#anyways enough of me rambling I pushed this off way too long I'm so sorry hrgh

[astonmartinii]

i hope your finger’s ok!! please take all the time you need and remember you health comes first :) imma be selfish and send you a charles request cause ur writing makes me smile at my phone like an idiot and i can’t help it :p ok so!! charles x versteppen reader? shes max’s sister and drives for redbull (cause im delulu like that) and they’ve been fighting w each other since they were kids (no one knows why they started arguing they’re j petty and refuse to give it up even though they dk what they’re arguing abt anymore) and obvs they’re in love w each other - maybe another drivers flirting w her or smth and charles j snaps and hard launches the reader cause surprise they’ve been dating each other 🤭 holy shit this is long sorry for rambling 🙏🙏

angel baby, devil child | charles leclerc social media au

pairing: charles leclerc x verstappen!reader

enemies to lovers blah blah blah

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, carlossainz55 and 1,743,200 others

yourusername: crazy, crazy race. sorry not sorry to the tifosi, tell ur girl @charles_leclerc to kiss my ass not my rear tyre xoxo

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user1: okay they're clearly still in the enemies phase... when can we skip to lovers

user2: i personally love that charles is the mortal enemy of both verstappen siblings that's so slay of him

maxverstappen1: crop me out again and say goodbye to a tow in qualifying

yourusername: sorry maxy, not my fault i got all the photogenic genes xx

maxverstappen1: erm rude @christianhorner tell her to stop bullying me

yourusername: two can play at that game @sebastianvettel tell max to stop being a baby

user3: the way neither christian or seb replied they really don't get paid enough to deal with them

charles_leclerc: what is it with verstappens and their love for pushing me off the track

yourusername: what is it with your front wing and my rear tyre

charles_leclerc: umm i asked you first

yourusername: stop deflecting babe, we all know you love my ass so much you wanted a touch

charles_leclerc: i'd rather deep fry my hands than touch your rear

maxverstappen1: that can be arranged

user4: can't wait for these three to all be in the same press conference next week 🍿

carlossainz55: my favourite person to share the podium with

yourusername: thanks chilli (@tifosi you heard it here sainz is against ferrari 1-2s)

carlossainz55: NO that's not what i meant

landonorris: i see how it is ... god all men are the same AM I NOT PRETTY ENOUGH FOR YOU?

maxverstappen1

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 1,204,809 others

tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1: happy birthday to my bestest friend, biggest rival and favourite roommate. though maybe now you're 23 you can get your own place so you can sneak out to meet up with your secret boyfriend on your own terms and can keep that massive ballsack away from jimmy and sassy. i love you and verstappen dominance 4 ever.

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user7: i love y/n but i think she should bring her cat to races as a scare tactic

yourusername: wrinkle doesn't appreciate your tone but it is duly noted

yourusername: awwwwwwwww i love you maxy !! and you're never getting rid of your little sister unless you get married and ur a big fat nerd so that's never happening xx

maxverstappen1: attacking me after i just bought you a whole ass car

yourusername: i JOKE. thank you soooo much and you'll never get rid of me you love me too much to anyway.

maxverstappen1: enough to finally introduce me to the mystery man?

yourusername: blocked.

user8: are we all just ignoring her doing her literal eyeliner with a knife?

user9: or the fact that max likely walked in and was like oh wait this is a sick shot

danielricciardo: oh no that was me, i'm still traumatised but it's probably the best photo i've ever taken

yourusername: easy to do with a model like me

charles_leclerc: wtf is that thing in the last one

yourusername: rude of you to think ur balls look any nicer

charles_leclerc: what?

yourusername: what?

user10: does anyone want to elaborate?

carlossainz55: happy birthday y/n !

yourusername: thanks carlos, thank you for the flowers 👍

user11: this is either their way of flirting or y/n really couldn't give a flying fuck about carlos' obvious crush on her

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo and 2,098,560 others

yourusername: another trip around the sun and still following my brother around, difference is now i beat him x

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user16: your honour i am so obsessed with her

maxverstappen1: can't even be angry about it, you deserve the world

yourusername: you softy, i love you

maxverstappen1: also dummy i know who your boyfriend is now did you guys forget that we LITERALLY LIVE TOGETHER

yourusername: i was intoxicated my bad but we bought you breakfast?

maxverstappen1: literally the only reason he hasn't gone over the balcony, he might want to be gone before this hangover wears off

yourusername: noted.

user17: yall want to share with the class?

user18: based on ^^ this reaction i'm going to say it's not carlos

user19: watch out he'll drop a shit pick-up line in a second and be rejected

carlossainz55: hope you enjoyed your birthday beautiful

user20: bro this guy STINKS

user19: i told yall

yourusername: thank you carlos

user21: i'm sorry this is dry as hell it can't be carlos

charles_leclerc: my shoes will never recover, i'll be sending an invoice your way

yourusername: you're a millionaire boo, you can replace those tacky white trainers yourself

charles_leclerc: is having no manners a verstappen trait?

yourusername: come for max all you want, but the birthday girl? low leclerc

charles_leclerc: when you go low i go lower

yourusername: oh believe me i know all about you and going down

user22: DO YALL MIND?

user23: do they think we're dumb?

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, lancestroll and 1,204,674 others

charles_leclerc: a weekend without racing?

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user24: what is biden doing about the soft launch pandemic?

user25: well this is oddly timed ...

yourusername: you look like you'd have sweaty hands

charles_leclerc: wouldn't you like to know

yourusername: unlike all ur fangirls i've actually smelt you sweaty after a race so you can keep your hands to yourself

maxverstappen1: you heard her 🤨

charles_leclerc: why are you here? is this a 2 for 1 deal on annoying dutch people

yourusername: you can call him annoying all you want, but you love me don't lie

charles_leclerc: my lawyer says i shouldn't comment on that ;)

sebastianvettel: when will you two stop?

yourusername: sorry seb :(

charles_leclerc: sorry seb :(

user26: i know carlos is sick reading this weird flirting when y/n never comments on his pics

user27: she comes here just to flirt cause she didn't even like the photo

user28: she doesn't even follow him 😭

pierregasly: i love a slow burn as much as the next person BUT NOT WHEN I DON'T KNOW WHO IT IS PICK UP THE PHONE

charles_leclerc: you're so dramatic, nobody knows calmar

maxverstappen1: he's lying i do

pierregasly: WHAT

charles_leclerc: by ACCIDENT i didn't tell him by choice

user29: so like, it's definitely y/n LOL

user30: oh no everyone get ready marca is going to run a story tomorrow about how charles leclerc is ruining carlos' career with psychological warfare by flirting with the girl he likes

user31: sainz sr about to wage war lol

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, yourusername and 2,304,889 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: i don't share. i love you. please follow me on instagram now (and let me come on max's jet) x

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user35: HOLY FUCK

user36: they're so fucking sexy my lord

yourusername: you're so weak, one teammate flirts with me and you hard launch, i've had 12 year olds use me as a face claim to pretend they're pregnant with your child

charles_leclerc: they took your face? i happen to quite like it, can they give it back?

yourusername: quite?

charles_leclerc: don't make me look bad you know i positively LOVE YOUR FACE

yourusername: and my ass since it's all you look at on track

charles_leclerc: okay you can drop the act now people know we're in love stop being mean to me :(

yourusername: but it's true, no?

charles_leclerc: rest assured i love your actual ass much more

maxverstappen1: believe me the people she lives with know WAY too much about how much you love it

user37: carlos sainz really thought he had a chance when these fools have been together for TWO years

sebastianvettel: congratulations you two, glad we don't have to watch you two trying to be subtle now

maxverstappen1: so wait when did you find out?

sebastianvettel: about two weeks into the relationship, they were very obvious

yourusername: thank you for keeping our secret dad <3

user38: y/n really said you ARE my grid dad

yourusername: oh no that's my actual dad

charles_leclerc: he's literally going to walk y/n down the aisle

maxverstappen1: please don't tell me you're engaged? i only just got over you actually being together

charles_leclerc: i'm not your brother yet don't worry (i will be soon)

carlossainz55: congrats guys

user39: it's okay bro you can cry

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 2,301,541 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: two years with the love of my life, still on max's side on val d'argenton x

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user40: they're disgusting (when will it happen to me)

charles_leclerc: we'll have to agree to disagree

yourusername: just admit it you love to push verstappens off the track

charles_leclerc: sorry babe as much as i love you, i'll never let you win x

yourusername: good thing i always beat you then x

charles_leclerc: either way victory sex still bangs

user41: yes, yes they're cute, but i need a full on play-by-play of how this relationship came to be

user42: i know these menaces were giggling and kicking their feet every time they had an argument in comment sections

yourusername: oh it was very fun

charles_leclerc: but the radio messaged are 100% real lol

maxverstappen1: thanks for having my back, you're welcome for all the gross pictures i've taken for you guys

yourusername: consider your payment like every meal i make us

maxverstappen1: well if i did it f1 would be down three drivers

user43: wait so does charles basically live with them now?

maxverstappen1: unfortunately yes. depressing music, even worse cooking than me and horrendously loud sex with my sister. i should kick him out

charles_leclerc: i literally bought you noise-cancelling headphones?

maxverstappen1: nothing you can say will save me from this trauma

yourusername: just shag daniel and get off of our case x

note: ahhhhh i am so sorry this request took so long, my inbox keeps moving stuff around lol. my finger is good thanks for asking, the human body is a wonder and i peeled off the last of my scab this week lol. i hope this was the kinda thing you were looking for !! xx

[avatar-anna]

When You Fall In Love...

so i've been reading icebreaker and it's been putting me in the hockeyrry mood

part one, part two, bonus, bonus

Harry watched from the empty stands as Y/n ran through her routine for the fifth time. Her teammates had gone home, her coach asked Harry if he would lock up on the way out, and now it was just the two of them in the empty rink. There wasn't even any music playing anymore, Y/n was just skating and performing her tricks as if there was.

Every time she did it, it was flawless. Her routine was fast and intense and incredibly difficult, but Y/n performed with ease every time. She landed her tricks like they were nothing, tricks which Harry now knew the names of and could tell the difference between a lutz and an axel. She was incredible, and he was in awe of her every single time.

But even in her perfection, Y/n had yet to smile once.

Harry decided she'd had enough after she finished her fifth run-through, quickly jogging down to the edge of the rink before she could skate out to the middle again. He leaned over the barricade and kissed the top of her head. This close to her, he could see her rosy cheeks and heaving chest, a sign that her routine did wear her out, despite making it look so effortless.

"You were phenomenal as usual, baby," Harry said while he gathered her things.

"I bobbled a landing and my timing was off for a whole four counts," was her reply.

Harry frowned, not pleased by her recent negativity. Any athlete could be critical of their ability, but Y/n seemed uncharacteristically hard on herself lately, and he had no idea why. "Everything okay?" He asked, shouldering her duffle bag as they walked away from the rink.

"I'm fine."

She certainly didn't sound fine, but Harry decided not to push. Not now, anyway. Changing the subject, he said, "I got an email from the recruiter. I should be receiving my contract soon."

Excitement didn't even begin to cover how Harry had been feeling lately. Last week, he'd met with an agent of a minor league hockey team, one that was a feeder to an NHL team. He expressed their interest in Harry moving to the east coast after graduation and join them for spring training. And after giving it some thought, Harry accepted.

He was over the moon, thrilled that years of hard work was finally paying off. He'd made his passion into a career, and had the potential to really make a name for himself. Life couldn't have been better.

But where Harry seemed to be flying high, Y/n seemed stuck. She was happy for him when he told her the news, had gone out to celebrate with him that night. But something felt off between them. Harry couldn't put a name to it, but he just knew.

"That's great," Y/n said with no amount of enthusiasm in her voice. Harry tried not to take it to heart, she was clearly in a mood from her practice. She was under a lot of pressure too, he reminded himself, and sometimes had a knack for not knowing how to express herself with words.

"Is there something on your mind? You've been quiet recently," he said, hoping he wasn't overstepping her delicate boundary.

Y/n shook her head as she approached her car, sliding into the driver's seat without a word. Harry couldn't help but feel more and more like there was something on her mind, but he let it go again.

Before pulling the car out of the parking lot, Y/n rested her hand over his and leaned in to kiss him. "I'm sorry. I've just got a lot on my mind."

"It's okay. As long as you know you can talk to me about it."

Her throat bobbed, but she nodded, then turned her focus toward the road. Harry filled the silence with rambling. He talked mostly about the NHL, about his contract and where he wanted to live and how everything was happening so fast.

So caught up in trying to break the tension, he didn't notice Y/n's white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel.

*.*

"Styles! What the hell are you doing? Focus up! Let's go!"

Harry rested his hands on his knees, breathing heavily during the brief pause in the game. His eyes flicked up to the stands, searching the crowd for a familiar face, but he didn't see the one he needed the most.

Despite being recruited by a minor league hockey team, Harry was probably having the worst game of his life.

Not one pass connected, he was letting second-rate players get by him, and he'd spent more time in the penalty box than in the actual game. Nothing about this was right, and still all he could do was look for Y/n.

She wasn't there, and even though things had been weird between them recently, he was still surprised. When she wasn't at a competition of her own, Y/n came to every one of Harry's games. It had started out as Harry wanting to impress her, maybe show off a little, and then as time went on and they grew closer and their relationship became more than two people having sex in secret, he wanted her to be there just because it felt good knowing she was watching him play. All his nerves floated away when Y/n was sat in the stands, sometimes in his jersey, cheering him on.

And of course there were times when she couldn't come, but this wasn't one of those times. Y/n had purposely not shown up. He knew they'd fought before the game, but he didn't think she would abandon him just to be petty. They were past that now.

His sole focus should've been on the game he was playing, but instead his mind kept drifting to the fight.

Harry could feel Y/n pulling away from him. He finally felt like he was getting everything he wanted—a spot on a minor league hockey team on the east coast that would eventually lead him to the NHL, graduating with semi-decent grades thanks to Y/n, and of course being with his dream girl. At first, she'd seen him as some douchey athlete that was only good for one thing. He remembered seeing her for the first time their freshman year, performing tricks on the ice that he'd only ever seen on TV, and when he whistled and clapped loudly—perhaps a little obnoxiously—after she'd finished, she'd rolled her eyes at him and told him to fuck off.

It was love at first sight.

Harry had been so careful around Y/n. He played by her rules and followed her lead, trying not to let the comments about them not dating get to him too much. He liked their initial dynamic, finding it funny when he got under her skin because she made it so easy. It became a kind of game, this push and pull that was fun and exciting and eventually led to their arrangement.

He knew that she cared about him on some level, he just needed to bide his time and show her he wasn't who she thought he was. Not entirely, anyway. And when she finally did, and they became more than just people who screwed around, everything was perfect.

They'd been through so much together. Y/n pushed Harry to be better, and he worked with her to master new tricks and nail her routine. There wasn't anyone else who understood his level of commitment to hockey, but she did, and that just made him love her more.

So when he got the call offering him a spot on the minor league team, Y/n was the first person Harry told. She'd been happy for him, and he was over the moon, his mind already making a million plans—where they'd live, her coming to his games, him helping her find a new rink to train at. It felt like the doors to a new and exciting world had opened for them, but she then she started pulling back, and Harry practically watched as that door slammed shut.

Harry pushed himself to focus back on the game, on the hockey stick in his hand and the ice beneath his skates. He felt like it took more effort than it should've to get his head back in the game, but his team managed to pull out a win, and he managed not to get benched before it happened. That didn't stop his coach from ripping him a new one in the locker room, but Harry sat there and took it, shaking his head and promising his piss poor performance would never happen again.

Exhausted both physically and mentally, he trudged out of the locker room and toward the parking lot, debating whether to take the bus home or call an Uber. Even in his senior year, he still didn't have a car, but Y/n was usually there to give him a ride home. To their home. Moving in together for their last year of school seemed like a no-brainer, and it had been amazing so far, though the last week had been kind of a disaster. Harry could feel the tension between them growing, but every time he asked Y/n about it, she'd say she was fine even though they both knew everything was not fine, and the cycle continued. He wanted to be excited, he wanted to celebrate the success he'd managed to create for himself, but he felt rather deflated instead.

To Harry's surprise, Y/n was waiting for him in the parking lot. He didn't hesitate putting his gear in the trunk and coming around to sit in the passenger seat. Y/n leaned in to kiss him immediately holding onto the sides of his face fervently.

"I'm sorry," she breathed. "I'm sorry for not being here tonight and I'm sorry for acting strange, and I'm sorry for—"

"Y/n, what's going on with you?" Harry couldn't help but ask.

"Can we wait until we get home to talk?" She asked. I want to be able to talk to you properly, and I can't if I'm driving.

When Harry nodded, Y/n must've deemed it enough. She peeled away from the rink, silent tension filling the air between once again. It had been following them around all week.

That ended tonight, though. He didn't care how much Y/n hated confrontation or hard conversations. They couldn't move forward if they didn't move past this roadblock first. Harry loved Y/n more than he ever thought possible, and stubborn as she was, he knew she loved him just as much. He would get to the bottom of this, no matter how hard she tried to fight him on the way down.

*.*

"Y/n, you know I would be ecstatic if you'd told me you qualified for the Olympics. This is a huge step in my career! Why can't you be happy for me?"

"I am! God, Harry, I am."

"Then why are you pulling away from me? I feel like I can't be excited about this around you when you're the one person who should understand how this feels."

"I can't do this. I can't have this argument with you," you said, trying to step away from him.

Harry was quick to grab your hands in his, keeping you from walking away. "What aren't you telling me? Do you want to break up?"

"No!

"Do you not love me anymore? What? What is it, Y/n?"

"God, I didn't—I didn't ask for this," you cried, feeling like a damn had burst inside you. It was out now, and now you had to see it through to the end. "I didn't plan on falling in love with you. I wasn't prepared to love you this much. You're the one who wanted to take things further, and now you're—"

You're leaving me, you couldn't bring yourself to say. You really were happy for him. All of his dreams were coming true, and he had an ambition that matched yours, which made you love him more. And now that ambition was taking him far away from you, and you weren't handling it as well as you thought you would.

"Y/n—"

"I'm happy for you, H, I'm so happy for you that I could burst. And maybe even a little jealous," you joked, though there was some truth to what you said. "But I guess I just...I guess I didn't expect to love you this much. And I don't—I don't know what to do because you're going soon and I'm..."

You had no clue, and that alone was terrifying.

At the start of all this, you never imagined falling in love with Harry. He drove you absolutely insane, and despite your physical attraction to him, you kept your distance. But he kept doing these things that made you like him, and eventually care about him, and finally made you fall in love with him. It just wasn't something you saw coming. Love was definitely not on the brain when you met Harry.

Because you knew this moment was inevitable. The moment when one of you would be given an opportunity you couldn't refuse and would pull you away from each other. Once upon a time, you thought you would be given your dream job of a lifetime—competitive skating and hopefully the Olympics—but somewhere down the line, skating stopped bringing you joy, only pressure and anxiety. And now Harry had his dream job on the other side of the country, and you were left to flounder and wonder how you would survive waking up without him next to you.

"You're making it seem like it's a bad thing that you're in love with me," Harry said quietly, but the low tone of his voice didn't hide anything. You knew he was getting upset. After all the avoidance the last week—on your part—yours and his emotions were coming to a head.

"It's not! It's just that you're leaving!" you said, resisting the urge to run a frustrated hand through your hair. "And all week you've talked about how excited to get out of here and leave this all behind and start a new chapter in your life. I mean, would it kill you to act like you're a little torn up about leaving?"

It was so selfish, and you knew it was. It was why you'd been avoiding Harry, this conversation. Harry had every right to be proud and ecstatic for leaving to play in the professional league. He worked so hard, pushed himself farther than anyone you'd ever met, except for maybe you. Your pain was clouding your good sense, and now you'd shown just how horrible you could really be.

You couldn't look him in the eye after saying what you did. Even if it was how you felt, you still felt ashamed for raining on Harry's parade. "Y/n—" he tried to say when you hastily wiped a tear from your eye.

"I shouldn't have said anything. I'm sorry," you said, getting up from the couch and scurrying off to your bedroom.

Flopping on the bed, you pulled the covers over you, trying to hide from everything happening around you. It was too much. Your senior year was supposed to be fun and full of unforgettable memories, not arguments and heartache.

You weren't sure how much time had passed before the door opened and Harry slipped inside. He slid into bed next to you, and you didn't fight it when he rested his face in the crook of your neck. Because despite everything you were feeling, this was all you really needed.

"I'm not leaving you behind," he murmured gently. "You mean too much to me."

You sniffled, and Harry pulled you closer to his chest. "You're going to be thousands of miles away."

"Says who?" he said, kissing your cheek. "Who says you aren't coming with me?"

"And do what?" you huffed, even though the thought slightly lifted your spirits. "Be one of your...puck whatevers and follow you around like a puppy? I need a life of my own too."

You were being stubborn and argumentative and you both knew it. There was some relief in knowing Harry wanted you with him, but you also didn't want to just move because Harry was. You needed purpose, you needed to feel like your life had some sort of direction in it. But it was unfair to put all of that on Harry, and you didn't know how to express how you felt without sounding insane, so instead you said nothing, and that obviously went over brilliantly.

Harry chuckled. "See, because you just said how in love you are with me, I can tell that you're frosty attitude is just an act. Now turn over and look at me."

You reluctantly turned over, brow furrowed exaggeratedly because you couldn't cross your arms over your chest. It used to infuriate you how easily Harry could get under your skin because he knew you so well, that he knew just what to do or say to pull you out of a bad mood. In this moment, you were thankful. He could see past all the harsh words and see to the root of the problem. You'd said some things that were perhaps out of order, but Harry understood. Despite everything, he understood.

"You've worked just as hard as me, Y/n. I want to be there for you the way you've been for me. You can achieve your goals too."

"I just...I don't know if I want to achieve them anymore," you said quietly.

It was the first time you'd said it out loud. Since you'd learned to skate, there had only been one goal: the Olympics. Getting there wasn't just a matter of training, it was about devoting your life to your craft, it was barely having a life outside of training and competitions and giving all your time to winning. And after spending nearly your entire life doing it, you felt yourself slowly burning out. You'd go through your routines flawlessly, but your heart wasn't in it. All you could think about was the future—the next competition, the next training session, the next qualifier. It took seeing Harry so happy about being drafted to the minor leagues to realize the fire had gone out in you. Thinking of Olympic qualifiers and training and affording coaches and costumes and picking the right music only filled you with dread when you should've felt joy.

"Oh."

"But I don't know who I am if I don't have skating."

"You don't have to compete to skate, you know," Harry said. He rested his hand against your cheek, rubbing his thumb along your temple lightly. "You can c—"

"Oh God, don't say coach," you groaned. "It's perfect. You'll be a hockey superstar and I'll be the washed-up figure skater who couldn't handle the pressure of being an athlete and wound up coaching instead."

"I know you're being like this because you're scared, and that's okay," he said. "But I'll help you find a new dream, Y/n. I promise."

You had to blink away tears because your heart couldn't take how much he cared about you. "Even when I've been a complete bitch?"

"You haven't been. I'm sorry if you felt like I was leaving you behind. I guess in my mind we would always be together, no matter where we ended up."

"God I hate how much I love you sometimes," you grumbled while flinging yourself on top of Harry and holding him tight. "It's too much, you're too much, and I can't stand it—"

"There's a compliment in there somewhere, right?" Harry asked, but you could hear the grin in his voice.

Sitting up, you perched yourself on him, your legs straddling his waist. Dipping down, you made sure your noses were brushing, but you didn't close the distance. Not yet. Your heart was racing simply because Harry had been so kind to you, because he knew you so well and said exactly what you needed to hear. It felt ridiculous to know that there was a time when he pissed you off so much you saw red, that his teasing remarks and cocky grin grated on your nerves. Now you didn't want to imagine a life without him.

"I'm sorry for saying all of those things," you murmured. "I really am proud of you. No one deserves this more than you do."

Harry's hand reached up and threaded through your hair, his fingers gentle as they passed over your scalp. "I know you are. And I mean it, Y/n. I'll help you. I know you love to skate, we just have to find a way to channel that into something else. If not coaching, maybe performing?"

"What? Like Disney on Ice?" you asked skeptically, your nose wrinkling at the thought.

Harry shrugged as his hand dipped beneath your shirt to stroke your back. "You'd be a cute princess."

"With my luck, they'd make me a tree."

"Then you'd be the cutest tree there ever was."

Shaking your head, you nudged your nose against his again. "Can we hit pause on talking about the future? I just want to be with you here. Right now."

"Course," Harry said, one corner of his mouth turning up into a crooked grin. "And then maybe we can circle back to you being my puck whatever."

"Shut up."

"Make me!"

And that was something you knew how to do better than your skating routine.

[punktactical]

⋆୨୧˚  PERVERT !

sanji ; catches his roommate taking photos of him, proceeds to get turned on.

⋆ " hello!! okay, so, I got OBSESSED with the perverted sanji and perverted reader fic😫😫 I wanted to request kind of the opposite ?? reader getting caught getting off to photos of sanji, and they end up doing it ?? sorry if it's generic ANYWAYS I love your blogggggg <3333 "

WARNINGS ; fem!reader , pervert!reader , virgin!reader, first time , unprotected , dirty talk , dacryphilia , praise , vaginal sex , shower sex , sanji is also a perv lawl ..

A/N ; srry for the hiatus ,, im back tho hehe. thank you for the request !!

⋆

THIS HAD BECOME A ROUTINE.

a very wrong routine.

long story short - you'd sneak photos of sanji in the shower and then go get off to them. simple as that. yeah it was wrong, but you couldn't help it. he was hot but he was also your roommate so it could never be anything more.

today was nothing new, sanji came home from work, exhausted as usual. you'd go 'prepare' dinner as he took a shower.

waiting in the kitchen, you'd listen attentively for the sound of water running, before grabbing your phone and sneaking into the bathroom. you were seriously starting to feel bad, but you were in too deep now. twisting the doorknob ever so slowly, you pushed the door open, not a lot so he couldn't feel the cold from the outside rush in.

through the foggy glass of the shower, you could barely see his lean figure, water running down his shoulders, all the way down to his ankles. you shuddered, shaking your head quickly before opening the camera to your phone. you always made sure to silence the shudder sound on your phone, to avoid being caught, of course. if you ever got caught, you'd probably jump off a building.

climbing onto the toilet seat, you peeked over the shower just enough to catch a glimpse of sanji. god, you almost had a nosebleed. gasping softly at the sight, you turn away quickly, looking away in shame. how could you do this? to your roommate? you had to be some sick pervert to do this.

which is exactly what you are.

with a shaky hand, you hold your phone up over the shower, making sure that sanji's eyes were closed at the time. sucking in a breath, your fingers pinch at the screen, zooming in on him. biting your lip, you click the capture button, heart sinking the very next moment.

CLICK ! ⋆

if god existed, he was cruel.

cruel to perverts like you.

scrambling off of the toilet seat, you trip, falling onto the floor quickly. catching your breath, you try to get up, failing at the sound of the shower being turned off. crawling over to the door, you're about to open in until sanji opens the shower door.

you couldn't make out his expression, tears covering your vision. maybe you would've come up with an explanation if it weren't the heat beginning to pool between your legs. "s- sanji, i can explain!!" you squeal, jumping to your feet. you began to blabber about stupid things, excuses that made no sense, all while your phone was still open on the camera app, lying on the toiler seat.

sanji gulped, sniffing back a nosebleed. you're expression, paired with the nervous tears, made his cock stir. he bit his lip, watching as you rambled. he was literally exposing his body to you, why were you apologizing? he knew you were taking photos of him, he just could never bring it up to you.

your blabber died down as the tears finally rolled. you sniffled, your gaze now wracking sanji's whole body. his toned muscles, v-line, and a hardened dick made you red in the face. smacking a hand over your face, you squeak. "fuck- i'm so sorry! i'm such a freak!" turning around, you hand slams onto the doorknob, trying to pull it open. unfortunately, it seemed it was jammed.

"it's fine."

you shriek as you feel sanji's hands land on your shoulders, the water sinking into your shirt. "i like that you were taking photos of me, 'kay? and as you saw, i have a problem." you gulp, his hands moving from your shoulders down your arms, rubbing them lightly. the 'problem' pressed up against you, rubbing against your ass. you both gasp at the contact, sanji bit back a moan while you fight off the urge to whimper. "just fucking help me already." he groaned, already lifting up your shirt.

-

which is how you ended up in the shower with sanji, one leg lifted over his shoulder while the other was held up by his arm.

clothes were scattered on the tile floor, long forgotten. water slid down your back, glistening in the light.

his cock teased your clit, sliding back and forth between your slick folds. fat tears rolled down your cheeks, red from all the crying. "fuck- i forgot you're a virgin.. so fucking hot." he whispered the last part, biting his lip as he slapped his dick on your pussy. you sobbed, head hung low. he nestled his face into your neck, kissing along your jawline. "shh.. i'll go slow, such a pretty little thing .." he muttered, kissing your tears away. his hand gripped his cock, guiding it inside of you.

your breath hitched at the stretch, watching as his cock slowly sunk into your pretty pink pussy. sanji watched your face attentively, adoring the way your round eyes were wide with wonder. he almost felt bad he was your first.

he can't wait any longer. sanji grumbles, finally thrusting all the way into you.

you threw your head back with a sob, crying incoherent things. sanji sighs at the feeling of your gummy walls squeezing him, hiding his face in your neck. "sssanji, it's hurts..." you sniffle, wrapping your arms around his neck. you can feel him smile against your skin, making you shudder in delight. "shhh, you just need time to adjust.. you can take it."

over the course of a few minutes, you have been reduced to a whiny and whimpering mess, pathetic.

sanji sighed, rocking his hips back and forth slowly. he watched your expression of pleasure, teary eyed and drooling, just barely being able to take his cock. he wanted nothing more than to just fuck you deep and good, show you what you've been masturbating to. alas, he knows you've never taken real dick before and you need time.

it seemed you noticed his frustration though. you try to move your hips, but he clicks his tongue at you. your eyes meet and he smiles softly, leaning down to kiss your forehead. "i don't think you can take it." he chuckles, moving his hips slowly, watching his cock move in and out of you. with a frustrated whine, you move your leg from his shoulder to his backside. you do the same with your other leg, wrapping around his torso and pulling him in closer. "please fuck me, sanji. oh god- please.." hearing your words turned him on. "shit- are you sure?" you nod frantically and that was enough for him.

his pace was steady at first, pumping himself inside of your velvety walls. your choked sobs and cries made him dizzy. he wanted to cum later, to make this experience special for you, but god he could barely hold back with the way you cried, begging him to fuck you deeper. the longer he went, the sloppier his pace got. you felt this funny feeling in your tummy, whining into sanji's neck. "sssanji! i'm gonna- i think i'm gonna cum, oh fuck!" sanji practically busted inside of you right at that moment. his hand quickly traveled to your clit, his thumb rubbing the senstivie bud in swift circles. the pressure against your clit and the way his cock nestled deep inside had you cumming in a matter of seconds. "cum, please cum on my cock, god you're so beautiful-!" he pleaded, pressing himself deeper into you. 

"please cum, gorgeous. i need to feel you cum on my cock- oh fuck!" the funny feeling in your tummy snapped, making you shriek in delight. sanji growled, fucking you through your orgasm. "just like that- shit...!"

he pulls himself out of you quickly, gripping his cock and pumping it swiftly. you watched with teary eyes as he pumped his load out onto your stomach, drizzling down your wet skin. you both huff in silence, trying to regain your breath. "i-i'm so gross, sorry sanji.." you start, sniffling. he shushed you, pulling you into a sloppy kiss. mumbling against your lips, he grins.

"i knew you were taking pictures of me, i guess i should've made a move first."

⋆

[ghyulia]

𝗢𝗯𝗲𝘆 𝗠𝗲 𝗕𝗿𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝘀! 𝗪𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝗧𝗵𝗲𝘆 𝗙𝗶𝗻𝗱 𝗢𝘂𝘁 𝗧𝗵𝗲𝘆’𝗿𝗲 𝗬𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗧𝘆𝗽𝗲 𝗽𝟮!

p1 | p2

‹𝟹 ft. Satan & Beelzebub

sorry for any grammar mistakes!!

𝗦𝗮𝘁𝗮𝗻

𐙚 . He's pretty surprised. Satan knows that he's pretty attractive, but he doesn't have the best of qualities. He genuinely thinks you would fare better with someone who isn't as.. short-fused as him. He appreciates your feelings, of course! He's so madly in love with you

𐙚. Satan resolves not to mention it or make an appearance at the moment as quietly makes his way back to his room. He doesn't think you noticed him.

𐙚. Little did he know, you managed to catch a glimpse of a blonde head swiftly disappearing from behind the door. You knew he heard you and chose not to say anything or make himself known. This threw you for a loop. Did he like you? Did he try to flee the scene in hopes that you wouldn't notice him because he didn't feel that way about you?! All of these thoughts were weighing you down.

𐙚. After a few hours, you finally decided to man up and pay him a visit. It wasn't unusual for you to visit him at this time, since you both usually liked to read while occasionally talking about events that transpired through the day.

𐙚. You knock twice. "Satan?"

"Oh, (Name)." "Come in."

You warily open the door, all your confidence from a few minutes ago dissipating. It's now or never, anyway. You swallow your fear.

"How was your day?" You say. "It was pretty normal. Remember that book from the human world that piqued my interest? It finally came in. I was pretty excited to read it, but I thought it might be better to wait for you. I got a little impatient and read the first few pages, though...I hope that's fine." "Hey, (Name), you seem really tense. Is everything all right?" Satan points out.

"Huh? ..Oh yeah. I'm good..I'm super excited to read the book, too!" You force out. He really is acting like he didn't hear what you said. You were starting to get frustrated, and Satan could notice it too.

"Seriously, (Name). What's up with you?" Satan inquires, confusion written all over his face. His beautiful face. That stupid face!! That face to the body of a stupid demon who's acting like he didn't stupidly hear your confession of love (it wasn't even really a confession..)! That tipped you over the edge.

"What's up with me is that I said you were my type! You were there! You were there....and now you're pretending not to have heard me! That obviously means you don't like me, or at least not enough to mention it! It makes me feel so stupid, Satan. So, so unbelievably stupid. And I know it's not your fault, but sometimes I feel like what we do is pretty intimate, you know?! I mean when we read in your room I'm basically on top of you. A guy who doesn't like me should at least have the decency to stop me from making a fool out of myself. He should push me off him! I really like you, but you obviously don't reciprocate, so you should at least say somet-"

Your ramble is abruptly halted with a short, sweet peck on your cheek. You tilt your head a little to face the Cynical Fourth born, whose ears are fully crimson.

"Y-You.."

"(Name), I'm sorry. I didn't... really know how to bring it up. I told myself that I would later, after we got comfortable. Of course I'm into you. Who wouldn't be? You're amazing, funny, and kind, and you never fail to bring a smile to my face. I'm always quick to anger, as you know..but around you, I always find myself striving to be a better person. You keep me in check. I'm not just into you... I know for a fact that.. ᵗʰᵃᵗ ⁱ..ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ." He barely mumbles out the last part. Your smile grows wider and wider, before you all but pounce on the demon.

"I guess that would make us the perfect pair because I feel the exact way about you, 'Tan!"

Satan's smile is the widest you've ever seen. He doesn't know what the future has in store for him, but he knows that as long as you are by his side, there will be nothing he can't overcome.

𝗕𝗲𝗲𝗹𝘇𝗲𝗯𝘂𝗯

𖦹 He doesn't understand. He's your ideal type of what? He doesn't get it, so he just ignores the statement for a while and continues doing his daily activities.

𖦹 A few hours later, the thought of what you said resurfaces, and while filming his new DevilTube workout video with Asmodeus, Beel decides to ask what it means to be someone's "Ideal type." Once Asmo explains what it means and he finally understands and fully processes what you meant by the statement, he goes fully red. He's so embarrassed he didn't get that earlier. But at the same time, he's ecstatic. You're his type too!

𖦹 Poor guy can't even focus on his workout video. He wraps it up as quickly as possible, leaving Asmo with the editing, and makes a beeline for your room. He stops halfway.

𖦹 He's sweating like a pig...It would probably be best to freshen up before confronting you about what you said. He makes a mad dash to the shower, freshens up quickly, and then hastily makes his way to your room.

"(Name)? You in there?"

"Yeah! Come in, the door is unlocked." Your voice was muffled. "Sorry, I'm looking for a potions book Solomon lent to me. What's up? Asmo was texting the group chat about how you abandoned your "Deviltuber Duties"..or something," You giggled, still not facing him.

"Earlier..You said I was your ideal type. I didn't know what it meant, so I ignored it, but I know what it means now.." Beel confesses.

You freeze. "You heard that?!" You quickly turn around. You felt like all the blood you had in your human body was rushing straight to your face. Your eyes meet his, and you finally realize that the 6'4 demon's face is also decorated in a deep shade of red. You guys are practically matching at this point!

"(Name)... You should probably know that you're my type too. You've always accepted me and my brothers. You still treated Belphie with kindness even after the rough start you two had. I admired that about you. I'm okay with sharing my food if it's you. I've always thought you were amazing ever since the day you stood up for me and Luke. You didn't waver in front of Lucifer, who can be really scary at times...and it made me feel so warm. My feelings only grew from there."

You tear up a little. "Beel, you're so amazing. I don't know what I did to deserve someone like you."

"I think it's the other way around, (Name)." Beel leaves a chaste kiss on your lips and engulfs you in a warm hug.

The Gluttonous seventh-born knows he'll continue to treasure you forever. Beelzebub had never paid any mind to the sun at first because it never shined in the Devildom, but you changed that. You exuded light and radiance from the moment he met you. You were the sun. His sun. He's just so happy that he gets to be the one closest to your heart. You smile and indulge in his embrace, the potions book long forgotten.

a/n: ahhh it's done!! sorry for the wait omg :(( I'm thinking of what to write ab next but I hope ygs enjoyed this one! oh if anyone has any ideas on what I shld write abt next pleaseee lmk haha :)

[clubdionysus]

[BAD DECISION #4] The Gym

warnings: a gym. no further warning. oh and jk is sexy but what’s new?

soundtrack: 20 something - sza, angostura - keshi

wc: 4.1k

bd total wc: 540k (on-going)

minors dni | AO3 | series masterlist 

Glancing down to the address that Hoseok had hastily scribbled on a piece of scrap paper, you sigh. It's a hearty one. Clears your lungs. Gets your blood pumping a little swifter. There's a weight to staying alive, and it feels like it might just crush down on your windpipe and suffocate you altogether.

Okay, so maybe you're being dramatic. Maybe this is fine. You tell yourself to 'get a grip', but you know it's useless.

It's not that you're nervous - except for the fact you completely are - you just don't like the idea of gyms. They remind you of your ex a little too much. 

More specifically, how he'd force you to go along with him, and how you'd whine and moan, but spend the entire time laughing with him. How he'd lift you instead of weights. How he'd tell you that you look 'far too hot' in a pair of leggings and sports bra, and the way you'd keep them on until you got home just for the simple pleasure of him being the one to take them off.

So, yeah. You don't like gyms. Avoid them when you can.

Partially because you don't know which one he goes to anymore, but mainly because it feels like you can't breathe whenever you see a pair of shoulders almost broad enough to be his. There tend to be a lot of jacked guys in gyms. Makes it a more common occurrence.

Still, you've been trying to remedy that. Trying to face fears. Failing, but trying at least.

You swallow back the lump in your throat. Bite the bullet. Open the door. Easy. 

The girl at the front desk is potentially the most drop-dead gorgeous woman you've ever seen. Blonde, petite, a smile that could end wars. She's laughing with another member of staff - a trainer, you think - before he goes into a backroom.

You're a little unsure of yourself still, but she's glowing in such a way that it feels like maybe this could be okay. Nothing to fear. Plus who would even bother looking at a man's shoulders when someone who looks like she does is around? Far more captivating. Endlessly more appealing.

Her smile focuses on you as you walk towards her, brows lifted, eyes wide and open as if to say 'hiya! welcome!'. Her voice is just as chirpy as you imagine when she greets you.

"I don't think I recognise you," she says, questioning herself before she makes an introduction. "My name's Jiyeong, I'm a trainer here. Are looking to sign up for a membership?"

You shake your head and laugh a little awkwardly. You're not really dressed for the gym - a pair of sweats and a slouchy Carhartt tee. It's not sports gear appropriate for a place like this. Everyone's in skin-tight lycra, and they all look great wearing it. Makes you think that maybe you should try and get over this fear for good. Become one of those people.

"No, actually," you grimace a little awkward, voice sweet. You know you're gonna be asking for a favour, so try and fail to keep it short. Instead, you ramble a little. "I'm meeting someone here, but I don't have my phone - he's got it actually. Dumb accident. Long story actually, completely my fault - anyways, I was wondering if you'd be able to buzz me through so I could just grab it quickly? I'll be five seconds, in and out. Please."

It's at this point the corners of her mouth drop a little. Her lips press together. She's still smiling, but it doesn't reach her eyes anymore. "Hmm?"

"His name is Jeongguk," you begin to explain further - but then she smiles again and cuts you off.

"Oh, I don't think I know a Jeongguk?" She pouts a little. "Anyways, I'm really sorry but I can't let you through without a membership. Company policy. I really wish it wasn't the case, but they track the entry process."

You don't want to put her out. You've worked in customer service for long enough to know not to push company protocol. It's not worth getting fired over just to make a customer's life a tiny bit easier - and so you nod. 

"Of course, totally understand," you say as you glance over to the gate that allows access into the workout area. It needs a passcode. Can't even make a dash for it - although you're half tempted to when you see a couple come through the gate without a care in the world. It takes an absolute age to shut. "Do you guys do day memberships here? I literally just need to get in and out, but I'll pay for a day pass if I need to."

Something about Jiyeong is really throwing you off. She's smiling, and she looks like butter wouldn't melt, but there's a sourness to it all. There's no butter. Just curdled milk.

She winces apologetically. Shrugs. Brings her shoulders to her ears in a way you would have found sweet maybe five minutes ago. Shakes her head. 

"They're referral only. You'll need someone with a preexisting membership with you. But!" She chirps up. "We have a month pass you can purchase instead."

For all of your common sense faux pas, and the bad decisions that have led you here, you're not actually stupid. No gym in their right mind would actively try and sabotage their own earnings. She's spewing bullshit, but is somehow managing to make it smell like roses.

"A month?" You question, trying not to let your frustration show.

"Mhhm," she nods.

Her beauty seems to fade with every smile. Ironic, really. Her friendly demeanour is what had made her so attractive, and now it's shattering the illusion.

In any other circumstance, you'd say fuck it, and head home - but Jeongguk has your phone. 

You said you'd meet him here. You could wait until he finishes his workout but you have no idea when that will be, and you're still suffering from your hangover. You just want to get it over and done with, so you say, "Alright, I'll sign up for a month. No rolling contract."

"No rolling contract," she nods. "Okay. Just need a few details from you."

There's a form to fill out; payment details to be given. A box to tick: which trainer helped you sign-up? Small print: Trainers earn a small commission for every sign-up. Please ask for their name. 

You're half tempted to check another trainer's name, but she's watching you like a fucking hawk.

Should have just chosen the club. Would have been easier. Could have even made a night of it - it's a Saturday after all. But no, you and your tiny marble brain thought that the gym would be easier? Better?

Ridiculous. Hoseok had been right all along. It was the worst choice you'd made all week.

"You're all ready," she smiles as you lament the choices of your past self. She says a goodbye that sounds friendly but feels like a fuck you. You're not sure what exactly you've done to rub her up the wrong way, but you'd quite like it if you never rubbed shoulders with her again.

There's a mechanical whir as you enter a pin into the gate. It opens for you with a small beep, and you feel like your throat is closing up a little bit. There's a wrought iron staircase leading up to the weight area, the bottom level focused more on machines and cardio. A third floor is reserved for studios and private classes according to the signage, so you decide he's probably not there.

You don't know much about this man, but you have seen him without a shirt on. The weight area seems like a safe bet. 

There's an uncomfortable discord in your chest as you head up to the second floor, your black high-top chucks padding against the metal gently. Hair up, not even trying to pretend like you're not still hanging, part of you regrets dressing so casually.

Your skin feels all hot and clammy, and you know exactly why, but you try and convince yourself that it's just the hangover. That's all it is.

It'll pass, you tell yourself. In and out. You're alright.

Jeongguk notices you before you notice him. He's by the mirrors. Caught sight of you, your eyes all wide and worried - presumably in search of him -  as he was checking his form. Putting his weight down, he turns to face you a little more straight on, which is what draws your focus to him.

"Hey," he says a little breathlessly, a tone of surprise evident. He whips a towel over his shoulder, and you're reminded of how he looked behind the bar of Dionysus. Dabs at his face a little. Shakes his head to adjust the hair that is stuck to his forehead from his workout.

"What are you doing up here?" He asks tenderly, conscious of the fact you look like you've seen a ghost. He's aware he probably doesn't look his best, but he didn't think he looked that bad. "I told Jiyeong to let me know when you arrived. Was just gonna bring it down, save you the hassle."

"Oh," you reply, a little stuck on your words. The burning in your throat is subduing. The pressure on your chest feels a little lighter. 

"Sorry, I -" you begin, and then you remember who the fuck you are. You hate being like this. Hate when you get panicked. Hate that he seems to be looking at you with concern. Also hate that Jiyeong is apparently a massive dick, but you'll choose to be frustrated about that later. "I actually have a membership here."

Joy.

Jeongguk hums in surprise, head tilting, mouth forming a cute little 'o'. "You do? Never seen you here before."

Wonder why.

"Oh yeah, here all the time," you nod, because apparently Jiyeong isn't the only one who fancies being a big old liar today. And then you smile. Flirt. "Like, maybe even more than you."

Now, this he does raise a brow at. Smirks. Picks up his weight as he moves to straddle the bench beside him. He sits down and places the weight beneath his arms for something to lean on. "Not so sure about that."

He's wearing black chucks, too. Slouchy black tee. The only real difference is that he's in shorts. Your lips curve upwards, but you catch them before he notices.

"I'm just always downstairs," you shrug, playing off your little white lie like it's no biggie. "Surprised I haven't seen you about here, either."

You don't mean to be such an egregious liar, you're just embarrassed. Ashamed. Disconcerted by the fact you know you looked like a lost puppy when you arrived, and also how you know Jiyeong totally played some weird power move on you. You're not sure what to make of it. Don't like it, but also will likely never see her again. Not worth it. Not over some guy you don't intend on ever seeing again, either.

The logical assumption to be made is that she's involved with him in some capacity. Makes sense. He doesn't seem like the kind of guy to get lonely in the early hours.

Jeongguk accepts your bullshit. He knows it's bullshit because he does cardio as much as he does weights - anyone with an inkling of gym knowledge would be able to tell. He's sure you have your own niche, things that would win you points on a pub quiz, but the gym? Doesn't seem likely.

"Phones just in my locker," he tells you as he gets to his feet again, lifting his weight like it's a cup of coffee. You've no idea how much it weighs. Doubt you'd be able to make it look that effortless. "I'm just finishing up. Can you wait, like, five minutes? Or do you have places to be?"

His skin is dappled in rivulets of sweat. There's too much to take in visually, so you focus on his voice, instead. It's soft. Tender. Kind, you think. 

And so despite the fact there's no place you'd rather be less, you smile. Nod. "I can wait."

He nods back, says thank you, and gets back to his weights. He does a few more reps just to get to his daily goal, and then sets about clearing his area; puts the weights back on the rack, wipes down his bench. Runs his hand through his damp hair. Exhales a deep breath before turning to face you with a smile.

You wonder if he can notice the drool you've been trying not to let slip. 

He can't - but finds it curious how he didn't catch your gaze a single time during his final few reps. The gym is relatively quiet at this time of day, so there's no one in the immediate vicinity. Whenever he'd glanced in the mirror, your eyes were elsewhere.

One place in particular. 

The other mirror; one that's angled in such a way you can see his side profile. Jeongguk's aware of it. Had kind of positioned himself in line with it on purpose. 

"What's so interesting?" he asks and is met with a confused hum. Does he really think you're gonna admit to checking him out? Dream on. "You were just like... absorbed by that mirror. Good reflection?"

"Oh," you mumble, cheeks deepening in tone - and yet your poker face is just so good. "Was zoned out. Didn't notice."

He doesn't call you out on it any further. For all he knows, you could be telling the truth.

You wait for him by the entryway gate as he gets changed. Jiyeong watches you from the corner of her eye, being as discreet as she possibly can - but you can feel her eyes on you. In fact, she's as good at discretion as you were when you were watching Jeongguk work out.

When he finally emerges in a pair of grey shorts and hoodie, you smile. So does Jiyeong. 

He greets you. Ushers you through the gate. Says hi and bye to Jiyeong. Puts a hand on the top of your back as he opens the front door of the gym, but insists you walk through first. 

"How are you feeling today?" He asks as you make your way down the path that leads to the subway station. "Still rough?"

"That obvious?" You laugh. "Ouch. Thanks, dude."

"No," he laughs back. "You're forgetting I was the only sober person in my apartment last night. You drank enough to kill a person."

"That's not true," you accuse, before deflecting the blame. "Was all you and your Purple Starfuckers. Bloody lethal."

"Bloody brilliant," he counters. There's an ease as you walk side by side. You chalk it up to finally being out of the gym. Feels like you can breathe again. "Tell me you didn't keep coming back for more."

He has a point. You're surprised you didn't all drink the bar dry. But you simply laugh. Tap the crease of his elbow lightly with the back of your hand. 

He's smiling, too.

"Tell me you didn't keep giving me them for free! On the house! What kind of maniac turns down free drinks?!"

You've got a point. He can't argue against it - so instead he just gets a little argumentative. It's all in good fun. Shared humour. 

"Well then next time, you'll get nothing on the house, how about that? Not even water."

You snort a little, pushing your head back as you do so. You pass the first subway exit, with no idea if you're heading in the right direction for one another. Neither of you asks; neither of you declares. 

"Next time?" You scoff, still hanging. "I'm never drinking again."

"Heard that one before."

"I mean it. This hangover has written me off. Work almost killed me."

He wonders where you work. Wonders if the work is gruelling, or if you'd been able to recover in peace. He hopes for the latter. Would tease you if it's the former.

"You working tomorrow?" he pipes up. There's curiosity in his tone, but not enough for you to realise just how intrigued he is by you.

He's never seen a girl walk out on Jimin before. Ever. It's kind of remarkable. He wants to know why. Doesn't want to ask why, though.

You shake your head. "Day off." 

Thank god.

Jeongguk considers his options. He knows full well, walk-out or not, that you fucked Jimin last night. It adds complexity. Makes him unsure of his next steps. 

It's not like he's trying to get in your pants - he'd never hear the end of it from the boys if he went for Jimin's leftovers - but he'd be a liar if he said he didn't like your presence at the bar last night.

Not just you. All three of you. You've good energy. He enjoys the nights when punters are actually fun. If tonight is gonna be busy, he'd rather it be busy on his own terms.

"DJ's are doing a throwback theme tonight," he hums, and the way you stop in your tracks is beyond satisfying for him. He loves it when a plan comes together.

"Throwbacks, you say?"

He stops too, and turns to look at you with a slight air of nonchalance. There's a shrug to his broad shoulders, which remarkably don't remind you of your exes, his wide eyes soft as a subtle smile graces his lips. "All bangers."

"Define bangers," you challenge.

And oh, how Jeon Jeongguk loves a challenge. 

"Well," he says as he begins walking again. You follow. "Last time there were a LOT of old-school Taylor Swift songs."

"Keep talking."

"Timbaland, Rihanna - I'm talking proper noughties classics."

"I'm listening."

"Outkast, Coldplay, Arctic Monkeys-"

"Offt."

"-Kanye, Mika, you name it. One Direction, fuckin' anything. They'll play it."

"Do they take requests?"

"Well, no I didn't mean they'll literally play anything you name," he laughs. "But you've got an in." He points at himself, seemingly proud of that fact. "I can get them to play whatever you want."

"Offt, I love having friends in high places," you muse, to which he tells you to 'fuck off' with the biggest grin on his face you've seen all day. "I'll think about it. You on the bar?"

He nods. "I am indeed."

"Hmm. Makes it less tempting."

Jeongguk wants to fight back, but knows that he'd probably end up flirting, and it's not his intention - so he changes the topic. 

"Jimin might be there, too. A friendly face."

He doesn't notice the way your face scrunches up a little uncomfortably. 

"I'm not really sure that'll sway me," you tell him. "Was a one-time thing. Sorry about that, again. Waking you, I mean. Not cool."

You really do believe your words - after all, Jeongguk had been the one to return your phone, not Jimin. Chivalry is dead, and apparently men get their housemates to return glass slippers, these days.

It's kind of Jeongguk's own fault.

Jimin doesn't know you've lost it. Jeongguk hasn't told him. Isn't sure why. Didn't really think about it at the time.

"It's fine, really. And I've lived with Jimin long enough to know it's never just a one-time thing."

"I'm an exception."

"Believe it when I see it."

And suddenly you feel challenged now - but you're by the final subway entrance. You've walked past three exits already. Should have really taken the first. Couldn't bring yourself to end the conversation earlier. 

However, now that the conversation has turned towards the topic of Jimin, you find yourself less inclined to continue it. You'd rather not be reminded of your questionable drunk decisions in the cold, sober light of day.

"This is me," you tell him. 

"Ah." He stops walking. Pauses. Looks at his Chuck Taylor-clad feet as he stands in front of you. He's holding onto the strap of his rucksack as he asks, "So you'll be at the club tonight?"

When he looks up, he's nibbling down on his bottom lip—toying with his lip ring. There's a hesitancy to his words, as if he's afraid you might say no.

You pretend as if you're weighing up your options, shifting your weight from foot to foot, lips pursed. You know if you propose the idea to Hoseok he'll jump at the chance to get shitfaced again, and where the pair of you venture, Danbi will surely follow. It's inevitable that you will end up at Dionysus tonight. 

But you simply smile and say, "Maybe."

He rolls his eyes, and it makes you laugh. He laughs, too. It's sweet, the way his energy matches yours. There's an ease to your rapport. You think it must be incredibly easy to be his friend. 

"Promise me a free Purple Starfucker, and I'll consider it a little bit more," you bargain.

He runs his tongue along the inside of his cheek, as he readjusts his bag over his shoulder, shaking his head a little. His eyes are glossy, and dark, and you think they look just like black treacle.  

"Maybe."

"Okay then," you nod. "See you maybe, Jeongguk."

He nods back. "See you maybe, Disco Ball."

"I won't come if you call me a disco ball again," you shout back as you descend down the stairs, leaving him by the exit.

He chooses not to banter back, scared he could ruin the moment; make things awkward, somehow. Instead, he turns on his heel, and begins retracing his steps. 

His turning was three junctions ago. He'd carried on walking just to talk bullshit with you. He chalks it up to him being too awkward to cut the conversation off. 

See, he might like a challenge, but he's plagued by the realities of them, too. Hates the idea of people not liking him. Wants to be loved universally, so refuses to embark on endeavours that could prove otherwise. He's Mr What If, and he's quite content that way. 

Jeongguk's nearly by the first crossing when he hears you shouting after him. You're a little breathless. Panting. He knows there's absolutely no way you do cardio.

"Wait, wait!" You call all flustered and hurried. "Jeongguk! Wait!" 

He's already waiting. The lights are still red. You're too concerned by your own internal panic to notice.

"Phone!" You almost wail, before you laugh. Inhale. Rest your palms on your knees. Exhale. Look up towards him. "My phone, Jeongguk! You still have my phone."

"Oh, shit," he laughs, pulling off his rucksack and fishing about for it. Seems so stupid to have forgotten about it. His cheeks are hot. 

It's returned promptly, apologies tumbling from his lips like laughter is falling from yours.

"This was all part of your plan, wasn't it?" You narrow your eyes accusingly. "Was gonna keep it so I had to go to the club."

He raises his arms, hands next to his ears, palms spread open, as if he's holding a white flag. "You caught me."

But it'll be Jeongguk catching you later - or at least your gaze, as he reciprocates a knowing smile when you inevitably end up in Dionysus, ready to make all the wrong choices all over again.

AO3 | MASTERLIST | NEXT

[sirrockem]

TADC RACEWAY AU - SETH ART DUMP

Raceway AU and Seth belong to @thescarletnargacuga / @theamazingdigitalraceway

MUSIC USED: Ricochet - Guilty Gear XX #Reload (Korean version)

MORE RENDERS UNDER THE CUT! CONTENT WARNING: Smoking

BONUS: Model turnaround and expression test:

Aaaaaand here it is! This took a lot longer to make than I would like to admit, but I think I'm at a point where I can consider this finished.

A massive shout out goes to Scarlet, the creator of this character and AU! Consider this a gift, for being such an awesome writer and person!

…Okay, I'm gonna go on a ramble now. You don't have to read it if you don't want to. I just have a few things I'd like to say:

-

So, I'm not a professional artist by any means, but you probably noticed that already. Actually, this is my first time making any kind of art in a very long time, but after getting into the TADC fandom and discovering such an amazing array of artists and writers, I felt compelled to give a little something back. Prove that I could create, not only consume, I guess.

There's a part of me that's pretty scared to post this. This fandom is full of creators with incredible, well-developed artistic skill… and then there's me, stumbling in with this polygonal mess. It's intimidating, y'know? I feel like a kid showing off his crayon drawings to his parents. I know it's ultimately pointless to compare myself to people with actual years of experience under their belts, but my brain still goes there regardless.

Well, it's not like too many people are gonna see this anyway, right? I'm just glad I was even able to finish this. That's not something I get to say very often. There were so many times where my brain was telling me that this was too hard, and that I should just give up. For once, I decided to say "No", and pushed on through anyway, despite my limited artistic abilities.

Oh, and Scarlet, if you're reading this… thank you so very much. Seriously, your work has given me so much joy and inspiration, and you're a really cool person to boot. I couldn't have done this if it wasn't for you!

Sorry if I'm being overly sappy, I just wanted to express my gratitude to you, and this whole community. I'm happy that I chose to be a part of it, even if it's just in a small way.

Alright, I think I've talked for long enough. I'm gonna shut up now.

[miasmaghoul]

treat for the braincell: dew absolutely desperate for aether. so pent up that as soon as aether pushes in dew cums >:)

Crow, you give me such wonderful treats. I'm sorry I sent the brain cell back filled with piss. ♡

(This is a lie.)

Anyway - HAPPY TRANSGHOUL TUESDAY!

Dewdrop huffs as he stares out the common room window.

"You keep doing that and your lungs are gonna collapse," Swiss comments from his reclined spot on the couch. "And quit pacing, you're gonna put a hole in the rug." Dew scowls over his shoulder.

"They were supposed to be back an hour ago," he gripes. "What the fuck is taking so long?" Swiss gives a snort.

"It's been two weeks, and now you're getting impatient?"

"Fuck off," Dew mutters, slouching and staring once again at the wide, gravelled path that connects the abbey to the rest of the world. "I'm allowed to be impatient."

A beat of silence follows, something behind him shifts, and a moment later comforting arms wrap around his waist. Swiss rests his chin on Dew's shoulder and Dew doesn't try to shrug him off.

"You really miss him, huh?" Dew huffs again.

"Yeah," he lets himself admit, almost too soft to be heard. "Yeah, I really fuckin' do."

He can't help it. He hasn't been away from Aether this long since he was first summoned. It's making him feel off balance. Itchy. He's done his best to remain nonchalant about the ache his absence carves into his chest, to push it aside and carry on with life as usual. But when Aether had finally texted him that their plane had landed, any attempts at hiding his restlessness had flown right out the window. So here he stands. Waiting.

Swiss gives him a reassuring squeeze.

"Don't worry too much, Sparky. They'll be back before you know it."

Dew tries not to grumble his frustration. The pressure of Swiss at his back is soothing, in a way. His steady grip keeps Dew's feet on the ground even as his mind wanders.

Aether and Cumulus were the only ones taken along for this particular press tour, chosen via the ancient ritual of Copia pulling names out of his mitre. Everyone else remained behind, and yet somehow Dew still felt...lonely, if he had to put a word to it. Like something was missing.

Sure, Mountain is great to sleep next to, but he's missing Aether's softness. Sure, Swiss can fuck him within an inch of his life, but he's missing Aether's gentle touch and calming presence. Sure, Rain can get him on his knees without fail, but he's missing Aether's specific brand of dominance. Dew loves all his ghouls, to be sure, but Aether is the only one who gets to hear him say it.

They've texted every day, stilted conversations that had Dew twitching every time his phone buzzed. Some nights Aether called him, rambling on in that soothing voice about the events of the previous day - about press junkets and the occasional acoustic performance, about Copia's continual inability to give a decent interview, about anything and everything Aether could possibly want to talk about. Dew would put him on speaker and simply...listen. If he closed his eyes and hugged a pillow just so, he could almost pretend Aether wasn't on a different continent.

The time difference was miserable in a lot of ways, but mainly because by the time Aether was done for the day it was the dead of night at the abbey. They'd tried to make time for one another beyond simple conversation - Dew had made it all of a day and a half before demanding a dick pic - but they'd only managed it once. A single too-hurried facetime call at 4am a week ago, not nearly enough to satisfy Dew's unmatched need for the other ghoul. For the past two weeks, no matter who or how often he fucked, all he wanted was Aether.

Dew offers a soft whine of protest when Swiss's arms slip from his waist, eyes cracking open. He hadn't realized he'd closed them. The other ghoul chuckles.

"Quit complaining, spitfire." He gives Dew a quick peck on the cheek, gesturing at the window. "Look."

Dewdrop does, and every bit of fire in him flares to life. Rumbling down the road is a familiar black van, dust kicking up behind it on the way to the abbey's doors. That hollow ache in his chest goes searing hot instead, and before Swiss can get another word out Dew bolts for the hallway. His bootfalls and Swiss's rasping laughter echo off the stone walls, but all Dew can hear is the rush of his own blood. He makes it to the main entrance in record time, shoving the massive double doors open with a grunt.

Dew's eyes fall on a broad back and mussed black hair immediately, ragged breaths catching in his suddenly dry throat. Aether is facing the van, organizing luggage, while Cumulus and Copia look through some paperwork. Dew's body wants to move, to fling itself against Aether's familiar form and never let go. If they were alone, he would. As it is, his mind forces him to resist. Dew rubs sweaty palms on his jeans and schools his face into something calm as he heads outside, hunting for some appropriately bitchy words to throw Aether's way.

That plan lasts all of three seconds, right up until Aether unexpectedly turns to set down a suitcase and catches sight of the little ghoul. Their eyes lock, and everything else seems to fade. Dew freezes mid-step under the weight of his gaze, the unpleasant ache in his chest melting into something much more familiar. Something hot and urgent that has his already uneven pulse going thready.

Dew doesn't see Aether move, doesn't hear his footfalls, but he's suddenly wrapped tight in strong arms and surrounded by the heady scent of ozone and menthol. Surrounded by Aether.

"Fuck, it's good to see you, Dew." Aether's voice is like a soothing balm, and every bit of Dew's composure disintegrates.

"Aeth," he whispers into the other ghoul's wrinkled shirt. Aether's embrace is crushing, and as Dew wraps his own skinny arms around Aether's waist he finds himself wishing he could sink right into his skin. "Aeth." Fuck, is he crying? That feels pathetic. Aether presses a kiss into his hair and Dew shivers.

"Hey, baby boy," he breathes, the words soft enough for only Dew to hear. He appreciates it. "I missed you." Aether straightens up and Dew whimpers. Aether makes a gentle shushing sound. "Look at me, let me see you."

Dew reluctantly pulls back from the comfort of Aether's chest with a small noise of discontent, blinking through a haze of something that was definitely not tears. When it clears, he finds Aether looking at him with an intensity he's never seen before. It makes his stomach go red hot and his knees turn to jelly. The smile that splits Aether's face is nothing short of adoring.

"There's my firefly."

Dew swears the world tilts when Aether kisses him. Every last bit of anxiety and frustration he'd been filled with in the common room vanishes, replaced by a flood of something he can't quite name. It's warm and familiar, radiating out from Dew's lips and filling his skull. It makes him feel...complete. He thinks he could bask in this forever.

But then Aether licks at his lip, and the wave of immediate arousal that crashes through him has Dew's closed eyes crossing. He opens up immediately, and the moment Aether's tongue meets his own Dewdrop's cunt throbs to hard he grunts. The arms around him tighten as Aether swallows down the noise, and it serves to press Dew's thigh directly into his crotch. Aether gasps into his mouth, shifts his hips and - oh fuck he's so hard.

Dew breaks the kiss with great effort and greater need, panting and glassy eyed. Aether's face is flushed dark, pupils blown, and Dew is hit with the most vibrant flash of that handsome face between his legs. He knees buckle with how tightly he clenches his thighs, and Dew can feel an embarrassing amount of slick soak into his boxers. Aether's nostrils flare and Dew thinks if he has to go five more minutes without Aether inside him he'll fall to ashes.

Dew slips a hand to the front of Aether's jeans and the pain on his face is staggering. It throbs against his fingers, and before he can say another word Aether's hands are at the backs of his thighs, hauling him up. Dew lets out a surprised chirp, hooking his legs around Aether's waist and arms around his neck. Aether hold him so tightly that the seam of Dew's jeans presses against his suddenly aching clit and he can't keep himself from grinding into Aether's belly. It rips a groan from both of them, and when Aether starts speedwalking back to the dorms the motion only makes things worse. He's breathless in less than a minute, flushed face buried in the crook of Aether's neck and shoulder.

"I can feel how hot you are," Aether coos, fingers digging into Dew's already quivering thighs. "You're gonna get my shirt wet if you aren't careful."

He has no business sounding so put together when Dew feels like he's about to fall apart. He can't find the words he wants to spit back, choosing instead to mouth at the other ghoul's stubbled jaw. The scratch of it against his lips is intoxicating.

"Aeth," he whines, hips twitching, "hurry."

The moan Aether lets out then is, in a word, wrecked. He picks up the pace, and by the time they're barreling into Aether's bedroom Dew is drooling down his throat, soaking the collar of his shirt. He's never felt so thoroughly out of his mind, not even in his heat. His skin is electric and there's magma in his veins. Aether kicks the door shut behind them and slams Dew into it, crashing their mouths together and gripping the little ghoul's hips.

Dew's hands shake as they thread into Aether's thick hair, moaning into the mess of teeth and tongues that could only technically be called a kiss. Two weeks of pent up emotions and raw, primal need tear through the pair of them, reflected in filthy noises and groping hands. One of Aether's slips up his shirt, thumbs over a nipple, and Dew's whole body goes taut. He paws at Aether's chest, head thudding against the door as he struggles to breathe.

"S-stop, Aeth you -" Dew gives a reedy cry when Aether tugs one of his rings, back arching. "Gonna cum if you don't." The other ghoul makes a gut-punched sound.

"Then cum, sweetheart," Aether pants, "I need to see you cum more than you know." His other thumb dips beneath Dew's waistband. It's so rough against the soft skin there, too much and not enough. Dew gives a vehement shake of his head.

"Not - fuck - not like this, please Aeth," Dew pleads, fixing the other ghoul with hooded, unfocused eyes. "Inside, need it in me, I need it, I -"

Aether cuts him off with another kiss and Dewdrop is certain he's losing his fucking mind. It's like every thing is brand new but somehow familiar, a dizzying combination that has his stomach clenching. Aether moves quickly, crossing to the bed and peeling the little ghoul off of him.

"Baby boy, I needed to be inside you a week ago."

Dew's head swims when Aether pulls away just enough to unzip, freeing his fat, flushed cock from the confines of his jeans. He gives a single slow stroke, milks out a pearly bead of pre. Dew yearns to taste it, to have Aether overwhelming every one of his senses, but before he can get a word out the other ghoul grips his waistband and yanks him to the edge of the bed. Aether makes quick work of his belt and button fly, tugging his jeans and underwear down to his thighs. The scent of his slick fills the air, warm spice and sea salt, and Dew chokes on his tongue when Aether drags two thick fingers through his silky folds.

"Fuck, you're soaked." The reverence in the words has Dew's cheeks heating, and the sight of Aether smearing his slick over his cock makes his stiff, shiny clit throb.

"Aether-"

"I know."

With that Aether grips his skinny waist and moves Dew to his knees and elbows, worshipful hands stroking over his shirt and coming to rest at his hips. Dew feels the broad head prod at his entrance, and the desperation overwhelms him entirely.

"Put it in, do it - c'mon, you - gimme it, gimme your dick, make me -ahh!"

Dew's words melt into a high, feminine moan as Aether shoves the head in...and doesn't stop. Dew's eyes slam shut, his fists white knuckled in soft sheets. Aether makes the most woefully stunned noise, one that has Dew's toes curling as he sinks deeper and deeper and -

Aether bottoms out, hips flush against his ass, and Dew's orgasm hits him like a fucking bus, hot shocks of pleasure rocketing up his spine and slick spilling out around Aether's cock slotted so perfectly inside him. Like a missing piece of something deep him has been returned to its rightful home.

Then Aether moves, and the drag of the flared head over his still-clenching walls has Dew wailing. Aether's pace is perfectly brutal, driving Dew headlong towards a second release before the first has even faded. He yips with every forceful thrust, drooling into the sheets below. Aether shifts suddenly, leaning down to hook an arm under Dew's hips, and the new angle forces tears to his eyes. Aether leans down when the first one falls, kissing it away and licking at the shell of his ear for good measure.

"Tell me if it's too much," Aether pants into his ear, "otherwise I'm not stopping."

Two fingers stroke the short, hard length of his clit and Dewdrop screams.

"Never fucking stop."

[00ops1e]

Sunshine for Everyone pt.2

Pricefield! Fluff!

Life is Strange - Max Caufield x Chloe Price

After saving Chloe at the expense of Arcadia Bay, our favorite girls are forced to flee their hometown. It soon becomes apparent that while they can run from the storm, running from their desires just isn't plausible.

click here for part one

“I swear I could sleep forever,” Max mutters, cuddling into the blanket further. The motel had proven to be a good idea, using someone else’s hot water and blankets was always nice. The pair were too tired to even notice the television only had four channels, or that the mattress was a little lumpy. Maybe things just weren’t so bad if they had each other.

“We can stay as long as you'd like,” Chloe trails off, “s’cheap enough anyways we deserve a vacation.” she babbles with eyes half closed, no longer sure of her words. The girls lay in bed, inches between. The last room available happened to be a single, and she had managed to haggle the price down, so fucking score again. When the man in the office mentioned the single bed, Chloe felt something flutter deep in her gut. It was a giddy, childlike feeling, but muddled with some sort of anxiety. 

Max shifted in the bed, mind still racing, “Will you hold me?” She heard the words fall from her lips before they even registered in her brain. The question appears to catch both girls off guard. It hung in the air for a moment, Max began to babble, face growing red, “I- 'm sorry I really didn’t mean to… I just, I can't stop it's all too much. I don’t know what's w-wrong with me.”

Without hesitation, she pulls the smaller girl into her arms, as if rehearsed, as if Chloe had been waiting a lifetime. Instantly the tension evicts Max’s body. The sweet musk of her shampoo, perfume, whatever it was completely enveloped Chloe. Holding her tight just felt natural, like all was well with the world. Comforting others has never come easy for Chloe, always awkward, never knowing what to say or do. Not with Max though, she made everything easy. Existing with her felt like hearing an old song and singing along perfectly, yet recalling none of the lyrics. She traces small circles into Max’s back, the smaller girl somewhat buried in her chest.

“There is nothing wrong with you,” Chloe starts, angry at the world for putting her max through all of this, “y-you didn't ask for any of this. You shouldn't have seen even half the shit you did. Max, I swear to you if there was a way I could take it all away, I’d do it.” Max looks up at her, tears in those beautiful blue eyes threatening to spill. A pang of fear hits Chloe right in the gut. Did she say something wrong? Did Chloe cause those tears? 

She begins to ramble, “Shit, I’m not saying I'm not glad I found you again, or that you shouldn’t have saved me or-or anything like that,” a sense of urgency laced her tone, god she was supposed to be helping not making it worse. “I just- I wish I could fix it, seriously Max. I am so so fucking happy you’re with me again. I don’t know, I guess, i-i just feel like it's all my fault” Her voice thickened towards the end, holding back a sob. ‘This is not about you Chloe,’ she thinks, reprimanding herself for being so selfish. But the guilt had been festering, gnawing at her organs like some feral dog with a bone. She was the reason the whole world had turned upside down.

“C-Chloe,” Max mumbled, sitting up to look at her properly. With shaky hands, she took the girl's face in her hands. Forcing Chloe to meet her eyes, hands lingering on her cheeks a bit too long before pushing the messy blue hair behind her ears. Her hands rest languidly on Chloe’s shoulders, reassuring her somehow. Max sat and contemplated her next words before answering, “None of this was you, okay? This is some freak-supernatural stuff okay? I do not blame you. Do you hear me? Please don't ever think that. I’d go through it all again if it meant I had you. Chloe, you're my best friend.”

It was like Max was able to reach inside and undo the knots in Chloe’s stomach. No one had ever done so with such ease, such grace. Not even Rachel, though that hurt to admit. Max just knew her, regardless of the years apart. Deep down, way below the rough punk girl exterior, Chloe was still the same little girl Max had grown up with. A soft smile inched its way to the surface, god how could she not smile looking at her? The way her hair fell, perfectly framed those soft doe eyes. Those fucking freckles and long lashes. The way Max would look up at her, eyelids heavy, how could anyone keep a straight face? Chloe hadn’t realized she was staring until she felt a soft squeeze on her shoulder.

“Thank you,” Chloe mustered up, embarrassment pricking at her cheeks. She shifted in place, yearning for closeness once more. These feelings, they can't be normal. Max’s words reverberate in her skull, ‘my best friend’  they stung a little. Those ten letters formed a lump in her throat, a pit in her chest. The words had some sort of mal effect on her, and she just couldn’t pinpoint the reason. Chloe once again chalked it up to just feeling weird about Arcadia.

The blank look in Chloe’s eyes prompts Max to speak. Whatever had her in such a trance could not possibly be kind. Max used a shaky hand to brush the girl’s cheek, “Do you think we could get some sleep now?” she proposed, pulling Chloe from the complexities that danced in her mind. 

She nods silently and lays her head on the pillow, wriggling slightly to settle in. Max drapes an arm around her shoulders, pulling that mess of blue hair onto her chest. Upon feeling the weight on her chest, Max lets out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. This was a comfort unknown to her, never before had she felt this light. An absentminded hand travels to Chloe’s hair, despite all the bleach and dye damn it was soft. With her fingers tangled in the blue locks, everything felt right in the world.

“Everything that happened was so terrible,” Max breathes, wanting to offer one final comfort before slumber claimed them both, “It was so terrible, we’re not okay. But we’re gonna be. We can work through it Price, we’re a team and-and we can heal together. I’ll help you, we don't have to face things alone.” max consoled, her voice wavering ever so slightly. 

“It's you and me against the world Caufield, now and forever,” Chloe assured, tightening her grip on the smaller girl, as if afraid she’d get snatched away, “seriously max, what would I do without you?” she let out a small chuckle before closing her eyes and passing out, still entangled with her best friend.

I have yet to begin writing the rest of this (call of duty brainrot is taking over my life) but i promise my google doc has many many ideas. stay tuned ig? lots of love, liz

[chaotic-tired-cat]

Hey I was wondering If you plan on updating your legacy fic on Ao3, It was really good I've read it multiple times. Although it took me awhile but on like my 6th or seventh re-read I just realized the names of the chapter titles make a really good poem though I'm unsure if that's intentional or not.

Almost everything midoyria does I'd a giant metaphor with him being a gardener planting seeds in the present for the sake of the future. No matter how much he refused to directly fight his brother it seems like he's been planning this kind of thing for hundreds of years. I wouldn't be surprised if One for All was behind the creation of UA or everything going on in its current society.

-Sorry for the long paragraph your story is wild and completely insane, I really want to read about everyone's expression of shock when he come out because otherwise I'm pretty sure they'll never find out otherwise who he is as AFO brother.

Heyo, I am thriving abt your ask! It gave me fuel to go back and edit a bit of Legacy's next chapter. Also, I'm downright flattered that you've read Legacy so many times!! Considering it a huge compliment. Losing my mind. I am very hopeful for reveals to live up to expectations. And yep! The poem by Clare Harner is 100% on purpose. I'm including corresponding imagery in each chapter/title as a scavenger hunt of themes and more literal moments, though some (like Ripened Grain -> Harvest/Seasons/time passing -> Ochako eating rose petals & students moving towards self-sufficiency) are pretty abstract.

Gardening!! Learning to think of life and potential happiness beyond the next immediate harvest is a big theme and you're absolutely correct on that. Cannot confirm or deny suspicions on what specifically is in the works for Izuku, but please know I am delighted with what you said. To tide you over, I added a tiny & mildly unedited snippet under the readmore that your ask me very impatient to share.

Legacy absolutely will be updated and finished. I'm just dealing with a limitation irl where prolonged typing is difficult sometimes. (Feel free to poke me whenever for a snippet, though! I know the agony of waiting ages for a fic to update and wouldn't wish it on anyone.)

Legacy spoilers beyond this point:

“Why gardening?” Tsukauchi asks finally, wrapping chilled hands around his coffee cup. “From what I'm understanding, you’ve been around long enough to get practiced at pretty much anything. Why… plants?”

He doesn't mean it in a rude way, and Midoriya smiles a bit at the blunt curiosity Tsukauchi cannot help.

“Because they’re like us,” he says. 

Tsukauchi gives him a bewildered look. “Plants?”

“They can’t be completed,” Midoriya says firmly. It sounds like a lesson that was hard learned. “I can make my garden better. I can plant seeds and weed it, I can water it and fret over every last insect that enters it, but it will never be finished. There will never be a point where I’m done and can abandon it. Somehow, people do it anyway. They keep trying.”

Tsukauchi frowns. “So this whole time, it’s been a metaphor for.. what? Mental health?”

“Finding happiness,” Midoriya says. “Or maybe it’s just a hobby paired with an old man’s ramblings.”

His statement rings true for both. Midoriya brushes dirt off his hands and uses his wrist to push green hair back. Sometimes Tsukauchi wonders if Midoriya’s original quirk was earth or plant related, and if All for One swapped it with an immortality one before anyone knew any better. It’s impossible to tell.

Tsukauchi washes the thought back with bitter coffee and winces when it burns his tongue. “That’s a complex game to play.”

“Not a game,” Midoriya tells him. He sets aside his tools and stands up. Here in the garden, Midoriya seems more at home than he could ever be on a battlefield. 

Nezdu sees it too.

He asked Tsukauchi to meet with him and Nighteye tomorrow about possibly placing Midoriya in a modified track for heroics. Nothing will happen without the groundskeeper indicating he’s like a life in the very industry that’s protecting him, but it’s a good plan. If he gets a heroics license, Midoriya will have a job waiting for him at UA once the investigation is over.

Even Tsuakuchi can see the heroic spirit Midoriya carries.

Toshinori says he's a good teacher, too.

[Yall, it's so hard not to add the following three paragraphs to this snippet, but they are low-key massive spoilers. apostriavin, those lines are now dedicated to you.]

[redroom-rainbowguts]

The Doll in the Mirror

Naga trans male x cis bird shifter female

Cw: dubcon, hypno, minor breath play, mind break

Word count: 3660

Sylvie belongs to @quiescentlunacy I'm sorry for using her as a squeaky toy it will happen again 😔

“Do you like it?” Kieren held up a lingerie set dangling from a hanger. He waved it a little, cheeks already flushing just from seeing the baby pink satin frills next to Sylvie. Her heart sank.

It really was a beautiful set. A modest lace trim that would leave just enough to the imagination to entice whoever gazed upon the wearer, multiple harness straps that, though complicated to get on, would emphasize each and every curve of her body, and a sheer outer layer that was so thin it would flow almost like magic from every subtle breeze that ran through it (and there was no scarcity down here in his cave).

Sylvie might have been happy with the gift, if not a bit embarrassed, had it been from someone she actually loved.

“It is lovely-” Sylvie gritted her teeth. Despite the circumstances, she couldn’t bring herself to tell him off.

Maybe it was how downright giddy Kieren had been all morning about a package that was coming today, rambling about how long he’d been waiting for something he'd bought for her- some fancy French brand that required a dozen different measurements to ensure each made-to-order set fit the wearer perfectly. Or maybe it was the “silly little suggestion” he’d given her the other day that forced her to feel more comfortable being honest, no matter how brutal her opinion might be.

Sylvie already had no problem telling him off when he crossed a boundary, and it was no secret how much she loathed being stuck here, but it still came as a surprise just how much she was keeping in up until now. Unfortunately it seemed a lot of the thoughts she’d much rather push away were now jumping out and adding fuel to the lovesick fire that led him to hold her hostage the last several months.

“-but you really shouldn’t have.” She finally finished. It was no doubt expensive, and now all those innocuous questions he'd been asking for weeks about her favorite color and flower and lace style finally made sense. It was thoughtful, in a way, but it was still not what she wanted. Kieren always insisted he would give her anything she asked for, but it was made clear from the beginning that that only applied to things he wanted as well.

“Why not? Is it so bad to pamper the one I care about?” Kieren sat himself onto the bed next to her, letting his hand land nonchalantly on her leg. “Should we try it on?”

“O-Oh! Right now?” Sylvie looked away, frantically searching for an excuse. A couple white feathers puffed out on her neck, covering the blush that had migrated down from her cheeks. “I mean, it literally just came, and you probably have work to get done," she eyed his pale, freckled hand as it crept higher, so slowly it could be argued he wasn't doing it on purpose. Those arguments never turned out well for her.

"You said your store is short handed as it is, and it’s the middle of the day, so peak customer time. Besides,” She picked his hand up as though it were a dead mouse and dropped it unceremoniously back onto his own lap. “I’d really rather not. Not for you, anyway.” Kieren pouted, sticking out his bottom lip and giving her his best puppy dog face.

“Aw c’mon, please? We both know you can’t put it off forever.”

“And whose fault is that?”

“Alright, alright, if not for me, then do it for yourself.” He picked up the lingerie, still on the hanger, and led her to the full length mirror on the other side of the room. He dangled it over her still clothed body, offering a poor approximation of what it would look like on. “You know you’re curious, too.”

“Of course I am, but that’s not the point!” Ugh, that damn suggestion. Kieren had a way of wrapping around her subconscious like a constrictor, squeezing and squeezing until the truth had nowhere to go but out. There was no winning with him, only delaying the inevitable.

“So please? For curiosity’s sake?”

“Fine, I’ll try on the damn lingerie,” she snatched the hanger from him. “But don’t try anything. Like you said, this is for 'curiosity's sake' and that’s it. Got it?”

“Mm, of course!” His smile told another story, but it was too late to back out now.

“And don’t watch while I’m changing.” Sylvie shooed him away. Though getting kicked out of the room, Kieren kept that stupid grin.

“Okay, okay, let me know if you need any help getting it on," he called from around the corner.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t hold your breath.”

She shed her clothes, folding them into a neat pile on the edge of the bed before turning her attention to the hanger.

The lingerie was tight. Holding it against her body in front of the mirror, it appeared far too small, but there was no way he’d believe that without seeing for himself. She resigned herself to at least try to make it fit. Sylvie pulled at the lacy fabric, careful not to rip the delicate material. It took a bit of manhandling herself to get everything into place, but slowly but surely she managed to squeeze into the top.

Each breast was cupped by a flower which then budded out into an intricate pattern of leaves and abstract waves which stretched up and over each shoulder, puffing out in loose pleated ruffles at the peak, and then hugging as they met again in the back. The design was punctuated by small, opalescent pearl beads- just enough to accentuate the design without distracting from the filigree. With it on, she glanced at herself in the mirror. As nice as it looked on the hanger, it looked even better on. She found her eyes following the flow of the lace, getting lost in it for a moment. Each time she tried to move on, another whorl caught her eye and she fell back in again. It was only when the hanger slipped off the smooth satin bedsheet and thumped against the ground that she remembered there were still multiple pieces left to try on.

The bottom complimented the top, donning a matching pink, flowering front just large enough to cover her intimates before wrapping around to the back via two thin strings on either side, each of them tightly pressing into her skin. Again, she found her gaze following the pattern, especially that of the pearls now. The way the light became trapped in them, swirling and whirling into a collage of endless pastel rainbows. Sylvie absently ran her hand along them, feeling the cool silk and lace now pressed against her skin. It was already a pretty piece, but now wearing it it was downright beautiful. Her hand paused suddenly.

Having traveled lower and lower, it hit a wet spot. Was it near that time already? No, no it couldn’t be, that was last week. This was just… how firmly the lingerie was grabbing her body. Feeling it snugly pressed against her was just a bit distracting, that was all.

Sylvie was almost done pulling the second thigh high stocking on- a semi-sheer white with little bows at the top- when she heard Kieren ask, “Are you almost ready?” Her mouth opened, but no words came out. She’d turned to speak in his direction, but her gaze met her reflection and sent her thoughts scattering.

It looked gorgeous on her. No, she looked gorgeous. Almost…unreal. She couldn’t place her finger on it, but something seemed off about the reflection.

“You okay?” His words snapped her back to reality.

“Y-Yeah, I’m uh,” words felt heavy in her head. Slow. “Just a few um… just a few more… pieces.” Sylvie shook her head, trying to force away the sudden fog. Kieren had messed with her head plenty of times, but he wasn’t even in the room right now! Something was very wrong, but what? She looked around, not entirely sure what she was looking for. Her hand bumped something made of leather. Right, the harness!

That was much tougher to figure out, even in the right state of mind. Without a second set of hands to hold things in place while she positioned and tightened the various buckles, it kept falling apart. It was a whole job in itself just to keep the thing from becoming a twisted, shapeless mess. But now, with a clouded mind, it may as well have been rocket science.

After fumbling multiple times, she recruited her mouth, holding the harness up in her teeth to get the damn thing to actually lay correctly. In a way, the effort required to get it on actually cleared away some of the fog covering her thoughts. At last, she pulled the final straps- a pair of garters connecting to the thigh highs- tight. Success!

There was no time to celebrate, however. Excitement fizzled away before she could properly feel it. The tight, leather straps only added to Sylvie's hyperawareness of her body. Each nerve was becoming warm and sensitive; meanwhile her burning pussy throbbed with need. No doubt this would need to be cleaned before she wore it again. She could only hope Kieren stayed true to his word when he saw her, because it was becoming increasingly obvious that saying “no” to his advances was not going to be easy.

Sylvie’s limbs felt heavy. With so much attention turned inward, it was hard to focus on what she still needed to do. Each thought felt half formed, like it was being dragged through molasses before inevitably succumbing to its thick captor and sinking away into a dark nothingness. Alarm bells tried to ring, but even they got caught in the hot, sticky mess her mind had become.

Distantly, Sylvie felt a gossamer touch trickle down her arms. The final piece- a transparent, sleeveless gown, thinner than paper- had been draped over the ensemble. Had she done that? Everything, even her own body, seemed far away. Everything, that is, save for the intense need that was growing in her pussy.

The lingerie was on now, that’s what mattered. The hard part was done. She turned her attention back to the mirror. Just a quick look for herself to appreciate before reluctantly allowing Kieren back in.

As predicted, the airy fabric bounced and waved with even the most subtle of movements. The rest of the pieces were snug, but not nearly as uncomfortable as they'd looked. It was a beautiful sight but her reflection looked… surreal. Too perfect, too beautiful, too…fake. Was that really her? Sylvie wanted to stand, to get a closer look, to get some sort of proof that the woman in the mirror was really her and not just a pretty doll. The word clicked inside her head like the final piece in a puzzle.

A doll. That’s what felt so wrong about her reflection. Yes, the figure in the mirror was too perfect to be a person. It had to be a doll.

“You look stunning, dear,” Kieren whispered right in her ear. She jumped. When had he come back? How long had he been there? Was he the reason for her mental state? With her eyes still trained on the mirror, the thoughts dissolved before she could ask about any of them. “Don't you think you look pretty?” She couldn’t help but agree. It wasn’t a matter of vanity, it simply lay in her mind as fact. She looked pretty. The lingerie was tailored for her alone, and every aspect of it clung to her body as though it were a part of her. Everything was picture perfect.

“Let me hear you say it,” Kieren said. His breath was hot against her skin. Quiet, barely a whisper, as though speaking too loudly would break the spell. “Say that you’re a pretty little doll.”

“I-I’m, I do look p-pretty b-but I’m not, I’m n-not a-” her head was swimming, and his words quickly filled the gaps in her thoughts, overtaking them and threatening to become the only way she could even emulate thinking. Trying to push them away only resulted in a pounding headache.

“Shh, there’s no need to worry about what anyone thinks, there’s no expectations, no judgements, it’s just you and me here, right?”

“But-”

“Right?”

“Yes,” Sylvie admitted. Chills ran down her spine.

“So relax, doll. You’ve got a special little outfit made just for you, and you have no worries or responsibilities, right?”

“I don’t, um, I mean, I…I…..” What he said was nonsense, she knew it was! but the reason eluded her. Everything he said was technically correct, and thinking too hard about it only brought awareness to just how painfully empty her head had become.

"Right?"

“I… I can't.. wh-what was the question?" Sylvie cringed at her own voice. It sounded so confused, so broken.

"Shh it's okay," Kieren cupped her face, gently turning it in his direction. "Dolls don't need to think, do they?"

"N-No I guess not..?" she conceded.

"Dolls just look pretty and let themselves be played with. You think you look pretty, don't you." It wasn't a question.

"Yes."

"And you want to be played with, don't you." His hands left her face, trailing down her body with unbearable patience. Her body pressed into him, desperate for more than his gentle touch could provide. He grabbed one of her breasts, pulling the fabric away to plant a couple kisses on her chest. The cool touch of his lips made each peck linger long after they'd moved on.

"You want to be played with," Kieren repeated before circling a nipple with his tongue. The soft forked area of his tongue positioned itself on either side of her nipple, squeezing the soft tissue between them. Sylvie shuddered as he replaced his tongue with a sharp toothed bite. The pain sobered her up just enough to find the strength to push him away. She didn't want this! She wanted… she wanted…

"Mmph waaait," her voice was practically a whine as Kieren actually honored her wish, backing off completely. If she didn't want this, then why was the absence of his touch so unbearable? Sylvie was too far gone, and they both knew it. Kieren narrowed his eyes.

"Go on, I wanna hear you admit it," his tail snaked its way up her legs, settling itself in between them. He rutted against her pussy, providing just enough pressure to drive her crazy with need. More feathers poofed from her skin with such fervor they were sent flying into the air like cherry blossoms. If only Sylvie could rub herself against him- get her body over the edge! but with her mind hollowed out, sending the correct signals was nigh impossible. Her face became increasingly flushed, first matching the light pink lingerie, then surpassing it and settling on a bright red.

"Tell me what you want.”

“I want…” No, something in her was still fighting it. A war raged between her mind and body. Lust fought against the few remaining reservations that found their way through the emptiness.

“Go on, or would you rather I left you all alone with no relief?” Kieren gently turned her head, forcing her to once again confront her reflection. Sylvie's eyes fluttered as they focused on the image in front of her. Her reflection was so pretty. She was so pretty. So empty. So needy. So perfect. So…so desperate to be played with like a.. like she was a….

“You know what you are,” the shift in tone was palpable; Kieren already knew he’d won before she finally gasped out,

“I’m a doll,”

“Gooood, my love, and what does my good doll need?”

“To be played with,” Sylvie’s admission smothered the final embers of her mind. It was so easy to respond, almost as though she was uttering a series of pre-recorded messages. The notion was almost enough to bring her back, offering a series of half formed memories about how getting dressed up was the signal to shut her mind off and let go. Memories of allowing Kieren to use her without worries or shame. Nothing but blank, obedient bliss since,

“Good dolls are rewarded when they let themselves be played with.” The words sounded far away, as though she was hearing them through a tunnel. Had he even asked a question, or was her consciousness simply scattered to the point that the only way to express a semblance of thought was through uttering phrases so deeply ingrained they felt as natural as breathing?

Everything felt dreamy. There was no true awareness, only sensations of pleasure tied to flashes of images and sounds.

“Mmm, that’s it,” Kieren led her across the room to the mirror, gently pressing her shoulders as he whispered, “You know what to do now.” She dropped to her knees and watched the doll’s reflection repeat mantras as her owner teased her body.

(Owner? There was a different word for him, something…negative? But why, when he was sending wave after wave of bliss through her body.)

“I am a good doll.” He fondled her breasts, making sure to give extra attention to the sensitive nipples. He couldn’t resist looking up into her glassy eyes as he painted a series of hickies over Sylvie's skin, turning her chest into a battleground of her submission. Even when his sucking turned from pleasure to pain she still leaned into him, desperate to feel any stimulation he was benevolent enough to provide.

“Aaa-ah! G-Good dolls crave to b- c-crave to be used.” The damp spot on the lingerie had become a torrential downpour. Kieren pulled them down to reveal her pussy, which pulsed even harder as the cool air met with her arousal.

“Good dolls are blank.” Each phrase further cemented Sylvie’s new reality into her head. She was a good, blank doll that craved to be used. If only she could will her body to seek out more the pleasure it desperately craved. As if answering her unspoken prayer, something warm pressed against her entrance, rubbing it in slow, controlled circles.

“G-Good d-d-dolls-,” He was underneath her, pressing his tongue inside her folds much deeper than any human tongue could go. The two ends roamed independently of each other, one focusing on her g-spot while the other danced along the inner walls. She saw stars. Even kneeling couldn’t stop her legs from buckling as an orgasm washed over her. Feathers flew every which way. Kieren was temporarily suffocated, caught with his face in her pussy and throat clenched between her thighs. He moaned loudly. His clear enjoyment only made Sylvie more desperate to please him.

“Good dolls love being used.” The almost robotic tone returned as her body relaxed once more and released him. Her thighs spread again, unable to stop arousal from once again coercing her into offering her needy body. Kieren wrapped his tail around her, deriving satisfaction from how quickly his cool, smooth scales warmed up as they tightened around her red hot skin.

Something new pressed against her entrance. The tip of his tail had worked its way inside the mass of coils and found her pussy, lubing itself up with her arousal before roughly shoving itself inside of her. It pumped in and out, using her like she was no more than a fleshlight.

“G-G-G-Go-” Sylvie wasn’t given a chance to even finish the word before he positioned her face over his dicks and commanded her to suck. Sylvie’s mouth accepted them without thought, her tongue working on them as best it could between his thrusting on both ends.

“Mmph! Such a good, good doll,” Kieren said between huffs. “You love this, love being used by me, it’s euphoric when I use you as nothing more than my obedient little doll, isn't it.” She moaned, the vibration against his dicks eliciting the same from him. Every word he spoke found its way into her head without question. She was just a doll. A thing to be filled. A thing to be used. A thing that loved being used by Him.

An orgasm ripped through Kieren, and this time it was his turn to press her face into his folds, still fucking her pussy as he cried out in ecstasy. Sylvie’s own body quickly mirrored him, more focused on the fact that she had pleased him than her own enjoyment. He held her there, still pistoning his tail effortlessly against her slick to draw out the pleasure for as long as possible. He only let her free when she began thrashing for air- a subconscious action of self preservation rather than of fear or discomfort.

He held her within his coils.

“You look so beautiful like this,” he whispered, leaning in close to her ear. "You're my perfect little doll, and you did so, so well." Even exhausted, her body trembled as another mini orgasm sent her pussy pulsing just at his praise. "You want more, don't you?"

She had no strength left to do anything but give a subtle twitch of her head. Kieren pressed his lips against hers, savoring the taste of his own musk.

“Mmmmgoood," he wiped some of the arousal from her face and offered the finger to her mouth. She accepted it, sleepily sucking his digit as he lovingly fixed her hair, brushing through it and removing stray feathers.

"So how about we go even deeper, hm? Look at me, doll.” He removed his finger and gently took her chin in between his hands, bringing her up to meet his gaze. His eyes spiraled, sending ripples of blues and purples straight into her sleepy head.

“Sssleep now for me, so I can help my favorite little doll feel even better.” What little awareness remained faded into pure nothingness, and Sylvie's mind opened itself to whatever he wanted her to be.

[just-a-carrot]

Hi! I never use tumblr, but I wanted to get on my mostly untouched account and ask you something!

First off though, I want to say that I absolutely ADORE Our Wonderland and Our Fantastic Wonderland. I’m not a horror person, so I saw the game on itch.io for a long time before I was brave enough to try it, thinking it would just be a horror movie plot in the form of a visual novel. But I was so, so wrong, and so pleasantly surprised. I love all of it: the characters are so vibrant and feel so alive (except for when you know, they’re no longer with us and then R.I.P.), the way you don’t pull punches with the heavy topics you cover, the fact that you never know which choice will lead to a death but that you also are merciful and send us back to the last choice rather than giving us a game over (seriously, thank you for that), oh my gosh I could go on and on. The art style grew on me too and now I love it, plus I think it fits the game perfectly; I really like how you draw everyone so expressively.

I’m super excited for the final part to be released, but don’t push yourself too hard; we’re all happy to patiently wait. Being a solo dev is crazy difficult, and the high quality product you’ve released so far is simply fantastic. Plus you added a gallery, not one but TWO new modes (censored and streaming which must have been so much work), and other cool things WHILE ALSO creating the first half of Act 5??? Like how do you get so much done?

Anyways, I’m rambling, so I’ll get back on track. I saw in one of your answers to an ask (about if you’re okay with NSFW art of Our Wonderland) that you said you’re okay with people writing (among other things) about OW so long as they’re not using it in a hateful or bigoted way (I don’t remember the exact phrase you used, but I think that’s the gist of it).

So I wanted to ask, like are fanfictions okay? I have no intention to use them in a way that is demeaning to others, or hateful, or anything unkind. I just want to make some OW fan content to sustain me until the second half of Arc 5 is released, and hopefully share my love of OW and the characters with anyone who decides to read the fanfic(s).

I would definitely give you all the credit for Our Wonderland's characters, storyline, etc. While I'm usually a quiet person on the internet, I want to send anyone who may read the fanfics to the actual visual novels you've made. I would like to clarify that I don't really have an audience as I haven't posted my writing on any websites in a hot minute, but this story has absolutely entranced me. And I want to have more people to nerd out about this story with, so if i can get some more people on board the OW train, I'd be thrilled.

If you say no, I will respect your wishes as the creator and will not write or post any fanfiction!

If you are okay with it though, I’d be thrilled to share the title and website, etc I end up posting the fanfics on so you can read them if you so desire. Regardless of your decision, I will be thrilled to replay Our Wonderland and Our Fantastic Wonderland many times and I’m super stoked for the arrival of part two of Act 5!

(Sorry it's such a long message >.<)

Oh, my gosh, this is such a long (and lovely) message lakdjafld thank you so much for sending in a question! AND THANK YOU SO MUCH??? FOR THE WONDERFUL WORDS??? You're going to make me cry over here!! 🥺💦 I'm glad you decided to try it out despite your hesitations. I definitely know horror in general isn't for everyone LOL And this game definitely gets very intense at times in terms of horrificness LOL So that just makes me even happier that you still ended up enjoying it and the story ahhhhh,,,💦

"Like how do you get so much done?" -> LMAO HONESTLY I DON'T EVEN KNOW I didn't even decide to add all the new features and stuff until the last three or so weeks before the launch which,,, probably was not the best decision as the CG gallery especially ended up taking me hours and hours LOL However, I'm really glad to have gotten it done!! And I hope the new features will be helpful to people!

"So I wanted to ask, like are fanfictions okay?" -> Yeah, that's completely fine!! I am really fine with anything people want to create, just so long as exactly like you quoted above, that it's not for anything offensive or hateful/bigoted. (A-also not that I think anyone wouldn't do this, but I hope that people would honor the chars' sexualities/orientations lkadjfad 💦) I also ask that people don't tag me with anything NSFW as it makes me a bit uncomfortable and I don't want to interact with it (I don't mind people creating stuff like that so long as they're 18+, I just don't wanna interact with it personally dlakfjsdl) 😵‍💫💦 But just normal SFW stuff I have no problem with at all, whether it's writing/fics or art!! I think it's wonderful and lovely that you feel so inspired from my story that you would want to write something yourself! 🥺💕

Thank you so much again for your message! This was really sweet and brightened my day! 🥰

[glaivenoct]

would dragon au be nyxnoct?

if so how do you think introducing nyx to nocts dragon would go? or would noct help the kingsglaive as a dragon rider?

[Previous Dragon AU ask]

ngl any AU I ever indulge in Ever is automatically destined to be NyxNoct lmao. My NyxNoct goggles have been on since 2017 and they're defos not coming off now.

Hmm honestly the thought of Noct helping as a dragon rider is so fun and epic to think about. I think it'd be super helpful in those instances where the glaives get overwhelmed by some sort of wild Nif weapon - like Diamond Weapon. Where the glaives had to retreat in that instance, having Noct's dragon to counter it would be such an advantage for them.

I think that would also bring up some decent conflict between Noct and Regis, because say it's something that's brought up by Drautos and Noct wants to do it. Regis would be against it. It's too dangerous. It doesn't matter how much they've trained or how familiar Noct's become with some of the glaives and their tactics as a result. Regis won't allow it, and Noct's pissed about it. But maybe there's an instance where Noct doesn't listen anyway, ends up diving into the heat of a battle with his dragon and ends up saving a lot of lives. Nyx being one of them.

Ok ok I'm kinda getting ahead of myself on this, I nearly skipped the whole introduction part there lmao. But I mean... I feel like this lame? But I want it to be through training, because I've always held on to the idea that glaives helped a lot with Noct's magic training. And I kinda want Noct's dragon to pick up on Nyx's flirting. And the glances/shared looks between them. And, tbh, I want Noct's dragon and Nyx to kinda have this funny love-hate relationship. If that means sometimes Nyx gets thwacked on the back of the head or tripped by a tail so he looks A Little Less Cool in front of Noct, so be it.

Dragon is v protective of his Prince ok? What did you expect? Jk jk sorta, it's not really That Deep. I do like to think once the dragon pal gets the idea that Noct likes Nyx back, it'll ease up. But for now it's funny to think about the dragon messing with Nyx. Crowe thinks it's hilarious, and FYI Noct's dragon adores Crowe. Crowe is the dragon's Fire Pal In Crime.

((Another cute little thing to imagine: say Noct wants to admit to Nyx that he likes him and wants to grab dinner or something. He's ranting to his dragon about the whole dilemma/crisis. Now he's the one that's getting thwacked on the back of the head with a tail because Get It Together Kid. Noct's also gonna get pushed forward into Nyx by his dragon's tail and he's Not gonna appreciate it. Meanwhile the dragon will think it's amusing.))

Sigh. It feels like I'm going off on tangents here, but Hear Me Out - I know it's kinda been established having dragons is this Caelum Thing. But there's part of me that wants to mix Galahd into that. Somewhere way in the past history of dragons there's a connection with dragons and Galahd. Maybe back then, when dragons were an abundant thing, they originally came from Galahd. I don't know, my brain isn't quite clear enough to come up with something more coherent or concise. But I like the idea of there being some sort of Galahd connection with Dragons in general.

Gosshh this got so rambly and long, I'm sorry lol. BUT circling back to the dragonrider thing. That would so be what they call Noct, too. The Dragon Rider. That's so cool to me. And I really, really love the thought of the glaives being forced into retreat out in the field. Nyx, being the big dumb Hero that he is, puts himself in a position where he saves someone but Will Not Make It himself. I want there to be that moment where there's some big, humongous mechanical daemon coming straight for him; He closes his eyes and just waits for it because he knows This Is It, This is How He Dies. Just make it quick. And then right at the last second, in the nick of time, there's that fierce and mighty dragon ROAR. There's the wave of FIRE barreling right into the mechanical daemon and throwing it off course.

Granted, Nyx is so damn flabbergasted and just "What the hell do you think you're doing!" Noct's not supposed to be here and if the King finds out it's going to be someone's head.

But Noct doesn't have time for that because "Get the others and get out of here, we've got you covered!"

"Noct -"

"Just TRUST ME! Get out of here!"

And then Noct and his dragon kick ass. The End.

Jk not the end, there would be so much fallout from that stunt probably, but I think I've over rambled on this one ^^; TLDR: Mix NyxNoct into the dragon AU? IT'S A BIG FAT YES FOR ME. If you've made it to the end here I thank you for your time and attention <3

[underforeversgrace]

“I'm sorry,” the doctor says, when Valerie is only twelve. “We can keep the worst of the symptoms at bay, but the treatment is experimental. Your insurance won't cover it.”

“That's fine, I can afford it,” Damon Gray says, though tears mist his eyes.

Valerie is quiet. She's old enough to understand what's going on. They buried her mother for something similar last year.

Genetic illness, they'd said back then. Shouldn't affect Valerie until later in life. Hopefully, there will be more treatments.

Valerie Gray is twelve years old the first time she's told she's dying.

~

The second time she's told that, it's five months after Phantom ruined her life. The second time, it's her choice.

“I don't want the treatments anymore, dad,” she says one night over dinner, her father exhausted in his security guard outfit.

“You'll die! Valerie -” he tries to argue, but she cuts him off.

“I'm fourteen. It's my body. Please don't fight me on this.”

Damon looks at her like he's crumbling, and she can't blame him. But they can't afford it anyway. Five months of treatment have drained Damon's life savings. The treatments will stop eventually.

This way, she can pretend it was her choice to stop, and that it isn't money that kills her. 

She hopes she goes out as the Red Huntress. She'd rather die in a fight protecting people than at home in bed while her body just stops working.

“I'll let the treatment center know,” Damon says, his voice breaking.

“I love you, daddy,” she says, burying tears under a tough façade. 

“I love you too, honey,” he says, wrapping his arms around her.

Valerie is never sure which one of them started crying first after that.

~

Valerie fades quickly without the treatment, but she refuses to let it show. She quits Nasty Burger so she has more energy for ghost hunting, but her classmates aren't told she'll be gone soon. She only has one friend left in the school, anyway, and she doesn't want to waste what time she has left with Danny Fenton mourning her before her heart stops beating.

Her doctors refer her to Make A Wish. She's accepted her death.

She just wants to know what she did to deserve this.

“Have you decided your wish?” the volunteer wish granter asks.

“I want to meet Danny Phantom.”

~

It takes a week to get scheduled, but Valerie is meeting Phantom in a local park, in an isolated area, “for his safety” according to the foundation. Technically, Damon or one of the MAW volunteers are supposed to be here with her, but she convinced them to let her go it alone. She's nearly fifteen, after all.

(This might be the oldest she ever gets, after all.)

Her hair is pulled back and tucked into the hood she's wearing as she studies the cracked ground beneath her. The sicker she gets, the more easily she gets cold. 

“Hello, citizen!”

The voice is overly loud and he's clearly leaning into his superhero persona. For little kids, it's probably delightful. For her, it just feels patronizing.

She looks up and stands, pushing the hood off. Valerie watches as panic shoots across his face and his smile hardens.

Valerie’s never subscribed to the Fentons’ belief that ghosts don't have emotions or pain. Revenge isn't as sweet when they can't understand it.

“And who have we got here?” Phantom asks, but the cheer in his voice is strained. Valerie doesn't miss the way he glances at her hands and her hips. That confirms a theory she's held for a while.

“You know who I am, Phantom. We've met before.”

“Well, uh, y’know, lots of people, I meet. I mean, uh, I meet lots of people, so I -”

His rambling is cut off when she draws an ecto-gun and points it at his face. “You know who I am,” she reiterates. 

Phantom holds his hands up and then puts them behind his head. Valerie assumes it's meant to calm her, make him seem unarmed. “The Red Huntress,” he says, dropping the false cheer from his tone. “Valerie Gray.”

“How long have you known who I am?” she demands.

“Since the first time we met,” he answers.

Valerie growls in irritation. “Then why not kill me?”

“I never wanted to hurt you, Red. And I'm not the one who lied to a national charity to try to hurt someone. I can't believe you would abuse the Make A Wish foundation like this.”

The laugh that comes out of Valerie is the most bitter sound she thinks she's ever made. “It's nearly impossible to lie to the foundation, Phantom. Too many medical records and check ups for them to review.”

“Wait, so you're actually -?” 

“Dying? Yep. Have been for a few years.”

Phantom's face falls into a caricature of grief. “You never told me,” he mumbles.

“Why would I? I was getting treatment, I was fine, I still had years left on my life expectancy, until you and your stupid dog showed up!” 

“What?” Phantom goes paler than Valerie's ever seen from him before.

“There was a treatment, but it's experimental. Insurance doesn't cover it, and we couldn't afford it after my dad lost his job,” Valerie admits.

Phantom doesn't even seem to notice the gun she's holding in front of his face anymore. “If you got back on the treatment, could it help? Would you be okay?”

“There's still no cure for it, Phantom. I'll never be okay. But, yes, in theory, I'd have a couple more years back than the couple of months I'm looking at now.”

“I have an idea to get you back on the treatment. I have powerful and rich friends. Let me help you.”

Valerie falters. She’d had half a mind to kill him, here and now, so he couldn't hurt anyone else ever again. But if he can get her back on her treatment? 

“Why should I trust you?” she asks, though the shake of her voice is more audible than she'd like. “You ruined my life already.”

“It was an accident, Val, I swear. Cujo wasn't my dog, he was one of Axiom's who got put to sleep when they had no more need of him. He's just a puppy who wanted his favorite toy back.”

That takes out what little wind was left in Valerie's sails. “I thought Axiom put their dogs up for adoption,” is all she can think to say. “That's what my dad told me.”

Phantom shakes his head. “We - uh, I found the euthanasia records, including Cujo’s. What happened to you was an accident, Red. I'm so sorry.”

Valerie's arm drops, but her grip on the ecto-gun tightens. “I want to shoot something.”

She doesn't have the energy to process this. To come to terms with the fact her life was ruined because some asshole decided to put innocent, healthy dogs to sleep. She wants a fight. It's easier than her thoughts.

“Ah, probably not gonna be any ghosts around today,” Phantom says awkwardly.

“What? Why?”

“I let them know when I'm meeting a Make A Wish kid. They leave me alone those days.”

“Why would ghosts do that? What do they care?”

“We're ghosts. We know what dying is like. We know how much it is when it's a child.”

Valerie doesn't respond, she fidgets with her gun instead. She really doesn't want to think, but all she knows anymore is thinking or fighting.

Phantom sighs. “The things I do for love,” he mutters, so low Valerie is sure she wasn't meant to hear him. He continues before she can question it. “Suit up. Let's spar.”

~

They get a call the next day from the treatment center. An anonymous donor, covering the costs of all kids for the next five years, with strict instructions to call anyone who'd dropped from the program due to funds.

Valerie smiles as she schedules her appointment for the following morning.

For the first time in a long time, she lets herself believe maybe, just maybe, things are looking up for her.

Danny learns that the Make A Wish kid he was asked to visit was a dying Valerie, who wanted to see him so she can demand closure as to why he and his ghost dog ruined her life.

[fellthemarvelous]

Hello lovely mutual! I’m normally more of a lurker and not normally one to reach out to strangers, but I saw you’re recent post about having a bad anxiety day and decided to push back against my own anxiety a little. I, too, having being having a rough go of it lately. The racing, pounding heart, the spiraling negative thoughts, feeling like I don’t know or can’t trust my own mind. I see you, I get it.

And I wanted to reach out to tell you that your blog has brought me comfort these past couple weeks. Every time you post I’m like “omg yessss!!!” I came for the good omens, stayed for the politics, and definitely knew I was in the right place when I saw you share my love of Spike!

Anyway, to close out this wine drunk ramble, thanks for being brave enough to talk about your struggles. I wouldn’t wish those kinds of feelings on my worst enemy, but it does help a little to know that none of us are alone in this. I hope you get a reprieve soon. I’m rooting for you and I’m glad you exist!

I'm sorry you're having a rough go with anxiety lately as well! I am one of those people who always makes my situation worse because I avoid dealing with my problems by putting them off and leaving them for Future Me to deal with, which contributes to the self-loathing because of how angry I become with myself for losing the ability to function properly, but it's also how I learned how to cope with life as a small child. It's scary when you struggle to trust your own mind. I doubt myself all the time because of it. It's sad to realize just how many people struggle with these same problems but we all feel alone even though we aren't.

I'm really glad my blog brings you comfort and I hope it continues to do so!

Finding another Spike fan is such a joy!! I LOVE HIM SO MUCH!!!

He is my ALL-TIME FAVORITE FICTIONAL CHARACTER!!!!! He brings me so much joy because he's so fucking fascinating and he had the mother of all redemption arcs. I could go on about him for HOURS!!!!!!!

James Marsters took that role, knowing they were going to kill Spike off a few episodes later, and said FUCK THIS by making the fans love him so much that they ended up having to add him on full-time in season four and then moving him over to Angel after Buffy ended.

Look at this soulless monster sobbing over the dead body of his mortal enemy that he fell in love with!! 😭

He watched Passions with Buffy's mom and babysat Buffy's sister. He mourned Joyce when she died and he let a god beat the ever-loving shit out of him just to protect Dawn and all of this was long before he even went and fought to have his soul returned to him.

I love the way that even after he was turned into a vampire, William never really left. Whatever demon took over his body inherited William's mommy issues and he still wrote poetry and took care of Drusilla after she was injured because he loved her so much.

I love the way that Spike went to Joyce after Drusilla dumped him because he needed someone to talk to and she gave him hot chocolate with the little marshmallows that he loved.

Buffy: My mom! Spike: OUR mom! Buffy: 😤

Angel was cursed with a soul but Spike fought for his because he was horrified by the monster he was.

Spike is a fucking icon and I will love him for the rest of my life.

My boy proved himself to Buffy and he became her biggest defender when all her friends turned against her. I LOVE HIM.

He sacrificed his life so Buffy could keep living hers. 😭

[idv-murder-mystery-utopia]

*insert cool entrance here* "So... you're a novelist, huh? Mind if you tell me about your works? I-i'm curious about it" - Arthur - Idv-ask-intertwined-fates

His question seemed to have caught her attention. Despite his silent entrance with his crows, she heard him loud and clear.

Adalyn almost dropped her papers as she turned to him, her surprise much evident. He... Was curious about her books?

“My works? I... Well, if you'd like to see them, I have a few on my arms—”

She seems a bit surprised at the thought of someone wanting to read her novels. Even if it's in the manor, she can't complain. At least someone is interested!

Before she can give a few of those in her hands, she paused, remembering about it's contents. Right... Is he okay with religion?

“I almost forgot— are you okay with any sort of religion being mentioned? Some of my works have them involved, and their ways are... A bit twisted.”

A small cough, before turning to the papers she has. Some had drabbles she had to write, too...

“If you're okay with that, I can show you a few I've been working on. It's alright if you say no to it— I don't wish to pry much on that matter.”

She offered him a hesitant smile, not wanting to pry much or be pushy to a hunter. Well, even if he is, he looked... Normal. Almost like a survivor.

Nevertheless, she won't let this opportunity go. If he'd like, she can talk to him about some ideas she had— seeing what her readers want is something she would like to do, if she wanted to make sure her works won't get shamed on.

Like in the past...

@idv-ask-intertwined-fates

[bakudreamwriter]

I know the fandom is dead and the story is problematic but I only watched the show originally for these two and one other character anyways, so I'm going to bring it up because there are a lot of connections:

When Shadowhunters (the show and the book, but I think it was mainly talked about with the show, as most things are) was at its higher popularity, it had this same problem when it came to Malec. Some people (though less than Catwin seems to have for some reason that's beyond me because Catwin actually has less of an age gap, etc.) had a problem with Magnus and Alec's relationship.

Most argued that Magus being immortal (400-ish) made his relationship with Alec creepy (the books were worse than the show, but in the show Alec was in his early to mid 20's). This argument never made sense to me because the same people would gush over Twilight (and when the situations are fictional, no one irl is going to go off and marry a 400 year old warlock or Cat King- as long as they aren't minors and the relationship isn't toxic/problematic, leave it alone [imo]). I just wrote it off as homophobia, which might still be the case for some, but I think that Magnus's more forward and flirty nature might have also put people off.

Magnus is a known flirt in the world of Shadowhunters. He's been alive for hundreds of years and he has enough confidence (in that area) that he's very direct in how he feels about Alec right off the bat. Alec, however, has grown up in an unforgiving and close-minded household, so he's less comfortable with those kinds of things (not even counting his internalized homophobia that only really affects how he sees himself).

Magnus tries to be forward with Alec, but when that doesn't work he backs off. The whole point of Alec being the one to go to Magnus and to kiss him first is showing that Magnus was giving him a choice.

So it's really irritating when people label him and other characters like him as predators when they've done nothing to warrant or deserve that label besides being themselves and being confident.

I honestly think that people who have that extreme of a view must have something else going on that pushes them to make that leap, but that still doesn't mean they should be posting about it non-stop and arguing with people that like the character/relationship.

I could ramble for a long time about all the ways people misunderstand Catwin's relationship and the connections between it and other fandoms, but honestly, I think this was too much to begin with 😅

Thanks for bearing with me, to anyone that possibly made it through all this. And I'm sorry if it didn't make sense, I'm not rereading it before posting lol

Fandom needs to have a serious conversation about the difference between a sexual character and a predatory one.

A character who is comfortable in their sexuality, is a flirt, and attempts to charm other characters isn't a predator by default. Predatory behaviour ignores signs that the attention is unwanted. Predatory behaviour means ignoring consent and pursuing someone when they're clearly not interested and blatantly ignoring their wishes.

Conflating the two downplays ACTUAL predatory behaviour and makes it harder to spot both in fiction and in real life. It's also different in the context of a story than it would be IRL. It's important to keep in mind that the purpose of fiction is to have narrative tension, conflict, and character development. The purpose of fiction unless it is religious or for children, is not to model ideal behaviour. A story for mature adults trusts that its audience knows the difference between permissible behaviour in real life and permissible behaviour in fiction.

Still, someone flirting with someone when they aren't immediately into it isn't some transgression. Neither is continuing to pursue someone or show attraction when they aren't given a hard no or directly blown off. ESPECIALLY in fiction where one party playing hard to get is a common story element.

The difference between a predator and a sexual person is emotional intelligence and an ability to both read and respect body language and signs. An emotionally intelligent flirt will back off when they know their attentions are unwanted. But shooting their shot to see how the person responds isn't evil behaviour, nor is trying to convince the person of their merits.

If this were true, a lot of people would never get together both in fiction and in real life. You can never 100 per cent know how a person is going to respond when you flirt with them. That's why flirting exists, to test the waters. Not every relationship starts with friendship, either. A lot of people jump right to romance. Also, sometimes people aren't into it immediately because they haven't thought about it. So the response can be ambiguous. There's been a worrying trend of people vilifying and painting characters as criminal/problematic/evil for simply being sexual and making their desires known. This is a prudish attitude that is very damaging - especially when levied on queer people who have historically been vilified, criminalized and experienced violence for expressing their sexuality.

It may be uncomfortable if someone expresses sexual attraction to you when you don't want it and don't reciprocate it, but if it's done respectfully, it isn't a crime. The crime comes if they ignore your wishes and pursue you anyway, or objectify you. **Addendum to note that I am talking about flirting that approaches a person like a real human being and not an object. This doesn't apply to say, dudes trying to talk to women on public transit with headphones in, or street harassment of any kind. I'm talking about flirting that comes from a place of respect and genuine interest at an appropriate time and place. Edited to add proof that the Cat King is definitely reading emotional signals from Edwin that encourage him to keep flirting: