#anyway. get changed by knowing the self through the other lmao

[outeremissary]

Not interested in soulmates but very interested in when as if by fate two people are one another's inevitable doom, the death of a worldview, the end of all certainty about what makes up their self. Literal death of one or both optional. That's high romance babyyyyyy

[selfinflictedgunshotwound]

sorry for only saying this type of shit lately but i kinda wanna drive a car straight into a brick wall at the highest speed possible

[herrmit]

not to start shit but. tell me you didn't understand princess jellyfish without telling me you didn't understand princess jellyfish

[mejomonster]

Reading a new book on love and feeling gradually more and more hopeless ToT

[withleeknow]

i think you'll do well with requests bc they seem to be popular in the fanfic side of tumblr! but even if it doesn't take off that quick, at least that'll be less overwhelming bc some ppl can be so demanding....anyways, i hope the best for you in this new journey haha 💝

me personally, i'm not very creative so i'll leave the details to the professionals (aka you) but i'd like to req something from minho's pov. i think those type of stories are SEVERELY lacking in the lee know fics department lol 🥲 it could be a childhood friends to lovers where he is pining for oc but he has a lot of self esteem issues and thinks she's not interested in him. also a big softie and just all around head over heels for her. you can add your magic! (if this is even remotely interesting enough to write lol i just want a minho pov tbh shsjjfjdjdj 😭)

light years.

summary: three times minho bites his tongue, and one time you don't let him.

pairing: minho x f!reader genre/warnings: childhood friends to lovers, fluff, angst; kissing, cursing, so much pining i could hurl. could this have been more edited? oh absolutely lmao but i actually don't hate it sooo this is what we're going with :p word count: 4.2k note: to the first anon, thank you so much for your kind words! :') and i'm sorry that this took me longer than expected. i was trying to figure out what i wanted to write for your prompt but then i got the second request with the song and i thought they would go nicely together hehehehe i hope the both of you enjoy thissss

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / request masterlist / ko-fi

I'm not sure what it means to love But I blink kind of slow around you I'm not sure what it means to love But I'll grow wherever you do What that means, I don't have a clue

I'm Not Sure - Margeaux Beylier

One.

Minho is 18 years old, and he doesn't know what love is, doesn't really care for it at all.

While his friends are out there wrapped in the clutches of young love - the kind that blooms with stolen glances in classrooms and sticky notes passed in secrecy, Minho finds it simply unnecessary. He doesn't understand it whenever Hyunjin whines about not having a girlfriend because they're still young, they've got all the time in the world for romance later down the line. It's not the end of the world like Hyunjin laments it is.

Minho has his own life to prioritize. College is starting after the summer and he still needs to figure out how he's going to cope with the absence of his cats once he moves away. He's got dancing and he's got his other hobbies to keep him fulfilled and occupied.

And above all, he's got you.

You're getting ready for your sister's wedding when it happens for the first time. Or rather, when it doesn't happen.

You step back into the room where Minho is waiting for you on the sofa, his gaze resting idly on the screen of his phone, scrolling absentmindedly through his friends' group chat even though he has no interest in whatever they're talking about. You cough lightly to indicate your return after disappearing into the bathroom minutes prior to change into your dress. He looks up upon your soft announcement, and when his eyes settle on you, he swears it feels like an invisible force has collided with his chest and knocked all of the air from his lungs.

Throughout all his years of knowing you, inseparable from childhood until now, Minho has never seen you like this - all dolled up with your hair falling over your collarbones, cascading over your shoulders in soft waves that beckons him to run his fingers through. The light blue dress hugs you beautifully, the silky material catching the light from outside the window every time you shift on your feet under his steady gaze.

"So...?" you ask, moving your arms awkwardly behind your back like you're not sure what to do with them. "What do you think?"

What does he think?

Minho thinks you might just be the prettiest girl in the world. He thinks he must have been an idiot his whole life, to have spent most of his waking hours beside you and not once has he noticed how truly breathtaking you are. He thinks about the feeling that spreads in the pit of his stomach, sends warmth throughout his body and makes his heartbeat race a million miles an hours.

Your best friend blinks slowly as he savors the warmth that he's never experienced before. It's similar to the feeling you get when you're sitting under the shade of a big tree on a summer's day. It's comparable to the satisfied tranquility you get after you've just finished a hearty meal. A little hazy in your contentment.

It's not until you probe with a pointed Well? that Minho realizes he's been staring at you in silence for a few minutes now. He swallows thickly, willing away the words that he wants to say but they get lodged in his throat. He reckons it's weird to verbalize them, because it's not how the two of you function. You don't often utter that kind of sentiment out loud and he doesn't either. Never have and likely never will.

In the end, he bites his tongue. "You look presentable," is what he settles on.

You roll your eyes, then reward him with a laugh.

Minho doesn't care about love. He only cares about you.

Two.

Minho is 21 years old, and he's gotten used to his heart beating erratically whenever he's in your presence.

Three years flew by in the blink of an eye, and graduation is just around the corner. You've always done well in school, straight A student with a track record that most could only dream to have. You put in the hours, you do the work. You deserve everything that you've achieved.

But it's been a challenging few months for you both, being seniors and all. He's had to watch you struggle to stay on top of your classes while also having to slave over a thesis 24/7 until you were sure it was perfect. It reduced you to tears a few times, and Minho was there to hold your hand through it all.

He held you in his comforting embrace when you wanted to give up. He made you dinner when you were too immersed in your schoolwork to notice that you'd forgotten to eat. He was your biggest support system; if it weren't for him, you don't know if you would've made it through.

It's hot outside today, a little unbearable but not uncharacteristic for June. Minho waits in a familiar hallway, the same hall that he's walked past for hundreds of times over the past few years, the same hall that he won't see again once he holds a degree in his hands in only a few weeks' time.

As he sits on an old wooden bench, he bounces his leg as if he's one of the people in the classrooms that line the hall. He doesn't have to be on campus today, but here he is regardless because you're scheduled for your thesis defense this morning. You're in one of those rooms, probably also bouncing your leg from the overwhelming nerves. Minutes feel like hours; you went in there a while ago after he had sent you off with a pat on the head and an encouraging Godspeed.

He's nervous for you, but he's sure that you'll do great. Years of hard work accumulating in what must be the most important moment of your academic journey. You even stayed up all night last night, refusing to sleep a wink just to revise your arguments and talking points.

Minho's head snaps up instantly as he hears a door creak open, the sound of it reverberating throughout the empty hallway like a gong announcing your return from battle. It takes you a few seconds to step out of the room and into his line of sight. He can't see you very well with all this distance between you, but he can still make out the way your frame is visibly shaking with every step you take. He rises to his feet, and you break into a sprint.

He opens his arms wide - a hug of consolation or congratulations, he doesn't know yet - but he still can't seem to brace himself for the collision. You run straight into his embrace, your warms wounding around his middle tightly. Minho feels your tremors, hears your sniffles from where you're pressing your cheek against his shoulder.

"How did it go?" he asks gently.

You start crying then, and he doesn't know if the tears that his shirt is soaking up are those of joy or of grief, but he holds you through it anyway. He swears he can feel every single beat of your heart, hammering so wildly as you're pressed against him like you could sink into him if only you'd push just a little bit more.

"I passed," you say in between sobs. "I got an A."

Minho heaves out the breath that he's been holding ever since you entered that classroom, but it's not like he had any doubt about it to begin with. He hugs you tighter than he's ever had before, and he loves you just the same.

You two must look so dramatic, all wrapped up together in your own little bubble, but who the fuck cares? Although, when another student passes by and coughs, you do break away from him, a little embarrassed for a second.

Even with your hair all mussed up and your flushed cheeks stained with tears, he still thinks you look the same as you did when you were 18 at your sister's wedding. The prettiest girl in the world.

Minho wipes away the wetness on your face with his sleeves, then swipes with gentle thumbs at the moisture that's gathered along your lash lines.

"Holy fucking shit," you breathe out, your shoulders sagging with evident relief, so much more relaxed now that you've done it. "I can't believe it's finally over."

Your best friend can't entirely agree, because he's always believed in you. He's had faith in you since the beginning, since you were mere children laughing and crying together on the playground. You were meant to do great things, this was always crystal clear to Minho.

I love you, he thinks as he smooths a hand over your hair, his chest swelling with nothing but pride and fondness for you. You did so well.

But it's not what he ends up telling you. He swallows it down, washes it away with a dose of regret and longing. He's still not the type to express sappy sentiments, and he's grown accustomed to adoring you only in secret.

"Let's go," he says softly. "I'll buy you dinner."

Minho is still young, he's still got his whole life ahead of him, but he knows what love is now. He knows that it's you.

Three.

Minho is 24 years old, and he finds it hard to make peace with the fact that you're starting to get out there, that you're finally going on dates now that academics aren't taking up most of your time anymore.

To be fair, none of the guys you've seen have been graced with a second date, and Minho thanks his lucky stars whenever you return from a night out and text him a simple Not it. He knows that it wasn't your decision in the first place, that your mom and your sister have been setting you up on blind dates because they want to see you bring a boyfriend home.

You complain about it all the time, whining about how you're not interested but your family is adamant on it. Minho is well aware, and yet, there's a part of him that's a little shaken, because what if? What if the universe miscalculates and the stars misalign just enough in his misfortune for you to cross paths with someone who's absolutely perfect for you? Someone who's a good man that can give you what you've always deserved to have.

He really doesn't know what he would do if that happens. When it happens?

He doesn't know why you're here tonight either, sitting on a chair on the other side of his kitchen island in a pretty dress when you're supposed to be going on a date in half an hour. The guy apparently works for a big record label, some producer that your sister knows through a friend of a friend.

You look indifferent, kind of bored, as you watch Minho makes dinner for himself. "You seem miserable," he comments, taking a quick break from chopping vegetables to glance up at you. You do look a bit miserable, but you're still the most beautiful in his eyes.

You throw your head back and groan loudly, "Because I am. God, I don't know why they keep making me do this. These guys always give nothing."

"Please elaborate."

"They're all boring suits with tedious routines." you say, and as absentminded as your tone is, it sounds a little pointed to Minho's ears. "They don't make me laugh."

Do they not make you laugh, or do they not make you laugh more than I can?

"Then don't go," he snickers, though there's no humor in his voice at all. "These guys sound like duds. Just tell your sister to fuck off."

"Do you mean that? Do you really think I shouldn't go?"

And there's something in your gaze, something so suddenly expectant in the way you're looking at him that makes Minho wonder. If he says yes, would you listen? Would you stay here with him? Would you stay here for him?

I'm serious. Don't go. You can have this and I'll make myself ramyeon. Just be here with me.

You both stare at each other on either side of his kitchen island for an infinite stretch of time. He feels like your eyes are trying to tell him something that he can't decipher, as if they're sending him signals in a language that he never learned how to read.

For a second there, he indulges himself. He pretends that you're only asking because you want to hear him say it. That you want him to put up a fight and not let you go.

But he bites his tongue because it's become a bad habit. A habit that he can't shake because he simply doesn't have the courage to do so. Because if you stay here tonight, looking like that under the cozy lighting of his living room, he might just spill his secrets and he wouldn't be able to take it when reality comes crashing down and you end up telling him that you've never felt the same way.

"I'm kidding," he musters up the words, and tries to plaster on a smile for your sake, even though he's not sure if you really believe it. "You're dressed up anyway. Go and get a free fancy dinner, if anything."

Minho knows what love is, but his love has always lived in the shadows, his longing has only existed in the dark that it terrifies him just thinking about it meeting the light.

Four.

Minho is 26 years old, and he's been a coward for the better part of a decade.

Maybe he's loved you for even longer, but he has spent the past eight years head over heels in love with you, and not once has he done anything about it. Never been able to gather enough courage to ask you out, never even hinted at his feelings for you. He loves you from his place by your side and yet, you've never known.

He loves you the most, but he loves you in the worst way that a person can love another - he loves you in silence.

You're the prettiest girl in the world, and Lee Minho is a pathetic coward.

All these years, he's kept quiet and for what? There's always a spot reserved for him right next to you and yet, it feels like he can only watch you from the sidelines, far away from where it really matters, because he doesn't think he can fit into your life the way he truly wants. You taught him what love was, and love, to Minho, is unattainable. Something he can spend the rest of his life yearning for but won't ever have.

Love hurts. Sometimes, all love does is hurt.

"I would've taken you to a nice restaurant if you asked, you know," he says, putting a chocolate cupcake on the coffee table in front of you before he sits down next to you on the fluffy carpet of your living room. He pulls out a candle next, placing it right in the center of the sweet treat.

Your gaze follows his hand has he lights the candle, your eyes glinting with excitement as though you're a child again and your favorite day of the year is still your birthday. The tiny flame curves and bends, dancing to a rhythm that looks like only you can hear. You watch the candle like it's magic, while Minho just watches you, thinking the same thing.

He watches as you close your eyes and clasp your hands together for the theatrics, then you blow out the flame seconds later with a swift breath.

You turn to him with a smile, "I don't need a nice restaurant. This is perfect."

He blinks, and there's that warmth simmering in his belly again. He first felt it when he was 18, and he feels it now. He feels it almost every moment that he spends with you, and he reckons it's only reasonable, because you're his home personified and love can still be beautiful even when it hurts. There's his heart racing again, but that's nothing new to Minho.

He muses over your words. Perfect. Just one simple word is enough to get his hopes up in a way that it really shouldn't.

Your definition of a birthday well spent is in your cozy apartment, eating takeout pizza with your best friend. Perfect, to you, is him baking you a singular chocolate cupcake upon your request and being with him within these four walls, where his fingers occasionally brush yours when you sit next to each other.

Oh, Minho would follow you to the ends of the earth if you asked him to.

He clears his throat lightly, breaking away from your gaze that's full of gratitude and childlike wonder. "What did you wish for?"

"I'm not gonna tell you. It won't come true then."

Wishes don't come true anyway, he thinks, but obviously he won't say it out loud to you, and on your birthday no less. Instead, he diverts his attention to the cupcake, subconsciously tonguing his cheek as he takes a small chunk of the sweet and offers it to you.

You let him feed you even though your eyes are narrowed. "What was that look?" you ask.

"What look?"

"You had a look."

"No, I didn't," Minho insists.

"Yes, you did. You wanted to say something, didn't you?"

He shrugs, popping a piece of cupcake into his own mouth. The answer is yes, he did want to say something, but if you want to get technical about it, then he's wanted to say something for years now. He asks you the same thing every birthday, What did you wish for?, and you would refuse to tell him every time.

"Wishes don't come true," he verbalizes it this time, with a voice that's lighthearted on purpose despite knowing that you wouldn't take it that seriously either way.

You roll your eyes. "Now you're just being pessimistic."

"What? I'm speaking from experience."

"You've never had a birthday wish come true?"

"My birthday wishes haven't come true since I was 18."

Minho feels your eyes on the side of his face, and when you remain quiet for a beat too long, he turns his attention back to you. "What?"

"How do you know they didn't come true?"

"Because..."

Because you've been my wish for almost a decade now. I didn't use to believe in wishes but I always believed in you. Every year, I wish for you to look at me the way I look at you, but it never comes true. Every year, I wish that you would love me back, not just as a friend, but you never do. You are my wish, but you're also the very reason why I know wishes don't come true.

Then he's laughing, but nothing is remotely funny about this. It's your birthday and suddenly all he can think about is how much it stings to be reminded that you're the only thing he'll ever wish for, and still, maybe this simple wish is absurd enough that the universe will never grant him what he truly wants.

"Never mind," he says. "This whole thing is silly."

There he goes, biting his tongue again. Coward.

"No, what were you going to say?"

"You're so bossy today," Minho pretends to complain.

"It's my birthday. Tell me," you press on, and suddenly he can't find any appreciation for your stubbornness that he's adored all his life. You keep your eyes fixed on him when all he wants to do is hide from you.

What is he supposed to say to you? What can he even say? That he's spent more than a third of his life hopelessly enamored with you? That the second he utters any of this out loud, he knows it will be the end of your friendship?

And Minho can't afford to lose you. Even if it hurts, he would rather let love hurt than live in the absence of you.

"Eat your cupcake," he says instead. "I'll get some ice cream."

He makes a move to get up, and the bad habit further cements its place in his subconscious. He's always running away from you when you're supposed to be the person he can be the most open with. This is how he knows he doesn't deserve you.

But you reach for his wrist and it makes him still, the feeling of your hand sliding downward to hold onto his fingers. He's used to the feeling of your smaller hand in his, used to how he can hear his heartbeat in his ears whenever you lace your fingers together.

What he isn't accustomed to, is the look on your face this very second, akin to the one you wore two years ago as you sat on the other side of his kitchen island, asking him if you should go.

Expectant and hopeful; you're holding something back too.

The words that slip from your lips are ones that he never imagined you would say to him.

"I've waited for you long enough."

His poor excuse of retrieving ice cream is all but forgotten as he stares at you, doe-eyed and despairingly confused. "What is that supposed to mean?"

You take a breath, and Minho wonders if this is how he looked every time he wanted to say something only to back down in the end.

Then it all comes rushing out.

"For a while, I thought there might've been something between us, something more than just friendship. I don't know why I thought that, I just had a feeling. On the day of our graduation, I thought you would finally kiss me or at least say something, but you didn't. Whenever I went on dates, I wanted you to tell me not to go, that I was wasting my time with those guys that couldn't make me laugh because they weren't you. You never said anything, you never did anything. I waited every birthday just like I waited tonight. You're still holding it over me and I'm starting to wonder if you really love me too or if I imagined everything this whole time."

Your voice gets smaller toward the end, almost as if the uncertainty takes over you the longer he remains silent. He doesn't have the words for it, doesn't really have the mental capacity to process all of what you just professed. Years and years of longing, of hoping that you would come running into his arms the same way you did on the morning of your thesis defense, and it turns out that you were always the one waiting for him to reach you.

If you really love me too.

Your fingers start to loosen around his but Minho doesn't let you get away, not now and not ever again. Not when he finally knows that he's burnt up enough of your time just because he was too stuck in his head to see that you were holding a hand out for him all along.

He pulls you into his orbit and he likes to imagine that somewhere out there in the infinite universe, two stars collide when he kisses you for the first time, long overdue but still heavenly nonetheless.

He's crying but you don't seem to mind the tears. You're kissing him back and it's really all that matters. He can't think straight but he adores you to the point that his lungs ache.

"I love you," he mumbles against your lips. The sentiment comes out clumsy, half coherent but wholeheartedly sincere. "I'm sorry. I love you, I love you, fuck, I love you."

You're the one who breaks the kiss first, with your hand on his chest gently pushing him away. Panic instantly shoots through him like a lightning strike. These are the words he's been holding back for years, did he not even say them right? Did he fuck things up yet again?

You brush the tears from his cheeks, your voice so impossibly soft when you ask, "Do you mean it?"

Minho splinters into a million pieces, of course he does.

Your name falls from his lips, sounding like a prayer, like the most tender plea that's ever been uttered, "I love you the most. I'm so in love with you that it hurts. I've been yours for so long and I never said anything. Fuck, I-I'm sorry. I love you so much. I'm sorry. I-"

You bring his face to yours once more, shushing him with a kiss that makes him putty in your hands. You tell him that it's okay, and you kiss him like you forgive him. The world could be ending right now, and he doesn't think that either of you would even care very much.

Because you're the only wish of his life, and you kiss him as though you want to make up for the lost years. Because Minho feels like he's 18 again and you're the most beautiful girl in the world, wearing a smile that leaves him breathless in the most wonderful way possible.

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 06.05.2024]

[reiderwriter]

Let Me Love You, Baby

Chapter 7 of That's What You Get Prev Chap // Next Chap

Warnings: Oral (M and F receiving), nipple play, handcuffing, BDSM themes, dom! Spencer, sub! Reader, breeding kink, creampie, handcuffing, a variety of PinV sex positions, multiple orgasms, squirting mention, mentions of different types of orgasms involving penetrative sex and anal sex. 18+ MINORS DNI Summary: Your memories of your wedding night come back. Not all of them, just the interesting ones.

A/N: If you're enjoying this series please PLEASE let me know in the comments! I've really been loving the theories about who the other witness is and I've changed my mind like three times on who it is eventually going to be BUT I've made up my mind now and I think it's going to be a great reveal lmao. This chapter has been on my mind since I started the series and I'm so happy you can all finally read it, but it is also A Lot of sex because every time I had a thought, I wrote it down and then didn't self-edit lmao. You can find my masterlist here, the series masterlist in the link above, and if you enjoy my smut, think about checking out my kinktober masterlist or my AO3 account for daily spicy content next month! <3

You stumbled, drunk, into the room, not sure in the haze if it was yours or his. The card had passed between you in many hushed giggles through the hall as you eagerly pulled each other forward. Falling onto the bed, you let out a contented sigh as Spencer fell next to you, face first into the sheets with a small laugh. 

“I can’t believe we did that!” You grinned, meeting his eyes as he turned his head towards you. “We’re married!” 

“We are.” He smiles, and you can’t help but let your eyes fall to his lips, swollen and pink from your earlier enjoyment of one another. You start to laugh, not fully understanding why, but thinking it probably had a lot to do with the alcohol you’d consumed. Bringing a hand up to his face, you let a finger run over the corner of his mouth, wiping away a tiny splash of red you’d deposited earlier. 

“Your lips are swollen.” 

“Whose fault is that?” He leans in and catches your lips again in his and you squeal at the sudden contact, excited to feel him against you again. He’s soft and gentle at first, but as you gasp underneath him your breaths get shorter, stopping just shy of moans as you let your hands trail up and down his body. But the edge of the bed is uncomfortable, so you push him off, following his lips still as he pushes himself further up, straddling his waist as you let yourself melt into him. 

“How did this happen again?” You ask, memory already feeling a little fuzzy, as you think back on the stressful few weeks you’ve had and how much better this feels. How nice it is to have someone underneath you, pressed against you, holding you. 

“Is that important right now?” He asks, lips seeking yours again as you turn your head just as he tries to connect, giggling at his pout. 

“You know, I always thought getting married would be this whole huge thing. Hundreds of guests, 18 months of stress while planning, you never really know on the day if the man you’re attempting to lock down is actually going to be on the other end of that aisle or if he’s bolted somewhere.” His lips are carving a path down your throat as you talk, memorizing the peaks and falls of every inch of your skin, committing you to memory like a prayer. 

“A man would have to be absolutely stupid to leave you at the alter, Y/N.” He says those words that prick your heart so easily, worming his way in, without even breaking his lips away from their spot on your collarbone. 

“Then if he didn’t leave, he’d be too drunk to perform on the wedding night, and so the entire day would end up just being a bust anyway.” He smiles into his final kiss, letting it linger against your skin as he pulls away and looks into your eyes. 

“How drunk are you, Spencer?” Your voice falls to a hush as you shift your weight in his lap, opening your legs just a smidge wider, shifting forward so more of you is falling over his clothed member, pressing up against him as close as possible. 

“You’re talking too much,” he growled out, and, grabbing you by the neck, pulled you into another heated kiss. This one isn’t giggles and soft sighs, it’s a clash of teeth and tongue and desperation, and you suddenly have the answer to your question as you feel him stiffen beneath you. Grinding down into him, you let him take control of your actions, letting him tell you when you can come up for air. 

When he finally pulls away from you, you stay connected through a line of saliva stretching from your lolling tongue to his mouth. He breaks it with his thumb, forcing the digit into your mouth as you suck your shared mess from him. 

“Definitely not too drunk.” 

You couldn’t help yourself then, as you pulled his thumb from your mouth and shifted your body down the bed until your face was parallel to his crotch, beginning to palm him in his trousers. 

“If we’re married,” you say, popping the button on his pants open. “We should probably get to know each other's… preferences early on. Stop any future arguments from occurring, right?” You looked up at him through hooded eyes, plastering the most sinful smile you could muster on your face. He stayed quiet, but you felt him twitch underneath your hand, and decided that was response enough. 

“You can bite me and scratch me if you want. I like it. Pull my hair, spank me, choke me until I’m begging to cum. I like all of it. You’re in control now, Spencer. You can do whatever you want with me, so long as it ends with your cum down my throat or stuffed inside me.” Finishing your speech, confidence fueled by alcohol and the buzz of your wedding vows, you slip his cock from its cloth prison and take it directly into your mouth. 

It’s thicker than you expected, and you just sit with the tip of it in your mouth for a second, trying to find a comfortable position. When you finally do, you push slowly down on it, letting your tongue tease and trace a path down. You don’t make it to the base before you’re pulling off, reaching what you expect to be your max about halfway down. You set a rhythm for yourself, hands pumping the rest of him as you coax the cum from him. 

He gives you three minutes of fun before he decides that you need a little help reaching your full potential. Fisting a hand into your hair, and cradling the back of your neck in his other, he stills your motions before pushing you further down his cock, bypassing your gag reflex as your throat battles against the position he’s put you in, your nose tickled against his soft curls. 

“Okay, let’s talk preferences. I’d prefer it if you ask permission before you touch something, whether that be me or yourself. I’d prefer if you used a safe word if this all gets a bit much for you. And I’d prefer you to relax that little throat of yours so I can fuck a load of my seed down it baby, okay?” He pulls you up by the hair and you nod, rasping out a yes as you gasp for air. 

“Safeword is profile, tap twice if you need air.” And with that, he’s fucking your face again, pushing and pulling you by your hair as your mouth leaks spit. This was going to be a moment you’d never forget, the taste of his precum at the back of your throat, burning its way down. 

Shrugging off his pants completely, he keeps at his movements, your head still working over him like you’re simply a fleshlight for his personal use. He grunts and twitches into you, signaling his impending release, and you try to ready yourself for the sting of the liquid hitting the back of your throat. He cums hot and fast, and you swallow around him, but there’s so much, it spills out of your mouth quickly, dripping down your chin and neck. 

“Good girl. You listen to instructions well.” He pulls you up to his lap again as he begins undressing you, not bothering to wipe his cum from your mouth. 

In a matter of seconds, he has you completely bare for him. Pulling your legs further up, he lets your torso fall back into the bed before shimmying himself down, coming face-to-face with your core. 

“You remember the rules?” He asks, and you nod, answering his question. 

“No touching, safe word is profile. Is that it?” 

“One more thing. You’re not allowed to cum until I say so, okay?” You let out a moan of discontent then, but he shuts you up with a light slap to your face, coming up to press a kiss to your lips before traveling south again. 

“Relax for me, baby,” he says as he spreads your legs and stretches out his tongue to finally come in contact with your needy core. His tongue is skilled, and you almost immediately break one of his rules as you arch off the bed, trying your best not to suffocate him between your thighs as you search for ways to heighten this pleasure. 

He wastes no time being gentle, just fully eating you out like it was his job to make you cum on his face. His tongue stretched from your clit to your hole, flattening out and writhing in equal amounts as your pleasure built to a frenzy. Your hands gripped into the sheets and you clung to the single thought that maybe a punishment from your new husband wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. 

Your hands drift to his hair, gripping tightly as you begin bucking into his mouth, completely lost in your base desires. He quickly grips your hands and pins them to the bed again though, pulling away just before you even think about climaxing against his face. 

“Spencer,” you beg, your moans sounding like the sobs of a spoiled child. 

“You broke a rule, princess. I can’t just let you get away with that.”  You moan at the loss of contact, your voice whinier than you'd ever heard it. 

He left the bed entirely then, and you lifted your head up to follow his path to the drawers by the side of the bed. Opening it, he picked up the wedding license you'd discarded on the floor, placing it nearly inside and slowly pulling out a pair of handcuffs. Your standard FBI set, not something light, flimsy, and cushioned with fluff, these were hard and cold against your skin as he returned to the bed. 

"Wait, S-Spencer…. Really?" You panicked as he pulled one arm over your head placing it parallel with the headboard, trapped between the slats. He tightened the cuff around your hand, leaving one free as he started kissing down your arm, down to your shoulder and into the hollow of your neck. 

"Yes, really. Now since you want to use that other hand so badly, why don't you use it to get yourself off." You swallowed the spit in your mouth, and nodded at him, before doing just as he asked, picking up where his hands had gotten off. 

He shifted to sitting just by your side, lifting your body half on top of him, your back pressed up against his chest as he watched over your shoulder as your hand-worked you into a frenzy. Bringing both of his hands around your body, he started playing with your nipples, rolling them between his fingers, pulling and fondling your breasts as your breathing became more labored. 

"There are seven different female orgasms, you know. The clitoral orgasm, the G-spot orgasm, the blended orgasm, the anal orgasm, the A-spot orgasm, a purely psychological orgasm, and," he leaned down closer to your ear to finish his sentence. "The nipple orgasm." You struggled against the handcuff as you felt the tightness build in your chest, but he grabbed and held your other hand close to him as he pushed up on top of you again. 

"How many do you think you'll get tonight, Y/N?" He asked, lowering his head back to your chest as you bucked your hips wildly, trying to feel him in between your legs. 

He pushed down your hips and kept his attention on your chest, your brain going fuzzy with the contact as the orgasm that had been imminent kept growing until you couldn't stop it from rushing over you, chumming with his attention solely on your chest. 

"You didn't answer my question?" He brought his head up, frowning slightly as you blinked your eyes open and focused on his shape above you. 

"Did you read some kind of sex book, Spencer? Jesus Christ that was…" You couldn't say anything else and he chuckled from above you. 

"I didn't read one, I've read multiple, and it's less reading and more committing to absolute memory." He swooped back down to your lips. "Answer the question, how many do you think you'll get tonight?"

"Two?" You ask vaguely, immediately opening your mouth back up to keep rambling. "But Spencer I've never really had more than one with another person and I'm not sure if I even can-" 

"You can. You will. You promised to listen to me, remember?" You flushed at his words, choosing simply to just nod for him instead of trusting your tongue to spit out the right words. 

"Good girl," he says, wrapping your legs around him, and running his cock through your folds, holding it there as he teased you. 

"I don't have to use a condom, right? You want me to drop my load directly into you, right? We're married now, so I can just fuck my seed into you, hmm?" You moaned out, begging for him to just push into you, to keep his promises and pleasure you again and again. 

"Hands in the sheets baby, come on, no touching remember?" You did as you were told, and with another kiss to your lips, tongues locking in your battle, he thrust his entire length into you in one movement. 

A scream of pleasure ripped out of you, just as quick and fast as you were sure you ripped the sheets of the bed, your sharp nails digging in for dear life as you struggled against the desire to hold him against you. 

"That's it, princess. That's it." He starts thrusting, snapping his hips up, and slowly pulling himself out again. For a moment, it was like you weren't breathing at all, his body feeding you everything you needed to sustain yourself. Lungs burning, you gulped in large breaths of him. His tongue swallowed each and every complaint, as he shared in your pleasure. 

He wasn't afraid to be vocal, like some men you'd been with in the past, and the sounds of his pleasure echoed out louder than your own. He was moaning in your ear, telling you how beautiful you looked on him as he pounded into you relentlessly. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead as he slapped into you again and again. 

His hand came up to your face as he grew closer to his climax, pushing his fingers back into your mouth as he turned your face further against the pillow. Your spit dribbled out of your mouth as you moaned around his fingers, pussy clenching on his dick as you felt your embarrassment rise. 

"So pretty and messy," he mumbled, hips keeping his pace up. 

"Did you make sure to swallow all of my cum earlier baby? Because if there was any of it left on my cock, I'm fucking it into you. Going to drop another load next to it so you can feel me knock you up." 

Unlike your first orgasm, you don't feel this one coming, you just know that he's hitting a spot so deep that it's never been reached before and saying the exact words that are pulling it closer to you, and then you're ecstasy has you squirting around his dick. 

"That's right. There you go, baby, lay nice and calm there, I need to keep going."

You were overstimulated, already feeling your desire burn a path through you again. He pulled out though, but made it clear that his intention was just to switch the positions of your bodies. 

Making sure not to twist your locked-up arm uncomfortably, he laid on the bed and pulled your fucked out body on top of him. You shivered at his touch and he pulled you further into his embrace warming you up. 

Your chest was pressed against his back, your head rolled back on his shoulder as he gently coaxed your legs apart one more time. 

"That's it, baby, you're listening so well. Just push your legs apart for me, okay?" You did as he asked, and he pressed your legs further up and apart, grabbing into the flesh of your thighs as he aligned his dick with your aching pussy and pressed into you one more time. 

The new angle had you moaning around you, as he encouraged you to start lifting your hips up and down, as he trusted up into you, your eyes rolling back into your head as he hit an electric point inside of you. He grabbed your hand to steady you as you moved to a seated position, letting your heels dig into the bed as you began riding him.

You were so tired that it didn't last long though, your hips stuttering awkwardly. 

"It's okay, Y/N, I'll do the rest, you just stay right there." From his place underneath you, he kept your thighs from above him as he thrust into you just as quickly as before, somehow maintaining his stamina despite the edging, the alcohol, and the energy you'd already exerted. 

Just as you were really about to lose your mind, he pulled out again, escaping from beneath you and gently laying you back on the bed. 

"One more position, princess, and then we can rest. You've been so good for me, you can do this, right? Can let me drop all of my cum inside you?" You nodded another sleepy yes, eyes somewhere between closed and open. There was no strength left in your body to stiffen up as he began moving your now malleable body into position, but that doesn't mean you didn't let out a moan at the way he'd stretched you out. 

Pushing your legs apart again, he's settled between them, but instead of letting them wrap around him, he'd kept hold of them, pushing your knees up still until they were on either side of your chest. He kissed away complaints and approvals that didn't come and slowly pushed into you again. 

He was evidently close, by the way he was drawing this out now. His fingers found your clit as his cock slowly worked in and out of you, the snap of his hips completely controlled and even in tempo. 

"Just keep doing that, Spence, oh my god," you begged, words suddenly returning to you. His fingers on your clit increased in pressure, but his pace otherwise didn't change, and you soon felt that third orgasm ripple through you, finally leaving you with no more to give. 

Your last fall from grace had him following you swiftly after, his lips finding yours as he crashed back down on top of you, hips stuttering as he drank you in like wine. 

The rest was a blur, really, sleep having claimed you so swiftly that you barely remember the words he had definitely whispered to you as soon as he caught his breath again. 

"I love you. It's always been you." 

Other than a vague recollection of him rearranging your legs so you wouldn't struggle to walk the next day, and the sensation of a cold, damp cloth on your skin, nothing besides remained. 

–X– 

It's unfortunate, really, that the memory came to you when you did, his lips on yours heating you up in a way that made you absolutely want to relive every experience he had given you. But paralyzed with shock, you'd had only one recon to choose a reaction, and out of fight, flight, fawn, or freeze, you'd gone for slam the door in his fucking face. 

Not your finest moment. 

Which is why after two minutes of listening to his confusion on the other side of the hall, your brain kicked back into gear and you started weighing your options. 

It would be wrong to open the apartment doors and pull him back in, right? It would certainly be wrong to pull him in and demand a re-do of the first time you'd forgotten. Would he even want to redo doing it with you? And what did he mean when he said "I love you." 

It was those words more specifically that scared you. You'd both been absolutely intoxicated when you'd fallen into the wedding chapel together and still remarkably unstable afterward presumably. There was a high likelihood that he hadn't known what he was saying, and taking a risk on a friendship for half a memory and wishful thinking wasn't a great calculation. 

But gripping the door handle, you realized your body had made the decision for you, completely overwhelmed by the need to see him again. 

When you opened the door, no one was there. Your phone pinged with a text as you looked around disappointedly, not finding him anywhere. Looking down at your phone, you cursed your own stupidity as you read his message. 

"Sorry. I won't do that again."

You typed out explanations and deleted them over and over for what seemed like an hour, guilt eating you up. 

Eventually, you threw your phone down in resignation, and, grabbing your groceries, started frantically planning your next steps. 

Step one: wallow in your own misery. 

Step two: crack open the single bottle of red wine in your pantry. 

Step three: beg for heavenly guidance. 

After the wine was opened, you picked up the phone again and shot off a quick emergency message to Penelope. 

"Pen, need help, may have just ruined EVERYTHING with Reid because I remembered our wedding night mid-kiss - long story. Mine, now? Xx"

You couldn't stand to look at your phone after that, putting it on silent and assuming the single time it flashed was confirmation that Penelope was on her way. After half an hour, you sprang from your seat at the sound of the door, making your way back to the scene of your most recent number one embarrassing memory. 

Only opening the door to Emily Prentiss, you were sure you'd just dethroned yourself. 

"You're going to have to start from the beginning or explain to me that that message had multiple typing errors, because just when did you and Reid get married, and why is it suddenly over now?" 

--X--

🏷️ Pt 1 @w-windy @multifandom-on-the-side @reidandhotchsgirl @babybluecakes @hugyourlungs @prentissesredtanktop @reidscaffeine @bethanyhaas01 @average-sunflower @academiareid @sailortongue @daddy-dotcom @high-functioning-cosplayer @anniewhalelover @abbyshmaby @isabel-ffl-xoxo @sujan39 @frxcless @bluestuesday @busy-buzzing @breadbrobin @maxinehufflepuffprincess @l0v3cam @booksandwonderlands @myescapefromthislife @ferrjulie @scoobydoopoo @aelinismyqueen @littlesingingbean @jamiemuscatosslut @xohoneybun @anchovy89freya @dysphoricsanity @ghostheartbeat @casss2111 @rebloggiest-reblogger @wishyoudaskme @imawhoreforu @academiacoffeelover @softservepunk @andiebeaword @r-3dlips @wakaladjarin @ratbastardchild @mcira

@danika1994 @stargurl99 @whovianwholikesgirls @its-not-too-late-for-coffee @doriantomybasil

[sukunasweetheart]

oddly specific relationship headcanons with sukuna pt. 2

part 1 here

modern AU, fem!reader, sukuna being an ass as usual (affectionately)

sukuna is a food stealer. he'd rummage through ur home for snacks or food like some raccoon going through the trash. not necessarily bc hes hungry, sometimes it's bc he wants something to chew on, other times its bc he wants to judge your tastes and/or shame you. if ur fridge and cupboards are empty, with barely anything other than a bottle of ketchup in it, he will quite literally give you a silent stare bc hes simply speechless... he will say youre boring, then hes gna get concerned on whether ur eating well or not...

other than going through the things u have at home, he will also take large bites and mouthfuls of whatever you're holding onto outside. be it ice cream, bubble tea, a burger, corndog- he just wants a bite of whatever youre having! he'd then have the audacity to rate it, telling you "hmm, not bad" or "this shit tastes horrible". sometimes he just does it to piss u off, he's just like that.

if you tried the same against him, you'd have to either catch him off guard (nigh impossible) or just beg and plead until hes satisfied enough to share his snack as a treat. otherwise, he's holding the item above ur head and laughing at you. maybe if you pout he'll then finally bend down and give a little smooch on your lips before offering you some.

another thing he loves doing is draping himself all over you... full body weight if youre lying down, leaning against you fully if youre sitting, or resting his chin or arm over your head/shoulder if youre standing. just. using u as a support bc this man is so comfortable with using u as a resting tool HAHA and i know this man heavy as fuck bro *sobs* if u complain abt it, it only fuels him more... (me personally, i'd love if he put his whole body weight on me... pls crush me)

he likes feeling u squirm against him and yelling for help bc ur getting squished LMAO and also, most of the time you can't support his weight for long and you slowly sink down... he always enjoys watching u lose against him one way or another...

i already mentioned previously that he likes playfully smacking your ass around the house but i'll also add on that he likes to just grope and massage different parts of your body randomly when the two of you are lounging about together, not even sexually, he'll just squeeze at your flesh bc he feels like it and he likes the bouncy sensation. cue one hand groping ur ur tiddies/thighs/tummy while he idly scrolls through his phone

hes very independent when he wants to be independent. but hes also clingy as fuck when he's in the mood to be. one second he could be fine with doing his own thing, but all of a sudden he's craving your attention the next. he's content with being by himself one moment but then the itching desire to be next to you comes around and he does just that. watch out bc the second u get comfortable, he'll probably change his mind again and head back to continue whatever he was doing again

if you do the same against him, coming and going as you please, he's a lot more resistant as opposed to you... while you just let him do whatever he wants (most of the time, anyway) he will be his teasing self as always. he's in the middle of something and you wanna cuddle him all of a sudden? he expects to be rewarded afterwards (something lust related, probably). you wanna get up and leave after getting your fill of the cuddles? too bad, he's too comfortable now, youre not leaving til he's satisfied. he's just a selfish bastard, what can i say

one last thing, i think i mentioned this in some post before but anyway.. sukuna's 100% the type of mf to show a lot of his softer love while youre SLEEPING. be it forehead kisses, caressing your cheek, just admiring your facial features or thumbing your lips. maybe even leaving a little kiss on them. brushing aside any strands of hair. but he'd also pinch your nose and chuckle when you eventually open ur mouth to breathe LMFAOAOA <3 just languidly admiring ur sleeping face <3

Masterlist

[snickerdoodie]

Any hc’s for Scott (twisters) who is only not an asshole when he’s around his s/o? Others see him being sweet to her and are like wtf why can’t be be that nice to us 🥲

No cause I’ve also been obsessed with that idea of him for so long, ahhh. He seems like such a “I care about you and you only” kinda guy and it just fuels my obsession

A/N: this is my first time ever writing anything like head canons so if it’s goofy I apologize in advance. Not proofread as usual. Also I really hope it was anything like you expected 😭. But anyway, enjoy!

Scott Miller Headcanons

Right off the bat, I think we can all agree talking is not one of Scott’s strong suits. The only times he really talks is when he’s proposing ideas to Riggs and Javi about potential deals. So when the team finds him willingly chatting with you after a day of collecting data, they all just short circuit.

Like hello?? Are they dreaming??? Wtf going on???? Like out of everybody to talk to you choose him??? And they’re not even mad they’re just..they have no clue what to think, they’ve never seen him look so at ease before lmao. There’s no permanent scowl on his face or anything, just his baritone voice mixing with your own. Ngl it creeped them out at first, they really thought the world was ending that night.

Javi’s the first to really notice the changes in Scotts demeanor around you; the quick glances, the ever so slight smiles, and even the smallest touches like his thumb rubbing over the back of your hand when he’s giving a speech, he’s seen it all.

Speaking of, I just know that Scott’s love language has got to be either words of affirmation or physical touch. He loves hearing you tell him how much he matters to you, or how you remember small things about him, it just makes him smile. For him being a not very vocal person, it’s hard for him to tell you straight up how much he cares for you. It doesn’t even have to be gentle or meaningful words, making witty comebacks to his sarcastic remarks is always enough for him.

But his way of expressing his affection is through small touches. Standing close enough to you where you can smell his cologne, brushes of his fingers to your waist or hand, overall just standing close to you. (Now that I think abt it, that’s a looot more like quality time but whatever☺️)

Anyway, back on topic cuz I’m too easily distracted. The crew really tried their hardest to get Scott to even be remotely nice to them after that. I mean if he was nice to you then he could be nice to them right? Can’t be that hard. Boy oh boy were they wrong…they literally did everything in their power. They bought him coffees on early mornings, made sure he has the nicest, or as nice as they could be, bed sheets at motels, volunteered to do his dirty work of pages and pages of paperwork, but literally nothing worked. All they ever got were blank stared nods or a grumbled ‘thanks.’ At this point they were flabbergasted. How could you get that cocky bastard to even glance at you?? Nevertheless smile at you?

They have up like 5 days after trying lmfao, it was utterly useless to try and make that man any less brooding then he is. After trying through, they realized that all their attempts didn’t go completely wasted.

Scott brought you hot drinks on the chilly nights and morning as you two sat together in the crappy hotel rooms. Stopped smacking his gum whenever you side-eyed him a little too hard, much to everyone’s relief. Always walked you to your room after a late night to make sure you got there safe.

As much as they hated how self centered and blunt Scott was, they all secretly knew how love drunk he was about you. (Don’t bring it up to him, but they’re all secretly jealous they dont get any kind of special treatment

First head canon ask!! I do not think I did very good at it though💀💀. I had ideas in my head but they were not coming out the way I ask. But I hoped you at least liked some of it! I promise to write a better one in the future!

And as always, feel free to comment about anything you liked or didn’t like. Inbox is always open to more ideas! <3

[lyneira]

♡ Things they'd do to gain your affection ♡

-> what would these twst boys do to show their love for you?

feat. malleus, azul, leona

MALLEUS

Okay, the real question is: what is Malleus NOT doing to gain your love? This dude will literally try anything and everything he can to show you he loves you.

Well, maybe he's not going to directly say "I love you and I want to be with you forever" just yet. He doesn't want to scare you away. So he's going to go for a lighter attack.

He'll invite you to his parties, to his homeland, invite you to go on walks/ruin exploring, and send you thoughtful letters (as he already does for Yuu in the game lmao)

He's also going to show up in places you wouldn't expect him to be, which tended to be wherever you were lol. While he'll look for more ways to spend more time with you, he also wants to help you with whatever task you have at hand.

As for words, he'd probably often compliment you and mention how much he admires you. And if you had low self-esteem? He would do so all the more. He'd be shocked if you had low self-esteem. He just couldn't understand it and he wouldn't stop until he got you to believe him. All his words would be genuine and true, he wouldn't flatter you falsely. He isn't the type. He simply would want you to see yourself the way he sees you- so beautiful and so worthy of love.

He will try to make his affections known as much as he can. He wants everyone to know that his eyes are set on you, so he's not going to want to be discreet about it.

AZUL

Another massive simp right here! If Azul ever fell for you, he'd fall hard. I honestly think Azul would be second to Malleus on the simp scale LMAO.

However, unlike Malleus, he'd try to be more discreet about it and would try to put on a cool front despite the great ardor he's feeling for you inside.

Azul would use his acquired knowledge of you to his advantage, figuring out all of your likes, dislikes, preferences, and would make sure to act accordingly to them. (nevertheless, he'll still try to learn even more about you and your subtleties face to face. It was more pleasant that way)

The Mostro lounge suddenly came up with a specialty dish based on your favorite food? That's great! That means you can come on over there more often.

Are you having difficulty studying for a certain subject? You're in luck! Turns out that he's got some helpful study notes laying around and he's willing to give them to you. He'll even offer to help you study, saying that it's just a show of gratitude for being a loyal customer at the Mostro Lounge.

And your favorite color? Well that so happens to be the color of the napkins/tablecloths at the Lounge during the month of your birthday.

He's gonna try to act slick but it would be plain to see that he's in love with you. It would be especially obvious to Jade and Floyd as they see how Azul treats you differently. He's doing all these favors and little things for you without any practical benefit. Why?

If confronted about it by Jade or Floyd, he'll say that he simply felt like doing it "out of the goodness of his heart", or that the tablecloths needed changing anyway, or some other excuse. He'll honestly act like such a tsundere.

But if YOU confront him about it- now that's a different case. As always, he'll try to act all cool and suave, but if you thank him with the warmest smile on your face or even hug him, he'll melt and get all red.

On the other hand, if you tell him that you're suspicious of him, he'll be a little hurt that you think that he has some bad ulterior motive behind his actions (though, in his head he will admit that he couldn't blame you)

All he wants is to see you face all aglow when you see what he's doing for you. Pay him back with your happiness and that'd be enough for him (for now)

LEONA

He'll hang around you very often. He would think that his prsence is enough to get you to fall for him LOL 💀

Nah but in all seriousness, if Leona loved you, he'd show it through his patience and tolerance for you. We know this guy doesn't like being bothered or going through any trouble, but he'd make an exception even if you were the "troublesome thing"

He'll allow you to bother him to an extent far greater than he'd allow others.

He'll listen to you yap away about your day, any complaints that you have, anything you're interested in, he'll listen to it all while closing his eyes. You might think he's sleeping, but I can assure you he's not. He's taking in all of your words and storing them in his head. He's learning more about you this way while he can sit back and relax (quite literally). He also enjoys simply hearing your voice. It relaxes him. It's when you stop talking that he'll finally open his eyes and see what's gotten you distracted.

He will also tolerate your tomfoolery. Heck, if it interests him enough and it isn't too much of a bother, he'll join you. He will aid you in your plans to disturb the peace and you two would be absolute menaces to the other students of NRC hehe #partnersincrime

He'll let you run your fingers through his mane and let your touch his ears as much as you want. While you're enjoying the softness and fluffiness of it, he'll also be relaxed by it as well. But be gentle with his ears, they're sensitive! If you rub or scratch a certain spot, you just might hear a soft purr from him. He'll deny that you ever heard such a thing though, teehee 🤭

a/n: I decided to switch things up a bit instead of writing the usual "how to gain their affection" stuff! Most of the hcs here parallel the hcs on there tbh lol. Thought they'd be cute tho

© 2023 lyneira. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, PLAGIARIZE, OR REPOST MY WRITING ONTO OTHER PLATFORMS

[burnorgetburned]

okay. OKAY. I JUST WANT TO SAY.

NEW MUSIC STYLE. NEW ART STYLE. NEW MAGIC SYSTEM, NEW GIRLS, MORE CLARA DOLLS, MORE HOMURA OUTFITS, MORE EVERYONE OUTFITS, and AAHAHAHAHSGH.

Homura wins by style points alone.

Anyway. Choice screenshots and my thoughts on them. Plus a few wild theories. Replies, tags, and your own reactions are VERY welcome.

(You're doing great, sweetie!)

First of all, I’ve already said this, but Homura has usurped Kyubey. She is the contractor in this new system. She calls magical girls and asks them if they can bear the responsibility of fighting (LEAGUES better than Kyubey's misleading BE A HERO language), using a magical lizard phone. She knows better than anyone else how heavy this is.

And she looks amazing while doing it. Look at that outfit! Look at her steampunk-esque aesthetic! Her throne. Which, notably, has glowing magenta eyes and her wings as a backrest.

The moon is either actually, physically repurposed, or she’s made something that looks like it. Not only that, but the pins going into the moon are exactly like the pins that went into her soul gem when she was being experimented upon in Rebellion. Those pins, according to the artbook, are for draining her gem of grief to keep her just before the point of witching.

Well, here’s my first wild speculation: Homura has not only taken over Kyubey’s job as a contractor but also its job of disposing of grief. That moon steampunk device is maybe for collecting, concentrating, and distilling grief into energy - hence the strange tesla coils connected to red liquid in the second screenshot above. She's doing what Kyubey says it's doing - turning the grief of people into energy to prolong the universe's lifespan.

I for one support her reality-warping shenanigans.

Here are some voices over a phone, sometimes speaking over each other, sometimes together. They call Homura “Akuma-sama” (!!!) which is a distinct upgrade from calling her Good-For-Nothing. They say “Just bring hope” like a mission statement. Are these her contracted girls? Or her Clara Dolls? They seem to show her a lot of respect.

I’ve also said this, but I strongly feel that this and the girl shown later are some of Homura’s new contractees. Their magic is darker. It warps the world around them, even. Their outfits incorporate black a lot more, too, though that might be the lighting.

Look at the little sigil on the top left-middle! Looks a lot like Homura’s lizard sigil shown when she was consuming the universe, just with a longer lizard.

And, of course, the image of Madoka throwing herself off of a building. “Wraith” and “Legend of Bestie” (lmao) show up here. I’ve actually been really looking forward to seeing what they’ll do with Madoka’s… self-sacrificial tendencies, so this might be part of that. Or, because of “Wraith”, it’s… well, I’ll get to that later.

On the other hand, it might not be Madoka. It might be the girl who the speaker in the phone call calls her "best friend", jumping to her death because of a wraith, and Homura saving her to fulfill a wish.

So glad that the insane architecture from Rebellion is making a comeback. Love what you’ve done with the place, Homura. Look at all those cranes!

The outfit changes are very cool to me. I honestly don’t have speculation for why Sayaka is covered in bandages, but I do have speculation for the changes!: they’re older. Years have passed. Since they’ve changed and grown, their outfits have changed, too. I don't have proof of this - I just like the idea.

Light shines down on Madoka. Petals fall towards her as flowers bloom above. Behold, Homura's extremely subtle and inscrutable feelings. (Sorry for the blurry Madoka, but I am not going through the ordeal of uploading screenshots to my computer again because Tumblr does not like mobile users).

Homura is apparently waiting for Madoka here. She's standing right in the fountain's water and holding a Victorian umbrella like a vampire. Right now we can see that the visuals of this movie will not miss.

Is this a routine thing for them or is Homura just showing up to greet them this one time, for some reason? No clue. Madoka's expression as she notices Homura could indicate either.

Eagle-eyed people on Twitter noticed this, but in these shots, Sayaka already has her bandages.

Aside from the multiple and/or teleporting Homuras, there's also a Clara Doll in a ballerina dress and a cute Clara Doll peering over the side of the tower like a little kid.

The tower is interesting. It appears to be made of books or pages, and there's chains throughout it. More notably, it's in the shape of a helix - infinity symbols on top of each other.

Please appreciate these Clara Dolls. I'm sure they're working hard.

But seriously, those Clara Dolls' details. One has a witch's hat. One has an apple on its head. And the one with a teacup appears to have not only a lizard's tail but a replica of Homura's Devil outfit. Appreciate them!

Here is Homura(?), lounging or trapped on a chair filled with even more of those pins. Look at her closely. She's wearing a strange combination of her magical girl outfit and her Devil outfit - her shoulders are bare, and she has... feathers? She's sitting on a bunch of nails. But she also has two soul gems - one in her hand, and one hanging from her neck.

Is she cleansing them? Eating them? Holding people hostage? I don't know, but I support her completely.

She looks so tired.

So: here's some of what I think might be going on.

Homura is using wraiths to repress her worst memories. We know already that wraiths take memories and emotions from their victims. Well, there's no reason it can't be used as extremely terrible coping! Homura actually does this in the Wraith Arc, too - she lets a wraith take her feelings for Madoka.

If it is Madoka, it explains the shot with Madoka throwing herself off a builing - what if Homura has seen this happen in the loops, and out of pain lets a wraith pull it right out of her? The shot says "WRAITH" and billows with smoke. A wraith could have taken Madoka's form to act out this memory. And it doesn't need to be a memory - it could also represent Madoka's self-sacrifice and almost suicidal tendencies. This, too, would explain the multiple Homuras. All wraiths using her form.

This puts forward powerful enemies for the plot, as well as an interesting point of literally fighting Homura's demons. Most importantly, this lets everyone see Homura's pain.

Other wild dartboard speculations:

Homura will try and present herself as a villain. This is, honestly, kind of guaranteed, but it bears mentioning that her magical girls will be very likely to try to defend her.

Kyubey may appear to try and turn the girls against Homura.

Homura made the new magical girl who is drawing a bow. She has a lot of design choices from the Quintet, and people have already noticed how much she looks like Madoka. This new girl plays a role of the hero to Homura's pretend-villain, eliminating the risk that her friends will get seriously hurt.

The new magical girl is actually Madoka. Or the Law of Cycles. Or Kriemhild Gretchen.

The girl who jumps from the tower is a contractee being asked to take a leap of faith. She does so, and Homura rewards her with magic.

[vigilskeep]

wait, Minerva "canonically" has a baby?? i want to know everything!! when how what - how does motherhood change her, pls elaborate, srry if you talked about this before, i just love them so much

she does!! i talk abt this less bc i think its self-indulgent jghsskks and that people are less interested in this, but it’s super fun to think about for me

the baby was a surprise, minerva was kind of being stupid about it lmao because she was being less careful than she might have been in the circle, especially because she’s a warden now so she’s less likely to get pregnant at all, without really thinking through what might happen. (i’m sure our local kinloch hold spirit healer companions both had their field days telling her off for this at some point.) but as soon as it does happen she wants the baby so badly. as a circle mage and then a warden she had never really seriously considered it a possibility for herself, but she loves children, and it’s been so long since she had a real family

it’s zevran’s and zevran is in antiva most of the time. i think she has a weird crisis about whether he’ll want anything to do with a baby, and she would despise for him to come back just out of obligation but also what if he doesn’t come back, and she ends up procrastinating telling him for, like, months. just a stupid amount of time. bc she was born to stress her man out and to give her wardens unnecessary grudges against him because they thought he had obviously chosen not to be here because obviously she would have told him. truly when will his suffering end. anyway he’s thrilled when somebody eventually does him the courtesy of letting him know

the baby’s a boy, she names him duncan, it sparks a whole other argument with alistair that we won’t get into here. he gets nicknamed junior a lot, partly bc he’s duncan jr, partly bc of the ongoing joke that he’s the resident Junior Warden. he was very much raised in warden blue since the cradle. because minerva is so busy and zevran is often away, he’s pretty much collectively raised in vigil’s keep by the awakening squad and whoever else gets added to that trusted inner circle. which works out bc wardens don’t often have kids of their own so they all just kind of... share this one lmao. (and possibly sometimes also oghren and felsi’s kid if they stick around?) it’s velanna who instigates this bc that’s what the dalish do and she’s also literally the only one here who knows what to do with a baby so thank the maker she’s here (minerva’s practised with kids but by nature they don’t have babies in the circle)

i’m so thrilled that spellblade is a crow-themed rogue-like mage subclass bc that’s exactly what i always pictured for duncan jr eventually. he’s a mage, his magic manifests very young, but minerva is very strict abt his studies and it has the unfortunate reverse effect of making getting his dad or nathaniel or sigrun to teach him combat much more fun. it works out really bc his magic having manifested is a tightly kept secret so it’s good for him not to have to rely on it

being a mother kind of changes/crystallises a lot of minerva’s priorities. it’s one thing to say, like, i would like to improve the situation for my fellow mages at some point, or, it sure would be nice to live past a warden’s usual limits. it’s another thing entirely to have a mage child and need to make a world that’s safe for him and live long enough to see it done. it ends up being a key issue of her conflict with the chantry between origins and inquisition because nobody’s quite certain what the rules are. obviously if she were still a circle mage any child of hers would be taken away. but she’s not a circle mage and arguably the chantry has no right to a child born outside of the circle, with no sign yet (as far as anyone outside vigil’s keep knows) of magic. (like i say it manifested younger than normal so this is believable even to those who think he will eventually show.) it definitely exacerbates tensions, shall we say, because obviously they can pry him out of her cold dead hands

he’s probably still only quite young in inquisition. six or seven? somewhere around there, i hate timelines. not sure where he is while minerva and her squad are on their quest, but given the very short list of people she trusts that much, i have to say that the most insane answer is likely: he’s in denerim as a temporary ward of the king. probably the first elven kid to be such

[iwritefandomimagines]

HE’S NOT YOU — JAMIE TARTT

masterlist

pairing: jamie tartt x fem!reader

description: as a chelsea women’s player, you’re well acquainted with the men’s team too. given that before you signed for chelsea you had joked that mason mount was your only other footballer crush, jamie is less than impressed by your friendship.

warnings: swearing, jealous!jamie (can regular readers tell i’m a sucker for jealousy fics lmao), also ft. roy being an advice giving legend. soft in the end <3

author’s note: i picked mason because i love him lol sorry this was self-indulgent. based on a request for jealous jamie :-) enjoy & thank u as ever for reading x

“You comin’ over tonight then, babe?”

Jamie’s eyes bored into yours as his hands firmly gripped your waist, both of you leaning on the wall of the Richmond changing room about to head out.

You’d come to watch him train early, as you had the weekend off training yourself and wanted a little extra time with your boyfriend.

Well, that and you’d made evening plans with some of your Chelsea teammates and the men’s team too, and you didn’t want Jamie to be disappointed when you reminded him you were busy tonight.

“Sorry baby, I’ve got plans with the squad tonight, remember?” you pouted, and you watched his face drop, “I mean— you can come too if you’d like?”

“Is it just your squad or… like, Chelsea?”

You narrowed your eyes at this question, but before you could ask why it mattered, your phone buzzed and you pulled it out to see a message in your group chat.

MASON: what time did we agree again?

Jamie couldn’t help the way that his eyes snapped down to your phone, and you noticed the scowl that spread on his face at the sight of the message.

“Yeah, you know what, I will come,” he puffed out his chest a little, standing up straight and running a hand through his hair, “What’s the plan, princess?”

You were more than confused by his reaction, “Uh, we’re just going to get drinks somewhere. Are you alright? Why do you look like I’ve just hidden your hair products and not like I’ve invited you on a night out?”

He crossed his arms over his chest with a scoff, “I don’t. Am fine. Text me where to meet you and I’ll be there. See you later, babe.”

Before you could ask again why he was being so strange about this, he’d kissed you on the forehead and turned to leave.

“I’m guessing by the look on his face, that message was from Mason Mount?” suddenly Roy Kent had appeared at your side, his arms crossed and his brow quirked.

You nodded, but huffed as you replied, “Yeah it was. But what does that matter?”

You had been surprised with how close you’d become to Roy in the time that you’d known him — both as a legend at your own club and one at Richmond.

But, and in particular when you started dating Jamie, he’d been like an older brother to you — always checking in to make sure Jamie treated you right, giving you advice (as best as the grumpy old man could, anyway).

You were eternally grateful for how he treated you, though right now you had no fucking clue what he was talking about.

“C’mon, Y/N/N,” he raised his eyebrow even more, like you were an idiot for not realising the problem. Maybe you were, “Before you signed for Chelsea, you told Jamie that you had a thing for Mason. However stupid your little crush was, he’s obviously not happy that you’re friends with him now.”

Wow. Okay.

“We’re just friends, though, and it’s not like I’d be spending the night alone with him,” you frowned, feeling guilty that your boyfriend felt that way and that he didn’t feel that he could talk to you about it.

“It doesn’t help that Jamie’s had a tough season and your new star boy mate is this season’s top scorer (a/n: 😐 like i said, self-indulgent lol) and he plays for your club,” Roy shrugged like it was the most obvious thing in the world, “He just sees him as competition. And he’s not going to tell you that.”

Before he could react, you wrapped your arms around him in a hug, “Thanks Roy, you’re the best. I’m gonna go speak to him about it.”

“Oi, oi,” he pulled back a little, but not entirely as this was you, “Alright. Go get him out of his little tantrum. And say hi to the Chelsea lot for me.”

“Will do, Kent, will do.”

You pulled out your phone again as he walked away with a low chuckle.

Y/N: J, babe, where are you? can i come get ready at yours tonight please? x

JAMIE: you sure you want to? but yeah sure x

Y/N: don’t be daft, of course i do. i’ve got some stuff to do quickly and then i’ll be at yours, ok? x

JAMIE: ok, princess. see you soon x

You turned up to his house two hours later, and when you knocked the front door he answered in seconds, like he’d been anxiously waiting for you.

You slung your bag down from your shoulder, placing it by the front door and scooping your arms around your neck to kiss him, “Hey, baby.”

“Hiya,” he smiled, kissing you back for a moment, “What made ya want to come here and get ready?”

He seemed uncharacteristically shy as he asked this, as though he was worried about your answer.

“You want the honest answer?”

“Well, yeah. Course. Unless it’s bad. Is it bad?”

“Roy told me how you feel about me being mates with Mase,” okay, maybe you shouldn’t have called him that in this conversation, but you pressed on, “I wanted to talk to you about it, because I didn’t realise you felt like that.”

He swallowed thickly, frowning down at you as you followed him into the living room to continue the conversation.

“Is this the part where you tell me you’re seeing him behind me back or something? Or that you don’t want me to come tonight?”

You sighed, shaking your head and grabbing both of his hands in yours, “The opposite, J.”

He shrugged, “I’d get it. He’s Mason fuckin’ Mount and you’ve fancied him forever. At least his club don’t hate him (a/n: once again self indulgent here) and he’s scoring goals left right and fucking centre at the minute.”

Once again you hooked your arms around him, pulling him closer to you as you forced eye contact.

“Jam, I’m not seeing him and I wouldn’t want to. I have you, and you’re all I want. Sure, I do think you’re fit as fuck on the pitch, but I don’t just fancy you ‘cause you’re a good footballer,” you pleaded with him, and his face softened, “I don’t have a thing for Mason, and scoring goals is hardly gonna swing that for me. I joked that I thought he was attractive before I knew him, yeah, but he’s just a mate and I don’t look at him like that. He’s not you, Jamie, he’ll never be you.”

He seemed half-satisfied by this for a moment, before gritting his teeth and shaking his head, “He plays for your club though, you go for coffee all the time, you have a laugh with him while I’ve been a miserable prick ‘cause I’m playing like fuckin’ shit at the moment.”

It broke your heart to hear him say that, and suddenly you felt like an absolute arsehole for not noticing how he felt sooner and doing something about it.

“Who he plays for doesn’t matter, neither does the fact I like his company as a friend,” you pouted, “But I haven’t done a good enough job of making that clear, and I promise I’ll make sure I do in future because I never want you to feel insecure. I love you, J. Just you. And the fact that you’re struggling at the moment just makes me want to help you, not fuck you off for someone else.”

He kissed you softly, a sort of subtle thank you gesture for your words, even though you weren’t sure he entirely believed them.

He’d never been insecure before, always so certain of himself.

But when it came to you, he was always worried that he wasn’t good enough and you’d realise that eventually.

“We don’t have to go tonight, you know that yeah?” you asked, pushing a hair that had fallen from behind his hair band into his face, “We can do something just me and you. Or stay in.”

He shook his head, “Nah, we should go. It’ll be fun, and I probably should meet him without being a prick to him because I get so jealous that I usually am.”

“It’s fair enough,” you shrugged, “But he’s lovely, and he’s a big fan of you. Thinks you’re class, and wants you to sign for us if anything.”

This seemed to perk Jamie up more, both because it meant Mason was well aware you were taken and because he thought he was class.

“Maybe I should,” he smirked, kissing your nose.

“Now c’mon, if we’re going out I need to get ready,” you hummed, “I look like shit and if I’m going to show up with my hot boyfriend for the first time, I have to try and look at least slightly close to your league.”

He scoffed, “Don’t be daft, you’re gorgeous. World class. Can’t wait to show off my girl.”

You beamed, blushing crimson under his intense gaze before he leaned in and kissed you again.

“I can’t believe you’d think I’d ever want anyone else when I’ve got Jamie fuckin’ Tartt, eh?”

“You know what, princess, you’re right.”

—���—

thank you for reading !!! i hope this was okay, sorry if it’s a little messy but it was fun to write because i <3 soft jamie and also love mason mount ridiculous amounts lmao so this was based on a jealousy request but also v self indulgent.

if you have more requests please let me know — and in the meantime here is my masterlist!

[ratgrinders]

HIII i’m also a rat grinders fan in the “not interested in pretending they aren’t fucked up” but rather “interested in Why they are so fucked up” way 💥💥💥 i have Thoughts on how the shatterstar ritual affected the rat grinders in different ways and i wanted to know if u had any similar thoughts :3 - @teenagerebellion

THIS IS SUCH A GOOD ASK thank you for sending it!!!!!!!!

Ok so I AM gonna be working off the assumption that a rage crystal functions less like "mind control" and more so amplifying existing feelings to murderous extremes. Think Adaine in the mall fight when she's asked to picture "what would the world look like if all Adaine thought about was rage" and we see a destroyed Sylvaire from Adaine's search for her mother. We know that Adaine would never do that, but we see the underlying motivation is the same.

Off the bat we know Kipperlilly's ritual is different from the others since she chose to do it "willingly" and wasn't forced to choose via death (it's described as having no scar, unlike the others, so she may have not even had to die at all). That doesn't mean though that she wasn't infected with a rage that caused her to do things she never would've done normally, as I don't think Freshman Year Kipperlilly, whose biggest grievances were "I think Aguefort likes them more", would jump to coldblooded murder. I think the fact that Kipperlilly chose the shatterstar affects her mindset pretty greatly going in to rest of the year, because there's no easy way to differentiate between what's "her" and what's the rage star. She probably is constantly thinking things like "This is all me. I am in control of my own faculties. There was no coercion involved I'm just naturally a villain", partially because she doesn't want to admit that she, a mastermind, let herself get controlled like that. Essentially, the ritual itself was so seamless and the descent so gradual, I don't think even Kipperlilly has a strong sense anymore of who she is without rage.

Ruben we know canonically has a bit of amnesia after being revived, not even seeming to remember the entire year he was shatterstarred. Ruben basically has the opposite problem from Kipperlilly, where his change in identity post-shatterstar is so drastic that his sense of self is almost completely eroded, because "how could I have been motivated to become someone like that?". Ruben's not a naturally angry person, but still though, that WAS Ruben, the rage star just tapping in to Ruben's underlying desperate need for approval, emotionality, etc. and bringing it to the forefront. The rage star imbued Ruben with such an intense pain and rage that he felt he could only express it through his music. Post finale revival I think was Ruben just being in shock at how much he's changed, but I think the memories will come back to him and he'll have to reconcile these two Vastly Different versions of himself.

Ivy I believe was still kind of a mean girl before the shatter star, the shatter star just made it more likely for her to say it to people's faces rather than behind their backs. Honestly, I'm imagining her maybe as a young Sandra Lynn before, in the sense of both having this constant bemusement. Beyond that, though, I think Ivy may have been the most likely to take the rage star willingly as opposed to being killed for it (I actually think most of the Rat Grinders still could've been persuaded to take it willingly, but that's a post for another time). Ivy seems to have a lot of pent up rage and disdain for the world around her, and the shatter star only amplified that.

Oisin got buff after getting shatterstarred, which is a really funny canonical fact to think about lmao, because I'm just imagining him doing a bunch of angry push-ups or something. Anyways Oisin before the ritual I'm honestly imagining him to be the type to hang out with guys like Skrank and Shellford, aka those kind of nerdy unpopular guys who nonetheless are still kind of egotistical and little dicks sometimes. (This is actually why I think they were the ones playing pong at the party with Oisin, because they were actually kind of friends before.) Just like Ivy, the rage crystal just gave Oisin more of an excuse to externalize his rage at the world, but I think the main thing it did was just give Oisin a little more self-confidence because now he has all this power backing him up.

Mary Ann was EXACTLY the same before and after the ritual, it was actually a little disconcerting to Jace and Porter and they didn't know what to make of it. The main thing for Mary Ann, I think, is that she really doesn't have much of an emotional stake in the rage ritual, or the beef with the bad kids, or anything like that. She's just Entirely Indifferent to whatever atrocities are being committed, which is just a different type of fucked up lol. Honestly, I think as a barbarian Mary Ann's a bit more used to controlling her rage which is why the rage crystal might've had less of an effect, Lydia Barkrock style.

Buddy's death was so sudden and traumatic, with such a short amount of time to get used to the implications before the finale, I think Buddy's mind is just in a tailspin post-ritual just trying to grab on to anything that makes sense lol. He knows worship and devotion, its been a crutch in his life for so long, and that's what he defaults to when he can no longer reach Helio. In fact it almost seems a bit like a coping mechanism, latching onto it so securely even in the face of all other logic.

[thejujvtsupost]

Heyo! Got a little sfw/fluff request about Geto and Gojo x reader (no established relationship) and maybe could end with the both of them confessing if it's alright 👉👈

Something in like Satoru and Suguru's school days and Gojo is always the popular one and Geto is kind of overlooked/compared with Gojo's beauty but the thing is Gojo doesn't like that people always shrug off his best friend then one day reader is in class with a few girls chitchatting and the boys pass by the class and overhear the conversation you were having and get curious (cause they know you through Shoko) and the girl group was talking about their favorite things in guys and most of them would say things they like about Gojo and when it was your turn to answer, you just said you really liked Geto's eyes when he smiles and kinda go on a rent about things your really like about Geto (actions, physical, personality, etc) and the rest is up to you :>

Thank you so much!!!

No Time Like the Present

Lmao not me releasing this before I fixed my formatting hahahaha 💀 Jfc. Anyway, sorry for the delay anon!

Notes: F!reader, College setting, reader and characters are 18-19, sort of unintentional confessions, eavesdropping, not unrequited love, reader is shy, Shoko & Gojo making bets, you’re both oblivious disasters.

“C’mon man, she’s been staring at you for weeks. No way she doesn’t like you.” The halls were empty while they roamed and wasted time. This conversation has been coming up more and more frequently. He never believed Gojo.

Geto knew his best friend was highly desired at their college - he didn’t blame anyone. But there were time (just this time, actually) when he wished he wasn’t in Gojo’s shadow.

Gojo didn’t get the vibe that you wanted him. Sure, you were friendly; even on the way to actual friends, but that was a totally different feeling. No, he didn’t need his technique to know your gaze was always on his best friend. Both of you were painfully obvious and absolutely oblivious to each other. As luck would have it though, Gojo knew where your class was and decided he’d create a little mischief - Wouldn’t it be a coincidence if you randomly bumped into each other?

Things were about to change for Geto.

Hearing your voice from your nearby classroom made him shoot Gojo an accusatory glare and felt his heart lurch. Gojo didn’t even bother with the look and dragged him to the wall to eavesdrop wait for you.

“This is weird, we’ll catch up with her later at Shoko’s-” he was cut of by Gojo obnoxiously shushing him.

“Shut up and listen!” He said with a whisper shout, his eyes were wide and he was gaining a bigger self satisfied grin by the second.

Fine. Whatever it’d take to make Gojo leave before you saw them.

You were sitting with two other girls, a blonde and a brunette.

“I think he’s dreamy! Those eyes, I wish he’d take his sunglasses off more often!" The blonde didn’t bother to hide her open admiration. Geto really didn’t want to hear you gushing over his best friend…

The brunette let out a sigh, “yeah he’s dreamy, but have you seen how hot he is? Those abs!”

Then they were looking at you expectantly for your contribution. “I think he’s nice… but I really like his friend more.”

“You mean Suguru Geto? He’s pretty hot too.”

“Yeah.” You felt your face flush. “It’s not that he’s hot, well he is. He’s so strong and tall and his smile is so- ugh that’s not the point!” Your friends started giggling at your expression.

“I think he’s also really kind and considerate… he’s been helping me with my homework, we’ve been studying together lately and he’s so smart! Funny too, the other day he said some lame joke about Gojo and I couldn’t stop laughing, I even snorted. It was so embarrassing! He knew it was lame and kept going though, my sides were hurting.”

That didn’t make sense to Geto, he thought your laugh was cute. “But he’s such a good listener too, he remembers the small stuff that I wouldn’t expect him to know. He knows how I like my coffee and we’ve only studied at a cafe twice.”

“Uh oh, someone’s got a crush!” They were teasing you, Geto couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. He wished they hadn’t stopped your rant, though.

Geto had his body smushed as close to the door as possible, your blush was adorable and a huge boost to his confidence. Gojo was snickering and texting Shoko, there was an ongoing bet between them about how long it’d take for you guys to get together.

“It’s not like that! I mean, he wouldn’t go for someone like me anyway. Every time I think about asking him out I remember he’s way out of my league and I’m just me…”

Geto felt his heart squeeze. Just you? He loves likes just you. If anything you’re the one out of his league!

Your class ended not ten seconds later before Geto could formulate a better plan, you smiled brightly when you noticed him next to Gojo. Thirty seconds just wasn’t enough time to prepare everything he wanted to say; all he knew was that if you were feeling shy, he was going to ask you out as soon as he could. Anything to make you happy.

Starting right now, since there was no time like the present…

Thinking about making a request? Check my bio to see if they’re open! <3

[wayfayrr]

ive just had a thought- like a person who ISNT hylian[a human] is different likely from hylians, like maybe they can withstand different things better?? like hyrules poisons? maybe SOME things just don't affect them, [kinda like in how some fics magic doesn't work on them] lol a person travelling with them munching on some type of poisonous fruit [that's only found in hyrule] while the chain is freaking out lmao

[this is completely hypothetical, i just about have a heart attack when chocolate is too rich lol]

Sketch I'm gonna be so honest with you rn sgkrykh these kinds of ideas are my favourite next to self-aware game characters - It's like the humans are space orcs posts, the idea that reader or whoever is with the chain can just munch on these things that ARE DEADLY to the chain scratches my brain just right!! thank you so much for sending this ask <33 I don't really know if it's a request or not so I'm just gonna spitball some of my own thoughts about it - I'd love to talk more about it though if you ever want to :D

the image I've gotten is reader looks nearly identical to a hylian, with the only real difference being hight and having rounded ears Hylians are short and you can't change my mind over that sgvd but when it comes to eating things? There's a wave of horror as they bite into a fruit they found on the path, and the whole chain gather around them in a panic. Wild with tears in his eyes frantically swiping through his slate to find an antidote, bursting into tears when he can't find anything knowing that there are only a few precious minutes left to act. Rulie trying desperately to heal them with all of his spells knowing that it'll be useless to deal with what they ate. each if the others trying so desperately to get their goodbyes in, thinking that they'll never see them again. then... Nothing.

Reader is fine, shrugging it off after their time should be up but now they have to deal with the chain being more mothering and protective of them. For a few days anyway until their curiosity takes over a little bit, wanting to try things that would be mildly poisonous to them, nothing that could possibly be fatal of course. The biggest shock to them would be things that are safe to them being dangerous to reader instead like if reader was lactose intolerant but didn't mention it until malon got them to try some lonlon milk and they didn't handle it well at all

[still-scribblin]

Please, Please, Please

i just followed where the story took me, it was a few hundred words when i realized there was no smut in the books for this one????? none for now anyway and!! this doesn't seem directly derived from the song the longer i wrote but duhfaiuhdfjnldjfb whatever - also just posting this as soon as i finish so i don't have time to second guess or be shy so there are probably mistakes somewhere here isdbfhs

tags: inspired by a song, rlly mild angst at first but it's all good, reader-centric, 'Reese' is a nickname, if you read the whole thing here you'll get where it came from lmao

written for @stargazingfangirl18 's birthday! 🥳

hey siri! happy birthday! i'm one of your readers and i think it’s so cool that you hosted an event for writing for your birthday. it’s always a treat reading the stories you’ve written (and even the ones you’ve reblogged) when they come up on my dash and you’re one of the first cevans writers i’ve come across that just got me hooked on him and made me appreciate the different characters he’s played in his career! also one of the writers that probably influenced me to try writing for cevans characters too hihi. anyway i hope you have a great birthday here on tumblr and irl with your loved ones and closest friends, and i hope writing keeps you happy and that you share more of those happiness with the community here on tumblr. happy birthday!!! 🎈🎁🎊

i’ve been meaning to write for ransom using this song so i’m glad i got to use this event as a motivator for that. i chose to write for ransom first because he’s usually who i’m reminded of when i look at your blog (probably bc of the icon?) anywayyy yea :)))

wc: 1,269

-------

“Are you ashamed of me?” 

“Wha- no! Never! You know I’m so proud of you, right?” 

“I mean I understand you know,” he said bitterly, ripping your heart to shreds. “I wouldn’t want to be seen with me either.” It took a long time for him to be alright after realizing what he’d done, it took even longer for him to regain his confidence and show his true, lovely, colors after all that. Now it seems like all of that progress will be set back all because you’d lost the ability to speak.

“It’s not that at all Ran, I promise.” 

“Really? Because I heard you threatening to pull your sister’s hair until she went bald when we ran into her at the supermarket if she said anything about us.” you couldn’t breathe. he heard that? “I didn’t even know you were capable of saying violent things. It was a nice change, definitely made you hotter.” somehow you knew he meant it even if he was avoiding your eyes this time around, trying to keep the hurt off of his face. 

“Please believe me when I say I’m not ashamed. Of you, or us, or anything you’ve done and been through. It’s a problem with me, I swear.” your heart hurt at the disbelieving look he gave you. 

“You’re a saint, why would it be a problem with you? Just be honest with me, Reese. I’m a grown man, I can take it.” You hugged his head to your chest, combed his hair with your fingers, and choked on your tears. Words that you couldn’t say tripping over each other, suddenly in a rush to be spoken when they’d been stuck in your throat for days. It wasn’t his fault that this meeting would be doomed to fail, and something inside you would die if you let him go back to the driver’s seat believing that you saw him as anything less than the man he was, the most loving partner you’d ever had. 

You didn’t even realize your position had changed until you inhaled a mouthful of the fibers of his sweater. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you shrugged. The sigh he’d let out at least let you know he’s okay and out of the self-deprecating hole he’d dug himself into while he waited for you to speak. 

“It’s going to be okay.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Maybe, but I have high hopes. You’ve always spoken so highly of your family, and if you’re right about them then maybe they’d give me a chance, just like you did.” the way he looked straight into your eyes with unshakeable faith stole the breath from your lungs, and that was that. you didn’t know what you did to deserve him. 

Whatever happens, you were content knowing that Ransom knew where you were coming from, and that whatever anyone would say, you didn’t think of him any less. You steeled yourself as you both got back out front, the ride still quiet but definitely more comfortable as you felt the weight of your intertwined hands on your lap. 

“Well that wasn’t so bad. What were you so nervous for?” staring at the ceiling of your childhood bedroom, squeezed against Ransom’s body and the wall beside your twin-sized bed, you’d barely heard what he said, feeling so snug and comfortable at finally being able to relax now that all’s said and done. You didn’t even know you lost sleep over it. 

“Hey.” Ransom poked your cheek. He laughed as you groaned and buried your face in his chest. 

“I don’t even know.” you exhaled, watching his chest rise and fall calmly. 

For once in your life you were happy to be proven wrong. You’d thought that it would be a disaster of an afternoon, but your sister – godbless her blabbering mouth – had already told the whole family about Ransom, and about how she saw you two goofing off in the supermarket that day before approaching you two. The family had already known apparently, and were just happy that you found someone who wouldn’t take you for granted, regardless of their past. 

Tears stung at your eyes at the idea of Ransom staying, not because he needed anything from you, but just because he wanted to. 

“Come on,” you felt him grumble. “get out of that pretty head and come into bed with me. you already left me to fend for myself the whole afternoon.” he complained. 

“Do I have to fuck your soul back into your body?” that got your attention. 

“What?”

“What?” you could only watch, incredulous, as Ransom palmed his growing hard-on and proceeded to position himself between your legs with a mischievous grin. “I’ve been thinking of this since you told me we were visiting.” at your blank look, he sighed.

“Fucking you in your childhood bedroom, of course.” he snorted as you suddenly sat up and began hitting his arm out of embarrasment. seriously, where was the filter on this man’s mouth? 

Apparently having had enough of games, you soon found yourself unable to move, hands pinned by one of his own above your head, your view taken up by Ransom furrowing his brows as he took his pants off with only one hand. 

“Are you serious?” 

“Yep.” he said, insufferable. You could only watch as he made a show of sucking on his particularly placed middle finger — the eyeroll you gave him only widened his stupid grin — and pressed said finger in the middle of your panties, tracing your slit over the cloth and breaking your unimpressed stare that he wasn’t buying. 

“You’re such a worrywart,” Ransom said as he slid a thick finger into you, the gusset of your underwear pushed to the side, his eyes never leaving yours. “but I shouldn’t complain, that is how we finally got to talking, after all.”

The hand holding yours slid down to push your thighs further apart. The mental image of what you must look like, inside your family home, with only the four thin walls of your bedroom to keep your dignity intact sparked a fresh wave of arousal over you. Ransom, who had always been attentive, raised a curious eyebrow at the subtle twitch of your body. “you like this, don’t you?” 

you refused to answer the accusation, refused to watch his infuriating smirk grow, but you should have known that would never fly with him. you squeaked as you felt a firm slap on your clit. 

“answer me.” 

“...yes” you whispered. you closed your eyes as he began chuckling, muttering to himself about how ‘he knew it’. One thing you’d learned about Ransom was that the guy loved to talk. The only time he ever shut up was when you sat on his face, because even asleep he liked to mutter random things, like book quotes or threats to family members that were nowhere near him, thankfully. 

the sound of footsteps nearing your bedroom had you looking back at him, panicked. Ransom on the other hand, seemed excited, going by the way his eyes lit up. 

“hey!” your sister knocked. “movie starts in 10 minutes so if you two aren’t down by that time I’m busting this door open even if I have to do it blindfolded!” 

“kinky!” Ransom replied. The loud thump of your fist against his shoulder was drowned out by your sister’s laughter. 

“fuck you!” you whispered, unbelievably embarrased. 

“that’s exactly what I’m trying to do.” Ransom says matter-of-factly, his face speaking of the herculean challenges you’re no doubt going to have to endure for the next 9 and a half minutes.