#Thank you sudden surge of motivation

[eruisapenguin]

Yippee update

-⚠︎ anon

[crystallizsch]

i was looking at the official twst character references and had the not-so-random inclination to draw some expressions for yuusha

[koiiiji]

windbreaker characters & their possible love trope (part 2)

warnings : smut part with wooin but i tried to make it more sensual then sexy, prob fluffiest stuff i ever wrote, as usual it might be ooc, not proofed read on your own risk!!)🧣💞🦢

thank you all guys for 287 followers!!(i wrote when it was 260!!) i hope my works makes your day a lil bit better and set some mood. i really appreciate all likes, reposts and especially!! comments and replies, in love with @sugardollie-907 @hjunsjoy @cozyunderworld @dialoguestetatet and wildylisa but idk why i can’t tag((( and so so many other people who comment (but i swear this holy five lives rent free in my comment section and it such a blessing🙏🏻)

thank you to every-everyone who supporting me, my works, it’s so gratifying to come here and see all notifications about your feedbacks!! also want to say thanks to all wb authors who ever posted and posting!! another source of motivation and inspiration🫵🏻😌💋💯🎀

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

vinny - a friend’s sister. you were definetely dom's or jay's sister, and vinny was so annoyed by you in the first place. not because of your personality or you annoyed him directly, but you were that "genious" in your sport, and vinny unitentionally compared you to jay jo, who were gifted with talent from birth. he was angry or annoyed to the point of goosebumps, he didn't even understand exactly what he was feeling, but he understood that this was a very strong storm of emotions and he was fixated on you. honestly? when your brother watches your competitions or casually tells about your successes, Vinny records it in his memory and will congratulate you later(dom as an older brother will 100% hype you up, fight me. he would show his phone to hummingbird crew with tearing puppy eyes “look, my lil gremlin winning those competition of hers”🥹🥹)Vinny would rather die by biting his neck than admit his feelings to someone, so it happens accidentally, maybe your chat went further than congratulating each other on winning competitions or your calls to him to find out where your brother is hanging around today. but because you were tired after the competition, you fell asleep leaving the chat open and not responding to his messages, leaving him on read. not to say that Vinny was offended by you, he just snapped at you for 3 days in a row, refusing to respond to messages. you had to take the situation into your own hands and hold his hand after another training and talk. “ta hell you want?” he said, frowning down at you. “just to talk and clearly” - you explained the situation to him and told him why you didn't answer, but since Vinny didn't know how to apologize and he had certain trust issues, it turned into another skirmish. it was evening and it was unnoticeable how the clouds thickened and the rain began to fall, but it didn't seem to bother two of you much because you were standing and yelling at each other for a reason you both didn't understand. Vinny's patience had always been zero, but now it seemed as if he was on the verge of reaching another stage of rabies. while you were shouting at him that you didn't understand why he started this quarrel at all, he just exhaled irritably and unknowingly blurted out “FUCK! because i was worried about you!!” as the argument reached its peak, Vinny's frustration peaked, his heart pounding with a mixture of anger and apprehension. yet, amidst the chaos of their exchange, a surge of emotion overcame him, compelling him to act on the impulse he'd long suppressed. with a sudden surge of courage, Vinny closed the distance between you, his hand reaching out to cup your cheek. eyes met, mirroring the intensity of emotions, as Vinny leaned in, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. the rain continued to fall, its gentle rhythm enveloping both of you in a cocoon of intimacy as you melted into each other's embrace. Vinny’s body pressed to yours, rain-soaked and trembling, as the warmth of the spring evening mingled with the cool touch of the rain. in that moment, amidst the soft glow of the night lights and the soothing patter of raindrops, time seemed to stand still. the world around you faded into obscurity, leaving only the two bodies locked in a passionate embrace. as your lips parted, a sense of relief washed over, breaths mingling with the cool night air as you savored the sweetness of the moment. in the gentle caress of the rain and the warmth of each other's touch, you found solace, knowing that despite the storm raging around two of you, they were anchored in the calm of their love. as you kissed beneath the spring evening sky, a sense of peace washed over them, the tension of their argument melting away with each tender caress. In that fleeting moment, surrounded by the gentle embrace of the rain and the comforting glow of city lights, they found solace in each other's arms, their love renewed and strengthened by the storm they weathered together.

wooin - fake relationship. he commited it in the first place. since his work wasn’t permanent and he was constantly on the move, hanging here and there, Wooin thought it would be nice to have something permanent in his life. he needed excuse to tell his family why he can’t visit them on weekends - his girlfriend doesn’t feel well. them asking him all this “start a family” questions? sorry, y/n isn’t ready yet. some unforeseen situations? oh, y/n can be his trusted person. something didn't go according to plan? he can rely on y/n, if it isn’t something too difficult or dangerous. as a substitute he will gift you something, or will took you somewhere, thanking you for being his backup. genuinely it wasn’t something like friends with benefits, no, you two clearly share a bond, but it was something on the edge, as everybody thought you were dating. and in fact all this acts, you being his backup, him giving you small gifts, taking you on dates, sharing a bed - it all feels more like a relationship. but you never had this conversation, after another hot sex you could fall asleep together, for sure, but in the morning one of you definitely woke up in an empty bed. of course, it also happened that you woke up together, but in the morning Wooin was simply unbearable, and more often it ended with too caustic jokes. and it was always on the edge, you weren't in a relationship, you weren't friends, you weren't strangers, you were all together at once. at some point, it started to get exhausting. you noticed it first, but Wooin started talking about it first... well not actually talk, but mutter in the crook of your neck… today’s sex was different, the encounter was filled with a blend of sensuality and intensity, both of you asserting your desires while maintaining a balance of power. you bite each other, when it feels like too much, but immediately kissing and licking bite place, each of you tried to get leading role while another didn’t let it happen. today, Wooin's approach was different - not sloppy, fast and erratically, but slower, more deliberate, his touch gentle yet his thrusts firm. you were suffocating in his arms, and it seemed to him that he was drowning in the smell of your hair, your moans, how you trembled slightly from his hands on your chest, hips and neck. Wooin burrowed his nose deeper into the crook of your neck, breathing heavily and sniffing your scent. it was intoxicating, that feeling when you were next to him, when his hands slid over your body, your soft sobs, how the emotions on your pretty face changed depending on his pace. now, with his whole body pressed against you from behind, one hand holding your hip, and the other between your head and the pillow, his palm rested on your collarbones. while he was slowly sinking into you, and you were smiling and almost purring with pleasure, he caught himself thinking that he liked your smile. he likes to spend time with you, he likes to use an excuse in front of his parents and call you his girlfriend. his. Wooin liked the idea of you being his. he liked you. along with these thoughts, his pace increased, now he was digging his fingers into your thigh, and the other hand slid to your breast, squeezing it a little harder. you were both lost in your pleasure as you moaned louder and louder, he pressed his nose harder into your neck, whispering something that you couldn't make out. at one moment, he lifted his head, biting your earlobe, and pulling it slightly towards him, in a burst of emotion, he whispered "i like you"*

kwon - stranger to lovers/soulmetes - for the first time it seemed like someone corsed you. you moved to new flat in different district of Seul and now it was time to transport your stuff from old flat. everything started when you recieved message from a men who drove the car with your stuff, saying that he is stuck on a street because there are some stupid cycling competition and usual road is closed. amazing, you already were so stressed and here some cycling competition, but thankfully in the evening you finally recieved your stuff, mostly some boxes, small and big. when you were about to pick another heavy box you felt that it seemed strangely light. when you rise your eyes you saw a young man around your age. you thanked him for helping and he turned out to be almost your neighbor, one floor above and to the left of your neighbor's wall. next time you saw Kwon Hyeok in evelator…and you two were stuck there…for 3 hours…you were about to meet with your friends and, as you learned later, he was about to pick something to eat in nearest market. week later you met him in random cafe, where you decided to have a dinner alone, the owner of the cafe came up to you, saying that all the seats are occupied, but since you are alone, there was an empty place, behind the bar, just next to a guy your age (the old man grinned and has obviously already married you two in his head) so when you sat down carefully and apologized for the intrusion, you recognized that it was Kwon. you ordered your food and few drinks, and had a nice time together. and after a month of such unexpected encounters, you began to suspect 2 things - either fate brings you together, or he is a stalker. thankfully when you ran into each other again in the same cafe and drank a lot more this time, you admitted that you suspected him, and he, in turn, thought the same - that you were weird stalker girl who followed him around, and in that evening you laughed together from many things. when it was time to leave he understood that you were so drunk that you couldn’t even stand straight, so he took you by the elbow, hugged you with his free hand a little bit higher than your waist and led you home. along the way, of course, you mumbled something about how you like one handsome boy and he seemed like not paying attention to you and probably not even interested and why you're still alone…and then, under the soft glow of streetlights, amidst the hushed whispers of the night, it happened. in a moment that felt both inevitable and surreal, your lips met in a tender kiss, sealing the bond that had been silently growing between you. in that stolen moment, amid the chaos of the city, you found solace in each other's arms, knowing that fate had finally brought you together as more than just strangers in passing.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

* i’m sorry, i don’t really know how to finish this part with wooin, as it already feels too ooc, it was more self inserted, like i was inspired by my latest situationship, bc i was in fucking same situation(it didn’t end well) , and it’s still kinda my roman empire, so i leave space for your imagination… if u don’t mind of course…🥹

[pastel0rchid]

A Gift from the Gods (2)

Hiccup x F!Reader

Word Count: 2.2K

Warnings: Wounds and blood

A/N: And we're back! Thank you to everyone who has been so patient while I muster up the motivation to finally sit back down and write. I'm so sorry that it took so long, as I was struggling with studying for my content exam (which I passed! Yay!), but also a lack of creativity. I finally bucked up and put on a music playlist while writing to my heart's content, and this is the product. I hope you all enjoy it! Until next time <3

Previous Chapter .~.~. Next Chapter

His questioning words linger in the air for a few minutes, nothing following but an uncomfortable silence occasionally broken by heavy panting from the previous chase. The wound on your upper arm throbs in pain. His grip was tight, something you’d never expect from someone as scrawny looking as him. Your eyes remain locked with one another, your heart thundering in your chest as the reality of the situation hits you like a ton of bricks.

You had gotten captured.

Suddenly, the sound of familiar screams and the scent of familiar smells fills your senses as you comprehend the realization. The acrid smell of smoke fills your nostrils, even though there is no fire around you, and the sweet scent of what used to be your mother’s favorite flowers brings a fresh wave of tears to your eyes. The memory of your mother screaming at you to run while she and your father barricaded the door to your once quiet home. Your senses overload as you can hear your mother and father both pleading for you to run, for you to hide, for you to save yourself.

As memories of your parents' desperate pleas flooded your mind, a surge of adrenaline mixed with fear propelled you into action, your heart pounding so loudly you couldn’t hear anything else. With a swift motion, you whipped the end of your wing towards Hiccup's head. It slices through the air before making contact with a satisfying thud. His body is thrown off of you with a grunt, and you take in a desperate breath, your lungs now free from his weight. You barely had the chance to see him hold onto the side of his face, to see the pain flash in his eyes as he watched you quickly turn onto your hands and knees.

You could faintly hear him in the background pleading with somebody, saying that you were just frightened and didn’t mean to hurt him. His words never registered. The only thought on your mind was to run and to hide.

Your wings didn’t even have the chance to spread to give you your freedom before a blinding pain erupted at the base of your skull as a blunt object made contact with it, sending shockwaves of agony through your entire body. Darkness crept into the edges of your vision as you fought to stay conscious, the world spinning before fading to black. Your parents’ desperate pleas continue to whisper to you as you go unconscious.

—

Your mind slowly returns to the conscious world with a dull throbbing on the back of your head increases. The feeling of something coarse and rough wrapped tightly around your wings and wrists makes your eyes snap wide open, the pain quickly forgotten while being replaced with dread.

Your eyes flick around the room and take in the new surroundings, teeth grinding together as you begin to struggle, the rope around your wrists digging even deeper into your skin.

The room was dark, except for the lonely candle flickering beside the little bed of furs where you were placed, bathing the surrounding area in a warm glow.

After taking in the room, you begin to check over yourself.

Your wrists were bound together in front of you, the rope going behind you to wrap your wings shut against your back. Flexing your wings, you find that it only causes the rope to tighten even more. The cut on your arm from Stormfly’s spine had been bandaged, a few patches of blood staining the cream-colored cloth.

The sudden sound of a door opening causes your gaze to snap towards the intruder, the movement so fast that it aggravates the throbbing in the back of your head. In the doorway, the sun casting a halo of light around him like he was some savior to your darkness, stood the brunet from earlier.

In one of Hiccup’s hands, he held a small wooden bowl, your nose instantly picking up an acrid smell that causes it to bunch up. In the other hand, he carried more bandaging cloths.

He freezes in the doorway when he notices you awake and staring at him intently.

Your eyes follow his movements, slow and methodical, as he begins to walk towards you, leaving the door open to give much-needed sunlight. He moves as if you were a wounded animal, afraid you would scamper off further into the building if he moved too quickly.

“I tried to convince them to keep you untied, but it’s pretty much impossible to change the mind of a Viking like my father.”

A small chuckle leaves him at his words, almost as if his amusement would help relieve the thick tension between you. He keeps his tone gentle like he was talking to a frightened child, his eyes locked on your own as he kneels beside where you sit. Now that he was closer to you, the candlelight illuminating his face, you noticed the red welt that spanned from the middle of his right cheek to the middle of his nose.

Internally cringing, you feel a tug of remorse at remembering that the wound was because of you, but the other part of you feels a tiny sense of pride for landing a hit on your presumed attacker.

Hiccup begins to set the bowl and bandages between the both of you, glancing between your eyes and the wound on your arm.

“Can I rebandage that for you?”

Your intense gaze turns quizzical at his question, having not expected him to ask for permission. You silently observe the man before you, like you are searching for an ulterior motive for his kindness towards you. You can’t find any as you stare deep into his green eyes.

They reminded you of the grass fields you used to run through with your parents, the leaves from the trees that you would perch yourself in while playing with the dragons on the island you lived on for all of those years.

His eyes feel like arms opened wide as they welcome you home.

These thoughts scared you.

Even with the worry coursing through your veins, you move your body slightly so your bandaged arm can be closer to Hiccup, keeping your eyes on him and watching every move he makes. Taking this silent invitation, Hiccup begins to unwrap the soiled cloth around your arm, a grimace flashing across your face when the bandage tugged against your skin from where the dried blood connected it.

His soft apology could barely be heard over your mind beginning to wander while starting to shift your wings. In your earlier struggle, you had moved your wings too fast, causing the ropes to tighten around your wrists, but now that you were moving your wings around slowly, you started to notice flaws.

Your eyes remain locked on his hands as they grab a pre-wetted cloth, wiping down the dried blood around the wound, as you continue to shift your wings, making it look like you were just trying to adjust them.

Hiccup grabs the orangey paste in the bowl, the smell just as bad as it was when he stood further away, slathering it all over the wound before wrapping a fresh bandage around the cut.

“The paste is something Gothi made, she said it should help with the healing process.” He explains while sitting back on his haunches after tying off the bandage cloth.

He didn’t seem to mind your silence, taking it and the fact that you weren’t actively fighting back against him as progress. You move your eyes from his hands on his lap to his own, keeping his gaze as you shift your wings.

His gaze turns into confusion at your actions, before slowly widening in shock as the ropes become displaced. He tries to hold his hands out to stop you, noticing your eyes widening with glee.

“No, wait! Wait-!”

You ignore his hurried pleas as the rope falls from where you manage to move your wings out from under them, though your wrists remain bound before you. Your wings spread behind you and give one strong flap, which causes you to shoot into the air. The force of it even knocked Hiccup onto his butt.

Flying towards the door, you slam your body against it to open it even more. You had turned your wounded arm towards the door and didn’t care about the stinging sensation that trickled through the wound on your arm.

Shocked cries and yelling fill your ears, but you pay them no mind, only focused on the sight of the cloud-filled endless sky. You could hear Hiccup yelling as he ran out of the building you had been placed in, but that was ignored too.

Your freedom was within reach, just at the tips of your fingertips.

You were suddenly yanked from where you were flying, the rope around your wrists being grabbed as it dangled below you. Gaze snapping down to whoever was holding you back from escaping, you find a large Viking holding the rope with one hand.

You immediately noticed an auburn-colored beard that was just as vast as he was. While meeting his sharp gaze, you are instantly aware of how similar his eyes are to Hiccup’s.

He only keeps your gaze for a small second before giving a deep grunt and wrenching you towards him, the strength so much that you didn’t have time to fight against it before tumbling towards the ground.

A croak of pain leaves you as your body thumps against the earth, thankfully landing on the unwounded arm. A crowd quickly swarms around the two of you while the Viking keeps a tight grip on the rope.

Scrambling to your feet, your wings remain spread and open as you gasp for air, your lungs burning with exertion from the pain throbbing all over your body and the distress coursing through your veins. Any time you flapped your wings to try and take off again, the man would tug you closer, his grip on the rope shortening the distance between you.

You struggle against the rope wrapped around your wrists, your breathing becoming more ragged as the man towers over you.

The small comfort from being with Hiccup had quickly disappeared in the presence of this Viking. This was the man your parents had warned you about, the look in his eyes was something you had always feared to be aimed in your direction.

Hostile and aggressive.

“Dad! Stop!”

Your eyes glance over towards where Hiccup had pushed through the crowd, moving to stand beside the man who was his father. Your chest rises and falls rapidly as you glance between Hiccup and his father, the pain and the fear slowly becoming too much.

The crowd felt like it was drawing closer and closer, the whispering amongst them becoming louder and louder. You could see Hiccup glancing over at you as he talked to his father, but his words didn’t register, only a ringing that was quickly invading your hearing.

A sudden touch to your wounded arm causes you to recoil, your gaze torn from the father and son duo as the ringing slowly dissipates and your attention is brought to the short, older woman standing beside you.

She begins to observe you, one hand holding her staff while the other pokes and prods at you. Your eyes watch her curiously, your breathing slowly returning to a normal rhythm. When she moves to grab at your wings, you shut them quickly and pull your lips back to reveal your sharpened canines.

This little move of hostility does nothing to deter the old woman as her observation is quickly turned to your mouth. Her fingers graze over your fangs, pushing the edges of your mouth as if she were seeing if any other teeth were sharpened. You yank yourself away from her grip, your anxiousness quickly turning into confusion at this woman’s actions.

The woman responds with a small ‘hmph’ before her gaze is set on the bandaged wound on your arm. She tuts at the sight of it before gripping her staff and starts drawing familiar symbols in the dirt.

You had seen these before from the elder in your village before the attack, having to have somebody translate the words to the people.

A stout man with a blond beard stepped forward, his most noticeable features being his hook for a hand and a wooden peg for his foot. He leans over beside the woman and begins to read the symbols while occasionally glancing at you.

“She says that ‘You’ve opened the wound, I’ll need to ditch it’- Ow-!”

Your eyes widen as the woman suddenly hits the man over the head, her eyes forming into a glare as she looks up at him.

“Stitch! She’ll need to stitch it.” The man says while rubbing the part of his head that the woman had smacked with her staff.

While the man mumbled something under his breath, you moved your attention to your wound. Your eyes widen in shock at the sight of blood slowly dripping out from under the completely soaked bandage, the paste leaking with it.

Before anyone can react, the woman uses one of the many dragon teeth tied to her staff to cut the ropes around your wrists, gripping onto one of them before dragging you with a strength you wouldn’t have expected her to have.

You glance over your shoulder towards Hiccup and his father, finding him staring back at you while his father talks with the translating Viking, tossing him the rope before pointing at you as an order to follow.

All Hiccup manages to give you is a small, nervous smile.

How reassuring.

Taglist:

@spiderlily-w1tch-blog @millie--billie @persipeoni @honethatty12 @oscarissac2099 @up-l4te-4t-n1ght @morishitoshi @nctikki

[bring-forth-his-sac]

Hiiii I’m the anon who sent the ask about whether I could send a request even tho it might take a while so I don’t forget!

I always have ideas for fanfics but I cannot write for the life of me 😭 so if you don’t wanna write this it’s all good :)

so I had an idea where it’s a non-apocalyptic world & the reader/character is famous? like they’re a singer & they just started dating negan & he hears the songs they wrote about him & it’s just fluffy? again you don’t have to write this it’s just an idea I had 🥺🫶🏻

sorry this took so long!! thank you sm for your patience <333 also my friend helped me with the actual lyrics in this which I am so grateful for because I don't have a musical bone in my body

pairing: Negan x singer!Reader

tags: alternate universe, established relationship, fluff, modern AU, famous AU, love songs, Negan needing to mention his dick in every convo lol

word count: 1.7k

It’s still early in the evening and yet there’s snores coming from the other room.

Negan sits on the sofa, legs stretched out. He was waiting for the melodic sounds of your piano to waft out of the room but after a few minutes, all that has emerged from your study are soft snores.

He debates going in and disturbing your solitude. While Negan knows you wouldn’t mind his company, he likes to give you your own time to indulge in music. 

Music has always been a big part of who you are and it’s something Negan has supported from the beginning.

He understands that for you, music is like your personal diary, a sanctuary where you pour out all of your emotions and transform them into a heart-wrenching ballad or the catchiest pop song he’s ever heard. 

With another snore drifting out from your study, Negan sighs and gets up. 

As of recent, you’ve been consumed by a wave of newfound inspiration, tirelessly working on numerous songs. It’s as if lightning has struck, igniting a sudden surge of motivation and encouraging you to put your heart and soul into your work.

Piano keys, the strumming of guitars and your voice has filled Negan’s ears as you put finishing touches on song after song. 

Even though he's been eager to hear a sneak peek, you've chosen to keep the new songs private until they're complete. Nevertheless, Negan has already tried to convince you otherwise. He can’t help it, as soon as he knows you’re crafting some new song, he wants to know everything about it.

But you’ve always remained steadfast and not let him have a sneak peek, even when he gives you those puppy dog eyes.

Creeping into your study, Negan’s eyes immediately go to your figure. Slumped over your desk with loose papers everywhere, you greet him with another snore. Negan smiles at the sight, immediately deciding that you need 100% relaxation for the rest of the night.

He weaves his way through the room, making sure not to step on the fallen guitar picks that have found a home on the fuzzy carpet. The walls of the room are lined with empty cases of instruments, music stands that have been pushed aside and Negan’s favourite armchair.

It’s what he always sits on whenever you invite him in to listen to what you’ve been working on. Although there are some more steamy memories too that truly cement it as being his favourite leather armchair.

Negan approaches your desk silently, careful not to disturb your peaceful sleep. Your laptop hums with life, displaying what he assumes must be a compilation of beats that are on the verge of being made into a cohesive rhythm. Making sure everything is saved, he shuts down the laptop for the night.

“Baby,” he nudges you carefully “you keep sleeping like that and you’ll be complaining ‘bout a bad back in no time”.

You respond with a soft grunt, your fatigue winning as you stay asleep.

Negan chuckles, finding your determination to nap utterly adorable. He takes a casual look around your desk, skimming over the various musical notes jotted down that he can't make heads or tails of, until he spots something else.

Lyrics.

Small fragments of verses, written out on scrap pieces of paper and sticky notes. His eyes impulsively scan what he can see, yearning for that sneak peek you’ve denied him.  

Moving carefully, he picks up one of the sticky notes and reads it.

“In every moment, I feel the spark. You’re the love that lights the dark”.

Negan has seen you weave song about your past experiences and the people in your life, but never has he thought that he might become the subject of your next ballad.

He glances down at your sleeping form as if you’ll pick up on his questioning look. Not fully believing it, Negan grabs another sticky note.

“A leather jacket, stories untold… with that smirk, you take control”.

As it is written, so it shall be. A smirk graces Negan's face as he looks down at the paper, slowly nodding to himself. Jackpot. 

You’re finally writing a goddamn song about him!

Negan doesn’t want to say it’s about time but he’s definitely been thinking about you serenading him with his own song for a while now. He blames his ego for that fantasy.

“Oh darlin’, you writing this for me?” He asks with a grin. Negan lets the sticky notes fall back to the desk and he wraps his arms around you, his chest against your hunched back and embracing you in a hug you don’t even know you’re in.

Feeling his arms around you, you slowly begin to come to. Your eyes flutter open, instantly feeling comfortable. 

“Negan?” You mumble groggily, your brain still waking up.

He hums, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek “Your world just light up?”.

“Wh-what?” a confused pout forms on your face as you move your head to look at him.

Nuzzling in by you, he reluctantly pulls back just enough so he can gesture to the first set of lyrics. “I mean, I am the love that lights up the dark, right?” he grins.

Your tired confusion suddenly shifts to panicked realisation, instantly straightening up. “Negan! Did you— No!“ you babble on hurriedly, your eyes darting to the notes on your desk “You can’t read those!”.

“Oh sweetheart, I think it’s too late for that,” he kisses your head before standing upright “and for the record, I am honoured to be your muse”.

You roll your eyes, knowing that you can’t be annoyed when you’re the one leaving bits of your next song scattered across your messy desk.

“I never said you were my muse” you point out.

Negan thinks for a moment, slyly looking for another scribble of lyrics. “Every word is his weapon, every laugh’s a tease, but in his dangerous charm is where I find my release” he reads out another excerpt, spotting it marked with musical notations.

“Hey!” You quickly try to cover the entirety of the desk, your arms spreading out over as many sheets as possible. You pout up at him, your bottom lip jutting out.

“What? I like it, it’s a good thing” he assures you, kissing your pout away “about time you let them damn fanboys know I’m your one and only. Maybe now they’ll fuck off and stop bombarding your DM’s”.

With a scoff, you warily stand and try to clear your desk. Gathering all the papers into a somewhat neat pile, you defend “Those are my fans you’re talking about!”

With a smug smirk, Negan lays a single finger on top of the stack of notes “And it’s me you’re singing about, so they can kick rocks”. 

You feign annoyance but it’s clear just how much this means to him. If you’re being honest, you weren’t sure how he’d react to a song about him. 

Despite Negan always being supportive, you weren’t sure if that extended to a pure love song all about him. A part of you was scared he would think it’s cringe or too much, but the look on his face says the opposite of that.

Maybe it’s your exhaustion but it’s as if Negan radiates a soft glow, reflecting the pride he feels. Those damned eyes, a perfect swirl of hazel hues makes you melt.

“Hmph… suppose you have a point” you let him take the win, giving him another kiss. 

“I always do,” he replies, leaning into your kiss “now, how’s about we have a nice relaxing night of being couch potatoes. Sound good to you or do you want to go back to snoring on your desk?”.

You can’t help but huff, denying his claim as you stretch your tired limbs. "I do not snore!" you protest, defensive humour lacing your tone. 

Negan wraps an arm around your waist, in case you’re unsteady on your feet considering you just woke up .

“How would you know? You’re asleep when you do it” he replies, helping you step over things within the messy study.

“But I don't…” you trail off, yawning.

He lets out a light laugh at the timing of your yawn. “What? Don’t sleep or snore?” Negan teases “it’s alright, darlin’… snoring is like singing in your sleep, it’s your musicality! Damn, I guess that’s means you’ve been giving me a private concert for the past twenty minutes”. 

It’s tempting to resist his claims but you give in to the small smile that tugs at your lips. No matter what, Negan has a way of turning every aspect of you into an endearing quality, constantly finding ways to appreciate even your most mundane traits. It’s a talent, truly.

Relenting, you lean against Negan, allowing yourself to melt into his embrace as you both move towards the door.

“Y’know, I could always help with the song too” he offers, making you laugh in an instant. 

“You? Co-write a song?” You question, turning off the light and wandering back through your home, Negan still side by side with you. 

“Yeah, I was thinking something like…” he thinks for a moment, mentally arranging the words in his head before saying “when my guy sees me, he gets hard as a brick, but how can I be mad, when he’s got that big dick”.

He gives you a grin, utterly proud of his lyrics.

You giggle, expecting no less from him as you drag Negan on to the couch with you. “Oh wow, I didn’t realise I was dating a poet” you praise.

“What can I say, doll,” Negan nuzzles in beside you “you’re not the only one full of surprises”.

With a wink, Negan gives you one last kiss before you both get comfy on the couch together, ready for a night of relaxation.

[starskullz]

progress on a new project of mine.. i wanna draw every stardew npc (with a few exceptions, i draw what i want ok)

havent worked on this for a couple days but i feel a sudden surge of motivation so. have what i Have done thus far. starting with the marriage candidates i've done so far! (leah, maru, penny, sam, sebastian, abigail, then im gonna re-do shane) NON-MARRIAGABLES BELOW THE CUT

then the other npcs ive done ! (willy MY LOVE, gus, robin, linus, gunther, sandy)

ok yeah thank you :3 might work on this again tonight

[blankwashed]

Rules R Rules (II)

(description: after being forced out, toji heard your cries from your husband abusing you, the clan leader, naoya. he knew he had to save you from being abused. a change of events would happen, but would it be in your favour?)

the previous chapter (smut here)

(warning: some fighting scenes here)

(a/n: there's no actual smut here but i guess i want to finish the development between y/n and toji. just some adulterated language and the slight r*** in the start from naoya)

you clawed at the carpeted floor, screams of pain tearing from your throat. it had been a long time since naoya had unleashed his anger on you, your body…

“i-i don’t understand, naoya! you were fine with it at first—” your words were cut off as he rammed into you with such force that you nearly fainted.

“you…you only need to enjoy fucking ONE person, and that’s me. did you think I was letting you have pleasure? did you forget who you are and who you’re married to?” he growled, positioning himself behind you to continue his assault.

your sobs echoed down the corridor, reached toji, who stood there, paralyzed by indecision. he knew the consequences of defying his leader—banishment, or worse, execution. yet, the sound of your cries, filled with unbearable pain, cut through his heart. you were possibly the kindest person in the mansion, always giving desserts and things that were restricted to the army soldiers. it always made the military personnel feel at home and motivates them to do their best.

was it worth it? were you worth it?

your wails sounded like you had a physical blow, as painful as being shot in the chest.

empathy surged within toji, mixing with the trauma of past horrors. he remembered the fate of the last mrs. zenin, a haunting memory of what could happen if he did nothing.

toji knew he had to act. he couldn't stand by and let history repeat itself. he knew he needed to summon his courage, he resolved to do something. anything.

toji took a deep breath, ready to do what he never expected he would've done. he couldn't let fear paralyse him anymore. he's seen and heard too much pain, straight up cruelty.

he hesitated for a moment before pushing the door open, the sight confirming his thoughts.

"sir, stop!" toji's voice was shaky but firm. his heart pounded in his chest. "you've gone too far. she doesn't deserve to be treated like this!"

naoya looked at him, his expression twisted with rage. "what the hell do you think you're doing, fushiguro? this is none of your business,"

toji didn't look away but stared at his leader. "i know i am just one of your soldiers, but that doesn't mean i would let you hurt her......anymore,"

for a moment, the room was filled with tense silence. you were still sobbing, legs torn apart, wondering whether shoko would be able to heal you.

without warning, naoya lunged at toji. rage was driving his actions. but toji was ready. his years of training and his suppressed anger fueled his response as he blocked naoya's attack and pushed him back.

the sudden brawl was intense. toji fought with ease as if this was one of his training sessions but all in all it was driven by the need to protect you. but naoya was consumed with his own rage and sense of betrayal.

"you think you can defy me?" naoya spat, charging again.

toji sidestepped, grabbing naoya's arm and twisted it behind his back. naoya grunted in pain but managed to elbow toji in the ribs, breaking free from his clutch.

you noticed both of their eyes locked and breathing heavily.

naoya grabbed a nearby vase and threw it at toji but thanks to his good reflexes he dodged. toji was quick, he threw rapid punches at naoya without thought of what would happen later.

finally, with a kick to the chest, toji knocked out naoya to the ground. he pinned naoya down, "this ends now, this is a revolution against you,"

toji looked over at you, still on the floor, trembling. "it's over," he said softly, hugging you from the back. "you're safe now," he said, trying to convey reassurance through his words.

you looked over at noaya, struggling as his body was in pain. toji knew that this was only the beginning and he made a choice that have dire consequences. but for now, he had stopped the immediate danger that harms you and that was enough for him.

"we need to get you to shoko," toji said, helping you to your feet and dressed you up in your torn clothes. "i'll protect you, no matter what. you can trust me,"

"shoko...shoko...i need to get to shoko..." you ached and held onto your bleeding wound. you saw toji wore his clothes that were left astray on the floor.

he nodded and carried you all to shoko's office. toji's heart raced with anticipation. he knew that revealing the truth to shoko might bring its own challenges, but it was a necessary step towards ensuring your safety and seeking justice for what you had to endure for all these years.

toji buzzed her door multiple times in a rhythm that copied his beating heart. after a moment, the door opened, revealing a surprised shoko.

"toji? y/n? what's going on?" shoko's voice was laced with concern as she took in the sigh of you, bleeding and toji that was carrying you securely.

toji took a deep breath, readying himself for what he was about to reveal. "shoko, we need your help. It's about naoya, firstly can you attend to y/n? i'll tell you what happened,"

despite the aching pain in your lower half, you glanced at toji, your savior at this point. he retold the events that had unfolded, the strange invite into the room and the pain you had to go through. shoko listened intently as she was healing your bleeding parts.

there was heavy silence in the room, broken only by the sound of your aches.

"i'm so sorry you had to go through that," she said softly, her voice filled with true concern. "but thank you for revealing this to me, we need to address this immediately. you have been treating everyone in this household with compassion and care, we all know naoya's personality. his authoritarian rule needs to be stopped. "

toji nodded, his gaze at you unwavering. "we can't let naoya continue to harm you, he needs to be held accountable for his actions,"

shoko nodded in agreement. "i'll inform the others and we'll figure out the best course of action. all of us, the medic and army team are ready to give you the help and support you need."

as toji and shoko discussed their next steps in this uprising against naoya, a sense of relief washed over you. you were no longer alone in this fight. with both the medic and army team by your side, you felt a glimmer of hope for your future. Justice will always prevail.

meanwhile, naoya lay on the floor, his body racked with pain and his mind alaze with fury. he could hear murmurs growing louder, the whispers of a rebellion echoing through the walls.

despite his weakened state, an aura of anger filled his room. he felt that he has been slapped in the face, that his authority has been stepped on.

gathered in the hall were members of the household, servants, soldiers, cleaners etc. they had endured naoya's tyranny for too long and now, they were ready to rise up against him.

"toji was right," one of the soldiers spoke up, his voice steady despite the underlying anger. "we can't let naoya continue to terrorise us. treating us like garbage. it's time we put an end to this. we've got your back, y/n."

their faces set with determination, a collective decision to confront naoya and to end his reign of authoritative abuse once and for all. they moved together as one with toji leading the group.

toji led the way with a dead-pan expression. behind him were you, shoko with her medical kit in hand, ready to tend to any wounds that might worsen as time pass.

the door was ajar with the tension the the air that could send chills down your spine. naoya was still sprawled on the floor, struggling to rise with his face contorted with pain and rage while he glared at the group assembled before him.

"why are all of you here?!" naoya spat, his voice hoarse but still filled with venom. "return to your quarters, all of you!"

silence. no one moved. you swore it was a pin drop situation.

everyone had endured enough.

toji stepped forward, his emerald eyes locked onto his "leader". "naoya, your reign of terror ends here. we will not stand by and allow you to continue to abuse your power. i have been here since day 1 and i have seen you hurt too many people."

naoya's eyes blazed with fury. he tried to push himself into a sitting position but his body failed him, collapsing back to the floor. "all of you dare to challenge me? i am your leader!"

"not anymore," another voice called out from the crowd. it was you. your voice was filled with pain and relief. a relief that after all the years of being ruled with an iron fist, its coming to an end.

"you think you can overthrow me?" naoya said, still being in his own authoritarian world. "you'll regret this, all of you!"

toji took another step forward with naoya in his grasp. "no, naoya. the only one who will regret anything is you. you will face justice for what you've done,"

kind hearted shoko moved to the front, her voice gentle. "it's over naoya. you need me to help you, your bruises might be unmanageable but your tyrant over us is finished,"

still not giving up, noaya tried to rise once more but his body gave out, leaving him panting on the floor. the sight did hurt your heart but it was time for him to learn that everything that goes around, comes around.

toji signaled to a couple of stronger guards to step forward to restrain naoya. there was no need for further violence, the group of people united against him ensured that he would not escpe.

as they carried naoya away, toji looked at the remaining people in the group, with relief bubbling in his chest. "we all did this together," he said. "we are free from his reign of terror."

the group hooray-ed, some were even able to leave the mansion and return back to their own families. toji turned to you, his expression softening. "you're safe now," he said, his voice filled with promise.

in the days that followed after naoya's downfall, the mansion was flurry with activity. people eager to rebuild their lives after the intentional slavery. toji and you worked side by side, the bond between you growing stronger with each passing day.

toji's protective nature extended beyond just ensuring your safety; his gentle words and quiet strength were a constant source of comfort and you found yourself relying on him more and more.

one evening, as the sun was setting, toji approached you in the garden. the air was filled with the scent of blooming flowers, courtesy of the royal gardeners.

"y/n," toji began, his voice soft, not wanting to alarm you. "i know we've both been through a lot, but i want you to know that i'm here for you. not as someone who helped overthrow naoya but as someone who truly cares about you."

your heart swelled with emotion as you met his gaze. those emerald green eyes and the scar beside his lips made your heart swell with emotion. "toji, you've been my rock through all of this. i don't know what i would have done without you."

he took your hand in his, his touch radiating warm and reassuring. "together, we can build something new. something better. an empire where everyone is treated with respect and kindness."

you nodded, feeling a surge of hope. "yes, together."

months passed, with toji by your side guiding you with his strength and wisdom, the both of you were able to transform the once oppressive mansion into a thriving, harmonious community. together you implemented fair rules and practices that ensured everyone was treated with respect and dignity.

under you joint leadership, the community flourished. laughter echoed through the halls. you and toji worked tirelessly meeting with residents' needs regularly to address their monetary needs and concerns.

your relationship with toji deepened with each passing day. he was not just your partner in governance but also in life. his support and love gave you the strength to face any challenge together. he gave you the ability to envision a future filled with hope and possibilty.

one evening, as you stood on the balcony overlooking the vibrant, happy people in the bustling streets, toji wrapped his arms around you. "we've come a long way, y/n," he said softly, his voice filled with pride.

"we have," you replied, leaning into his embrace, smelling his scent. "and it's only the beginning. there's so much more we can do, so many more lives we can bless."

toji smiled, his eyes shining with love. "together, we can achieve anything."

"y/n," he began softly, his voice filled with emotion that he was ready to finally spill, "there's something i need to tell you."

you turned to face him, your heart beating a little faster as you gazed into his eye hidden by his side swept hair, "what is it, toji?"

he took a deep breath. "these past months have been transformative, not just for our community, but for me personally. being by your side, working with you, seeing your compassion and strength to rebuild the community..i've fallen in love with you."

your breath caught in your throat, his words sinking in. the sincerity in his eyes left no doubt about his feelings.

"toji," you whispered, stepping closer to him, "i've felt the same way. every moment we spent together, every challenge we've face, its only brought us closer. i think i love you too.."

a big smile spread across his face, relief and joy evident. he reached out, gently cupping your face in his hands. "we're going to be stronger together, y/n. i know we can build a future filled with love and happiness."

you leaned into his touch, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "you..you want to make our future now?"

"y/n! you're such a naughty one huh?"

"oh please, you were the one who said it first~"

i have to 2 assignments to do but toji is more important #FR #ScrewMyUniDegree

Tags :-)

@weareundead @laje19 @candy69gurl

[pomegranate-pen]

rocky headcanons. love the little homeless less than sane kitty.

A/n: ask and you shall receive! since last night, I've gotten a tsunami of lackadaisy requests- thank you all so much!! as of now requests are still open for lackadaisy, since I've been waiting for some time to make some x reader for it lol. since many people wanting some general dating headcanons for Rocky, here's a gender neutral one for all of you!:D also, to the dear anon that asked for Freckle headcanons as well in the images, I'll do that request as well!! I'm glad that Rocky is getting so much love, he's such a silly guy whose trying his best in everything.

Rocky Rickaby x gn! reader general dating headcanons!

How you possibly met Rocky would differ into two scenarios and have different results. If met him in the little daisy café, the first thing you’ll see is the small bit of elegance he shows to others and his clumsiness and silliness as he rhymes poems while putting syrup in his tea. However, if met during his actual job, which is a bootlegger for the lackadaisy speakeasy, you’d be met with someone who shows an abundant amount of elegance the first moment you see him, yet gradually as time passes he shows more of his thrill for chaos and determination to cause the most insane things to happen. A normal fight with guns becomes one involving chainsaws and trucks all of a sudden, and you’d be left with multiple questions and concerns about how exactly did you all survive such a thing.

If asked Rocky, he’d only shrug and speak about it being a daily thing, mostly happening every three nights, and you’re left with just more concern for his safety throughout it. Though, Rocky reassures that he’s got it handled.

“Rocky, you were stabbed.”

“I know right?! Who brings a knife to a gunfight?!”

“didn’t you bring a chainsaw?-“

In Rocky’s case, the one who first realizes they’re in love depends on you, this time. Because Rocky realizing it would take a few weeks, but it won’t take too long for him to notice his emotions for you aren't much platonic anymore. So if after his realization, you do like him back and try to flirt with him, he will comply and verse poems of love. If not, and you’re still unsure of your feelings for him, he’d lightheartedly flirt with you, but tries to not come off too hard that it’d overwhelm you.

First one to confess though? Most certainly Rocky. Although he can hide his negative feelings such as the thoughts about his past and some outcomes of his actions quite easily, he cannot for the life of him hide positive ones. So if he likes you, it's abundantly clear. The way he’d confess, would probably try to be with a romantic dinner date and poem, but if unlucky enough, you’d find him confessing to you while you’re both being chased down by some people who are very well-armed with guns.

If said yes, he’d be beaming. A surge of motivation causes him to grin maniacally and grab a spare gun in the back of the car, full-on throwing bottles lit up and filled with gasoline with no real aim on who whatsoever as you try to drive away. His signature laugh is booming through the streets, and he is singing some verses about finding love and whatnot.

Being in love with the cat of chaos himself, Rocky Rickaby has its perks and downsides for sure. One perk, would be how caring he is towards his partner. Having someone who is even remotely interested in him is rare, and whenever he meets someone who cares even that much, he tends to stick to them since he knows they’re the only one. So having someone interested in him in a romantic light is like he’s won the lottery, and he’s gotten the prize that he can’t afford to lose. It's nice, how caring he can be and how he’s always there when you need him, but the downside of said perk is how determined he can get at times. He will not stop until a need of yours is met or a task you mentioned not wanting to do is perfectly finished, which..with his sort of rollercoaster of luck, it leads to unwanted results and a heavy amount of mess to clean up.

He’s a romantic at heart, but his clumsy nature at times leaves him to do romantic things very poorly. For example, a love letter he makes is filled with different doodles and messy handwriting, a few hearts made from cardboard of a cookie box messily glued to the paper, and the paper itself, is quite wrinkled when given. Yet, if you thank him and tell him how much you loved the letter, he’d be smiling more than before the entire day.

Yet, there are times when the romantic action is done brilliantly well, whether it's because of his luck or just sheer focus on the subject in the situation, you do find yourself extremely flustered and touched by the things he does, and he cherishes those moment lots.

PDA is his thing and no you cannot escape it. if shown a very strong disinterest in it, sure, he’ll back off for a bit, but if not, then expect many many affectionate touches, such as hand-holding, kissing your cheek or forehead, and cuddling. He does all of those but kissing you on the lips. since he sees those moments as of much importance and believes that they should be done at only the best of times to make them even more special.

This is most likely common knowledge, but Rocky would most definitely and absolutely write poems about you. usually even, the love letters are littered in poems. whether they’re good or not depends on your taste, which he will try to accommodate to by hearing who your favorite writer or poet is.

He also definitely plays violin for you when you’re occupied with a task. He’ll say he’s your personal musician, and will do anything to satisfy the customer with his tunes, even if trying to cover a favorite song of yours perfectly in one go leads to a few strings getting loose.

If it's not obvious enough, his love language is physical affection, and gift-giving. The love language he likes to receive most, however, is words of affirmation and also physical affection. Praises and compliments mean the world to him, he plays every praise you say in his head like a mantra, and it gives him determination for the day to finish up all his tasks and see you again.

No one believes Rocky when he mentions that he has a lover, and so, when they do meet you, best to say drinks were spilled and gasps were exchanged. Some tell you to blink twice for help, while others wonder if you were as mad as he was, since you’re dating him of all people. Though, in the end, they take a liking to you, since they believe that you keep Rocky in check when it’s needed, and decrease the number of problems that he causes.

Indulge in his hobbies for even one second and expect an over-eager to share Rocky info-dumping everything he knows. If you indulge enough, you’ll even get some bits and parts about his childhood, which speaking of, he never says a word of. Usually when asked, he’ll brush it off and summarize it as him taking odd jobs since he was a child, but delving deeper into such territories will only happen if you were in a relationship with him for much more than a year, and even till that time, it will take a lot of hesitancy and excuses for him to start explaining.

He’s smitten with you, there’s no doubt about it and if you ever get into any trouble, whether you’re independent or not, he'll think that you're in desperate need of help, and will do anything he can to assist you with it. whether you actually want it or not.

In summary, a love life with him consists of many adventures and chaos, but the amount of attention and love he gives to it makes it all worth it at times. He feels lucky that someone considers him fit to be their boyfriend, and will do anything he can to keep you.

[actaphere]

Sudden surge of motivation, thank you very much @sp00kysh4rk0

Info/inspo under the cut

I really loved this scene in the musical and I think about it daily.

Just like in the musical, in my au Rick is the first one to have his mind copied into a proper personality core permanently and so he's one of the cores that retained the most personality traits throughout his time of being messed with.

[bluekittyworld]

Still with YOU.

Hi! I have had this idea for a while, I am just trying to put into words for this fanfic.

Pairing: Devil Jimin x Human (f) Reader

Warning: 18+ (some chapters include smut and death)

Genre: Angst, Yandere, Smut (Fluff if you squint your eyes)

Please any feedback will be appreciated! Your words and likes motivate me to write more :)

Also please don't copy, or post/translate my work on other platforms, thank you.

Happy reading, and PLEASE give me feedback, tysm <3

Approx. 6 chapters, 14k words

Summary: Growing up, you didn't embrace religion as fervently as your grandmother did, but her deep faith often led her to take you to Sunday prayers. The Church is where you met a Priest named Jimin, you couldn't shake the strange attraction you felt towards him, a magnetic pull that seemed to defy reason.

Jimin takes you through each sin, corrupting your soul, in the end do you ultimately end up in hell?

Masterlist

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6 [End]

At the tender age of four, you had an imaginary friend like many other children do. He was a comforting presence, older and wiser, and you cherished the time spent playing together in the backyard treehouse that had stood for years before your family moved in.

But as you grew older, the visits to the treehouse became less frequent, overshadowed by the weight of tragedy and loss. The untimely passing of your parents in a tragic car accident cast a pall over your once vibrant world, stealing away the joy and innocence you once knew.

In the wake of such devastating loss, even the simple pleasures of childhood seemed to lose their lustre, leaving you adrift in a sea of grief and sorrow. The treehouse, once a sanctuary of imagination and play, stood silent and forgotten, a poignant reminder of happier times now lost to the past.

You moved into a cottage where your grandmother lived after the incident, you were just 9 years old. The cottage was situated in a small village just a couple of minutes away from the church.

Growing up, you didn't embrace religion as fervently as your grandmother did, but her deep faith often led her to take you to Sunday prayers. Despite not having many friends your age in the countryside, where mostly retired individuals resided, you found solace in the companionship of your grandmother's friends.

Over the years, you formed close bonds with them, cherishing the warmth and love they showered upon you. Their affection filled a void in your life, offering a sense of belonging and acceptance that you had yearned for. Yet, amidst the love and care they provided, you couldn't shake the lingering feeling of longing, a desire for deeper connections and a sense of purpose that seemed to elude you, maybe because your parents left you so early?

As adulthood beckoned, you made the conscious choice to pursue your studies through online lectures, opting to remain close to your grandmother rather than venture onto a distant campus. Some might have labelled you as immature for your decision, but you knew that your grandmother was your only family, and her time with you was precious and limited.

The thought of leaving her side, even for the pursuit of higher education, filled you with a sense of dread and guilt. You couldn't bear the idea of being apart from her, especially knowing that her time on this earth was drawing to a close. In your heart, you knew that being by her side during her final days was the most important thing, and you were willing to sacrifice other opportunities to ensure that she was not alone.

As your grandmother's health declined, it became increasingly difficult for her to visit the church on her own. Recognizing the importance of her faith in her life, you took it upon yourself to accompany her to Sunday prayers each week.

With the arrival of a new young priest at the church, you couldn't help but notice a sudden surge in the number of elderly ladies attending the services. It amused you how the presence of a handsome man seemed to reignite their religious fervour.

Shaking your head in amusement, you guided your grandmother to her favourite spot in the front row, ensuring she was comfortable before taking a seat beside her. Despite the comical circumstances, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the community of faith that had become a source of comfort and solace for your grandmother.

“I am Jimin, and I will be reading the passage from the Bible today” the young priest introduced himself and a sense of familiarity washed over you. His smile, warm and genuine, seemed to pierce through the crowd, locking onto your gaze with an intensity that made you slightly uncomfortable.

Despite your unease, there was something about him that tugged at the edges of your memory, a nagging sense of recognition that you couldn't quite place. How could you feel like you knew him when you had never met him before?

As Jimin began to read from the Bible, his voice resonating through the hallowed space of the church, you couldn't shake the feeling of being drawn to him, as if there were some invisible thread connecting the two of you across time and space. It was a mystery that lingered in the recesses of your mind, waiting to be unravelled.

Lost in a trance-like state, you found yourself more captivated by Jimin's physical presence than the words he spoke. His flawless, almost golden complexion seemed to glow in the soft light of the church, accentuated by the pitch-black cascade of hair that framed his strikingly dark eyes.

Your gaze lingered on his plush, pink lips as they moved in rhythm with the words of the passage, each syllable rolling off his tongue with a mesmerizing cadence. The sight of his Adam's apple bobbing with each word only added to the allure, drawing your attention like a moth to a flame.

It was as if time had slowed to a crawl, the world around you fading into insignificance as you became lost in the ethereal beauty of this enigmatic man before you. In that moment, nothing else mattered except the intoxicating pull of his presence, igniting a fire within you that threatened to consume all reason and restraint.

Feeling the weight of Jimin's gaze upon you, you were jolted out of your reverie by the sound of his throat clearing. Heat flooded your cheeks as embarrassment washed over you, realizing that he had caught you staring.

Quickly averting your gaze, you focused intently on your hands, your fingers fidgeting nervously as you tried to regain your composure. Determined not to get caught in his gaze again, you kept your eyes firmly fixed on your lap, refusing to let yourself be distracted by the captivating presence of the young priest.

As Jimin continued to read from the Bible, the words washing over you in a blur, you silently resolved to maintain your focus and avoid any further embarrassment. After all, you couldn't afford to let yourself get caught in his spell again, no matter how tempting it may be.

As Jimin made his rounds, handing out toffees to each granny with a considerate and sweet demeanour, you couldn't help but admire his thoughtfulness. It was clear that he knew how to brighten their day with such simple gestures of kindness.

When he finally reached you, his touch lingered a moment longer than necessary as he held onto your hand. Startled, you looked up to meet his gaze, only to find him squeezing your hand with a playful smirk playing on his lips. Confusion swept over you like a tidal wave, leaving you to wonder if perhaps there was more to his actions than met the eye. It certainly didn't feel like your imagination running wild.

Lying in bed that night, thoughts of Jimin lingered in your mind, his actions replaying over and over again like a broken record. Despite your best efforts to push them aside, you couldn't shake the strange attraction you felt towards him, a magnetic pull that seemed to defy reason.

You scolded yourself for harbouring such feelings towards a man of the cloth, reminding yourself of Jimin's role as a priest—a figure of reverence and devotion, not someone to be viewed through the lens of attraction.

Yet, try as you might to suppress those forbidden thoughts, they continued to bubble up to the surface, refusing to be ignored. In the quiet solitude of your room, you found yourself grappling with conflicting emotions, torn between the dictates of reason and the undeniable allure of desire. It was a battle you knew you couldn't afford to lose, but one that seemed to grow more challenging with each passing moment.

The following morning you woke up just past the afternoon, you felt a little lazy today oddly, normally you were always energetic and an early bird.

You heard your grandmother talking to someone, a male to be specific. Confused by the unfamiliar voice, you decided to investigate, not particularly concerned about your appearance. After all, your pyjamas were decent enough, and you quickly tied your hair into a messy bun before heading out of your room to see who it was.

Jimin was sat there having tea with your grandmother, you never regretted a decision so much before, you wished you had put a bit more effort into your appearance.

“Good afternoon _____” Jimin smiled and showed his pearly whites.

Did he really have to acknowledge your presence you thought.

Feeling too embarrassed to say anything, you meekly smiled back.

Jimin nodded “Your grandmother makes lovely tea, come join us.”

He patted the seat next to him, as soon as you were about to make an excuse…

“Yes, dear sit down, I brought your cup already” you grandmother said.

Jimin patted the seat next to him again, you awkwardly sat down, you felt a bit too warm being so close to him.

As the conversation ebbed and flowed around you, you found yourself lost in thought, quietly sipping on your tea as your mind wandered once more to Jimin. Despite the reverent atmosphere of the room and the presence of the holy man beside you, your thoughts strayed to decidedly less holy territory.

In your peripheral vision, you caught glimpses of Jimin, sitting beside the esteemed figure with an air of casual confidence that only seemed to enhance his allure. Despite your best efforts to remain focused on the conversation at hand, your mind couldn't help but drift to the image of him, a tantalizing presence that stirred something primal within you.

As you sipped on your tea, the warmth of the liquid failing to dispel the heat that suffused your cheeks, you couldn't help but entertain the not-so-holy thoughts that danced through your mind, fuelled by the magnetic pull of Jimin's presence

You finished your cup of tea, setting it down with a delicate clink. Summoning up the courage, you stole a quick glance at Jimin, only to find him already looking at you, that infuriating smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

For a moment, you entertained the idea of smacking that smirk right off his face. But then you realized, with a sinking feeling, that he seemed to have a knack for reading your thoughts. Or at least, you hoped not.

Finally you excused yourself, and went back to your room. At last you felt a bit cooler and those unholy thoughts calmed down a little.

Later that evening your grandmother said that she promised Father Park that you would help him with church duties. Who even was he? You thought to yourself.

“Who is Father Park?” you asked.

“Jimin, his full name is Park Jimin” your grandmother replied with a smile.

“Park Jimin” you whispered; even his name was as beautiful as him.

Then it suddenly hit you that your grandmother volunteered you to help him out, you felt so uneasy around him because of your own mind.

“Do I really have to help him?” you pouted.

“______, sweetie, it’s good to help others and you needed some sort of volunteering for your scholarship application, this is a great opportunity for that too” she replied.

She did have a point, so you just thought to give it a go for now, you could always quit later, right?

As Friday dawned, anticipation hummed in the air, a tangible excitement flowing through your veins as you made your way towards the church. With each step, you rehearsed the words in your mind, preparing to greet Jimin—Father Park—with the proper respect and deference befitting his position.

"Hi, Father Park," you whispered to yourself, the words rolling off your tongue in practiced cadence, each syllable infused with a sense of reverence and warmth.

As you neared the church, your heart quickened with anticipation, the echo of your rehearsed greeting ringing in your ears like a silent mantra. And as you stepped through the threshold, ready to embark on another day of volunteering alongside Jimin, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement building within you, eager to see what the evening would bring in the presence of the enigmatic Father Park.

He was expecting you and was waiting just by the door.

As you approached the church, you couldn't contain your excitement and blurted out, "Hi Jimin!" Instantly, you mentally scolded yourself for not sticking to your rehearsed greeting.

Jimin's smirk only deepened, teasing you with his playful demeanour. "Hi _____," he replied, amusement twinkling in his eyes. "Someone seems excited. Come to the back; we have a lot of scrolls to arrange by dates." His smile was infectious, melting away your annoyance and replacing it with a warmth that spread through your chest. With a flutter of anticipation, you followed him eagerly, eager to spend the day by his side once more.

As Jimin guided you through the corridors of the church, a familiar warmth enveloped you once more, causing a light sheen of perspiration to form along your hairline. Despite the coolness of the surroundings, the intensity of his presence seemed to ignite a fire within you, sending waves of heat rippling through your body.

When you reached the small room, well it wasn’t exactly small, but the large boxes placed around left little room to manoeuvre. As you surveyed the cluttered space, Jimin's sudden touch on your arms sent a jolt of surprise coursing through you, causing you to freeze in place.

“Umm… what are you-” you said.

“You look like you’re feeling really warm so I thought you might want to take off your jacket” he cut you off, was his voice always this attractive?

You took a step away from him, and took off your jacket, he held his hand out indicating you to give it to him, he hung it neatly on the hook behind the door.

As Jimin explained the task at hand, gesturing towards the box of scrolls with an air of casual confidence, your attention wavered, drawn inexorably to the sight of his hands—those elegant, mesmerising hands that seemed to possess a grace all their own. Despite your best efforts to focus on his words, your gaze remained fixated on the subtle movements of his fingers as they gestured and emphasized various points.

Nodding absentmindedly in response to his instructions, you found yourself lost in a haze of fascination, utterly captivated by the sight before you. Surely, arranging scrolls by date order couldn't be so difficult, not when Jimin's hands were there to guide you, effortlessly navigating through the task with a skill that bordered on the sublime.

You were now arranging the scrolls. The cool, aged parchment felt delicate beneath your fingertips as you carefully laid them out on the expansive wooden table before you.

The musty scent of history lingered in the air, mingling with the faint fragrance of incense, creating an atmosphere of reverence and tranquillity as you worked, you arranged them in a meticulous order.

“_____” Jimin spoke.

“Mhm?” you replied, trying to concentrate on the scrolls and not him.

“How was your childhood?” he asked.

What a random thing to ask you thought.

“It was okay, my parents passed away when I was nine years old” you replied.

“I’m sorry to hear that, but before that when you were younger, did you have many friends? Imaginary friends like some people say, even though they might be real.” He said mindlessly.

You stopped arranging the scrolls and looked at him, that is such an oddly specific question.

He chuckled, “Sorry you don’t have to answer it.”

“I did have 2 friends, and I think I had an imaginary friend too, I don’t really remember much, my memories are all mixed up from the trauma of losing my parents.” You replied a little emotionally. Jimin looked into your eyes, his gaze softened a bit, he tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear and patted your head… what was that for, it’s not like you’re five, you’re a grown woman, you thought.

As you returned home after your volunteering session, a sense of contentment washed over you. Surprisingly, the experience hadn't been as bad as you had initially feared; in fact, you found yourself considering the possibility of returning again. A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you reflected on the past two hours, realising that you had actually enjoyed spending time at the church, particularly in Jimin's company.

Throughout the week, you found yourself eagerly anticipating your next encounter with him. There was something about him that made you feel at ease, something that drew you to him like a moth to a flame. You found solace in sharing your stories with him, comforted by his attentive ear and understanding demeanour.

Unbeknownst to you, however, your growing affection for Jimin was leading you deeper into his web of deceit. Little did you realize the true nature of his intentions, or the dangerous game he was playing. As the days passed and your feelings for him intensified, you remained oblivious to the lurking shadows that threatened to consume you whole.

Chapter 2

Masterlist

A/N: how was it? :) the next chapter will contain smut, only read if you're 18+

[whumpshaped]

cornered animal

u guys r such a hivemind. i can respect that. i hear u loud and clear

masterlist bingo card

tw vampire whumper, vampire whumpee, lady whumper, conditioning, dehumanisation, begging, sadistic whumper

"Please, leave me be," Helle said shakily, backing away from their sire as she kept advancing on them. "Have I not complied with all of your requests? Have I not been perfect?"

Lady Marie laughed, a soft sound, almost fond. "Oh, perfect is a very strong word to describe what you are. It is true that you have improved in certain areas, and you are getting better at following orders. But perfect? Perfect is a long way off, pet."

"I am trying my best." Desperation was evident in their voice, and in every move they made. Their room wasn't the most spacious, if it could be called a room at all. Their back soon hit the wall, and they realised they had nowhere to run. "Mistress, please, you really have no reason to torment me further. I understand. I do. I, I apologise for my inability to serve you better, but I will improve more, and you shall have a perfect servant in no time. I promise. Please."

"I have been promised many things in life and death alike," she said thoughtfully, coming to a stop outside of arm's reach. Thank god. "Not many of them kept, now that I think about it. And you, pet, are a practised liar; one of your many great talents, one might say."

"I would not dare lie to you, Mistress," they said hastily. "There was a time when I thought I could fool you, and that time is long past. I know my place, now. You– you have made it very clear." They pressed into the wall even more, and they felt a sudden surge of empathy towards the humans they had been hunting for the past decades. They were all but cornered animals in Lady Marie's world, whether alive or undead didn't matter one bit.

"So why do you think I came to visit you, then?"

Helle didn't know. They wished they had, but they were wrecking their head for any little transgressions they might've committed and coming up empty. "I, I honestly do not know, I thought I was doing an adequate job! If I made a mistake, it was out of ignorance, and I can do better if you tell me how. I am eager to do better for you, Mistress, please, give me a chance. One chance without punishment. Please."

"You are not thinking about the right things. Let me give you a hint, pet: you have done nothing wrong recently that would be deserving of a punishment. Now, try again."

Their head was spinning. They were too stressed to be figuring out Lady Marie's motivations, especially given how unpredictable she could be. If they hadn't made a mistake, then why, why was she in their cell? Why did she have that bloodthirsty smile on her face, why did she look at them like they were prey, why did she come at an hour that usually meant cruel whippings and silver pressed against their tongue?

"I do not– do not have the faintest idea, Mistress," they choked out. "I apologise. I have made so many mistakes in the past, punishments are all I can recall."

"Endearing," she teased. "Well, that all changes tonight! Tonight, you will learn a lesson other than atoning for past actions."

"N-no punishment?" they asked hopefully.

"None at all, dear pet." Despite saying that, her thrall soon came into the room, carrying the silver tipped whip that made their breath hitch.

"No, wait, Mistress, please, I have done nothing wrong, you said it yourself! You said there would be no punishment!" Their panic came back in full force, and they grabbed onto their shirt protectively, ready to hiss and bite and claw at her if she tried to take it. They hadn't made a mistake. No whipping was in order.

"And I am no filthy liar. This is not a punishment, pet." She gestured to the floor, and they dropped to their knees like a puppet on a string. They had done this so many times. This was a punishment, this was how punishments started, she was going to torture them, burn them, whip them bloody. "Tonight you shall learn that I expect unconditional devotion. Sacrifices without any rewards in exchange. Your pain without having done me wrong. That way I know you truly are loyal to me."

"I am," they sobbed. "I am, I am loyal, I– that is why I made no mistakes, that is why I am so careful to serve you to the best of my abilities, that is why–"

"That is why you will take whatever I give you." She glanced down at their shirt, and they couldn't, they couldn't bring themself to take it off and subject themself to another night of agony, not without any reason, not when they hadn't even been expecting it. They thought they were okay. "Will you not?"

Their tears felt especially hot against their permanently cold skin, the only warmth they were allowed to feel anymore apart from the fresh blood they were so rarely gifted. They stared at the whip in her hand, trying to will their trembling hands to comply with her orders and failing. "Please..."

"You see, this is why these nights are so crucial in training arrogant little servants like you. All of you think I should be satisfied with your shallow cooperation, your... performance of obedience. But as soon as serving me becomes a touch more difficult, you are all eager to flee." She stepped closer, and their hold on their shirt tightened even more. "Unconditional devotion is so much more than you could even comprehend right now. But you will learn. I am here to make sure of that."

~

taglist: @whumpsday @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @delicateprincepaper @whumppmuhw @florissimps @nicolepascaline @oliversrarebooks @the-cyrulik @pirefyrelight

[songbirdseung]

studying / en- hyung line

different scenarios for each member

Heeseung / non!idol heeseung established relationships

You sat at your desk, textbooks and notes sprawled across the surface, trying to make sense of the complicated lesson you were studying for. Frustration gnawed at you as you glanced at your phone, longing for a distraction from the overwhelming material. With a sigh, you decided to text Heeseung, who was in the male dorms across the college campus.

Text from Y/N: "This lesson is killing me, Heeseung. I need some motivation here! 😩"

You waited for a response, but minutes ticked by without a reply. A sinking feeling settled in your chest as you noticed that your message had been read. "Maybe he's busy," you thought, trying to focus on your notes.

Just as you were deep in concentration, a hurried knock on your dorm room door startled you. You furrowed your brow, wondering who could be visiting you at this hour. As you reached for your phone to text your friends about the unexpected visitor, a message from Heeseung lit up your screen.

Text from Heeseung: "Open the door, babe. I might get caught in the female dorm! 🙈"

Your eyes widened, and you hurriedly got up, making your way to the door. With a sense of urgency, you unlocked it and swung it open to reveal Heeseung standing there, a sheepish grin on his face.

Heeseung stepped inside and pulled you into a warm embrace, greeting you with a sweet kiss. "Sorry for the sudden visit, Y/N. I couldn't let you suffer through that lesson alone," he said, flashing a reassuring smile.

You couldn't help but smile back, relieved to see him. "I'm so glad you're here," you replied, feeling a surge of gratitude. "And don't worry about getting caught; I won't tell anyone."

For the rest of the night, you and Heeseung sat side by side at your desk, working through the challenging material together. His presence provided the motivation and support you needed to tackle the lesson, and the small talk and shared laughter made the study session feel much less daunting. As the hours passed, you realized that even in the midst of academic struggles, having Heeseung by your side was the greatest source of comfort and inspiration.

Jay / idol!jay established relationships

It had been a while since you had seen Jay, as he had been caught up in a whirlwind of idol schedules and commitments. So, when he decided to pay you a surprise visit at your apartment, he couldn't wait to see your face light up with joy. As he entered your cozy living space, he expected to find you immersed in your studies, but what he discovered took him by surprise.

There you were, fast asleep at your desk, surrounded by open textbooks and scattered notes. Jay couldn't help but smile at your dedication to your studies. He approached quietly, not wanting to disturb your peaceful slumber. Gently, he picked you up in his strong arms, carrying you bridal style.

As he carefully placed you on your bed, you began to stir, your eyelids fluttering open. Confusion briefly clouded your vision until you registered Jay's presence. A sleepy smile graced your lips as you greeted him. "Jay? What are you doing here?"

Jay chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "I wanted to surprise you," he replied, his eyes filled with warmth. "But it looks like I found you working too hard instead."

You sat up, rubbing your eyes and yawning. "I was studying for an exam," you explained, feeling grateful for his unexpected visit.

Jay's expression softened with concern. "Y/N, it's great that you're studying, but don't forget to take breaks. You don't want to overwork yourself," he advised, his fingers tracing gentle circles on your back.

You nodded in agreement, appreciating his caring nature. Leaning in, you pressed a sweet kiss to his lips, your gratitude and affection evident in the gesture. "Thank you, Jay. You always know how to take care of me."

Jay smiled warmly and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a loving embrace. "That's what I'm here for, babe. Let's cuddle for a while before you get back to studying, okay?"

Jake / nonidol!jake friends to lovers

You and Jake were huddled in the university library, surrounded by textbooks and notes, as you attempted to make sense of your math homework. It had been a long study session, and your frustration was starting to show.

"Jake, I just don't get these formulas," you sighed, flipping through your notebook. "I mean, what even is algebra, anyway? It's like trying to decipher an alien language."

Jake, who had been patiently helping you for hours, couldn't help but chuckle at your exasperation. "I promise, Y/N, it's not that complicated. Algebra is just a way of expressing relationships and patterns using symbols and numbers. Let me explain it to you one more time."

As Jake launched into another explanation, he couldn't help but admire your determination and enthusiasm to understand the subject. Your furrowed brow and determined expression were endearing to him.

A little later, as you both worked through a particularly challenging problem, Jake suddenly broke into a grin. "You know, Y/N, they say math is a lot like romance."

You looked up from your notes, a puzzled expression on your face. "Really? How so?"

Jake leaned in closer, his voice softening. "Well, think about it. In both math and romance, there are formulas and equations that might seem complex at first, but when you break them down, they're actually quite simple. And just like in math, sometimes in romance, you need to solve for 'x' – find that missing piece that completes the equation."

Your heart skipped a beat as you pondered Jake's words. The way he looked at you with a hint of warmth and affection made you wonder if there was something more to his statement. Could he be implying that he had feelings for you?

You couldn't help but feel a flush of excitement mixed with uncertainty. As you stared into Jake's eyes, searching for any sign of his true intentions, he continued to smile, seemingly unaware of the thoughts swirling in your mind.

sunghoon / nonidol!sunghoon established relationship

Sunghoon had been struggling to focus on his studies for hours, his textbooks and notes spread across the table in a chaotic mess. He sighed in frustration, running a hand through his hair as he tried to make sense of the complex material. Y/N, who had been studying nearby, noticed his distress and couldn't help but feel concerned.

Sensing that Sunghoon needed some help without her usual teasing and playful antics, Y/N approached him with a warm smile. "Hey, Sunghoon, do you need some assistance with this?" she asked gently.

Sunghoon glanced up at her, his expression a mix of exhaustion and frustration. "Yeah, I just can't seem to grasp this concept," he admitted.

Y/N sat down beside him, her demeanor serious and focused. She started explaining the topic, breaking it down into simpler terms and providing examples to illustrate the key points. She could see that Sunghoon appreciated her effort to help without any teasing or distractions.

However, as Y/N continued to explain, Sunghoon couldn't help but let out an exaggerated whine, causing Y/N to pause mid-sentence. "Y/N, you're being too serious," he complained. "I can't concentrate when you're not making fun of me."

Y/N chuckled at his complaint but understood the importance of helping him stay on track. "Okay, okay," she said with a playful wink. "I'll throw in a joke or two, but let's get through this first."

With a balance of seriousness and a hint of humor, Y/N continued to help Sunghoon navigate the challenging material. They worked together, with Y/N patiently answering his questions and offering encouragement when he felt stuck.

Days turned into nights, and the exam day finally arrived. Sunghoon felt more confident than he had in a long time, thanks to Y/N's unwavering support and her ability to help him understand the material. He tackled the exam with determination, and when the results were announced, he was pleasantly surprised to find that he had aced it.

[dirty-bosmer]

WIP Wednesday

It's that time of the week. I'm going out later tonight, so I'll queue this up, but thank you to my very kind and lovely friends who tagged me earlier in the day @skyrim-forever @ladytanithia @kookaburra1701 you're all so motivating <3

Tagging: @thequeenofthewinter @tamrielesque @gilgamish @thana-topsy @elavoria @tallmatcha @nuwanders @paraparadigm @throughtrialbyfire @sylvienerevarine @rainpebble3 @mareenavee @expended-sleeper @lucien-lachance @miraakulous-cloud-district

Looking forward to reading whatever you decide to post :)

Meanwhile, I blew some dust off my long neglected chapter of The Illusionist.

The door croaked open to reveal the main hall, fortunately vacant. Familiar stale air rushed to greet her, only the dull thwacks from the distant training room to give it weight while she stared down its gullet past the broken teeth of so many memories. Nim could still see them in glimpses, quick ghostly wisps darting through her periphery like silverfish. Now in the sanctuary’s jaws, the only way forward was through, but each breath only served to pull her a little deeper into her grief, and with each step she felt a little more of her spirit flee her, a little more of herself letting go. 

“Elianna is right this way.” Arquen surged forward, dress swishing at her heels. Her words came clipped. She kept her eyes fixed forward, eager to get this over with, and Nim didn’t know if she should be too when the sudden grasp of her sorrow felt more welcoming than sleep. It was true what One-Ear had told her sprawled out on the plush cushions lining his den, eyes closed or maybe open, merely clouded in the smoke, Careful, friend. Misery’s grip is even stronger than the moon-sugar's—

“Follow.”

At the stern sound of Arquen’s voice, Nim stepped back into her body and quickened her pace to keep up.  When she realized they were heading down to Vicente’s old quarters, that Arquen was pulling a key from the pouch belted at her waist, her heart skipped a strange clumsy rhythm. “You keep her locked up?”

“On the Listener's orders.”

“He would, wouldn't he? Well, you’ve made it clear you don’t do everything he says.”

Arquen glanced at her over her shoulder and rolled her eyes. “I’m not barbaric, Nimileth. Don’t look so dour. She has plenty of enrichment, and let’s not forget that when we found her, she’d been left in the gutters alone. I still wonder exactly how she wound up there. Whose orders were those now, hmm?”

Nim shut her mouth. When she swallowed, the guilt tasted sour, metallic. Of blood.

Arquen continued on, leading her to Vicente’s room or the room that had once been Vicente’s. Nim couldn’t imagine it containing anything but him, and did his presence still fill those empty spaces, a whisper of him calling from whatever liminal length away? Or was it merely her own memory willing his shadow back into existence that made long silhouettes dance in the corner of her eye? Whatever it was, she hoped he was there, that with every step closer those memories might crystallize, that his ghost might leap out from the walls, come back to haunt her, and even if it was only a gelid, spectral touch, it would be better than feeling nothing of him ever again.

Man wouldn't I just love to finish this chapter sometime 😅

[awakenthebeing]

I just wanna say, I really love Piepoe, Ever since I found your blog. I had a sudden surge of motivation to draw Her and return to drawing Bruno.

Also, I hope Bruno is getting along with Piepoe and not causing any problems

Awghhwhw I'm so glad to hear it!!! Thank you for your kind words,, they mean ever so much to me!! As for those two, I'm sure they're getting along fine!!

Piepoe cares any kind creachers, other fake peppino creachers included :3!!

[deliciousangelfestival]

Tears In His Ferrari - 12 || End

Character: Bucky Barnes x Farmer!Reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes, used to a life of luxury, takes on farm challenges in a bet with his father. Mud-stained Ferraris and a rustic farmhouse lead to unexpected personal growth, guided by the stern mentorship of Y/N, a farmer making his city-boy life difficult.

Theme: Fluff, Slice of Life, Heart-Warming.

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on: Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more. 

Chapters: Chp 1, Chp 2,Chp 3 , Chp 4 , Chp 5 , Chp 6 , Chp 7 , Chp 8 , Chp 9 , Chp 10, Chp 11 , Chp 12

Bucky's purpose in visiting Toby's house was simply to make a quick stop before heading to the markets. However, as he stepped inside, he immediately sensed that something was amiss. The once cozy atmosphere was replaced by an unsettling sense of disarray.

Furniture was overturned, and the air was thick with tension. Bucky's heart raced as he cautiously made his way further into the house. Then, he heard a low, pained groan from behind the couch.

With a sinking feeling in his stomach, Bucky approached the source of the sound. There, lying on the floor, was Toby's grandfather, his face contorted in agony, blood staining his lips. It was evident that he had been injured, but the circumstances surrounding it remained a mystery.

Kneeling beside the elderly man, Bucky felt a surge of urgency. "Gramps! Who hurt you?" he exclaimed, his voice filled with concern and alarm.

Toby's grandpa slowly opened his eyes, his voice trembling with pain. "My son is here..." he whispered, his words laden with fear and despair.

Bucky's breath caught in his throat. He knew all too well about Toby's drunken father, a man plagued by addiction and violence. With a heavy heart, he gently moved Toby's grandpa to the safety of the nearby couch, all the while silently cursing the man responsible for this chaos.

Quickly dialing the local police and the hospital, Bucky surveyed the scene, his mind racing with worry for Toby and his grandmother. As he was about to reach out to Y/N for assistance, movement caught his eye near the open door.

There, Toby stood, bravely blocking the path of a menacing figure, his expression resolute despite the fear in his eyes.

The intruder's voice rang out, filled with aggression and entitlement. "Where's the fucking key?" he demanded, his tone dripping with malice.

Toby remained steadfast, refusing to yield to the man's demands. "I won't give it to you," he declared firmly, his voice tinged with defiance.

"Bullshit. I heard the person who gave it is rich. Just say that you crashed it, and he will give you another truck."

Toby shook his head defiantly. “No.”

The intruder's voice grew more aggressive. “Shut up.”

But the intruder's patience wore thin, and with a swift, violent motion, he struck Toby across the face, the sound of the blow echoing through the tense silence of the room.

Bucky couldn't bear to witness the brutality any longer. With a surge of righteous anger, he pushed through the doorway, confronting the intruder head-on. "Get your hands away from him," he commanded, his voice laced with a steely resolve.

Bucky's sudden appearance startled both, the intruder who name is Jack and Toby, their eyes widening in surprise as they registered his presence.

Jack clicked his tongue in annoyance. "And who might you be?" he sneered, his tone dripping with contempt.

Bucky's fists clenched at his sides, his anger simmering beneath the surface. "You hit your own father and son?" he spat, his voice heavy with disgust.

Jack scoffed dismissively. "A real man can take a punch," he retorted callously, his words a feeble attempt to justify his despicable actions.

But Bucky knew better. "Not like this," he thought bitterly, his gaze narrowing with disdain.

"Are you planning to sell the truck and squander the money on your gambling addiction?" he demanded, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife.

Jack's face twisted into a sneer. "This guy doesn't know how to respect his elders," he grumbled, his words dripping with disdain.

Bucky's patience wore thin. "You may be old, but you're acting like a child," he shot back, his voice firm and unwavering.

With a derisive snort, Jack lunged forward, his fists raised in a clumsy attempt at aggression. But Bucky was ready. With lightning-fast reflexes, he dodged Jack's clumsy attack, retaliating with a powerful punch that landed squarely on Jack's jaw.

The force of the blow sent Jack reeling, his eyes rolling back in his head as he crumpled to the ground in a heap.

Toby watched in stunned silence as his father lay unconscious at Bucky's feet, the aftermath of the altercation sinking in as the room fell into an uneasy silence.

Jack fainted, overwhelmed by Bucky's superior fighting skills despite his attempts to retaliate.

Though victorious, Bucky couldn't shake the feeling of guilt that washed over him at the sight of Jack lying unconscious on the ground.

“Toby, Bucky! Are you all right?” Y/N's voice echoed through the room as she rushed in, her concern evident in her tone.

Toby, bearing the marks of his father's abuse, managed a weak nod. “Big sister,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N knelt beside Toby, enfolding him in a comforting embrace. “It's okay,” she reassured him softly, her arms wrapped protectively around him. Then, her gaze shifted to Bucky, who stood frozen in place, his expression clouded with remorse.

Sensing his inner turmoil, Y/N gently took Bucky's hand, her touch a soothing balm against the bruises that marred his skin.

“Bucky,” Y/N's voice cut through his thoughts, drawing him back to the present.

He blinked, his attention snapping back to Y/N as she addressed him.

She peered at him with concern etched on her features. “Does it hurt?” she inquired, her eyes scanning his bruised hand.

Bucky shook his head, forcing a reassuring smile. “No,” he replied, though the ache in his hand begged to differ. “Let's get them to the hospital,” he suggested, his voice firm and resolved.

🏥

At the hospital, Bucky found himself in the waiting room, his mind still reeling from the events that had unfolded. The doctors had assured them that Toby's grandpa and Toby were alright, which brought a wave of relief.

“What about Jack?” Bucky inquired, concern evident in his voice.

The doctor let out a snort, clearly familiar with Jack's reputation around town. “That man's just sleeping. You gave him a good punch,” the doctor remarked, offering a pat on Bucky's shoulder.

“Bucky.”

Startled, Bucky turned to find Y/N sitting beside him, her presence a comforting anchor amidst the chaos.

“None of this is your fault,” she reassured him, her voice soft but firm.

Bucky opened his mouth to protest, but Y/N silenced him with a gentle shake of her head. “Nobody's blaming you. Everyone knows Jack is an asshole,” she added, a hint of wry amusement in her tone.

Bucky couldn't help but chuckle at her candid remark, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly.

“It must be the first time you've faced this situation,” Y/N observed, her gaze searching his face.

Bucky nodded slowly, acknowledging the truth in her words.

“Do you need a ride?” Y/N offered, her concern evident in her eyes.

Bucky met her gaze and nodded gratefully. “Yes,” he replied, relieved to have her support.

But when Bucky returned home, a sense of unease still lingered within him. He sank onto the couch, resting his elbows on his knees and burying his face in his hands.

Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes, attempting to calm the storm of emotions raging inside him.

When he opened his eyes, he found Archie lying beside him, his loyal companion in times of distress. Bucky scooped him up and made his way to the car.

Turning on the engine, he pressed down on the gas pedal, the familiar rumble of the car providing a sense of solace. He needed to clear his mind, to escape the suffocating weight of guilt that threatened to consume him.

The events of the day played over and over in his mind, each moment haunting him like a relentless specter. If only he hadn't given Toby the truck, perhaps none of this would have happened. The thought gnawed at him, a constant reminder of his perceived failure.

He couldn't shake the feeling of responsibility, the weight of the world pressing down on his shoulders. The image of Toby, battered and bruised, at the hands of his own father, seared into his mind.

Thinking of his own father, David, only intensified his turmoil. David, who had always been patient and kind, never once raising a hand in anger. Bucky couldn't help but feel like he had failed to live up to his father's example, his own shortcomings glaring in comparison.

Lost in a whirlwind of overwhelming thoughts and emotions, Bucky felt the hot sting of tears pricking at his eyes. He didn't bother to wipe them away, letting them fall unchecked as he drove aimlessly into the night.

The road stretched before him, a seemingly endless expanse of asphalt leading nowhere. And so, he drove on, seeking solace in the rhythmic hum of the engine, hoping to find some semblance of peace amidst the chaos of his mind.

🏎️

Until the car came to a stop in front of the imposing mansion.

The night had grown late, the darkness enveloping the surroundings in an eerie silence.

Bucky stepped out of the car and approached the grand mahogany door, his hand hesitating for a moment before knocking.

The door creaked open, revealing the familiar figure of Butler Bernard. His expression shifted from surprise to recognition upon seeing Bucky standing before him.

"Young Master?" Bernard's eyes widened in disbelief at the unexpected visitor.

Bucky offered a small smile; his voice sounded raspy and exhausted. "Hey Bernard. Is dad still awake?"

Bernard nodded, his features etched with concern. This could be the first time he saw the young master look this tired. "Yes, he's in his study."

Bucky nodded solemnly and gently passed Archie into Bernard's surprised arms before stepping into the familiar halls of his childhood home.

David, still immersed in his work, was taken aback by the unexpected appearance of his son. Concern flickered in his eyes as he observed Bucky's troubled expression.

Setting aside his documents, David removed his glasses and rose from his desk. "What's wrong, son?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine concern.

Bucky remained silent for a moment, his emotions swirling inside him like a tumultuous storm. Finally, he found the courage to speak, his voice trembling with emotion as he reached out to his father.

"I'm sorry, Dad," Bucky began, his voice thick with emotion. "All this time, I've been ungrateful to you."

Tears welled up in Bucky's eyes as he embraced his father tightly, the weight of his remorse heavy on his shoulders.

Bucky clung to his father, his emotions finally breaking free as he poured out his heart. "I've been so selfish, Dad. I've taken everything you've done for granted."

David was taken aback by Bucky's sudden words. He held his son close, his heart aching to see Bucky in distress. "You're not selfish, son," he replied, his voice gentle yet firm. "You've been trying to find your way, and sometimes that means making mistakes."

"But I've been so blind," Bucky admitted, his voice muffled against his father's shoulder. "I never realized how much you've sacrificed for me, how hard you've worked to provide for our family."

David pulled back slightly, cupping Bucky's face in his hands so he could look him in the eye. "I've always been proud of you, Bucky. You may have made mistakes, but you're learning from them, and that's what matters."

Bucky nodded, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "I want to make things right, Dad. I want to be someone you can be proud of."

"You already are, son," David assured him, his voice filled with warmth and love. "And no matter what happens, I'll always be here for you."

With those words, father and son shared a moment of understanding and forgiveness, their bond stronger than ever.

David gave his son a reassuring pat on the back before letting him go. "Seems like something happened today. Get some rest," he advised gently.

Bucky nodded, grateful for his father's understanding. "Hmm," he murmured, his mind still heavy with the day's events.

*******

The next morning, Bucky woke up early, his body attuned to the rhythm of farm life.

Even Butler Bernard noticed his early rising. "Sir, you can't sleep?" he inquired.

Bucky chuckled. "No, I've had enough rest. Where's Archie?"

Bernard replied, "Ah, I gave him breakfast. He woke up even earlier than me."

Meanwhile, David made his way to the dining room, surprised to find himself the last one awake. It was usually Bucky who slept in until 10 a.m.

Observing his son playing with Archie in the backyard, David couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and nostalgia. Bernard, too, noticed the change in Bucky. "Young Master has grown up," he remarked.

David sipped his coffee, a mixture of emotions swirling within him. "Yes," he agreed quietly.

While Bucky was back at his own home, he couldn't shake the feeling of emptiness. There were no crops to harvest, no eggs to collect, and no livestock to tend to. And most notably, there was no one to annoy him—no Y/N.

Sighing heavily, Bucky was pulled out of his thoughts by Butler Bernard's voice. "Young Master, someone called for you," Bernard informed him.

Bucky grabbed the phone, secretly hoping it was Y/N, but his hopes were dashed when he heard Steve's voice on the other end. "You're home, punk? Let's meet," Steve said.

Bucky's disappointment was evident in his tone as he responded, "Oh, it's you."

Steve chuckled, picking up on Bucky's mood. "Hey, why do you sound so disgusted with my call?" he teased.

Bucky shrugged, trying to mask his disappointment. "Just a little. Where do you want to meet?" he asked, resigned to the fact that he wouldn't be spending time with Y/N anytime soon.

🎉

When Bucky arrived at the usual gathering spot with his friends, he was surprised to find that Steve had organized a homecoming party for him. Cheers erupted as Bucky stepped into the venue, greeted by the smiling faces of his friends.

Expressing his gratitude, Bucky thanked everyone for the warm welcome. However, despite the lively atmosphere and celebration around him, Bucky found himself feeling oddly subdued.

Steve, noticing Bucky's subdued demeanor, couldn't help but ask, “Something bothering you? Or are you sick?”

Bucky shook his head, forcing a smile. “I'm fine,” he replied, though it was a lie.

In truth, he couldn't shake the unease he felt witnessing the abundance of expensive food and drinks being wasted at the party. He couldn't help but think of the hard work of the farmers who had grown and harvested those crops.

Steve, always one to jump to conclusions, chimed in with his own theory. “Must be a girl,” he teased, nudging Bucky playfully.

Bucky simply looked at his friend, a mixture of amusement and contemplation in his eyes.

Steve snapped his fingers. “I'm right. I bet it's not Kate since she's left for London. Let me guess, Y/N?”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “She's just a friend, but how did you know?”

“It was a trade secret,” Steve said with a grin.

“I've known you for a long time. I can see that you've disconnected from this life,” Steve said, his tone serious.

Bucky sighed. “I guess so.”

“You should go to her,” Steve murmured, a knowing look in his eyes.

Bucky's brows furrowed in confusion. “I'm sorry?”

“I said you should go to her. What are you doing here?” Steve reiterated, his voice filled with conviction.

“You're right,” Bucky admitted, feeling a sense of clarity over him.

🏎️

Bucky left the party, feeling a sense of urgency to sort things out with Y/N. He spotted a familiar truck parked outside as he drove back to his house. Y/N was here.

Hurrying inside, he found Y/N and his dad in conversation. David noticed Bucky's arrival and excused himself. Now it was just Bucky and Y/N.

Bucky felt a lump form in his throat as he struggled to find the right words. “Hi,” he managed to say, his voice tinged with awkwardness.

Y/N's expression softened as she looked at him, her eyes reflecting a mixture of concern and relief. “Is that all you have to say? You suddenly left. You made us worried,” she said, her voice carrying a hint of reproach.

“I'm sorry,” Bucky replied, his tone filled with sincerity. He couldn't shake his guilt for leaving abruptly and causing concern.

"How's Toby and his grandpa?" Bucky inquired anxiously.

"They're fine. And Toby has been looking for you too," Y/N responded with a hint of concern.

Y/N sighed, her eyes softening as she reassured Bucky. “You still feel bad for hitting Jack? Don't be. That man deserved it. And your dad made sure no one would bother Toby and his grandparents again.”

Bucky's brow furrowed in surprise. “My dad?” he echoed, taken aback by the revelation.

Y/N nodded, her expression serene yet determined. “So, are you going to stay here or go back to the farm?”

Bucky fell silent for a moment, pondering her question. Then, with a decisive nod, he reached out and took Y/N's hand. “Let's go back,” he said, his voice filled with newfound resolve.

With a shared smile, they walked out of the house together, ready to face whatever challenges awaited them, hand in hand. It was a new beginning for both of them, and they embraced it with hope and optimism.

-End-

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Hi can you continue the scarlet witch reader where the reader power is becoming more unstable thanks to thw increase of power and they go seek help to a witch named agatha.

Your second semester at Nevermore has just begun and along with a new semester came new problems. However your problem has always been a reoccurring one; your powers. It seemed that after the fight with Crackstone your powers have only gotten more powerful, maybe you unintentionally absorbed the arcane magic from his cane when he died? You weren’t quite sure but with this new additional power of yours, it only made understanding them a lot harder for you.

For starters your magic went from a beautiful (f/c) to a violent and lively scarlet hue whenever your brought it forth from your fingertips. Also like it was bleeding through you, taking over entirely. Reality seemed to flicker and waver within your presence as objects within your room and outside of it, whether it be a book or a drink would unwillingly becoming something else like a brick or a puppy dog; Minor stuff like that but you managed to change them back easily enough.

Your energy projectiles also have gotten stronger alongside your forcefields that were borderline impossible to break and took a lot out of the witches and warlocks that tired. You rarely did any studying on magic such as your own because on some days it just came naturally to you, so you didn’t see the reason as why you should whenever the witches and the warlocks would warn you of the dangers of this type of mindset before slinking away elsewhere.

Some of them were jealous of the fact that you were quickly risen up the ranks as the most powerful magic user. They spent their lives studying their magic but you come along with a natural born talent for it and excel above even their best attempts. Some even attempted to steal your magic by sneaking into your dorm at night but what they saw horrified them into completely abandoning their objective.

You would be asleep in bed whilst another version of ‘you’ would be staring at them from the corner of your room, eyes glowing red as the magic surging about your fingertips in a threatening manor. But before the witch/ warlock could react, ‘you’ had already manipulated the weapon they were planning to use on you and turned it on themselves; draining them of their magic. Astral projection on the scale that you were subconsciously exempting was a rare feet for even the most gifted of magic users. So needless to say the rapid growth of your magic was staring to become an issue for the school.

Wednesday, Enid, Eugene, Ajax and Xavier were also made aware of your sudden growth in magic when they would walk in on you levitating in the middle of the room as the majority of your belongings were suspended in midair by wisps of your magic whilst your eyes were closed tightly as though in deep concentration. So when enid accidentally made a noise, your eyes flung open and all your belongings shot out towards them like deadly projectiles, forcing the friend group to hit the deck just as books and trinkets flew past them and hit the wall behind them violently enough to leave indents.

“Is everyone alright?” You said hurriedly as you helped Wednesday off the floor as she then looked behind her to examine the damaged delt to your dorm wall. “Nobody’s hurt right?” You added panicked as your eyes looked over everyone and heaved a sigh of relief when there wasn’t a scratch nor blossoming bruises upon their skin. “Your magic has become more stable as of recent haven’t they?” Wednesday asked.

“Yeah, ever since the Crackstone fight but I’ve been seeing someone about them and I’m pretty certain she’s going to be a big help for me.” You told her, watching as her brows furrowed in skepticism and distrust. You understood her reasoning but you were certain that your mentor wouldn’t have any ulterior motives concerning your powers. “It’s not that creepy purple witch lady is it?” Enid asked worriedly as she fiddled with her clothing out of nervous habit.

“Agatha Harkness? The new witchcraft teacher, Yeah why?” You asked them, feeling as though they were hiding something that you weren’t aware of from how Wednesday, Enid, Ajax, Eugene and Xavier would share glances before looking back at you with a sense of melancholy. “She’s bad news y/n,” Ajax told you, “I heard she drains witches and warlocks of powerful magic for her own use.”

“We don’t want that happening to you.” Xavier added as Enid and Eugene agreed with the boys. You looked to Wednesday who was still trying to get a good read on your current thought processes. “What’s your verdict on all this Wednesday?” You asked, knowing that out of everyone, Wednesday’s judgement has never lead you astray and you trusted her wholeheartedly to be blunt and straightforward with her deductions.

“This is a bad idea on your behalf y/n,” she started, “Agatha Harkness is not to be trusted so blindly. She’s a snake and soon enough her venom will sink into you and turn you against us, which is what she wants. A powerful chaos witch to do her bidding.”

“Then what do you suggest I do? No one here is on my scale of magic nor understands it better then her. So if you wish for me to become more unstable in my control over my magic then the destruction of the school is on your hands.” You but back at them, flinging a bag over your shoulder and we’re about to leave the room when Ajax and Xavier attempted to stop you. “Listen y/n we can find someone else to help you, it’ll just take time.” Xavier tried to reassure you but it wasn’t enough as you used your magic to shove them aside and to the floor. “I don’t have time. I found the perfect teacher already and I’m not about to let your paranoia of Thornhill ruin that for me.” You told them as you left to meet up with Agatha in the Nightshade library.

“Your friends don’t trust me with you?” Agatha asked as she flicked through an old looking book. “No, they believe that you’ve got an agenda concerning me.” You told her truthfully as you flicked through another old looking book. Agatha looked at you from the corner of her eye. ‘This is the scarlet witch? They’re just a child?!’ She seethed. The power flowing through you were bountiful and seemingly endless that it made you a beacon for witches like her. Thankfully she had gotten rid of those that would try and help you understand your magic and took their place instead as a teacher. Nevermore was so easily fooled it was pathetic, getting close to you was almost Childs play for Agatha, no wonder the school was almost brought to it knees by a normie, a Hyde and a resurrected pilgrim just last semester.

“They’re just still reeling from the events of last semester as are you dear,” Agatha said sweetly as she joined your side and put a hand on your shoulder, “after I’m done with you, no harm shall ever come to your friends, ever again. Don’t you want that? To protect this school and your friends?” She asked.

“More then anything.” You said, almost as though you were in a trance. “Good.” Agatha cackled. “That’s good.”