#also the best part is that shin was always shorter

[chronic-shinposter]

i plan to refine this but it's kind of funnier in sketch form

[taintandviolent]

sin creeps in ; Nosferatu x Reader

summary: You're plagued by heinous nightmares of a mysterious monster, but you can't help but feel drawn to he who plagues you.

word count & w a r n i n g s: 1.5K | female reader, monster fucking, vampires, vampire sex, bloodplay, biting, drinking blood / blood loss, mentions of death, making out, smut, unprotected sex, mentions of accents, shadow play (fingering)????.

a/n: MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS FOR NOSFERATU 2024! this is just.... listen, I'm not even going to try to justisfy myself. rack up yet another hear me out moment for me. you either understand or you don't. shorter than I wanted it to be, but I needed to get this out and sate my hunger. banner by @/strangergraphics!

↓ full fic under cut! ↓ / playlist here / ao3 link here! / I don’t have a taglist anymore, but please turn on post notifications if you’d like to be notified of future fics!

You awake with a strangled gasp, your hands flying to your throat as your breath gradually returns. The nightmares had roused you, as they had every night, but this time, something lingered. Your room was frigid; the gauzy curtains fluttered in front of the open window like misplaced ghosts, allowing the chill of the night to penetrate your quarters. Everything looks terrifying at night; familiar shapes are transformed into horrible spectres, and your very room feels unknown. Unsafe. 

He is here. For the first time in several nights, you weren’t dreaming – he has come for you.

“I know that you are here with me,” you bravely whisper into the emptiness of your own bedroom. The wind whistled, a familiar sound, but something growled – growled in a language you didn’t speak, but understood. The voice was low, gravelly, and heavily accented. 

Hurriedly, you kick the sheets from your legs. The moonlight pales your skin, washing you in its blanch, bluish tone. Gripping your gown with both hands, you gather it up your thighs, exposing them to the cold. The chill of the wind hits your center, and you hiss through your teeth. Your head drops to your chest, and so does your gaze, watching patiently. At the edge of your bed, a large, slender shadow manifests. Him. 

You dare not look up. The feeling of his presence petrifies you, but also arouses you – letting a slick warmth pool deeply between your legs. 

The shadows continue to creep further up your bed, until they reach your feet, which twitch in response. Up, up, up… along your shins. Your skin prickles, and you shiver, doing your best to remain calm. Though he doesn’t touch you, you feel him. You feel every pass of his large hand as it makes its way up your body. His shadow glides over your hip, to your stomach and finally between your plump breasts, coming to a stop over your beating heart. It thumps away like a rabbit’s heart underneath the blackness of his form, and you hear a ragged, strained groan.

Then, with no warning, it moves down, leaving a cold, lifeless chill in its path like a gust of winter wind. You pant, desperately clinging to what breath you have. All at once, the shadow envelopes the soft, warm mound between your legs and your hands fall to the bed, bracing yourself. You have felt his ghostly touches for countless nights, tasting your body as a lover would, but each time your body climbed the peak, the sensations disappeared.  He comes to you in dreams, always leaving you unsatisfied. Your chest heaves in the night, cold droplets of sweat peppering your decollete and breasts. Your hands claw the sheets while you dream, but never reach euphoria.

Tonight, there are new sensations. The phantom wisp of his middle finger runs along the length of your slit. Grazing it. Somehow, you feel his finger part your wet folds, toying with your most sensitive areas. The nonexistent pads of his fingers sweep back and forth over your swelling clit, bringing a spasmodic twitch from each of your muscles. Wanting. Craving. While the sensation lacks the familiar warmth of a living man, it is bountiful with pleasurable feelings – your body responds embarrassingly; your shoulders shudder violently. 

He inhales, a deeply hollow sound. “You desire this… thine own body craves it….” 

The accent seems to fill his entire mouth, rumbling in his throat as he speaks slowly, drawing out each word like an incantation. You let out a plaintive moan, throwing your head back against the pillows, the down feathers crackling underneath you. As though he’s still pleasuring you, your hips writhe back and forth, practically convulsing with need. The shadow of his hand is gone from your body, replaced by the looming darkness of his physical form. After a moment of trepidation, you finally lift your head, and stare into the dark, terrifying eyes that watch you. 

You swallow hard. “I do.” 

A moment passes before you continue. “Take me as you will, for I am yours.” You consent again, desperate to convey your own insatiable hunger, your unimaginable need. 

Another intake of breath from him – it almost sounds labored, painful. His footsteps are dreadful as he moves around to the side of your bed. He’s tall, his form stretching towards the ceilings and towering over you, consuming your atmosphere as he had in your nightmares. His silhouette is large; enhanced by the countless furs he has on.

Weightlessly, his lithe, ghastly fingers reach for you and make contact with your form. They are cold, and the icy feeling of them penetrate the thin fabric of your nightgown. He moves gradually, but hungrily, feeling the curves of your body beneath the cotton. As he moves southward, his fingers skim over the peak of your breast, a nail catching on the swollen nipple. It hurts, but your chest jerks forward still, craving more of his touch. 

Pulling a breathy moan from deep within your throat, his long, sharp nails rake across the tender flesh of your thigh. It’s bathed in the silvery moonlight, which casts horrible, elongated shadows of his fingers down towards your center. He scrapes downward, his middle finger digging into the flesh enough to leave a reddened streak behind, but not so much to break the skin.

“P-please…” you mewl, looking up into his horrifying visage. The sight of him fills you with dread and disgust, but like a single drop of blood in water, it’s tainted with something else, something else that has been lingering in your system for days. 

He’s above you now, though you don’t remember seeing him move atop of you. Still, he’s there. The bed creaks as you push yourself into the mattress, whimpering underneath him. He lowers himself down onto you, the brush of his mustache tickles your face as he lingers above you. A second passes and his waiting mouth envelops yours. He tastes damp and cold, faintly of ash and earth. His tongue slips out and it too is cold, slipping wetly along your own and along your bottom lip. His kiss is dreadful, but possessive, and he inhales each time you exhale, as though he’s trying to suck the very warmth out of you. No man has kissed you the way Count Orlok kisses you, and the chill of the room disappears, snuffed out by the fire that rages in your lower abdomen. 

Your tongues collide with each other; you tasting his lifelessness, and him tasting your utterly intoxicating, vibrant liveliness. For a moment, the two of you stay intertwined at the mouth until he separates himself, smearing his mouth over the warmth of your neck. He hovers, pausing over your pulse. It thrums under his lips, and his hips urge into yours, indicating his hunger.

There is a shuffle, a rustling of clothing. You try to lift your head up to gaze between your bodies, but his hand holds you fast, pressing you against the pillow. The size of his hand is staggering; his palm underneath your chin, while the fingertips extend past your hairline, into the strands. You shudder again and whisper his name. He inhales as though he plans to speak, but doesn’t. 

The front of your nightgown falls apart, revealing your chest to him. With one hand covetously clutching your breast, his mouth opens between your breasts, the slithery coolness of his tongue gliding down along the length of your sternum. As the teeth puncture your flesh, your hands make fists on either side of your body, pulling the sheets into the confines of your palms. He enters you, in more ways than one, and you feel the steady tug of his mouth as he sucks the blood from your veins. Warmth pools in the cave of your stomach.

The fingers of his other hand crawl up your shoulder, and like a quill in ink, he dips the pads of his fingers into the hollow of your chest, coating them in your crimson essence. He smears the blood along your decollete, along the hem of your nightgown, tugging it harshly over your shoulder. The blood coats you in a flash of warmth, and then chill as it meets the cold air. 

His hips rut against yours as he drinks, the pulse of your blood matching the thrust of his hips. An ache starts in your neck, a slow pulling sensation that has your eyelids fluttering. He moves within you, his length penetrating as deeply as his sharpened teeth have. Your release is found amongst blood and groans and that same language which you understand, but do not speak. His tongue scrubs at your soft skin, lapping up the blood as it comes… as you do. 

The darkness is ever-looming, and as your aching cunt ebbs its throbbing, it settles down upon you. You let yourself fall backwards into the abyss, freely. It takes you, wrapping its arms around your tiny frame which is dwarfed by his stature. His mouth breaks free of your bloodied skin with a slick pop.  Into the softness of your skin, you hear him growl, ‘Mine.’ The feeling vibrates against your neck, and your lids flutter shut.

[alcoholfreenayeon]

Next Page

CW: SaHyo, fluff

A/N: it’s a bit late and shorter than I wanted it to be but I’ve been a bit busy. Happy birthday @frenchyypoo hope you like it

The cameras flashed as the Park Jihyo walked up to the stand, all eyes on her as she made her welcome speech and signed her contract for her new club. She had done it. Officially become a player for her dream team. The last year had been her breakthrough one, she went from just an academy player to quickly being signed by a decent team, being called up for her country and then being signed by one of the best clubs around which also was her dream team all within the past 12 months. As she was answering questions by the media, her thoughts couldn’t help but drift back a day to when she was doing her medical check up….

Jihyo entered the doctor’s room somewhat nervously. There was no real reason for her to be nervous, she was a top level athlete but alas medical check ups tended to cause this. She sat on the bed, tapping her feet anxiously. A minute later she heard footsteps and Jihyo straightened up. The door opened and the doctor entered, Jihyo nearly gasped out loud. The doctor was absolutely beautiful and for some reason quite familiar. Sipping her drink, Dr Sana entered the room with her little checklist. Upon seeing Jihyo already there, she smiled sweetly, the straw still in her mouth.

“Ahem, hi”, Jihyo said trying to compose herself but it was not working. She felt her cheeks flush and her heart pound.

“Hi!”, Sana replied cheerfully, putting her checklist on the table and sitting on it, crossing her legs. “Shall we begin?”

“Y-yeah…”, Jihyo replied looking away.

Sana began the medical and it lasted for 30 minutes but it felt like an eternity and at the same time only a few seconds to Jihyo.

“Oh, you still have this scar on your shin?”, Sana noted, rubbing her thumb on it.

“Yea-wait? How do you know about this?”, Jihyo asked, curious now because she got that scar a long time ago, back when she was still in the academy…

Sana smiles sadly, “I was there with you when you got that. You don’t remember me?”

Jihyo’s mind races back to those days, her mind going through all the people she knew back then. No one she thought of seemed to be like Sana…

“I was the one with the cap and tied hair”, Sana confessed somewhat shyly and nonchalantly.

Jihyo nearly falls off the bed, unable to believe her ears, “You what???? Sana!”, she stares at Sana, looking at the tag on her shirt to confirm. Jihyo remembered that girl really well. She wasn’t part of the players who were in the academy with her. But that girl was always in the crowd at the very front, watching quietly with her cap. Overtime Jihyo had become quite curious about her and once tried to give her a spare shirt as a gift but the girl had refused saying, “one day when you join your dream club then I’ll take it.”

“But you might not like that team”, Jihyo tried to convince her.

“It’s not about that. I like you”, she would say.

Jihyo was never sure if she meant that in a flirting manner or not. But she had a special bond with her, always talking with her before and after the games for some months. She didn’t realize it back then but she had developed a crush on her and only after leaving did she realize how big of a crush it was. It even became one of her biggest reasons to be determined to be successful so that somehow they can run into each other again when Jihyo fulfills her dreams and it seemed that had now happened.

Sana smiled, “I see that you remember now. I really rooted for you, you know. And I’m so happy I got to see you succeed like you wanted. Although when you left the academy, it was so sudden….i felt really lonely and hurt when I found out during the next game you know.”

Jihyo averted her eyes, “It was sudden…I didn’t know how long I had to accept the offer so I just did it as soon as possible to not have regrets. I’m sorry it was so rushed. It wasn’t until after they told me I had to move away the next day that I realized I wouldn’t be able to properly say my goodbyes to everyone who supported me.

Sana sighed and nodded, “Yes I understood that after a bit of time. But I still”, She pokes Jihyo’s nose, “expect you to make up for that. How could you leave me just like that”.

Jihyo suppressed a smile, “Don’t say that, if you weren’t so cold towards me maybe I’d have asked for your number and we would have kept in touch.”

Sana covered her mouth, her cheeks tinting slightly, “I was really busy with my studies all the time back then…it was stressful so I wasn’t in a good mood all the time…besides…”, Sana fidgets a little, “you can ask for it now…”, she said shyly and quietly.

Jihyo laughed but her face turned red too, “well…you are going to be my doctor..so I suppose I do need your number…”

Sana smiles shyly and writes down her number, handing it to Jihyo, “remember, I’m available anytime”, she said as she leaned in quite close to Jihyo’s face before quietly adding, “for you”.

“In that case I guess maybe I’ll make use of that luxury quite often”, Jihyo teased but her heart was pounding, “I’ll make it up to you for leaving so suddenly but only if you make up for being so cold.”

“Deal.”, Sana agreed smiling.

Jihyo was forced back into the present as the press conference ended and the flashing of the cameras started again. She smiled and waved as she made her exit, heading towards the infirmary, a smile on her face…

[just-prime]

Ahsoka is so slow I could cry. She was trained by Anakin and presumably Obi-wan and several other Jedi, and Rosario can hardly do an actual lightsaber twirl, let alone make me believe she could survive Ventress, Maul, Grievous, or Vader, survive order 66, or run in a way that looks fast. Bo-Katan moves faster, Shin moves faster, Sabine moves faster, Ezra moves faster, even Ewan's lazy twirls while walking around and not actively engaged in battle in the prequels were roughly as fast as Rosario's in an actual duel.

It's also canon that in this era, in a less prequels flashy version of standard Jedi abilities, a Jedi can leap SEVERAL feet. Luke in ROTJ- even GROGU can jump higher, while Rosario's feet are consistently glued to the ground. Her choreography and speed are so inconsistent with this established era and people keep writing it off and praising it as her fighting like a samurai now, even though it makes NO sense for her to, given who trained her. She isn't A New Hope Obi-wan, nor sad cave dwelling Obi-wan who hasn't stretched or lifted a weapon in a decade, and a 44 year old Jedi is still supposed to be in their prime.

I truly wonder if part of it is that they can't keep her lekku on properly if she does a flip, and they are shorter because they were meant to be more practical, but I'm really not seeing a character agile enough to need stunt modified lekku.

If they couldn't bring this to life in live action convincingly, it should have remained animated and each passing week demonstrates this more and more.

I'm sorry to anon into your inbox like this, but your post about the last episode has been so refreshing, and I've felt like I've been watching a completely different show than other people and don't know how they considered any of the actors ready. (Rosario has said she was training during filming). Thank you for your brutally honest take, you're spot on on all counts.

Couple of things.

A) I agree with everything you just said. Always feel free to come and rant into my asks.

B) I HAVE BEEN ANTI TINY LEKKU SINCE MANDO S2. It's laughable that we've seen cosplayers with more Rebels accurate headpieces. And of course everyone defends it with the 'it wouldn't be fair to the stunt person to have them try and do flips in that' and it's like NEWSFLASH Ahsoka isn't doing flips anyway!!! And sure, they probably stuck Rosario in a 5 week sword training class, but she's clearly not had to do any serious combat training given how clunky her fights are. And again, this was also a problem back in Mando s2, only she was in the middle of a foggy woods, so it was easier to hide the fact that she is incompetent when it comes to fight choreography.

C) "If they couldn't bring this to life in live action convincingly, it should have remained animated" Exactly. This is why every passing day I am increasingly pissed that this show killed and ate the animated Rebels sequel series that was in fucking development. Everything about this show, from Ahsoka, to Hera (hell, even TBoBF cameos like Cad Banes) prove that Disney is not willing to shell out for a decent makeup and/or CG designer. No shade to the artists that are currently working on it, they are doing their jobs to the best of their abilities. What I mean is they didn't have anyone on set that was in a high enough positions to say 'Hey, have any of you heard of contouring?' Like, just looking at the alien makeup of the OT...which somehow holds up better than state of the art Disney budget makeup. It's just fucking embarrassing at this point. There is no reason everyone should look as flat as they do, but it's no surprise that they do when mary elizabeth winstead is celebrating that her makeup only took an hour. Sure, it's understandable that you don't want to be sitting in the makeup chair every morning of hours on end, but in the end you are an actor who signed up to play an alien...Suck it up buttercup.

D) I totally understand how hard it is to be not liking this show right now. The amount of people who've told me that "well, clearly it's just not made for you" after I point out a simple fact that a character is out of character is painful. Looking at twitter after each episode as everyone seems to think Filoni is creating the second coming is painful. Because it really does feel like we're watching a different show than them.

Okay, I think I covered everything. Thank you again for your kind words and your wonderful rant!!!

[scooby-snacs]

Marauders Modern Sport/Activity Edition 101 Comparison

did anyone ask for this? no. am i going to haphazardly tell anyone in a random post on a very mundane Saturday anyway? abso-freaking-lutely.

James Potter - ICE HOCKEY

he makes the calls, he keeps the team together in the dressing room. he’s the first one on the ice and the last one to leave. he power skated in his youth to know his blades more like an extension to him. through losses and wins he keeps it upbeat, he knows when to call it. he pulls the fancy spins the quick turns the digging and battles at boards and around the net. he’s always the first to pass rather than going in for a one timer. he gets nearly triple the amount of assists than he does goals, not because he can’t get the shot and the buzzer singing from the net, but because he doesn’t need the stats. He’s here to play, as a team not as a sole person.

SIDE NOTE: see CONNOR MCDAVID

Sirius Black - ICE HOCKEY

he knows his edges, he can weave and spin with the best. He’s the one to pull a stop out of nowhere and go scrambling in the next direction. likewise he isn’t afraid to be a hard hitter to smash an opponent into the boards to pull a man off his teammate at the net. he looks after the team, he’s the big brother- the protector and the defender but sometimes he does it a little to well and finds himself spending more time than necessarily helpful in the sin-bin. he’s the brutality of the sport, but also the art of it. he energized the team by getting them going when they’re down and has a killer slap shot. he might not call the plays on the ice, but he’s the one to keep the plays alive.

SIDE NOTE: see QUINN HUGHES

Remus Lupin - COURT VOLLEYBALL

great setter, always calculating the game, and trusting his players to get the ball across the net. able to land the last hit and direct to the available uncovered sections across the court. likewise a very powerful and well-aimed serve could be the end all to the game. he controls the game how hard they hit and how fast the pace. it’s delicate but not outwardly so unless he makes it such. he likes the control it gives him, that he makes decisions, that he has choices.

Peter Pettigrew - GOLF

high points are a blunder and he likes the high stakes game. it’s the type of sport where the goal is to play less to win. which is just Peter’s speed. likewise it’s something recreationally that allows him to mess around in a golf cart and take the boys out for a Sunday afternoon with some refreshments like beer in the cooler and take part in a more domestic game of it that he would lovingly refer to as “whack-&-dash”

Regulus Black - FIGURE SKATING (ice dancing) & BALLET

was in ballet as a child until he came to the realization that his feet didn’t have the natural arches that better yourself for the sport, late into ice skating it soon became more apparent that he could still retain his artistic routes but ‘wow’ on the ice much like Sirius. he was naturally gifted at knowing his blades, they were like a second extension to him. He felt like he lost an arm when he was without them. he primarily did solo routines, due to his shorter stature and weight, partnered routines never moulded well with him, he was better on the ice alone. for him to succeed with a partner on the ice they would have to be willing to grant him the female counterparts roles, as that is what he was accustomed to skating and doing- he tried training for lifts but his size left him lacking. He was strong and brilliant in his spins and corrections working endlessly for perfection.

Barty Crouch JR. - SOCCER (eurpoean football)

in it to win at whatever cost. cleats to his shins when kicking, nasty wipe outs and grass stains on his arms, legs and cheeks from diving for the ball. He would be the first to go down screaming from another teams missed kick, and the first to be jumping in during a scrum. he’s all passion and fire on the field. deadly fast and deadly accurate not only by his aim- but not particularly showy about his skills. there’s no fancy dribbling and passes. he keeps it simple, from player to player passes and then the ball to the net. strong believer in the KISS method (keep it simple stupid)

Evan Rosier - COURT BASKETBALL

he would be tall, not the one to run up centre but to always pass the ball for another more able body could take the shot. Calculating and accessing as he changed positions on the court to always be open. It would be delivering sneaky elbows and trips to opposition when the refs attention was otherwise turned to keep his lane free so others could send the ball to him. he wasn’t be afraid to take the penalties and do the dirty work to get was needed completed.

Lily Evans - COURT VOLLEYBALL

she would have a powerful serve and instead of setting the pace of the game and setting the plays at centre she would be a hitter at the net or a power hitter from the back. she would leap for the balls with scrapped knees from slipping pads and go down hard every play. She would throw all hands in and be the first to leap at her teammates in an eccentric hug at the end of each set. Deadly focus to win but having a blast getting there as she did her part.

Marlene McKinnon - BASEBALL

it’s competitive and it’s often summed as a male only sport. She would in her youth have been on all-boys teams, likely having the hardest curveball and be an excellent pitcher. I could see her having deadly aim and accuracy when at the mound. when batting she’d recklessly abandon herself to the thrill of going base-to-base, and always going for a base steal. no hesitation and full trust in her team to do what needed to be done to win. she’d be ruthless.

Pandora Ollivander - GYMNASTICS

particularly the artistic gymnastics. since not only is it an exceptional art form but it requires and represents a very unique set of talent and strength to compete. it can be beautiful, but it can also be very hideous at times come competition and rulings with its ridicule by others. it’s countless repetition on getting your holds and your standings right and your balancing on the precise on falling or rising. it is an all stakes sport, which I think captures her well. (also a very small willowy blonde with long blonde hair doing flips and switches from beams and poles…)

SIDENOTE: see SIMONE BILES

incase it wasn’t obvious I’m quite the hockey fan, every other sport I know only preliminary knowledge about from highschool and college lol. anyway cheers!

[cookiekat-blogz]

Why do Akutagawa and Atsushi fit Yin and Yang so well?

may or may not be inspired by some sskk rant I saw on tumblr a few months ago (I'll reference if I remember the creator) and a Pinterest post w this template:

Has anyone else ever notice how yin-yang Akutagawa and Atsushi are? Yeah they are both orphans that were taken in by Dazai and "abused by their handler" ('handler' is wild ngl) but in the main series Atsushi is more Yang and Akutagwa is more Yin, character wise, and even design wise. Yet, in Beast (a spin-off where Akutagawa ends up in the ADA and Atsushi ends up in the PM) the roles are reversed and Aku is more Yang and Atsu is more Yin, further emphasizing that this difference between the two isn't accidental (not claiming simply speculating).

Akutagawa is relatively bad but he has shown how he could be good, in the main series, Wan, and beast. he's undeniably a good brother (just look at how much he cares for his sister in beast, he even joined the ADA and made it his purpose to find her after he learned that she was in the mafia.) He keeps promises, hates meaningless torture-- which believe it or not shows a bit about his character-- (haha he does have emotions even if it may be stemmed from a deep psychological trauma). He also has a mainly dark but light accent wardrobe, from the ends of his hair to the very same accessory that he can't even name. help I ran out of good character traits I think I'm failing

Atsushi is relatively good, and even seems to be blind to it at times, but he has shown his not the best traits. He's kinda like Gon, but less merciless, even when it comes to fights with Akutagawa (sometimes). His good:bad ratio is pretty skewed though, no matter how much he may envy or hate his kindness kinda just... drowns it out. Evil headmaster dies? cry. Evil goth boyfriend partner dies? scream. Evil American enemy still lives? team up with him. Evil 14 year old serial assassin in the port mafia exist? save her.

Although, he's pretty rash/blunt (that Dazai diss was wild aku didn't do anything to deserve that) and its also shown in wan and other scenes in the main series that he would probably participate in a 2017-19 roast battle(hj) and holds some strong grudges. (help I ran out of bad character traits he's too good, its like he's so good and he doesn't even try.) Butttt apperence wise, his singular black hair streak in a head of light whatever-colored-hair (in contrast to Akutagawa's) and accents of black (suspenders, tail-belt-thing that moves as if he was Cat Noir, tie, gloves, pants, shoes) do what Akutagwa's 19th century ruffles do best. Be utterly useless and ugly and feed into the theory that he is a time traveler Contrast.

Now for beast. I'll make this one shorter:

Akutagawa takes Atsushi's role. in this he represents 'in light there is darkness' perfectly. he's on the 'good side' and has the noble goal of finding his sister and his color pallate is lighter but he is still pretty quick to judge and isn't open or super kind.

Atsushi is considered ruthless (because of how violently and mercelesly quick and cold he kills but its really the tiger) but he himself admits that he is scared, scared of it all, especially death (or something like that) so to over come his fear of death, he must become it. That's it. He became the 'god of death' because of his fear of it. His color pallate is much darker and the lightest parts of it is the tiger fur on his coat and his natural features like hair and eyes. He's on the side of 'bad' but he even betrayed dazai for kyouka because he cares about her too much and that part of him he cant change. he will always want to protect all the orphan kids that were suffering like he was because he cant bare to see it, so yeah, in darkness there is light.

Basically, Shin Soukoku canon because opposites attract.

(this is from #9 1/2 of my "why Akutagwa is the best bsd character ever" post)

[mojo-dojo-cracka-house]

Ayo buddy, watch it I'm waukin 'ere (Pinned Post)

Sup bitchesssss, we're a bunch of crazy people who are insane but also slightly funny but just slightly.

3 Mods:

@thebluekid-underyourbed

@chaosreinbrothered

@unknowncorvidae

This is a silly little family AU because we're a silly little hypothetical family!! We're a little stupid so be warned you might lose braincells.

Ursa: the world-weary mother. She’s given up trying to reign in the family and now just sits back and watches them commit arson and kill the world. A raging alcoholic but only for comedic purposes. She has a high tolerance to alcohol and never gets drunk. Could chug vodka without blinking. Loves both her queer and cishet kids and would snap the neck of anyone who dares even look at them in a rudely. Penguin.

Ad: the neighborhood kid. He’s not even part of the family biologically and legally speaking. One day they waddled up to Ursa and the next day Ursa announced everyone now had an emotionally adopted sibling. They hang out around the house and create chaos with the family. Tortures people for the heck of it (a telltale sign of potential serial killers, according to rumors), threatens to fuck people with Cranberry, commits arson with the Roomba (and is sometimes caught actively encouraging it to run over the dog poop and track it around the house), etc. A pleasure to have in class.

Splat: elder sibling who is shorter than everyone. Very smart and super cool. She’s probably the second-most sensible person in the family. Has her own fair share of a criminal record. Mostly physical assault and some light arson here and there. Barely has her life together but it makes her a funnier person so there’s that. Fucking legend. Controlled chaos.

Osmosis: younger sibling who towers over everyone. Has never cussed, will never cuss, does not cuss. He does, however, willingly be the Guy In The Chair. Is the distraction in most crimes. Is the sneaky boi too. Likes setting off the plan. He’ll throw the bomb that will distract the guards, light the dynamite to draw away the police, etc. Enjoys coding. Has been known to tell the Roomba to draw dicks. Wholesome but will snap all 206 of your bones before finally killing you without hesitation or remorse. Weirdly obsessed with shoulders and Pokemon. Can code though, so there's that

Cranberry: middle child and middle height. Threatens to fuck literally everyone. Helps Ad catch the animals he tortures and watches. Points at every single fictional character and draws attention to their asses. Thinks the monkeys from Wizard of Oz were sexy. Cleans faer glasses with soap and water. Excels at school because of course fae does. Will break your shins. Enjoys finding loopholes to even the simplest instructions. A pleasure to have in class.

Ai: tired wine aunt. Aggressively ADHD. Best sister and aunt ever. Always sneaks candy in pockets, encourages crimes, doesn’t care about bedtimes, tells Ursa the kids behaved very well while she was out of the house thank you very much, etc (obviously Ursa knows but the house isn’t on fire so she considers that a win). Is drunk all the time, but somehow always manages to be a light drunk. Not drunk enough to crash the car, not drunk enough to be loopy, nothing. She is just always seen with a wine glass filled to the brim (never spilled anything in her life) and she always just seems sliiiiiightly tipsy. Never more, never less. Ursa says her sister seemed like that ever since they were kids.

Jiyuu: hobo. Always seen carrying around a sieve for some reason. Not even carrying around - it’s just in his pockets all the time. Jun Leaf calls it a holebowl and nobody has called it anything else. Hobo with a holebowl. Cranberry took one look at Jiyuu on his first visit to the family and promptly said, “You look like a hobo.” Jiyuu has never lived that down. Jiyuu enjoys teaching crimes and controversial stuff. He makes sure all the kids are aware that Australia is a lie. He talks about WWII and stuff and pins it on random people. He says murder is good and the kids repeat his arguments to everyone they meet. The hotdog guy at the baseball stadium did 9/11. Always manages to look 36 and 93 and 12 at the same time.

The Roomba (AKA Jun Leaf): mix of BB8 and Roomba. There’s no question in anyone’s mind that it is alive. It showed up one day and has just been in the house ever since. One day Ursa complained about the constant mess around the house, and the next day there was the Roomba. A few days later, Splat commented that the Roomba kept showing up in places that there was no way it could reach and it was almost like it was alive. They name it Jun Leaf as a joke. The next morn, the Roomba has Googly eyes taped on it. Nobody knows who taped the Googly eyes. Every 18th of November, the Roomba is found with a blue birthday hat.

Jun ?: an alternate? One day there was a kid on the couch sitting crisscrossed with the Roomba on his lap. Said he broken out of the mirror. He showed them the mirror that sat in the supply closet where the Roomba was supposed to always return to after doing it’s periodic cleaning of the house. It was broken. Nobody believed vim until ve said vis name was Jun ? and then held up the Roomba and asked for its name. Hangs around the house. Always has pieces of mirror in vis hair and clothes. Is the human embodiment of the Roomba. Often found with the Roomba in vis hands.

NotAd: Sometimes Ad shows up to the house hollering for blood. Other times NotAd shows up hollering for food. Ursa worried something happened to her child the first time NotAd made an appearance. NotAd is Ad just reversed. The family speculates NotHim to also be from the mirror (mostly because NotHim looks exactly like Ad but is left-handed). Somehow always has a mirror shard on NotHim (similar as to how Ad somehow always has a pocket knife). Palms of NotHis hands have scars that look like NotHe pushes their way through glass.

Oscar: Osmosis but as a virtual entity. Odiend2 first appeared on Osmosis' computer, much to Osmosis' surprise (he just walked in and there Odiend2 was, a perfect reflection of him waving at himself). Odiend2 has also showed up on the TV screen, spoke to the family through the TV speakers, and occasionally beeps the microwave in some form of code. The Roomba beeps back (somehow; the Roomba has no voice box). Odiend2 helps Osmosis out with coding but also enjoys randomly deleting files. An oddball (like Osmosis, lol) but he gets an excuse because he’s a virtual thing and cannot wreak actual havoc.

[so2uv]

[ 📂 ] — FILE LOADED:

AMARYLLIS — THE UNREDEEMABLE IN THE EYES OF MANY.

❝now, now. we are but simple acquaintances; no more, no less. don't get it twisted.❞ — amaryllis (playlist)

— PROFILE.

NAME: Vincent Song

AGE: 20

HEIGHT: 5'9 | 175.8 cm

GENDER: Male (he/him)

SEXUALITY: demisexual/romantic

BIRTHDATE: November 13 (Scorpio)

ALIASES & NICKNAMES: Amaryllis (vigilante name), Vin

LIKES: Coffee, sour candies, sunsets, sleep, throwing knives (the action or the objects?), being a vigilante

DISLIKES: Heavy chocolate cakes, vegetables, constantly being labelled as a villain/bad guy, the justice system (specifically the role that heroes play in it), being a vigilante, blood

— PRIVATE NOTES.

APPEARANCE: Vincent has a warm beige skin tone and carries about a set of broad shoulders, slim waist, and a good set of muscles. His wavy, dark brown hair is shorter in the front with a blonde streak on the side. Longer side pieces and backing reach down past his nape, stopping just above his collarbones. Vincent has misty grey eyes that swirl with hints of light purple in them. 

Vincent has multiple scars, the most noticeable one on his face that runs diagonally through his left eyebrow, ending by his left temple. He has some that litter his knuckles, upper arms, shoulders and back. There’s only a few on his legs, ones that are mainly faded and from childhood. The largest one is directly under his ribs on the right side. When looking closely, one can see faint freckles that dust his nose and part of his cheeks under his eyes.

CLOTHING: His everyday outfits often consist of button ups, messy neck ties, sweater vests, belts, and a usually monochromatic colour palette; besides white, black, and grey, he can sometimes be seen with red and purple articles of clothing mixed in with his outfits. 

Vincent’s vigilante attire is made up of a black sleeveless turtleneck with a loose white button up, that exposes his shoulder on one side, worn overtop. He dons a black harness that is fitted across his chest, and wears a long black coat that reaches his calves with wide long sleeves. He has black techwear pants that are tucked into black lace up boots that go up to his mid shin. The boots have red laces with charms strung on. Black gloves that end just above his wrist are worn for identity protection.

The final pieces of his vigilante attire are a white domino mask with the eye area being blocked with see through black fabric, and utility belt. He keeps pre folded paper, knives for throwing and close contact fighting, and a roll of bandages plus other small medical supplies.

PERSONALITY: A man of many faces. Vincent in his civilian persona is distant; the type of person you want to know but can’t. He speaks in a calm manner, quick to the point of the conversation and tone smooth and light yet seeming uninterested. He always stays in the middle ground; sociable but not outgoing, smart but not with honours. With this, no one assumes a thing. Vincent blends in himself into the background, believing it to be the best way to live, not wanting any relationships getting caught up in the life he has. 

Amaryllis is a different story. When donning the mask, banter is often heard during his fights. Sarcastic and quick witted comments are thrown about with barely any hesitation, all done with a smirk on his face. False confidence is a building block of this persona; cocky at times. Intelligent is he; fast to analyze and problem solve while managing to take note of the way a person ticks, how they feel and think in a moment. 

But he’s also ruthless. Guilty and mercy have been long forgotten in his vocabulary as he does what he believes is necessary to keep the city sane because if heroes and their righteous ways won’t fix things, blunt force and gruesome display might. When fed up or frustrated, he turns cold; voice level as he performs some of the most brutal actions.

ABBILITIES: Being among the small percentage of people born with the specific gene mutation, Vincent is able to manipulate paper; breathing life into as if it were truly an animate object. By controlling its movements, he can use this power both defensively and offensively. Origami is a common practice he uses, using paper animals as scouting tools. Vincent can control paper within a certain radius or, seemingly creating his own out of thin air.

Vincent has exceptional hearing for someone whose ability isn’t related to the senses. As a kid, he’s been able to hear the chaos that happens at night. From the cat jumping down a ledge two doors down to the sound of a crying baby a block away, Vincent can hear and acknowledge. “A blessing and a curse, as cheesy as that may sound.” he likes to say.

Having done the job since the age of 14, Vincent is an adept fighter, knowing how to knock a person out within a few hits and the vital points that can lead to a kill. Growing up having to brawl his way to the top in his neighbourhood has also helped.

OCCUPATION: A lone vigilante in the middle of a crumbling city. He’s often more active at night, prime time for criminal activity. Despite taking down only people he deems to be corrupt and “bad”, heroes and civilians still see him as a villain who’s part of the notorious crime organization in the city, due to the methods he uses to hunt and eliminate criminals. Is also a student at the city’s university.

HOBBIES: With his life being packed to the brim between being a notorious vigilante and a university student, Vincent really only has time for a few of the finer things in life. Origami is something that felt like an obligation at first, having to learn and get good at it in order to hone his ability, but it soon became a calming activity for stress, clearing his mind, and solving problems. Painting is something he had also taken up, keeping hand painted images of the city’s scenery stored in a little box under his bed. After a late night of painting, his hands can often be seen stained with ink and oil paints the next morning.

STRENGTHS: Vincent’s strengths mainly stem from his time as a vigilante. He has great agility, can lie and/or sweet talk his way out of almost any situation, and exceeds excellent control over his ability. 

He’s a sociable person, being able to strike up a conversation fairly easily and quickly forming a light bond with someone else. While he doesn’t consider himself friendly by any real means, it’s undeniable that he’s easy to talk to.

Can easily keep his emotions in check, not letting personal connections interfere with his line of work or daily life. He barely lashes out at people and can withstand harsh comments and criticism without the need to raise his voice back.

WEAKNESSES: With many late nights of homework and street work, Vincent is often left missing out on a good amount of sleep, resulting in his thoughts being more muddled and slowed. His judgement of people can be clouded if he’s tired enough. 

He seems organized enough on the outside but he’s terrible at keeping to a proper schedule. Vincent once said he would only go on duty every Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and Sunday but ended up ditching that after a week due to being too restless about what might be happening outside. 

Vincent tends to repress things too much, mainly regarding emotions. He’s quick to shove down lingering feelings into a small bottle and go on without a second thought, sealing things tight and out of his sight. While he doesn’t lash out often, those close to him since he was younger worry that one day, when the wrong person comes along, all of the anger and frustration will come pouring out.

RELATIVES: father (deceased), mother (status unknown), younger brother (status unknown), younger sister (deceased)

[godly-jihyo]

sweet talker (h. yeji x c. jisu)

A/N I don’t know jack shit about baseball or how to write kisses....

1800+ words

TW// badly written injury??

Summit High had good sports teams, with each of them making it pretty far in their respective tournaments, but the baseball team was the best by far. They were also well known, not just because of their skills, but also the charismatic team members. The team was co-ed and average-sized, but there were certain team members who got more playing time than others. Hwang Yeji was arguably the school’s best pitcher by a long shot, but she was also very skilled at batting, which made her a rare double threat. The starting lineup usually consisted of two of Yeji’s closest friends, Shin Yuna and Shin Ryujin. Yuna had stunned the school by getting onto the varsity team in her freshman year. Ryujin was popular for her ability to charm anyone, and her ability to hit almost any type of pitch. Yeji, Ryujin, and Yuna only became friends because of the team, and they each have their own appreciation for the sport.

Part of their roaring popularity was thanks to the school’s newspaper. There were many great articles written about them, the majority of which were written by Choi Jisu. Since she transferred to Summit High from a school in Canada, everyone called her Lia. She was in charge of the school newspaper. Lia didn’t like sports, but she would happily sit through a game she didn’t understand and considered boring just to watch Yeji doing something she loved. Yeji caught her eye the first game she played at the school. She blew everyone away with her pitching speed and professional technique, but that’s not what caught Lia’s eye. No matter how good Yeji was at baseball, she never acted like she was better than others because of it. She had always respected everyone, and when Lia made eye contact with her in the hallways, Yeji gave her a shy, little eye smile. When Lia went to the celebratory dinner with the team to interview them, Yeji always made sure Lia ate with them and felt comfortable. Not to mention that every time Lia had interviewed the team, the baseball player made sure the other team members got just as much credit as she did. It was safe to say Lia had a small (or maybe not so small) crush on the slightly older girl.

The game that would qualify the school’s baseball team for a national championship was about to start, and the crowd was waiting anxiously, Lia included. The teams walked on the field and the game began quickly. They were giving a new member of the team, a freshman named Jooyeon, a chance to pitch, which Lia didn’t really understand. Yeji was left to play first base. The game went well until the 5th inning. The opposing team was at-bat, there was one out and someone was on first base. Lia was sitting in the home team’s dugout, hoping to get a closer look (at Yeji). 

The batter hit the ball and it soared towards center field, where Yuna was waiting. It came down fairly close to second base, so she was able to catch it and throw it there in time to get the runner out. The second baseman, a Junior named Chaeyoung, then tossed it towards first base, and Yeji caught it. She was running to first base, and so was the batter. The first baseman increased her pace, but the girl from the other team tried to slide into first base. Lia didn’t know what had happened until she heard a loud cry of pain. She recognized the voice and immediately shot to her feet. Yeji had gotten hurt. 

Lia quickly stood from her previously seated position and looked towards first base where Yeji was seated. No one was around her, and everyone was frozen in shock. Of course players got hurt during games, but no one had ever expected the pain to be so intense that the Hwang Yeji would be crying out in pain. Lia’s feet moved faster than her mind, and she went charging onto the field towards the silver-haired girl. When she got there, she bent down to Yeji’s level. 

Yeji was clutching her left ankle, and Lia quickly noticed. The shorter girl put a hand on the injured girl’s shoulder, causing her to look up at Lia who was slightly out of breath from running out onto the field. Lia helped her up and almost crumpled under the weight Yeji was putting on her. By now, the coach had come to check up on Yeji, and he offered to take her. Lia wouldn’t let anyone touch Yeji. For some reason, she felt like she needed to protect Yeji and make sure she would get the medical attention she so clearly needed.

“Where should I take her,” Lia asked with a slightly panicked tone in her voice, and a slight pink dusted over her cheeks. The coach looked down at the short girl with a knowing look on his face and pointed to the door behind the dugouts.

“You can go through that door, just take her to the nurse’s office.” Lia wasted no time in starting to walk Yeji in the direction that the coach pointed to. Lia was rushing to get there but didn’t notice how quickly she was going until Yeji said something.

“I think I can make it the rest of the way by myself. Thanks for the help,” Yeji said, looking at the ground. There was a blush on her cheeks from being so close to Lia. Lia looked at her with widened eyes. 

“Are you serious? Absolutely not.” Lia practically scoffed out in disbelief as she began gently dragging Yeji towards the nurse’s office. They were both blushing madly, and Lia’s eyebrows were furrowed in thought. Yeji’s eyes didn’t leave the floor until they reached their destination. 

Lia pushed open the door, only to find it completely empty. She practically forced Yeji to sit down in a chair while she kneeled on the floor in front of her. She gently untied Yeji’s worn cleats and took them off before untucking Yeji’s pants from her once white baseball socks that were now smeared with dirt. As Lia struggled to take off Yeji’s baseball sock, Yeji let out a soft whimper. Lia looked up at the girl whose eyes were now shut and her eyebrows furrowed. Lia frowned slightly before reminding herself to be gentle. 

As she examined Yeji’s now swollen and purple ankle, Yeji looked down at the girl with a soft glance. Her mind was racing, but yet empty all at once in a weird way that she had never experienced before. Lia wordlessly stood up and began sifting through the many drawers. Yeji was quickly pulled from her thoughts as Lia returned with an ice pack she had managed to find in a tattered old mini-fridge in the corner of the room.

“It looks like it’s sprained pretty badly,” Lia murmured under her breath. She was so quiet Yeji almost missed it as she was too focused admiring how cute the girl in front of her looked with her eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Lia looked up at Yeji before speaking in a gentle voice, “Let me know if I’m hurting you okay?” Yeji nodded with flushed cheeks and a small smile before Lia proceeded to gently set the ice pack on Yeji’s now ironically baseball sized sprained ankle. Yeji cringed at the coldness of it, and Lia, noticing, quickly and instinctively reached for her hand. Yeji cleared her throat causing Lia to look up at her questioningly. 

“Thanks, you know you didn’t have to do this right?” Yeji looks into Lia’s eyes and they make eye contact. Yeji notices something different in the shorter girl’s eyes, something that made her hopeful. Lia opened her mouth, looking for the right words before closing it and shaking her head. She looked down, breaking their eye contact. Yeji pouted slightly before Lia looked back up at her.

“Why do you have to be so pretty?” Lia asked slightly frustrated. Yeji’s eyes widened and Lia continued to speak. “Of course I’d help you, I mean..” She trailed off slightly before taking a deep breath and finding the confidence to do what she was about to do. 

“I like you…. Like LIKE like you…” Lia almost whispers, the confession coming out as mostly air. Lia slightly fidgets with the ice pack. When Lia looked up at Yeji, she was looking down at her with a wide smile. Yeji squeezed Lia’s hand, encouraging Lia to continue.

“I know we’re just friends, and we don’t even hang out that much, but I wanna be.. With you.” Lia trailed off at the end once again. Yeji carefully unlaced her hand from Lia, causing the kneeling girl to look up, worry evident in her face. Yeji was smiling broadly at the girl, and she placed her hand on the brunette’s cheek. Yeji was blushing immensely by now, and all the worry fell from Lia’s face. 

“I wanna be with you too Lia.” Yeji’s face was bright red as she confessed her feelings to Lia. In another sudden burst of confidence, Lia leaned forwards quickly, capturing the star baseball players lips in a kiss, and in the process letting the ice pack fall to the floor. Yeji was surprised, but soon melted into it, returning the other girl’s affections. Lia moved her hands to Yeji’s shoulders, before she stood up, breaking the kiss.

Lia smiled down at the girl before bending down to retrieve the ice pack and handed it to Yeji. Their fingers brushed as Lia passed it off. Yeji stood up, careful not to put too much pressure on her injured ankle, and Lia grabbed onto her to steady her. 

“Let’s go,” Yeji said, “You still have to watch the game to write about it.” Lia chuckled and rolled her eyes as the two girls set off towards the field again. 

“It won’t be interesting now that you're not playing anymore,” Lia teased, pressing a kiss to Yeji’s cheek. Lia and Yeji returned to the team’s dugout smiles painting their faces. Seeing that the two girls had returned, Yeji’s teammates patted her on the back as Lia led her to the bench to sit. Yeji’s coach flashed the two a knowing smile before thanking Lia. She bowed slightly before heading to leave the dugout, but Yeji grabbed her wrist and pulled her to sit down.

“Stay.” She whispered. Lia nodded with a smile before turning towards the game again. Yeji however, kept looking at Lia, admiring the girl’s features. She carefully put a hand under her chin, turning the girl’s head to face her. Lia looked at her with a confused face, taking in the playful glint in Yeji’s eyes. Yeji pulled the girl in for another kiss, and they smiled slightly into it as Yeji’s teammates cheered at the sight.

[riversidewings]

"Hand in Hand," a Confluence story

In which, shortly after the events of Confluence, blade doll River M59A1 and her wife and Wielder, Isawa Kasu, find that their wireless interlink means they sometimes cross into each other's dreams. With the two of them aiming to become mothers, River is trying her best to engage the part of herself that's still a scared kid, and reparent her.

That night, after what had seemed like an interminable parade of meetings across three days, heading up the Santaku delegation visiting the MOD compound in Ichigaya, River and Kasu caught the last bullet train north out of Shinagawa.

After they got to their seats, Wielder and blade doll fell asleep bone-tired.

⚔️

And after a long while in the oblivion of exhaustion where the line between sleep and wakefulness blurred, Kasu found herself on a dusty road, beneath a bullet-riddled wall, in mid-stride as she wove around a pothole that looked suspiciously like a mortar crater.

The road smelled of gas, asphalt chips, and trash, but it turned ahead, rose slightly, through a great-iron gate that hung ajar with hope though it was anchored by expectation and duty.

Instinctively, the Wielder reached for her utility knife. She knew this wasn't the mundane world.

The compound, beyond its sprawling parking lot in the shadow of high, concrete walls, looked part fortress and part warehouse in its unadorned sturdiness. A broken sign in French and Arabic, welcomed visitors to an institution whose name had been lost to malice and neglect.

A distant playground. A tall fence. Basketball hoops rusted and repainted. Classrooms dimly visible through dusty windows. In the distance, beyond the walls, rose brown hills mottled with green, and somewhere, dimly through the smog, the Wielder could've sworn she saw a snow-capped mountain.

The wind shifted, bearing the scent of pain and duty, always duty, choking the air nearly as much as the smell of trash and exhaust from the highway.

Kasu extended her knife and slashed the air.

"Rin, pyo, to, sha, kai, jin, retsu, zai....zen!"

The air seemed to push back harder with each cut, until it knocked her on her back.

"Kontsukishooo..." <Feckin' hell...>

As she rolled back to her knees and then rose, Kasu caught sight of a familiar blue-maned doll in blue-gray working uniform, in the shade by where the playground began. But this time, there was no doubt in the Wielder's mind, when she saw the younger blue-haired girl beside River: this was the doll's past.

The bespectacled shorter girl looked positively ecstatic, bouncing up and down as she twirled in a brand new winter-length school uniform, the swirling skirt's knife-pleats still sharp.

"And...and I get to keep this? Can...Can I keep it?" the girl pleaded.

"Would I lie to myself, kiddo?" the doll laughed, patting the girl on the shoulder. "Of course you can keep it! Now chin up. You got this."

"What if Mom and Dad find out, though?"

"Tell them I said hello and to back the fuck off," the doll reassured the girl. "Don't let anyone give you shit for being who you are, y'hear me?"

The girl flung her arms around the doll in gratitude, and the doll squeezed back.

As she stood spellbound and silent, Kasu felt the wind shift.

It was cool, and it seemed to carry her aloft...

⚔️

Kasu lurched awake with a gasp. Outside the window, the nighttime landscape of greater Tokyo whizzed past. Dimly, she caught snippets of hushed conversation from people in nearby seats.

Her heart was pounding hard.

A gentle chime played over the PA. The automated recording was strangely jarring to the disoriented Wielder.

"Honjitsu mo Tōhoku Shinkansen o goriyō kudasaimashite, arigatō gozaimasu. Kono densha wa Aoba-gō, Shin-Aomori yuki desu. Zensha shiteiseki de, jiyūseki wa gozaimasen. Tsugi wa Ōmiya ni tomarimasu..."

<Ladies and gentlemen, welcome on board the Tohoku Shinkansen. This is a Aoba Super Express bound for Shin-Aomori, also stopping at Ōmiya. All seats on this train are reserved. Next stop is Ōmiya...>

Hadn't she just been in Tokyo? Or was it Beirut?

Beside her, River awoke with a yawn. Through the interlink, the Wielder felt a calm flowing from her doll, loose and warm and free.

"We home yet?" the blade doll mumbled as she shifted to sit up and rub at tired eyes and glance out the window.

"Not yet," the Wielder replied, rolling her shoulders and trying to untense her aching muscles. "Just coming up on Ōmiya. And hey...I think I was just in one of your dreams again."

The doll gasped, then slowly nodded. "I....I had a feeling you were watching. The playground, back in Beirut, in the early oughts. Another version of the kid I was."

"Nda'. Nda.' " <Yup. Yup.> The Witch sat back, reached for her doll's hand, her fingertips entwining with River's.

"Nare, kokesu yo. Kandō shtanossha." <Hey, doll. I'm mighty impressed.>

She turned to find River with her head against the soft corner of the seat and headrest.

"Yeah?"

"How couldn't I be? You're hell-bent on finding your past self and reparenting her. If this is what you're doing with yourself, you're going to be an incredible mother. I can feel it."

River blushed, but nodded slowly, eyes still closed-- even despite a nap, she was still tired. Both of them were.

"Remind me of that when I'm constantly second-guessing myself and complaining about fucking up," she chuckled. "I'm gonna need it."

"I will."

The train pulled into Ōmiya as the last glimmer of sun slipped westward and the sky was a deep, profound purple.

Ahead lay the rise of the Ōu Range, and the mountain passes that would carry them both home.

Hand in hand.

[beomglocks]

what soobin is like as a boyfriend

warnings & other: none i just love him but let’s be honest who doesn’t, this gets cheesy in some parts bc he just gives off stereotypical kdrama bf vibes but guys he’s the one

w/c: round to 1k

ok first off 

sorry if i rant soobin is my baby so ofc i think he’s the perfect boyfriend

he’s so

ugh

ok when you meet him he’s a shy boy

like really won’t wanna look you in the eye

ok like super fucking awkward

like painfully and you’re like “hahah ok that’s cute”

that only applies if you look intimidating tho

if you’re one of those people who’s blessed with not having resting bitch face he’ll be flirty

well you know..

he has his own methods of being flirty

he’s charming in his own way

probably does what yeonjun does but more subtle

stares

will stare at you

and when you make eye contact he smiles and rubs his lip with his finger DJSJSKDK PLZ

alternatively: looks away, purses his lips with a smile, ears get red, looks back up to you already looking at him then he waves

youre left like

“omg he’s so fucking cute”

ok but actually like he will reel you in without you even knowing

next thing you know you’re laughing at his lame ass jokes

god forbid you think he’s funny

“you think I’m funny? well we should date” :)

wait im pretty sure he said he doesnt go after someone unless he knows they like him back

tbh he’d probably wait until you make the first move

or wait until you show interest or else he’ll just hide his feelings

you have to bring him out of his shell

once you do...oh boy

100% never leaving you alone

always telling you how much he loves you

he’s the sweetest

teeth rotting sweet

i feel like he would slowly open up to you during the relationship

he’s not like automatically into it if that makes sense

shy to initiate things at first

such as kissing and touching

asks you if it’s ok first

we love consent

free samples kind of guy

dont take him to an ice cream shop or shops in general

he will devour the free samples

next thing you know you’re leaving with goat cheese and the newest ice cream flavour

he gives hopeless romantic vibes

would want to bake with you in the kitchen

and i know this sounds cliche but

flour fight

he’s cute with it at first

just rubs some flour on your nose then next thing you know

“we turned our dog white”

he’s a simple man

however

he probably spoils you

but not like expensive item type of spoiling he isn’t extravagant

god forbid the price range of any of the items he buys you exceeds his actual paycheck

cute gifts that you’ll actually use and cherish

i dont see many fights happening with him tbh

maybe if you question his leadership choices then i can see a fight happening

for example if you think he couldve handled a situation better in a certain way and you point that out to him he’ll get all defensive

“im the leader of my group dont tell me what you think is best for my group”

then you’re just like “well shit fuck you too i was just tryna help”

i can see him distancing himself after a fight if you’re also feeling a bit aggitated

doesn’t talk to you until it’s literally 2am and neither of you are sleeping bc yall always cuddle and you’re not cuddling him

:(

he’s always the first one to say sorry

my god he makes fun of you so much

not on a beomgyu level though

more of a “if you say something silly i will make you feel so dumb for the rest of the day” kind of clowning

wow jealousy

i feel like he’s not super jealous unless he feels threatened

everything was fine until the fire nation attacked

once he sees you getting a little too buddy buddy with someone else he’s like nah i gotta shut this shit down

he’s humble but once he’s jealous he’s all braggy to make himself seem above who ever was trying to get at you

“yeah i think we ALL-”

boy do you have to comfort this big baby

he’s sensitive :(

hold him and rub his head on his off days

tell him he’s the best boy and it doesnt matter what anyone else thinks screw them

he laughs like 

“shouldnt i be comforting you?” 

soooooooooo sappy

cliche asf boyfriend

buys you flowers

if he could he would be doing the whole radio outside your window thing (side note: yeonjun would too be he’s whipped asf)

college bf (we saw it coming)

see also: college bf who helps you in what he can and tells you to screw math bc you don’t need it anyways

shows up at your school or job after his practice

everyone loves him

everyone

you gotta be on guard 24/7

i wouldnt say you’d be insecure per se but soobin definietly lacks awareness when it comes to being flirted with

he recognizes others advances but laughs awkwardly, forgetting to tell the person he already has a partner

~cue mild argument~

at the end of it all he’s like “dont worry i only like you jeez”

if he’s working on a song he asks for your input

or rather how would you interpret a certain emotion that he isn’t able to convey

just to joke around, if he has to write a song about heartbreak but neither of you have been through that he’ll be like

“well there’s a first for everything :)”

soobin 100% takes the time to learn about your culture

he’s invested what can i say

introducing you to the other members isn’t THAT bad

but they definitely clown soobin

txt: “how come your partner is cooler than our own leader”

“maybe they should lead us instead” (joke)

soobin’s like fuck yall i can be cool :(

always send you cute selfies

with messages along the lines of

“i miss you :((((”

“bring ice cream on your way back!”

“be safe tho xxx”

he gives embarassing dad vibes

you can’t introduce him to your friends !

since he has you around he isn’t too shy and once he engages in conversation you better pack your bags

he’s trying to be funny (keyword: trying) but really it’s just your friends laughing to not make the hot idol bf not feel bad

you help him with his script for music bank

speaking of music bank

yes, yes, you are clowning him like the rest of txt and he comes home like

“not you too :(((((((”

hueningkai

my goodness hueningkai

yall tussle over soobin’s attention

sometimes it feels like youre sharing soobin with kai

you love them both but youre like “kai sweetie it’s cold and i wanna be the one to cuddle my bf so please”

speaking of cuddles 

best cuddles

ones where he’s wearing a really comfortable sweater that’s actually nice material and your face gets buried in his chest 

his limbs will be tangled in yours no doubt

but wow he’s so warm you almost never wanna let go

they don’t call him “home” for nothing

tall boy

makes fun of you if you’re shorter than him

yes he does tease you by placing items on higher-than-you-can-reach shelves

kick his shins he’ll give in

you: ”hows the weather up there”

him: “nice actually but you wouldnt know now would you :)”

tell him your problems, tell him anything

he will listen

and i mean let-you-ramble-for-hours kind of listen

but at the end of it his input is always valuable and he isn’t judgemental

he’s a good listener and gives good advice!!!

he’s not the leader for no reason put some damn trust in him!

[nagito-kissmaeda]

I really don't know if requests are open so I'm sorry if I didn't noticed they're closed 💔 However if they are open could you please write Nagito with female s/o that lost bet to Hiyoko and running around island in maid dress?

ミ☆ Sorry this took me so long! Also it got very nasty and i hope that is okay lol. I can’t help myself when it comes to Nagito. Word count: 2024 Contains: NSFW, fem reader, they/them pronouns, explict sexual content, voyeurism ミ☆ Please send me a DM or an ask if you’d like me to write something for you!

This is humiliating. 

The Jabberwock island sun is burning down hot as always, you can feel the skin of your bare arms already starting to burn and your legs are getting sweaty under the thick thigh high socks. This outfit was not designed for this weather, but clearly Hiyoko Saionji cared very little about that fact.

She is walking beside you, snickering behind a hand. The six inch heels she has forced you into makes her seem even shorter than usual.

You sigh, “How much longer?”

“I told you! One whole lap of the islands!” She taps a finger to her chin, feigning thoughtfulness, “We’re about...halfway done.”

You huff and cross your arms. You don't usually wear heels, your feet are already starting to ache, and the unpaved path on central island makes it even harder for you to walk, “Can I at least take the shoes off?”

Saionji scoffs, “Uh, obviously not. The heels are essential. You think i'm just gonna let you run around in sneakers? What would even be the fucking point?”

“Yeah, yeah, Okay. I get it.” 

To be fair, this was all your fault. After waking up from the Neo World Program, you and the rest of your classmates found that the island was a mess and had spent the past few months slowly making it livable. It must have been rotten luck that got you paired with Saionji to clean out the back room in the diner on the second island. Apparently the waitresses who worked there before the island was abandoned used to wear sexy maid costumes, and there happened to be one in your size. Saionji had said something about a bet, that if you were game enough to walk around in the maid costume, she would take on your cleaning duties for the next three days. It was a bad idea, you really should have said no.

There's a gust of wind and your short skirt flutters around your thighs. You clench your jaw and try your best to keep your panties from showing. Saionji laughs again. 

“Remember when we bumped into Hanamura earlier and he said that he thought you looked-”

“Shut up, Saionji.” You hiss, walking a little faster as you cross the bridge over to the first island, “Withstanding your ridicule was not part of the deal.”

“Yeah, but it wasn't not not part of the deal.” She sticks her tongue out. 

The heels are so loud on the wooden slats of the bridge, and it takes a decent amount of effort to stop yourself from getting stuck in one of the gaps and tripping. You can tell Saionji thinks it is very funny how hard you need to focus on your own feet. 

“Okay.” She says as you step out onto the island, “One loop here, and then back to the second island. You might actually manage it if you dont trip and break a leg on the way back,”

You shoot her a glare, “Was that a threat?”

She shrugs, “Just saying you should watch where you walk” She playfully taps your shin with the side of her foot, you manage not to stumble, but it was still a dirty move. 

Before you are able to call her out for her nasty trick, Saionji laughs again and nods her head in the direction of the cabins. You’ve just made your way in through the front gate, and are about to head down to the restaurant, “Look who was lucky enough to leave his cottage right as were walking past.”

Saionji’s intonation on the word lucky makes your stomach twist and turn. You’re too afraid to follow her line of sight, swallowing nervously and looking down at the ground, “Hey, uh, i think I’m calling it here. You win.”

You move to walk away, buy Saionji grabs you by the wrist, “What are you chickening out for? I didn't realise you were such a loser.”

“Saionji” You warn, glaring down at her, “You better let me go or else i will-”

“Ah, hello!” Komaeda interrupts. You freeze, heart racing at the sound of his voice. This is literally the worst thing that could have possibly happened. Your cheeks are burning “How lucky it is that I get to see the both of...ah…” His voice slowly trails off as he notices what you are wearing. It's with a newfound desperation that you struggle to escape Saionji’s grip, but she holds fast. 

“Hey, Weirdo.” Saionji jeers, her hand still tight around your wrist, “Do you like this cute outfit I found?”

“Oh...I...uh…” 

You let your eyes slip up to his face. Komaeda has his hair up in a ponytail and his cheeks are burning red as he stares down at the length of bare thigh peeking out from the top of your stockings. You can hear the sound of your heart beating in your ears.

You like Komaeda. As in, you really like Komaeda. 

Seeing him getting all flustered is doing strange things to your stomach, but you are still frozen with embarrassment. 

“I think he likes it~” Saionji taunts, smirking up at you. 

His eyes are combing over you, his lower lip pulled in between his teeth. There's warmth between your thighs, your fingernails are digging into your palms. You barely even notice as you start getting bolder, gently brushing the hemline of your skirt with your hand, tugging it a little further up your thigh. Komaeda’s throat bobs. 

“Did...did Saionji make you do this?” He asks.

You nod, still feeling too overwhelmed to actually say anything. He must see the way you are looking at him, the way his blush runs all the way down to his collarbones, the way you want desperately to see more of his skin. His eyes meet yours questioning, but hungry. 

“You look…” he heaves a shaky breath, eyes quickly flitting over to Saionji  like he is trying to remind himself that she is still there, “...good.”

You grip onto the fabric of your skirt to stop your hands from shaking, “Thank you. Um-” you look down at your toes for a moment,  “Hanamura got kind of weird about it, but i'm uh…” you look back up at Komaeda, his eyes are perfect and green, “I’m glad that you like it…”

He’s just staring at you now, and you hope that he understands the meaning of your words. That maybe this whole embarrassing ordeal is worth it if he finds you attractive. You want him so badly, you want him to want you so badly. The way his eyes roam over your body makes you quiver with something. Nerves? Excitement? 

“What the fuck is happening right now?”

You and Komaeda are suddenly pulled from a trance and forced to look back down at Saionji. She’s staring up at you with a mix of horror and confusion.

You feel a bolt of arousal shoot down to your center when Komaeda turns to her and says, “Would you mind leaving us alone, Saionji-san?”

Saionji blinks, “Huh? We’ve still got to walk all the way back to the second island or they lose the bet! I'm not going anywhere in case she cheats!”

“Bet’s off.” You say, pulling your wrist from her grasp and taking a step closer to Komaeda. God, even with the heels on he is still taller than you, “You should really go.”

Saionji barks a laugh, “Fine, but you better not complain when you have cleaning duty all next week.” 

He is very subtle about it, but you feel the cool touch of Komaeda’s fingers on your bare thigh, he stares at Saionji over your shoulder and is much less polite when he says, “Saionji, leave.” 

You don't turn around, but you hear the sound of sandals clattering on wood as she dashes out of the hotel area. The second she is out of view, Komaeda grabs you by the shoulders and pins you up against the wall of the closet cottage (Souda’s? It really doesn't matter) breathing so heavily that you can see his shoulders shaking.

“I’m...I’m so sorry...I” He back pedals, letting his arms fall to the sides, “I don't know what came over me, I'm such garbage i-”

Fuck it, you think. Grabbing the front of his coat and tugging his lips up against yours. It takes him a moment to recognise what is even happening, but the second he does, his large hands grab tight on either side of your waist and he kisses you back in a fervor. You can feel him moan against your lips, and it’s too much for you. So you spin him around until he is the one with his back up against the wall, jamming your knee in between his legs and shoving one hand up under his shirt. His skin is smooth, you can feel his ribs under your fingers. He whimpers under your lips when your tongue enters his mouth, tangling with his, and one of his hands creeps down to the short hemline of your skirt, slipping his fingers up underneath. You hear him choke on a moan when he finds that your stockings are being held up by a garter-belt. 

“You’re killing me.” He hisses against your mouth. 

You lift up the knee between his legs and grind it against his crotch. He makes the cutest little noise, hips wriggling against the pressure of your knee until he is basically fucking himself on it. You moan at the sight of him, cheeks red, hair mussed, writhing against you desperately. 

“That’s a good boy.” You whisper in his ear, pressing a kiss to the side of his throat, “Does that feel nice?”

“Hng-I….I…” he throws his head backward until it collides with the wall, “What about..ahhAH...what about you?”

Watching him like this is getting you wet enough as it is, you smirk and suck gently on his pulse point, “What about me? I want to watch you cum, sweetheart. That’s what i want.”

His green eyes are blown wide when they meet yours, he swallows, “Out….outside?”

“Yeah, baby.” You press your knee up even harder and relish in the choked sound he makes, “Right here.” 

You aren't sure what it is about the maid costume that gives you this confidence, but you feel powerful. Watching Komaeda moan and drool as he grinds furiously against your stocking-clad knee is only making you feel sexier. 

The hand you have under his shirt sneaks upward even further, he squeaks when you rub one of his nipples between your thumb and forefinger, “You think you can cum for me, sweetheart?”

He nods furiously, hips quivering as you continue biting and sucking your way down his throat and over his shoulder. You can feel him growing more desperate, you can feel his pressing his throbbing cock harder and harder against the unyielding pressure of your knee. His mouth is hung open, drool is dripping down his chin and he is flushed all the way down to his chest. You moan just from the mere sight of him, your sex clenching with desire, but that would have to wait. You wanted to watch him come undone.

“I…I’m” he whines, writhing and panting against you, “I’m so close…”

“You’re going to cum?”

Komaeda makes a noise of affirmation, but it mostly just sounds like a moan. You grin and push your knee up even higher, leaning in to lick up the shell of his ear.

“Go on, then.” You whisper, “Cum for me, pretty boy,”

A moan rips through him. So loud that anyone nearby must have heard it. His hips quiver and shake against you, grinding and wriggling and then finally coming to a stop. He looks godlike, his hair fucked five ways to hell and his eyes glazed over with arousal. A shaky giggle escapes his mouth, and then he licks his lips. 

“Okay. Your turn”

You don't resist when he grabs you by the hand and pulls you to his cottage. Maybe Saionji actually helped you out for once, even if she didn't mean it. 

[cloudywriter]

camp staghorn - 4

it’s finally here - been a second ik. updates may be a tad slow these coming two weeks because so much stuff is about to be going on but hang tight. i might extend the story and just have the parts be a little shorter so it’s more manageable because right now it’s suppose to be around 9 parts. anyway, enjoy!

masterlist, AO3, main masterlist 

~~~

Hours later the memory of Rowan’s face as he wrapped the towel around her was still drifting around Aelin’s mind like a feather in the wind. 

He looked so unguarded, his features soft and his perpetual frown absent. Aelin wished she could have paused time right there. She wished she could’ve taken a moment to study him. It made her want to pick up a pencil and sketch him though the most she could draw would be a lopsided stick figure. If she were an artist she would’ve made him her muse. 

Her campers, however, demanded revenge, an eye for an eye. As far as they were concerned, Rowan had made a direct attack on Aelin. A punishable offense. They’d been eagerly chattering all afternoon, developing plan after plan of intricate ways to right Rowan’s wrong. Aelin, though, was a little preoccupied. 

She desperately needed to snap out of it, she needed to splash some cold water on her face and come back to reality. Rowan had trespassed into their camp site and outwardly tampered with their plumbing, she couldn’t let it go now. 

No, Aelin Galathynius wasn’t really the kind of girl who let things go. It didn’t matter how attractive the perpetrator was. 

Aelin and her girls now found themselves roaming aimlessly through the main camp. Technically it was their rest time when they were supposed to cool down and get out of the sun for a while. They were on a different mission though, they needed to scope out Rowan’s camp. 

Luckily, it wasn’t long before they were found. His boys were loud and rambunctious their voices led Aelin’s group right to them like a bread trail in the woods. They were on the rock wall, taking turns racing each other up while the others cheered from below. 

Each boy was suited up in harnesses and helmets. Aelin might’ve spent a little too long checking out Rowan. He was at the bottom of the wall with a rope attached to his harness, acting as one of the counselors managing the boys as they climbed up and then propelled down. 

Aelin deduced it was the perfect time to strike, they were distracted and unsuspecting. He likely didn’t intend for her to have a new plan up her sleeve so soon. 

Aelin and her girls kept their distance, crouched behind a line of tall pine trees that acted as the perfect cover. 

“Well, ladies, what’s the plan?” Aelin inquired. 

The girls gave each other a few affirming nods, silently agreeing upon a plan. 

“We think we should put a butt load of salt into their water jugs back at camp,” Ansel finally spoke up. 

“You think?”

“Yeah, they’ll have to be thirsty now and drink all their water. Then they’ll have to fill them up when they get to camp,” Borte declared. 

Aelin decided to let her girls take the lead on this one and agreed. “Well, let’s go grab all the salt shakers from the dining hall.”

The girls nodded their heads in excitement, racing back down the path. Aelin followed behind, making sure none of their commotion drew unwanted attention. 

After conjuring up at least 14 salt shakers and even an extra container of salt they found in a cabinet they trekked to cabin 1E as denoted on the map in the front of the dining hall. 

That map has turned out to be quite convenient indeed. 

They went to work quickly, splitting up and unscrewing the lids of the three multi-gallon water dispensers around the boys’ camp. Their hour of rest was quickly coming to a close and they needed to execute their plan quickly. 

Aelin and the girls dumped generous amounts of salt into each jug. Ansel even made rounds stirring each one with a stick.

“Where did you get that stick?” Aelin asked.

“The ground,” Ansel replied simply, continuing to stir in the white granules. 

“And you're stirring their water with it?” Aelin clarified. 

“They’ll survive,” Ansel said earnestly as she removed the stick from one water jug and started on another. Aelin only shrugged, she probably wasn’t wrong. 

The girls heard laughter from afar and perked up. 

“Put the lids back on!” Aelin commanded quietly. The girls scrambled to cover the water again and camouflage themselves in the forest. 

Aelin tightened the lid on the remaining jug and raced to join her girls concealed behind the trees and undergrowth. 

The laughing got louder as the group got closer and closer, making their way up the rough dirt path. When they came into view Aelin could tell with their sweaty, flushed faces that they were definitely in need of water. 

Much to Aelin’s luck as soon as Rowan came over the slight incline he started filling his empty water bottle with the dispenser situated just outside his camp’s cabin. The other boys also lined up at the various water stations, taking turns. 

“Rowan,” one of the boys spoke up. “This water tastes funny.” 

“Camp water always tastes funny,” another boy replied. “I’m sure it’s okay,” Rowan insisted. He squirted some water over his face in an attempt to cool off after being in the hot sun for hours. His cheeks were red, heated by the sun, it made his green eyes impossibly greener to the point they resembled the bright green of the surrounding foliage. He ran a hand down his face and through his hair. 

Immediately, as soon as the water hit the boys’ tongues, they started spitting it out, Rowan included. A few yucks and why is it so salty could be heard, but the best part was definitely the boys’ faces. Even Rowan’s was morphed into an expression of pure repulse. 

Aelin’s girls struggled to contain their giggles, clamping their hands over their mouths in a futile attempt to stifle them. Rowan seemed to be the only boy to clue into the muffled noises coming from the forest that definitely weren’t the chatter of songbirds. Aelin could tell his eyes were searching the surrounding greenery, on the lookout for anything amiss. 

“Alright, I’ll go get us some fresh water, okay guys?” Rowan decided.

The boys nodded their agreement, a few still wiping at their mouths. Rowan turned around, starting down the path back to the main camp once again. A few of the girls around Aelin gave each other silent high fives, celebrating their successful prank. One more point for Aelin. 

Aelin was about to suggest that they move out and get ready to feign innocence back at lunch when a pair of thick arms wrapped around her waist and hoisted her up. 

“Thought you were sneaky, huh?” Rowan spoke directly into Aelin’s ear, his breath ruffling the golden blonde hair that had escaped from her ponytail. 

Rowan spun her around and exclaimed to his boys, “I’ve caught the offender!” 

Her campers were playing along, pulling at Rowan’s shirt, trying to save their counselor. Even Aelin was laughing as she was trying to wiggle out of Rowan’s strong embrace but he kept her back pressed firmly to his chest.

“What should we do with her boys?” Rowan asked.

“Make her walk the plank!” A boy with curly brown hair shouted, punching his fist in the air. 

“Alright,” Rowan conceded and began dramatically leading Aelin towards the dock down by the lake. 

“No! Rowan, no, please!” Aelin began struggling but she couldn’t keep the smile off of her face. 

“What else do you suggest, princess? I can’t just let you go free after committing such a crime.”

Aelin shifted just enough so she could face Rowan better, “I’ll do anything,” she breathed in such a way that she knew it would catch Rowan off guard. Just as she predicted, Rowan’s arms loosened for a second. Men were just too easy. 

Aelin took the moment of reprieve gratefully and tore out of Rowan’s grasp, dashing back into the forest for cover. Rowan chased her, twigs snapping close behind. She bolted, swatting low hanging branches out of her way and gritting her teeth as thorns tore at her shins but she couldn’t afford to be caught again. She could hear Rowan following but losing ground as the forest grew denser. 

Aelin took the moment of reprieve gratefully and tore out of Rowan’s grasp, dashing back into the forest for cover. She knew Rowan was chasing after her by the sound of twigs snapping close behind. She increased her speed, swatting at low hanging branches and gritting her teeth as thorns tore at her shins, but she couldn’t afford to be caught again. Rowan began to lose ground as the forest grew denser while Aelin was able to maneuver through from years of experience playing hide and seek in the woods with Aedion. 

The forest suddenly opened up into a small meadow, long grass and bright wildflowers swayed back and forth with the breeze. Aelin looked back to determine Rowan’s position for only a moment when he was on her, pulling her down into the delicate green grass that spread across the field like a blanket. 

They were both panting and could still hear the shouting of their campers through the trees. Aelin and Rowan were both on their backs, gulping down air. 

“You know I’ll have to get you back for that now.” 

Aelin pinched his side, “I know.”

Rowan only swatted her hand away before pushing himself back up to his feet. He held a hand out for Aelin, an offer. Aelin decided to take it, allowing him to effortlessly pull her to her own feet. He held onto her hand for a beat longer than necessary before letting it return back to her side. 

Rowan was studying Aelin, making her suddenly feel self-conscious. Was there grass in her hair? 

“What are you staring at?” Aelin finally caved. 

Rowan smirked. “Nothing, just thinking about how I should repay you for that salt water fiasco.”

“Do your worst, Whitethorn.” 

“I intend to, Galathynius.”

~~~ 

hope y’all like it so far & you’ll get some more rowan’s part of the story & his revenge in the next part. very fun. xoxo. let me know if you wanna be added to my rowaelin taglist!

taglist: @live-the-fangirl-life // @rowaelinismyotp // @gosuckadickghostman // @camilamartinezdunne​ //

[artificialqueens]

Me and You Together, 3/10 (Taywhora) - Ortega

fic summary: The cardinal rule of having flatmates is that you Do Not Catch Feelings For Your Flatmates, because everything inevitably goes to shit and gets made horrifically awkward. A’whora and Tayce both know this, but being in first year of uni and making good decisions have never really gone hand in hand.

a/n: again, fucking bowled over by the love and support this has had so far. i cannot thank any of u enough, ur all absolute wee diamonds in the sky. hope u enjoy this one- we’re in January for this one, where the girls have to deal with the consequences of December…and Tayce is tasked with keeping a secret for Lawrence.

last chapter: September- On a damp, bright Saturday in September, six flatmates move into their student flat and meet for the first time.

this chapter: January- Tayce and A’whora still have unfinished business from a night out and a hungover morning in December. But it’s only awkward if they make it awkward…right?

***

Tayce is pretty sure she’s going to combust if something doesn’t happen soon.

It’s been a month and a week since A’whora kissed her, and twenty-four hours shorter than that since Tayce kissed her in return. Or thereabouts, it’s not like she’s counting. It’s not like it’s been consuming her every thought every waking moment of the day or anything.

In all fairness, Tayce seems like it’s an achievement to think about a kiss for that length of time. Especially through her first semester essay deadlines, Ellie’s raucous eighteenth, her first Christmas back home, her first New Year seeing all her old school friends after uni and updating Cheryl and Cara on everything. She’d drunkenly come out to Cheryl too after being gently encouraged and supported by Cara, and they’d both cried as Cheryl held her and confessed that since uni had started she’d also begun seeing a girl she really liked too.

It’s funny how at uni everybody seems so much more free. Away from a stifling hometown, Tayce and her friends can properly spread their wings and be who they’ve always been but have either not realised it or been afraid to show it. Tayce is the happiest she’s ever been when she’s at the flat with the others in her little bubble of a home away from home, with Bimini’s intelligent insights and Tia’s funny quips, Lawrence’s chaos and Ellie’s kindness and A’whora being…well, her best friend.

Except she’s not really sure that best friends kiss each other like that.

But maybe they do, because since they’ve all come back from home after Christmas A’whora hasn’t mentioned the kisses, as if nothing out of the ordinary has happened between them. Hasn’t even joked about it with her or in front of the others (which is fair enough, as if Lawrence knew she’d probably tease them about it until they graduated). Tayce is pretty sure that none of the others even know, or at least if they do they’ve not spoken about it.

And the worst part is that A’whora has been absolutely…normal. Fine.

See, Tayce could’ve dealt with any awkwardness- she’d be upfront, bluntly ask A’whora if she wants to forget about it or what she wants the plan for them to be. Even better would’ve been if A’whora had rugby-tackled her the moment she’d got back from Wales and smothered her with kisses, told her how much she’d been thinking about her while they’d both been away. Tayce supposes it’s kind of her fault they never properly talked about it since she’d practically bolted out of A’whora’s room when she’d kissed her that morning, but she’d been nervous in case she’d made everything too weird. A’whora hadn’t seemed to be complaining at the time, though.

In fact that night, A’whora had been up for plenty more than just a drunk kiss. If Tayce thinks about everything she’d said when they were walking home her face still gets hot and she has to squeeze her thighs together. She’s definitely glad they never crossed any of those particular lines when they’d both been drinking, but sometimes when she’s lying in bed at night Tayce lets her hands drift between her legs as she thinks about A’whora telling her how much and for how long she’d wanted her.

Best friends definitely don’t do that.

So Tayce feels guilty spending time with just A’whora these days, the fact that things haven’t been awkward between them somehow being worse than if they were. She’s not been avoiding her per sé, she’s just been finding ways to make sure it’s very rarely the two of them alone together: hanging out in the kitchen with everyone instead of in her room, going to bed when the others do instead of staying up with A’whora, inviting the others to anything A’whora suggests the two of them do together. It’s silly, and Tayce does miss spending time alone with her, but A’whora acting like nothing’s happened while conversely Tayce wants everything to happen hurts her embarrassingly more than she’d care to admit.

Such a time is a lazy Sunday afternoon halfway through the shittiest month of the year, when the weather outside is full of misty rain that’s a recipe for frizzy hair, puddles, and misery. Just to add to the rubbish day Tayce is holed up in her room, watching the grey clouds drift and overlap over each other to create a paint colour chart in the sky as she begins an essay that’s due in a mere five days. It’s been hard to focus on anything when her head is full of her best friend and imaginary scenarios but the prospect of an all-nighter isn’t one that’s particularly desirable either, so she and the ninety-five words she’s written so far are engaged in a stand-off as Tayce waits for the essay to write itself and the word document waits for her brain cells to conjure up any more opinions on “Is art a conveyor of emotion?” (4000 words).  

And then there’s a knock on the door that doesn’t wait for permission to enter and A’whora bounces in. She’s in a pair of grey joggers and a baggy navy pyjama top that she’s tucked in at the waist and rolled up the sleeves of, and her hair is up in a bun that’s had approximately 5% effort put into it apart from the little diamante hair clasp she’s slid through it at the top.

In spite of herself, Tayce can’t help but snort when she sees her. “Only you could make your shitty potato loungewear fashion.”

“Shut up! This is haute couture. This is actually my final project for the semester,” A’whora jokes in return, moves to sit at the foot of her bed and pout at her. “Tayyyce. I’m boreddd.”

Tayce raises an eyebrow at A’whora’s whining from over her laptop screen. “And I’m doing this essay. Find someone else to bug.”

“Don’t be such a hound,” A’whora frowns, falling sideways and landing onto the bed so she’s hugging Tayce’s legs through the duvet, her head resting on her shins. “I’d annoy Ellie but she’s in town with one of her friends from home. C’mon, let’s do a movie day. We’ve not had one in ages. I feel like we’ve barely had any time together since you got back.”

“Just been trying to catch up on all my coursework. It’s not personal,” she lies, her heart sinking only the tiniest bit at the realisation that her attempts at staying out of A’whora’s way have obviously been louder than they’ve been subtle.

“Please?” A’whora bats her lashes, and if it was impossible to say no to her before it’s surely illegal to do so now.

Tayce sighs and closes her laptop, eliciting a smile from the other girl. “Fine. Fine! But you better ask the others, I don’t want them feeling left out.”

It’s a good spur-of-the-moment excuse to make sure Tayce doesn’t have to spend two hours cuddled up next to A’whora while her heart hurts, but she’s confused by the way a small look of something passes over A’whora’s expression. She can’t put her finger on what it is, but A’whora’s agreeing and bounding down to the living room before Tayce can figure it out.

Tayce throws on her dressing gown over her clothes before leaving her room to join her, the blue fluffy one with the narwhal hood that’s complete with a horn on the top. She doesn’t own many embarrassing items of clothing, but this is definitely one of them. It doesn’t matter too much, though. A’whora’s seen her in it before, when she’s been hungover or sad or hangry and on her period.

It’s so funny how she can only have known her five months and still feel closer to her than half of the friends she spent six years with at high school.

In the kitchen, A’whora’s already cheerfully getting organised as Bimini and Lawrence lounge on the sofa lazily. Tia’s not in either- it emerges she’s gone round to Veronica’s, which nobody’s surprised about.

“Main question is, what’re we watching?” Bimini asks. “It’s a lazy Sunday so it can’t be anything that’s too good. I want something I can rip the piss out of while I watch it, y’know?”

There’s some squabbling about film choices as A’whora makes popcorn in the microwave, burns it, then subsequently has to make another packet. It’s eventually decided that they’re going to watch Love Actually despite the fact it’s January, because they all either hate it or like it because of how bad it is and the film will simply be a vehicle for them to yell jokes over.

“Have we got anything to drink? We could make this into like…a day drinking situation,” Lawrence suggests casually.

“You’re not helping the stereotype that all Scottish people are alcoholics at all,” A’whora quips, causing Tayce to let out a too-loud laugh.

“Listen, if you’ve not figured out that I’m a walking talking stereotype by now, A’whora, are we even friends?” Lawrence shoots back, and A’whora shrugs in an unspoken fair enough.

Tayce tilts her head then remembers something. “I actually still have loads of canned cocktails in my suitcase that my Mum got me for Christmas. Haven’t unpacked them yet. Think there’s about…twelve?”

“Ooh, three each? That’s alright!” Bimini smiles, clearly buoyed by the prospect of being slightly tipsy in the middle of the afternoon.

“Right, that’s settled then. I’ll go get them,” Tayce decides. A’whora’s crossing the kitchen before she knows it.

“I’ll help you with them.”

Before Tayce can speak, Bimini gives a snort. “ ‘Ow much do you think canned cocktails weigh, exactly?”

As Lawrence bursts into peals of laughter, Tayce watches as A’whora rolls her eyes at them, then turns on her heel to follow her to her room. Tayce can’t help but be a little wary, though. It does kind of seem like A’whora’s trying to get her on her own, which Tayce wouldn’t mind if she knew where she was coming from. But she doesn’t.

Tayce kneels down onto the floor as she rolls her suitcase out from under the bed, chatting mindlessly as she does so because if she’s talking it means A’whora doesn’t have a chance to bring up whatever she clearly wants to bring up. “I think there’s actually eleven here, you know. Because, uh…I think I drank one of them while I was at home, so we’re gonna need to fight over who gets one less. I don’t fancy my chances in a fight against Lawrence, she’d probably give me…what’s that expression? A Glasgow kiss? She’d give me one of those. Although Bimini, what do you think they’d be like in a fight? You know I think they’ve secretly got a set of knuckledusters, they seem the type. Although when I think about it-”

“Tayce,” A’whora cuts in, forcing her to snap her head up. Her expression is troubled, and a little frown dips on her forehead as she looks at her. “What’s wrong? Why are you being so…I don’t know, weird? Like you want to get rid of me?”

Tayce feels ashamed for being called out on her behaviour, and she can feel her stomach drop as she looks back at the cans in her otherwise empty suitcase. She wants to tell her there’s a reason for the way she’s been acting but A’whora beats her to the punch, murmuring with her head down and not meeting Tayce’s eyes.

“Is this because we kissed?”

“A’whora…” Tayce immediately groans in exasperation, the heat rushing to her cheeks as if she’s been slapped. She’s embarrassed, because she knows she’s got the capacity to talk about this like a grown-up but there’s a part of her that’s cringing, because if A’whora’s about to tell her she regrets it then she’s not sure she’ll ever live it down.

There’s a small silence where neither of them seem to move, let alone speak. A’whora is yet again the one to break it. “I just feel like you hate me all of a sudden.”

Fuck. If there was one thing Tayce had wanted to avoid, it’s this. Even though she herself is hurting she can’t bear the thought of having hurt A’whora’s feelings too, so she frowns, reaches up and squeezes A’whora’s hand which prompts her to look at Tayce. “I don’t hate you, Rory, of course I don’t hate you. I just…”

Tayce looks up to the ceiling as she searches for the right words, even though she’s not really sure what they are. She wants to tell A’whora she’s yearning for something to happen again between them and that even the fact she’s holding her hand is setting her pulse off all too quickly, but now’s not the right time. Besides, she doesn’t even know if A’whora feels the same way. Either way, Tayce can hear A’whora holding her breath, can feel the way her body’s tense beside her, so Tayce finally formulates something that doesn’t sound too hot or too cold.

“…I just don’t know where we go from here, that’s all.”

A’whora visibly relaxes, then shrugs. Her voice is quiet as she speaks. “Well, it’s only awkward if we make it awkward. And I feel like I’ve been okay at not making it awkward?”

Tayce narrows her eyes at her, laughs. “So what you’re saying is it’s all my fault.”

“Yes.”

The pair of the giggle softly and things already seem to have shifted back into comfortable territory. The green of a spring bulb popping up through the snow.

Tayce swallows her not-inconsiderable pride and smiles up at A’whora. She supposes going back to being friends and not ever talking about the fact that they kissed again is better than existing in a tense purgatory for the rest of their time in the flat together, even if it does make her feel a little sinking feeling of disappointment and a sense of mourning what could’ve been. “I’m sorry for being such a…mingebag.”

A’whora cracks up, repeats “mingebag!” incredulously, before her laughter dies down and she gives Tayce’s hand a squeeze in return. “That’s okay. Just good to know you still like me.”

They share a soft smile before piling the cocktails high in their arms, cradling them as if they’re babies as they rush back through to the living room where Bimini and Lawrence are hanging up a huge white sheet on the wall opposite the sofa for the projector. The projector had been Tia’s addition to the flat, an AliExpress purchase that had turned out to not be broken, or unusable, or made for a doll’s house.

“Tia won’t mind us borrowing that, will she?” A’whora asks with concern. Lawrence scoffs, bats a hand in her direction dismissively.

“She’ll be too mouth-deep in Veronica to care when she realises we’ve used it, let’s not lie!”

There’s a cry of disgust at Lawrence’s turn of phrase from the others, and as Tayce sets up the cocktails on the little coffee table A’whora brings the bowl of popcorn through.

“It’s fun to be able to make jokes about Tia and her girl, in’t it?” Bimini chuckles good-naturedly. “Always feel like we can’t properly tease her when Ellie’s there ‘cause she always looks like she’s about to jump out the window any time we mention Veronica’s name.”

The revelation that Ellie has feelings for Tia had come via a drunken, tearful confession to the others the night of her eighteenth birthday, when Tia had left the party with Veronica instead of staying overnight at the flat. Poor Ellie had been so devastatingly upset that the others had seemed to forge an unspoken agreement that the situation wasn’t going to be fodder for flat jokes. Instead they make sure to ask Tia how her budding relationship is going when Ellie isn’t around.

As she and A’whora laugh in agreement at Bimini’s joke, Tayce doesn’t miss the way Lawrence grows uncharacteristically quiet.

“When d’you think Ellie will get over Tia? I mean it’s a shame she doesn’t like her back, but she’ll ‘ave to at some point.”

“She won’t. She’ll just pine after her every day until we graduate,” Lawrence says. It’s meant to be a joke but her delivery is somewhat flat, and Tayce wonders if she’s the only one that picks up on it. From the way A’whora and Bimini are laughing, it appears she has been.  

Bimini and Lawrence step back from the sheet, satisfied with the job they’ve done. A’whora’s busy plugging in the fairy lights Ellie strung up where the wall meets the ceiling a few months ago, and Tayce can’t help but think to herself that sacking off her essay was a good idea as she glances at their setup. Never let it be said that their flat does things by halves.

“Oh! We should bring duvets through. And blankets,” A’whora suggests, and Tayce’s heart is both warmed and hurt by how adorably enthusiastic she is about the whole endeavour. She wishes she could shake the lingering feeling of disappointment she’s got in her gut at the knowledge that they’ll probably never talk about their kiss again; they’ve moved on from it, it was a one-time thing, and it’s only awkward if they make it awkward so Tayce bringing it up would be awkward, right?

So she settles on the sofa with Lawrence while Bimini helps A’whora gather up all their pillows, cushions, blankets and duvets from their respective rooms. Tayce is about to become lost in her own head when Lawrence turns to her with a look in her eyes that Tayce has never seen before. It’s almost conspiratorial and definitely suspicious, and for one horrific moment Tayce is convinced that Lawrence knows everything that happened in December.

“What is it?” Tayce asks her, before her flatmate can even open her mouth. Lawrence sighs, tips her head back to the head of the sofa and squeezes her eyes shut.

“I need to tell you a secret.”

Tayce’s heart drops as if she’s on a rollercoaster. Her mind immediately jumps to A’whora. What’s she told her? What does Lawrence know? It would make sense to wait until A’whora was out of the room before telling her anything. Tayce tries to keep her face impassive as she turns to Lawrence, nods quietly. “Okay, spill.”

“You can’t tell anyone, Tayce,” Lawrence insists, looking at her pleadingly. Tayce promises she won’t, although in retrospect she probably should’ve asked what it was first. The way Lawrence is acting is intriguing, though. It makes Tayce think it’s something about herself if it’s something she doesn’t want the others to know so badly.

“Christ, this is so cringe,” Lawrence groans, dropping her head forward and resting it in her hands. Tayce can still see the pink flush that’s started to dust her face, and by now she’s convinced that this has nothing to do with A’whora and everything to do with Lawrence herself.

Lawrence mutters out something incoherent into her hands. Tayce frowns, humoured. “What?”

A huge huff comes from the girl on the sofa beside her, and as she removes her hands from the front of her face she sticks them to the side of it like blinkers on a horse. It’s the quietest Tayce has ever heard Lawrence speak as she says the secret again. “I’ve got a crush on Ellie.”

Tayce’s face lights up at her friend’s confession. “Do you actually?”

“Christ, don’t make me say it twice. I’ll get struck down.”

Tayce leans into Lawrence, uses both her hands to lightly poke her in the arm. “Look at you! Being cute and having feelings!”

“It’s not, though! It’s not cute at all! It’s just sad!” Lawrence rolls her eyes, shaking her head at the same time. “Because she doesn’t…she’ll never see me like that, and she’s too busy making cow-eyes at Tia all the time anyway, so. It’s pointless, I don’t even know why I’m even hoping for something to happen.”

“Hey, listen! How long do you think Ellie’s gonna be able to keep moaning about Tia when she’s still seeing Veronica? I mean there’s only one way that relationship is going, the only ‘end’ there is in ‘girlfriend’. So Ellie’s gonna have to get over it eventually!” Tayce says supportively, shaking Lawrence’s arm to gee her up. Lawrence bats her away, though, giving another sigh.

“Tayce, it’s not exactly like she’s gonnae suddenly realise that I’ve been here all along! Like some fuckin’ chick flick. I’ve fancied her for years,” Lawrence explains. The information knocks Tayce for six, but when she thinks about it it makes sense- the way Lawrence gently bullies her so much, the way she gravitates towards her all the time, the way she gets quiet if Ellie starts moping about Tia. Tayce had never thought about it in that light before.

Lawrence hugs her knees to her chest as she continues. “Realised I liked her the last time we were at the caravan. And obviously we were at opposite sides of the country but like…I’d still meet up with her in Summer, get the train to Dundee and have sleepovers and all that shite. And when she came into the kitchen on that first day I was so happy she was gonnae be living with us, and I am still happy, because obviously she’s my friend? But like…it’s just shite to know that she’ll never like me back.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Ellie’s type is obviously tall, dark and skinny. Which…” Lawrence gestures at herself with a deprecative laugh. “…how can I be any of that?”

“Right, for a start! Stop thinking about what you’re not and start thinking about what you are,” Tayce says firmly, gripping her hand tightly.

Lawrence rolls her eyes and fixes her with a pointed stare. “Oh, like what? I’m beautiful on the inside! I know I’m the fat funny friend, Tayce, you can spare me the bullshit.”

“Well…you’re fat, and so fucking what of it? Doesn’t mean you aren’t drop-dead-fuckin’ gorgeous. Being fat and being beautiful aren’t mutually exclusive.”

“Very easy for you to say, sat there wearing size eights. Tell that to literally any piece of media we consume. Or any of my brain cells. Even if there are only about ten of them,” Lawrence sighs, then pauses. “I do like the way I look, and I don’t want to change anything about myself. It’s just…several things make that very hard almost all of the time, and it’s tiring to feel like you’re constantly fighting a losing battle. And it’s not like I’m pinning all my self-worth on a girl liking me back, but just…it would be nice to be the one that someone has a crush on for a change, if that makes sense?”

Before Tayce can say anything to affirm how Lawrence is feeling, a movement from down the hall makes her flinch and point at Tayce accusingly. “Not a fucking word, right? Least of all to A’whora, if she knows then I might as well just tell Ellie myself and like fuck is that happening.”

Tayce nods rapidly in a promise as A’whora and Bimini emerge from the hall comedically draped in materials, like a child’s attempt at a dress made out of knitting and featherdown quilts. They all set about arranging everything to make their setup as comfy as possible, and as the film gets loaded up they get comfortable in their respective positions. Lawrence is at one end of the sofa, with Tayce in the middle and A’whora at her side, while Bimini sits on the floor with their back to the sofa because they’re quite happy sitting there with enough cushions and pillows. The big lights are turned off, the film begins, and the room is filled with the soft glow of the fairy lights and the hazy light from the movie and all Tayce can think about is A’whora, warm and soft and squashed up beside her sharing the blanket.  

Tayce feels silly for being so disappointed. This was what she’d wanted- they’d talked about it. They’d addressed the fact that the kiss had happened, and now they were just…moving forward. Not making things awkward. Because obviously to A’whora, the fact it’s happened has made things awkward.

And that shouldn’t hurt Tayce as much as it does.

It’s hard to dwell on things for long, though, when she has block four flat ten’s very own Ant and Dec in her living room. Lawrence and Bimini keep her and A’whora giggling pretty much from the film’s first scene, and they all fall about screech-laughing when Bimini forces them to pause it on a shot of Liam Neeson’s hall in which there’s a horrific blob of a child’s painting on the wall that looks so cursed they just had to point it out.

It’s probably because Lawrence and Bimini are distracting her that Tayce doesn’t initially notice A’whora leaning into her at first until she’s pressed up against Tayce’s side. This isn’t anything out of the ordinary. They’ve always sat close before, but this time things feel different. This time it feels as if there’s little sparks of electricity between them, metaphorical manifestations of the anticipation Tayce feels of something she’s yearning to happen.    

So when A’whora bumps her knuckles against Tayce’s, brings her hand over hers and laces their fingers together, Tayce feels as if she’s suddenly evolved into some ridiculous cartoon character; she can practically feel her eyes bulge out of their sockets in shock and she has to stop her jaw from dropping onto the floor. If her heart could comedically fly out of its chest it would. Tayce keeps her gaze steady and focused on the film, blocking out her peripheral vision and not even turning to see if A’whora’s looking at her too. Because if she is it would make everything ten times worse (better?) than it currently is, and Tayce’s head is already in a spin. They’ve held hands before. It’s not like this is different.

But it is. Before they hadn’t kissed. Before A’whora hadn’t told Tayce she wanted to sleep with her. Before all of Tayce’s feelings for her friend were cooped up into neat little boxes in her mind that were so full they were close to bursting, but now they have and now it’s After and so holding A’whora’s hand has gone from usual to extraordinary, routine to electric.  

Tayce hopes A’whora can’t feel the way her pulse is racing because that’ll definitely let her know something is up.

She’s suddenly startled out of her overthinking by a tut of disapproval from Lawrence. “How many fuckin’ couples are in this film and there’s not one single lesbian?”  

“Lesbians didn’t exist in 2003, remember?” Bimini deadpans, causing A’whora to giggle.

“Yeah, lesbians were invented in 2013 when Orange is the New Black aired.”

“Nah! When did Sugar Rush come out? Mind that programme on Channel 4? I remember watching that through a crack in the living room door when my parents thought I’d gone to bed,” Lawrence recounds excitedly, her enthusiasm at remembering her lesbian awakening making Tayce laugh and relate at the same time.

“For me it was Sophie and Sian. Remember on Coronation Street? They were my first lesbians.”

“At least you all got representation at some stage. If I wanted to see another pan I’d have to watch fuckin’…Kitchen Nightmares,” Bimini rolls their eyes, their joke making the girls howl with laughter and let out cries of consolation.

And then A’whora squeezes Tayce’s hand under the blanket.

Tayce thinks only for a second before squeezing it back, and subsequently doesn’t think before turning and looking at her friend beside her. A’whora shoots her a little smile that if Tayce didn’t know better she’d say was innocent, but the twinkle in her eye and the way she shuffles herself to lean closer against her and tuck her other hand into the crook of Tayce’s elbow makes her heart give a judder like she’s been crashed into from behind.

She supposes it’s only awkward if she makes things awkward, just like A’whora said. So when Tayce gently strokes A’whora’s hand with her thumb, it’s only to illustrate to A’whora that things aren’t weird between them. It’s not to see how the other girl is going to react to that at all. It’s not because being affectionate with A’whora just feels correct and perfect, the easiest thing in the world.

Tayce is holding her breath waiting for A’whora to do something else. Something to raise her hopes, something to show her that maybe she does want something to happen between them again. She wants the film to go on forever and give them infinite time in this no-man’s-land of comfortable tension, because when it ends she knows A’whora will probably just get up from under the blanket and slip away as if everything is back to normal.

When A’whora lets go of her hand, Tayce feels her hopes drop into the pit of her stomach, a rollercoaster coming to a dead stop. The ride is over.

But a second later she wraps her arm around Tayce’s waist, squeezes her close in a hug, and the ride begins all over again. Tayce’s heart rate spikes as she shifts a little, getting comfortable before bringing her arm around A’whora’s middle too and holding her right back.

It’s then that Lawrence’s voice makes Tayce snap her head away from the film, her glazed-over eyes having to focus on her friend who’s regarding her with a raised eyebrow. “Fuck’s going on under that blanket? You two fingering each other?”  

Bimini snaps their head up and yells as Tayce tries to conceal the wave of panic that hits her, rolls her eyes and shakes her head and tells Lawrence that she needs to get her mind out the gutter. She’s sure that being called out will make A’whora flinch away, a woodland animal startled by a twig breaking, but she just giggles and buries her face into Tayce’s side all bashful.

God, Tayce wants to kiss her so much.

The film reaches the scene where Emma Thompson cries in her bedroom to Joni Mitchell, and the sniffing from the floor indicates she’s not the only one.

“Bimini! You said you hated this film!” Tayce laughs, nudging her friend with her foot.

“Yeah, but anyone who doesn’t cry at this scene is a hard-hearted bastard,” they reply, voice thick with emotion.

“Aww, BonBon. It’s okay, I’ve got a little tear as well,” A’whora murmurs from Tayce’s side. She huffs a sigh. “I can’t even believe anyone would fall for that pencil-skirt-wearing cow. I mean, she fucking manspreads and that’s supposed to be some sort of sexy come-on?”

“Aw, and like you could do any better?! We’ve all seen you trying to flirt, it’s embarrassing!” Lawrence cries in outrage.

Tayce is reminded of nights out earlier in the year when A’whora would talk to girls at bars and Tayce would always feel this inexplicable burn in her chest in response. She remembers the unfounded relief when A’whora would come back home to the flat with the rest of them, one-night-stand missions failed, and the churn in her stomach the times when she’d leave with a girl she didn’t know and sneak back into the flat at nine in the morning, ready to tell the others about her exploits from the night before which Tayce never wanted to hear.

She’s really fancied A’whora for a long time, now she thinks about it.

“I could so do better!” A’whora complains, and Tayce isn’t looking at her but she just knows she’s pouting.

Lawrence chuckles, tilting her head in amusement. “Go on then! What would your plan of action be, Miss fuckin’ Womaniser?”

There’s a pause before A’whora says, “Well I’d probably wait until we were both drunk on a night out, do tequila shots with them, drape myself over them, kiss them, then get them to take me back home.”

Tayce thinks she deserves an Oscar for the way she refuses to outwardly react to the way A’whora has essentially just described their kiss from that night out. Inside, however, it’s a different story. She’s not sure it’s possible for her heart to go any faster, and every cell of her body seems to buzz. She can barely hear Lawrence and Bimini laughing in response to A’whora’s comment for the way her blood’s roaring in her ears. Once the others stop paying attention and go back to watching the film, it’s only then that Tayce turns her head, raises one unimpressed eyebrow at A’whora who’s looking up at her with a scheming smirk on her face and a glint in her eye.

And right as she’s looking at her, A’whora closes her eyes and plants a kiss against Tayce’s arm then goes back to watching the movie as if nothing ever happened.

It’s at that point that Tayce feels her mouth dry up, feels something coil tight inside her and a throb between her legs. Something is going to happen the moment the pair of them are alone, she can feel it. There’s no way it can’t. In stark contrast to earlier, Tayce now wills the film to end sooner rather than later.

And it does. Finally. The credits roll, the Beach Boys are playing, and Lawrence slaps her thighs. “Well, that was a heap of shite!”

“I’ve still not forgiven Alan Rickman. God love the dead old bastard,” Bimini shrugs, heaves themself up off the floor and slides their phone out of their back pocket, scrolling busily. “Oh, Ellie’s asking if we wanna come join her an’ Anne for drinks. Apparently they’re in some boujie cocktail bar in town spending all their student loan and need responsible adults to stop them.”

“Why the hell are they asking us then?” Tayce quips, the giggle it elicits from A’whora sending a shockwave down her spine.

“I’m down to go meet them both. I’m already tipsy, might as well go the whole hog and get rat-arsed,” Lawrence says decisively, leaping up from the sofa and fixing Tayce and A’whora with an inquisitive glance. “You two coming?”

Tayce lets go of A’whora’s waist and stretches to make a point. “Nah, babe, I can’t. Got this essay due on Wednesday I’ve not started.”

Bimini snorts. “Yeah, I forgot. You’re dead on it and organised, in’t ya?”

Tayce pulls a face at them while Lawrence asks A’whora.

“Mmph. Think I need a nap before I even think about drinking any more, hun.”

Lawrence eyes them both suspiciously and appears to be about to say something else before Bimini tugs on her arm and distracts her. “C’mon then, let’s leave these two to be boring. Have fun, losers!”

Goodbyes are exchanged between them and Lawrence and Bimini finally leave, the fire door to the kitchen swinging shut and leaving the warm glow of the fairy lights, the blanket, the sofa, and A’whora gazing at her with that shit-eating smirk on her face again.

So Tayce wastes no time in bringing a hand up to her jaw, leaning down and kissing her, and judging by the way that A’whora melts into her and lets out a little happy sigh of satisfaction she’s been waiting for it just as much as Tayce has. They fall together like it’s easy, as if both of the times they’ve done this before have been all the practise they need. A’whora brings her hand to rest against Tayce’s cheek as if she’s trying to somehow pull her closer than she already is, and her neediness makes Tayce giggle against her lips. In turn it sets A’whora off, and when she pulls away their faces are still close and there’s little smiles on each of them.

“What’s so funny, you little bitch?” A’whora smirks, her barbed words cushioned by the way she’s wriggling onto Tayce’s lap and bringing her arms up to circle around her neck just like she did the first time in the club.

“Just you’re kind of giving me mixed signals here, baby. Saying you don’t want things to be awkward and then moving to me the entire film,” Tayce mutters, keeping a playful smile on her face despite the fact her words hold entirely too much truth.

It clearly takes the wind out of A’whora’s sails because she casts her gaze down, pauses before speaking and looking at Tayce from under her lashes. “I didn’t mean that, I just meant…I want us to be able to do stuff and not have it be awkward afterwards.”

Oh.

This is a game changer. So A’whora doesn’t regret anything. She doesn’t want them to go back to the way things were- well no, she does, just with an extra little bit of something more added in. She wants the friendship they have but she also clearly wants Tayce like she wants her back, and the realisation makes Tayce squeeze her thighs together, anticipation now so high she feels scared for her blood pressure.

Tayce tries not to let her realisation show on her face. Instead she looks at A’whora with interest, raises an eyebrow at her in amusement. “What’s ‘stuff’, then?”

“Well, just like…if we’re both horny and in the same flat then it saves us having to swipe Tinder for hours on end only to find a girl with a boyfriend who’s looking to ‘experiment’ and never found another girl’s clit in her life, doesn’t it?” A’whora shrugs blithely despite the blush that’s hit her cheeks, her turn of phrase making Tayce bite back a smile. “Whereas I’ve been told I’m quite good at that.”

The twinkle is back in A’whora’s eye again and the combination of that, her smirk and her words make Tayce’s stomach do a somersault. She can’t let it show, though, can’t let A’whora see her crack so she blinks to maintain her composure, tilts her head with mock-curiosity. “Have you now.”

“Yeah. Could show you if you wanted,” A’whora grins brazenly back at her, shifting a little in Tayce’s lap and sending her into orbit. “Plus I can’t remember if I put on matching underwear this morning, so…you should come help me check.”

Tayce breaks the stalemate to throw her head back in a laugh. “Jesus Christ, Lawrence was right. You actually can’t flirt to save yourself.”

She watches A’whora’s face drop into a pout and instantly feels as if she’s kicked a puppy, so Tayce brings one of her hands up to rest on top of her thigh and gives it a squeeze. “Says a lot for how fit you are that it’s still working though, doesn’t it?”

The pout cracks into a scheming smile, and Tayce matches it before A’whora leans in and kisses it off her face. It’s more heated this time, that little undercurrent of intensity as Tayce runs her tongue over A’whora’s and hears her whimper against her lips. As A’whora pushes her fingers into Tayce’s hair Tayce lets her hands drift around to the small of her back, and the way A’whora keeps shifting needily in her lap only makes Tayce want her more, which she didn’t think was even possible.

“We’ve got a free flat, you know,” A’whora mutters in between little kisses, her voice low as she whispers against her lips.

“Probably a good thing. You couldn’t be quiet if your life depended on it,” Tayce teases, running her fingers over the waistband of A’whora’s sweatpants in an attempt to try and convey how much she needs her.

“Oh, you have no idea, babe,” A’whora smirks before pulling away, ripping her top out from where it’s tucked into her waistband and tugging it off, barely even giving Tayce a chance to react. She’s left in a little black bralet with Playboy logos along a white band at the hem, and Tayce feels her mouth go dry.

She’s really, really hoping A’whora put on matching underwear this morning.

But she’s still taken aback because after all- they’re in the middle of their living room, and any of the others could walk in at any given moment- so she can’t help the way her mouth drops open and the way she lets out a little shocked giggle. “A’whora!”

“What?!” A’whora smiles smugly back at her, clearly glad she’s got the reaction she wanted.

“We’re not shagging on this couch, are you insane?! It’s rotten! Kim Woodburn would have a fit if she saw it!”

“Oh, so we are going to shag?” A’whora regards her with one cocked eyebrow, and Tayce can’t help but mirror it. There’s a pause before she gives a small huff of mock-resignation, sealing their fate.

“God. We’re really doing the whole friends with benefits cliché, then?”

A’whora smirks affectionately at her. “Only awkward if we make it awkward.”

She holds out her pinkie between them and Tayce takes it with a resigned laugh, the childish nature of their promise contrasting deeply with the whole situation.

“C’mon then, bestie, lead the way.”

And as A’whora scrambles excitedly off her lap and Tayce takes the opportunity to smack her ass playfully, she feels her heart soar and her head grow light at the thought of being able to do everything she’s been thinking about doing for over a month with one of her best friends in the world.

She wonders why everyone seems to say that a friends with benefits situation isn’t a good idea. This is already the best decision she’s made in years.

[kiseki-no-scenarios]

hi hi! can i please have some headcanons/ scenario (sfw/nsfw whatever you feel like doing

Teehee, thanks for giving me free reign on this, anon! This is an idea I’ve been playing around with a lot lately, so I hope you enjoy!

GOM being jealous of their son spending time with wife!Reader

Akashi

Imagine a carbon copy of Akashi Seijuro, and that is his son

You were proud of your son Seiji and all his accomplishments, and he was every bit the perfectionist that his father was

In addition to being an excellent student and basketball player, Seiji was also an amazing son who cared about his mother deeply

So much so that father and son often got into debates and arguments over who was taking up too much of your time

You really thought that they were being childish, but little did you know that sometimes, it was like war was going down in the Akashi household

“I’ll cancel my business trip and stay with you, _____.”

“Seijuro, you can’t do that!” You replied, hiding your cough with your elbow as Akashi drew up the blankets around you, eyebrows furrowing in worry. “We’ve talked about this and how important it is for you to go. Besides, Seiji will be here, so there’s nothing to worry about.”

“That’s right, father.” You watch as your son, Seiji, a carbon copy of his father with his crimson hair and piercing red eyes walks up to you, taking a seat by your side as he sets a bowl of tofu soup in front of you. “Go worry about your business. I will take care of mother in your absence.”

You were too focused on the delicious aroma of the hot and freshly cooked tofu soup that you weren’t aware of the sparks that flew between the gazes of father and son.

Midorima

Midorima’s son, Shohei, is more open about his feelings than Midorima is

I can see him being the polar opposite of Midorima when it comes to Oha Asa, he thinks it’s a ridiculous thing to believe in which Midorima is all like GASP

Lives to tease his father and make his life miserable, and is probably best friends with Takao-the two of them often team up together to make Midorima suffer and play pranks on carrot-kun

Is always very open to giving you compliments and telling you how much he loves the food you cook, etc.

Then behind your back your son will stick out his tongue at Midorima

“Honestly, Shin, I’m not sure what you’re so worried about.” You say, rolling your eyes. “Shohei’s at that stage where he likes spending time with his mom, and personally I love it!”

“…He’s doing it to get on my nerves.” Midorima huffs, squeezing his arms around you tighter as the two of you laid in bed together.

“Shin.” You scold Midorima gently. “He’s only in middle school, he’s still a baby!”

Midorima was about to reply, but was cut off by a soft knock at the door. “Mom?”

“Shohei!” Worried, you jump out of bed immediately, opening the door to see your son, biting his lip and looking up at you with puppy dog eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“The thunder, it’s loud…”

“Aww, I guess it’s okay if you wanna sleep with us tonight.” Leading your son over to the bed, you busy yourself with finding another set of pillows and blankets, completely missing the death glare that MIdorima sends to your son, while Shohei only smiles innocently.

Kise

Another one who is a carbon copy of his father

Following in his father’s footsteps, Riki is trying to get scouted as a model-so the first time that he attends a photoshoot and is featured in a magazine, you’re wanting to be a supportive mom

You praise Riki for the awesome job that he’s doing, and he uses this as ammunition to tease his father

Kise is as attention loving as ever, so he whines and complains whenever he sees that Riki is stealing your attention, and doesn’t go easy on him even though he’s his kid

After you left the room, Riki turned and smiled triumphantly at his father. “Mom thinks I look cool!! You’re getting old, dad!”

“How dare you speak to your dad that way!” Kise faked-sobbed, wiping at his eyes before his gaze narrowed and his eyes grew dark in its intensity. “Rikicchi, you’re 10 years too soon to think you could win over me!!”

“Yeah, because I’m young and better looking.”

“_____-cchi!! Listen to all the mean things our son is saying about me!!” ˚‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥᷄⌓˂̣̣̥᷅ )‧º·˚

Aomine

His son is as much of a prodigy at basketball as his father is

Imagine that his son is a copy of middle-school Aomine before all the angst happened

Aomine’s been watching his son’s progress with pride, but soon his son starts getting arrogant and begins to challenge his father to competitions

Aomine’s too lazy to care much about it until he sees that you’re starting to praise Daisuke and giving him all your attention

Which irritates him and makes him take things seriously and want to show his son exactly who he’s messing with

Aomine cuffs the back of his son’s head lightly, ignoring the annoyed “Ow!” erupting from the shorter, dark-haired male.

“Oi, you better not start thinking that you’ve got your old man beat, ‘Suke.” Aomine warns, spinning the basketball in his hand.

“All you do is laze around!” Daisuke shot back, knocking the ball out of Aomine’s hand. “Let’s see if you can keep up with me, old man!”

“Oh, you’re on.” Aomine smirked, dropping into his stance. “The only one that can beat me, is-“

“Daiki, that line stopped being cool ages ago!”

“Oi, ______! I’m tryin’ teach our son a thing or two!”

Murasakibara

A big momma’s boy, loves hanging out with his mom and learning to bake

Definitely has an appetite that rivals his father’s, although for the most part the two of them get along pretty well because of their similar personalities

Murasakibara isn’t very jealous cause most times he doesn’t feel the energy to need to be jealous, but he starts to get pouty when you end up spending all of your free time with your son instead of him

His son is tall, but Murasakibara is still taller so he uses that to his advantage whenever he wants to hound you for your undivided attention.

“_____-chin.” Murasakibara’s got his hands wrapped around you from behind, his chin settled on your head as you try to clean up the mess in the kitchen.

“Atsushi, I can’t get anything done if you keep holding me like that!”

“Make Aki-chin do it.” Murasakibara stated stubbornly, glaring at his purple-haired son. “You should rest and eat snacks with me…”

“Mom…” You were weak to Akira’s puppy dog eyes as he tugged at your shirt. Even though his height was soon to surpass yours, you couldn’t see him as anything other than the adorable baby boy you brought into the world.

“Later, Atsushi. Akira and I have to finish cleaning up the kitchen, okay?” You turned your head and kissed Murasakibara’s cheek, hoping to soothe his impatience.

“Mmm…” Atsushi frowned, shooting his son an unhappy glare as Akira smirked behind your turned back, sticking out his tongue at his father.

---

Masterpost

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[chibi-honey-cake]

How about a drabble with Link having to adventure through cold water, and Sidon gives him a warm place to stay while travelling, said place being his belly?

Spare You The Cold- Prince Si.don x Li.nk

Okay, I put this off too long. Here's your request! TBH, I still haven't played BotW yet (because I knew it would eat literal days of my life lol) so I've been really trying hard to portray things right. I don't really know Prince Sidon well because he himself is a spoiler, but I could not avoid the internet's collective BiG fIsH bOyFrIeNd... ❤️ I really hope I got his character right, I had to look up cutscenes and dialogue. This draws a LOT of inspiration from @nom-central 's wondrous Vore Day story from this year, so if you wanna see the Sidon x Reader fic that inspired this one, click here~ Alright so I guess, here we go!

Contains: Soft Vore, Safe Vore, Half-Size Vore, Male Pred, Male Prey, Willing Prey (I'm also counting this as Protection Vore 'cuz Link needs protecting from his own silly self sometimes. XD) Word Count: 1.5K

=-=-=-=-=

Link knew he should have prepared for this outcome a bit more. Of course the waters would be treacherous when he was venturing this far north. Without protective clothing or equipment, this water would be freezing... But he needed to get beyond this river!

Stubbornness won out as the Hylian hero waded into the water, pausing to brace himself. It was already cold on his ankles and shins, let alone what it would be like in a moment. He had to do this, though. Link couldn't stop now. He took a deep breath, hoped for the best, then threw himself into the water.

Cold! So cold! The temperature was so shocking that it nearly stole his breath away. As soon as he surfaced, Link gasped and spluttered for air. This was one of his bad ideas, he realized immediately. This was not going to work! Gritting his teeth, he immediately gave up this attempt. He quickly paddled himself back to the shore, shivering and panting from the heat-sapping cold.

Well, that was a mess of a failure. Link wrapped his arms around himself, frowning and shivering as he tried to restore more warmth to his chilled skin. He needed to build a fire to warm himself before he caught cold or something.

But it wasn't more than a few seconds later that his plans changed. Apparently his splashing had drawn someone's attention. "Hello there, Link!" a familiar voice called from the river. The blond hero looked up to see the Zora prince waving to him from the water. Link's frown softened into a small smile at the sight, lifting a hand to wave back weakly. Prince Sidon grinned wide, displaying his sharp teeth as he easily swam to the shore. Water cascaded from the large Zora's body as he lifted himself from the water. Link leaned up to meet Sidon's gaze, idly noting that the cold water didn't seem to affect Sidon as much as it did him. In fact, it didn't seem to bother him at all.

"I'm glad I caught up with you," Sidon started as he approached, "You mentioned heading this way, but you traveled faster than I imagined! Especially without swimming." He chuckled, apparently impressed. But he didn't linger on the point for long, diverting when he looked over the shorter hero. "Link, you are not looking so well," Sidon noted, tapping his chin. Link's stance was huddled, his clothing was soaked, and he appeared to be holding back from shivering in an attempt to mask his problem. It clicked in the prince's head immediately. "You didn't actually attempt to swim this river, did you?"

Link winced, knowing his mistake was obvious. His frown twisted, lifting his arms with a stiff shrug.

Sidon's golden eyes widened in shock. "That was reckless!" he scolded gently, "Hylians aren't able to stand colder waters like Zoras! What were you thinking?"

Link couldn't really defend his decision, after all it was just an impulse. Just one of his 'I-bet-I-can-do-this' spur-of-the-moment choices that he always ended up regretting. He shrugged again, glancing guiltily at the ground.

Sidon sighed, running his hand over the shark-like crest on his head. "I think I understand," he murmured, thinking briefly, "You were hoping to go fast... So you figured you could make it, right?" Link agreed with another nod, thoroughly embarrassed by his misplaced confidence. Prince Sidon looked over the shivering hero once more, a mix of concern and respect in his heart. To be so determined to reach your task, even at risk of yourself... It was what being a hero was all about, they both knew that. But he couldn't just leave Link like this.

"I would offer to let you ride upriver with me but you already seem chilled, my friend," Sidon pointed out as Link rubbed his arms for warmth, "And I cannot stand by when I can help!" Sidon knelt down to Link's height, grinning sharply once more, "I can take you beyond the river and give you a chance to warm up, if you like?"

Link's gaze lifted to the Zora's as they shared a silent look between them. Link knew what he was asking- They'd already done this a time or two before. Sure, it was a little- strange, but... Prince Sidon was someone to be trusted. After all, he'd already shown that much. Link nodded in agreement, a shuddering breath leaving his chest.

Sidon's grin widened further, showing off his sharp teeth. "Perfect!" he laughed, reaching out as Link approached, "Always glad to help." The Zora Prince took no hesitation, his larger hands grasping Link's shoulders. His mouth parted wide, a mildly-intimidating sight with how imposing his figure was. But the Hylian trusted him, closing his eyes as he felt a warm breath against his face.

His broad, smooth tongue curled beneath Link's chin, guiding his head over Sidon's sharp teeth safely. His head easily fit into the prince's mouth, warmer saliva slicking his skin. Just the softer warmth of his mouth made the chill in the rest of the hero's body all that more obvious, making him wish that Sidon might go faster this time...

But Sidon paused for just a moment to taste him, his tongue sliding past his cheek. Sidon hummed appreciatively, his tongue turning to the young man's neck. He nudged Link's head towards the back of his throat and a strong swallow pulled him into the entrance of the throat.

Sidon rumbled another hum, swallowing again to push his shoulders down next. It was a good thing Zoras had adapted to being able to take live meals, though usually this method was used on fish. Thankfully their stomachs weren't very powerful, making this technique quite handy for other purposes.

The Zora prince kept his tongue between Link and his teeth, not wanting to harm his friend- and he could taste as he went, win-win. Taking more of the Hylian's torso in, Sidon noted that he was keeping still save for a subtle tremor. Considering how cold Link felt as he swallowed further towards his waist, he should probably hurry up to get the soaked hero out of the cool air.

Link held himself back from fidgeting even though the sensation was still a little strange to him. The muscles inside the Zora prince were smooth, slick, and strong- which, come to think of it, also described the outside of Sidon. His swallowing felt effortless, more of Link's chilled frame slipping deeper inside. He passing by the source of the Zora's powerful heartbeat in a hurry, massaged closer to his destination. Link let out a low sigh of contentment, the warmth of Sidon's larger, powerful body seeping into his and banishing the cold bit by bit. He felt gravity shift to aid his trip inside, limply allowing his frame to slide downward towards the warm belly of his friend.

Sidon lifted Link's shorter frame, both of them working towards their mutual end goal. Prince Sidon pushed the Hylian's legs up as he tilted his head back, the slick muscles inside making the act of swallowing merely a formality. It was over in a few quick gulps, the last of Link quickly slithering down Sidon's throat. He swallowed one last time, making sure to tuck all of the Hylian safely in his stomach before anything else.

He felt the smaller frame of the Hylian slip easily into his belly, a soft gurgle welcoming his arrival. Sidon placed his fingers to his smooth, rounded belly, pressing in slightly to guide Link's body into a more comfortable position. Link accepted his help gratefully, wriggling carefully to nestle into the crook of the Zora prince's tum. "There..." Sidon let out a pleased sigh, "Isn't that better? You'll be warmer in no time, my friend!"

Link's shivering inside had lessened; even though Sidon could still feel the chill from the Hylian's frame inside, he was quickly thawing. Even the lukewarm insides of the Zora were warmer than he had been. It would at least help warm him more slowly to keep Link safe from injury. Link didn't answer with words, but gave a friendly pat to the inner walls of his stomach.

Prince Sidon couldn't help but laugh, answering with his own soft pat. "Good then," Sidon crooned, turning to wade back into the river. He could insulate and help his friend to reach his destination without stress now. "I'll ferry you down the river, you just sit tight."

As Sidon dipped into the cooler waters, his hand caressed his warm tum gently. Another long gurgle rumbled loose as Link shifted to curl up inside. However, Link was still fairly cold... and no one said that he couldn't take his time getting there, did they? Prince Sidon hummed playfully to himself, pushing through the cooler currents with ease. Link needed rest and warmth; letting him stay inside was the least Sidon could do after all Link had done for him and his people.