this fight is a fucking slog, and it opens up with possibly the hardest act of its three. For another, you're gonna make me kill Myo? Really? On the upside: Rabbit-based titles for everyone. I haven't beaten this reception yet since I only tried it once so far and went in unprepared for some of the tomfoolery, but I still got within about two hits of winning, so I'm confident I'll get it next time.

Night Awls/Udjat/Kim/Dong-hwan: yesssss give me your stuff. I could've gone without having to fight the Udjat though.

[serenedash]

HOW did you make your Baldr cosplay. You've inspired me to wanna try and make one too, got any tips on doing it?

aaaaaa I feel so honored I inspired you!!!! ;0; my disclaimer is that I am the farthest thing from a professional lol, but I will show you how I did it! My cosplay philosophy is that I am lazy and want to spend as little money as possible ⭐ I always use clothes I already own, the base outfit I already owned I only needed to get the belts, hoodie and wig

This is long I'm so sorry I just went thru the whole process :')

Here is every part of the finished cosplay:

Boots

Black jeans

Pants chain (mine is just an old one from hot topic)

Blue belts x2 (got these on Amazon, $10 USD each)

Black shirt + vest (or you can do one black button down, in canon Baldr looks like he's wearing a black vest over a white shirt but I felt like my vest was too low it would've looked weird)

Black fingerless gloves

Hoodie (Amazon, $18 USD) + tassel (Joann's Fabrics $10 USD)

Mark of mastery by MadeByFjori on Etsy ($6 USD) I bought it unpainted to save money and just got some metallic gold paint :) its really good quality and shipped fast! I had taped a safety pin on the back of it to attach it to the hoodie (I had tried super gluing it but it mf broke off!!! Tape it is,)

Wig (mine is the Skyelar classic in silver from Arda Wigs!) If you have no experience styling wigs that's fine since Baldr's hair is so choppy that if you fuck it up it works LOL I always style my wigs while wearing them thats just me, I brushed the hair in front of my face and cut the bangs around the bottom of my eyes and went from there. I also cut part of the sides framing my face

If you have dark hair like me I recommend a skin colored wig cap!!! Dark hair spilling out from a white wig will look weird, they sell them kn the Arda Wigs site

Optional: Starlight keyblade from Spirit Halloween ($40 USD) it's solid plastic, lightweight and looks amazing! The only bad thing I've found is the keychain just. Is not durable. Last year it broke off at a convention and I lost it 😔

Optional: face mask by KumalatteCreations on Etsy ($16 USD) I wear it with all my KH cosplays lol I have 2 masks for cosplay from them, really great quality, fit and has a place to insert a filter. I have the OSFA teen/women size because my face is tiny :')

Okay but let's talk real shit: the Hoodie. It's a plain white sweatshirt from Amazon, size up to get that oversized look Baldr has. Also disclaimer: do NOT get a thick hoodie I tried my best to get a light weight one and oh my god. For something that is essentially Just Sleeves I was SWEATING TO DEATH okay anyway materials:

Hoodie base

Gold fabric (I bought 1 yard and had more than enough)

Black buttons x2

Black ribbon

Tassel

Fabric scissors, fabric glue, needle/thread, safety pins

Black and orange markers

If you get a hoodie like mine where the hood strings have metal around the edges, use white paint or white out (I did not have time to buy white paint,) to paint over the metal so its not distracting

Now the How To:

Pull out your hood strings if applicable, paint any metal like I mentioned above

Use fabric glue to add black ribbon around the sleeves, do this in sections not all at once, do the ends of the ribbon around the back of your armpit to hide the ends. On my hoodie there was a hem on the sleeves that I followed so it was easy to make it even on both sides

Crop sweatshirt in half and cut down the middle front but DO NOT go all the way to the top where the hood is, stop about 2 inches away from it otherwise you will be me having to sew that shit back together

Measure where you want the front to fold open, you will probably have to cut more off of the sweatshirt bc if its too big you will be pinning that shit onto the top of your shoulders, basically shorter in the front and longer in the back (I know mine is so messy I didn't measure I just guessed I know wtf @ me-)

Flip hoodie inside-out and add gold fabric to the inside of the hoodie, leave about half an inch room around the edge for hemming, yes the entire inside too, I found that when I moved around I could see the back of the inside and it looks weird when the gold fabric suddenly stops

If you have a sewing machine or want to do this by hand then fold over the edges and hem it on top of the gold (not me tho I was con crunching and glued that shit all the way around,) it cleans up the edges and adds the white border to the part you will pin open

What I WANTED to do was to sew the buttons onto the hoodie and add button holes on what would get pinned but I did not have the time so I sewed the buttons directly onto the front pieces so when I fold it open I used 2 safety pins on each side to hold it up

For the tassel: I colored it with a peachy/light orange sharpie and a black one. I measured how long I wanted it to be and cut the other end off and used fabric glue on the end to stop fraying. I wrap it around the buttons and do a simple loop knot to keep it in place

if you end up doing what I did irt the tassel, don't go in with a regular orange marker bc it came out so dark on the fabric its made of like I just happened to have this peach/skin tone sharpie that came out the right shade on the gold fabric

Finally, pin the mark of mastery in place!

Now you are Baldr :)

[contemplativepancakes]

sex pollen, written for @whataboutthebard

Dandelion/Aiden, E

cw: inherent dub con because of sex pollen but everyone has given the consent they're able to give

Dandelion and Zoltan look up in alarm when the inn door bangs open. The noise is typically accompanied by a witch hunter demanding information about whatever nonhuman they happen to be looking for that day, but this time, it’s a witcher. Aiden, Dandelion thinks, vaguely remembering Lambert introducing the two of them at some point.

His armor is in a state of disarray, buckles undone, and his eyes are black with toxicity, black veins creeping through his face and down his neck, disappearing beneath his undershirt. “Can I help you?” Dandelion asks mildly.

“I need,” he pants, “Fuck. This is a whore house, right? I just need someone.”

Dandelion scowls. “I’ll have you know this is a reputable establishment.”

He thinks back to some of the situations he’s seen Geralt in before he softens. “I—are you in distress?”

Aiden makes a frustrated noise in the back of his throat, gesturing down to his crotch, where there’s a prominent bulge. Oh. Dandelion looks around and sees all of his customers staring at them, so he ushers Aiden upstairs, his mind racing at the possibilities of how Aiden got himself into such a predicament.

Aiden must sense his curiosity, because he mumbles, “Weird ass sewer monsters and their fucking powder they spew everywhere.”

Yes, Dandelion sees where this is going. He opens the door to an unoccupied room for Aiden and gestures him inside. “You know, I’m always willing to help out any witchers in need.”`

Aiden waves him off. “If you don’t have anyone, I’ll be fine. The room is enough. At least I won’t have to do this in some alley somewhere,” he says, seeming like it takes a great deal of concentration out of him.

Dandelion shuts his eyes at the mental image that provides, Aiden with his pants shoved just below his cock, frantically jerking off on some street somewhere, uncaring of who might see him. It’s certainly...a nice thought.

“I really don’t mind,” Dandelion reassures him.

By now, Aiden’s palming himself through his pants. He bites his lips as he looks at Dandelion. Black eyed and lithe muscled, he’s a sight, and Dandelion has no issues staring right back. Aiden lunges forward at him, and Dandelion’s back thuds against the door as Aiden tries to devour him. The kiss can barely be called that, more a sloppy meeting of mouths that has Aiden grinding against him immediately, panting in desperation.

His cock is hot even through his pants, and Dandelion reaches down to grope at him. Aiden moans in his ear, loud and unabashed. He unlaces his pants and drags Dandelion’s hand farther up so that he can reach inside. Aiden shudders when skin meets skin. It's amazing how wet Aiden’s smalls already are, soaked with precome.

“How did you even make it here?” Dandelion wonders, but Aiden doesn’t hear him, or just doesn't respond, too busy touching every exposed part of Dandelion.

Aiden's long neck is on display, so Dandelion leans forward to lathe kisses up it, landing on the bolt of Aiden’s jaw before he licks back into his mouth. A pleased groan comes from Aiden’s throat, and he tugs Dandelion to the bed, pushing him down before crawling on top of him.

Dandelion’s not sure he’s ever had this kind of single minded focus directed at him before, and it’s hard not to be overwhelmed at all the sensations as Aiden grinds against him and licks and fondles everything he can reach. He’s sadly not 20 anymore, but he can still help Aiden as best he can. And if he gets something out of the deal, too, well. No one said he couldn’t.

Aiden pauses for a moment to shed his clothes, faster than Dandelion would have thought possible, before reaching down for him and tugging his trousers off. Aiden pops a button of his doublet in his haste to get it off of Dandelion, and he makes a mental note to make him sew it back on later.

Their cocks slide against each other, making Aiden moan at the contact. Dandelion reaches down to smooth some of Aiden’s copious precome down his length as well, taking them both in hand and stroking. Aiden’s cock pulses alongside his own, hot and smooth. He trails his thumb over the top of Aiden’s cock, making sure to rub just above his glans. He’s surprised when Aiden comes with a groan, spurting over Dandelion’s hand. Before Aiden gets too sensitive he pulls away, but Aiden drags his hand back. “It’s going to take a couple times,” he says, grimacing.

Sure enough, he’s still hard, and Dandelion watches in fascination as his cock starts to purple at the tip. “Touch yourself,” Dandelion says as he gets up to retrieve the oil that he keeps under the bed in every room.

What? He’s nothing if not a generous lover.

He slicks his fingers as he watches Aiden jack himself at lightning speed, his hand flying up and down his shaft while his face contorts between pleasure and pain. Dandelion reaches behind himself as he enjoys the show, stretching himself to take Aiden’s cock without too much of a burn. There’s only a small amount of spend as Aiden comes this time, before Dandelion walks back over to him to replace Aiden’s hand with his own. “How do you want me?” he asks.

“On your knees?” Aiden suggests.

Dandelion nods eagerly, moving onto the bed. He spreads his knees apart and leans his chest down onto the bed, burying his face into the mattress. Aiden moves around behind him, reaching down to take Dandelion’s cock in hand for a moment. When Dandelion keens and starts rolling his hips, Aiden takes his touch away and lines up his cock with Dandelion’s hole, slowly pressing in. They both moan, and Dandelion cants his ass back towards Aiden, encouraging him to go faster. Aiden pauses for a moment when his thighs meet Dandelion’s ass, before he pulls out and slams back in, creating a relentless pace. One of Dandelion’s hands bracing him flies up to the headboard, holding on for dear life.

Aiden is all breathy gasps and moans behind him, and Dandelion can’t help but cry out when Aiden brushes past his prostate. His hands grip Dandelion’s hips so tightly he wonders if there’s going to be thumb shaped bruises there tomorrow. Not that he’d mind.

“Ah, fuck, right there,” Dandelion hisses as Aiden hits that spot again, and again and again.

Aiden reaches around to stroke him in time with his thrusts, erratic as Aiden gets closer to his peak. Pressure builds up in Dandelion’s cock, his balls tightening until he releases all over the bedspread. Shit, he’s not looking forward to doing laundry later.

The sound of their skin slapping together fills the room as Aiden continues to slam into him, chasing his pleasure as Dandelion just tries to hold himself up and not go completely limp under Aiden. Aiden thrusts into him one final time before he stutters, his cock spasming as he cries out. There’s no familiar warmth at Aiden spilling inside of him, and Dandelion realizes he must be milked just about completely dry. Aiden pulls out. The bed shakes as Dandelion rolls over and collapses onto it, relief and just a smidge of disappointment filling him as he sees Aiden’s cock finally deflated. Aiden lays down next to him, his chest heaving. “Fuck,” he pants.

His scars are prominent like this, so Dandelion takes a moment to study them, running his fingers over them curiously. He hopes he’ll get to learn what they’re all from. Where else is he going to get inspiration from for his ballads?

Looking farther up, he sees Aiden’s eyes are shut, and his breathing is starting to even out. He cracks one open to peer at Dandelion. “Thanks,” he murmurs. “That wouldn’t have been nearly so pleasant without you.”

Dandelion grins back. “Like I said. Anything to help a witcher.”

[hartigays]

rafebarry prompt: not canon compliant but rafe and barry are trying to get away from ward but barry gets hurt so rafe begs sarah + pouges (not on good terms w each other) to help them escape bc he loves barry<33

just a little something i thought about! totally up to you on how this all goes down if you decide to write it, anything you write is amazing !!

this was a stupid fucking idea. stupid, stupid, stupid. rafe knew from the beginning, he should’ve never agreed to this.

there aren’t many things that he and barry don’t agree on, surprisingly. even if they start off disagreeing about something, they generally always end up on the same page. but this plan had been something they’d gone back and forth on, never settling on a definitive decision.

in the end, barry had simply manhandled rafe over to the place he’d formerly called home - before ward booted his ass out - and waltzed them through the front door like they owned the place.

all to steal from ward, to get more money for coke and groceries (re: booze and hot pockets) and whatever other fleeting indulgences they could think of.

rafe had disagreed with this plan throughout its development and execution, not wanting to cross the one and only person in the entire world who scares him: ward cameron. and he’d been right to, because now barry is gasping for air, holding his side while blood spills from between his fingers.

they’re racing through the woods, trying to get as far away from ward’s long-range hunting rifle as they can.

rafe doesn’t know if ward knew he was barry’s companion in this little venture. he’d insisted they wear bandanas over their faces, but rafe is pretty sure ward would know his son in a heartbeat regardless.

he doesn’t even want to think about it. about the fact that ward shot barry, or that he probably would’ve shot rafe too if rafe hadn’t had the presence of mind to shove both barry and himself out of the nearest window, plunging into the bushes below before ward could get off another shot.

another shot on the person he more than likely knew to be his son.

ward had continued taking shots as rafe dragged barry across the yard and into the treeline, disappearing from view.

now, they’re back at the main road, barry collapsing against a tree as he clenches his hand around the wound in his side.

“let me see,” rafe demands, kneeling down and peeling up barry’s shirt despite barry shaking his head.

“ain’t got time, country club,” barry wheezes, trying to push rafe back so he’ll stand up and keep moving.

rafe doesn’t budge, just swipes at the blood with his shirt sleeve to get a better look at the wound. the bullet just grazed him, but it’s enough to warrant stitches at the very least.

“you’re not going to make it to the emergency room like this,” rafe comments absentmindedly, pulling out his phone a firing off a text to topper letting him know he’s going to need to borrow his car.

barry manages to push rafe back an inch this time, shaking his head furiously. “ain’t no way i’m goin’ to no damn hospital. i ain’t got insurance and your daddy done cut you off months ago. how you gonna pay for my little siesta in the ER with them empty pockets?”

and okay, he has a point. rafe will admit that. not to mention, ward has people all over the OBX, and if he sends out word about looking for his son, they’ll surely be caught if they’re trapped in the emergency room.

there’s only one other place rafe can think to go. one place where ward won’t know to look, one place where barry can get some medical help without having to shell out a fortune.

rafe may have to grovel a bit (or a lot), but he’ll do it. damn it, he’ll fucking do it because barry is going to bleed out if he doesn’t and that would really fucking suck because rafe was just starting to sort of like him.

he must’ve said that last part out loud, because barry manages to glare at him and say, “quit that shit. we been dating for a year, dickhead.”

then barry sort of slumps to the side, and rafe has to all but carry him to topper’s place.

rafe has just gotten the keys topper keeps in the cupholder into the ignition when he looks at his phone, seeing a text from top.

can’t let u borrow the car tonight, have a thing in the morning. srry bud.

rafe glances over at barry, who’s blacked out in the passenger’s seat, fresh blood still seeping out of his shirt.

“sorry about this, top,” rafe says to himself, turning the key and hearing the engine roar to life. “i’ll get you back later.”

he peels out of the driveway, speeding down the familiar streets until they become more and more unfamiliar, figure eight bleeding into the cut.

he zooms past more and more unfamiliar houses, searching for the only one he knows, starting to feel hopeless, starting to really worry that barry might actually die in the passenger’s seat of his car.

or topper’s car, rather. it’d be super annoying to have to apologize for that on top of having to apologize for stealing it in the first place, to be honest.

then suddenly, rafe is idling outside a house that is both familiar and unfamiliar. the few times he’s been here before, he’d been fucked up beyond belief and fueled by violent anger. it seems almost foreign to him now, while he’s sober as a judge (only due to his current circumstances, mind you) and fueled by nothing but pure adrenaline.

rafe practically drags barry to the house. there are all sorts of lights on, both inside and out, and rafe can hear the sounds of music and laughter drifting out from an open window nearby.

he only hesitates for a moment before circling around the house and banging on the door.

john b answers the door with a smile, a small wad of cash in his hand, clearly expecting some sort of food delivery. his smile fades instantly when he realizes it’s not his pizza or what the fuck ever, and is in fact rafe cameron and a half-dead barry.

“no,” is all john b says before trying to shut the door. rafe kicks his leg out, foot jamming between the door and the frame, preventing john b from closing it.

“fuck off, rafe,” john b grunts as he tries to shut the door. rafe can hear concerned voices from inside the house. “you’re not dragging us into whatever shit this is! literally fuck. off.”

“sarah!” rafe shouts, ignoring john b’s protests. “sarah!”

footsteps, and then sarah is pushing john b out of the way gently, looking at rafe in confusion, then at barry in horror.

“rafe? oh my god, what happened?”

sarah ushers them into the house, and rafe is literally dragging barry at this point. still, no one helps him get barry onto the couch. he manages regardless, but he’s panting when it’s all said and done, sliding down onto the floor with a grunt.

“i need you to help him,” rafe says, and he’s looking at pope, who’s seated in the corner beside jj, a guitar that he’s no longer strumming still sitting in his lap.

but john b is the one to answer, shaking his head. “no. besides, we can’t even help him. we don���t know how to do shit like that.”

“he does,” rafe says, still looking at pope, who’s now looking at barry thoughtfully.

“what?” kie laughs, looking bewildered. “pope may be smart, yeah, but he doesn’t have a medical degree. this guy needs a doctor.”

“i know how,” pope sighs, and rafe suppresses a smug smile. “i volunteered at the hospital last summer, remember?”

“and you knew this how?” john b asks rafe, accusatory.

“he was on my rounds once,” pope says calmly, leveling rafe with an unreadable look. “alcohol poisoning and a drug overdose all in one night.”

rafe fights the urge to look away, choosing instead to shrug nonchalantly.

“just another night in the cut, right?” rafe asks, arching one brow. “look, we can dredge up my poor life choices later, if it’ll make you all feel better and get your fucking panties out of a wad. but right now he needs help, so are you going to give him that or are you going to let him bleed out on your ugly ass couch?”

“i say let him bleed out,” john b snaps, clearly irked by rafe’s demands and insults.

rafe wants to knock the guy’s teeth down his throat, but he just breathes steadily through his nose. just like barry has been teaching him. “we can’t go to a hospital. no insurance, and ward’s hunting us down as we speak. so do i want to fucking be here? no. but i have to, so name your fucking price and we’ll pay it.”

“besides,” rafe continues, turning his eyes to sarah, challenging her, “you’re not just going to let someone die, are you?”

sarah narrows her eyes, hands perched on her hips. “no, that’s more your style, isn’t it?” then, she looks at pope. “come on, help him. he isn’t dying on john b’s couch. that’s way too creepy for me to deal with right now.”

pope nods and disappears from the room as sarah and john b bicker quietly. kie and jj glare daggers at rafe, while also eyeing barry, lying on the couch looking far more dead than alive.

when pope reappears, he has a first aid kit in one hand and a sewing kit in the other. he shoos rafe out of the way. rafe just scoots a little further to the left to give pope room, but stays close to barry.

“rafe, we need to talk,” sarah says after a moment. “outside?”

rafe shakes his head. “not until i know he’s okay.”

the room falls silent, and rafe looks around, glaring. “what, it’s illegal to care about people now? fuck off.”

“so do you want us to like… give you a room, or something? maybe some champagne and rose petals? we could get some ambient beats going, really set the mood, you know- ”

kie throws a pillow at jj, effectively shutting him up. “gross, jj. don’t put that image into my head.”

“look, whatever,” sarah interrupts, rolling her eyes. “but once he’s patched up, we’re having a conversation.”

rafe puts his hands up in mock surrender. “your house, your rules.”

he’s only trying to irritate john b, and it works. rafe smiles to himself when john b starts grumbling about it being his house actually, storming off to his room, undoubtedly to pout. sarah follows, and kie and jj trail after them a moment later. jj is the only one to look back, throwing a concerned look in pope’s direction before inevitably disappearing into john b’s bedroom.

rafe looks back at barry, all smugness disappearing from his expression when he sees just how bad the wound really is now that pope has cleaned it up a bit.

he really doesn’t care if he has to talk to sarah later - all he knows is that if barry dies, he’s sure as hell not going to be outside listening to sarah bitch at him when it happens.

rafe takes one of barry’s hands, ignoring the way pope’s eyes flicker down to the movement before returning to his work, remaining silent.

“you love him,” pope says suddenly, still not looking at rafe. he’s began sewing up the wound, his hands surprisingly steady.

“what’s it to you?” rafe asks defensively, but he curls his fingers tighter around barry’s, a little possessively.

pope just shrugs, like he doesn’t really care one way or another. “just an observation.”

he ties off the thread and cleans up the remaining dried blood from the wound with a rubbing alcohol-soaked cotton ball before applying a bandage and tugging barry’s shirt back down. it’s a lost cause, the shirt, but rafe appreciates the gesture anyway.

“it’s good to know you care about someone other than yourself,” pope says, finally turning towards rafe and giving him a hard look. “maybe there’s hope for assholes like you after all.”

rafe opens his mouth to say something bitchy back, but pope just claps him on the shoulder, stands and cracks his back, then leaves the room.

it’s just rafe and a passed out barry now. at least this way he can openly worry about his boyfriend, gnawing on his lip as he thinks about what it’ll be like if barry doesn’t make it.

rafe has been living with barry for some time now, ever since ward kicked him out. it’d started with sarah - she’d ran away and no one had known where. rafe ended up finding out through topper, but never seemed to get around to telling ward. don’t ask him why - he really doesn’t fucking know.

after sarah’s disappearance, ward’s temper reached its peak and rafe was kicked out mere weeks after his sister had gone missing. he stayed with topper for a while at first, often making trips to the cut to harass the dirty pogues who’d whisked his sister away from their supposedly happy family and her happy relationship with one of rafe’s closest friends.

when topper’s mother got sick of rafe loitering around her house, the only place left to go was barry’s. it’d helped that they’d already been screwing around for a while, initially so rafe could get discounts on coke, then turning into a full blown something over time.

their relationship has a definition now. barry had manhandled rafe into bed one evening and declared them to be officially official. meaning a relationship, meaning a bunch of figuring shit out as he goes because rafe sure as shit has never done any of this before.

he’s also pretty sure other relationships don’t involve hard drugs and robberies and shootings, so he thinks he’s got a few more obstacles to overcome than most when traveling the rocky road of a first relationship.

“rafe?” sarah calls, suddenly re-entering the room. “think we can talk now?”

rafe looks at her for a long moment. she looks different - happier, maybe? rafe wonders if he looks the same. maybe not right at this moment, with barry’s limp, clammy hand resting between his own, waiting on bated breath for barry’s eyes to blink open.

the need to hear barry’s slow drawl of coUnTrY cLUuUb is almost too much to bear, so rafe cuts his line of thought off, nods at sarah in answer to her question, and follows her outside.

they don’t talk for a long while, just staring out across the yard in silence. it’s not uncomfortable, per se, but rafe still wishes she’d say what she wants to say so he can get back inside. back to barry.

“this is a one time deal, you know,” sarah finally tells him.

when he looks at her from the corner of his eye, she’s staring directly at him, her expression serious. “i know,” is all he can come up with.

“i expect a thank you, just so you know.”

“i’m not thanking you,” rafe says immediately.

sarah actually smiles, just a little bit, then parrots back, “i know.”

“what did you want to talk to me about?” rafe asks eventually, pulling a cigarette from the pack he keeps in his pocket and lighting up.

sarah doesn’t answer for a moment, then shrugs, looking down at her hands. “i hate you, for the way you’ve treated me. and my friends. but sometimes i miss you. i miss my brother. what happened to you?”

it’s almost like she’s just thinking aloud, but rafe knows it’s a genuine question. one he doesn’t have an answer to. because he doesn’t really know where he went wrong - just that he could never seem to get anything right. not as a kid, not as a teenager, and not now as an adult.

“i don’t know,” rafe answers honestly, for the first time in a long time. he doesn’t know what else to say, so he tells her, simply, “but thank you for helping anyway.”

yeah, yeah. he wasn’t going to thank her, blah blah blah. whatever, shit happens.

the back door swings open, and rafe and sarah turn to watch barry stumble out of the house, still clutching his side but finally looking like a living, breathing person instead of a corpse.

“ain’t i tell you them things gonna rot your lungs?” is the first thing he says, plucking the cigarette from rafe’s lips and taking a drag.

rafe rolls his eyes, but lets barry rope him into a hug, careful not to bump into his wound.

“ugh, gross,” sarah huffs, making fake gagging noises before going back inside. rafe doesn’t miss the small smile that’s playing on her lips, though, and he’s suddenly filled with warmth.

it’s disgusting, and he’s surprised that he’s missed it. and that maybe, deep down, he’s missed his sister, too.

she said this is a one time deal, but maybe there’s a possibility of reconciliation. it’s a thought to revisit at a later date, rafe decides, wanting to focus on this moment right here, where barry is blessedly alive and safe.

so rafe just leans down a bit and buries his face in barry’s neck, taking a deep breath, feeling barry inhale and exhale around his cigarette as they stand in each other’s arms, companionable silence falling around them.

“you done saved my life, country club,” barry says, the first to break the silence.

rafe smiles against barry’s neck at the nickname, pressing a kiss to barry’s pulse point before pulling back a bit to look at him.

“yeah, you’re the only one who knows how to empty the septic tank,” rafe replies, deadpan.

barry throws his head back and laughs, one hand coming up to cradle the back of rafe’s head, pulling him down gently so he can press a kiss to his forehead.

“damn good thing you saved my ass, then.”

“sure is.”

when barry kisses rafe, he tastes like tobacco and blood, sour and metallic on his tongue. rafe should think it’s gross, but he just kisses barry harder, trying to scrub all the thoughts he’d had about barry dying from his memory.

it helps to have barry here, real and solid in rafe’s arms, lips soft against his own.

“can we get outta this shithole and back to our shithole?” barry asks when they separate, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “‘m pretty sure them shits would object to us christening their couch.”

rafe, for a moment, is tempted to try just to see what kind of reaction he’d get. but instead of following the urge, he lets barry guide him back to topper’s stolen car.

“who’s ride is this?” barry asks when they’re both buckled in, backing away from the routledge property.

“topper’s,” rafe explains, smirking to himself. “i, uh. borrowed it for the time being.”

“for the time being?” barry questions, and when rafe looks at him, barry is looking right back, brows raised and amusement written all over his face.

“mhm,” rafe confirms, matter-of-factly.

barry just glances around the car, a slow smirk spreading across his lips. “sweet ride. think ol’ topper’d object to a little christening, too?”

rafe starts the car, letting his own smirk grow. “as a matter of fact, i think he would.”

barry blinks at him, then stares at his nails casually.

“so where we gonna park her?”

rafe just smiles, peeling away from the routledge house, cruising into the night.

“i know just the place.”

[writer-akihiko]

Hi!! I know this story is finished and old already but is it ok if you make a ending where the reader ends up with Nobunaga? I kinda want angst in it.. That would be all TY and have a great day. (The story that I'm talking about is "All For Her")

All For Her - Kennyo X Reader X Yandere!Nobunaga [ALT]

PART 1, ACTUAL ENDING

I think I got carried away, but I basically got a wheel to choose some events of this story. This is my personal characterisation of Nobunaga from IkeSen as a Yandere. Actual Nobunaga would not do this; this is my take on how Nobunaga acts as a Yandere.

Warnings: Tragedy, Character Death, Yandere Content and Emotional Manipulation

"You defiled her!" Kennyo roared, unsheathing his staff. He blocked the rampant parries of the Devil King. "And you think that's love."

"Of course," Nobunaga said smugly, dodging Kennyo's swing. "This war…

It's all for her."

~○~

"This will be the last time you hold her, Kennyo."

He roared, howling at the pain of the sword. Kennyo fell to the ground, the stab to his shoulder numbing all of his senses as the blade cuts deep into his flesh.

"Perhaps YN would cast you away if I scar your face once again… Oh… How adorable she'd look to you in horror with the new scars I give you," Nobunaga teased, his menacing tone only edging his sword. "Or, I should kill you right here, and your head should be my bride's present…"

"KENNYO!"

You had come out to the battlefield since more of the injured soldiers could barely make it to the base. Despite of the fact of being on opposite sides, you still treated some of the Oda's soldiers that couldn't reach their own healers. Those with you moved their troops away as you ran to your lover.

Nobunaga pressed the blade further into Kennyo's neck, taunting you to come closer. You kept your distance, but you were horrified at Nobunaga's antics, as his words froze you on the spot. Your body and mind shut down at the thought of Kennyo being harmed. Your blood went cold, and before you knew it you had thrown yourself on top of Kennyo, protecting him from Nobunaga's swinging sword.

"How endearing," Nobunaga smiled at you, his gaze suddenly soft at seeing you. "It's been quite long, my fireball. I knew you'd come running to me."

All the strength left your body as Nobunaga ripped you away from your lover. Your will never left you, but your fear overcame it to the point you couldn't fight against the crazed man that desired you.

The Oda, as usual were efficient in wrapping up the war. Kennyo was arrested and it was claimed as a win for the Oda. The soldiers retreated and Ieyasu cared for the wounded. You'd usually see Hideyoshi and Masamune with grins on their faces, but Hideyoshi was practically expressionless and Masamune's eye only held rage but you weren't sure who it was directed to.

The Oda celebrated their grand victory with a banquet, and the Demon King kept you by his side, pampered and decorated for his eyes only. He kept you in his lap, as your being shifted to the automatic machine it used to be, pouring sake for your obsessed captor.

What sickened you to the stomach was how he announced the banquet.

"With the capture of Kennyo, I sentence him to continuous torture!"

Oh how you wanted to throw up at whoever cheered Nobunaga on...

Eventually, once Nobunaga had gotten drunk, Hideyoshi and Masamune flanked each side of Nobunaga, as Mitsuhide and Mitsunari guarded you. You made no effort to make conversation with the other warlords, for you feared what they might spill to Nobunaga, with the exception of Mitsuhide.

With how everyone was acting, you could only assume Mitsuhide messed with the sake as he was so bold to engage in conversation with you. "Princess, you must be prepared tomorrow."

"Is there something that I missed when I return?"

His voice lowered to a hush, as he explained his intentions. "Nobunaga will find my involvement with your escape. He'd execute me, but it will give you a chance to freedom."

You almost lost your stiff conduct, a drop of sake spilling onto your kimono. Yes, it was true that Mitsuhide was involved in convincing Nobunaga to let you roam to where you were taken by Kennyo, but even by then you weren't sure of his intentions. "Mitsuhide… Why?"

His hushed voiced tickled your ear as he revealed his one intention to you.

"For the woman I love. Even if I don't have your heart, I want you to bask in freedom."

~○~

The next morning's war council came, and there and then, another lower vassal accused Mitsuhide as the traitor that led their beloved Princess to Kennyo's army. The war council this time took a casual turn, as Nobunaga deemed it fit for the ladies of the court to witness the accusation from your balcony. Behind your veil, you shed a tear, sending a venomous gaze to Nobunaga.

You excused yourself from your maids, making your way out of your personal bedroom. Mitsunari should be waiting for you, as he authorised all the guards to be positioned else where. From your knowledge, Ieyasu, Masamune and Hideyoshi were in on Mitsuhide's plan too. Masamune and Ieyasu were to take charge of Kennyo's 'daily torture', while Hiedyoshi was to cause a scene by his natural rage at Mitsuhide betraying his Lord Nobunaga.

Nobunaga raised his fan, quelling the arguments amongst his vassals. "Ah… but wait, Akechi Mitsuhide isn't the only traitor amongst the Oda."

"W-What do you mean Lord Nobunaga?" Hideyoshi, who delivered slightly fake punches to Mitsuhide in his 'anger', stopped as he questioned Nobunaga. "Mitsuhide is always one to do things on his own!"

You raced through every corridor near the tenshu, trying to find Mitsunari in the hallways. Anywhere. Where could he be? Did he get-

The roars of shock from the Oda vassals rang as two guards brought none other that Ishida Mitsunari to the podium of Nobunaga, clearly bruised and beaten.

"A report from the guards came about suspicions of your vassal here to change the guards around the palace," Nobunaga said, as he ordered the guards to drop Mitsunari. "How could I not assume he was acting under your orders, Toyotomi Hideyoshi, you monkey?"

Mitsuhide and Hideyoshi were both apprehended at the hands of their own friends. They were brought to their knees in front of their long time lord, as their heads were pushed down to hang in shame.

"To honour your execution, since you both are great friends," He announced, drawing his pistol from his kimono. "I shall have you both shoot each other until your bodies fall. I'll allow your families to bury your bodies and your next brothers shall carry on your clan's lines."

"Any last words?"

Hideyoshi walked up to his lord he once respected, snatching the gun into his hand. "I thank you for letting me die by the hands of an honorable warlord unlike yourself."

Nobunaga did not hold back his anger as he struck Hideyoshi across the face with his iron-ribbed fan.

"I wouldn't have done this if you returned to the Lord Nobunaga I used to serve," Hideyoshi retorted, taking his stance with the gun pointed at Mitsuhide.

Mitsuhide had nothing to say to Nobunaga, except the silent nod to receive his gun. He raised it to Hideyoshi, saying his last to an old friend.

"Sorry for being a good shot."

"Don't be."

BANG!

You couldn't hold back your tears for Hideyoshi and Mitsuhide. You sobbed into your kimono, your mind being invaded by negative thoughts of your doings being the cause of their deaths. You didn't want this. You didn't want this. If only you had-

"The other two traitors are here!"

The crowd shifted as Ieyasu and Masamune made their way through the crowd, having heard the gunshots. From what you could discern, they were brought there by the jail guards by the orders of Nobunaga's messengers.

"This audience has had enough execution for the day," Nobunaga decided, looking over the three captured warlords under his hand. "However, I might as well give out the sentences now."

Ieyasu and Masamune were not bounded to any guards, but it was clear that they had long accepted their deaths. You wanted at least one of them to abandon you, to give you a sign that you weren't worth the trouble but none of them did. Those three stood their ground, as they face the Devil King himself.

"Ishida Mitsunari, under influence of Toyotomi Hideyoshi shall have a beheading for all to see," He commanded. The scribes were rapid to jot everything down, their parchment wet from the ink and not from the blood seeping into the paper. "Tokugawa Ieyasu and Date Masamune, for assisting the traitors, from this moment our alliance in dissolved. The Oda shall act on their own without your help."

"You shall be sent away. Unfortunately my authority does not reach you."

Masamune scoffed, "I wouldn't want to serve such a stupid warlord anyway."

Nobunaga shrugged it off. "May I meet you two on the battlefield, where I shall have your heads."

"May we have our revenge," Ieyasu said, walking away from the crowd, Masamune behind him.

~○~

Months had passed. Months of staying in this empty shell of yours, made to serve only Nobunaga. Before the last of his days, Mitsunari had requested to play Go with you. You apologised immensely for causing such tragedy, but Mitsunari welcomed you wholesomely. There was no hard feelings as his execution neared, and he advised you to not attend or witness it. You shed tears for Mitsunari, the handkerchief used to catch your tears delivered to Mitsunari's grave.

The day Nobunaga returned from his umpteenth war was as normal as any other day to you. You were sewing mindlessly, as you had no will to greet Nobunaga. He understood that, instead barging into your shared bedroom with familiar cloths around his arm.

He grinned as he noticed you recognise the band of cloth around his arm. "Ah, a parting gift from Ieyasu and Masamune before I took their heads. They consented to it as well, but you're not allowed to bring it around-"

"I hate you. I hate you, I HATE YOU!" You screamed into his arms, sobbing uncontrollably.

"I don’t mind firecracker," He said, his grip starting to feel painful at your wrist. "You see, I didn't care if those five were traitors or not. It was my luck that they fit into the narrative."

He continued, soothing your cries. "I was only getting rid of anyone who held your attention. I was drunk at that banquet but I still loathed how they befriended you so easily… I did it for you…

It's all for you."