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velvetypoets · 2 days ago

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Mister pitch perfect

The perfect Gryffindor golden boy has gone off his rails to catch a Black daughter.

Warnings: James Potter x reader fanfic, James is down bad, I tagged marauders but no peter, Slytherin reader, Black family reader, reader is portrayed as she/her, reader centric, forbidden love trope, SFW, James perspective

havent done this in a while and this will be the first time im posting on this platform. im very sorry if its quite messy!

this was supposed to be a oneshot but i drag it too much. so it'll be some sort of a series oneshot? will also be posted on ao3 soon!

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It was never meant to be. James Fleamont Potter was basically molted into the perfect specimen of man and every soul who has ever walked Hogwarts knew. Sure he would cause trouble every then and again with his fellow mates. Yet of course, James would always dazzle his way out of it with a few charming smiles or reasonings to squeal his way out of being blamed.

He was confident, charismatic, spotless.

And when he meets eyes with you, it was set. James is sitting at his usual spot with the marauders at supper when the moment arrives. You were fixing your necklace to your neck at the Slytherin table, struggling with the clasps as your face scrunches in frustration. James almost walks the whole way over to you and offers his assistance right then and there.

"Stop undressing my cousin with your eyes, Prongs," Sirius brings James back to reality with a slap on the back of his head. He seems to still be having his feast so that was new of him to pick on James in that setting. Remus raises an eyebrow as he stares at the two, "Since when do you care about the other Blacks?"

"That was foul, Pads!" James yell as he rubs his head and glares at his mate, he's used to Sirius playfights but that slap seems to be sincere. He tries to focus on the conversation as he tries to find you again on the table across. You seemed to have moved next to Regulus as he helps you with your necklace. James lets out an involuntary sigh.

"She's different, Moony. She's on the edge too. Pretty sure she's going to find a way to run when she hits 18," Sirius lets out a scowl, "Heard she is to be arranged with Nott. Bloody brilliant that."

"Nott? That Nott? Surely you're joking. That bastard can't even keep his owl alive for a week! How's he going to keep a wife that young?!" Remus exclaims in disbelief. Whipping his head to take a good look at you now that you're a big deal. "I wish I was. I love you but seriously mate, don't. You're big enough trouble yourself," Warns Sirius with his fork right to to James face. A juicy piece of meat dangling right on it.

He bites it though. Sirius lets out a shrieking squeal of, "My meat!", erupting laughter at the Gryffindor table as James chews proudly with a sly smile across his face. The boisterous sound turns a few heads, including yours. Your brows raised at the sudden commotion, only to have the red of your cheeks creep in as you find one of your cousin being the center of it. He watches as you rub your cheeks to hide the tint.

James gulps the meat down. He's quite full himself but he must admit, it's nothing like he has ever had.

——————————————————————————

The next time he sees you, you are sitting by yourself writing in parchments on a patch of grass by the lake. James is in a broom practicing to catch the golden snitch on Hogwarts grounds. Quite foolish but he's gotten bored of the arena and its currently being used by the Hufflepuff team anyways.

He's worried about you sitting all alone in this breeze though. It's quite cold and you don't seem to be wearing enough layers. He keeps a distance near a tree so as not to scare you, although he is quite discontent with seeing just your figure by the lake.

You whipped your head to the skies behind you, "Reggie? Is that you?" You ask calmly, your eyes not missing the shadowy figure blatantly hiding behind a tree, "I saw you from the reflection. Very funny, Regs."

James cracked a smile at your sarcastic tone. He even finds your voice perfect. He fixes himself a little before he reveals himself off the shade and lands in front of you, "So I'll take it you find me quite funny?"

Your eyes widened as you process the man in front of you. Why would James Potter—the Gryffindor golden boy—be here? And why is he talking to you now?

"You're not Reggie." You said still in shock, almost sounding like a question. Your brows are raised as you try to study his demeanor. He's holding his broom awkwardly in his arms, you've always thought James Potter's confident composure was permanent.

"Well if your standards of humour is a certain Regulus Black, I'm sure I'd be comical, love," He cracks a small smile and a hand extended to you, "Potter. James Potter."

You look at James like you're Newt Scamander finding a newfound beast, "I know who you are. Everybody does," You said in disbelief, finding the whole situation suspicious. The breeze of wind moves his curly hair to his face, framing it gracefully, "What I want to know is why are you doing this? We're not exactly fit to be friends."

"Why that's quite bold of you, lovely. Who said I'd like to be friends?" He said as he leans closer. You never noticed it before but his glasses are rather clean today, his hazy eyes look at you with glimmer in them you've never seen on anyone before. You think to yourself if its one of the charisma of being James Potter.

You stood your ground, you would have never thought to ever be face to face with this dazzling man in front of you. You are a Black though, your legs won't give in even if you try, "Well that's settled then. Are you here to pick a fight?" You ask him plainly, crossing your arms upon your chest.

James finds it adorable, he knows full well of his effects on people and especially of course girls. What he doesn't understand is the effect you have on him. "The contrary, darling. I have a proposition for you."

You lift a brow and yet let him continue, "I heard you're in quite the predicament with Nott. Now I know a way to get you out," His claim makes your eyes open, you let him continue. Words dripping in confidence, "A date. With me."

This time, you can't help but let out a laugh–of which James can't help but take in the sight. He's completely enamoured.

'What? Huh– Hold on. You can't be serious," You looked at him as if he had gone mad, the thought of a Black and a Potter dating is out of this world, "I don't know what kind of prank you're up to, but do you seriously think I'll fall for that?"

"Wait, I am serious! Picture this, if Nott knows you're going out with me he'd be livid, enough to break off the arrangement. I mean have you seen the way that scum looks at me? It's like he has this permanent face of eating vomit flavoured Bertie Bott's Beans!" He rants as he joined in on the laughter with you.

You are smiling as the laughter reduces to giggles. As stupid as it is, it has a good chance of actually working. You pondered, there's still one thing on your mind, "What's in it for you? Would I have to do anything?"

James let out a smile, his palms are sweating like he's deep into a Quidditch game, "Well I get to see Nott lose his bride—" He pauses, confronting himself whether to tell you the real truth or not, "I mean I'll also get a beauty on my side."

You roll your eyes at that, "Don't you try to charm me, Potter. Give me the real reason or its off. I have a feeling you need this more than I do,"

She's right, James thought. He was about to play it off if you denied it straight away, he wasn't entirely sure you would actually take him seriously. He grasps the sight of you for a bit before closing his eyes tight, "Okay, how about I tell you the reason in a week— Maybe a month. You don't have to do anything, we'd just go out like normal couples do. Sounds good to you?" He said, he extends his arms to you for a handshake. His thoughts full of prayers to Merlin so you wouldn't notice the tremble in his arm.

You grin the same one James had seen a million times on Sirius's face, the Black's grin of content. You shake his hand firmly, his big ones almost encasing yours, "You've got yourself a deal, Potter."

James is using every atom on his magical being to control his ecstasy as he smiles widely at you. Once the handshake is done he reaches for his scarf over his neck and wears it on you, "Nice doing business with you, sweetcheeks. I do hope you start wearing warmer clothes though. No snogging will be done if you're in Pomfreys care."

She looks good in my color

Well technically so is the color of a quarter of the schools because of course its a Griffyndor scarf.

"You surely don't expect me to go back. To my dorm. Through the halls, the stairs and the common room. With this on?"

Oh I won't regret this one bit, James thought. He chuckles at your words dripped in such a sarcastic tone, "Of course not, darling. Do you think I'm mad?"

He extends his arms for you to hold, "We'll go back together. Through the halls, the stairs, even the common room. I heard you folks have lovely parties there."

You let out a chuckle as you circle your arms around his, "Oh, the best ones. Your Gryffindors ass is so not invited though."

"Well at least I do have a lovely one, don't I?"

"Oh shut it, Potter!"

——————————————————————————

Another storm of commotion is coursing through Hogwarts. A lot has played it off as a mere prank. James grins at the thought of it. He has only you on his mind lately, cherishing the bits of conversation you and him had.

He's on his way to charms class this morning, one that inconveniently does not have you in it, he checked. He checked your schedule last night sneaking through administration with the invisibility cloak.

Moony and Pads by his side as usual. Sirius seems to still haven't caught wind of it, his hair tousled from a good sleep. Apparently he was up all night helping Remus solve a 10k piece magic puzzle.

Won't be long with how loud the students are gossiping though. James let out a coherent sighs. He had an amount of grins with knowing looks from a couple male students and even a pat on the back by a random Slytherin, "Alright, what is going on?" Remus breaks first. Stopping the two boys right before the class door.

James crackles a laugh, "What's going on? Nothing's going on, mate! What?" Moony lets out a drawled scowl on him, one he makes when he pieces that they're in some kind of trouble, "Why is everybody on Hogwarts up your pants then, Prongs?!"

Sirius yawns as he hugs James by the side to lean his head on him, "Yeah... Saw that too even if my eyes were closed the entire walk. You can tell us mate, come on," He does notice the lack of scarf on his mate's neck though, none in this rapidly chilly morning? "Prongsie, where's your scarf? I could really use a pillow here–"

"Oh! Thank Merlin! One second late and I would've thrown this in the bin. Here, take this off me," There you are with James Potter red and yellow scarf on your hands, just coming out the door. All three boys were quite startled, "What? Wait. This isn't your class," said James. His eyes land on the presence of a Slytherin scarf wrapping your neck. James wishes he could take that one instead.

"Yeah... I'm sort of risking being late to Dark Arts for this but I can't take the whispering anymore. I might square the next person who even looks at me!" You told him, your grip on his scarf tightens and James wishes the fabric would stretch upon your nails.

Sirius is well awake now, his bagged eyes darting between you and James as if you're both insane, "Hold–Hold on! What is this? What is happening, Why do you have James's scarf?" He cuts, going between you and James to put a distance and blocks James view. Remus gives James a 'he did warned you, mate' face at the side.

James on the other hand, in too much of a thrill of seeing you this early in the morning, "You could also just admit ya didn't want me to get cold, love. Thanks for the thought there," He said almost shouting as he stands on his tips to try and see you from above Sirius's head.

You let out an annoyed grunt, "Ugh I don't have time for this. Here Siri, give this to that stupid friend of yours. I'd like to keep my Dark Arts seat next to Cissy and Malfoy's been eyeing it like the vulture he is," You throw James's scarf to your cousin's head not caring if it covers his vision, it earns a few chuckles from nearby students. He trashes to take it off and looks at you in betrayal.

You're about to run off to Dark Arts and leave your cousin and his foolish mates when your feet stop and turn you back, "If you still want that date to happen. Expect my owl, Potter. She's a snow named Emerald."

"Oh and it is lovely to meet you, Remus. Do take care of my sod cousin and my idiot boyfriend. Make sure they're out of trouble," You smiled sincerely at Remus, you actually do admire him a little. You love dark arts and your professor rants and rants about Remus's talents.

Remus seems taken aback, but that would make the three of them. You left after he reciprocated your smile and responded with a polite, "You too, (Y/N)."

And as such, you scurried off in a rush to go shoo away Lucius Malfoy from your seat and save Narcissa. Leaving behind a bewildered Remus, an angered Sirius, and a lovestruck James.

James keeps his eyes on you until you turn the corridor, a stupidly huge smile stays on his lips. He turns to find the reality of Sirius's wrath upon him. Remus is quite literally holding back Sirius with his whole body, it's quite an advantageous turn of events that Sirius hasn't had his proper sleep yet.

"Boyfriend! Boyfriend?! When did you even– How is this— Let me go, Moony! He's going to have an earful!"

He definitely will get that earful later. James grins an apologetic smile at Remus as he picks up his scarf that fell to the ground. He could already smell the sweet of your scent from a distance.

Remus lets out a huffed noise, "You really do always get what you want don't you?"

James doesn't reply. He wraps his own scarf on his neck, embracing the warmth it does to his skin. Your scent crashes onto him like tidal waves. A tint of rose blooms on the pale of his cheeks.

He smiles faintly at the open skies over the hall window. He wishes for an owl he hadn't even met for safe travels.

#james potter #james potter x reader #james fleamont potter #marauders fanfiction #james potter fanfiction #forbidden love

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swiftiethatlovesf1 · 16 hours ago

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Family breakfast

Hii guyss, here's a new one-shot about Toto. If you want to read more stories of mine here's my masterlist :)

A quiet morning turns into delightful chaos when you discover your husband and son’s surprise gone awry. This leads to a heartwarming family moment filled with laughter and love.

The first thing you notice as you wake is the stillness. Normally, the house would already be alive with the sounds of your son, Jack, running down the hallway, his little feet pounding against the floor. The absence of that familiar noise pulls you from your dreams. And then it hits you: Toto isn’t beside you either. He always stays a little longer in the mornings, kissing your forehead softly before slipping out of bed. But today, nothing.

You sit up, pushing the blankets aside as you glance at the empty spot beside you, feeling a small pang of curiosity. Throwing on a cozy sweater, you pad down the hallway toward the faint smell of… something. It’s not exactly appetizing, but it is familiar. There’s flour in the air, a hint of chocolate, and unmistakably… burnt something.

Rounding the corner, you arrive at the kitchen doorway and pause, stifling a laugh at the scene in front of you. The kitchen is in absolute disarray: flour streaks cover the countertops, bits of batter have splattered on the walls, and your husband and son are standing there, Jack on his stool next to Toto, both looking down at what appears to be a very charred attempt at pancakes.

They’re completely unaware of you watching them, too focused on the burnt batch in front of them.

“Maybe if we put enough syrup on them, she won’t notice,” you hear Jack say in a serious tone, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes as he looks up at Toto. Toto raises a brow, giving him a playful smile. “You think that’ll work?”

“Well, it works when you make toast,” Jack whispers back, eyes glinting with the wisdom of his young mind.

You clear your throat, unable to hold back a chuckle any longer, and they both spin around, caught red-handed. Jack’s face lights up in that special way, a smile spreading wide across his cheeks as he shouts, “Mama! We were trying to surprise you!”

Toto laughs, raising his flour-covered hands in surrender. “Our plan may not have gone exactly as we hoped,” he admits, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. “Turns out we’re not quite as skilled as you when it comes to pancakes.”

You take a few steps forward, pretending to survey the kitchen with a critical eye, your gaze landing on the plate of charcoal-colored pancakes. “Well,” you say, folding your arms in mock seriousness, “it’s the thought that counts, right?”

Jack laughs, his pride undented as he stands tall on his stool. “I helped with the mixing, Mama! But the flipping is hard.”

Toto nods, pretending to look solemn. “It really is harder than it looks. I think we’re going to need some expert intervention here.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” you say, feigning skepticism. “Do you think you two can handle working as my assistants?”

Jack nods so vigorously his little curls bounce. “Yes, yes! I’ll mix it all again!”

You smile, grabbing an apron for yourself and tying it around your waist before stepping forward, guiding them both in their roles. Jack is in charge of mixing the batter again, but this time, you make sure to guide him a little more closely. His giggles are infectious as he watches the lumps disappear, proudly showing you his work. Toto tries to take charge of flipping once more, insisting he’s got it this time, only for a pancake to land halfway on the counter, sending Jack into fits of laughter.

Eventually, after much laughter and a few (successful) pancake flips, you plate the perfect stack, golden and warm. You bring it to the table, setting out butter and syrup while Jack bounces over to his spot, already piling syrup on his stack.

You all sit down together, and Jack digs in immediately, a trail of syrup dribbling down his chin as he takes his first big bite. Toto gives your hand a gentle squeeze under the table, his thumb brushing lightly over your knuckles as he leans close, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “I think next time, we’ll let you be the head chef from the start.”

“Or maybe,” you tease, glancing at the two of them, “we keep it a team effort. But maybe a slightly less… chaotic team effort?”

Jack, overhearing, looks up with a big grin. “Family team!” he declares proudly, raising his fork in a sticky salute. You and Toto laugh, clinking your forks with his in agreement.

The three of you linger over breakfast, taking your time with each bite, sharing stories and laughter as the sun streams softly through the kitchen windows. There’s something magical about this moment, the simplicity of syrup-sticky hands and flour-dusted counters. Sitting here with Jack’s joyful giggles and Toto’s quiet warmth beside you, you can’t help but feel a deep, overflowing gratitude for mornings like this—messy, beautiful, and shared with the two people who mean everything to you.

#f1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 #toto wolff x y/n #toto wolff x reader #toto wolff imagine #toto wolff

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capitalisticveins · 1 day ago

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Lots of Headcanons #1

Due to recent events I'm writing lots of mini headcanons to liven the mood, starting with my very BESTEST FRIEND @cyc-chilla

Avior

Avior has a drawing tablet he uses whenever he gets stressed, which is a lot.

He specializes in backgrounds, landscapes, and designs/patterns.

He prefers digital art rather than traditional art since it’s more forgiving, but he still dabbles in watercolors a lot.

Avior doesn’t often eat human food since it’s not necessary but when Starlight speaks about their favorite foods, or cooks anything, he usually tries the food, whether it looks appetizing or not.

He played tic-tac-toe almost 100 times to entertain himself in “hell”, and he lost to himself more than half of that amount.

Sam

As a kid, Sam would usually hang out in the nearest park, away from home, and try bringing home critters from there. Whether it was a squirrel, bugs, rabbits, stray cats, didn’t matter. He liked picking them up and trying to take them home. It worked a few times but someone would always find the animal and toss it back out.

Sam was a cowboy for Halloween from the ages of 7-12, and he regrets telling Darlin’ about it every passing day.

He hasn’t bought a new iPhone since 2018.

The only holiday his family spent together was Christmas, and he missed it greatly when he moved to Dahlia. He didn’t celebrate with the House for a number of reasons, so the first one he spent with other people since moving was when he started dating Darlin’ and he felt emotional during the entire day.

Butter Pecan is not his favorite ice cream flavor, he just says it is to make people mad. He still likes it, though

He spent an entire summer when he was 11 selling lemonade and water in his local park to raise money to buy a SNES. He never did have enough to buy one but he had a shit ton of money for an 11 year old.

Him going to Six Flags in Cali was the first and only time he’s ever been to an amusement park.

Porter

When she was alive, Porter got his mother a bouquet of flowers every year for mothers day, with differing handwritten notes. Even after his presumed death, she’d get flowers sent to her home every mothers day, and to this day a bundle of flowers and notes are put on her grave.

He uses a flip phone when calling people he doesn’t like so he can hang up on them by slamming it shut.

He finger guns himself in the mirror

Porter cried when the Queen died

His love-language is gift-giving, so Treasure just has a bunch of real expensive jewelry in one of their drawers because Porter gives them so much of it.

Although he prefers physical touch, and Treasure always delivers it.

Porter wears eyeliner.

Caelum

Cannot color inside the lines of a coloring book

Caelum does not like feeling constricted, so whenever he’s on Elegy he makes his form wear flowy and loose clothes to give himself space

Whenever he drinks kool-aid he rushes to the nearest mirror to look at his tongue changing color

When using a coloring book, he usually draws with a single color crayon, no two colors unless he’s drawing it for his siblings, Freelancer, or Gavin.

He finds bunk beds adorable until it’s time for him to sleep on one

Caelum cannot sleep on a normal day. He can try, and he can pretend, but if he’s not doing it to help someone else, he can’t just “go to sleep”, he’s too excited for anything and everything.

Due to accelerated energy, Caelum (and most Empathy Daemons) flies faster and for longer than other demons.

He gave his physical form braces once, took them off almost immediately.

#can you tell i drew a blank on Avior #Nevy you might get urs last its hard writing for William #next batch coming in tmmrw bc its 10pm BUT EVERYONES GETTING THEIRS WRITTEN DW #redacted audio #redacted asmr #redacted sam #redactedverse #redacted avior #redacted caelum #redacted porter

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millersfinest · 10 hours ago

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the thing in your chest that beats ³ | e.w

santa barbara!ellie williams & ex-firefly!reader

wc: 5.3k

mini-series: california | oregon | idaho (you’re here) | wyoming

blurb: you put up a good fight with those rattlers, but it wasn’t good enough—all it got you was strung up near a beach where the sun scorched you dry. abruptly, their set-up gets fucked by their own prisoners, saving your life by only a thread. but the wrath that lingered under your skin was immense, and you’re not the only one to experience that phenomenon. when another damaged soul encounters your brittle state; the dreams that put you in a tough position manifest into reality. along with a few extra miscellaneous things…

cw: angry!r, slow-burn romance, proximity trope, both reader and ellie on a path of redemption, afab body parts mentioned, vulgar language, some joel references, inner guilt, use of ‘y/n’ and ‘woman’, ellie has a panic attack, shambler appearance (ew), and for the fun part… SMUT, switch!reader, oral sex, fingering ( :P ), barely any dirty talk because this is a loving experience y’all (and i don’t really know how to write that lmao), ellie might be a little ooc but i just perceive her to be this way idk.

note: to start… if anyone needs anyone to talk to after hearing the results of the election, please don’t be afraid to direct message me. especially my fellow american queer/trans friends. we are truly in some tough times right now. i hope this chapter can serve as some sort of distraction for what’s going on. as always, enjoyy!

Idaho

Welcome to the Gem State, the sign read when you passed the state line into Idaho a few days ago. The place you’ve been dreaming of was getting closer and closer—that feeling of relief was near! You could feel it bubbling in your stomach, enriching the nerves that ran under your sore muscles.

Since Oregon, you and Ellie had barely shared a full conversation. It’s only been small directions, or helpful interjections with infected, or even, guidance in getting around potentially dangerous people.

This time around, you harbored most of the frustration and anger. Wrath wrapped itself around you once more, forbidding you from wondering what her inquiries meant—what bringing up Honey meant. Ellie tried to service you the best she could, trying to make up physically for what she couldn’t vocally. Resuming her position as your caretaker, but that only made things worse.

The wounds and weaknesses of Santa Barbara were healing but were being replaced by new ones. Surface cuts, sprained ankles, and scorned hearts. Ellie could ask you nothing without the pitch of your voice raising an octave. It wasn’t anything like the character she knew you to be.

Or the months you spent together thus far meant nothing—she never actually knew anything about you.

The annotated map relied in your hands as you approached an administrative building. You had spent the previous night planning the route, instead of engaging in small talk with your partner. You were, somehow, still trying to prove to Ellie that you didn’t need her. Indulging in an individual competition of: who does it better? It was a drastic understatement to call you a competitive person. And her incessant need to make up for the misfortune of her curiosity wasn’t helping.

“Here’s the firm…” You mutter, immediately trotting to the front doors. American Falls Firm. Pulling at the handle, you realized it was locked and barricaded from the inside. Huffing, you folded up the map, sliding it into your backpack. “Looks like we gotta find another way in.” Dusting your hands, you began to survey different sides of the building. She followed behind you, keeping an eye out for lingering infected and any other inhibitors.

Humming to yourself, you squinted at the broken window above you. Turning your head, you peered at the auburn-haired woman who’s back faced you. Your Beretta resided in her hands as she kept a keen eye on the surroundings. Ellie didn’t mind doing that job because it kept her mind from wanting appeal to you. It kept her from wanting to beg for your forgiveness. After all, this was just her doing you a debtless favor. She shouldn’t have been so attached to you anyway.

“Hey,” You waved her over. “I need a boost.”

She met your eyes, nodding with firm lips. “Sure,” Slinging the shotgun around her body, she bent at the knee and cupped her hands low. Placing your hands on her shoulders, your irises danced over her features, briefly. Dirt attempted to blend in with the freckles over her nose, but they didn’t stand a chance—you knew the difference. Her olive eyes did well to avoid yours, feigning a look of impatience. “Up you go.”

Ellie boosted you up toward the window with all the strength she could muster. Fingers catching onto the edge of where the floor and window meant. Using your own strength, you pulled yourself into a room illuminated by daylight. Groaning under your breath from the stretch of your muscles. Crouching, you leaned back down to pull Ellie up.

Her hand attached to your forearm, crawling up the stone wall and into the room. Ellie hissed as she crawled inside, holding her wrapped ankle to alleviate some of the pain. Standing to your feet, you looked down at her with flickers of concern in your eyes.

The other day, she tripped over a thick fallen tree branch from the morning dew—spraining or straining her ankle, you couldn’t remember the difference. All you knew was that she hurt her ankle badly, but it wasn’t broken. Ellie wrapped it herself with athletic tape from your bag; with her back facing you in embarrassment.

“Can we keep going, or do you need a second?” You inquire, avoiding your eyes, dismissively. Like you didn’t care what her response was, even though you did.

“I’m fine…” She stood to her feet, wringing out her foot.

“You sure?”

“I said I’m fine…” Ellie grumbled, walking off to another side of the room.

It was a barren office that the both of you meandered through. Picking at the miscellaneous items that could serve you in any way. There were two desks that occupied the office; decorated with familial picture frames and old-world gadgets that made no sense to either of you.

Slowly, pushing open the door, the entire building appeared silent. Light peaking through broken and foggy windows, greenery growing inside and through the deteriorating structure. You found it rather beautiful that the earth was taking back what was hers—negating the infected, of course. Your fingers traced the vines that grew through the cement. Those plants were living despite opposition; everyone could learn something from that.

Breaking through barriers and walls, despite their resilience.

You glanced at the auburn-haired woman, keeping a safe distance from you, scoping out the place. “What’s the route out of here?” She asks, dragging her sneakers against the cracked floors. There was a slight limp to her gait, but made sure to walk as normal as possible when your eyes were set on her.

Blowing air from your lips, you respond. “The ground floor. There should be a stairwell around here somewhere.”

Usually, lower floors of abandoned buildings worried you. Infected find themselves huddled in their own corrosion. In darker, moister, places they intensified. Some merging to the walls, other growing boils of acid.

When your eyes set on a metal door that led to the floor you needed to get to, your heart pumped blood into your veins. Pounding in your ears as an alarm. Through the window, white flurries fluttered by, confirming the one thing you were concerned about: over-developed infected.

“Mask up. Spores.” You swing your bag around to dig for your mask.

Ellie did the same, with slight hesitation. “Is the this only way through?”

You nodded, tightening the strap around your head. “Yeah, if we still wanna knock off some time.” Opening the door, you armed yourself with the pistol that sat snuggly in the waistband of your jeans. The walls were adorned in the crusty corrosion of the sick, bubbling in corners. You frowned under your mask, stepping slowly down the stairs. Ellie following behind you with the same caution, shotgun drawn.

Errk!

Both of you stopped moving in the stairwell at the sound of a clicker. You swear under your breath, glancing at your partner. “We’ve got company.” She muttered, nodding at you to go forward.

Moments like this was when you relied on her the most, but you’d never admit it. It was nice to not have to endure circumventing infected alone. Ellie was your backup, and you were hers. Even if you were still upset with her—underground that didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was staying alive.

Navigating through the dark, with your lights flickered on, the both of you managed to stealthily kill the clickers wandering around. But when a pair of crusted hands leaped from the wall, pushing you onto the ground… Another beast was alerted.

With the sound of Ellie’s shotgun, a loud monstrous grumble rumbled from down the hall. You pushed the stalker to the side, scrambling to your feet. “Ellie, how many bullets do we have?” You asked her, adrenaline pumping through your body.

She checked the chamber, cursing. “Fuck! Three rounds.”

Picking up the pistol from the ground, you checked the magazine. Only a few bullets. The shambler began to stomp, approaching the two of you, increasing into a run. “We gotta go!” You grab her hand, tugging her a tight hole in the wall; tall enough for you to slip through.

Running into the room, you realized there wasn’t an exit. There was only a door, but it led back out into the hallway. The quick call you made to evade the boiling beast, was a mistake. Before you could even regret the decision, the shambler bursted through the wall.

Without command, Ellie began firing the shotgun. First bullet. Second bullet. Third bullet—she was out. It roared, releasing puffs of acid. You both dodged by the skin of your teeth, running around the room like frightened mice. Now, it was your turn to unleash pointless blows to the creature. Emptying the rest of your magazine into the bulbous creature did nothing but anger it. Somehow, it found a way to creep up behind you and Ellie, taking her by the throat.

“Ellie!” You exclaimed, voice trembling in horror. Her hands scratched at its arms, pounding to be set free.

A pipe leaned out of a wall as an escape route, a message from God—fate, prying at you. Using the strength of a scared shitless person, you yanked the pipe free, falling back onto your butt. Quickly, you stood up and began hacking at the thing. Sounds of effort and defensive fear leaving your lips. Dropping Ellie onto the ground, he turned to you, roaring. However, your hacking at his body didn’t stop until he was on his knees. Gurgles left his corroded and bubbled mouth, but you used it as bait to make your final blow.

Heaving over its corpse, your back hunched, the pipe slipping from your sweaty grip. She coughed, reminding you of her presence, slumped against the wall. Her breath began to grow heavy, hand on her chest.

“Oh, my God— Ellie!” You crouched beside her, unsure where to place your shaking hands. She attempted to crack a smile, to pretend she was fine, but she wasn’t. The imperative organ in her chest beat faster than it should have, knocking the wind out of her. She couldn’t breathe—at least it felt like she couldn’t.

Ellie was panicking.

“Hey,” You tried, deepening your eyebrows, sliding your hands from her shoulders to her neck, to her trembling jaw. “Ellie,” Her hand shot up to grip your wrist with vigor, looking into your eyes, intensely. “Ellie, it’s okay. You’re okay.” Your free hand pushed strangling hair from sticking to the plastic of her mask.

The grip on your wrist moved to the entrapment on her face. She began to claw at it, whining. “No…” You attempt to stop her fast, strong movements, but she shoved you away. “Ellie— no! What the fuck are you doing?!”

She peeled the mask off her face, taking the deepest breaths you’ve ever seen. Leaning back, your eyes watered, watching her gasp for toxic air. Ellie pushed the strands of her hair off her face, leaning her head against the cement of the wall. Her heart was settling, but then she looked to you. Olive eyes meeting your teary ones. “What the- what d-did you just do?” You stammered. “Ellie…”

You enunciated her name with such weariness that it made her feel guilty. Still, getting herself together from her panic attack, she felt the need to console you. But she didn’t have the energy.

Breathing heavily under your mask, you watch as nothing happened to her. She doesn’t convulse, choking on the toxic elements in the air. There was nothing different about her. Absolutely nothing.

“I can…” Ellie breathed. “I can explain later. Let’s just get outta here first, all right?”

Having no choice but to believe her, you stood to your feet. Reaching down for her hand. When you pulled her up, her ankle gave out on her. “Shit,” Ellie cursed, furrowing her eyebrows. “The harder they fall, huh?” She dryly chuckled.

You frowned, wrapping her arm around your shoulders.

Unamused, you found a way out of the ground floor. Unmasking at the first sight of daylight. You didn’t have to travel far with Ellie’s arm wrapped around your shoulders. The only place that was able to receive your weak bodies was a little bookstore around the corner.

It was clustered inside. Book aisles placed close together, where only a single body could shimmy through. A pair of metal stairs spiraled up the back of the store, leading to another floor of books. Dropping all of your things, including Ellie’s arm, you stalked up those rusty steps with hot tears welling into your eyes.

Ellie leaned against a bookshelf, pressing her lips into a line. Watching every harsh step you took, ascending up the stairs. Her own eyes began to fill with tears, glancing down at her shaking hands. Before they could fall, she harshly wiped her face and decided to busy herself. It wasn’t a bad time to take inventory.

Upstairs, you found yourself huddled in a corner. Hot tears streaming down your cheeks, weeping as low as you could. The tears falling down your face was a release of fright. You realized something on that ground floor that you wish you hadn’t. That freckled stranger you had come upon, or who had come upon you, in Santa Barbara was becoming a meaningful person in your life. Unbeknownst to you! Ellie had snuck up on you like a rodent in disguise.

That distant figure that once hovered in dim lighting who you didn’t trust has become so much more. You trusted her with your fucking life. And it only took a few months on the road.

Having barely recovered from the threat of that shambler, she snatched her mask off like it was nothing. In those few second, your heart beat so loud it stalled time. You thought she was going to die right in front of you, willingly.

It took you back to a moment in your past—the death of your mother. Before you reached Catalina Island, your mother sacrificed herself to ensure that you made it there. She gave you her mask to take the spores head-on. Promising that she’d hold her breath; at fifteen, you were silly to believe her.

Just then, Ellie’s gasps proved your immediate worries and fears wrong. She wasn’t going to die in front of you like your mother did. The viral spores on that floor didn’t kill her. Making you wonder: who the fuck were you traveling with?

Wiping your face, messily, you wander back down the rusted steps of the bookstore. You spot her with both of your bags opened, going through the supplies you had. Counting under her breath. When her strained eyes caught yours, she ceased all movement.

“You know,” She began, looking at the hand that was missing her pinky and ring finger, massaging her palm. “I think, that was the most you’ve ever said my name.”

You frowned, walking through the aisles, cheeks stained with tears. “What the fuck was that back there?” The sound of your voice was weak and frail.

“A panic attack…”

“I’m talking about the mask, Ellie. You breathed spores…?”

She licked her lips, averting her olive eyes. “I’m immune…”

A beat passed between the two of you, roping around your still bodies.

Ellie watched how your lips quivered, like you wanted to cry. The redness in your eyes made her frown. “I just— in the moment… I couldn’t breathe. I needed to take it off—“

“How do you know?” You abruptly ask. “How do you know that you’re immune? What if it just… I don’t know… Takes longer to develop in your system?”

“y/n…” She remorsefully spoke. “I was bitten when I was fourteen.” Ellie rolls up the sleeve of her jacket, pushing her tattooed arm toward you.

Pressing your lips together, you walk forward, taking her arm in your hands. Her forearm was covered in evergreen ink. Taking your hand, she guided your fingers over the eruptions in her skin. Abrasions. Hidden beneath the adoration of the tattoo. You never noticed this before. “I had a lot of time to know if this was real…” Ellie muttered, peering at you. Insecurity leaking from her pores.

You met her eyes, opening and closing your lips, trying figure out the words you wanted to say. “Who are you?” You examined the features you’ve come to know. “And don’t walk away this time— you have no choice but to tell me.” A chortle falls from your lips, causing her stiffness in her shoulders to loosen.

And so, Ellie told you as much as she could. She told you about how she got bitten. She told you about Riley. She told you about Joel and Tommy—about the fireflies—and about Joel, again. She told you about Dina and Jesse. And then, she told you about Abby. The familiarity of her name caused you to perk up. You knew of her from the resort; it was her and a little boy. However, the version she told you about aligned nothing with the version that you knew of.

“I went to Santa Barbara because I wanted to put an end to my suffering and Tommy’s— I wanted to kill her.” Ellie confessed, leaning her head back against the books pushed into the shelves. The two of you sat opposite of each other in a book aisle, knees grazing every so often. “I thought that would fix everything… But, when I saw her on that pillar…” She shook her head, running her hand through her hair. “For a second, I wasn’t going to do it. She led me to that beach, holding that kid, and I was gonna leave.”

Ellie blinked, remembering that empty feeling she felt on that day. Guilt crawling through her for something that was never in her control. You watched her speak, intently, with deepened eyebrows. “Then, I remembered. I remembered what she did— what she took from me, and I couldn’t let her go. I threatened that little boy, and I made her fight me. She didn’t want to, but I made her.”

“Did you kill her…?” You asked, slowly.

She chortled, wiping her teary eyes. “No. She took my fucking fingers, and I let her go.” The laugh she released was dry, and without humor. “It was like… Everything that I’ve done, leading up to that day, was all for nothing. All the people that I hurt— that I killed just to get to her… It was all for nothing.” Her voice cracked, tears rolling down her cheeks. Ellie couldn’t stop them this time.

You reached for her knee, caressing your thumb over the fabric of her jeans. She peered up at you, through her thick, wet eyelashes with a sort of surprise. Ellie didn’t think you’d stick around after hearing about her truth. You, a victim of the rattlers, empathizing with a murderer.

Before that, though, you were a firefly. You more than just a victim.

“How could I ever think of you as a bad person after what I’ve done?” She pressed her plump lips into a line, shaking her head. “That wasn’t what I meant at all… I was just trying to figure you out. I worded it all wrong— I’m sorry.” Ellie apologized with such frailty, you had no choice but to accept.

“Don’t be sorry, Ellie…”

“I’m beginning to realize I’m not really good with people.”

You squeeze her knee. “That’s not true. I think we get along great.” You shrug, attempting to lighten up the mood. Her lips curled at the corners, reaching for the hand on her knee, placing hers over yours. A silence bounced between you—eyes boring into each other’s, looking through each other. “I also think… You did what you thought was best…” You voiced, nodding affirmatively. “I probably would’ve, somehow, done worse.”

She scoffed, drawing circles on the back of your hand, absentmindedly. “Worse? You couldn’t have done worse.”

“You’d be surprised.” You lifted your eyebrows. “Not to beat a dead horse or anything, but as a firefly… When you’re told to do something, you do it.” Shrugging, you remove your hand from hers, crossing your arms. “I’m not a saint, Ellie. I’ve done loads of shit that I’m not proud of.” You looked down at your knees, frowning. “If some girl killed someone I cared about right in front of me… It would have been the last thing she ever did. Shit, I’ve killed people for less.”

You paused, eyebrows twitching. The image of a guardian angel came into your mind—Honey. “It should’ve been me in that house… In Santa Barbara.” Squeezing your eyes shut, tears began to fall down your cheeks once more. Angry, mourning tears. “It’s like… The Lord gave me second chance to do better— or was it fate? I don’t fucking know…”

Ellie blinked, having a severe déjà vu moment. Somehow the words spoken in her past, have managed to resurface. If somehow the Lord gave me a second chance at that moment, I would do it all over again. Spoken by your pretty mouth, instead of someone else’s. “I’d probably be just like Honey if it weren’t for you— dead. And I still don’t know what makes me worth saving, but I’m grateful. I’m grateful for you.” You sniffed, lips quivering while looking at the auburn-haired woman.

She swallowed, moving from her spot across from you to sit beside you. If only she had the courage to say those words to Joel. If only her resentment didn’t run so deep—perhaps, her guilt for his death wouldn’t be so strong. “Everything about you is worth saving… You’re like a lucky charm.”

You leaned your head back against the books, looking at her. “A lucky charm, huh?”

“Hell yeah! I mean, you totally whooped that shambler’s ass. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

Hitting her arm, you giggle, keeping your eyes on the bookshelf in front of you. “Seriously, y/n…” Her humored tone faded as she trained her eyes on the side of your face, urging you to just look at her. To meet her eyes as passionately as she wanted to meet yours. It could’ve been the vulnerability that pulsed around the room, but she needed to see you. Her body ached for touch—perhaps, your touch. Ellie needed consolation for her confession.

Finally, your eyes drift toward hers. Not realizing how close her body was to yours. Shoulders, arms, hips, knees touching as if you were conjoined by the hip. Her eyes were prettier close up. They were greener than the evergreen that grew up desolate buildings. The freckles on her damaged skin could be connected like constellations—how come you never noticed this before? You wanted to trace the scar over her top lip and the one in her eyebrow with your finger, not just with your eyes.

The only thing that could be heard was your uneven, nervous breaths. Ellie moved her face closer to yours, just enough to tease, to ask for your permission without using her words. Her olive eyes flickering between your lips and your eyes. Weakly, you nodded, chewing on the corner of your bottom lip.

Her hands settled on your face, pulling you to hers. Meeting her lips with your lips, softly and patiently. Placing your hands on her wrists, you pull away, analyzing her features. Full lips were parted, wantonly. Pushing forward, you resumed the kiss with more intensity.

Whining against her lips, you got onto your knees, kicking your leg over her legs. Settling on her lap, her hands moved to your hips, kneading them. Her lips beginning to trail down your jaw; they were wet and hot kisses, causing your hips to roll on their own. Pleasured sighs fled from your swollen parted lips, holding onto her shoulders. “Ellie— Ellie, are you sure about this?” You question, with your eyes fluttered shut.

Against the sensitive skin of your neck, she spoke. “Beyond sure…” She muttered, littering your neck with love bites. Then, she pauses, pulling back to look up at you. Her hands still on your hips, pulling them to a stop to get your attention. “Are you sure about this?” Her pupils were blown out, adoringly.

You massaged her tense shoulders, licking your lips. The sight of her made your skin warm and tingly. “I’m fucking sure.” You smiled, playing with ends of her auburn strands. Leaning down, you pressed your lips against hers again, with fervor.

The both of you needed this—human connection. Even if it was short-lived, or temporary.

Ellie pushed at the flannel over your arms, tossing it to the side. Then, it was your knit shirt. She rolled it up from your abdomen, you lift your arms so she could remove it. Lastly, was your sports bra. She pulled it over your head, eyes marveling at the sight before her. Her calloused hands ran down the bare sides of your back, lips trailing down your sternum.

Running your hands over her hair, she latched her lips around one of your nipples. Sucking and nibbling at the sensitive nerves. A moan escapes your throat, arching your back into her. Your hips buck on top of her lap, begging for her touch elsewhere. “My lucky charm…” She mutters against your skin, kneading your other breast.

You end up with your back on the hard floor of the bookstore. Your hands pulling off her clothes like your life depended on it. She pulled your pants off, leaving you both only in your underwear.

Ellie kissed you, again, pressing her chest against yours. Her knee slotted between your legs, pushing her thigh against your clothed core. You could feel her grinding against your propped up leg, moaning into your mouth. Calloused hand gripping the back of your thigh. Sloppily, your lips trail to the side of her face, airy moans releasing beside her ear. “Ellie, please, touch me…” Wantonly, you pleaded, clenching the roots of her hair.

With her hot lips against your jaw, nibbling at your ear, she obliged. Drifting her hand down the center of your bodies, rubbing you over your underwear. Propping herself up on her other arm, she peered down at you. A pout resting on your wet lips, narrowing your eyes at her. One-handed, she slides your underwear to the side, running her middle finger up your center. Spreading your slick over that sensitive bud awaiting her focus. Ellie chews on her bottom lip, watching you shudder under her touch. “Right there?”

You respond with the tremble of your thighs and the heaving of your chest. She cracked a charming smile, eyes hazing at the sight of you.

Slipping two fingers into your cunt, she moans with you, curling her fingers slowly. Your hands roam her toned stomach, squeezing at her breasts, but you were losing focus. “S— So fucking good— ah!” Pulling her fingers out of you, she lowered herself. Kissing the scars and bruises that littered your abdomen. Her movements briefly confused you, until you felt her mouth on the inner parts of your thighs.

She pulled your underwear down your legs, tossing them aside. Then, she was on you, mouth hot over your cunt. Suckling on your clit, thrusting her tongue into you—eating you like she was starving. Your mouth fell ajar, grasping at her hair for something to hold onto. “Fuck, Ellie!” You whine, bucking your hips toward her face.

Her olive irises looked up at you between your legs, glimmering with lust. Arching your back, feeling that tightness coiling under your muscles, a lewd sound comes from your throat. Something between a moan and a yelp.

Sooner than later, your release comes crashing over you. Like a breath of fresh air. Legs clamping around her head, pushing her closer to your heat. Her lips making out with your pussy, bringing you down from your high. “Oh, my God…” You mutter, massaging her scalp with your fingers.

She crawls up your body like a lustrous lioness, letting your taste yourself on her lips. Your hands gripped at the fat of her ass, biting her bottom lip with your teeth. Ellie gasped, angling your face with her hand, groaning against your lips.

Sliding your index finger under the hem of her boxer-short underwear, you yank them down. “Damn…” Ellie mutters, kicking off her underwear the rest of the way. “You’re quick.” She chuckles, as you flip her onto her back. Running your lips down her neck, biting her skin.

“I want you… Can you blame me?”

You gripped at her hips, but when she winced you stopped. Peering down at her hip bone, a stitching remained there. Red and a little irritated. “It’s fine. Keep goin’, please.” Ellie tried, reaching for your hand.

Lowering your body, you kissed around the irritated wound, gently. Ellie watched you, chewing on her lip. Holding onto her hand, you kissed lower and lower. Through the hairs over her mound, the inner parts of her thigh—lightly over her cunt. She twitched, bashfully trying to shut her legs. But your hands braced her thighs.

Breathing her in, you licked a line up her center, making eye contact with her. An airy sound left her parted lips, free hand tweaking her nipples. “Yeah… Yeah…” She chanted, rocking herself against your face. You lick at her clit before sucking it into your mouth, her hips jolting at the feeling. Fluttering your eyes shut, you spend time on her sensitive bud, messily. Your non-dominant hand still holding onto Ellie’s, her grip tightening every second.

Taking your other hand, you insert your middle and ring finger into her core. Looking up at her reaction, while you made love to her clit. “Fuck, yes!” She enunciated her words lustily, drawing them out. Popping her bud from your lips, you begin to curl your fingers. Her wanton moans bouncing off the bookshelves around you.

“You’re so pretty like this.” You whisper, mainly to yourself, as you gaze at her in awe. Ellie was always so rough around the edges, but under you she was different. Her scarred body shook under you, in pleasure. She was in her element.

She moaned your name, riding your fingers. The muscles in her abdomen clenching, the grip on your hand getting harder. Taking that as your cue, you began to make out with her pussy. Only bringing her closer and closer to that breaking coil.

When the sparks in her stomach bursted into flames, a string of curse words fell from her lips. Her back arching off the hardwood floor, fingers pinching her tits. Her slick was all over your mouth, as you crawled back up her body.

Hungrily, she found your lips. Pushing your bare bodies together, you lazily made out—winding yourselves down.

Orange hues of the sun setting peaked through the windows, and the empty parts of the shelves. A burnt orange cast, glazing over your bodies like a blanket. Your legs intertwined, arms draped over shoulders, wrapped around waists; you were comfortable like this. Ellie was comfortable like this.

Parting your lips, she peppered small kisses along your jaw, before laying her head on your chest. “There’s a couch upstairs…” You breathe, playing in her hair.

“You say this now…?” She looked up at you, fingers rubbing circles on your bare hips.

A chuckle fell from your lips, your thumb caressing her flushed cheeks. “Heat of the moment!”

She sucked her teeth, nuzzling her head into your neck. “Whatever, you filthy woman.”

“Hey! You’re the one who took my clothes off.”

“You let me take your clothes off.” She nibbled at the skin of your throat, squeezing the fat of your hip.

You pressed your lips together, amused, running your fingers down her freckled back. “We could go up to the couch now.” You offered.

Ellie shook her head, hooking her leg around yours to pull herself closer to you. “No, just wanna lay here for a while…”

And you did just that. Laid with each other until your backs ached enough to move to the couch upstairs. Only to resume the position on the itchy cushions until the sun came back around to drag you both back onto the road.

#🪅#millersfinest #ellie tlou #ellie williams #lesbian #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams fluff #mini series

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catsharky · 9 hours ago

Note

Are we still gonna get more of the Rolan comic?

I've gotten a couple of asks about this, so sorry to the other people who asked previously and didn't get a reply!

There is absolutely going to be more! The rest of the Rolan comic is completely written and partly roughed out, and I do intend to see it through to the end. Unfortunately this has been a pretty accurate depiction of how 2024 has been treating me:

It's been Flat Stanley-ing my ass.

I will get back to it, it's just been a case where something had to give and unfortunately my comics wound up being the thing I had to put on the backburner 😭

If anyone is curious, I rambled about what's been up under the cut:

The long and short of it is that early this year my partner and I very suddenly and stressfully went from being part-time to full-time parents, in a house that is not big enough to have a family of 4 living in it full time. We also gained 2 additional pets at the same time, bringing us up to a total of 4 (2 cats, 1 snake and 1 hamster).

While that would make it cramped enough, my partner and I have lost a combined total of 5 family members in the past 3 years, and ignoring the emotional toll, we wound up being responsible for the belongings of three of them. Every time we manage to get our house a little bit cleared out, another person dies and we have to find room for another house's worth of stuff!!!

So I have been hanging on to my sanity by a thread cause it's hard to concentrate on comics when I am stuck working in a room where Fortnite or Minecraft youtubers or worse are all but constantly playing in the background.

On top of all that, all of the windows in our house had to be replaced because they hadn't been updated or well maintained since the place was built and the frames were rotting and growing mold. So we got to spend a couple of months trying to tetris our house into a state where the window company could have room to work last week.

And if that wasn't all enough, my little old man of a cat (who is my baby and largely my responsibility) developed keratitis- which despite all efforts continued to worsen over the last several months-, was diagnosed with diabetes, and finally had to have his eye removed this week. I've discovered new stress responses I didn't even know I had thanks to that, and I've been sick with a hellcold during both this and the window replacement 🙃

I've also been unemployed since December, which is both a blessing and a curse because on one hand I think I probably would have had an actual mental breakdown by now if I'd had to deal with all this while working full time, but on the other hand we can't move until I have a job again ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

So basically this year has been very AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA and I would really love it if whoever is controlling the game of the sims I'm living in would stop putting me in the torment nexus right about now, please and thank you.

Joke's on them though because I'm both a creature of spite and incapable of giving up, so in the words of Disco Elysium, 'Life gets hard but we go on' and we do!!! 😤

#anon ask #sharky speaks #sharky art #<technically. I think.

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aro-culture-is · 2 days ago

Note

Aro culture is when your best friend has been in love with you for YEARS and you've always know, you had just tried to ignore it hoping it would pass, cause you know that they will never confess, and that if you ever tried to bring it up you would have 100% ruined one of the most beautiful friendships you have ever had. It's even funnier (/j) when your ENTIRE friendgroup knows about it—and I mean every single one of them—and they all think you're just a clueless dumbass who can't take a hint when you've actually been dodging said hints like a pro. You feel estranged from your group because you know that they talk about you behind your back, hoping on the downfall on every single one of your relationship (you have proof of said conversations)(you're cupioromantic and desperately want a relationship) (all your friends know you're on the aro spectrum, but they still think that if they press you hard enough you will begin to like your best friend as well, even if you know that you feel no attraction for them whatsoever)

I'm so sorry if this is too much, it's the first time I talk about this to anyone and I felt the need to write everything down. Thank you for this blog, it made me feel better

oh, that sort of situation sounds incredibly confusing and upsetting. i hope your friends treat you better and your identity as valid, or that you find the strength, courage, and opportunity to find a new friend group who treats you with more respect.

#aro culture is #aro #aromantic #actually aro #actually aromantic #ask #mod rust #vent submission

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obitez · 2 days ago

Text

Three Words

Another Buck/Tommy fic! (Not a Bean one though, one will be out soon 😉)

Summary: Tommy has been waiting months to hear Buck say those three words. (I love you)

~~~~~~~~~~~~

When they first started dating, Tommy told Buck that they could take their relationship at whatever pace he wanted.

And he meant that wholeheartedly.

Sure, things got a little rocky after that first date, but they got through it. It was all cleared up by the second.

They were going strong. Their relationship was going strong. Their relationship was going places Tommy had never thought it would go.

Further than Tommy thought his pathetic love life would go with anyone.

After their second date (if you could call it that), at the coffee shop, they sort of came to an unspoken agreement that they would go at Buck’s pace. Tommy just hadn’t expected that to mean they would be fucking each other in bed less than 24 hours later and Buck would be dragging Tommy around Maddie and Chimney’s wedding. (No one had told him that Buck’s sister was engaged to Chimney!)

Both Eddie and Bobby had told him that Buck liked to do things fast, he didn’t really understand how fast they meant at the time, but he had no problem with it.

Later, Hen and Karen might have threatened him a little at the medal ceremony, but backed off when Tommy told them he was going at Buck’s pace.

So for the next six months, that was what Tommy did, go at Buck’s pace. When Buck wanted to introduce Tommy to his parents, he went ahead with him.

When Buck gave Tommy a key to his loft, Tommy gave Buck a key to his house.

When Buck asked if Tommy minded if Jee joined them on their hike up a mountain because both her parents were called into a shift at the last minute, Tommy carried her on his shoulders the entire way.

When Buck hinted at wanting to move in together, Tommy was quick to tell him that he would start moving the furniture in his house for when Buck was ready.

Tommy was fine with going at Buck’s pace. Really, he was.

There was just one thing though.

In the last six months, he had fallen hard for Buck, and he meant hard.

He didn’t think that any of his past relationships have even gotten close to how he felt for Buck now.

He loved Evan Buckley, from his little birthmark on his adorable face, to his marvelous body, to his penchant for research binges, to his laugh, to his cooking skills, to his everflowing loving heart for everyone around him.

He loved Evan Buckley, now he just needed to figure out how and when to tell him.

He thought about how and when to do it for so long, Tommy started questioning himself.

What would Buck do if Tommy said it?

Tommy had told Buck he would go at Buck’s speed? What if this was too fast for him? This would bring a new stage to their relationship. What if Buck wasn’t ready for this? Should he just wait until Buck was ready? Until Buck said those three words first?

He eventually over-thought it as he did a lot of things like this, over-thinking it enough, they reached and passed their six month anniversary.

🔶 🔶 🔶 🔶 🔶

The ending credits of Jurassic Park scrolled past on the screen, Tommy looked down at Buck’s head resting on his chest. The man was passed out and spread across him. He swore that would be the last time he let Buck pick a movie out, he always fell asleep halfway through them. Tommy always told himself that everytime this happened, but he always let Buck pick out the next movie anyway.

Tommy smiled and continued slowly rubbing the hand that he had on Buck’s back. He blinked and then looked at the clock across the room. It was late, neither of them had work the next morning, but they still had plans. He needed to get to sleep soon. The remote to turn the TV off was in reach, but the lightswitch to turn off the overhead lights?

In instances like these, Tommy really wished he had Buck’s ability to fall asleep no matter the lighting conditions. It was too bright for him right now. But at the same time, Tommy knew his boyfriend was a light sleeper. If he got up now to walk the three feet to the lightswitch on the wall, Buck would wake up and it would be at least an hour of activities before either of them went to sleep again.

Maybe he shouldn’t listen to Eddie and just bite the bullet and buy a Hildy. Those things can’t be that bad. He’d be able to ring it up to turn off the lights without getting out of bed.

Tommy carefully got out of bed, moving the pillows around to disturb Buck as little as possible.

He wasn’t successful.

“Tommy?” Buck’s sleep filled voice asked as Tommy flipped the lightswitch to send the room into darkness.

“Shh,” Tommy hushed. “Just turning off the lights, go back to sleep.”

“Hmm,” Buck hummed unhappily as Tommy returned to bed, getting under the covers as pulling Buck back to where he was sleeping on his chest.

It was quiet for a couple moments, Tommy was just about to fall asleep into deep oblivion when he heard Buck speak.

“I love you,” Buck mumbled into Tommy’s ear. Hearing those words, Tommy tensed and turned his head to look into Buck’s eyes. He couldn’t exactly see them right now, it was too dark, but he could feel the stare.

Those weren’t words Buck mumbled half asleep or only half paying attention. He meant those words.

He loved Tommy.

“Oh, thank God,” Tommy mumbled as he angled his neck and kissed Buck on the top of his head.

Buck hummed in slight confusion and he went up onto an elbow and looked down at Tommy, silently asking for an explanation of what Tommy meant by that comment.

“I’ve been waiting weeks for you to say that,” Tommy said as he sat up and quickly moved around Buck, pinning him onto the bed lying on his back.

“Oh?” Buck hummed, taunting him.

It seemed Buck would be getting exactly what he wanted that night.

Tommy leant down. “I love you too,” he mumbled into Buck’s ear before he pulled him into a deep kiss.

#bucktommy #bucktommy fic #911 abc #ao3

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kpoptrashlord-007 · 1 day ago

Text

Sir;; CYJ

Word Count;; 2.7k

Genre;; Smut, E2Ls

Pairing;; Yeonjun x Fem!Reader

Summary;;

You’re at your wits end when it comes to your boss’s spoiled son. Beyond the point of formalities and long past niceties, it’s high time the tension between the two of you finds some form of release.

Request;;

@light164star asked: hard!dom yeonjun is very much welcome…

Warnings;;

Smut, Enemies to Enemies That Fuck, Reader is a higher-up in the company but Yeonjun is the CEO's son, exhibitionism but lowkey, office sex, kinda hate sex? kinda rough, brat taming?, Reader thinks she's a dom but…, Dom!Yeonjun, biting and clawing, ass slapping, pussy slapping, face slapping (jk), vaginal fingering, mild humiliation, orgasm denial. There are no safe words or the likes – it’s fiction lol.

Notes;;

Writing Yeonjun brings out the worst in me :) yet somehow I still wasn’t able to summon forth a really hard dom. I just don’t have it in me I guess. Coming back to edit this several months later and I gotta say, I love this Reader!

Main Masterlist

“I bet you like that.”

Gaze darting to Yeonjun and his overconfident smirk, your lips press into a firm line. He’s made a habit of getting on your nerves as of late, knowing full well you can't retaliate without repercussions. His status affords him unwarranted respect, allowing him to run rampant in your life. Day in and day out, he's a menace. It takes all your willpower not to give him a piece of your mind right here and now but instead you fix your posture. Sitting a little taller, you clear your throat. Everyone’s eyes are on you. You can’t let him get under your skin.

“As I was saying, they’re slamming us with these accusations. Our reputation can’t handle it. Any suggestions?”

Silence.

“Not a single idea? I didn’t realise we were paying you to be slack-jawed buffoons,” you seethe, slamming your presentation binder shut.

“W-well, maybe we could release a different scandal as a distraction?”

You roll your eyes. “Anyone else?”

"Why not throw some money at them until they shut up?"

“Or run a smear campaign on them."

"Boooring," Yeonjun sighs, spinning in his chair. "Might as well tell my father to declare bankruptcy at this rate."

"Well, please enlighten us since you're obviously teeming with ideas."

"Sure, but you're not going to like it."

"What a surprise." You tap your pen against the table. "Spit it out."

"For years now their CEO has been eye-fucking you. I say we wrap you in a little bow and–"

“Why are you even here?” Scathing hot words match the intense heat spreading across your nape like wildfire. “Can't you laze about somewhere else? This is a meeting for professionals, not kids playing adult.”

If a pin dropped, you'd hear it. No one dares breathe. There's a tumultuous air between you and Yeonjun, and your subordinates are stuck in the middle. Examining the presentation notes with newfound interest, not a single one of them has the balls to meet your eyes.

Aside from Yeonjun, of course. He can't seem to look away. His lips curl up into a devilish smile as he leans forward, the table squeaking as he rests his elbows upon it. With a quirk of the brow, he tilts his head and chuckles. A part of you relishes in his reaction, eager to push his buttons at any given opportunity.

"Everyone, out. I expect a full report as well as viable solutions before the day's end," you say, the finality in your tone biting.

The room can't empty fast enough. Papers jostle and sing as they're shoved into briefcases. Chairs groan in relief with every new departure. Within seconds you're alone with your boss's son, the bane of your existence. You wait with an impatient frown for him to follow the crowd.

His dark eyes bore into you. Like a beast on the prowl, he doesn't let you out of his sight as he closes the door. A gentle breeze squeezes through before metal seals against metal. It's much colder without the extra bodies inside. You shudder.

"Do you need something, Yeonjun?"

"Isn't that"—the door locks with a loud clack—"Mr. Choi to you?"

"I don't respect positions given through nepotism."

Even louder than the lock is the thud of his shoes as he approaches you. Shoving a chair out of his way, he navigates the mess left behind from the meeting with ease. Paper crumples underfoot but he doesn't pause. There's a storm brewing; it flashes through the cracks of his smooth exterior.

Once he stands between you and the desk, going so far as pushing your chair back with his heel, he pulls out his phone. The glass walls tint. While you can look out, the rest of the workplace can no longer see in. Just swell. You huff, crossing your arms while you wait for him to rant and whine then finally leave.

"Shouldn't you call me… sir?"

"Shouldn't you, I don't know, earn that right?"

He scoffs. "I do plenty around here."

"Plenty of nothing is still nothing. Unless you have something important to say, make yourself scarce. Some of us actually have to work."

It strikes a nerve and God does it feel good. His nostrils flare as he nods, forcing a smile onto his much too pretty face. You return it, though you imagine it is more akin to a smirk. Which would explain why the veins in his neck are bulging. Indulging in the moment, you watch his Adam's apple bob up and down in an angry little dance.

"I'm not leaving until you call me 'Sir'."

Pulled from your entertaining reverie, you’re face-to-face with his overwhelming audacity.

"Then I'll leave," you snap, his persistence eating away at your patience. The back of your chair slams against the wall. Standing much too quickly, you break into his space with a well-placed leg lodged between his spread thighs, "because I'll never call you 'sir'."

His legs close around you. Unable to flee, you’re stuck within his intoxicating close proximity. The ticking of the clock subsides and all that remains is the thrum of your racing heart. You gulp down your anxiety before straightening your shoulders in an act of composure. His hands trace up the length of your arms, leaving electricity in their wake. When his tongue peeks out from between gleaming teeth, your resolve weakens.

Yeonjun is going to be the death of you.

"That sounds like a challenge," he coos. Trapping your jaw in a tight grip, his fingers burn hotter than the flood of warmth rolling through your system. His lips brush against yours as he leans forward. The delectable scent of his cologne clouds your senses. It's dizzying. "Should we bet on it?"

It would be easy to push him away, perhaps even slap him (once for his arrogance then again for good measure), and yet…

"If I win you have to be a good little boy and” —his eyes narrow— "do your job from now on."

"And when I win you will call me Sir in <i>and</i> out of the bedroom."

Scoffing, your tone drips with incredulity, "When you win–"

The words are smothered by the press of his lips against yours. Your mind races as he unzips your skirt but when it drops past your thighs he abandons it, focusing his attention elsewhere and leaving you to wrestle the tight fabric the rest of the way. His fingers entangle in your hair as you shimmy your legs and kick the skirt onto the floor. Nails scrape along your scalp, a biting sting left behind as he yanks your head back. You whimper from the roughness of his touch, ravenous and angry, and he takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss. His tongue tastes like apple as it toys with yours.

Eyes squeezed shut, the first smack comes out of nowhere. Tantalising pain blossoms across your arse. The second earns a soft yelp. He swallows the sound. You were unaware of how tight his hold on your hair was until it’s gone, leaving a lingering ache in its place. Tracing the curve of your cheek, he wipes away the tears before they spill. It’s tender, much more gentle than you thought him capable of, but it doesn’t last. Another strike against your raw flesh leaves you trembling. Clinging to his shirt, your hands ball up in fists as he massages your skin.

You break the kiss to glare at him. A coy smirk twists his lips and desire blazes in his eyes. He possesses an intensity you’ve never known. It’s all-consuming. Unable to hold his stare, you look toward the door. Still locked. Biting your bottom lip, you watch as members of your team walk past, oblivious to the sin taking place just beyond the darkened glass.

Yet you can’t shake the thought of being caught,

can’t escape how it ignites a fire in your core,

can’t stop your cunt from clenching in anticipation.

“Anything you want to say?”

“Yes, actually,” you say with a chuckle, ignoring logic in pursuit of pleasure. Overheated, your mind is an incoherent jumble. You know you should end this before it devolves into something you can’t stop but there’s a carnal urge within you. Desperate to be stung, you kick the hornet’s nest. “You’re as inadequate as a lover as you are an employee.”

Tilting your chin back toward him, he groans when you refuse to look him in the eye. “God, I’m going to ruin you.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

There’s no real bite behind your words. They’re hollow just like your promise to remain professional around your boss’s fucking son. How much of a horny idiot does one have to be to get involved with Yeonjun of all people? A fresh wave of embarrassment explodes throughout your body. This is career suicide, so why are you guiding his hand under your skirt while your tongue grazes his jaw?

“I knew you were a freak,” he purrs into your ear, the baritone of his voice eliciting a shudder.

“Luckily for me, so are you.”

With little grace he flips you around and pushes you down on the table. It shakes and creaks as he follows close behind, lowering himself until your bodies meet. Lifting your leg onto his back, his hips thrust against yours. The friction is electrifying. Though the sensation is minimal, it is just enough to leave you wanting.

Animalistic, you claw at his shirt. Buttons fly free before hitting the table with sharp taps. His shirt opens to reveal a toned chest. His expression morphs into that of a smirk, confidence oozing from his sparkling eyes. It’s enough to halt your admiration – you don’t intend to boost his overinflated ego. With a glower you run your nails down his torso. Red streaks decorate his skin.

“At this rate you'll be calling me ‘sir’,” you sigh, feigning disinterest. It’s all in vain as your body follows in tandem to the slow grind of his hips.

“What a wild imagination you have.”

Gripping both of your wrists within one large hand, he pins your arms above your head. He doesn’t hold back. His lips latch onto your neck and he sucks on the skin until you whine. Tantalising and deliberate, he grinds against your cunt one last time before rising to his knees. Your body instinctively lifts, eager to bask in his warmth longer, and you have to dip your head away to hide your shame.

“Keep your eyes on me.”

There’s a sternness in his tone that has you faltering. Hesitantly you turn back to him for a mere second before giving up, choosing to watch how the office is carrying on without you. A mistake, you realise too late, as Yeonjun slaps your pussy. Fire blossoms in your gut. You clench around nothing, your toes curling. He slaps the sensitive area again and you squirm in his grasp, an indignant mewl passing through your parted lips.

“Look at me.”

Your gaze snaps to him. Magnetised, you can’t look away. Once more he slaps your cunt, mouthing something about you being a bad girl. The pain is delicious – shocking and intense. It sets your nerves ablaze. Back rising off the table, you arch toward him. The contact you expect doesn’t come; instead you’re greeted with the harsh nipping of his teeth. He clamps down on your breast, biting hard to combat how your bra shields you. Never one to make things easy, you fall away from him. Your breast slides free of his mouth without much fight but the clothing is another story.

As you drop there’s a snap. Like a small whip, one of your bra straps licks your back in an angry assault. You wince as it lashes your bare skin. After taking a moment to catch your breath and clear your mind, you allow your teary eyes to reopen. His chest heaves as he snickers around your clothing. He doesn’t let go, tugging on your shirt until it stretches.

“Bastard!” you growl, baring your teeth.

Spitting the fabric out, he releases your wrists and licks his lips. “Hush now. I’ll buy my little honey a new one. Would you like that?”

“You’re damn right you will!”

His nails tickle your stomach, trailing up your chest to toy with the collar of your shirt. The material constricts around you as he lifts you with one hand. All teeth and tongue, he kisses you, stealing your breath until you manage to break away. Head lolling to the side, you transfer your whole weight into his hold, ignoring how your shirt digs into your back.

He tuts. “Where are your manners?”

When he lets go, the table wobbles as your body slams down upon it. Pens clatter to the floor. Your pained irritation warps into a wide-eyed shock when he drags his fingers up your thigh before pushing your panties aside. Two fingers slip into your soaked cunt. Gasping loud enough to be heard by anyone outside the door, panic chokes you. When you glance out and see no one nearby, the churning within your gut slows. Your heart stammers in your chest. This isn't like you. What the hell are you doing?

Unceremoniously fast and rough, he pumps his fingers in and out of your wet pussy. Squelching reaches your ears. Red hot embarrassment has you whimpering beneath him. He smirks against your skin, breath warm against your collarbone. He massages your clit with his thumb and you can’t stop your body from reacting. Lightning quick you clamp a hand over your mouth to silence your strangled moan before you alert the whole office to his lewd actions.

“My pretty little slut is making a mess all over my fingers,” he taunts, using said fingers to scissor you open. “You’re going to drip onto the table at this rate.”

"Sh-shut up," you pant.

"Still so rude. Shall I stop?"

When he pauses, you whine. It’s not your proudest moment but you yearn for him. Your body craves his touch, your mind desires his taunts. Clenching around his fingers, your pussy begs for him, something the rational part of your mind still refuses to do. It’s only a matter of time before you break, however. Thoughts of his cock driving deep and fast into your needy cunt squashes the remainder of your willpower.

“If you want something, use those pretty little lips and beg for it.”

You glare at him out of pride but comply nonetheless. “Please.”

“Maybe,” he hums, pumping his fingers twice before pulling out completely, “you should try harder.”

You’re empty without his touch. It’s shameful how quick you fell to him, how easily you crumbled to his whims. You could end it all here and now–tell him to get to work and walk out–but that’d be like quitting. Even losing is better than quitting, at least that’s what you tell yourself as you grab his belt buckle. Within seconds it’s on the floor. It isn’t until you’re yanking his pants down that he halts your actions.

Always so condescending, he chides you. “Not so fast, princess. You haven’t earned it.”

Lips forming a small pout, you huff. A lazy smirk crosses his features and he coos, tapping your nose. Every inch of your being burns with indignation. You should leave, you know you should, but there’s a part of you that’s loving it. Loving how he belittles you, loving how he takes control. There’s no denying how wet you are from the mere notion of submitting. Abandoning the last of your sensibility you relent.

“Please, sir,” you whimper, the words foreign on a tongue so used to taking charge, “I need your cock. No… no one else will do, I need you.”

He sighs, the sound mocking everything you’ve ever stood for, and cradles your face. The triumphant grin adorning his near-perfect face only serves to wound your pride further. There’s a sparkle in his eyes that spells trouble. Gloating, he leans down to your level, his mere presence warming your skin in anticipation.

“Then get on your knees and work for it.”

– ♡ – If you enjoyed this, please consider liking, commenting, reblogging, and/or following! Thank you!

#yeonjun x reader #txt x reader #kpop x reader #yeonjun smut #txt smut #kpop smut #txt hard hours #txt fanfic #kpop fanfic #female reader #kpop oneshots #txt oneshots #hard hours #kpoptrashlord-007

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diamondwerewolf · 2 days ago

Text

A Quick Chat About AZ

Which won't be quick at all.

I've talked for a little about coming to understand Lysandre, and now I'd like to talk about AZ, who is still somewhat of a mystery to me. We know of his backstory, but what I'm missing is what defines his personality. We don't speak with him enough in game to know it, so I had to do some digging around so I can form some assumptions. Most of this post will be me using Canon and Non-Canon [But still official] sources to get a grasp on what kind of man AZ is, just in case we don't get more information about him in Legends ZA.

-I want to know what he's like, because I want to make more artwork with him. ^^'-

Before I get into what I've found, I want to first talk about a character who I think is clearly defined, by his sheer simplicity. That's right,

It's Larry.

Larry, for example, has very clear likes and dislikes. He's an overworked, professional, brooding, middle aged man, who has respect for rules and simplicity. He dresses plainly, and uses relatively ordinary or normal type pokemon. He's vocal and assertive of his preferred lifestyle, to the point of stubbornness [ of which is only thwarted by his desire for his paycheck]. He also loves food and the pursuit of an extraordinary meal. Despite his introvert-like demeanor, he's shown to be friendly, deeply contemplative, and hiding a quirky, dad joke-like sense of humor.

With all of this, I can extrapolate what kind of decisions Larry would make if I were to put him in a new non-canonical situation. And, I can also define where I'd like to bend or add on to his personality in my own form of fandom play.

Now, back to the main topic. All of this to digest with a grain of salt. I also apologize in advance if I hop around a little between sources.

AZ, I can only assume is underutilized because of his grand age. 3,000 years old, means 3,000 years of knowledge or a direct eye witness of history. He wondered in search of his best friend, gradually witnessing the world transition from ancient to modern. Chances are, he can answer regional mysteries that gamefreak wouldn't want to touch upon. So, he's here one moment, and then gone the next after serving his key purpose in the game narrative.

Which brings me to all of the other official items I looked into and some thoughts on his intelligence. I watched his appearance in the Pokemon Generations Episode 18: The Redemption. [ no one asked but i think i prefer the japanese voice much more ] And I also was given a data bank to look through Pokemon XY game script.

AZ build the ultimate weapon. Though, if he had any assistance with it, it's unspecified. IF I RECALL CORRECTLY, in the recent XY development leaks, Sycamore, Lysandre, and AZ were all the same character, before the role was properly divided into three. Still, I'm under the impression, that AZ wasn't just a king, but a well respected researcher.

There’s research material on the bookshelf [In Lysandre Labs] “The king was proud of the technology he had used to bring Kalos prosperity, but he couldn’t help but use it in a way that had never been intended... AZ, the man who was king, disappeared.”

I think, AZ being keenly intelligent, is an easy assertion to make. He could build and operate complicated machinery, and probably still can. There are even more side notes I can make about his more complex understanding of pokemon. I don't think I have the clarity of mind to pull out even more examples, so I'll use just this one:

AZ does have a Golurk of unspecified age on his small team. I wonder...is it possible he built his Golurk himself? There are many pokadex entries stating the creation of, and ancient use of pokemon in these old cities. AZ appears to understand the infinite energy that dwells within pokemon well enough to contribute to the society he ruled over. I don't think 'artificial' pokemon construction is beyond his understanding, if he knew well enough that he could bring one back to life.

---

Moving along.

After building the weapon to revive his friend:

"...his rage still had not subsided."

I absolutely love this flashback sequence. I love how they portrayed the rawness of AZ's emotions. The unnerving look in his eye as his horrific choice forms. You get the sense that he truly did just...snap.

Which Makes Me Wonder: How tethered is AZ to his emotions? Is he like Lysandre, who appears to allow himself to freely feel his own anger and frustration, letting it drive him to obssession. Does he have a slight sense of entitlement, too? Entitled to take the world's problems and other lives in his hands. If so, did he leave that wicked part of himself behind?

AZ is royalty. He's a former -literal- king during a time of war, unlike Lysandre who's a more metaphorical king during a time of general peace. That may be an excuse for him easily taking on, beyond important, harrowing decisions. I wonder if this was the most difficult point in his reign. That aside, AZ doesn't seem to be concerned with that title living in modern day.

He doesn't demand that he should be treated like his former title. I'm going to make another assumption that he has let that go a long time ago. He struggles with being forgiven, maybe even struggles with caring about himself. He's traded his old royal regalia, a robe, golden arm cuffs, and golden neck piece, for old, worn, patchy clothes. He doesn't care about his royalty, or his clothes, and AZ never makes any mention that I can remember about his own height.

None of it appears to matter to him. Only "where is she?"

---

Speaking of.

AZ's ability to hold on to hope is...something.

When yeh know for certain sure yeh ain’t never gonna meet again... Well, yeh can give in and accept it. But if yeh think there might be a chance, and yeh wander the world for 3,000 years tortured by that flicker of hope... I tell yeh, sprout. I couldn’t have stood it.

I don't think I could have stood it either. To not give up on his Floette for 3,000 years, to muscle through that torture until finally you meet again. What would you call the kind of 'grit' that would make you endure something like this? In the XY manga, he's plagued by nightmares of his past. He described his ordeal officially in the game as 'endless suffering'. Is it a certain kind of stubbornness? A kind of unconditional love? I'm not sure... AZ, in another one of my opinions, has got to be one of the series' most strong willed characters. You can't survive 3,000 years with weak resolve. He can't die of old age, but..well...

...

Despite the horrors he's capable of, he's got a gentle quality to him. I like the contrast, between a giant and a pokemon so delicate and tiny. I'm sure the juxtaposition of AZ and his Floette is purposeful, and in itself helps inform of his character.

This is from the Pokemon Adventure XY Manga, and isn't canonical, but...look at him. I found him greeting Trevor's Flabebe so sweet. He's respectful to the children also, and doesn't belittle them in the slightest.

His smile. He calls her beautiful, and she is! He has some stony expressions, but also some very softened ones in Anime, Game, and Manga. He hasn't lost his ability to smile after all this time. Which is nice...

OOF, I've been writing this for a long while, so I'll wrap things up. I can't trust myself to write a comprehensive summary, like Larry, at this time, but I hope to have one later. Again, I'm hoping Legends ZA will provide more before I start my true 'blorbo madness'.

Here are all of my assumptions in a list AZ is:

Extraordinarily Intelligent, capable of making and operating dangerous technology. I believe he wasn't just a King, but a contributing engineer/ researcher.

Deeply emotional, allowing himself to openly cry, feel anger, and sorrow. Despite his intelligence, his emotions can cloud his judgement. THOUGH, he may have much more emotional maturity now. [ i find it interesting both he and lysandre are allowed to shed tears ]

Strong of will, or is a person of unwavering conviction.

Stern, somewhat of a languisher, but gentle.

That's all I have for now. Let me know if anyone else has thoughts!

#pokemon XY #pokemon AZ #long post

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cupidhoons · 10 hours ago

Text

🛋️ SAY IT — PSH

in which . . . communication comes into play when in need — psh x f! reader ୨୧ est relationship! au wc tba ・ w kissing, light angst, sunghoon is bad at saying his feelings, lowk projected on sunghoon lmao + likes n' feedback are greatly appreciated !

A/N 💌 i know this is my 3rd sunghoon work on this account but idc!! sunghoon is my man 😂😂😂😂😛😛😛🔥🔥🔥 cupidhoons nation is so back....i Fink....also thank you for all the love on my jake work!! luv u all :)

"IF YOU LOVE ME, BABY, LET ME HEAR YOU SAY IT."

The words escape your lips before you can stop them, and for a moment, you want to reach out, to catch them in the air, to take them back. But it’s too late now. They hang between you and Sunghoon in the dimly lit living room, where the shadows deepen the silence around you.

The night feels quiet, too quiet, as if it’s holding its breath with you. Outside, a car hums softly in the distance, and the faint scent of rain lingers in the air from a quick drizzle earlier in the evening. Everything feels heavy—especially the silence between you and him.

Sunghoon shifts on the other side of the couch, his posture stiff as he looks away from you. You can’t read his expression from here, but his hands fidget with the cuff of his sweater. He’s always been composed, cool, almost unbothered. But now, you catch the briefest hint of vulnerability breaking through.

You hug your knees to your chest, wishing you hadn’t said anything, wishing the words hadn’t escaped so easily. But it’s been building up for a while now. Each little unspoken moment, every lingering look, all the times he showed up when you needed him without you even asking. It’s like he’s always there—but you’ve never heard him say it, never heard the words that would solidify what you’ve both been dancing around.

“Maybe that was too much,” you murmur, trying to ease the tension, though your heart sinks a little at the admission. “I know you’re not the most… vocal.”

He glances at you, his jaw tight, and you wonder if he’s angry or frustrated or maybe just as unsure as you are. It’s so rare to see him falter that it almost makes you feel worse. His confidence, the easygoing nature he wears like armor, seems to crumble, just a bit.

“It’s not too much,” he says finally, voice low but steady. “It’s just… new.”

He looks down at his hands, his fingers still pulling at the edges of his sleeve. You watch the small movement, that simple fidget, and it feels like you’re seeing a version of Sunghoon he doesn’t often show. Your heart aches, but there’s a warmth there too, a small reassurance that maybe this means something to him too.

“New doesn’t mean bad,” you whisper, taking a chance as you edge a little closer to him on the couch. “We’ve been… whatever this is, for a while now. I just thought…” You trail off, not quite able to finish the thought, afraid of pushing him too far.

He looks up at you, and for a moment, there’s a softness in his eyes, a gentleness that feels almost overwhelming. “I’m not used to saying those kinds of things,” he admits, his voice a little softer now, a little more open. “Not because I don’t feel them, but because I’m afraid I’ll say the wrong thing. That maybe… it won’t be enough.”

You realize he’s always been someone who expresses himself in other ways—through the small gestures, like remembering to bring your favorite drink, or giving you his jacket without a word when you shiver, or even just sitting with you in comfortable silence when words feel too heavy.

Your hand reaches out, hesitantly, and gently rests on top of his. You feel the warmth of his skin beneath your touch, his fingers stilling as they instinctively relax under your hand. “It doesn’t have to be perfect, Sunghoon. I just want to know that it’s real.”

His gaze shifts to your hand on his, his fingers turning slowly to intertwine with yours. The movement is slow, almost careful, like he’s testing out the weight of the feeling. He doesn’t let go.

“I don’t know how to say it the way you might want to hear it,” he says, finally meeting your eyes, his voice barely above a whisper. “But… when I’m with you, it feels like everything makes sense. Like I don’t have to try to be someone else, because you see me as I am. And that… that matters to me.”

Your breath catches. It’s not a declaration of love, not in the way you might have imagined, but somehow it feels even more real, like he’s opening up a piece of himself he keeps hidden from the rest of the world.

He shifts closer, his hand still holding yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles with a tenderness that makes your heart race. “I care about you,” he murmurs, his voice filled with quiet sincerity. “More than I thought I ever could.”

The room feels warmer, like everything is slowing down, grounding you in this moment with him. And for the first time, you realize that his silence, his hesitations, aren’t because he doesn’t care—but because he cares so much, he doesn’t want to risk saying something that might hurt you.

You smile softly, squeezing his hand in return. “That’s all I needed to hear.”

A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, a rare, genuine smile that reaches his eyes. He leans a little closer, his free hand coming up to gently cup your face. You feel your heart race, the warmth of his touch grounding you as he leans in, pressing a soft, tentative kiss to your forehead. It’s gentle, like he’s afraid of breaking the moment, but there’s a tenderness there that says more than words ever could.

When he pulls back, his gaze lingers on you, his eyes filled with a quiet promise.

“Just… be patient with me,” he whispers. “I might not say it often, but… I’ll show you. In all the ways I can.”

You nod, your heart feeling lighter than it has in days, maybe even weeks. Because now you understand—you don’t need grand gestures or perfect words. You just need him, here with you, in these little moments, his hand in yours and his quiet, steady presence filling up all the empty spaces in your heart.

And for tonight, that’s enough.

#࣪ 𓂃 ୨୧ 𓈒 ◌ MADEWiTHLOVE.#sunghoon #sunghoon x reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen scenarios #sunghoon imagines #enhypen smau #park sunghoon x reader #sunghoon fluff #sunghoon enhypen #sunghoon angst

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charliemwrites · 21 hours ago

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bro i hve a cat, he is blond/orange, i love him to death but he is so fucking stupid, i rescued him from a landfill when he was teeny tiny and he is an absolute prince, he could not survive in the wild on his own because he is so fucking stupid he can’t hunt for shit. he still loves to play outside but genuinely i hve watched him try to hunt for his entire life and he’s like the least stealthy cat in the world it’s ridiculous. anyway the other day he was outside and i went out there to garden for a little bit and when im done i come back inside and he follows me, and i’m looking at him as he’s walking inside and he has something in his mouth, and right when he comes inside and i close the door behind him, he sets down a LIVE GRASSHOPPER ON MY FOOT. just lets it go inside my house

the little fucker caught his FIRST EVER bug and immediately decided to terrorise me with it. i’m horrifically scared of all bugs and this little shit caught a gigantic ass grasshopper, was so proud of himself, and then brought it inside my house and set it down ON ME. i do love him but one of these days i am going to turn him into a pair of MITTENS

He was trying to provide for you but god what a way to do it 😭😭

I don’t mind bugs so much but grasshoppers are the bane of my existence (a summer in New Mexico RUINED me) so honestly I can’t blame you for that reaction at all 😭

So far my own little idiots only bring me toys as “hunts” (they’re in it more for praise than anything I suspect) but god help me if they brought an actual living thing to me. Bad enough I watched Kimchi just outright gulp down a beetle once 🙂‍↕️

#asks

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dumbasslesbi2 · 3 days ago

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Let Me Read To You ~ Chapter 4 (Agatha x Rio Bookstore AU)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Summary:

It's been about four months since Rio and Agatha started their relationship and both of them want to move in with one another. However, neither of them know how to bring up the topic

Notes:

Hey everyone! I got a fluff chapter for y'all cause lowkey too many of these chapters have had smut in them so here's some good ol' wholesome fluff lol

“Do you want another round my love?” Rio asked, getting up and taking the two empty beer bottles in front of them. They had been together for four months now and they decided to go out with the lesbian book club to a gay bar. “Yes please, thank you baby” Agatha said, reaching up to kiss her girlfriend on the cheek. “Wow,my love? You two are getting serious” Jen said as Rio was walking away. “What can I say, can't help the lesbian urges” Agath said, giggling. “So when are you two gonna actually lesbian it and get a U-Haul?” Alice asked, taking a sip of her drink. “Hopefully soon, it doesn't make sense anymore now that Rio is practically at my house almost everyday, I even quit my job to help her out with the bookstore” Agatha said with a huff. “No wonder I never see you home anymore before three, hopefully she's not working you too hard” Jen said while picking up her own drink. “Actually it's the opposite, I feel Rio doesn't let me do enough but I get it. It's her store after all” Agatha said, playing with her hair. “ Here you go baby,” Rio said, setting down a beer in front of Agatha. “Thank you sweetheart” Agatha said in return, caressing Rio's hand. “So do you guys think Lilia is actually gonna come or?” Alice said, looking around for their friend. “She said she was bringing the teen so you know how long it takes for him to get ready” Jen said with a huff. “Teen?” Agatha questioned, taking a sip of her beer. “Lilia’s nephew, William. He likes hanging out with us plus I think of him almost like a gay adopted son to our lesbian coven” Rio told her with a giggle. “We’re here! Sorry someone here took forever” Lilia said, taking a seat at the table where all the ladies were. “Finally, I’m assuming the teen was taking his sweet time,” Jen said, looking next to Lilia to see him taking a seat as well. “No, Eddie kept texting me and distracting me” he said, checking his phone to see if his boyfriend was still sending him texts. “Oh also, this is Agatha, she’s not that new to the group but you’ve been too busy with school to visit your lesbians moms” Alice pointed out, laughing as Jen nudged her to behave. “Oh hi! I’m William!” the teen exclaimed, putting out his hand to shake. “Oh god you really are gay” Agatha said as she shook his hand. The entire group laughed as William was shocked by Agatha’s joke.

It was after a good while that the group called it and all went their own ways. Rio and Agatha carpooled with Alice and Jen so that way they didn’t have to take so many cars. “So, it seems like you and William got along,” Jen said, looking back at Agatha. “He’s a good kid, good to see he has a lot of female role models in his life” Agatha replied, still a little tipsy from all the beers she drank. Rio couldn’t help but laugh at Agatha’s state as she rolled down the window to smoke a cigarette. Agatha rolled down her own window and nudged Rio to let her smoke a bit. “So any other plans for you two for the rest of the weekend?” Alice asked, changing the song on the radio. “Walk Nicholas in the park, I was thinking of letting him stay in the store for a bit. I know how much he loves running around and looking through the bookshelves” Rio said, looking over at Agatha, looking for her approval. “Mmm that sounds good, just make sure to keep an eye on him, he’s been into trying to climb things lately” Agatha said with a groan. “Oh god he’s a climber?” Jen exclaimed. “Yup, he tried to get on top of the tv the other day” Agatha said, pinching the bridge of her nose thinking about it. “My dad always said boys are either climbers, runners or diggers,” Rio said, looking over to Agatha and rubbing her back. “I guess it’s not that bad then, at least he isn’t a runner” Agatha told her giggling. As Jen parked the car they all bid their goodbyes, leaving Agatha and Rio to go back to their house. Well technically just Agatha’s house, for now. As Rio opened the door she greeted the babysitter and paid her since Agatha was still a bit too tipsy to argue with her. Rio helped Nicholas to bed, leaving Agatha to lie down on the couch for a minute. As Rio returned she sat next to Agatha, laying her head on her shoulder and playing with her fingers. “Rio?” Agatha asked, turning her head to look at her. “Yes my love?” Rio replied, looking up to meet her eyes. “Move in with us” Agatha said, staring into her eyes. “Sure,” Rio told her with a giggle. “I’m serious, you basically live here. Let’s just uhaul already” Agatha said to her with a pout. “I know you are, I’m just giggling because Jen and Alice have been pushing me to ask you” Rio told her, kissing away her pout. “They were pushing me to ask you too today,” Agatha said, kissing Rio’s head. “You sure you don’t want to run it by Nicky first though?” Rio asked, brushing away Agatha’s hair from her face. “Nah, he likes you too much, if anything he’s sad everytime you leave. Oh wait! Actually, there’s something I wanted to show you” Agatha said, getting up and going to the kitchen.

When Agatha came back, she had a piece of paper and showed it to Rio. At first she was confused by it but then looked at it to see it was a drawing. It was a drawing of her, Agatha and Nicholas all together holding hands. However, when Rio saw what was written above them, tears came instantly to her eyes. Above the two of them he wrote “mommies”, which just made Rio emotional. She was never really one to think about having a family but with Agatha it all came so easily. “Aw baby, this is adorable” Rio told Agatha, giving Agatha a bear hug. “There’s no way Nicholas wouldn’t want you living here with us” Agatha told her, cradling her head.

It took a full day but they were able to move all of Rio’s belongings over to Agatha’s. She even gave Rio her office since there was no point of having it anymore now that she was working at the bookstore. Rio made it her writing and indoor plants space, she always loved having a witchy vibe when it came to her spaces. “God you’re such a good decorator my love” Agatha said, breath taken from how beautiful the office had become. “What can I say, it’s a passion of mine” Rio said giggling, kissing Agatha on the cheek. “Mommy why boxes?” Nicholas asked, running into the room. “Well baby, Rio is going to be living with us from now on. She won’t have to leave as often” Agatha told him while picking him up. “Mama staying with us? YAY!!!” He screamed a bit too close to Agatha’s ear as she moved him slightly away from her body. Rio came closer and grabbed the boy from her. “Mhmm, I get to stay here with you and your mommy, are you ok with that Nicky?” She questioned, making sure the boy was stable in her arms. Nicholas didn’t say anything but nodded his head and put his arms around Rio’s neck, hugging her closely. Agatha couldn’t help herself and snuck a picture since she knew how much Rio hated taking pictures. “Hey Nicky, how do you feel about getting ready for bed” Agatha said, caressing her son’s back. “Can I sleep with you and mama tonight?” he asked, looking up at Agatha. “Sure buddy, whatever you want” Rio told him, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you,” Agatha whispered. As Agatha got Nicholas tucked in she went into the bathroom where Rio was getting ready for bed herself. “Thank you for everything Rio, I love you” Agatha told her, coming from behind and hugging her. “Of course baby, I love you too” Rio told her after spitting out her toothpaste into the sink. “Now com’on, I’m tired from packing and unpacking all day” Rio said while turning and giving Agatha a quick kiss. The both of them got in bed, hugging Nicholas who was already asleep between the two of them. They drifted off to sleep with the thoughts of them finally becoming a family. Rio hadn’t written in a while but now she dreamt of ideas for her next book of fiction. A witch who falls in love with death despite all odds. A world in which A covenless witch and lady death herself form a coven but most important of all, a family.

#agatha x rio #agatha all along #agatha harkness #lesbian #rio vidal #sapphic #agathario #fanfic #jen x alice #lilia calderu #william kaplan #ao3 fanfic

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imsuperhungry · 16 hours ago

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the game

The living room is dim, with a few soft, scattered lights casting a cozy glow. Your mom is sprawled on the couch, casually lounging and watching what you can only assume is Grey’s Anatomy. You chuckle to yourself, wondering why she’s so hooked on that predictable show.

The soft thud of your shoes on the carpet makes her turn her head, catching you just as you reach for the door. Her eyes narrow playfully, and you can feel her watching you, even from her cozy spot on the couch.

“Just to make sure—you’ve got your taser with you, right?” she asks, her motherly instincts kicking in as she gives you a careful once-over. You can see the hint of worry in her eyes, not quite ready to let her daughter head out alone.

"Yes, Mom," you say with a little giggle, rolling your eyes. You remember the day she handed you the tiny pink taser, tucked in a shiny metal case, and told you to keep it close whenever you're out alone. "You never know what could happen," she’d warned, especially since things can go wrong even when you're not alone.

“Just trying to make sure, baby,” she says softly, standing up and coming over to where you stand by the couch. Once she’s in front of you, she gently cups your face, her thumbs brushing tenderly across your cheeks. Her gaze is soft, filled with all the love and care only a mom could have.

“Mom,” you whine, even though you secretly love her coddling. Still, you really don’t want to be late—your first date has to start off perfectly!

“Okay, okay!” she exclaims, hands raised in mock surrender, as if proving her innocence. She flashes you one last smile, and you can see the wheels turning in her head as a new idea begins to form.

“Maybe,” she starts, her voice teasing, “when you get back, you can tell me if he’s a good kisser!” she adds with a playful giggle. "I could totally grab us some ice cream, your favorite takeout, and we can talk about him all night long!" she squeals, her excitement bubbling up at the thought of the perfect evening ahead.

With a dramatic sigh, you roll your eyes, pretending to be annoyed. "Fine! Fine, if you insist, Mom!" you say, but the mask of frustration slips away as a grin spreads across your face. The thought of a cozy night in with her fills you with excitement too.

"Great! Well, I guess I'll see you when you get back, honey," she says, walking you to the door. You spin around, and she plants a sweet kiss on your cheek in the doorframe, pausing for a moment to take one last look at you. A warm feeling of pride swells in her chest—you’d grown up so much.

You glance at the time, realizing you should’ve left three minutes ago. With a quiet, frustrated “Shit!” you dash to your car, hoping you can still make it on time.

You yank open the door and squeeze your way inside, twisting the key into the ignition. As the engine hums to life, you quickly glance at the window, checking that your look is up to par. The darkness outside makes it easier, especially with the soft glow of the dashboard lights barely illuminating the space around you.

You finally pull out of your driveway and head to the skatepark Seb instructed you to drive to. He had originally wanted to meet at his house, but then his mom and hyper cousins showed up, and he said they would "ruin the mood.”

As you drive out of the neighborhood, you turn the radio up to kill the silence hanging in the car. The moment you twist the knob, you hear your absolute favorite song playing, and it instantly slaps a smile on your face as you cruise down the road.

After enough red lights to make you want to pull your hair out, you finally arrive at the park. The moment you see it, a sketchy feeling creeps up on you. The place is empty and completely closed off from any late-night visitors. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion—what exactly is Seb planning to do at a closed-off skatepark?

You silently thank your mom for forcing you to bring the taser; it provides a small sense of security as you step out of the now-turned-off vehicle.

You glance behind you and notice two other cars parked far apart from each other, clearly indicating that the drivers don’t know each other. Upon a closer look, you recognize the car closest to you as Seb’s, meaning he’s already at the park.

You quickly send him a text, asking where he is, feeling a bit uneasy standing alone in the dark, empty parking lot.

Almost instantly, Seb sends you a text, practically commanding you to stay in the parking lot—he’ll be the one to come and get you.

"Okay," you reply to his last text. "But pleassseee hurry, I'm sooo colddd," you add, hoping he’ll pick up the pace.

"You didn't bring a jacket, doofus?" he replies, making a grin sneak onto your face.

"...No," you admit, already knowing he’d warned you that the night would be way colder than the day.

“Dumbass,” was his last message before you turned off your phone. You giggle to yourself, then start to admire the nature around you, taking in the quiet stillness of the night.

Winter nights were almost coming to an end, and the bitter temperatures were slowly fading, which made you happy. Sure, winter was amazing, but once Christmas was over, the cold started to get old.

The once bare trees were beginning to bloom in beautiful hues of red, green, and yellow. The leaves were still sparse, but their delicate colors were more than enough to make you feel much happier with the surroundings.

You're snapped out of your tranquil state by a sudden tap on your shoulder. Instinctively, you reach into your bag, your hand immediately finding the small handheld taser. Without hesitation, you point it toward the person who just brushed against your shoulder.

Only to recognize the familiar messy heaps of hair, the big eyes staring back at you, and the pale, veiny hands raised in the air to show they meant no harm.

"Oh shit, sorry Seb," you say, bashfully tossing the taser back into your bag. Your face heats with embarrassment. So much for a good start to a date.

"You just carry a fucking weapon with you at all times?" he asks, his voice cracking in shock.

"What, better safe than sorry, no?" you reply, regaining your composure.

After a moment of awkward silence, neither of you could contain the laughter bubbling up in your throats. You both immediately doubled over in laughter, the tension melting away.

After a minute or so of giggling, he looks at you with a playful grin and says, "Can't wait to tell everyone that you almost shot me on our first date." His voice is light and teasing, and his eyes twinkle with that dreamy, mischievous spark that makes your heart flutter. You roll your eyes and laugh, teasing him right back. "You shouldn't have run up on me like that, you scared the fuck out of me!"

He looks down and laughs some more before locking eyes with you.

"I was gonna tickle you," he says, a playful grin spreading across his face.

"I'll fucking kill you," you say, locking eyes with him. Your playful tone has vanished, replaced by a more serious look

“oh.”

After a few seconds of silence, you smile and suddenly run up to him.

"Let's go skate, hm?" you say, your voice light as you sprint toward the park, excitement bubbling up inside you.

All you hear is his ugly laughing (which you secretly find adorably cute) behind you as he follows along, the sound making your smile grow even wider.

After a few rounds of trial and error, with him patiently teaching you how to use the skateboard, you finally manage to land a few basic moves. It’s a little wobbly at first, but the thrill of getting it right feels amazing.

Under the soft glow of the streetlights, you sink into the warmth of the bench, leaning against each other as you share a cigarette. The night wraps around you like a soft blanket, the air filled with a gentle stillness.

There are no words exchanged, but the silence feels perfectly at ease, a comfortable pause that allows you to savor the quiet intimacy of the moment, just enjoying each other’s company under the stars.

You roll your eyes at him, unable to suppress a smile that breaks across your face like the dawn. There’s something infectious about his laughter, and you feel a warm flutter in your chest, the kind that comes from sharing a moment of lightness under the stars.

“Anyway, should we get up?” you ask, looking at him with a playful smile.

“Yeah, sure,” he replies, pressing the glowing cigarette bud against the ground and stepping on it with a decisive motion.

You place a foot on the skateboard, concentrating on finding your balance as you look down at your feet. Just as you start to get the hang of it, you feel a gentle tap on your shoulder from in front of you. Curiosity sparks within you as you glance up, turning to see who has interrupted your moment of focus.

You widen your eyes and snap your head up for the second time that night, your heart quickening as you take in the sight of a girl who looks strikingly familiar. There’s something about her that tugs at your memory, but you can’t quite place where you’ve seen her before. She stands there with a curious smile on her face, and you find yourself searching your mind for the connection.

“Uh, yes?” you ask her, your confusion evident as you try to place her in your memory.

“I think you’re the girl I called pretty at the game we had last week,” she says, her smile widening as she speaks.

You begin to recall the girl who had called you pretty in the locker room after your last game, and the memory stirs something warm inside you.

“Ohhh, yeah, that’s me,” you say, your voice warm with recognition. “Uh, what do you need?” you ask, trying to sound polite while your mind races with curiosity about why she’s here now.

“Well, my boyfriend, my friend, and her boyfriend are all here tonight, so we were wondering if you’d want to come with us?” she replies, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

By now, Sebastian is standing next to you, listening intently as she speaks.

You glance over at him, about to reply. “Uh, sur—”

“No thanks, we’re about to leave anyway,” he interjects, cutting you off with a firm but gentle tone. He then grabs your hand, clutching the skateboard with his other, and begins to pull you both away from the moment, leaving the invitation behind as you step into the night together.

When you reach the parking lot, you turn to Sebastian, curiosity bubbling up inside you. “Why didn’t you want to hang out with them?”

He looks at you, a thoughtful expression on his face. “I just wanted it to be the two of us. I felt like they would have ruined the whole date,” he explains, and you can feel a blush creeping onto your cheeks at his words.

“Okay,” you say, trying to hide your smile. “Well, there’s the diner we usually stop by at. Wanna go?” you ask, hopeful for more time just the two of you.

#oc #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere harem #yanderes #x reader #yandere oc #poly yandere

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sejarcus-archive · 2 days ago

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Some fluffy modern Sejarcus scenarios and headcanons, that have been on my mind:

(Premise: in these Sejanus is not an early bird at all, cause so many cute scenarios can be born from that)

Their morning cuddles usually end with Marcus trying to get up to start the day and Sejanus not letting him go, wrapping one arm around his chest and leaving repeated kisses on his shoulder, while mumbling to please stay in bed a little longer.

After Marcus is done applying moisturizer on his own face, he asks Sejanus to face him and delicately applies it on his, too, but he can’t help himself and keeps leaning in to give him quick kisses, before pulling away to actually look at what he’s doing.

Sejanus takes charge of the cooking most of the time, seeing that he’s a bit more experienced and really enjoys it, as well, but in the morning he’s always too tired to function, so preparing breakfast is a task that falls on Marcus. He really doesn’t mind, he’s good at it too, and while he’s not as passionate about it as Sejanus, he has no problem cooking. The real problem arises on days when Sejanus manages to get up from bed at the same time as him, ‘cause while he’s trying to get everything ready, he clings to him from behind, wrapping his arms around his waist, resting his head against his shoulder, and following Marcus’s every step around the kitchen, making it so difficult for him to move and heightening the probability of either of them getting burned on the stove or the hot pans. But saying that it bothers him would be a blatant lie.

(This is just me trying to spread the koala Sejanus agenda)

Sejanus mostly follows his ma’s recipes that he grew up with, but sometimes he likes to venture out of his comfort zone and experiment with combining ingredients in new ways. He has a lot of fun doing it, but is always scared that Marcus won’t like the dishes he makes. But Marcus always responds so enthusiastically to them, praising how good they are and asking him so many questions on how he made them, what ingredients he used, how he achieved those textures and flavors. Sejanus still gets butterflies at Marcus’s sweetness and thoughtfulness, even after years of being with him; Marcus gets butterflies at seeing Sejanus so happy and talking with his eyes all sparkly and a smile so big, but still somewhat timid at the praises and attention.

Marcus does some sort of manual labor job, which makes it so his back and shoulders are often sore. Sejanus takes it upon himself to help him, by giving him massages most nights before bed, even when Marcus tells him he doesn’t have to, that he’s fine. But Sejanus loves how both his body and whole demeanor start to relax under his touch, it makes him feel good in turn, knowing he’s helping Marcus feel better. Plus he loves physical touch too much to let an occasion for it slip by, and Marcus is the same, so he doesn’t really insist on not needing it.

Marcus gives Sejanus massages too. He works as a nurse and has to stand for hours during his shifts. When they're both home in the evening, Marcus takes Sejanus’s feet on his lap while they sit on the couch, and massages them as he listens to him vent about his day.

For a while Marcus worked at a job in which he had to bring his lunch from home. Sejanus took charge of the meal prepping and packing, insisting that it helps him destress. He would put a little note with each lunch, reminding Marcus he loves him, or wishing him a good day, or writing little inside jokes and scribbling doodles on them. Each one felt like a warm hug to the heart for Marcus. He kept them all and put them inside a little wooden box that now sits in his night stand’s drawer.

Sejanus gets a slight pout when he’s upset. It’s not that noticeable if you don’t pay attention, and he himself isn’t aware of it. Marcus, on the other hand, is extremely aware of it and one little look at Sejanus is enough for him to know he’s upset. He finds it very cute, and thinks that if Sejanus was to ever look up at him with his huge eyes and that slight pout, and ask him to cut his own hand off, he would do it with zero hesitation.

Marcus’s absolute favorite jacket is a vintage leather jacket that fits him like a glove. Sejanus’s brain short circuits every time he wears it (he wears it a lot).

They fight for hours over who has to make the phone calls, ‘cause neither of them wants to. Somehow, 99% of the time, Marcus is the one giving up first and doing it.

Marcus genuinely thinks Sejanus is the funniest person on the planet (he is). Everyone could tell he was into him, because of how hard he laughed at his jokes. Similarly to this, Sejanus only ever gets super giggly around Marcus, and everyone could tell he liked him because of that.

Sejanus likes to sit on Marcus’s lap any chance he gets. They are that couple at a party. You turn around and you see them sitting at the edge of an otherwise empty couch, Sejanus on Marcus’s lap, with his arms around his neck, and they just keep whispering stuff to each other and chuckling and kissing. Marcus loves whenever Sejanus sits on his lap, ‘cause he can wrap his arms around him and hold him so easily, which is his favorite thing in the world.

And since we’re on the topic of Marcus holding Sejanus, I’m gonna add here three headcanons that I had shared in the tags of a post on sejanusarchive some time ago:

Marcus can’t help himself from hugging Sejanus whenever they’re in the same room, and he accompanies each hug with a very essential and mandatory kiss on the head.

Sometimes, when Sejanus is feeling tired or lazy, he uses his tall, strong boyfriend privileges, and asks Marcus to carry him. Marcus pretends to be annoyed by the request, to tease him, but the fond smile on his lips, that he didn’t quite manage to conceal, gives away the fact that he’s actually very amused and endeared by it.

Contrary to Sejanus, Marcus is an early bird. In the morning he is super active, waking up and getting ready for the day with no problem and in no time, but having to help a very sleepy Sejanus get ready faster or else he’ll be late. At night the roles are reversed. When 9pm rolls around, Marcus is already falling asleep, fighting with everything in himself to keep his eyes open, while Sejanus is the most energized he’s felt all day, and just keeps yapping and yapping to poor Marcus, who really wants to pay attention to what he’s saying and is trying very hard to, but his brain won’t let him.

Sometimes when they cuddle, Sejanus climbs on top of Marcus to lay completely on him like a baby otter does with their mother, and jokes about sleeping like that the entire night. Obviously he doesn’t, ‘cause it would be too uncomfortable for both of them after a while, especially for Marcus, but he can still dream for a couple of minutes.

When Sejanus was a child, he used to watch romcoms with his ma all the time. From them, he learned that gifting flowers is one of the most romantic gestures out there, so he grew up internalizing that. On his first date with Marcus he felt shy and nervous, and didn’t know how the flowers could have been perceived by him, so he didn’t bring him any. But on the second date, with the confidence of how well the first one had gone and how sweet and gentle Marcus was, he brought him the most beautiful bouquet ever, with flowers in all shapes and sizes, and colors of the rainbow. Marcus was incredibly surprised and flustered; no one had ever gifted him flowers before, and he had to fight the urge to get down on one knee and ask Sejanus to marry him then and there. After years together, Sejanus still brings him bouquets of them every once in a while. Marcus still feels like he could explode with love each time.

#this is honestly all just a ploy to spread the agenda that they’re both super clingy and affectionate #sejanus and his sweet giant teddy bear of a boyfriend #kept my favorite one for last #i love the idea of sejanus bringing marcus flowers sooooo much!!#marcus wearing the leather jacket on their date and sejanus not being able to function bc of it #sejanus bringing marcus flowers on their date and marcus not being able to function bc of it #conclusion there were many awkward moments but it’s fine they’re perfect for each other and they love each other anyway so it didn’t matter #btw i actually haven’t decided if sejanus is a morning person or not #i think he fits both being one and not #i talk a lot about him not being one only for cuteness reasons but yea #only thing i know for sure is that he’s an insomniac #sejarcus #sejanus plinth #marcus tbosas

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