#Pen Strike Anon

[iwouldfuckdarkiplier]

if Dark's tentacles produce inky cum instead of normal void cum then WATCH ME GUZZLE THAT SHIT. portable pen ink right into my mouf - ✒️💥

CURSED

do you think you could write with it

[padfootastic]

But Sirius thought Remus was capable of betraying James without any evidence at all (that we know of), meanwhile Remus believed Sirius betrayed James when literally all evidence pointed towards that. What actually happened was so outlandish no one would have believed it if Peter hadn’t actually been there in the Shack. Can you really blame Remus for trying to make sense of it all and cope somehow? He lost everything and everyone that day :(

friend, u must be new here :p (haha i’m only kidding bc this is something i rant about a lot here 🙈)

when i say remus failed sirius, i’m not even referring to the entire clusterfuck of that situation. in saudade, sirius says ‘i wouldn’t have cared if you thought i was a mass murderer or a death eater’ (paraphrased) and i would extend that to believing he murdered peter as well. it’s entirely believable for remus to be super confused and messed up bc, like u said, he lost everything that night.

but i personally believe james and sirius’ friendship was so, so strong and so fkn intense that it was obvious to everyone around them (and this is highkey backed up by canon as well—rosmerta and mcg) and remus would’ve had front row seats to that. in my mind, marauder dynamics were like this: james at the centre, sirius as his closest and dearest friend, and remus and peter still pretty close but comparatively peripheral.

and that’s really the crux of the matter for me. it’s one thing for everyone else to condemn sirius, not having seen close up how attached he was to james—but for remus to do the same? they might as well not have been marauders then.

(it’s also like. james & sirius accepted remus’ wolfy issues to the point that they literally risked body and magic and jail time to help him. it wasn’t lip service but true acceptance. james called it his ‘furry little problem’ and imagine what that must have felt like to someone like remus who’s only seen werewolves referred to derogatorily, never in such a lighthearted manner. they believed in him despite growing up as purebloods who’d’ve probably heard/seen the worst kind of bias and discrimination. can remus not have found it in himself to do the same?)

(also, if i’m permitted to go into conjecture/headcanon territory—i have two HCs for sirius suspecting remus. one, inspired by daily-chan, is that they never actually did. the only reason they kept distance from remus and didn’t tell him about the switch was because he was infiltrating werewolf packs at the time and to be found w info like that would’ve been very dangerous for him so it’s a way to protect him.

second, they do suspect him but that’s bc remus gives them cause to do it. again, he’s infiltrating werewolf packs. but, i firmly believe knowing remus, he would’ve been very shady about it, not telling them what he’s doing and where he’s going (which, j&s would’ve done themselves and expected, in the middle of war, regardless of orders) and he doesn’t want to question dumbledore’s actions and all of that, while not exactly being the same as a death eater, casts enough doubt that they couldn’t trust him with something like the fidelius bc he refuses to just tell them what he’s doing)

sorry this is so long lol but i’m v passionate about this. i guess it comes down to this: yes, remus’ actions might make sense. he was suffering. but sirius really, really drew the short end of the stick there. and for his own friend, his best friend & brother, to treat him the same way as those who didn’t know him? that’s even worse.

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Hi bubbs, 💖 anon here. I never made a request before, but I'd like to make one now. Can you write a fic in which reader gets injured and Azriel takes care of her and tends to her wounds? Reader has been through a lot in the past so she doesn't know how to react to someone taking care of her. Both of them are also secretly pining for one another. Pls write it if you have the time, no pressure. Much love to you Queen, bye bye💖.

Hey, gorgeous! Enjoy!💕✨

Keep you safe

Azriel hated when Rhys sent you out on missions alone or with anyone who wasn’t him. When it came to you he trusted no one. It was stupid. Over the top stupid but he just couldn’t. Couldn’t make himself settle when he wasn’t the one guarding your back. And then maybe it was the fact that something deep within his chest burnt for you. It was easy with you. From day one you had managed to see right through him. Right through everything he thought he was masking like a true mastermind.

“If you had come to nag me about putting her on a search team with other boys, you don’t have to. By now I know what you will drill me for”, Rhys spoke up before Azriel had a chance to fully enter his study. “I just don’t understand why you do it”, the spymaster slowly closed the door before turning to his brother, “You know how much it unsettles me”. Rhys put down his pen, looking straight up at Azriel, “Man up then and tell her how you feel”, and that was enough to make Azriel's shoulders go stiff. “Stop with that nonsense. Aren’t you tired of trying to play a matchmaker?”, but Azriel’s words only made Rhys smirk. “You can make her yours, admit how you’re feeling, and have an advantage over my decisions. Or you can sulk for the rest of your life because, brother, you’re not getting any younger”, Rhys’s eyes pierced through Azriel. He slowly nodded his head before turning around, “You don’t know shit”, he reached for the door handle once more, “Oh, and if something happens to her because of this choice of yours”, his eyes now much darker, landed on his high lord, “Your pretty face will take a beating. My condolences to Feyre”, and with that, he was gone.

It was an anxious couple of days of sitting around. The reports Azriel had to fill out were adding up but he couldn’t get his mind to settle. And then he heard it. The sea of voices. Among them a voice he would recognize anywhere. Azriel is quick to jump to his feet, rushing down the stairs. And there you stand. Your fighting leather was still on as you gave your last orders to the soldiers that had come with you.

“Y/n”, the shadow singer called out with a tight nod. Your eyes. Tired eyes meet his. A light smile pulls at the corner of your mouth, “Azriel”. The soldiers give clipped nods to both of you before hurrying away. “Didn’t even say goodbye”, Azriel crosses his arms over his chest. “You know i hate goodbyes”, you snicker, turning slightly only to hiss beneath your breath. “Is everything okay?”, the question falls out of his mouth way too quickly but your well-being has been the center of attention ever since you left. “Yeah, perfect. Need to give Rhys a rundown”, and that’s when his eyes notice your clammy-looking skin, the slight tremble.

Azriel reaches out, grabbing your arm, and the dampness of it strikes him. He lets go in a hurry only to be met with a bloody palm. “Yn…”, it’s barely a whisper as his vision zeros onto the crimson staining his skin. “It is nothing”, you brush it off so carelessly that it makes Azriel’s blood boil. “Nothing? You’re bleeding all over the foyer”, he whispers shouts, stepping right in front of you, blocking your way away from him. “I’ll clean it up?”, you try, not too sure as to what would calm this sudden fury burning in him. His wild eyes look you over. And then there is darkness. The coldness of his shadows surrounded everything.

“Sit”, he orders before the mist of his darkness even has a chance to fizzle out. “Azriel you can’t just take me like that”, you hiss out both in pain and frustration. To his apartment outside the city, he had winnowed you. Just like that. Just because. “But it seems like I did”, he sassed over his shoulder before pointing to the sofa, “sit down, woman, before I sit you down”. You gape at him for a moment. Under any other circumstance you would be putting him in his place but now… now you just feel weaker and weaker by the minute.

“You are being childish”, you point out, welcoming the feeling of ease once your body eases against the sofa. “You are being careless”, he throws your own words at him. Ones that you had thrown at him on multiple occasions after his missions. “Shirt off”, Azriel asks, motioning to the material. “Azriel, this is nothing”, you try to reason once again. You don’t want him to see you like this. You can lick your wounds on your own. Have done that your whole life.

“Say that one more time”, it’s a dare you know that. Know him. Just as you know the more you push, the more likely it is that he will be the one doing the undressing. “Fine”, you huff, “I’ll show you so you will get out of my hair”, it’s mean and rude at best, because he had been nothing but nice. You just can’t wrap your head around someone caring. But even you halt at the sight of the angry-looking gash surrounded by bruises. You haven’t looked at it since the attack. You felt it yes. But it didn’t feel that bad. Not to mention the puss slowly forming at the edges. Infected. A chill runs down your back.

“Fuck”, Azriel’s voice fills in the silence. “It wasn’t…”, you start but your voice dies. “Sit, or better lay down”, and there it is, the collected composure, “I’ll fetch clean clothes and Madja’s slaves”, he’s quick to step into his neatly arranged storage room. Searching through the medical supplies. “She’s not in Velaris now but I will make sure she comes here first thing when she returns”, he’s rambling now. Meaning it’s bad. He thinks it’s bad too.

You’re only in your breast wrap when Azriel returns. He would admire you. What man wouldn’t but not now. Not when your chest is coming up and down in broken breathes. Your face looking ashy. “This will hurt. Hold onto my shoulders”, he kneels between your legs, dampening the material. “I’m good”, you say through clenched teeth, letting your head fall over the back of the sofa. Azriel watches you, “I warned you”, he mutters before pressing the cloth to your wound.

Your hands shoot up as quickly as the pain making you cry out. Reaching for the man tending your wounded side. “Breathe through it. Nice and slow”, his lips brush against the side of your head. You didn’t even realize when he had leaned over you. “It hurts”, you cry out, feeling the tears rolling down your cheeks. “Look at me, I’ve got you”, his forehead is pressed to yours. Eyes watching you. He gives you a quick nod and you nod alongside him, “Make it quick”. Another tight nod and the salve-soaked material is once again against your burning flesh.

You cry out, head falling onto Azriel’s shoulder. The agony of it all catches up quickly to you. “Just a bit more”, he pleads, trying to clean away all the crusted-over blood and puss. “You’re doing great. So brave. So strong”, you want to bite back that you’re not a child that needs praise but his words soothe something inside you.

“Lay down, you will feel dizzy”, Azriel reaches out to steady your head back. “Any more not serious cuts on your body?” You lift your arm, one he had grasped. It’s a much shallow wound the bleeding had stopped by now. Yet Azriel tends to it as carefully. You watch him do it. The way he has that almost permanent frown on his face. As if every bruise and cut had personally offered him. “I’ll wrap you up”, he mutters after a while, gathering all the blood-soaked clothes. “I can do it myself, you did enough”, The truth is you don’t want to move. Or more like don’t know if you can. Azriel just looks down at you before sighing, “I understand now why you get pissed when I play big boy around you”, you can’t help but smile a little. Tending to him was always a headache but you always got him to give in. “Got to keep you on your toes now”, you whisper, not trusting your voice.

“Just let me look after you”, he mutters and you take a moment to soak in his worried eyes. “Why?”, deep down you know the answer but there’s an urge now. Urge to hear him say it. “Because…”, Azriel breathes out, stalling, “Because I’ve been worried sick since you left, because this will help my mind settle”. He shakes his head slightly, “Because I care… about you”. You take a shaky breath in, wanting to reach out for him. “Az…”, you mutter. “Don’t say anything now. Heal first and let me help you do so faster”, he cups your face, before going back to fetch the bandages.

[livelaughlovesubs]

HI NINIII i know i havent been back in a while but i saw your event post, could i request 'forcing them to beg' and 'mocking them for involuntary reactions' with my beloved poet poe

and if you're feeling extra generous maybe throw in some nice aftercare because im a soft dom deep down 💕

-🫶

Hey heyyyy!! Welcome back 🫶 anon :D glad to see you hehe. One Poe request? Right away~

Dom!reader x sub!poe - reader is gn

Warning: teasing, begging, light degration?

Anniversary event

What a sly thing you were.

Sneaking up on him while he was brainstorming for new ideas to add to his novel. You couldn’t help it, he was too adorable to resist. Sitting at his desk, head in the clouds while he tightly clenched his fountain pen. When you were close enough, standing right behind him, you glanced over his shoulder to see him doodling down random notes. Despite how close you were, he still hadn’t acknowledged your presence. How concentrated he was~

Which is why you leaned forward, to whisper into his ear, “Poe~”. The boy jumped immediately, shrieking like a kitten as he turned to look at you. His pen made a ‘thud’ sound as it hit the floor, and he rushed to pick it up, “uuahh..! Y-y/n? Ah- w-wait..” He bend over as he reached for it, and since he was presenting you with such an opportunity you just had to strike.

Wrapping your arms around his body, feeling him shudder due to your touch.

“Heh, so sensitive aren’t you?” You teased while he was still bend over, now hesitating to slump back into his seat. “Y/n… t-that’s not…” He began, but stopped midway. “not what?” You heard him gulp loudly before he answered meekly, “not true.”

“Are you sure about that?” A fun idea popped up, and you began massaging his sore shoulders. You pressed down on the cramped muscles, hands skilfully kneading him. His posture is bad, that’s why his neck’s almost always cramped. Once again he yelped, making you chuckle softly. “Because if not, why are you whimpering like a girl?”

You knew he was blushing, even if you couldn’t see his face. The quivering of his body was also a sign of it.

“It’s because you are touching m-me..” Poe managed to squeeze out, but he knew from the beginning he couldn’t win against you. “Oh? So it’s my touch that makes you all sensitive? Not because you’re a lewd boy?” How were you expecting him to not get flustered when you were using that tone, all while tracing one hand down his spine? And using the your other hand to brush your fingertips across his chest?

Seeing him all speechless was cute, but not fun. You wanted to make him cry out and beg, to plead like how you taught him. That’s why you tugged his hair behind his ear and blew hot air against the reddening shell. “Ngh…!” He tried so hard to muffle that moan, knowing you’d mock him for it, but it was all in vain.

“Will you admit how perverted your body is now, Poe?” You rested your chin on his shoulder, both hands now travelling up and down his body in a sickening slow motion. “I-I..” he stuttered, stumbling over his words. “You what?” The feeling of your breath tickling his skin got him squirming around all crudely, it made him want to curl up into a ball and disappear.

While your eyes scanned his body, noticing his crotch, seeing his reacting to your relentless teasing, you smirked again, “Haha~ how perverted indeed. You are a dirty, dirty boy Poe.” He shuddered, shaking all over as he whined, head turning minimal to look at you. “Don’t just stare, use your pretty little mouth.” You demanded, still groping him all over, enjoying the reactions of his body.

“P-please..” He begged, though too embarrassed to continue his request. “Go on, tell me.” You reassured him, playing with the jungle of hair on his head. “T-touch me more.” Poe eventually mumbled, and he instantly regretted it, too ashamed of his own desires. On the other hand, you scoffed at him, “c’mon sweetheart, you can beg better than that.”

Yes, maybe, but no. He has a way with words, only when he writes them down not when voicing them! “Y-y/n..!” He called to your name, too humiliated to obey your orders, even though he wanted to be your good boy so bad. “Acting cute won’t help now.” You reminded him. Defeated, he quickly gazed over his shoulder, tears already forming in his eyes as he whispered a sweet plead, “t-touch me.. a lot, please, I-i beg you..”

What a cute thing he was.

[mrshesh]

hi! do you have any general hcs for the cod:ghosts boys?

general headcanons - call of duty: ghost's

overview: general headcanons of the call of duty: ghost's boys!

pairing: none!

genre: fluff, pure tomfoolery

a/n: hi anon! i'm thrilled i finally got a request for these boys. i love them so much, it's getting a bit unhealthy. you're truly the best for requesting them! i hope you love it!

x logan walker

He sucks at puzzles. He’s smart and tactical, but puzzles are on another level of difficulty for him. 

He likes doodling a lot. If he has a pen and a surface to draw on, he will sketch a small smiley or a caterpillar. It has become such a habit that he doesn’t even think about it when he does it. It got so bad that once, Keegan called him out on it mid-doodle, leaving Logan embarrassed for a week. 

He loves the ocean, but beaches annoy him. He hates sand. (I firmly believe his hate for them is from Hesh throwing sand in his face as children.)

He has a picture of him and Hesh as kids in his wallet. He feels calmer when he looks at it, getting into the habit of peeking at it when stressed. 

He’s an avid Deftones enjoyer. He loves Beware and Diamond Eyes. 

He likes caramel-scented things, but he doesn’t like the taste of it. 

He has some insane dirt on Elias, and, of course, Hesh knows all of it. 

For some odd reason, he’s phenomenal at parallel parking. 

x david "hesh" walker

He loves movies. He can watch any genre! Horror? Great! Action? Love. Romance? Cute! Comedy? Perfect! He loves it all. Shows, however? Nope. 

He takes pride in his nails being clipped and filed at all times. He was a nailbiter in his teens, so he cares about his nails more than he should today. 

He can’t cook to save his life. 

Eminem is his go-to artist. He loves and respects many artists, but Eminem will always be at the top of his list. He loves Stan. 

He’s respectful in general.

He’s extremely secure and confident, yet he’s still pretty nervous when he talks to girls. 

He loves long car rides. Driving around in his car while listening to his favorite songs brings out a unique joy in him. 

He, unlike Logan, loves beaches! (He wasn’t the one who got sand thrown on him, so he’s thriving.) 

He hates coriander. 

x elias "scarecrow" walker

Unlike his son, Elias is great at puzzles! He’s disappointed Logan didn’t inherit that quality. He mourns it every day. 

He loves pickles. (Same.)

He manipulated himself into liking beer many years ago. 

People call him DILF all the time. It has happened too many times to count. He finds it funny, while Hesh and Logan are horrified every time. 

He doesn’t know how to put on chapstick. He puts it between his lips and swipes it back and forth, not on his lips. 

He got so much action when he was a teenager/young adult. He tells Logan and Hesh to “live a little” so they can experience that life, too. 

He doesn’t listen to music often, but when he does, he listens to either Korn or Chris Isaak. 

He adores Riley, sometimes stealing him from Hesh without warning. 

x keegan russ

He secretly enjoys ASMR. It helps him unwind and de-stress, but not sleep, surprisingly.

He’s excellent at the game Mafia. 

He has made way too many people giggle excitedly because of his voice. He finds it amusing but disturbing at the same time. He knows it’s attractive, but that many people? He has even made Elias giggle like a schoolgirl because of his vocal folds. 

Keegan strikes me as a Slipknot fan. He finds Killpop and Vermillion to be sexy. 

He loves grocery shopping. 

He talks to himself a lot. He’s antisocial and quiet around others, but when Keegan’s alone, he keeps having full-on conversations with himself. Merrick caught him doing it once - he never brought it up again. 

He enjoys lasagna a bit too much. 

He had a motorcycle phase as a young adult. It got so bad he learned how to do a wheelie on them, but his love for them has died down in the many years he’s been alive. 

He thinks wine is gross. 

x thomas merrick

He cannot stand bananas. Everything about them makes him gag. 

He gets such a rise out of being a bitch. He’s already annoying by default but strives to be even more insufferable for the fuck of it.

He, Alex, and Keegan smoke while being sentimental together at least once a month. (It’s always with Keegan and Alex - Elias, David, and Logan get left out.) 

He listens to underground metal like Sold Soul, and he thinks it makes him superior to everyone else. (And he gatekeeps it.)

He’s immune to pretty much all physical pain except for waxing. It’s enough to make him cry. 

He loved trains as a child.

His comfort song is Toxicity by System Of A Down. 

His appetite is insane. This man can eat a horse and still be hungry by the end of it. 

His calves are huge for some reason. 

[flokali]

♤ Mystery | Akechi Goro

Warnings: Yandere Akechi, stalking, harassment, manipulation, gaslighting, breaking and entering, belittling of MC, delusions of grandeur from Akechi, etc. Ask to tag!

Includes: GN! Reader, college aged Akechi and MC, hints at the data-mined ending for P5R so technically not canon complacent, MC is paranoid and is gaslighted like crazy <3

A/N: Commissioned by a lovely anon for "Fics for Gaza"! Thank you for being so patient with me (TT); link to the og post and their blog @ficsforgaza in case you want to check it out! Mister Goro “Mansplain, Manipulate, Manslaughter” Akechi strikes again…

After years of working as a detective, Akechi knew how to avoid being caught.

– “Dear detective,” the letters he’d pen always began the same way.

With a pristine pair of gloves and a printed-out note, no trace of his handwriting or fingerprints would be detected no matter how hard you tried to find them. He made sure to use common stationery, the type that could be found in any store purely to make it harder for you to trace back to him. He hopes you appreciate the effort he’s put into this little game he was playing with you.

The clues he did give you, which he did because there was no fun to be had if you weren’t at least suspicious that he was the anonymous sender, were calculated as if to taunt you just enough to confirm his identity to you but vague enough that you couldn’t reasonably go to anyone else to accuse him without losing respectability and keeping your reputation of a sensible investigator.

– “[…] but, if you want me to give you a clue you can just ask. I’d much rather you be on the right track, I’d truly be offended if you confused me with some idiot on the street.” 

It was a balancing act that would have been tiring to most, but to him, it was nothing short of intoxicating. After a lifetime of being forced to put on an act, it felt nice to have an outlet where he could let out all his pent-up emotions, especially when it came to you.

He knew you well enough, the last few years of his time as a celebrity had been spent working exclusively alongside you. It was hard for him to find someone suitable enough to share the spotlight with. He enjoyed your presence enough that he didn’t want to go through the process of checking if there was anyone better, though he sincerely doubted that was true; he knew you better than you knew yourself and he had long since decided you were staying by his side as his assistant. That’s how he knew that he was driving you crazy and that, soon enough, you’d reach your breaking point; he was looking forward to it.

– “Have you considered quitting? It looks like you’re not doing too well these days, maybe the stress is catching up to you.”

What he was doing was undoubtedly cruel, but Akechi thought he was more than justified in his actions; you would probably hold it against him at first but, in the long run, you’d realize he was right. He was certain his therapist would scold him and tell him he was undoing all of his work, but the man knew you better than anyone; he was doing you a favor by helping you resign.

You were not made for this line of work; if he couldn’t handle it, why should you? 

You two had been working together for years before he quit the limelight, he was annoyed to no end to have to stand next to you, there was no doubt in his mind he was better than you, and he was right, but soon enough he grew to tolerate your presence and even enjoy it.

You were honest and barely held your tongue when it came to him, from the beginning you had stood out as someone who truly enjoyed their position. He can’t understate how deeply he resented you at first, he found your attitude annoying and pretentious but soon learned that you genuinely did mean it when you said you were doing this for yourself – he hated that, and for a while, his feeling only doubled down onto the negatives but soon enough he grew to appreciate your honesty and a friendship began to blossom. You grew to become one of the only people Akechi thought highly of, even if he didn’t truly enjoy his work as a celebrity being by your side made it tolerable. It was something he realized after working with his doctor; he cared for you, even if he’d denied it at first, you were someone he treasured deeply and he didn’t want to see you get hurt the way he had been. Why couldn’t you see that?

– “I don’t enjoy seeing you so miserable, detective, your fans probably don’t like it much either…”

You were talented, no doubt about it, but you had always been second best to himself, and that’s how it would forever be. Everything you did was compared and eventually overshadowed by his accomplishments, you could solve a case in a day and he’d come and do it in half. Everything you could do, he could do better; way better, in fact, so much better people often forgot you’d done it first or at all.

You weren’t bad or stupid, far from it, he wouldn’t have allowed himself to be on stage with just anybody, but if he was Sherlock, solving the big cases and taking the spotlight, you were Watson, destined to sit back and assist him - only ever getting the spotlight when he wasn’t around (though that has proven to not always be the case as even now it is as if you lived in his shadow).

– “I truly don’t get why you insist on being a detective when you’re so mediocre at it, seriously, when was the last time you solved a case by yourself? You’re wasting everyone’s time.”

It was that very nature of your relationship that had led him to believe that, when he eventually left the role of detective for something that he would actually enjoy, you would follow him. After all, all of your teenage years had been spent together, working in tandem, why would he expect you to turn your back on him and the life you two had known for superficial stardom? You always spoke of helping others and he had found a way to do it in a truly significant way that allowed you two to be free and live honestly, away from the media.

Akechi’s time working on the Phantom Thieves’ case had given him new insight into the life he had led up until that point, as much as he wished he didn’t have to credit them with much - the months after they had disbanded had left him rethinking his choices. To you, and by proxy anyone outside of himself, his therapist, and Ren, his decision would have seemed sudden and maybe even brash; but he thought that, once you heard him out, you would join him.

Sure, the relationship between you two was friendly, years of knowing each other and working together had left you two with a great friendship, but it was nowhere near close enough to make you pack up and leave everything you had worked for behind because he had a sudden realization. At least, you would think that’d be clear to him but alas it wasn’t. He had constructed an image of you, but for all of his smarts, it was too incomplete to truly understand you.

– “When will you go to the authorities about me? […] Is it a lack of clues? If you leave it to the professionals I am certain they’ll do a better job trying to track me; even I’m getting tired of this.” 

He had been blindsided by his ego and forgotten that you were just as complex as he was, that simply because he had realized this life was not for him it didn’t mean it wasn’t for you. Akechi's understanding of your relationship was tested when you finally broke the news that you and he were fundamentally different people with equally different goals.

He had invited you over for lunch when he’d broken the news, the brunette made sure you were one of the first to know so you could come out together and announce your retirement at the same time. He had been so sure you would agree with him it was almost offensive how predictable he thought you were.

It was a high-end restaurant, you two had come here before during your breaks from work, but it had still shocked you to receive the invitation since it had been some time since you two hung out as friends and not coworkers. The last few months had been filled with work and much self-reflection on his part and soon enough you two had graduated from high school without actually talking to each other outside of work hours or the occasional friendly text. For a long time, Akechi had made it clear you weren’t friends and it took you years of knowing each other for him to finally acknowledge how close you two had gotten, but even then you were the one initiating most hangouts; maybe his odd behavior should have been your first clue something was up.

He had sat you down and let you order, making sure to get you comfortable before unloading the news onto you. He was aware you would be surprised at first, but he was certain of today’s outcome.

“I think it’s time I quit,” he had said after the waiter had brought over your drinks, he took a long sip of his water before continuing, “This is a waste of time and I see no reason to continue, after… everything that’s happened, I realized I’m sick of this.”

At the time, you were unsure how he wanted you to react; you weren’t angry, a bit surprised and confused, yes, maybe even sad, but you were in no way about to praise his choice and follow in his footsteps.

“I am surprised,” you managed to say, dabbing at your lips with a napkin, the news had shocked you enough you had choked on your drink but you were quick to reassure him before he could make any snide remarks, “But, if it’s what you want to do, then I’m happy for you…”

An awkward silence followed your words as if he were waiting for you to say something else. He was not expecting you to agree immediately, you needed to hear him out but he didn’t want to look too desperate.

“Um,” you look away, his burgundy eyes were a little too intense, “what made you realize you wanted to quit?”

“There is nothing at the end of this road,” he answered as if he had been expecting you to ask, it felt practiced, “it’s all the same and can we truly say we’re doing something important? All we do is run around, solve people’s problems, and get congratulated, but are we really solving their problems? We temporarily give them peace of mind but it’s always a trivial issue that would have been solved with or without us. I don’t want to continue wasting my time doing what others want or need me to do for them, I’m tired of being used… I want to do something only I can.”

“I didn’t think you saw it like that,” you muttered, you seemed deep in thought at his words, “it’s a new perspective, even for you.”

“I guess so,” Akechi agrees with you, “but I stand by it, I can’t lie to myself and say that what we’re doing is real work or that I enjoy it.”

“I can’t say I necessarily agree,” you conclude, you take a sip of your drink and go on to continue your thoughts, “even if what we’re doing isn’t solving their whole lives, it’s something. At the end of the day, if you can lighten their load and inspire them to keep going and working hard, even if it’s over small things that won’t matter in the grand scheme, isn’t that better than nothing? If they find strength in seeing celebrities succeed, then that’s better than being hopeless.”

“So you’d rather do the bare minimum, hoping you inspire someone rather than being an active participant in change?”

“You make it sound like I’m stupid, Akechi,” you eye him wearily, “sure, I’m not going out there and solving wars, but if my work can inspire people to keep going, letting them know there’s always a n answer, isn’t that encouraging them to work towards the future? If I can inspire someone to help another, that’s enough for me – change doesn’t have to come from direct actions, sometimes it’s a chain reaction.”

“And you think you can set it off?” He scoffs, he’s aware he sounds rude but you’re preaching nonsense as far as he can tell and he’s never been fond of unrealistic optimism.

“Are you implying I can’t?” 

“I just don’t think you have what it takes, I don’t think anyone has what it takes, to hope someone sees you and is inspired into action is too reckless – you may as well print a poster and call it a day,” he glares at you, seemingly annoyed at your naïveté, “if you want to make a real change, you can’t be tied down to fantasies.”

“So what am I supposed to do, quit?” You ask flabbergasted and feeling insulted, you’re well aware that your work isn’t the pinnacle of hard labor but you’ve given your all to get to a place where you can at least show people that there’s a future where justice can exist.

“I think so,” you are shocked, “I think you’d do much better elsewhere rather than wasting your time, become a real detective or even a damn lawyer; we can’t play pretend forever.”

To you, the rest of the conversation was a blur; you only remember leaving early and feeling as if he’d spent the last hour discrediting everything you had done while trying to convince you to quit and do God knows what he’d try to rope you into.

The only thing you can say with confidence that he said to you had left you feeling small and disappointed, as if he had confirmed your biggest fear; that you would always be second best:

“If I couldn’t do it, what makes you think you can?”

He genuinely did mean it too, you could tell from the way he seemed honestly surprised you thought you could outlive his career. You think he tried to assure you he didn’t think you were stupid, something about how he’d poured all of himself into the role and couldn’t accomplish his goal and how he was hoping you’d realize that it was impossible before you were burnt out too, but all you can remember is the way he looked at you as if you were a stupid child having your ABC’s explained to them.

Akechi realizes now, months later and after a lot of self-reflection, that his approach was inadequate and that, in the long term, it had done more damage than good. Alas, time cannot be turned back; if he wasn’t able to talk you out of it, then he’d have to show you that you were wasting your time.

Between you two, he had always been the better one; so why would you be the one it works out for? If he couldn’t do it, then you certainly can’t either.

That’s why his first note was an apology, his first clue to you. 

– “I am simply an admirer of your work, even if there are many flaws in it…”

The idea of anonymous letters had come to him when reminiscing back on his time following Amemiya and his gang, the warning notes they’d give out to their targets that would taunt them and leave them skittish, wondering if it was a joke or not and worrying about the absurd possibility there was merit to their threats. In his case, he needed to play things out differently; he didn’t want to make you suffer, he truly wanted to make you see the situation the way he did – the correct way if you will.

And so, for the last year, you have been receiving his notes. 

You had told no one about them, too embarrassed to admit you were being affected by them and too proud to ask for help. After all, what would you say? People would probably tell you to figure it out yourself,

you were supposed to be a detective after all; how come you couldn’t find the identity of your stalker?

– “[…] Do you actually think you’ve caught me? You just fired a makeup artist for no reason, if you keep acting irrationally you’ll get a reputation; I suggest thinking more about who you accuse next time. People will get suspicious if you start acting so… erratically.”

Though you’re almost certain you do know who it is,  it’s been near impossible to find any tangible proof that you could take to the authorities. You were struggling and Akechi knew. It was only a matter of time before you were forced to come to terms that you simply didn’t have what it took to succeed, Akechi tried telling you in a nicer way but you just didn’t listen. If you can’t even catch him, a man you’ve known for years, what makes you think you’ll catch a real criminal? You had known him for years and hadn’t caught onto his most dangerous actions, a bunch of letters wasn’t going to be any easier for you.

It’s surprising to both of you how long you put off calling him. You were almost completely sure he was the one behind the letters, he’d been so nice – as he would say, even if you don’t agree – to leave clues, but stalling the inevitable was more of an ego thing on your part. From mentioning things you had told him in private, recalling moments that should have been between the two of you alone, it almost feels like he had documented everything; and yet he didn’t leave DNA or even a single fingerprint, everything he used was so carefully picked out you had no way of tracing it back to him.

You didn’t know what he’d say, maybe he’d laugh at you and scold you for taking almost a year to realize or maybe he’d try to deny it and make you feel stupid for even suspecting him. Akechi always had a way with words, especially the closer you two got, that made you feel smaller in comparison to him. But at this point you didn’t care, he’d been taunting you for months and you were at your limit.

– “You haven’t been sleeping well, I see you frequenting that cafe more often; it’s not healthy.” 

You would find his handiwork everywhere you went; outside of your house, near spots you’d often frequent, and sometimes you’d find them in places you had been to only hours before as if he were watching you and waiting to strike.

They were always so long too, Akechi had no qualms in explaining in great detail every single misstep you’d made, for their almost daily frequency you had to admit he was dedicated to an over six hundred word count. It would have been impressive if it wasn’t so creepy.

To be honest, you probably would have lived through it for a while longer if he hadn’t crossed the line even further; you’d found one of his notes inside your house.

As of the last few weeks you had been going above and beyond trying to catch him, he had been right; your work had been suffering greatly due to the stress of finding his stupid notes all around you. You had seen the headlines, wondering what had happened – some discrediting your life’s work, others lamenting your decline in quality, others simply attributing your achievements to him of all people. He was proving his point and it annoyed you to no end.

You barely got any sleep as you desperately combed over the letters, everything that pointed to him was circumstantial and would not serve to prove anything to anyone, much less the authorities. You both knew that it was only a matter of time before it became too much.

You had to take a break, eventually going into hiding and hyper-focusing on trying to find any concrete evidence. At this point, those letters were all you thought about from the moment you woke up to the moment you fell asleep. And he still had the audacity to taunt you, leaving his handiwork outside your doorstep every day to remind you of why you were isolated at home at all times.

– “Does this not feel a little pathetic, detective?”

You had been toying around with the idea of confronting him, giving in and forgoing your pride and just begging him to stop. You hadn’t seen him in a year and after your last conversation you had no real intention of trying to mend any bridges but you needed to know if it was him as you so desperately believed or if you really were going crazy.

For a moment you thought you were dreaming when you woke up to one of his scarlet envelopes sitting on top of your nightstand; you immediately recognized it. You almost don’t believe it even as you peel the seal away and unravel the note, but it’s one of them – it couldn’t be from anybody else. No one knew of them other than you and the sender.

You basically jump out of your bed and scramble to get your phone, too emotional to even spare it a once over, your hands are shaking with frustration - you feel flustered and annoyed, and you swear to whatever is listening to you that if the brunette didn’t answer your call you would drive over and make the most embarrassing scene you could muster. Akechi was currently attending university and you were more than willing to go to his campus or even his place, in public surrounded by strangers or not, and demand he give you answers. If it wasn’t him, then you had no idea who it could be and you didn’t know what scared you more.

The way he wrote, the way he teased you, the way he seemed to always be a step ahead of you, it all screamed Akechi. His condescending tone from that dinner echoed in his words even if only written; why did you get to live out your childhood dream if he could not? What had you done that he hadn’t? What did you have that he didn’t that make you better than him? He didn’t want to be a celebrity detective, but he was better at it, so why would you - someone worse than him - get to continue?

From every possible angle, Akechi Goro was better than you, and yet, for some reason, you were the one advancing in their career, you were the one the public began to favor over himself; seeing you live the life he had given up better than he had pissed him off. He thought you were friends, maybe even closer than that, you were partners – the only other person in the world who knew the isolation and expectations that came with stardom —  and yet you abandoned him for the very thing he despised.

He’s still pleasantly surprised to see your caller ID flashing on his phone, though Akechi knew you to be stubborn and a part of him was hoping you’d be able to withstand his teasing a little more – especially now that he knew how to sneak into your home –, he had been expecting a call from you. He almost felt bad when he picked up and heard your clearly panicked voice.

Almost; this whole ordeal was too fun for him to feel too badly about his actions.

“Akechi,” you try not to show how disturbed you are in case your hunch was right, “we need to talk, now.”

“Hello to you too,” he ignores the sense of urgency in your words, “aren’t you going to ask me how I’ve been? It’s been a while since we last talked.”

“And you know why that is,” you scoff, “I didn’t need you to continue telling me I suck at my job and that I should quit because you were illuminated by the heavens.”

“It was one conversation,” you can’t see it from over the phone but his reddish eyes seem to gleam in delight, he lets out an airy laugh, “and you cut me off before we could see eye to eye, you make me sound like some sort of evil lunatic.”

“Yeah right,” you roll your eyes, unconsciously clutching at the red envelope in your hands - his degrading demeanor only serves to further antagonize him in your eyes, “let’s cut to the chase, what have you been doing lately.”

“And what is it to you?” He laughs, sitting down on his couch as he answers your question, “If you need to know, I’ve been taking a break.”

“Got a lot of free time on your hands now?” But was it enough that he could be pulling this off? Even without work, he’d been studious and hard working, his schedule always packed; would it be possible that a workaholic like him could honestly take a break?

“Not really,” of course not – your heart feels like it had stopped, maybe you’d been wrong –, “I’ve been in therapy and working on getting into some real work, between that and keeping up with new hobbies there’s not much spare time.”

“Hobbies?”

“Yes, like writing,” you wouldn’t have pinned him as a writer, “I thought I could do something with all that mystery experience and write a novel, might as well put that work to use.”

“I guess so…” There’s an awkward silence; he’d been incredibly nonchalant during the conversation, answering all of your questions with ease. 

Maybe you had been wrong about him, but if it’s not him then who

“And what have you been up to? I saw you were taking a break.”

“Oh, uh… yeah,” you didn’t think he’d keep up with your public appearances, “I have been dealing with some personal stuff…”

You both don’t speak after that for a few painfully awkward seconds.

“So you’ve been in therapy?”

“Yes.”

“That’s… good.” Akechi has to muffle a chuckle at your inadequate response.

“No offense, I do enjoy conversing with you but I doubt this is what you meant when you said we needed to talk,” the young man halts your train of thought, “so, why did you call me?”

“Because,” you think about your words, you need to at least ask him about it, you don’t want to sound crazy but there is no way you can breach the topic without sounding slightly off, “you… it’s you, isn't it?”

“Me? You’re not making much sense, I am what?” 

“You’re the one sending me these… letters,” you look at the one in your hand, “it’s got ‘Akechi’ written all over… You know all these personal details and how to get under my skin and who else would be able to sneak in undetected into my room and keep this up for so long? You –”

“Someone snuck into your house?” He feigns surprise, cutting you off mid-rant; he can tell it took you off guard.

“Y-yes,” you mumble, unsure if he was trying to fool you; you had no evidence other than a gut feeling and knowing the guy for years, “and it… it has to be you, there’s no way it isn’t… You’re the only person who could pull this –”

“These are quite serious allegations you’re posing now,” his voice slowly loses its playful tone, “breaking and entering, sending letters too… Do you even have any evidence?”

“Maybe I do…” You stutter out.

“A good detective shouldn’t lie,” he smirks over the phone, your fingers are trembling as he continues talking, “You can’t just call me out of the blue and accuse me of such things, we haven’t talked to each other in months and this is the first thing you say to me?”

“The letters mention things only you would know and it’s all so well done,” why can’t you be more coherent – you want to tell him to shut up so you can finish your train of thought; because if it’s not him then who else, “and you’ve been trying to convince me –”

“I haven’t even talked to you in months, how am I trying to convince you of anything?”

“During that lunch, you said –”

“Come on, it was one conversation and I admit I crossed the line,” he doesn’t let you finish talking before rebutting every single thing you said and it’s starting to rile you up, “but that’s not proof.”

There’s an awkward silence that follows, he can tell you’re getting worked up. You’re panicking, you had spent the last few weeks trying to find any possible clue about Akeshi’s involvement in this mess and yet you had come up with nothing of substance.

“This has really been messing you up, hasn’t it?” His voice is deceptively soft as if he cared about the torment you’d been facing.

“I…” You’re unsure of what to say; you had so many things thought of what to say to him, but it had all been under the pretense that he was the one responsible for what was going on but you had nothing on him other than a hunch and bitter feelings from your last conversation. 

“I have been keeping up with your work,” he takes your silence as an invitation to continue talking, “You’re not doing too hot, huh? Is it because of this?”

“...” He can hear you shuffling.

“If you’re struggling, we can meet up,” he suggests, “I could help you, you know?”

“To quit?” You laugh but there is no humor in it; maybe he had been right, you dully think, after he’d left you’d naturally garnered the support he had once had but it had felt undeserved, your work had been stagnating due to the letters and general feelings of inadequacy as you were made to replace the role Akechi once had.

“To help you with the letters,” he sounds legitimately annoyed and you flinch internally, “Clearly you can’t do it yourself, how long has it been going on for?”

“A couple of months…” You trail off, you feel like a child being scolded by their mother; left to desperately scramble for any excuse for your poor behavior. 

“Months, are you actually being serious right now?” He doesn’t give you the time to respond, you can hear him shuffling, “And you haven’t found anything?”

“Not really,” you gulp, “which is why… I thought it could be you.”

“I’m quite hurt you’d think me capable of that,” you can’t make out what he was feeling based on his tone but his words seem to indicate he was truly shocked at your accusations; guilt begins to form in your gut, “sure, our last conversation was… rough, but I would never dare hurt you, I only want to help.”

His words further cement your feelings of guilt, maybe you’d seriously misjudged him. No, you definitely had; in your years of knowing him he’d been condescending and irritable, but he’d never hurt you. You were the one who’d been overreacting, you had stormed off on him, you had cut him off, you had accused him without evidence and even now, as he offered to help you, you couldn’t help but doubt his words.

“But you,” scrambling to find the right words you desperately try to communicate your concerns but the more you finally voice them to someone the less sure you are about them, “if it’s not you, then who? You… you’re the only one who I wouldn’t catch, right? Because…”

Maybe he had been right, you think, ever since he quit you’d been left trying to live up to the legacy he left behind but you had failed. You’d let yourself become overwhelmed, chasing after a dream you simply didn’t have the chops to live out, and even went as far as to accuse one of your friends of hurting you over a conversation that he seemed to have forgotten.

“I have not received a single assignment that has required me to harass my ex-colleague,” he’s probably referencing his therapy treatment, you think, “I have come far enough to realize I have been childish in my past, which is why I would never do something like sending you cleary distressing notes.”

He continues.

“I am genuinely concerned for you,” he sighs, “which is why I am offering to help you.”

“I…” You’re unsure of what to say, you had been hoping he’d admit to being the man behind the letters, “I just want this to end.”

“I’ll go over, okay?” You vaguely hear him moving around, “Have everything ready, we’ll work this out and, once we’re done, we can talk about your future.”

You hum in agreement, too worn out and exhausted to argue.

“I’ll see you soon,” he’s putting on his gloves as he speaks and slowly opening the bag he’d been carrying, “goodbye.”

“Bye…”

Once the call is ended you throw your phone into the bed and collapse on top of your mattress. You close your eyes tightly, clutching at the papers in your hand. You had shoved the letter back in before reading it, you opened your eyes slowly and glanced at it. You sit up, the springs in the mattress mask the sound of a creaking door and reopen the envelope.

The letter was like all the ones before it, teasing remarks, poorly covered insults, and the spare compliment sprinkled in there. Your brain doesn’t even register what it says, too used to its content to care. You’re about to put it back in when you notice a strange discoloration on the back, you frown. Gently you move the paper against the yellow light from your bedside lamp. The letters are smaller, significantly more rushed, and harder to decipher; you fidget with it as you begin to make out what it says; at least, you try until you hear footsteps echoing through your hallway. You freeze, seemingly losing all mobility as they begin to draw closer and closer until they’re practically at your bedroom’s door. 

There is someone in your house, you realize.

Gloved hands grasp at the doorknob and all you can do is watch in horror as a tuft of light brown hair comes into view.

– “I’m still inside.”

[aangell333]

Got any nikito hcs? Love your work btw!!

OMG BABY NIKTO.

I don’t know too much about him but I can try for you, anon 🩷

- would take him a LONG time to get into a relationship, he strikes me as a very closed off guy

- tends to ignore most people around him, so you’d know if he’s interested when he starts even glancing at you

- the first time he makes anything resembling a move, he passed you a pen during a mission briefing

- poor guy’s hands were trembling and his heart was absolutely racing

- the next time he approached you was while you were making your coffee and he handed you the sugar some recruits had put on the top shelf as a dumb joke

- this time, his shaking hands caused him to spill sugar almost everywhere

- was so grateful when you simply laughed it off and the two of you cleaned it up together

- very domestic indeed

- poor nikto became infatuated with the idea of you being his little housewife, helping him cook and clean around his house

- couldn’t stop fisting his leaky cock that night as he pictured you all dolled up, bent over and on your knees as you scrubbed his floors in a miniskirt

[polin-erospsyche]

I know there wasn’t time in the show, but I would love a scene of Colin picking out/designing the engagement and wedding ring and just see his thought process. Any fic writers out there, please feel free to write us one!

Ok, anon, know that when you send an ask like this to a person who writes fan fiction for fun that person will go "oh what a great idea! I'll have a go at it!" and then you end up with a 2K scene of Polin fluff. It's not exactly what you asked for but I hope you'll like it, especially considering that I haven't written fanfic in the longest of times (preferring playing with my own characters) and I was afraid of writing for Colin and Pen and not make their voice justice. I tried my best and I had a lot of fun writing it!

The quill's scratch against the thick paper resonated loudly in the quiet room. Penelope's thoughts raced faster than her hand could write. The gossip of the last few days created a frenzy in her mind, an unusual state for her. She had been writing for years and had always controlled the words she put down on paper. Yet recently, it had become harder somehow. The growing pressure from the Queen and London’s elite weighed heavily on her. People knew who she was, and she had vowed to use her quill more consciously. There was no more hiding behind her words and her column.

What she had failed to account for were the demands from the ladies and gentlemen. The socialites and aristocrats, with their veiled threats and insistent flattery, expected her to navigate their intrigues and scandals with care, yet with a sharpness that would entertain and inform. Each letter she received and each whispered rumor added to the weight on her shoulders. Her reputation had become a double-edged sword, granting her influence but also binding her to an unwritten contract with her readers. She remembered telling Eloise once that she had power; now she was fully realizing that power always came at a steep price.

She returned her quill to its inkwell on the desk, leaned back in her chair, and let out a long exhale. Her hands momentarily covered her face before gently sliding down to rest on her pregnant belly. Absentmindedly, she twirled her wedding band, tracing the contours of the bee and flower, finding comfort in the familiar ridges of the ring.

“You seem pensive.” The voice startled her from her thoughts. “How’s the writing going?” She looked up to see Colin standing in the doorway, a familiar and knowing grin on his face. He knew she had been struggling to write anything of note lately.

“How’s Thomas?” Penelope asked back without missing a beat. Their son was always a good topic of conversation; the state of her writing, not so much.

"Fast asleep," Colin replied, his grin softening into a tender smile.

"Of course he is. You spoil him too much. Did you know he won’t sleep unless you’re the one putting him to bed and singing him to sleep?" Penelope teased lightly.

"I'm certain that's not true."

"Well, it's been fifteen minutes since you put him to bed,” she glanced at the clock striking nine fifteen, “and here you are already. Yesterday, it took me a good half hour. I think I'm losing in this deal we made."

Balancing their household duties, social and professional obligations, and caring for their toddler had made finding quiet writing time increasingly rare. They had agreed to take turns putting Thomas to bed, granting each other much-needed solitude. Lately, though, Thomas had developed a clear preference for his father's bedtime routine, falling asleep in a matter of minutes, leaving Penelope with very little quiet time indeed.

“I can leave if you need some time,” Colin offered.

“And leave me to face the blank page?”

Colin furrowed his brows and strode purposefully across the room to stand beside her. Peering down at the paper she had been writing on, he remarked, “Calling it blank might be a bit of an overstatement.”

Words had been jotted down, so technically, it wasn’t a blank page. However, it was not a good page, and she could not publish it in this state. Yet she needed to submit something tonight to the printer—the Queen was expecting it.

“I think you’re overthinking this,” he added. “I think you need to step away from your desk.”

“Colin, I can’t. The Queen is waiting. I have to finish writing this tonight. Apparently, I’ve become an entertainer to the Queen and an ear for everybody else’s gossip,” Penelope said with a hint of frustration.

“Weren’t you always listening?”

“Believe it or not, there’s a difference between lurking behind a potted plant, eavesdropping, and having people visit, hoping for a favor in return,” Penelope retorted with a touch of irony.

“I, for one, am very glad you are in the center of the room. Really, you should be in the center of every room.”

At that moment, she looked up at him with eyes devoid of humor, only to meet his gaze filled with love and admiration. For a brief moment, the air seemed to escape her lungs. They had been married for months. They had a child together. They had settled into a routine that suited them both. Yet, sometimes it all still felt like a fleeting dream, almost too good to be true. It was everything she had endlessly dreamed of as a young girl, and now it was real, tangible. She wondered if she would ever fully grow accustomed to the way he looked at her before deciding that she preferred to always be pleasantly surprised.

He gently placed his hand on top of hers, stopping her fidgeting with the ring. Interlacing his fingers through hers, he gently pulled her towards him, and she moved with very little resistance. He slid his arms around her. This close, he smelled of ink and baby powder, a scent so comforting that she felt the tension release a little from her shoulders. Before she had time to fully sink into the safety he provided, she felt him pulling her closer still, slowly leading her away from the desk until they were standing in the center of the room. Tilting her head up to meet his blue eyes, she saw a glint of mischief, as if he was proud of himself for successfully drawing her away from her work. It was as if he whispered to her - it’s all right, the Queen will wait, the words will wait.

“You know how I know you are preoccupied?” he asked, still holding her, his fingers drawing small circles on the small of her back.

���I’m absent.” She bit her lower lip. She knew she had been. There but not entirely, part of her chained to her desk, to the next words she had to write. They were both like this, maybe it was the affliction of being a writer, a wandering mind. But he seemed to have a much easier time concealing his wandering. She envied his ability to be fully present with the ones he loved, giving them his undivided attention as if nothing else in the world mattered. It was part of his charm.

He gave a low chuckle. “No,” he said, to which she raised her eyebrows, so he quickly added, “I mean you are a little...” He paused as if choosing his words carefully, “...away sometimes.” She gave a resigned sigh. She was aware of her distractions, but she really would have preferred not to address them tonight. Before she could entirely withdraw from him, he brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. His gaze still held hers, intense. His breath warm against her skin. Then his thumb trailed over the wedding band she had been fiddling with. “It’s your tell.”

“The wedding ring? Is it a tell that I’m married to you?”

“You play with it when you are anxious or preoccupied. I see you, I know.”

Of course he did, just as she knew his tells. The way he furrowed his brows. The way he sometimes seemed to be searching for the right words. The way his quill hung in the air just so when he was writing, as if ready to catch the next word mid-air. She knew some of those tells, but living together, they had become mirrors for each other. They saw each other, they knew each other—sometimes, she thought, better than they knew themselves.

“I find it comforting,” she said to him, her hand suspended in the air between them. “Even if my writing days end up in ashes, I have this, I have you. It’s a promise that things will be all right.”

“That will not happen. It’s just a new normal, but by now, I believe we are adept at dealing with new normals.” He gently caressed her belly. “I think you’ll be writing as long as you’re breathing, and I love you for it. But for what it’s worth, I’m very glad you love the ring. I was so nervous the day I had it designed.”

“You, nervous? Why?” He had been rather swift in his proposal and securing the rings, but she could imagine him poring over ring designs, trying to guess which she would prefer. She wished she could have told him that it didn’t matter; as long as it was him she was marrying, she would have been happy with any ring. But she particularly loved the one he had chosen, so she asked, “How did you choose it?”

At that, he smiled wider and brought both of her hands up so that the rings were visible, his thumbs gently caressing over them. “This one,” he said, holding the hand with her engagement ring more firmly, “reminded me of you. Its simplicity and delicacy reminded me of your voice in the letters you wrote me. Also, the jeweler told me it symbolized loyalty and faithfulness. This one,” he continued, bringing up her hand with the wedding ring, “was to symbolize the Bridgerton family.”

“Our family,” Penelope chimed in—a representation of the family she had always, in some ways, been a part of, whether unofficially or more officially now through marriage. A family that loved her, and she loved them as her own. A family that had welcomed her with open arms.

“Yes, our family,” Colin agreed, nodding. “I’m not sure why the bee became our symbol, especially considering...” He trailed off, his face somber, lost in a memory he seemed reluctant to revisit. “Well, you know,” he finished, his expression sober. “But then again, in the morning, the world had Hyacinth, and what an absolute force she is—both a joy to us and a threat to the world. So, the bee represents us, a cycle of our family, and apparently it also symbolizes celebration, prosperity, unity, and resilience.”

She looked at her rings and then up at him again. He had never fully explained why he had chosen those rings, but now she understood it better. “It’s a representation of us,” she said.

“Yes, us and what I hope our marriage will be.”

“Resilient,” she said, a small smile tugging at her lips. “We certainly are that.”

“You more than anyone else I’ve known, although don’t let Eloise know I’ve said it.”

Penelope let out a small chuckle. “I don’t always feel resilient,” she admitted, her tone more serious.

“That’s what we do; we’re a team. We remind each other that we’ll find our way. Besides, you’ve faced much worse and come out of it.”

She leaned into him, closing her eyes and resting her head on his shoulder. She allowed herself to be enveloped in the warmth of his embrace, and as they swayed gently in the flickering light of the surrounding candles, she felt the weight of her responsibilities, the demands of the Queen, and the expectations of the ton seep away. For a moment, she was a girl again—not a mother, not a famous writer—just a girl dancing in the arms of the boy she loved, who, by some twist of fate, loved her back just as much and had decided to intertwine his life with hers.

After what felt like an instant but must have been longer for the clock now struck close to ten, Penelope stopped their swaying. “Would you stay? Would you write with me? Or read? But stay until I’m finished?” 

Colin gently kissed the top of her head and whispered, “I’ll always stay with you.”

She rose on her tiptoes, her hand coming around his neck, pulling him down to her. Their breath mingled before his lips found hers, pulling her closer as she let out a small moan. His hands traveled up her back, sending shivers down her spine, while her own hands gripped at the lapels of his jacket before finding their way into his hair. His lips moved downward, along the side of her mouth, down her cheek, then her neck, leaving a hot trail of kisses. His hands grew more frenetic, gripping the fabric of her dress.

“Colin,” she whispered between a protest and a pant, “Colin.”

“Mmmm,” he hummed, the vibration warm against her collarbone.

“I have to finish... the Queen... the printer...”

She tried to grasp for words, for sense and logic, even as she attempted to push him away in vain. Truth be told, if he didn’t stop kissing her now, she wouldn’t care much about anything else besides their own needs and desires. That's how quickly Penelope had become pregnant after giving birth to Thomas.

“Colin,” she said more insistently, feeling her resolve to finish her column hanging by a thread.

“All right, all right,” Colin said, stealing one last kiss before meeting her eyes with hooded dark blue eyes. “One day, I’ll have a word with the Queen.”

“And tell her what? That you’d prefer me in our bedchambers rather than behind my writing desk?”

“Now that’s an idea!” he exclaimed, beaming as if it were the best idea she’d ever suggested.

“I’m afraid she’d find it preposterous, considering she’s the queen and managed to have a plethora of children.”

“Does that mean you’re open to the idea of having a plethora of children?” he asked, playfully stealing her words.

She chuckled, “Let’s have our second, and then we’ll discuss the possibility of having more.”

“Discuss? Because you want to discuss what we’ll do in our bedchambers if having more children is not an option?”

“You know what I’d really like to do right now?”

“No, tell me.”

“Finish it,” she said, looking back at her desk and the half-written piece of paper, “so that we may go to our bedchambers and discuss all of this afterwards.”

He seemed to catch her suggestive look, as he did not protest. Instead, he kissed her forehead before leaving the room momentarily, returning with a fresh stack of paper and settling down at his own desk, positioned next to hers.

Penelope smiled as she watched him concentrate, his eyebrows furrowing in thought. She felt a renewed sense of purpose and returned to her desk. The page was no longer daunting; it was a canvas waiting for her to paint with words. With a deep breath, she picked up the quill once more. This time, the words flowed more easily, each sentence building upon the last. The gossip and intrigues of the ton found their place in her column. She wrote with a clarity and sharpness that had eluded her earlier.

As the clock struck midnight, Penelope set down her quill and read through her work. A smile of satisfaction spread across her face. It was done.

She stretched before standing and walking to stand behind Colin’s chair. Sensing her presence, he had stopped writing, but his focus remained on the page before him. She slid her arms around him, her hands running up and down his chest. She whispered, “Want to go discuss your writing in our bedroom?”

“Absolutely!” he said, rising and kissing her passionately.

[misc-obeyme]

hi! can you make something uuhhh... kinda spicy..? the side characters reaction to getting catch making out/ kissing mc hard?😳

Hi there, anon!

This is by far the spiciest thing I've ever posted here (ETA: lol), but I would still say it's only slightly spicy. They ended up a little longer than I meant for them to, but you know when inspiration strikes, I tend to go with the flow and not question it. Anyway, I hope the spice level is okay and that they're not too cheesy, but either way I enjoyed writing it!

Thank you for the request!

side characters make out with GN!MC and react to getting caught

Warnings: making out, kissing, touching, etc, but everyone stays clothed lol

Diavolo

You had received a message from Diavolo earlier that evening asking you to come see him at the Demon Lord's Castle. Although he hadn't said what it was he wanted to talk to you about, you were pretty sure it was regarding an upcoming event that you were helping him plan. So you made your way over to the castle quickly.

He had been at his desk in his office, working away, when you arrived. He looked up at you as you entered the room, putting down his pen and actually standing up to greet you.

"Thank you for coming, MC!" he said, taking your hand and leading you to a seat in front of his desk.

You sat down as he passed several papers to you. A glance revealed that you were correct - they were about the event at RAD that you were planning. You had some ideas about it already and the two of you launched into a discussion about logistics and such things.

When your talk finally came to an end, you nodded firmly. "Okay," you said. "I'll have all this ready in the next couple of days."

"That would be wonderful, but don't overwork yourself, MC," Diavolo said.

"Don't worry, I can handle it," you said. You stood up from your seat and smiled at him. "Good night, Diavolo. I'll see you at RAD tomorrow."

You turned and walked toward the door. You were about to open it when you found that somehow Diavolo was already standing in your way. How did he get there so fast? But you didn't have time to wonder too much about that.

He frowned, but it was more like a pout and you could see the mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Must you leave so soon?"

You folded your arms and looked at him. "We both have a lot of work to do."

Diavolo couldn't keep the smile off his face. He moved closer to you, settling his hands on your waist. "I know, MC," he said. "But can't we take advantage of these few moments alone? I promise I'll be able to work twice as hard later."

You scoffed at this, but you also felt a smile creeping onto your face. You couldn't exactly refuse those sparkling gold eyes. "I guess I have a few minutes…"

Diavolo pulled you closer, kissing you as your hands rested on his chest. The heat from his soft lips spread throughout your entire body as you felt an electric thrill run through your stomach.

Diavolo began to move forward, causing you to move backward until you ran into his desk. You felt him lift you to sit on his desk and you let out a small sound of surprise, nearly breaking the kiss. Your concern quickly fled as he moved in further, one hand leaning against the desk beside you and one cupping your cheek.

You could feel the flush warming your face and neck as his hand moved from your cheek into your hair. Your own hands gripped the front of his uniform before sliding up to clasp behind his neck.

The hand in your hair slid down your spine slowly before stopping on your lower back. You couldn't help but arch into the touch. This broke the kiss, but Diavolo's lips were now on your neck. You bit your lip as he trailed kisses down your throat.

The door to the office opened with a slight creak.

You froze. Diavolo pulled away, hovering over you, but clearly not willing to completely let you go.

You looked over his shoulder at Lucifer, who stood in the doorway holding a stack of papers in one hand, his other hand still on the doorknob.

Lucifer cleared his throat. "Forgive me for interrupting," he said, his voice full of sarcasm. "I'll just leave these here." He put the papers on a nearby table before exiting immediately, shutting the door sharply with a snap.

You looked back at Diavolo, who was staring at you in surprise. Then he laughed, standing up straight and running a hand through his hair as he did so.

"I'm so sorry, MC," Diavolo said, a light blush across his cheeks. "I'm afraid I got carried away and forgot that Lucifer was coming by. Can you forgive me?"

You sighed. The pool of warmth that had settled in your stomach still lingered, fueled by Diavolo's cheerful response to having been caught like this. "I'll forgive you on one condition."

"Anything for you," he said.

You slipped off the desk, fixing your clothes and hair as you did so. Then you straightened his tie, which had gotten skewed. "Next time, invite me over when you aren't working so we can have the whole evening to ourselves."

"I promise," he said, smiling brightly.

Barbatos

It was a rainy day in the Devildom and for some reason you found yourself craving one of Barbatos's signature cakes. When you asked him about it, he offered to come over to the House of Lamentation to make one for you. That was how you found yourself in the kitchen, watching as he expertly mixed various ingredients to create cake, frosting, and filling. You helped where you could, but really it was best to just watch the master at work.

He had removed his gloves and RAD uniform jacket, rolling up the sleeves of his green shirt. It was really quite enjoyable to watch him as he made the batter or piped the frosting. Barbatos was always smiling and content while he was baking. He was in his element and you couldn't help but stare at him as he moved about the kitchen.

When the cake was finally ready, you waited in anticipation as Barbatos cut you a slice. He placed it on a little plate before using a fork to scoop up a bite. You watched curiously, thinking he was going to sample it himself before allowing you to eat some. Instead, he held the fork out to you.

You blushed instantly, but you held his gaze while you leaned forward and ate the cake off the fork. He waited, watching you.

"It's delicious, of course," you said. "You don't… you're not going to feed it all to me, are you?"

Barbatos smiled, placing the plate on the counter. "Did you think I hadn't noticed the way you were staring, MC? It was quite distracting."

"I couldn't help it," you said. "If you could see yourself, you wouldn't blame me."

Barbatos moved closer to you. He leaned in, not quite touching you. "I came here this afternoon to satisfy your craving," he said quietly in your ear. "But your keen attention has caused a different craving in me, I'm afraid. Won't you indulge me?"

You knew he was waiting for some kind of confirmation from you. He was so close, you couldn't quite focus because your heart was pounding too hard. You opened your mouth, as though you were going to say something, but found that no words came out. So instead you closed the remaining space between you, put your hands on his cheeks, and kissed him.

You felt Barbatos's arms wrap around you, pressing you to him. You kept one hand on his face, but let the other one fall to grip his arm, your fingers coming in contact with his rarely exposed skin. You gently nipped his bottom lip and he opened his mouth for you. Your whole body was warm, a giddy feeling bubbled up in your stomach, and the taste of him was so much sweeter than any dessert.

You felt his hands moving slowly but deliberately up and down your back. The sensation of heat was almost overwhelming you.

You tried to stop yourself, but it was no use. "Barbatos," you moaned his name into his lips and you felt his grip on you tighten.

Your knees were weak and just as you thought you might not be able to stay standing, there was a clatter at the other end of the kitchen.

"Ohhh MC! Barbatos! Why didn't you invite me to this make out party?"

You felt yourself blush intensely as you pulled away and saw Asmodeus walk into the room.

Barbatos smiled at you before letting you go and turning around. "Asmodeus," he said, perfectly composed. "Would you like some cake?"

Asmo pouted. "Are you really going to try to pretend that you guys weren't just making out?"

"Asmodeus," Barbatos said again. He was smiling, but an aura of black and purple had sprung up around him. "Would you like some cake?"

Asmo shuddered. "That cake looks divine, of course I'd love a piece!"

Barbatos began to cut another piece of the cake for Asmo while you picked up your own plate and took another bite. It was as amazing as it always was. Word spread quickly around the House of Lamentation that there was cake to be had. There were no leftovers, especially after Beel showed up. Barbatos was more than happy to make another cake so everyone was satisfied.

Later on, you stood by the front door as Barbatos prepared to return to the castle. He was back in his full uniform, white gloves and all. He paused in the front doorway, taking both of your hands in his.

"Should you wish to enjoy that cake again, I must insist that you come to the Demon Lord's Castle," he said with his usual smile. "Allow me to treat you to a full tea party as well."

You leaned in a little closer and kissed his cheek. "I would love to," you said. "Especially if it's a tea party just for two."

Simeon

You lingered outside the door of the home economics classroom, waiting for Simeon to come out. Many delicious aromas wafted out as the other students filed past you, chatting about the various things they had made during class.

You had just come from seductive speechcraft, where you had received a message from Simeon on your D.D.D. After working out a couple of the typos, you realized he was asking you to meet him here at the home economics classroom so you could have lunch together. He had made something tasty and wanted to share it with you.

Finally, after what felt like forever, Simeon emerged from the classroom with a small box in his hands. He smiled when he saw you.

"I'm sorry if you were waiting long, MC," he said.

"It wasn't that long," you said. "Are you ready to go?"

"Yes," Simeon said, still smiling. "I was thinking we could eat outside. It's a nice afternoon."

"Sure," you said.

You and Simeon made your way through the halls, down the front steps, and through the grounds to a mostly secluded spot surrounded by trees. You both sat down at the base of one of the trees. Simeon carefully opened the box he'd been carrying to reveal a couple of his famous BLT devil sandwiches.

"I made a lot of these today," he said. "I gave most of them to Beelzebub during class, but I saved these for us to have for lunch."

You pulled two devil crush super spicy mango juices from your bag. "I brought drinks," you said.

"That's perfect," Simeon said. "Thank you, MC."

It didn't take the two of you long to eat your lunch, laughing and talking the whole time. When you were finished, there was still time left before you needed to go back to class.

You sighed and leaned back against the tree. "This is so nice," you said. "I wish I could just stay here with you forever instead of going back to class."

Simeon laughed and leaned toward you, taking one of your hands. "Forever? Are you sure you would want to stay with me that long, MC?"

The bright smile on his face and the way his blue eyes were shining caused you to lean closer and say, "Yes. Forever."

Simeon blushed and raised your hand to his lips, kissing it softly while looking up at you.

Your heart began to race. You turned your hand in his and cupped his cheek.

The two of you stared at each other for a few moments before you simultaneously moved closer together, your lips meeting. Simeon shifted so he was on his knees before you, one hand on your thigh and the other still covering yours which remained on his cheek. You could feel his skin flushing beneath your touch.

You opened your mouth without thinking about it clearly, eager for more of him. He responded instantly, if tentatively. You ran a hand through his hair, letting the soft, smooth strands fall through your fingers.

You pulled away briefly for some air and found yourself looking at the soft brown skin of his throat, peeking above the high collar of his shirt. You kissed it and you couldn't resist continuing down to his exposed collarbone and one of his shoulders.

"M-MC-" Simeon's grip on your thigh tightened as he said your name.

There was a rustling in the tree above you and a loud thud nearby.

Simeon sat back and stood up in one fluid motion, clearly surprised. You looked up to see Belphie rubbing at his eyes. He seemed exasperated.

"Can't a demon take a nap in a tree without being disturbed around here?" he asked, giving you both a sleepy look. "You guys better stop making out and get back to class or you'll get detention for skipping."

Simeon sighed and held out a hand to help you up. You accepted the offered hand, letting him pull you to your feet. You saw that he was blushing only slightly less than you were.

You were ready to get on Belphie's case for sleeping in trees, but he was already on his way back to RAD. You turned to Simeon bashfully. "Thanks for lunch," you said.

Simeon laughed and shook his head. "You're welcome, MC. We should do this again. We'll just have to make sure the tree we choose to sit by doesn't have Belphegor napping in its branches."

You couldn't help but laugh, too. It was embarrassing to get caught, but Simeon still looked like he was happy just to be with you. He held your hand all the way back to RAD.

Solomon

You had been in the library at RAD with Solomon for the last couple of hours, reading through a stack of books. He was researching some minute details of a certain kind of spell involving a magic circle, but it was an old spell and there was limited information about it. So you had to look through many old books to see if you could find even a small mention of it.

You closed the book you were currently looking through as you reached the end and realized that you had no more books in your to-read stack.

The library was quiet at this hour of the day. Across the table from you, Solomon was engrossed in whatever book was in front of him. The look on his face was one of serious concentration.

You didn't want to disturb him, but he seemed to sense that you were watching him. He looked up at you, smiled and leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms above his head for a moment.

"Are you done already?" he asked.

"I've gone through all of these," you said.

Solomon nodded. "Come on, there are plenty of other books to look through. I'll help you get more from the shelves."

You got up from the table and followed Solomon. You frowned when he passed by the books you thought he was going to stop at.

You jogged a little to catch up to him. "Um, weren't the books back there?"

"There are more over here," he said. "I think we might be more successful with these."

He stopped in front of the back wall of books and indicated the top half of the shelves. "You can use this step stool to reach them," he said, pulling a little step stool from nearby. "If you want to hand them down to me, we can take back a stack of them."

You stepped up onto the first step and knew immediately that the stool wasn't balanced right. It tipped slightly and you stumbled, throwing out your hands in an attempt to catch yourself.

Fortunately for you, Solomon was there to catch you. However, you then found yourself with your back pressed against the shelf and his arms wrapped around you. You knew he saw the blush that you could feel suddenly spring to your cheeks.

Solomon seemed reluctant to let you go. "Are you all right, MC? I'm sorry I almost caused you to get hurt."

"I'm fine," you said. "It scared me a little, though."

Solomon reached up and brushed back some of your hair, which had fallen forward into your face when you fell. "Let me make it up to you," he said, leaning in closer and pausing, lips inches away from yours.

You took the invitation and kissed him, letting your arms wrap around him, your fingers clinging to the back of his RAD uniform. He responded by pressing into you, keeping a hand behind your back to prevent you from being pushed uncomfortably into the bookshelf. His kiss was hot and heavy, his touch needy.

You felt dizzy, ready to get lost in him and forget about the old books for a while. A twinge of butterflies fluttered through your insides as you felt yourself flushing in response. The heat around you increased, Solomon's body pressed up against yours, one of his hands tracing lightly down your arm.

You gasped as Solomon broke away long enough to move to your neck. You tangled a hand in his hair as he made his way down to your collarbone, biting gently at your skin.

And then someone cleared their throat loudly.

Solomon reluctantly pulled himself away from you, turning to look at whoever had interrupted while straightening his uniform.

Satan stood there, arms folded, looking like he was about to go into demon form on the both of you. "Solomon. MC. What are you doing? This is a library. And I need one of the books you're so blatantly making out on."

You blushed, covering your face with your hands. "Sorry," you mumbled into your palms.

Solomon laughed and took your hands away from your face. "Sorry about that, Satan," he said. "We were just leaving."

Solomon led you back to the table where the books from earlier remained stacked.

"I thought there were more…?" you said.

Solomon shook his head, still smiling. "I think we're done for the day, don't you? We can pick up again another time. Let me walk you home."

You nodded, then stopped when something dawned on you. "Solomon, couldn't you have just used magic to get those books down from the top shelves?"

Solomon laughed again. "I suppose I could have."

You laughed, too. Like he really needed to make up an excuse like that to kiss you. You let him walk you home and made sure he knew as much before you parted ways.

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[iwouldfuckdarkiplier]

aye. hear me out. Darkiplier, as a shadow leviathan from Subnautica, fucking a diver reader. Imagine the utter SEX APPEAL from a giant feral demon fish with a massive eldritch penis. that is all thank you - ✒️💥 (penstrike anon, if the emojis aren't taken)

Added!

[andmineisyellow]

I do have to say, Luke and Nic have been so stellar at portraying two friends with similar humour and are just comfortable with one another, they really have an excellent grasp on how to do that friendly-flirty eye contact (like in the market scene recounting their meet cute) and that makes the willow tree scene (honestly, most things post kiss, as Colon is spiralling away with the longing gazes and Pen's starting to ramp up the desperate glances towards him during her interactions with Debs) with its awkward break in eye contact so much more striking- they went from super comfy and playful to reserved and hesitant, and they both made such beautiful choices with the lingering gazes at one another

the end of the carriage scene with that sweet kiss is also the first time in a while they have that playful gaze back, this time with a besotted edge to it, and it's sooooo, omg, they're so good in these roles, just needed to say that lol

I have nothing to add to this, Anon. I completely agree!

[friendly-neighborhood-mushroom]

authors note: heheh, lets hope this actually works this time. this is my first oneshot, inspired by an anon ( @pingledoofus ) on @the-kr8tor 's blog! im hoping to turn this into a series and give it a backstory if people like it. yes, @pinksugarscrub, i know you want more prowler!hobie stuff, its on its way <3

Tags: farmer!hobie brown x reader, set in yorkshire (yes im showing off my homeland), pure tooth-rotting fluff, happy happy stuff, no use of y/n, sheep mentioned!

anyways, enjoy!

They had told you that a day in the life of a farmer couldn't be easy. There was much to do and not much time to do it in, but you had still pursued your dream, and here you were. Each season brough new things to take care of, and new tasks to complete, which is why you find yourself keeping track of each movement you complete.

You awoke every morning at seven exactly, two hours after your husband- merely saying those words made you giddy- and begin with the allotment to the left of your farmhouse, no matter the weather. By the time you had watered every plant, and taken care that each tomato and apple and pear were in tip top shape, Hobie had tended to the sheep, cleaning out the pens and bathing them and feeding them, before allowing them to graze in the grass.

In this fine morning of spring, there were the baby sheep to tend to, checking their health and tagging their ears to protect them from predators, which he always took care of before you, claiming he knew you’d develop an attachment to them and he wouldn't be able to sell them in the coming winter. You knew he was just as fond of them. 

“Done wi’ plants, love?” He asks, not looking up from the baby sheep he was currently tagging, who was sitting surprisingly calmly on his lap. 

“Mhm, and I baked some bread.” You sit beside him, tearing off a piece. He opens his mouth, expecting you to feed him. You roll your eyes, obliging with a grin. The baby sheep on his lap lets out a sharp bleat, head snapping towards the bread. 

“Nuh uh, missy,” Hobie chides the sheep, “You’ve already been fed.”

You giggle, reaching to stroke the sheep as Hobie sets it down to run off towards its mother. 

“Was that the last of ‘em?” You ask, unable to stop the smile forming on your face as you straighten his chequered shirt collar. 

“Hmmm. Just gotta figure out who’ll buy ‘em in’ winter.” 

“Have you not named ‘em all, already”

“‘Course I ‘ave” 

“You big softie,” You tease, nudging him. He pretends to be mad, biting at the bread in your hand.

“Oi, oi,” you exclaim, “You're becoming one of ‘em!” 

He tackles you, triumphantly grabbing the bread with a loud whoop. You laugh as he falls forward, resting his head on your lap. 

“Honeybee, I’ve got to harvest the carrots-” 

“Carrots can wait,” He sighs, shutting his eyes, ignoring your sickly sweet nickname for him.

“I have four vegetables on my list today, Bee.” 

He ignores you, pretending to snore. You roll your eyes, flicking his ear lightly. He doesn't budge. 

“Robyn needs tending to.”

At the mention of his favourite horse, he stirred slightly, before falling still again. 

“The vegetables-” 

He interrupts you with a loud fake snore. You resist the urge to giggle. An idea strikes, and you place your hands on his face, pretending to give up, before you attack his neck with tickles. He splutters, sitting up immediately and attacking you back, reaching for your waist. He pulls you close and you swat his hands away, expecting more tickles, and melting when he kisses you instead. 

“Love,” He says softly.

“Hobie,” You reply.

“I hope you baked more bread.” He smirks, and you realise he’d stolen it right out of your lap when he’d kissed you. 

“Hobart!”

this also made me realize how similar the yorkshire and south london dialets are when writing, despite them sounding nothing alike!

[jenosbliss]

Hi could I request 5 & 19 with Doyoung for female reader please? 😋

pairing. fem!reader x coworker!doyoung | genre. fluff | wc. 1.3k | warnings. none

a/n. hey anon, hope you like this one!

The clock strike 11.09 pm when you clicked the shutdown tab on your P.C. sighing in relief as your work for today and this week was finally over, so you can spend your weekend peacefully now. No more calls to answer, files to go through, screen to stare at… just a weekend filled with sleeping in late, Netflix, junk greasy food, and calmness.

It was pretty late at night and way past working hours which meant that almost everyone on your floor had already left and the only source of light on the floor had been previously from your dimly lit screen and the night lights on the ceiling. There wasn’t a single sound on the floor except for your steps hurrying towards the elevator.

“Y/N? You’re working overtime again?” a deep voice from behind you asked. A voice which made your eye roll out of annoyance as if on cue. “Hello to you to Mr. Kim. And yes, I am working overtime again. Are you surprised?” turning around scoffed at his fake concern. Both of you were now waiting for the elevator.

“Amused. I thought after becoming the head of R&D you’ll cut some slack… guess I was wrong.” he whispered the last part right above your ear, heat spreading to your cheeks at this action of his. “You’re becoming quite bold nowadays” chuckling nervously as you took a step away from him. A smirk unbeknownst to you adorning his lips at your nervousness.

“Guess I’m following in your steps. You’re working overtime too.” Your eyes searched his tired face as you waited for a reply, he looked worn out and eye bags under his eyes reflected the lack of sleep in his daily routine. His skin also looked paler than usual and- why the hell am I noticing so much?

“Well…yes but it’s not because of work.” He turned his head to look down at you sideways. The look in his eyes made you even more nervous, you felt like a prey, and he was the predator ready to pounce at you any moment. It was hot, hell he was hot, the hottest man alive…get yourself together y/n! 

The safe distance you had created between both of you was intruded by him as shifted closer to you, eyes not leaving for a moment. “What man in his right senses would work overtime without any reason?” opting to sarcasm was your defence mechanism, ever in a situation you can’t escape? Be sarcastic or so you thought because what Doyoung said next made your eyes almost pop out.

“Who said I’m in my senses? For a while now I am going insane because of you-” he was interrupted mid-sentence when the elevator doors opened, and you almost jumped inside. “It’s here!” To say the least, Doyoung was disappointed with the timing of the elevator and how you avoided him in the elevator as if he was a stranger.

“Will you please stop staring?” you had tried your best to ignore him but just couldn’t. “Why? Does it make you nervous when I stare?" A devilish grin made its way to his lips, contented with the effect he had on you. “Doyoung please! What’s gotten into you? Did the work toll on your mental health or what? You weren’t like this before.”

A childish glint appeared in his eyes at the mention of the name. Not Mr. Kim or Sir but Doyoung, he never liked the sound of his name like this before. “I was always like this, it’s just you took time to notice.” again he shifted closer to you making you trapped between him and the wall.

“I’m done okay, do whatever you want.” his laugh reverberated throughout the small space as you scoffed. “Sorry, let’s change the topic.” “Thank you.”

“I liked hanging out with your friends the other day.” he confessed out of the blue. It has been three weeks since that unfortunate event and he just had to bring that up now?

Liked meeting your friends even if you had asked him not to? Accepted he meant no harm and was there just to return the pen drive you left behind but his presence and the tension between both of you had led your friends to assume there way more to the relationship you strictly labelled as coworkers.

“I’ll let them know.” you answered in a monotonous tone. “By the way, that Kiho guy… are you two seeing each other?” baffle would be a predicament to his statement, you were shocked. Firstly, because who was he to ask such a personal question, and secondly how could he think you would date Kiho? 

You had better type than Kiho, and thought Doyoung must be aware that he’s someone you’re interested in- what? Is this the moment of realization for me? WHAT!? 

“No, we’re just friends, not even best friends.” you explained while trying to not focus on the feelings which were surfacing for the man beside you. “You know he was being very touchy and flirty considering you’re just friends.” maybe you’re being delusional or was Doyoung actually jealous?

“It’s because he’s single and we met for the first time after long that he suddenly found me attractive to be his girlfriend. You know Glow Up.” You chuckled, remembering his behaviour during the hangout. “Didn’t he have eyes to see your beauty?” Doyoung grumbled. “I- did you just call me beautiful?” unable to believe your ears you questioned. “Pretty cannot define your beauty because everything about you is beautiful.” 

“Are you doing drugs?” you laughed walking out of the elevator. “Y/n believe me, I saw your college pics, your friend showed them to me while you were away and if I had been there… I would have fallen in love with you way earlier.”

“You can’t be serious right now…” it was happening, Doyoung was confessing his love for you, something –no matter how much you try to deny– you waited for all these days. “Do you trust me?” you nodded your head as he pulled you closer to him, a hand resting on your back while he gently placed the other on your cheek, his breath hot on your face.

“Then trust me in showing you how beautiful you are. I’m so thankful to Kiho and every other guy who didn’t see you the way I do, because I can’t risk losing you. Trust me y/n in worshipping you and loving you. Will you trust me?” he was holding himself from showing you just how much he loved you, how he had loved you all this time, he waited for so many days, but these few seconds felt the longest.

“I trust you.” the moment you said this, Doyoung didn’t even waste a heartbeat before he kissed you, pulling you even closer than before, if that was possible. He kissed you with passion, lips against yours in a heated deep kiss, just perfectly showcasing his undying love for you.

You were the first one to break the kiss in order to breathe but he chased after your lips, laughing as you placed a hand on his chest “Leave something for tomorrow.” He placed a delicate kiss –unlike the previous one– on your forehead before pulling you in a hug.

“I have to make up for all the days I was supposed to be kissing you” he kissed the top of your head as you hid your face in his chest trying to hide the blush. “Are you free tomorrow?” he asked, running his hand through your hair. “Why? Are you gonna kiss me all day?” 

“Hmm… doesn’t sound like a bad idea but I was thinking about going on a date.” perking your head up you smiled, “This is the perfect idea.” he leaned down to kiss you again as he whispered, “I love you.”

navigation.

masterlist. nct127 | nct dream | wayv

100 followers event 🌷

[ofallthingsnasty]

Arlong strikes me as the type to penetrate someone with foreign objects

Anon… your mind. Especially when we’re talking about him keeping you as a little… ‘pet’ - context here. (I got your (?) other ask too but I want to write a little something more for it, so it might take a while!! Thank you for giving me brainworms, you are a treasure)

tw. gn reader, noncon object insertion, ruined holes, free use, dehumanization, violence, read the tags and read them twice seriously

Anything to amuse him, anything to relish in his own cruelty. It’s just another way to humiliate you, to find yet another form of amusement in your body. He loves bottles, especially. How fast can he go bigger, taller, weirder - and how long can you hold them in, which ones make you cry the hardest, which ones will utterly ruin your holes? There is a morbid fascination in watching you grunt and sob and beg while he can see your soft insides through the glass. And once you’ve been trained he gets to laugh about how fucking loose you are, how you’re never going to enjoy human dicks again - because lets face it, they’ll be too small after this. How lucky then, that not only is he massive, no, he has two of them! To him, you’ll still be nice and tight, to anyone else you’re used up and disgusting now. (Not that you’re getting out of this any time soon, but he loves to run his mouth about it. It’s about marking you, ruining you for any other human in existence, to make you submit to him.) He sometimes forces smaller things into you and tells you to hold them - and when they inevitably slip out he gets to laugh and point at the ruined whore in front of him. He’s doing you a favor, really. Did you think he wasn’t planning on forcing both of his cocks into one hole? Don’t be naive, he’s going to get his money’s worth. Shoving a wine bottle into you is just his way of foreplay. Be good and thank him when he does because he doesn’t give a single shit if you tear. It doesn’t end with him, though. He reserves the right to fuck you, but the rest of the crew is more than welcome to slip things into you at their leisure. You learn quickly to duck into some quiet corner when they start drinking again, because it’s when they’re at their most rowdy, their inhibitions dangerously low. They spur each other on in their drunken stupor and more often than not, the night ends in a game of let’s see what we can shove up the human’s ass today. You think bottles and pens are bad? Wait until someone gets the brilliant idea to force half of the fruit and vegetable drawer into you and then pour alcohol straight into the resulting gape, threatening to beat you if you let anything spill. You’re just something to play with, something to raise the morale - truly, you’re just a thing.

[muffinsin]

👀anon here, I've re-read pretty much all of your masterlists at least a few times each at this point 😅 am always impressed with how prolific you are and how good your writing is! Thinking about your dimi hands hc...could I request how the girls would be with a s/o with an oral fixation? They notice initially things like their s/o near constantly having sweets/candy or a pen or a toothpick etc in their mouth but eventually those are replaced with the girls' fingers and maybe other things 👀👀

I’m glad you’re enjoying my works! :) makes me incredibly happy to hear y’all liking it this much🙇‍♀️🫶

speaking of: little info to everyone- Masterlist 3 is now due and out!!

This is a very interesting concept! Boy, have I got some ideas for it!👀 (the referenced hand HC post can be found here)

Let’s get into it!🙌😚

Masterlist 1

Masterlist 2

Masterlist 3

Bela

Bela picks up on your oral fixation first. She’s very perceptive as it comes to the people she cares about, after all

Now, she doesn’t normally mind it

She does remind you of bacteria sometimes, though, and not to nibble on things that could be dirty, even if not so to the naked eye

You’re her partner, her little human. She cares for you. She also tends to view humans as weaker than they are, and doesn’t want bacteria to be the reason you get sick

It starts with nibbling on your thumb or sleeve, your nails even

She has a nervous habit of biting her lip or the tip of her fingernail sometimes, so she barely even notices this at first

Then, she finds that you nibble on the end of pencils as you write and pause between words or sentences

Rarely she even finds wooden pencils with bite marks at the back. She is fast to dispose of those, however, whether they are from you, a maiden or one of her sisters

She doesn’t want them around

In some situations she even needed to remind you not to nibble on the paint of your paintbrush when painting- You didn’t even seem to notice

In other instances, she finds you absently reading with your necklace lifted to your mouth

She wonders, does this fixation of yours also apply in bed?

She knows you enjoy giving her oral. You never turn it down, and are always eager to have her pant from the pleasure she receives

It doesn’t help that she is painfully sensitive most of the time and grows incredibly wet for you

She is somewhat of a meal, really, between her legs

Still, Bela is curious about your oral fixation and thinks of taking it to the next level

The next time you’re intimate, and have your fingers inside of her, she strikes

Bela swiftly pushes her slender fingers in your mouth, three at the same time

For a moment, she’s unsure- did she interpret it all wrong?

No, for she then notices you lick and suck them all too eagerly

It’s a flustering and adorable sight to her

Often, she will randomly make you suck her fingers. They’re strong and thin, and you seem to take a lot of pleasure from having them in your mouth, your tongue swirling around them eagerly

But, it isn’t quite what she has in mind yet

After all, if you must suck on things, there are plenty other options…

The moment Bela grew aware of your oral fixation, she has had distinct fantasies of you sucking her breasts

Her nipples are so sensitive, she can’t help it. She loves whenever you brush your tongue against them during sex, and it has her fantasize of you sucking them even more

Still, she is too shy to randomly bring it up

Again, during sex, when you’re pressed up against her and fondle her breasts, she is too lost in the pleasure to keep her naughty fantasy to herself

With her hand tangled in your hair, she gently guides your lips to her nipple

“Suck it, little one”, she pleads softly

You do not need to be told twice ;)

And Bela? Oh, you draw the sweetest of sounds from her

She makes it a point to have her fingers and breast in your mouth as often as you like. She will never refuse

At times, even, she will randomly make you suck her fingers during the day merely to fluster you

Of course she will not turn you down to do either for mere comfort reasons too

She finds both actions rather comforting too, should they not happen in a sexual manner

Every time you do nibble on something, she will tease you lightly, though

Cassandra

She doesn’t think you have an oral obsession at first, just that- well- you like chewing things

She finds you biting pencil ends as you concentrate

And your fingers at times, even

Or chewing gum (which she DESPISES) for hours

Or perhaps sucking candy at every given opportunity

She doesn’t mind, she just thinks it’s intriguing once she picks up on it

When you start absently sucking the tip of your thumb when you’re concentrating, she crackles

“Maybe you should get a pacifier?”, she suggests jokingly

Never did she think she would become one

Sleeping on top of you has always been something Cassandra likes to do, with her skin pressed tightly to yours and her hand rested on yours

As such, her chest is often close to you-

Cassandra is shocked when she wakes up in the middle of the night one time from a strange feeling around her nipple

Upon looking down, she finds you have it in your mouth, having had her breast pressed up against your chin prior

She shivers and shrieks a little when you bite down occasionally

Mistakingly, she thinks this is foreplay. But when she giggles, she hears no reaction from you. You’re deep asleep

She grants you this for the night, unwilling to wake you, but will absolutely pull her sore breast away the moment you wake up

She is not a chewing toy!

The interaction has her curious, though

The next night, she slips her fingers inside your mouth as you’re barely awake. Call it curiosity

Again, in no time you start sucking them and nibbling a little. She grins at her discovery as she pulls her wet fingers away again

During the next days, she likes to randomly tip your chin and push her fingers in you

“Good pet. Suck them for me”

To clean them, she claims, but there’s nothing to clean, really. She even makes sure they’re blood-free for her precious human

You’re flustered at this, but enjoy it

During sex, Cassandra implements this too- always has, in a way

It’s as if she just takes more notice of it now

How your hands busy yourself on her while your mouth explores eagerly, biting and nibbling on her

Her lips, her jawline, her throat, her collarbone, her breasts and nipples, her ribcage and waist, her hip and her lower stomach, her cunt and thighs, even her behind

She gasps at each bite placed on her unexpectedly. You must really enjoy working with your mouth

She loves to have you suck her fingers, she realizes

During sex, she makes you do so while riding out your orgasm especially

She especially likes you nibbling and sucking her inner thighs

She’s sensitive there

Cassandra still enjoys teasing you about your oral obsession at any given opportunity

She likes to randomly push her fingers in you and watch you attempt to ignore them, only to end up biting down or sucking in the end

Daniela

Daniela is no stranger to a bit of an oral fixation, although hers is not quite as strong

She too enjoys nibbling on things occasionally, especially as she sleeps peacefully

It helps her relax

She loves to nibble on some of her stuffed animals, too, sometimes even strands of her hair

Still, it takes her surprisingly long to pick up this behavior in you

Then again, it’s not something that bothers her. She finds it cute whenever she finds you nibble on something

The only reason she takes proper notice of it in the first place, is because you’re cuddled up together and she suddenly feels you raise her hand, intertwined with yours, to your mouth

You’re nibbling on the tip of your nail, breath warm against her colder and soft hand

She’s a little confused by this, though looking back, she has seen you do it before

Or sucking sweet or sour candy, which she always begs she can have

Or chewing well smelling gum at nearly all times

Or nibbling on your sleeve, until it’s wet

Or biting your lip and licking it over and over again

She wonders- why do you do it? Do you like it for comfort reasons? Or also sexual ones?

Her curiosity and teasing knows no bounds, and so she promptly turns you to her and pushes her fingers inside of your mouth instead

She likes watching them slide past your lips

“Do you like that, my love?”, she asks, genuine, though teasing

You certainly do!

Daniela quickly finds she likes having you suck her nimble fingers. Especially during sex

Her favorite thing to do?

To tie you up nice and snug for her, finger herself and make her cream for you merely to push her wet fingertips in your mouth and make you lick it all off

“Do you like this, my sweet?”, she’ll tease lightly, with a knowing smirk on her soft, painted lips

She loves making you suck her fingers and swirl your tongue around them- it’s addictive to both of you

Out of all things you could suck on her body, she loves having her breasts or cunt sucked best

Her sensitive nipples rested in your mouth, or moans drawn from her when she moves lower at last

In non sexual situations, she grants you to nibble on her whenever you want

Daniela doesn’t mind, even offers getting you a stuffed animal to bite down on sometimes

She also makes sure you always have chewing gum or candy on hand

Even if she wants it for herself

She still enjoys pushing her fingers in your mouth too, if only to see your reaction, then swarm off giggling to herself

[gentlebeardsbarngrill]

04/18/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; Rhys / Bears; LindsCantrell/Ringasunn; Vico Ortiz; Gypsy Taylor; Nathan Foad; OFMD Remaining Billboard; Fan Spotlight: PatchworkPirateBear and Cast Cards; Fuck David Zaslav; Love Notes; Today's Taika/Daily Darby

= Rhysie Darby =

Hey all! As you've probably heard, our beloved Captain will be hosting the Big Bear Week this year! Check out more on Deadline.com Img Src: Rhys' IG Stories

= Linds Cantrell / Ringasunn =

Our lovely crewmate @/ringasunn was given some awesome stills by Lindsey Cantrell our resident ofmd set director, and they were kind enough to share them with all of us! Thanks @/ringasunn! Src: Ringasunn's Twitter

= Gypsy Taylor =

Our favorite costume designer Gypsy shared some unseen pictures of Wee John's socks!! Src: Gypsy's IG

= Vico Ortiz =

Vico giving a shoutout for all the animation they've gotten to do since the lockdown!

Src: Vico's IG

== Nathan Foad ==

More BTS and images of Nathan with Love's Labour's Lost!

Img Src: Nathan's IG

== Our Boys Still Up ==

Thanks @ourflagmeansfanfiction on IG for keeping an eye on our boys on that billboard! Did Max maybe just forget it was there and are still paying for it?

Img Src: Our Flag Means Fanfiction IG

== Fan Spotlight ==

= Patchwork Piratebear =

@saveofmdcrewmates is highlighting our sweet crewmate @patchworkpiratebear! They are a pillar of kindness and are always sharing their artwork and edits to be shared in support of the campaign! Feel free to take a load off and do some coloring! There's lots more on their socials! SaveOFMD Posts: Tumblr, Twitter, IG PatchWorkPirateBear's Socials: Tumblr: @patchworkpiratebear , IG, Twitter

= Cast Cards =

Always happy to see another Cast Card from the lovely @melvisik! Today's is "Mark Prendergast, the court scribe who penned the edict leading to Ed and Stede’s Act of Grace." Img Src: @melvisik Twitter

== Fuck David Zaslav ==

Hey! Looks like there are lots of people pissed at David Zaslav! Sesame Street is going on Strike!

Article Link

== Love Notes ==

Hey lovelies! This one's late, sorry about that, I fell asleep again. Today I wanted to send a reminder that you get to create your own space. You get to choose who's in your crew, and your safe space ship. If you don't feel comfortable, because someone is making you feel that way, you don't have to interact with them. I know it's hard, I know that I often suffer from justice fatigue (and I want so badly to explain my point of view), but it really is important to give yourself some space from the things in this world that are heavier. It doesn't mean you can't come back to them, or you shouldn't care, but remember to give yourself a break.

Tumblr, Twitter, those places have "safety" measures in place through blocking, ignoring certain words, etc to help with this kind of thing, so if you need a break from discussions or politics, or whatever, please feel free to use them. You deserve some joy and rest too. Tumblr is my happy place personally, I love coming here and seeing all the cool meta, fanart, fics, etc, but there have been times where I've felt like I just can't deal with the heavier stuff. It's okay not to interact with it if it's bothering you. It's okay to block people who are attacking you. It's okay to ask for support with it too. I love that there's a way to block anon asks now (not just turning them off, but you can block them last time I looked).

A lot of our lives we're told that we don't have a lot of control, but one thing about these kinds of spaces is, we do get to have some semblance of control on what we see and who we interact with, and there's no shame in practicing self care.

Anyway lovelies, take care of yourselves, we love you and we want you to be okay <3

Some other little things that helped me today:

TinyBuddhaOfficial IG

Adorable Raccoon Memes IG

== Daily Darby / Today's Taika ==

Today's Theme is STAAAAAAAAAAAAAHP, How very dare you look that good.

Gifs courtesy of @kiwistede and @darkinerry