#and i got the inspo to write

[arhvste]

“this is killing me.” kuroo mumbled as he tossed his phone to his side. “just trust me bro,” his best friend-turned roommate bokuto grinned. “this works everytime for me i swear!”

kuroo sighed before grabbing phone again to refresh his instagram story views once more. several people had already viewed the post-gym mirror selfie he’d taken in attempts to garner attention from one particular follower of his; you. “maybe it’s too cringe…” he muttered while over analysing the photo that had already gained a couple of likes within the twenty minutes it had already been up for. “nah.” bokuto reassured him and pat his friend on the shoulder. “you look sexy.” kuroo stared back at the two-toned haired boy. “… thanks bro.”

this isn’t something kuroo would typically post but times were tough and he was desperate. he’d seen you around campus but luck was not on his side when it came to scheduling and the two of you barely had class time together. yet the little class time you did share, kuroo hung onto it tightly and would let scenes of these weekly one hour classes replay in his head more often than he’d like to admit.

“i feel like a modern jay gatsby,” the ex volleyball captain huffed. “my selfie is the equivalent of the wild parties he’d throw in hopes to get daisy’s attention except i don’t want to post every night, i’ve already made myself cringe with this one post.” bokuto stared back at his friend blankly. “yeah… whatever that means.” kuroo frowned back “it’s a classic, you should know what i mean!”

how much longer was he going to have to wait? bokuto had promised him quick results with this method and so far he’d felt deceived and lied to. if talking to you when he got the chance wasn’t enough to get a conversation going outside the classroom, then social media seemed like the next best attempt to start interacting more.

what were you doing? why weren’t you viewing his story? could you even see his story? did he accidentally block you?

these questions ran through his mind as he quickly rushed to check to make sure he hadn’t for some reason blocked you from seeing his story. he half wished he did because then at least he’d know what on earth was taking you so damn long to see the photo he was increasingly starting to hate more the longer it was posted.

“this is stupid.” he stated as he faced bokuto who had zero concerns in his method in gaining someone’s attention. “it works you just have to wait, trust me.”

kuroo frowned as the little red hearts of others who weren’t you fluttered from the bottom corner of the photo. “look!” his best friend grinned as he leaned over kuroo’s shoulder and pointed to the screen of his phone. “you’re getting likes on it!”

“what’s the point if they’re not likes from the person i posted this for in the first place.” kuroo grumbled back in response. he couldn’t believe he’d been subjected to such an attempt to gain some attention from you. it was ridiculous.

it had been about forty five minutes since he’d posted it and he was slowly losing his mind. sure, the post was going to be up for twenty four hours (if he didn’t give into the voices in his head telling him to delete it) so forty five minutes was nothing, but the minutes were beginning to feel like hours and he was dying inside. why weren’t you viewing it already and what could possibly be keeping you off your phone right now?

“this is stupid.” he decided as notifications from his old team mates started to flash up on his screen. the last thing he needed was lev replying with ‘looksmaxing’ to a post that was secretly dedicated to you. “no, it’s barely been up!” bokuto whined. “you look hot so you should get some replies anyway what’s the big deal?”

pinching the bridge of his nose, kuroo huffed. “the big deal is the person i posted this for hasn’t replied!” what was the point in making sure to go to the gym during a rest day just to take this photo if he wasn’t going to at least make his existence more known to you? he’d even worked his legs enough to the point of managing to achieve the sweaty but sexy look. the muscles in his legs were dying, but his dignity sure as hell wouldn’t.

the college student opened up his phone with the intention to end the mental war inside his head once and for all by deleting the post altogether. bokuto watched his friend in defeat but his eyes flashed. “yes they did!” he yelled and pointed to the screen as your name flashed at the top of his screen.

kuroo’s heart jumped at the sight of your profile picture he’d made a daily routine of staring at and the now blue dot indicating a message from your profile in his inbox. to think he was going to delete this post just a second too, what were the chances?

psyching himself up, kuroo took a few quiet deep breathes before letting the time next to your message pass for a few minutes. he wasn’t an instagram warrior by any means, but he knew enough about general rules in order to not look desperate online.

bokuto watched over his friends shoulders as the two stared in anticipation awaiting the message kuroo had been dying for. this was it. leg day two times in a row was gruelling and he’d regret it for the next few days but it would have been worth it. the countless messages from his old teammates mocking his attempts at a thirst trap could be looked past now that you had finally given into the bait he’d so carefully laid. this is what he’d been waiting for. days of preparing and deciding how to gain your attention had finally paid off and he was about to reap the rewards he’d sown.

clicking the message with baited breath, his heart raced as bokuto’s grip of his shoulder tightened. finally.

‘the label on your shirt is sticking out, make sure to cut it’

“a wins a win.” bokuto filled the silence between the pair as kuroo stared at his phone with a blank expression. “… a wins a win…”

[radiance1]

Danny often felt tired, as of late.

He wasn't certain as to why he did, though. It happened after his, apparent, coronation as the Prince of the Infinite Realms and after finally getting a boyfriend out of that damsel in distress who made him into one.

Which was unfortunate, because though he may try, it was very hard to pay attention on dates when Danny felt he just came from using the Ecto-Skeleton and no amount of sleep would make it go away. Fortunately, however, Billy was very understanding and accommodating of his plight, letting him sleep on him whenever he wanted and having their dates be less mentally/physically demanding things.

Man, Danny loved his boyfriend.

Unfortunately, he was away on one of his Justice League mission things.

Another thing he noticed, is that he liked to sleep in more cold places now. Very, very cold places.

So much so, that he genuinely debated moving to the Far Frozen if not for his parents turning his room into a literal walk-in freezer for him.

Did he ever find out why he needs to sleep so much? No, not really. But man.

Danny could go down for a nap right now.

---

Pariah was having a good, very good day.

He woke up, stretched, ate some food he didn't actually need to, did some light exercises after aeons of not using his sword and just fighting in general and sat down for some tea.

Even had a letter from the Master of Time with a P.S that two humans would be busting down his door!

Wait what-

"Ghost King!" Came the rather loud, effeminate shout accompanying the loud slam of his castle doors. "Where is our son!"

Honestly, Pariah is impressed by the lungs on that human.

"You heard her!" He looked down calmly at the... Actually, what in the infinite is that? Since when did humans go walking around with cannons??? "Tell us where our son is our so help me! Ghost King or not we'll exorcise you right where you stand!"

Pariah blinked slowly, very, very slowly.

Then took a sip of his favorite ghost blend then calmly placed the cup back down.

"You must be the boy's, human, parents I presume?" He asked calmly, gaze sweeping over them both. They seemed to be prepared for war, a burning fire in their eyes as they stared down the very King of Infinity and saw only an obstacle.

Oooooh, how that made the part of him that longed, sung for battle purr in sheer delight.

"Why don't you join me for tea?" He said, waving a hand and conjuring forth two extra, human sized, chairs on the opposing end of his table alongside two more tea cups. "And explain whatever is going on, while you're at it."

The two shared a glance between each other, then slowly lowered their weapons down to a point where they could still draw them at a moment's notice, yet not actively antagonizing the king at the same time-

Oh, he just loves these types of mortals.

-before slowly making their way to their seats, which were right next to each other of course. Married and whatnot.

"Tea?" He flicked a finger, filling their cups with the same that was in his cup but before remembering. "Ah, right. Human and your mortality." He casually mentioned, flicking his finger and changing the liquid to one of the few mortal blends he could still recall. "Worry not, for they are not poisoned." He chuckled lightly.

Honestly, doing such a thing would be beneath him, especially when faced with mortals of such fire.

"Now," He brought his cup to his lips. "Why don't you inform me as to what, exactly, has brought you to my doorstep prepared for battle?"

They, once more, exchanged a glance between each other, making sure the king was still in sight before Maddie opened her lips.

"Our son is missing."

---

The summoning was a success.

A terrible, terrible success.

One that the Justice League, One John Constantine especially, had valiantly attempted to stop.

But, unfortunately, once it got going it seemed to be incapable of stopping.

Faced with an entity being summoned from the Infinite Realms, they had called all of the heroes who were capable that weren't occupied. Shazam, unfortunately, was one of said heroes occupied.

Superman and Wonderwoman? Were not. So, at the very least, they had two of their heaviest hitters available.

The circle glowed a toxic green, growing and growing in glow until it reached its zenith.

Then was snuffed out as brightly as it glowed.

The air stilled, followed by a chill that rivaled the chilliest of snowstorms as if they were standing within one that very moment.

The next moment?

Ice.

Pure, unflinching, jagged pillars of ice rose from the circle the same moment it glow returned. Sticking out from the circle haphazardly and nearly impaling those that stood too close.

Mist, thick, blue mist. Rolled from the pillars of ice, descending down onto the floor with a gentleness that was almost deceptive if not occupied by such cold and being completely and utterly unnatural as it was.

The Justice League readied themselves.

[gothsuguru]

me overhauling my pinned links instead of writing fics and rb things in my drafts

[imaginationblur]

How’s it hangin’ Sal?

Bunnie>>

[embbarnes]

as sweet and adorable as fics are with bucky having fun during new year’s parties…

i think he’d be curled up in his apartment with you trying to dull out the noises of endless fireworks cracking outside the window.

repetitive bangs and booms flashing across his mind as guns and bombs, flashes of gunpowder instead of colorful fireworks.

it quiets…maybe they’re finished. but his stomach would drop when he looked at the clock.

it’s not even close to midnight. don’t leave him alone. please.

three hours to go.

[haechansunshineboy]

*:・ﾟ✧. *:・ﾟ✧.

*:・ﾟ✧. *:・ﾟ✧.

“The cute girl is back.” Haechan thinks to himself. He’d noticed you pass by the flower shop everyday during his shift on your walk over to…wherever it is you went to on the weekdays.

Sometimes you’d pause on your walk to admire the flowers on display outside and even bend down to smell them before leaving. Haechan liked these days in particular when you’d smile brightly at an arrangement. Sometimes it makes him wish he worked the morning shifts so it would be bouquets he arranged himself on display for you.

The chimes on the flower shop door jingle, interrupting Haechan’s work flow, shouting a quick “Be right there!” before adding the final touches to a pick up order.

He wipes his hands on his apron while heading over to the customer that walked in, praying they wouldn’t be too upset about the wait.

Haechan’s breath catches in his throat when you turn around, reflecting the sunshine when you beamed at him. His lips part almost in awe that it’s actually you inside the store looking at him, when he’s spent who knows how long daydreaming about this exact moment.

All those imaginary scenarios when he’d say something cool to impress you were now out the window as he froze in place at the reality.

In this exact moment, he felt like a sunflower, helpless to turn and stare at the bright sunlight you radiated as you offered your name.

“Haechan, nice to meet you,” he blurted out, remembering only now that he was working. “What can I help you with? He replies, hoping his customer service skills will just work on autopilot to save him from the humiliation.

“I was wondering if you could possibly make a bouquet with just yellow flowers?”

“Just yellow?” You nod in response, giving Haechan the go ahead to get started on your bouquet.

The flower shop is relatively small so you watch Haechan move around the shop, his hands delicately plucking out the prettiest flowers and resting them against his forearm.

You notice the thoughtful look on his face as he decides which flowers to add or omit from what he’s collected so far. He’s pretty cute? How come you’ve never noticed him before?

After wrapping up the assorted flowers with yellow film paper to add the final touch, Haechan brings the bouquet over to the register.

“Your total is $25 miss.” He reads the number off the machine. You nod and begin digging through your bag for your wallet.

This is Haechan’s last chance to get your attention in some way and he’s mentally scrambling, when a particular bucket of flowers catches his eye.

He moves away from the register to the bucket and delicately plucks one out. Shaking the water off the stem, he carries the solitary flower back to the desk, laying it next to the bouquet on the table. You’ve already tapped your card on the machine reader when you notice the new pretty flower.

“Um…for you..Miss.” Haechan’s not even sure what to say at this point. He’s definitely not supposed to be giving away flowers from work for free. He’s so going to get in trouble with his boss later.

“Oh! Sorry I already tapped. Should I put my card in again?” You automatically pull out your card again when he raises a hand, preventing you from paying again.

“No-no Miss, um, it’s a…a sale we’re having!”He’s stammering, not sure if you even believe him, he can already feel his face getting hot. “Yeah, uh buy a bouquet get a flower for free!”

“Oh! Um, thank you! It’s beautiful!”

The flower Haechan had picked out really was beautiful, and you couldn’t help but pick it up to admire it. Surprised at the kind gesture (and trying to tell yourself that him cutely telling you about the sale was just for promotion ONLY) you briefly scan yourself to see where you can put it. Haechan notices this as well.

“If you’ll allow me Miss.” Haechan opens his hand to take the flower back from you, resting his other hand flat over his chest. You chuckle and pass the flower to him, seeing his lips curl into a smile.

He takes a pair of scissors from inside the desk and trims the stem of the flower shorter. He admires the flower for a second before moving around the desk to approach you. You take in the height difference between you and Haechan when you realize he’s only inches away from you.

He’s so close to you now and you try not to flush at the thought of imagining him closing the distance.

Haechan sucked in a breath and carefully tucked the flower in your hair behind your ear. The tips of his finger brushed against your face as he pulled away.

“Beautiful.” Haechan muttered under his breath.

Your cheeks turn pink and you look down at the ground to hide your face. Haechan finally remembered where he was and takes a step back.

“If-if you need anything else, Miss…”

You blink back into reality, looking back up to see Haechan’s ears turning red. You shake your head and thank him again for the flowers before stepping out of the store. Haechan watches you go, running a hand through his hair.

He notices you looking outside at the signs for the sales, until it hits him:

There’s no sign out there saying anything about giving out a free flower.

“You fucking idiot.” He’d been caught in his lie and he face-palmed himself. “How could you forget the sales signs are outside?”

He turned away to seat himself behind the desk again and calm his racing heart.

If Haechan hadn’t turned around, he might have seen the smile bloom on your face as you gently touch the flower in your hair, before walking away.

Haechan thinks he’s screwed until the next day when he sees you wave at him on your walk over to wherever.

*:・ﾟ✧. *:・ﾟ✧.

[mikakuna]

jason taking over the criminal underworld at age 19 when he should be curled up under a blanket writing a hurt/comfort fanfic with pinterest open on split screen while instrumental music blares in his headphones and some random sitcom plays on a second screen beside him, all while a scented candle burns on his bedside table and the ice in his drink clinks around the glass every time he takes a sip

he should also wear thick-rimmed glasses and smell like mangoes

[sukirichi]

PLEASE STOP COPYING FICS ‼️

I am by no means gatekeeping concepts or tropes. We all know that it’s normal to see the same tropes or AUs be used differently, and that is not plagiarism. However, I recently found a fic that was oddly similar to my old (and discontinued) Gojo x Reader series, Reckless. The CEO! Gojo is nothing new, and neither is an accidental pregnancy trope. The only reason I am concerned is because this Gojo series I found has the exact same themes as Reckless that consists of: a playboy CEO Gojo with a very notorious reputation, a poor reader who is an employee and asset to the company (someone who works closely with Gojo), reader getting knocked up from a one night stand with Gojo, reader with a seemingly dead/absent mother yet still in contact with her father, Gojo with a very traditional family who does not like reader, and Gojo with an ex he struggles to let go of - which are all elements of Reckless.

The first chapter of that Gojo fic is also eerily similar to my first chapter with the same flow of: YN finding out she’s pregnant and her friend being there for her, Gojo saying he’ll take responsibility because ‘they both made the baby’, YN having to move in with Gojo to take care of the baby, and both of them coming to a mutual agreement that their ‘relationship’ will be purely for the baby’s benefit. The flow of events and specific details about the characters’ backgrounds are too similar to mine.

Again, I am not gatekeeping concepts, just as how I’ve had other writers ask me if they could write their own stories or takes based off of the NAOYA’S TROPHY WIFE COLLECTION or the BONTEN HUSBANDS EXCLUSIVE, and I’m fine with that. I’m even happy people are inspired by what I write. But being inspired is completely different from taking someone’s story and posting it as yours. Please trust your own creativity and skills in writing. You can write amazing stories and have people love them without having to steal from others.

It’s sad to say this is not the first time I, and other writers, have been plagiarized. It’s even more upsetting to know that a friend of mine who has also written a Gojo series (that I’m sure you all know and dearly love) experiences the same issues with the same person. The fact that this is happening to many writers out there is disheartening. We work hard and pour a lot of love in the stories we create. None of us are getting paid for this, and we simply want to share our passions with others. So please, let us be kinder with one another and show love and support the right way. If you love a fic, you give feedback and rb/comment + show support to the writer. You don’t steal their ideas and play it off as your own because you liked it.

[karda]

watching stranger things for the first time since 2016 . yippee! yay! wahoo!

[updownlately]

i hope he's home for you (even though i had to lose you)

| leah williamson x reader

~~~

“Leah, are you kidding me?”

You couldn’t believe this. You never thought you’d be put in a position where you’d have to fight for your girlfriend’s affection yet here you were, doing exactly that. 

You only got a shrug in response, the blonde shuffling on the couch, trying to get more comfy as she continued texting on her phone. 

“I’m going for a little over a month and you’re already replacing me?” The incredulous look on your face didn’t do your emotions justice, the thought of the blonde not cherishing your last few days together absolutely shocking you.

“It’s nothing serious, I promise. Plus, he’s cute, outgoing, and really friendly…it’s going to be a good time,” she replied, not bothering to look up from her phone.

The nonchalant retort didn’t have the comforting effect that the blonde had hoped, actions not lining up with words, only managing to irritate you further. 

Eyebrows furrowing, you got up from your place at your kitchen island, making your way to stand near her. “I hope you do realize that these are our last couple days together before I literally fly across the world for the tournament for a whole month and then some?”

Just barely getting a nod in reply, you huffed, face twisting in annoyance.

You continued, hoping the midfielder would rethink her decision. “You’re gonna miss me you know? Especially when he can’t cook any of your favourite foods. And when our usual Sunday dates don’t happen, you’re going to feel it.”

“It won’t be that bad…he’ll be good company while you’re gone…”

You threw your hands up in exasperation, not believing that these were the words coming out of Leah’s mouth. The same Leah that had practically moved into your apartment after you had made things official. The same Leah that would constantly plan date nights for the two of you, wanting to spend as much time together as possible during the season. The same Leah that would complain every morning when you’d leave your shared bed to only start the coffee pot for the both of you. The same Leah that was now treating you like a spare choice, too caught up in the novelty of the new to even bother to remember the good times you two shared thus far. 

Silence hung in the air, disbelief making you momentarily mute, the other girl too caught up in texting that verbal communication was a hindrance.

It was only when Leah spoke again that you snapped out of your bewilderment.

“Actually, I think I’m going to go out today with him, I’ve just texted Beth and she’s free too…”

You couldn’t believe it. You really couldn’t. This was actually happening. Throwing your head back, you took in a deep breath, one that Leah could hear even from her seat a handful of feet away.

“So what? You’re going to make time for him but not for me? That’s how important I am to you? I leave soon Leah!”

“Oh come on, you’re acting like I’ve gotten a new boyfriend or something!” It was Leah’s turn to be annoyed, the blonde turning towards you as she got up, mild amusement littering her face. 

“You practically have!” You whined back, shoulders dropping, foot gently stomping petulantly.

“Babe, Cheeto won’t be replacing you, he’s just going to keep me company while you’re gone.” Leah was fully smiling now, hands on her hips as she observed your little temper tantrum, it amusing her more than she’d ever let on.

You raised your eyebrows at the skipper, not pleased with her reply.  

“He’ll be here when I’m back…he’s not gonna go away.” You were aware that you sounded absolutely childish right now but the thought of him being here and getting all of Leah’s attention while you were oceans away didn’t seem fair to you.

“Love, trust me, you’ll like him, he’s full of love.” The fond smile Leah expressed as she spoke the words set an uneasy feeling in your stomach. 

“You realize he probably won’t like exercising right? He’ll be more trouble than peace? And what kind of name is ‘Cheeto’? It just sounds stupid.”

Leah couldn’t help but laugh at your last comment, the immatureness of it finally breaking her. 

“It’s not like I can move much anyways? And he’ll keep things interesting. Plus, I think the name’s fitting, he does look like a ‘Cheeto’.” 

With the blonde recovering from her ACL, you knew she was right. Another presence around would help. Still, it didn’t mean you had to like it.

Rolling your eyes, well aware that you had no retort, you turned away from the Englishwoman and hoped that your body language spoke your aversion.

You heard a gentle laugh behind you before the patter of Leah’s footsteps filled your ears, her hand coming to rest on your waist and turning you to face her quickly after.

Bringing both of her hands to intertwine with yours, the blonde waited for you to meet her eyes before speaking.

“Listen…I’m not replacing you. Especially not with Cheeto. Yes he’s a great puppy but he’s no you, okay? Also you love dogs, especially corgis. You’ll love him, I promise.”

Finally giving up your act, you let yourself be pulled into Leah, letting go of her hands in favour of wrapping them around her while she did the same.

“I hope he treats you better than I ever could,” you mumbled into her neck, a teasing smile present on your face as you cuddled further into her warmth.

Leah’s laugh rang melodically throughout the apartment, her arms wrapping tighter around you. “Oh shut it you.”

Grinning, you knew you wouldn’t mind having Cheeto around, glad that Leah had something to fill her heart while you were gone, even if you weren’t the one she was choosing. 

“You deserve the world times two and I hope Cheeto and I can give that to you…” 

Feeling Leah’s pull you impossibly closer at your whispered words, you sighed in comfort, contentness spreading through your body.

[auradaparanormal]

Whilst explaining their evil plan through song to the captured caretaker(s), the Whumper rips the whumpee, broken-spirited and bruised, from their cell and forces them to dance with the Whumper, perhaps stepping on their feet, bending a limb too far, or bashing the whumpee's head into a wall as the caretaker(s) are/is forced to watch. Maybe the Whumpee has been taught this dance already, or they're dragged along on a whim and trying not to slip up in fear of punishment?

[bombuni]

i wish i could quit my full time job and spend 24/7 devoted to jongho and ateez

[albaricomics]

Who do you think proposed, nacha or Francis? And what do you think the wedding was like?

BTW AHHH I LOVE UR ART U ARE THE BEST TNMN ARTIST AND ARE OUR QUEEN😭🙏♥️

OHGOSH THE PROPOSAL AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!!!

I think they had gone on for at least two years, but honestly, Francis knew Nacha was the one from the first 2 seconds he glanced at her. He was on his knees for her since 💘

He was never the type to do big extravagant things or gifts for anyone (unlike Izaack), Nacha knew this since their first anniversary was just walking out, watching a movie and having the entire day for them, simple date, and she was fine with it

But for the proposal my DUDE worked his a$$ out to get the shiniest, most pretty-looking ring, and a very unique one because if it was hit by the sun, the reflections would show the colors of Nacha's eyes

Such a pretty ring you'd get lost in if you stared for too long, just like he got lost in her eyes all the time

So there she was, sitting at a table of the restaurant where they met; (1941) she used to work there as one of the chefs, the man in charge of receiving food and supplies didn't show up, so Nacha was assigned to do that too (besides all the cooking, ugh yk). A knock on the door made her rush to open and just get done with this delivery already, or else her soup will boil up. Door opened, and a "mmm, hello-" just stop abruptly, and somehow the very visibly tired man's eyes managed to widen, focused on Nacha's. Francis was used to just have a man pick up the milk bottles into the place and be done in just a couple minutes, so this was a very... pleasant shocking surprise. She also forgot how irritated she was just seconds ago, being honest it was nice to see someone closer to her age around here. And so it all started.

(1943) After some minutes of Nacha making circles at the top of her wine glass with her hand, Francis arrived... different. He wasn't in his usual half-asleep mood, he looked very much awake, happy to see her and even a bit nervous. She had to ask what's up with him, they were just having dinner, right? He was up to something, holding himself from letting whatever the secret was slip, and just said he ordered for both and it should arrive anytime. I the meantime, trying to calm things (and himself) down, they chatted on all the wonderful things they've happened to live together, what they've learned from each other, and before they could go on with thinking about the future, a waiter stopped the music machine to turn on the radio; a familiar voice was reading this very specific, romantic poem that was read to Nacha, in one of her dates with Francis...

As she realized, she turned to Francis, who was on one knee already, and now exposing a big flower bouquet he'd hidden in his back; words coming out of his mouth were just revealing how pure his feelings for her really were. As he was done and getting to say "today, I have something very special to ask you...", same waiter came with a silver platter, she took off the lid, and an opened little box with a diamond ring was there, along with a note that said:

"My sun,

... would you marry me?"

The excitement she felt was undescribable, a frantic YES!! was all she could say through her tears and excited jumps, immediately hugging/kissing him (which was a very moving scene for anyone who was there, clapping and cheering filled the place.

The wedding, ooh! Just as beautiful as you can imagine, her dress was pure white with a long tail, golden hour sunlight framing their first husband/wife kiss perfectly 🧡💕

[robiinurheart33]

I’m SUCH a sucker for drunk calls/texts confessing their love and y’all know I gotta project it onto ghoap (buckle up guys its a long one I had to break it into two parts SORRY) pt. 2 (clicks for Palestine)

Soap’s blood is pumping. He can feel it heat up in his cheeks in the form of a blush, giggles bubbling up in his throat and his mind loose enough to just sew together a semblance of a bad idea.

Deployment had been boring at first. Stuck at home with unending nervous energy, fingers twitching and aching for the solid feel of a gun, the rough texture of his vest, the adrenaline clapping him on the shoulder before shooting through his veins like a drug. It was so unendingly dull. It’s not like he had anyone waiting for him at his apartment in Glasgow, and their break time was too short to visit his Ma.

So why not invite a few buddies out to drink? No harm, no foul.

Well, that’s what he initially thought. A couple hours later of wheezing and pounding of the table, shoes sticking to the ground and the smell of booze wafting though the air, Soap could confidently say that he was wasted. He’s leaning heavily on his buddy, chum, pal, that he for the life of him cannot remember right now. He’s swaying from side to side, feeling unusually breathless as he mumbles what could be the song that’s playing right now. He’s not sure. He combs his fingers through his hair, scratching a bit anxiously at the nape of his neck. Soap’s not sure if he wants to cry or laugh or vomit right about now. Pretty sure that’s a sign to fuck off, pass out on his bed and deal with the rest tomorrow.

Soap pushes off his… friend? Wait, did he even come with him? And heads towards the general direction where the toilet is. Might as well not look like a homeless person before heading home, wouldn’t wanna scare anyone. His head is spinning, pounding, loud, loud, loud, and nowhere near done with its madness. Soap slams his hand on the wall beside the toilet door, squinting and hoping the door he’s reaching for is the actual door, not it’s double. He does, in fact, get the right door (small miracles), and pushes it open.

He fumbles with his zipper and exhales heavily as he relieves himself. The man beside him in the toilet exits with a sniffle and stumbles out, the music getting louder for a second before the door closes again. Soap leans heavily against the sink counter and washes his hands, placing his fingers together and splashing water onto his face. Soap drags his hands down before greyish-blue eyes look back at him with a piercing stare. He blinks, and re-evaluates again. His hair is flopping to one side, weighed down by sweat. His face is flushed and his skin glows slightly with a thin sheen of sweat, his freckles just shy of being seen under his rosy cheeks, eyebags evident through the haze. He looks down and- oh. It appears his attempt at splashing his face with water wasn’t as successful as he’d hoped, half of his shirt drenched in water. Soap tugs loosely at the corner of his sleeves, releasing the bundled up fabric at his pits. He frowns in discomfort as the sticky heat of his arms lay back down against his skin. He sighs once more, not really feeling like his lungs are filling with oxygen, turning around and laying his hip against the counter lazily before pulling out his phone. 0237. He swipes down on his home screen and pouts at the “no new notifications” tab. He unlocks his phone and swipes through his contacts, unsure of who to drunk text at this hour. Gaz is probably asleep by now, if anyone has a spotless sleeping schedule, it’d be him. Price would have his head on a platter if he texted him about anything non-military business. Laswell, no. Ghost?

Huh.

Ghost…could be someone he could text. Soap isn’t quite sure if he would be awake right now. Do ghosts even need sleep? He huffs at his little comment, tapping on their chat together. Do they have the kind of relationship where soap can dramatically drunk text Ghost at 2am right now? Soap lets out a little bemused huff when he sees that he reached a dead end to their chat after one swipe of his thumb. Of course. Right bastard doesn’t text anyone. He tilts his head up to meet the flickering white light of the bathroom ceiling, watching water damage and mold streak across the concrete. Ghost… how is he during deployment? Does he still wear that mask around the relative safety of his own apartment? Does he have any hobbies? Does he go to the gym as well? Does he long to be back on base? Does he long to be back in the chaos of the war zone, alongside soap? Does he think of soap? Does he ever think to- before Soap knows what he’s even doing, his fingers clumsily type out a greeting.

Hwlli

That’s not quite right.

Gellp

Nope.

Hellu

Oh my god.

Hello

There we go! Soap smiles giddily at his screen, bringing it closer to his face before very carefully writing a much more sophisticated and brilliant follow up.

U up?

He’s the smartest person in the entire world. He supposes a part of himself preens at the thought of even just being able to text someone like Ghost. Big, bad, Ghost. He decidedly does not giggle like a schoolgirl. Just as his mind starts to wander back to the world outside the sickly bathroom, his phone vibrates, and looks down in confusion.

Drunk?

Soap frowns.

Who

You.

Wanna try anf gues, Lt?

You are drunk.

He says it like it’s a fact, like he knows everything. It annoys Soap, much more than it should. He supposes that it could maybe be something to do with the massive amounts of alcohol thrumming through his bloodstream at the moment, but he knows for a fact that it slices through his brain, presses against his throat and contracts his chest.

Yiu think so?

I know so.

Soap thinks Ghost is being a real dick right now.

Ittle know iy all

You’re drunk, Johnny. What do you want me to do about it?

Johnny. Johnny. Johnny. His head spins. If he closes his eyes and imagines hard enough, he can hear the raspy gravel of Ghost’s solid, thick British accent murmuring commanders into his ear. Speaking of noises, his brain starts to register more of the music from outside, the start of a song that Soap can vaguely remember, but he can’t quite put his finger on it right now. The electric guitar, drums and bass all purr in his subconciousness, his lips parting over the words, moving silently as he tries to pinpoint exactly where in the song he is right now. There’s this tune… think of you.. repeat, until I fall asleep, spilling drinks on my settee…do I wanna know? Soap whispers, his mind curling and his ribs creaking. He feels like he’s truly, deeply losing it now, fingers slowly loosening over his phone. His head feels too big and his cheeks are burning, his shirt too tight against his chest and arms and his toes too restricted under his shoes. Everything was funny and everything was too bright and shiny and yearning and blurring and he wishes Ghost was here and he wishes everything was different and he wishes life could just be a little bit easier and-

His phone is vibrating.

Crawling back to you.

[hatkuu]

wow no one has mentioned this yet????? ig i’ll be the FREAK to do it: vamp!kylar will absolutely eat the hell out of u when u have ur period 🧛 he can probably smell when it’s approaching too and gets so excited. esp bc he gets so fixated on when ur ovulating so when he knows ur period is coming he’s like a fruit fly and starts rubbing his hands together all giddy like

- 🎀

oh my gosh yes. yes. i was too embarrassed to write about it but. period sex with ANY kylar constantly floats around my brain. vampire kylar would be sucking on his fingers like he'd just ate a drumstick from kfc. finger licking good HAHSJSJAK

afab reader, period sex, period mentions, reader wears a skirt, general creepy kylar stuff., kylar's weird scent kink thing is in this too...

drabble continued utc!

I think the first time you're having a period with your freakish vampire boyfriend around - he's visibly on edge. Kylar's gnawing at the palm of his hand while sitting next to you in the cafeteria, sweating as his other hand grips on the sleeve of his hoodie. You note that he is looking at everything and everyone except you.

You'll reach out to touch him, placing a reassuring hand on Kylar's shoulder.

"Are you okay, Kylar?"

Kylar flinches back like you've just burned him - eyes bulging out of his head as his hands quickly shield his face from view.

"Y-Yes! I-I'm fine! J-Just—"

He peeks at you through his fingers, pupils dilated until only a sliver of green remains.

"—I-It's just really hot i-in here."

You throw him a weird look, rolling your eyes as you stand up from the cafeteria table. You absolutely cannot deal with this shit right now. Being hit with wave after wave of crippling cramps, the last thing you needed was your boyfriend being noticeably disgusted with you. You shuffle awkwardy, trying not to cause yourself more pain as you stand. Does Kylar hate you now? Is he scared of you? Fuck, you don't know if your irritability is stemming from the slick, sticky blood feeling between your thighs or your boyfriend - lost in his own little world - ignoring you when you need him most.

A strangled, panicked sound escapes Kylar as you stand. The hand covering his face reaches outward, snatching your wrist with a disturbing amount of strength. You try to slip out of his grip - upset that now he wants to touch you - but he does not relinquish his hold no matter how much you tug against it. He exhales shakily, his nails dig into you - they've gotten long - really long.

"Y-You can't go— You can't."

You try to pull away with more force, spluttering with confusion as Kylar refutes your struggle with ease. He can't possibly be jealous - you've spent almost the entirety of this week with him - he's staring at you with this horrible, anguished expression. It's the last thing you want to see today. Your bottom lip twitches beneath your teeth, tears pricking your eyes in frustration.

"Kylar! Stop being so weird— What is wrong with you today?"

Your scuffle turn heads. You can feel so many eyes on you, looking at you and Kylar, laughing as they see Kylar's hand is latched onto your wrist. Only then do you notice the gaunt, sickly shade of his face. Heavy, darkened bags rest under his eyes. His lips are chapped too, more than they usually are. Speckled bits of dried blood rest in between the grooves of each crack. Kylar twitches, sweat slicking his choppily-cut fringe to his forehead. He looks ill. He tugs you closer, talking in a low tone that makes your stomach churn.

"You're— You're on your period."

What. The. Fuck.

You don't remember telling him it was that time of the month? How does he know—

"W-What? What does that have to do with anything?"

"J-Just— c-come with me—"

He breathes in shakily, composing himself as his eyes trail up your form, lingering far too long on the juncture between your shoulder and neck. He stands to meet your height, breathing heavily as you flood his senses with a scent that is so undeniably you. Sweet, but not too sweet. It makes his body buzz with a sickeningly fuzzy feeling. His mouth fills with sailva as you hold his gaze, scrutinizing him with your cutely furrowed brows and a jutted-out bottom lip.

"I-I need to tell you something."

You can see the desperation in his expression. His other hand shakes at his side, aching to latch onto you and never let go. Festering like a fresh wound, Kylar's carnal urges get the better of him. His other hand grabs your shoulder, pushing you closer towards his chest.

He smells different. Like dust, dirt and nothing all at once. He doesn't smell like garlic and pepper. Normally, you're assaulted with the scent of the plants - but strangely - it's gone entirely. You look up at Kylar, brows still furrowed in confusion because this is your boyfriend but... something is inherently wrong about him.

Kylar tugs you out of the cafeteria.

You don't struggle.

-

"I-I need to taste you—"

"H-Huh?"

Kylar pushes you into the dilapidated storage closet, slamming the door shut behind him as he grapples you against the wall, panting against your mouth.

"I haven't— You smell so good, a-and I just need this," He cuts himself off, snapping his gaze toward you incredulously from his position against you. He visibly shudders, twitching as he falls forward onto his knees, grounding himself between your thighs. He eagerly tugs your school skirt down, panting as he is met with your panties. "I-I need this. N-Need to feed f-from you— no one else."

"W-What! Kylar! We are in school right now! It'll be too messy a-and it'll get all over you-"

You choose to ignore your boyfriend's weird phrasing of eating you out. 'Feeding' from you is new.

His forehead rests heavy against your swollen uterus - you don't know what he's doing - until Kylar leans closer to your clothed pussy and begins sniffing you. Sniffing you - and moaning like he should have gotten between your thighs the moment you sat next to him in the cafeteria. You squeak, latching your hands in his hair in a pathetic attempt to steer him away from your bloodied thighs. Your tightened grip doesn't deter Kylar. He groans loudly, unashamed as he tilts into your touch, panting puffs of hot wet air against your skin.

"Y-Yes! Oh, y-you have to let me— you smell so perfect, j-just—ah—just let me taste you,"

He's so close, so close to snapping and just biting into the soft skin of your thighs. His eyes dart between your face and your clothed heat. His jaw is clenched tight, gnawing at the skin on the inside of his cheeks. Strained to the last thread of his patience, Kylar lets out a hoarse, weak sound. His fingernails jab painfully into your thighs, carnal desperation evident in each action. Despite this, he looks up to you, teary eyed from the struggle of holding himself back.

"P-Please."

You nod, loosening your grip in Kylar's hair as he practically vibrates with excitement. He tugs down your panties, eyeing the pad that sits at the seat of them as his tongue slides over his bottom lip hungrily. You whine as his fingers nestle themselves against your overly sensitive folds. Slick with blood and wetness, Kylar's fingers prod at your folds, eagerly pressing against the spots that make your knees weaken against his hold.

Kylar's tongue inches out to lave at the smeared blood across your inner thigh, moaning at the taste. He latches onto you, lips forming a tight seal against blood-slick skin, mixing red with clear saliva as Kylar's teeth brush against you. Two particularly sharp teeth nick your inner thigh and you tug his head backward as his fingers continue softly rubbing at your clit. He presses an apologetic kiss to the wound, affectionately licking at the punctures, careful not to let any of the blood spill onto your white school shirt.

"I-I knew it'd be good—" He gasps, his mouth and wet tongue making quick work of your other blood-smeared thigh. "Y-You're so—ah—so, so, delicious, my love."

You blush, opening your eyes to look down at your boyfriend. Kylar's still twitching with excitement, tongue hanging out in anticipation as he nears your pussy. You whine weakly, pulling on his hair as dull throbbing cramps torment your lower abdomen. Kylar smiles at you, eyes much brighter - looking far less ill than before, too. He pulls his fingers away, admiring the sticky sheen of blood that coats them before quickly popping the digits into his mouth and moaning at the taste. He pushes you backward against the wall of the closet, spreading your thighs wide enough for his head to fit snugly between them.

He licks a stripe against the seam of your folds, eagerly lapping up the blend of arousal and blood. Your hands weave in his hair, pushing his nose against your clit as Kylar laves at your pussy, humming as your thighs trap him against your heat. Kylar groans, savouring the sweet, metallic taste of you against his tongue. He pushes closer, nestling his nose against your clit just close enough that with each press of his tongue against your entrance you cry out in pleasure, hands tightening in his dark hair. Kylar fucks you with his tongue until you're sobbing, wrapping an arm around each thigh to hold you firm against his mouth.

He moans as you grind against his tongue, chasing your release that hums deep within your core. Your grinding stutters as the coil burns hot within your stomach, tightening until it snaps.

You cry out as you cum, squirming as Kylar continues to hold you against his face. He groans, lapping up your arousal as it seeps onto his tongue. Your thighs clench against his head, quivering as Kylar slows his licking into gentle, loving laves against your pussy. He smiles as your hands fall from his hair. Kylar presses a loving kiss to your pussy, inching upward to press a kiss against your bloated abdomen as well. Even though he just gave you the most intense orgasm of your life, he's still so intimate with each of his actions, no matter how lewd or messy.

He pulls up your panties, your skirt, and readjusts the rest of your clothes before fixing his own.

Kylar stands, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, then licking up the blood collected on it. He looks undeniably better than before; gone is the sickly tone of his skin, the heavy bags under his eyes, and now his eyes hold a twinkle that doesn't falter. He helps you up with ease, pulling you into his chest and nuzzling into your neck.

"Thank you," He whispers, smiling against your neck, pressing soft, affectionate kisses to the damp skin. You return his embrace even as your legs still tremble from the onslaught of pleasure Kylar gave you. You feel better now. Your boyfriend isn't disgusted at you. Quite far from it, actually. So you'll ignore that his teeth are sharper, that his skin is as cold as a cadaver's, that you swear his eyes were red at one point. He's your boyfriend. His strange, newfound affliction for blood doesn't mean anything. Your head falls forward onto his shoulder, breathing in his new scent of dirt, dust and nothingness. He giggles at your newfound neediness, rubbing your back in a soothing motion.

"Let's do this again tonight, okay?"

[orange-artblog]

joking around was fun but now I did a ~final of Esther‘s design xp

she‘s a supposed Aim (post dark cream) x Axel (errorink) kid made out of the magic of headcanons and inside jokes (/j)

Aim is by @zu-is-here / Axel is by @ari-cuno

anyway I went and had some more fun with her

alsoo this