#at this point i don’t feel too terrible

[paxtito]

pretty girl

pairings: wednesday x fem!reader

word count: 3685

warnings: smut 18+. just lesbian sex innit (w receiving)— (all characters are 18+)

summary: wednesday put together a little surprise date night, but, enid being enid, couldn’t keep it a secret

a/n: based on this request: ‘I love your writing and was wondering if you could make another smut fic with Wednesday? Maybe something sorta soft, honestly anything would do. Thanks!’ hope this is what you were looking for and thank you!! spent the day resting which gave me plenty of time to do this because my lil’ anger issues of a dog bit my cheek after wanting my birthday cake 😒

MASTERLIST

The morning air is crisp as you walk across campus with Enid, her usual vibrant energy making up for your grogginess. You clutch your coffee tightly, half-listening as she chatters about the latest gossip in the werewolf pack.

“And then Ajax tried to—are you even listening to me?” she asks, bumping her shoulder into yours playfully.

“Barely,” you admit with a small smile, taking another sip of your coffee. “It’s too early for full Enid mode.”

“Rude,” she pouts dramatically before grinning. “But fine, I’ll get to the point. I’m sleeping over at Yoko’s tonight!”

“Wait, what?” you ask, blinking at her. “Why?”

Enid’s steps falter, and she looks away for a moment, biting her lip. “Oh, uh, no reason!”

You narrow your eyes at her, immediately suspicious. “Enid…”

“It’s nothing!” she insists, waving her hands defensively. “Totally normal, just, uh, bestie stuff. You know, girl talk, vampire-werewolf bonding, that kind of thing.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You’re a terrible liar.”

She groans, throwing her head back dramatically. “Fine! But you can’t tell Wednesday I told you, okay? She’d literally kill me. Like, for real this time.”

Your heart skips a beat at the mention of Wednesday. “What does she have to do with this?”

Enid hesitates, looking torn. “Ugh, okay, fine,” she blurts out, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “She’s planning something for you tonight. Like, a date night or something. She told me to clear out so you two could have the dorm to yourselves.”

A warm, unexpected blush creeps up your neck. “Wait… Wednesday planned something? For me?”

Enid nods, her grin widening. “Yup! And let me tell you, she’s been stressing about it all week. She even glared at me less than usual yesterday, so you know it’s serious.”

You can’t help but smile, your heart fluttering at the thought of Wednesday going out of her way to plan something for you. “That’s… actually really sweet.”

“Right? But don’t tell her I told you, okay?” Enid warns, gripping your arm. “She swore me to secrecy and gave me this whole creepy ‘I’ll bury you alive’ speech. Classic Wednesday.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.”

“Good. Because I value my life,” Enid says with mock seriousness before breaking into a smile. “But seriously, I’m happy for you guys. She’s got a soft spot for you, you know.”

Your smile grows as you think about Wednesday, her deadpan expression softening ever so slightly when she’s around you, the way her hand lingers in yours when no one’s looking. “Yeah,” you say quietly, more to yourself than to Enid. “I know.”

As the two of you reach the doors to your next class, you can’t help but feel a little giddy. Whatever Wednesday has planned, you know it’ll be something only she could come up with—quiet, dark, and maybe a little macabre. And you can’t wait to see what she’s put together.

—

The afternoon sun filters through the classroom windows, casting a warm glow across your desk. Your fingers absentmindedly tap against the surface as you try to focus on the teacher's droning voice, but your thoughts keep drifting to Wednesday and the surprise she has planned for you.

Despite your best efforts to keep a straight face, a small, giddy smile tugs at the corners of your mouth. You sneak a glance at Wednesday from the corner of your eye, trying to gauge her reaction.

To your surprise, she's already staring at you, her dark eyes narrowed in suspicion. Your gaze meets hers, and you quickly look away, feeling your cheeks heat up under her intense scrutiny.

"You," she says flatly, her voice cutting through the monotony of the lecture. "Are you feeling alright? You seem... distracted."

You swallow hard, your mind racing for an excuse. "I'm fine," you manage, keeping your tone as neutral as possible. "Just thinking about the assignment."

Wednesday raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. Her gaze bores into you, as if she's trying to read your thoughts.

You squirm in your seat, suddenly feeling like a bug under a microscope. You can practically hear Enid's voice in your head, warning you not to blow her cover.

But it's too late. Wednesday's eyes widen slightly, a flicker of panic crossing her face before she schools her features back into a neutral expression.

"Ah," she says slowly, leaning back in her chair. "Well, I'm sure you'll figure it out."

You bite your lip, wondering if you should press further. But before you can open your mouth, the bell rings, signaling the end of class.

Wednesday stands abruptly, gathering her books without another word. She brushes past you, her shoulder bumping against yours in a way that feels almost like a dismissal.

You watch her go, your heart sinking. You've blown it, haven't you? Ruined whatever surprise she had planned.

You scramble to your feet, nearly tripping over your chair in your haste. Your backpack slips off the desk, scattering your belongings across the floor.

"Wednesday, wait!" you call out, your voice echoing in the now-empty classroom.

You chase after her, weaving through the throng of students in the hallway. Your heart pounds in your chest as you catch up to her, reaching out to grasp her arm.

Wednesday whirls around, her dark eyes flashing with irritation. "What?" she snaps, her voice sharp.

You swallow hard, trying to find the right words. "I... I'm sorry," you manage, your voice coming out smaller than you intended. "I didn't mean to ruin your surprise. I just... I couldn't help myself."

For a moment, Wednesday just stares at you, her expression unreadable. Then, to your surprise, her shoulders slump slightly, and she lets out a sigh.

"You're impossible," she mutters, but there's no real heat behind her words.

You blink, taken aback by her sudden shift in demeanor. "I... I know," you say softly, giving her arm a gentle squeeze. "But I meant what I said. I'm sorry."

Wednesday is silent for a moment, and then she nods, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. "Fine," she says, her tone grudging. "But don't think this means you're off the hook. You owe me one."

You grin, relief washing over you. "I can live with that," you say, your voice light and teasing. "So... are you going to tell me what you have planned, or do I have to guess?"

Wednesday rolls her eyes, but there's a hint of amusement in her gaze. "Guess," she says simply, before turning and walking away, leaving you to follow in her wake.

—

You stand outside Wednesday's dorm room, your hand hovering over the doorknob. You take a deep breath, trying to calm the butterflies in your stomach.

Despite your earlier promise to keep quiet, you can't shake the nagging feeling that you've ruined whatever surprise she had planned. You glance down at your uniform, suddenly self-conscious about your appearance.

"Get it together," you mutter to yourself, giving your skirt a quick smoothing. "She's not going to bite."

With a final nod of determination, you raise your hand and knock on the door. The sound echoes through the empty hallway, making you wince.

Silence greets you for a moment, and you wonder if Wednesday is ignoring you. But then, the door swings open, revealing Wednesday standing in the doorway.

She's changed out of her school uniform, now wearing a simple black dress that falls to her knees. Her hair is loose, tumbling down her back in dark waves.

For a moment, you're struck dumb, your brain short-circuiting at the sight of her. She looks... pretty. Soft. Nothing like her usual sharp edges and icy demeanor.

Wednesday arches an eyebrow, her lips twisting into a smirk. "Cat got your tongue?" she asks, her voice dry.

You shake your head, feeling your cheeks heat up. "No," you manage, clearing your throat. "I just... I didn't expect you to look so..."

You trail off, not quite sure how to finish that sentence without sounding like a complete fool. Wednesday's smirk widens, and she steps aside, gesturing for you to enter.

"Come in," she says simply, before closing the door behind you with a soft click.

You step into Wednesday's dorm room, your eyes widening as you take in the scene before you. The furniture has been pushed to the sides, creating a large open space in the center of the room. Soft, ambient lighting casts a warm glow over everything, making the room feel intimate and cozy.

In the middle of it all stands Wednesday, her posture perfect, her expression unreadable. She's holding out her hand to you, a silent invitation.

"What's all this?" you ask, your voice coming out a little breathless.

Wednesday's lips curve into a small, enigmatic smile. "I'm going to teach you how to dance," she says simply, her tone matter-of-fact.

You blink, taken aback by her words. "Dance?" you repeat, feeling a little foolish. "Like... ballroom dancing?"

Wednesday nods, her dark eyes glinting with a hint of amusement. "Yes," she confirms, her voice dry. "Like my parents do. It's a family tradition."

You feel your heart skip a beat at the thought of Wednesday's parents, of the life she leads outside of Nevermore. It's a side of her you've never seen before, and the idea of being a part of it, even in a small way, makes your stomach flutter.

"I... I'd like that," you manage, stepping forward to take her hand.

Wednesday's fingers are cool against yours, her grip firm and steady. She pulls you closer, her body mere inches from yours.

"Good," she says simply, before beginning to guide you through the steps.

You stumble a little at first. But Wednesday is patient, her instructions clear and concise. Slowly, you begin to find your rhythm, moving in tandem with her.

As you dance, you can't help but notice the way Wednesday's eyes never leave yours. There's an intensity there, a depth of emotion that makes your breath catch in your throat.

"You're doing well," she murmurs, her voice soft. "Just follow my lead."

You move gracefully in Wednesday's arms, your body reacting instinctively to her guidance. The fabric of your black trousers brushes against her dress as you spin, the sensation sending a shiver down your spine.

Wednesday's gaze is intense, her dark eyes boring into yours with an unspoken question. You swallow hard, trying to ignore the way your heart races at her proximity.

"You're a natural," she murmurs, her voice low and intimate. "I knew you'd be good at this."

You duck your head, feeling a blush creep up your neck. "It's easy when I have a good partner," you manage, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

Wednesday's lips curve into a small, enigmatic smile. "Is that so?" she asks, her tone teasing.

You nod, your gaze flickering down to her lips for a brief moment before meeting her eyes again. "Definitely," you confirm, your voice barely above a whisper.

Wednesday hums, her fingers tightening around yours. "Good," she says simply, before pulling you closer, your bodies now just inches apart.

You can feel the heat radiating off her skin, the scent of her perfume filling your nostrils. Your breath hitches, your pulse pounding in your ears.

"Now," Wednesday says, her voice low and husky. "Let's try something a little more... challenging."

She steps back, her hand leaving yours. You feel a momentary pang of loss, your fingers aching to touch her again.

But then Wednesday begins to move, her body swaying to a beat only she can hear. She extends her hand, a silent invitation for you to join her.

You hesitate for a moment, your heart hammering in your chest. But then, with a deep breath, you step forward, ready to follow wherever she leads.

You take Wednesday's hand, her fingers cool and strong in your grasp. She pulls you close, your bodies pressing together as she guides you into a new dance.

This one is more sensual, the steps slower and more deliberate. Wednesday's gaze never leaves yours, her dark eyes smoldering with an intensity that makes your breath catch in your throat.

You move together, your bodies swaying in perfect sync. The world around you fades away, until there is nothing but the two of you, lost in the rhythm of the dance.

Wednesday's hand slides up your arm, her fingers trailing over your skin. You shiver at the contact, your nerve endings igniting with each touch.

"You're doing well," she murmurs, her lips barely brushing against your ear. "Keep going."

You nod, your body responding to her commands without hesitation. You've never felt so in tune with another person, so utterly in sync.

As the dance comes to an end, Wednesday pulls you into a final, tight embrace. You can feel the heat of her body against yours, the softness of her breasts pressing into your chest.

For a moment, you're frozen, your heart pounding in your ears. You know you should pull away, put some distance between you. But you can't bring yourself to move, not when Wednesday feels so perfect in your arms.

Slowly, tentatively, you raise your hand, your fingers brushing against the silky strands of her hair. Wednesday's eyes flutter closed, a soft sigh escaping her lips.

"Y/N," she breathes, your name a prayer on her tongue. "I..."

Your heart races as Wednesday's breathy voice caresses your name. In this moment, suspended in time, the world seems to fall away, leaving only the two of you, hearts beating as one.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, you lean in closer, your forehead resting against hers. Your hands slide up to cup her face, thumbs gently stroking her high cheekbones.

Wednesday's eyes flutter open, dark and filled with a vulnerability you've never seen before. Her hands come up to rest on your waist, fingers curling into the fabric of your shirt.

"I..." she starts, her voice barely a whisper. "I want..."

But she trails off, unable to finish the thought. Instead, she closes the remaining distance between you, pressing her lips to yours in a kiss that steals your breath away.

You melt into the kiss, your body molding against hers like it was made to fit. Wednesday's lips are soft and warm, moving against yours with a desperate hunger.

Your hands slide into her hair, tangling in the silky strands as you deepen the kiss. Wednesday makes a soft noise in the back of her throat, a sound of pure need.

Time seems to stand still as you lose yourself in the taste and feel of her. The rest of the world fades away, leaving only this moment, this connection.

When you finally break apart, you're both breathing heavily, your cheeks flushed and eyes glazed. Wednesday rests her forehead against yours, her hands still gripping your waist tightly.

"That was..." she starts, her voice rough with emotion.

"Perfect," you finish for her, a small smile tugging at your lips.

Wednesday hums in agreement, nuzzling her nose against yours. "I've wanted to do that for a while now," she admits, her tone shy.

You chuckle softly, your fingers carding through her hair. "I'm glad you did," you murmur, bringing your lips to hers once more.

As you kiss, you know that this is just the beginning. The start of something new, something beautiful and terrifying and utterly intoxicating.

Wednesday's hands slide down to your hips, her fingers gripping your waistband tightly. With a sudden tug, she pulls you flush against her, your body pressing into hers.

You gasp at the contact, your hands flying up to grip her shoulders for balance. Wednesday takes advantage of your momentary distraction, walking you backwards until the backs of your knees hit the bed.

With a soft push, she sends you tumbling onto the mattress, her body following yours. You land with a bounce, your breath knocked from your lungs as Wednesday settles on top of you, her weight pinning you in place.

"Wednesday," you breathe, your voice barely above a whisper. "What are you..."

But your question is cut off as Wednesday captures your lips in another searing kiss. Her tongue delves into your mouth, exploring every inch of you with a desperate hunger.

You moan into the kiss, your hands sliding down to grip her hips, urging her closer. Wednesday grinds against you, the heat of her core seeping through the thin layers of fabric separating you.

Wednesday breaks the kiss, her dark eyes boring into yours with an intensity that steals your breath. She sits up, straddling your hips, her hands resting on your chest.

"I want you," she whispers, her voice low and husky. "But we don't have to..."

You reach up, cupping her face in your hands. "I want this," you assure her, your thumb brushing over her bottom lip. "I want you."

Wednesday nods, her gaze never leaving yours. Slowly, she leans down, pressing her lips to yours in a deep, passionate kiss.

Your hands slide down her back, settling on her hips. You guide her movements, encouraging her to grind against you. The friction is delicious, the heat building between your legs.

Wednesday gasps into your mouth, her hips moving faster, more urgently. You can feel her growing wetter, her arousal soaking through your clothes.

You break the kiss, panting heavily. "Let me," you plead, your voice rough with desire.

Wednesday nods, shifting off of you. You sit up, your fingers trembling slightly as you reach for the hem of her dress. With a swift movement, you pull it over her head, tossing it aside.

She sits before you, clad only in a black lace bra and matching panties. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of her, her pale skin flawless in the dim light.

You lean forward, pressing reverent kisses along her collarbone, down the swell of her breasts. Wednesday shivers, her fingers tangling in your hair.

Your hands slide down her sides, hooking into the waistband of her panties. With a gentle tug, you pull them down her legs, leaving her bare before you.

You take a moment to drink in the sight of her, your gaze roaming over her body appreciatively. Wednesday flushes under your attention, her thighs pressing together shyly.

"You're so beautiful," you whisper, your voice filled with awe.

Wednesday shakes her head, her dark hair falling in waves around her face. "I'm not..." she starts, but you silence her with a kiss.

Switching positions, you lay Wednesday down on the bed, your body covering hers. You capture her lips in a searing kiss, your tongue delving into her mouth, exploring every inch of her.

Wednesday moans softly into the kiss, her hips arching up to meet yours. Your hands slide down her sides, cupping her breasts through the thin lace of her bra.

You break the kiss, your lips trailing down her neck, nipping at her collarbone. Wednesday gasps, her fingers digging into your back, urging you on.

Your hand slides down her stomach, teasing the edge of her panties. Wednesday's breath hitches, her thighs parting slightly in invitation.

You dip your fingers beneath the fabric, finding her slick and ready for you. Wednesday whimpers, her hips bucking into your touch.

Your fingers glide through Wednesday's slick folds, finding her sensitive bud. She gasps, her hips jerking at the sudden contact.

"Y/N," she breathes, your name a prayer on her lips.

You circle her clit with teasing strokes, reveling in the way her body responds to your touch. Wednesday's thighs tremble, her hands fisting in the sheets beneath her.

Slowly, you slide a finger inside her, groaning at the way her walls clench around you. Wednesday is so hot, so tight, so perfect.

You add a second finger, pumping them in and out of her slick heat. Wednesday's head thrashes on the pillow, her mouth falling open in a silent cry of pleasure.

Your thumb finds her clit again, rubbing firm circles around the sensitive nub. Wednesday's hips buck wildly, her body chasing the release you're so eager to give her.

"Please," she whimpers, her voice barely audible. "I need..."

But she doesn't finish the thought, her body arching off the bed as you curl your fingers just right. You can feel her getting closer, her walls fluttering around your digits.

With a final twist of your wrist, Wednesday comes undone, her body shaking with the force of her orgasm. You hold her through it, whispering words of praise and encouragement.

As she comes down from her high, you press soft kisses to her sweat-dampened skin, murmuring your love and devotion. Wednesday clings to you, her body still trembling with aftershocks.

In this moment, the rest of the world fades away. There is only the two of you, wrapped in each other's arms, basking in the afterglow of love and passion.

—

You wake to the sound of the door opening, your eyes fluttering open to find Wednesday still asleep beside you. For a moment, you simply lie there, taking in the sight of her.

Her dark hair is fanned out across the pillow, her face relaxed in sleep. Your gaze travels down her body, tracing the curves and dips you explored so thoroughly the night before.

The door swings open fully, revealing a surprised Enid standing in the doorway. Her eyes widen as she takes in the scene before her - you and Wednesday, tangled together in the afterglow.

"Oh," she breathes, her cheeks flushing pink. "I... I didn't know you two were..."

You sit up quickly, pulling the covers up to your chin. Wednesday stirs, her eyes blinking open in confusion.

"Enid?" she mumbles, her voice thick with sleep.

Enid clears her throat, averting her gaze. "Sorry," she says, backing out of the room. "I'll just... I'll leave you two alone."

The door clicks shut behind her, leaving you and Wednesday in a tense silence. You glance at her, unsure of what to say.

But Wednesday just sighs, turning to face you. "Well," she says, her tone dry. "That's one way to start the day."

[playstation-dreamcast]

guys, wanna see the commission I wrote for @nshtn !!!!

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Summary: After a long day at the lab, Wesker comes home with a terrible migraine, and you run him a bath to help him feel better :) Warnings: Some slight Yandere themes and possessive behavior, but for the most part this is pure, SFW fluff!

Wesker never would have called himself an “obsessive” man before. Driven, focused, compulsive even, sure. But never obsessive. He wasn’t quite sure when that changed, but he knew that at some point it had. And it had everything to do with you. 

Today had been long. It wasn’t often he left you in your shared home alone, but he knew he was on thin ice after the last time you had been to the lab with him. He spent hours coaxing you back into his arms after you saw the true nature of his research, and realized he wasn’t the do-gooder looking for cures that you thought he was. If you had seen what he was working on today, you would have been packing your bags for sure.

Not that you would ever actually be able to leave him. No, he was sure that you both knew that you were in  far far too deep for that. But, you being complacent in your imprisonment situation made things a lot easier, for all parties involved. He preferred you that way, anyways. Your love had always been so much sweeter when freely given. 

Still, a part of him had wished he had dragged you with him to the lab today anyway, if for no other reason than because your presence just made the day easier. He could feel the tension headache forming at the back of his skull. A soft sigh of relief left him as he entered the home he made for you. He shrugged off his jacket and kicked off his heavy boots, more suited for a battlefield than they ever were for lab work.

He wasn’t shocked when you didn’t come to greet him. Your reaction to his work with the plaga had been…less than ideal. He expected you’d be cold to him for the next few days while you processed it all. Still, he felt your absence acutely in the silence, and it set him on edge. He was used to you talking about, well anything really as you took each other's coats off and made your way to the shower to wash the day off. It had become one of the comforts he didn’t even realize was a comfort until it was gone. His fingers twitched with the need to grab. pull. hold you. 

This headache was quickly becoming a migraine. He decided to just call the day here and head to the bedroom, hoping to find you there, and crash for the night. He rubbed his eyes  from under his sunglasses as he opened the door, struggling not to flinch at even the soft light of the bedroom.

“Al?” your sweet, soft, voice called and instantly he felt his shoulders relax- even if it was just for a fraction of a second.

He removed his hand from his eyes and gave you a soft smile. You looked so adorable, curled up in his blankets, reading one of the books he bought you, in the bed you shared with him. Safe, was the primary word that came to mind. “Good evening Dearheart, I trust that you had a good day?” he asked.

You ignored him. “What time is it?” You asked as you checked the alarm clock on your nightstand. It was only 3:30. “You’re home early.” You noted. It wasn’t like him to ever leave work early. 

He nodded in acknowledgement, not even really bothering to change out of his work clothes before collapsing into the bed. Not like he worked with any samples today. “I wasn’t feeling well, so I left early,” He explained. 

He suppressed a smile as you placed your cool hand against his forehead, checking for a fever. “You don’t feel warm,” you muttered, “Another migraine?” 

“Heading that way.” He said, pulling you against his chest. You didn’t fight him. You were good like that. He closed his eyes as he focused on your breathing, and the steady thrum of your heartbeat against his own. The world was slowly starting to feel right again. Having you by his side, safe in his arms, was the only way he could feel human whole these days. His soul craved you, and no matter how much he may resent that fact, there was no changing it now.

You nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck, and looked at him through your eyelashes. “You smell like the lab.” You pointed out.

He gave a humorless huff of a laugh. “No doubt. I’ve been in it all day.” He muttered, closing his eyes to try and block out lowlights of the lamps in your bedroom. You hummed and patted his chest, silently requesting to be released.

He held you tighter. No, he wasn’t ready to let you go yet. He just got you back, and you couldn’t even give him five minutes? Ungrateful little-

“Al.” You said softly, patting him again, “I’d like to get up.” He held back a growl. He wanted to tell you no, but…your voice was so soft, and tender. And he knew you still weren’t happy with him. He was trying to sew you back to his side with a very delicate thread, and he had to be careful where he pulled. 

So he sighed as he let you go, scowling softly as you got up. He didn’t open his eyes, but he did notice you turn off the lamp for him, and listened as you padded into the ensuite bathroom. 

🧬🧬🧬

“Al…” your soft voice cut through the darkness. How long had it been? Had he fallen asleep? “Albert.” You said a bit more forcefully this time, placing a gentle hand on him

“Yes Dearheart?” He finally said, not removing the arm from over his eyes. When did it get there? 

“I, uh…I ran you a bath.” You whispered.

He lifted his arm and finally looked at you. Someone took off his sunglasses, he noted. “Did you now?” He asked as he sat up. 

“Mmhm” you nodded as you led him to the bathroom. The fresh scent of a douglas fir hit him as he walked in, followed by the realization that the bathroom was only lit with your candles. Fine by him, overhead lights were his enemy at the moment. He stretched out his neck to try and relieve some of the tension there, and as he did you moved to start undoing the buttons of his shirt.

Albert made no move to stop you. He’d always liked when you undressed him. He smirked as you undid his belt, a familiar smirk you knew all too well, joined by a small chuckle.

You couldn’t help the flush that came to your cheeks. “Shush.” you reprimanded.

He returned it with a condescending smile. “I didn’t say anything.” He pointed out.

“You didn’t need to.” You giggled softly as you finished undressing him. Wesker gave your face a loving caress before going and sinking down into the lush bubbles of the warm bath. He was taken a bit by surprise by the jets being on, but quickly came to appreciate them as they started to work the stress knots out of his back. 

He didn’t hide his near lascivious grin as he watched you undress. He knew the big bath tub was worth the extra money. His eyes followed even your smallest movement as you got yourself ready for the bath, and lowered yourself into the water next to him. Migraine or not, Albert was quick to pull you close to him, kissing your neck and grinning into your skin at your soft giggle. 

Your hands naturally found his hair, carding it in a way that almost seems like muscle memory. His face was still in the crook of your neck as he dragged his teeth over the seemingly permanent bruise he left there. Any time it started to fade, he’d sink his canines into you again, revealing in the way you gasped maybe a little bit too much. It was a sacred ritual for him, as well as an idle pass time. He adored the way you looked covered in his marks, the evidence of his presence in your life almost impossible to ignore. 

You hissed a little as his teeth found their home in your neck. He held you tighter, delighting in the way you squirmed as he suckled on the delicate skin there. He pulled back to admire his work, only letting up once he was satisfied that his mark wasn’t going anywhere. Ever the perfectionist. 

“Oh, I almost forgot!” You muttered, moving over to the other side of the bath and to the basket of products you kept there, “I wanted you to try this.” You said as you held up a jar.

Albert took a second to read the container in your hand in the dim candle light, his cat-like eyes doing a lot of the heavy lifting here. “A face mask?” He asked, voice unamused. 

You nodded, “A hydrating face mask.” You clarified for him. 

“And why would I need that?” He questioned. Despite what one might think, Wesker wasn’t big on the whole “self care” thing. He took care of himself of course, but just washing his face at night felt like a more than adequate skin care routine.

You moved back to him. “Because they feel nice,” You explained, “And it’s not a crime to do something just because it’s fun every once in a while.” He found your word choice near comical, all things considered. As if he had ever cared about what the law said before. Still, He closed his eyes, letting you gently apply the mask with your fingers.

He wasn’t expecting the coldness of it, but, it wasn’t entirely unwelcome either. The scent of what could only be described as “clean” mixed with the fir of the candles and the lavender of the bubbles, and Wesker slowly came to the realization that his jaw was unclenched. Now, he had always been a man of science, but some small, secret part of him was sure you had cast some sort of spell to make that miracle happen.

Or, maybe it was just the way you lovingly applied the mask that made it happen. The tips of your bare fingers gliding over the apples of his cheeks and down his nose. You even earned a little huff (That you were reasonably sure was supposed to be a laugh) from him as you booped the tip of his nose.

He heard the soft tap of the container being put to the side, and felt you move behind him. “Now what?” He muttered, careful not to move his mouth too much and disrupt your work, as he leaned back into you. 

“Now we wait.” You informed him. Joy. Despite how often he found himself doing it, Wesker had never been a fan of waiting. He was willing to do it to reach his goals, and could in many ways even be described as a “patient” man. Still didn’t mean it was one of his favorite activities. 

He nearly jumped when he felt the warm water cascading over his hair. He hadn’t heard you pick up the cup to do so, but he definitely heard you chuckling now. “Sorry,” You said, though anyone could tell you were most definitely not sorry, “I should have warned you.” 

He gave an annoyed hum in response, leaning back into you. He was much more prepared for the water this time, and even found himself relaxing as you wet his hair. He heard the soft click of a shampoo bottle opening, followed by the feeling of you working your fingers into his hair. A soft, contented sigh left him as you massaged his scalp. He’d never admit it outloud, or even to himself for that matter, but the feeling of your hands in his hair would always be his favorite feeling in the world.

He tried to remember the last time he felt safe enough with someone to let their hands get this close to his neck while he had his eyes closed. Maybe William? And even then, it was mostly just that he trusted Birkin not to kill him while he slept. If he woke up to his hands in his hair, well…for one that would have been a very awkward conversation to have with Annette, but beyond that he probably would have punched him on reflex alone. 

He had never felt the need to keep his guard up that high around you though. You had always been so gentle, so sweet. A soft bunny that had no idea it was playing with ravenous wolves. Perfect for him to model the “comfort” action off of, for lack of better phrasing. He wasn’t sure when it changed. It happened when he wasn’t looking, it went from just another experiment to something more.

He felt that twinge in his chest again. The one he only got when he thought of you. The all too familiar and uncomfortable contraction that reminded him that no matter how hard he tried to ignore it, to run away from the fact, he still had a human heart. A human heart that beat in time with yours, for yours. A human heart that was always more yours than it ever was his. 

You were rinsing the shampoo out of his hair now, careful to make sure you got all of it out. His eyes were still closed. “No one’s ever washed my hair before.” He muttered.

“Yeah, that's not shocking to me,” you said, already working the conditioner into his hair, “All things considered.” It was more of an observation to himself, but- he did say it outloud- so he shouldn’t have been shocked by your commentary. He’d never been particularly open about his childhood with you. Mostly because he couldn’t bear the horrified, heart broken look in your eyes when he told you some of the lighter stories. Still, with the little information you had it didn’t take a giant leap of logic to figure out that Albert had spent his younger years isolated. Alone. 

Touch starved. Maybe that was why he always leaned into your touch, even the slightest graze. Why he insisted you be in his lap at all possible times. Why he could never really let you be that far away from him. 

Why he got jealous of any of the other researchers you spoke to. Why he had to know your location at all times, beyond just “wanting to make sure you’re safe.” Why you had become his own personal chew toy, covered in more “love bites” than you could ever hope to cover. Maybe he was just touch starved and making up for lost time. 

His hand found your thigh, giving it a light squeeze. You were both shocked it took him this long to do so. You flinched a little as you felt his nails did into the tender skin, but knew better than to say anything at this point. Wesker's love had always come blood soaked and tinged with pain. You were fairly sure it was the only way he really knew how to love.

His grip loosened before doing any real damage though, so progress was being made on that front. It was just a slow process. While you waited for the conditioner to set in his hair, you grabbed one of the soft rags from the towel bar, wetting it before gently wiping the mask away. He raised a hand to rub his cheek when you were done. You were right, his skin did feel noticeably softer.

Or maybe it was just the placebo effect. Who knows. He opened his eyes slowly, smiling as he saw yours looking back down at him. “Hello Gorgeous.” he hummed to you, smile growing as he watched your face warm up.

“Hey Handsome.” You replied, brushing a stray hair out of his face, “Close your eyes again.” You instructed. For once he did as you said without a fuss, letting you rinse the conditioner out of his hair. “Are you feeling any better?” You asked softly.

He has almost forgotten about the migraine entirely. “Much.” He confirmed, looking back up at you. Normally, he preferred you in his arms. But, he could get used to the inverse too. “Some days I feel like I don’t deserve you, my Dearheart.” He mused, taking your wrist and bringing it to his lips for a kiss. He relished how flustered you got as he did so. He always knew exactly what to say or do to get you worked up, and it was a sight that never got old for him. 

“Come on Al, don’t say that.” You shook your head at him, “We both know that’s not true.” 

His grin only got wider. He loved it when you played his game with him. You both knew the thought that he wasn’t absolutely entitled to you had never once crossed his mind, let alone the thought that he might not deserve you. But, you’d both hide behind the nicer interpretation of your words. “Will you be staying in the bedroom with me tonight?” he asked.

He didn’t have to put any emphasis on the “with me” for you to feel it. You had slipped off to sleep in the guest room last night after he had fallen asleep. An act of defiance that he would normally never let slide, purposefully ignored. He knew you were struggling with what you had seen in the lab, and had learned from you to give space when things such as this happened.

But you both knew he was tired of giving space. And it hadn’t even been a full twenty four hours yet. You were quiet for a moment, before you nodded. “Yeah, I’ll be in there with you tonight.”

“All night?” He didn’t mean for there to be that much edge to his voice, but after a long day he was done masking.

You nodded again. “All night.”

He smiled, reaching up and pulling you down for a quick kiss. “That's my good Bunny.” He praised, eliciting a delightful smile from you. You were still his, no matter what you had seen in that lab. You’d always be his, the red string of fate tangled and twisted around your necks, keeping you together no matter the circumstances. 

The water had gone tepid, and the froth of the bubbles had long since dissipated. He stood, holding out a hand to help you up. The bath was drained in favor of a quick shower, mostly to rinse away any remaining suds. As you stepped out, he wrapped a warm fluffy towel around you, a tender act that you returned in kind. 

You brushed his hair, telling him it was part of the “full princess treatment.” He allowed it, if for no other reason than it was yet another reason for you to play with his hair. He insisted on brushing yours as well, saying you deserved the “full princess treatment” just as much as he did. And yes, it was a thinly veiled excuse to play with your hair. 

Relieved from the migraine, the two of you were able to indulge in a movie to continue winding down for the night. He still insisted on cooking, being very vigilant of your diet. Nutrition was important, and he was a pretty good cook all things considered. He happily made your favorite before settling in to watch…

Whatever it was you put on. Honestly, he wasn’t really paying attention. He was far more occupied with the adorable pet on his lap, showering you with kisses and affection. Wesker was a fair man, he returned the treatment given to him. To the best of his ability. And he was more than happy to lavish you with his attention and praise. He didn’t realize just how much he missed you today until now.

He wasn’t going to do that again. If today had been any indication, even when you were scared of him, you still wanted to take care of him. Perhaps he had underestimated your tolerance for his work. Maybe you just needed to see more of it. Build up a tolerance via exposure. You’d come to see things his way eventually. You’d have to.

Before you knew it, he was holding impossibly close, against his chest, in bed, as if he was scared that if he let up you might disappear. A not impossible outcome, considering the night before. He buried his nose in your hair, getting lost in the familiar scent as he seemed to hold you just a little bit tighter. “I adore you, Dearheart.” He finally mumbled to you. 

 “I love you too, Al.” you promised, reaching out and turning off the lamp for the night. 

______________________________________________________________________________

A/N: AHHSDFHCDHIUHDVHV9UPAH I LOVE HIM SO MUCH IT’S NOT EVEN FUNNY!!!!!!!!! Thank you, so so much for commissioning me to do this, it has in fact, made me smile bunches! I just love writing for my lil Weskee.

Bonus! The song that has the lyric the fic was named for: Human Zoo - Aphrodite, Your Electric Sexiness ft. Will Wood (Animated Lyric Video)

[yunazxxx]

“you didn’t sleep again?” the red haired girl asked, “you didn’t eat again?” the brunette asked back. — meret manon x lara raj

cw ; angsty fluff, heavy topics (depression, struggles with mental health, feeling alone etc), established relationship (girlfriends), comforting, crying moments but not too many, physical affection (hugging, kissing, hand holding), manon lets lara cry on her shoulder at one point, lara wipes manon's tears at another, mentions of a eating disorder, kinda includes all of the girls, etc maybe

syponosis ; it's been no secret that the girls in katseye have suffered endlessly ever since the release of popstar academy, but even once th other members hate began to slow down it only picked up for manon and lara.

wc ; well over 1.5k

an - i want to first say this again, this story contains a lot of heavy topics if you cant handle that please take care of yourself and i’ll see you on my next update. this story is complete fiction, minus what can be proven as true. majority of this can genuinely take place but we don’t know that for sure if any of these have actually with these girls in specific. p.s not proofread bc im writing this at like 3am ntfm

—

it was 3:45 am, lara was still up on her phone, scrolling away on social media. she was laying in a fetal position due to how sick she felt, her stomach turned as she read comment after comment about herself. they were everything far from joyful comments, ever since geffen released their documentary the girls have been tormented by the media.

normally, lara wouldn't bother herself with reading every single comment, but on all of her social media that's all she'd see or someone calling her racial slurs or anything under that form of disrespect. lara didn't understand why, it had been so long since that recording, she was closer with everyone now, why was she getting so much hate for a small comment she made about her member, manon?

@larrarajj : are you awake? sent at 4:00 am. the redhead didn't know what to do, megan was asleep and it was too early in the morning for her to put anything on to distract herself, no matter what h tried all she could think about was those comments. lara got easily overwhelmed, unsure what to do with herself or anything.

she felt her heart getting heavy, as her eyes began to well with tears when her phone finally chimed.

@manonmeret : yeah, i am. sent at 4:05 am it was a text from manon, lara knew of her habit of almost never sleeping, espcially due to this endless stress they've been under, not ever given the chance to enjoy being ‘katseye’ because everytime they just breathe, they're getting ridiculed.

@larrarajj : can i come see you? - lara really didn't know what to do with herself at this moment, she felt so anxious it made her uncomfortable. she waited for manon's texts, seeing the bubbles pop up but disappear, then a knock was at her door.

she got off her bed and opened it, seeing manon in her comfort hat and a oversized t-shirt along with shorts. lara couldn't see the girl's face clearly, but her voice spoke enough that she had been crying. lara brought the older inside of her room, and hugged her.

manon could feel lara begin to break down in her arms, manon held her as tigh as she could, rubbing her back, "get it out, it's okay.." manon comforted the girl, it was heartbreaking watching lara suffer the way she was.

lara wouldn't ever talk about how she felt, she would always just isolate, or handle it herself, she'd never ask for help, which affected her girlfriend really bad because she'd always be available to assist lara, however she needed it.

anytime she'd ask if lara was okay, she'd just reply "oh i'm fine" but manon could see her about to break down, she'd bite her lip majority of the time or just nod because she could feel herself about to lose it. lara had her reasons, because yeah what she was getting was terrible, but she also got ahold of what was being said about the other girs, and those really messed her up.

when she did see happy comments about her and the girls, it'd only be about five of them, never including manon because everyone would berate her name ad drag it through the mud like she was nothing, lara wanted to speak out about it so bad, but she couldn't.

it made her feel so guilty, watching manon go through it every single day. as mentioned before, manon stopped sleeping. she was never calm enough to be able to sleep, she always felt so on edge that it fucked with her. manon started spending more money on energy drinks, catching the attention of the other girls.

sophia stopped her one day, seeing the stuff she had bought, asking why did she need so may. manon couldn't lie and say school, her and sophia graduated the same year, she would lie and say practice, or she was buying them for daniela too.

it wasn't like daniea didn't know of manon's habit, she roomed wth her, so obviously she knew. it really concerned daniela, so she began sleeping beside manon or letting manon lay in her bed so she could get a litte bit of sleep but as it got worse, not even that would help her.

manon would be up for hours, just writing in her journal. it wouldn't ever be something specfic, but as you read, you can her spiral mentally. infront of a camera, and seeig her laugh and smile you wouldn't ever guess that this is what she was going through.

lara lifted her head off of manon shoulder, manon just looked ather, with a frown but smile on her face, she looked reassuring, saying to her girlfriend, "you know, it's okay to get it out. we all need to talk to somene about what we're struggiling with." maon said, rubbing her girlfiends's back while she held her hands.

the pair was sitting on the bdnow, lara was fidgeting, but she didn't even know why. "hey, calm down, breathe" manon said gently to the panicked girl, she and lara took a deep breathe together, while manon was calming lara down she felt a tear fall down her face and lara wiped her tear.

lara kissed her cheek, "we're gonna be okay" lara said softly. they stayed with each other for a bit, before the sunrise began. manon took lara to the balcony, they watched the sun rise together. while this happened, lara put her head on manon's shoulder.

"i'm so glad i met you" she said softly, and the brunette nodded, "so am i" and they watched it rise in silence. soon the other girls began to come outof theirrooms, lara and manon began treating this as any other day, manon opening a energy drink while lara grabbed her water and gum, as her "meal for the day"

sophia watched as they did ths, it really made her feel terrible, watching them both sufferthis badly. she knew lara couldn't eat, after reading all of those comments everyday for as long as she would it began to make her so sick she would throw up everytime she ate something to the point where she wouldn't even get hungry.

it began affecting her health terrbly, lara would walk out of her room, she would look tired with bags under her eyes, oversized hoodie on and she'd grab her water then leave again. the most they would ever see of her would be during practice, butshewould get dizzy so easily due to her blood sugar and blood pressure being as low as it would get due to her never gettng enough nutrients.

megan caught on to this, and whenever mega would eat, she would have lara sit next to her and she would feed her older member. to the average person tis may soun ridiculus, but megan watched as lara began to give up on taking care of herself, the same way daniela watched manon.

her and megan did the best they could to help heal them, writing them mall notes and sticking them on their most used devices, notes of motvations, and quotes tha they know, or more hoped, would make them feel better.

overtime, lara and manon got better, it might've been a whole house effort but what mattered was that they started taking care of themselves once again. lara would pick up the habit of sleeping with manon more often, while when manon cooked she would feed lara to make sure she's eating well and would also keep an eye out incase she'd attempt to enduce vomitting.

overtime, things slowly became more normal around the house, lara wouldn't have to be monitorid as often and for manon, she started sleeing better ever since lara started sleeping next to her. even making a joked saying that she really just needed lara so she could feel better.

lara would spend so much more time in their room, that daniela would offer up her bed to lara until she was gone. lara would say it's fine but daniela didn't mind, normally saying she'd go talk to megan or something.

at some point the question was asked, "why didn't you come to me when you felt that way?" manon hd asked her girlfriend, she wasn't attacking her, but was curious what made lara isolate everytime she felt sad or down, "you had your own things to worry about baby, i'd hate to make you worry about more, let alone me" the redhead explained, but the brunette didn't accept it.

"it made me worry more ya'know?" manon said, playing in lara’s hair while the younger's arms were wrapped around her, "i know, didn't mean to though" manon nodded and kissed her head, "i know beautiful, it's okay"

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️

⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️

🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲

🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️

Oh hell yeah! 42 for ⛅️

---

Except, wait… What if they’re stuck here? Eddie is straight. He might want to not remain married to Buck. He might… Maybe he would want a divorce. Oh god. That would be terrible. Absolutely terrible. Tommy dumping him and then Eddie divorcing him? How can he already have a worse track record with men than with women! Women had a significant head start! 

“Right?” He asks Eddie. “We’re not, right?”

“No!” Eddie answers, outraged like the question is ridiculous. “I would never divorce you!”

Okay, Mr. I’m Straight How Would We Even Have Sex. It wasn’t a silly question! 

“Okay, well something is going on!” Chris insists. “You both cried when you saw me. You’ve hardly touched each other all night. You’re usually disgusting. You forgot Nico’s allergies, like you’re too distracted or something. What is going on?” 

Buck and Eddie exchange an uncomfortable glance. 

“Uh… I’m just… Not feeling well?” Buck tries. 

“You’re sick?” Chris asks. “Oh my god, are you dying? Buck…”

“No!” Buck exclaims. “I’m not dying, Chris.”

“Then what?” Chris demands. 

“We’re really okay,” Eddie promises. “You don’t need to worry about it, bud.”

---

42 for ⚡️

---

“You’re gonna need it.”

Buck sighs. He knows Bobby is right. He should probably be trying to bank sleep instead of stress. 

“It all just feels out of my control, you know?” Buck says. “Like if something goes wrong at this point, what can I do?”

“Nothing,” Bobby says. “There’s nothing.”

“See? That sucks!”

Bobby smiles. “That’s parenthood, though. That’s just… How a lot of it is.”

Buck nods. He knows that. Conceptually, he knows that. He just doesn’t like feeling it. He likes being able to do something. Manage potential problems. Be the solution. And as much as he knows that a baby a day overdue is not actually a problem, it just feels like the beginning of that anxious feeling he can’t do anything to solve. 

“Things are going to happen that you have no control over,” Bobby says. “Lots of them. And things will happen that you do have control over that you get wrong. But what’s important is how you respond to that.”

Buck nods. “Who’s to say I won’t panic about that, too?”

“You will,” Bobby chuckles. “But it’s okay. Because, at the end of the day, I think you’ll always do right by her.”

Buck takes a deep breath. “Thanks, Bobby.”

“Of course,” Bobby replies. “You know… When Brooke was five - right after she started school - there was a school bus accident. One of the buses headed towards hers and Bobby Jr.’s school. While I was on shift.”

“Were they on it?” Buck asks. 

“No,” Bobby shakes his head. 

---

42 for 🌲

---

“So, then, like… Genetics makes sense, right? Unless there’s another comic-esque origin,” Buck says. 

Eddie wrinkles his nose.

“Do you think I could have secret magic genes?” Buck continues. “My parents have English ancestry. What could that be?”

Eddie frowns. “Careful. A rabbit tempting enough runs by you and you might turn into a whippet.”

Buck smirks. “Aw, but you’d take care of me right? Put me in one of those little turtlenecks?”

Eddie rolls his eyes, but finds that he’s smiling, too. How can Buck make him smile, even now?

“You know… A whippet’s life might be nice. Running really fast. Not a lot of problems. Soft turtlenecks. Presumably better-than-human hearing.”

Eddie tilts his head a little, taking Buck in. There’s a hint of sadness there. Well… Of course there is. This whole time they’ve been focused entirely on Eddie. But Buck’s been going through a lot, too. 

“Hey, uh,” Eddie says. “How are you holding in? With everything that’s happened…”

Buck blinks. “Uh… Fine, Eddie. I’m fine.”

Eddie raises an eyebrow. That just confirmed the opposite.

“Buck.” 

“Really!” Buck insists.

“Oh, come on,” Eddie chides. “Between the fitting and Tommy, you’ve gotta be stressed.” 

---

42 for 🧜‍♂️

---

 He can’t be honest. He’s landed on, it’s just Chris and I or he doesn’t have a mother in his life. This usually shuts down the conversation for anyone with the social skills to realize he doesn’t want to talk about it. Which, fortunately, is most people. But there’s always the odd one. Did she leave you? Is she dead? It’s awkward and uncomfortable and Eddie hates it.

So when he makes the decision to tell Buck about Chris, on the day of the earthquake, it’s maybe sort of a test. Which is unfair of him, he knows. But, underneath his layers of anxiety in trying to contact his son, there’s a need to know. How will Buck react? Will he see Eddie the way Eddie has seen him? Will he ask the wrong questions? The right, discrete ones? Eddie isn’t sure. And maybe the way Buck reacts will… Give Eddie a hint? As to whether or not his suspicions are accurate? 

Buck’s response is great, but unhelpful. He beams, says he loves kids, and calls the photo of Christopher adorable. Well, yes! Christopher is adorable. Cutest kid ever, thank you very much. Said with no bias. He also doesn’t ask any questions about Christopher’s mother. So kind of a great response on all fronts. But not a conclusive one. 

Eddie feels stupid. What was Buck going to do? Start discussing trans parenthood in the back of the fire engine? No. Obviously fucking not. If he was out, he’d be out. And if he’s trans and suspects Eddie, he wouldn’t out Eddie either. Damn it. 

But the whole experience does teach Eddie something about Buck. When he decides he’s friends with you, he’s a damn good friend. Like, thoughtful and strikingly sincere. He spends the whole day supplying Eddie with earthquake facts. Reassuring him about Christopher’s safety. Keeping an eye on the cell service to see if Eddie can call Christopher’s school. 

[cuntdestroyer3000]

Acotar rant

Spoilers

Toxic Nesta fans on tik tok are fr the most annoying people in the world omg. It’s at the point where idec abt nesta but her fans?? Some of yall suck lmao.

Like holding nesta accountable for how awful she treated her sister isnt saying she’s terrible. The whole point of her journey in her book is not only self love but taking accountability. Nesta hated herself but didn’t know how the change. The book is her GROWTH. Like I’m so annoyed w ppl victimizing her sm. Like yes she shouldn’t be hating herself but that also doesn’t mean she’s a perfect angel who never did anything wrong.

These people like nesta hate on feyre?? Which is ridiculous. A lot of the time I felt like feyre was TOO nice if anything. Bitches on tik tok were putting Rhys in the same level as KING HYBERN. Which is ridiculous.

Ppl were saying feyre mistreated nesta like?? By putting her in the house of wind?? Where later nesta understood that feyre was trying to help her?? Oh yeah the same house of wind that nesta became friends with, made three best friends, stopped drinking, got in shape and finally started to heal? Yeah ok.

Ppl being like oh poor nesta everyone was mean to her like…those were people she was mean to.

She was a huge bitch to feyre in the first book FIRST OF ALL. And then feyre kept her alive and fought for her. When I brought this up they were all like “feyre wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for nesta” like wow it’s almost like it’s supposed to be a full circle moment where nesta realizes she was unfair to feyre. SHE LITERALLY SAYS SHE LOVES HER. Like yall are fr stupid. Nesta would not like you. She literally felt bad bc she was a bitch to feyre. And then when I said that they were like “Nesta had low self worth so she felt bad for every thing wah wah” like ok yeah but also the remorse for her treatment of feyre was warranted. Like I’m not saying she should be feeling like a piece of shit and beating herself up but like …u were a bitch to ur sister who kept you alive.

Period

Also about how feyre would be dead w out nesta, nesta wouldn’t have been able to save feyre if feyre hadn’t saved her first in the FIRST BOOK. Acosf ends with the sisters moving forward and beginning to fix their relationship so idk why you’re still hating on feyre. If you can suck nestas dick even tho she was a bitch to feyre you can forgive feyre for stuff she did in Acosf that pissed u off.

Also someone was like “she didn’t mistreat feyre feyre was mean to her first.” WHEN??

W H E N

No literally when bc the minute the book starts nesta is a huge bitch and calls her a half wild beast so don’t evennnnnn.

Anyway bitches on tik tok have me PISSED OFF and i don’t wanna respond to their bitchy asses anymore so I need to just vent my anger on here.

People who hate on feyre are so annoying like how did you read the first FOUR books if you hate her sm?? Like ur literally making this not fun lmaooo let me like feyre. I’m not mad at u for liking nesta. I’m mad at u for being stupid

[grainscharacter]

read on ao3

There are a few things that Grian has been… too preoccupied to think about, with all of his worries about making the desert defendable, but not hazardous (because surely either he or Scar will forget about any traps he sets, and trigger them, and he is only green, technically).

His to-do list is long enough that, if he were to put it to paper, it would probably fill up a whole book. So it’s understandable that something has to fall to the wayside.

It’s not bad—really, it’s not!—it’s just slightly annoying, when he’s building and his hair falls into his face, or when he’s making his way through a forest and it gets caught in a stray branch, but it’s nothing terribly inconvenient.

It’s just—in the desert, he hasn’t really have the time to cut it, and now it’s getting long enough to be truly dangerous if he were to get in a fight, and he never learned to style long hair.

He can put it up in a messy ponytail, but it always comes out quicker than he’d prefer. So. What’s even the point?

He’s weighing the merits of chopping it all off, dagger in hand, when Scar comes into the fortress and gasps.

“Grian!”

He pauses.

“Don’t cut off your hair, Grian! It’s just too pretty, and I never get to see your hair all grown out and long like this!”

Grian lowers the dagger away from his hair, but doesn’t put it down, “It’s too long. There’s no point in keeping it if it's just going to get in my way.”

“It won’t get in your way! And, really,” and here Scar puts his merchant voice on,“if you think about it, all cutting it is gonna achieve is make it awkward in a week or so when it’s too long to do anything with.”

Grian tilts his head and shrugs. He already can’t do anything with it; he doesn’t know how to. He likes the feel of his hair long like this, but it really, really is not worth it. “I guess.”

“Oh!” Scar says, “I get it! You don’t want to do your hair! Well don’t you worry, Mr G-Man, I have got that 100% covered! Scar’s hair services, coming right up!”

“I—Scar, no!”

“What?” and now he sounds sad.

“I just. I don’t know how, Scar. It’s not worth it.”

“Awh, come on, I’ll do it for you!” and then, as if worried Grian won’t let him, Scar says, “I’ll even teach you! Easy and simple!”

“Alright, alright,” Grian relents.

Scar beams, and gestures for him to go sit on the bed. Grian goes, and sits with his back to scar as he bustles around looking for… something, Grian’s sure.

He feels Scar’s presence behind him right before he speaks, “Well, G, we’ve gotta start with brushing all of your tangles out, which, mister, I’ve only seen you do a few times. Really, it’s easier if you do it more often.”

Grian hums as Scar drags the brush lightly through his hair. It pulls some, and is a little painful, but Scar seems to be doing something to make it hurt less than when Grian does it, so it’s not even unpleasant.

They sit in a comfortable silence, broken only by the sound of the brush, before Grian fees Scar’s hands in his hair again.

“Okay. We’re not going to do anything fancy here—you need to be able to do it by yourself, and you haven’t ever braided your hair before—which is a shame, because you would look uh-mayyyy-zing with those wonderful elven braids I used to have.”

Grian can feel him… parting? his hair. He thinks that’s correct. He does know the basics of how a braid works, at least.

“Okay. We’re gonna take three even strands of hair—just separate it all out, for the simplest braid—and layer them over each other. You’ve done this before, for rope. It’s just like that, only you do it more by feel than sight.”

Grian hums again.

“Here, you try.”

He reaches back and finds the strands of hair, then tries to clumsily weave them together. He doesn’t do well, but he’s not doing terribly, so there’s that.

“Yeah! Like that!” Scar says, and then, “But I wanna do a Dutch braid, which is a tiny bit more complicated, on you today. That way you can probably leave it in for a few days, if you’re careful with it.”

Well, okay. That’s fine. Scar’s hands in his hair have a calming effect, so Grian doesn’t even feel a little bit bad about nodding and settling back into the bed with his hands in front of him.

Scar keeps up a gentle narration as he unbraids the part of Grian’s hair they had braided together, and then as he separates Grian’s hair out again. Grian’s not listening at all, and, as Scar establishes a rhythm, he can’t keep his eyes from slipping shut, for a moment.

It’s nice. Scar’s hands in his hair are gentle and warm, and he’s pulling at it softly, at a steady rhythm, and gradually, Grian finds he isn’t at all worried about his long to-do list, or about thinking up any fun traps.

Scar’s voice gradually gets quieter as he goes on, but he never stops talking entirely. Not until, an indeterminate amount of time later, he ties a ribbon at the end of the braid he’s made and tells Grian he’s done.

Grian hums back sleepily, but he doesn’t make any move to get up. He does the opposite; now that his head doesn’t need to be accessible he can slump back against Scar’s chest, which makes Scar laugh.

“Yeah?” He says.

“Yeah,” Grian says back, and doesn’t feel even a little bit stressed as Scar gently moves his head to the side to settle into the bed himself and runs his fingers over the braid he just made.

“It suits you.”

“Mm?”

“Long hair. The braid. It suits you.”

“Oh,” Grian says, sleepily, and then turns over with his head in Scar’s lap, “Of course it does. You made it.”

[urlocalmultigroupfan]

fallout (pt. 4)

pairing: bang chan x female reader

summary: you work with skz in chernobyl. everything is fine....until it isn't.

tags/warnings: gruesome and horrific material, explosions, gory kind of? sorry if i missed anything.... still putting it together.

a/n: guysss skz is coming to my city! the tickets sold out in 12 hours tho lmao its in june?? but the resale tickets are CHEAP like 60 dollars lol! gonna see if i will get one

btw im thinking of continuing without you!! im just continue from where i last was....hopefully yall can put the pieces together 😭😭 sorry yall

also sorry this is so short...i feel terrible for getting minho like this 😔

The stale air of the meeting room weighs heavy, thick with tension and the faint metallic tang of burnt metal. You've barely slept since the explosion, the haunting imagery of flames and debris seared into your mind. But there's no time for rest. Not when Minho’s condition worsens with every passing hour.

You sit at the edge of the cot in the medical tent, staring at his pallid face. His breaths come shallow, his lips a faint grayish tint. It’s hard to reconcile this fragile figure with the Minho you know—the sarcastic, sharp-eyed man who always seemed untouchable. The radiation doesn’t care about invincibility.

“His temperature’s still climbing,” Chan murmurs beside you. His voice is hoarse, cracked at the edges from days of barking orders and endless meetings. “The doctors... they don’t know what else to do.”

You glance at him, searching for even a flicker of reassurance, but all you see is the weight of guilt on his shoulders. You hate that he blames himself. None of this is his fault.

Minho stirs, his eyelids fluttering weakly. "You guys..." His voice is barely audible, a shadow of its usual self. "Stop... hovering. It's annoying."

You laugh softly despite the tears burning your eyes. “Shut up, Minho. You’re lucky we’re here.”

His lips twitch into the faintest ghost of a smile before his face contorts in pain. He grips your hand tightly, and you can feel the tremor in his fingers. “Promise me...” His words trail off as another wave of agony overtakes him.

You swallow hard. “What?”

“Promise me you’ll figure out what caused this. Make them pay for it.”

The sheer resolve in his tone makes your chest tighten. “I promise,” you whisper, gripping his hand back just as tightly. “But you’re not going anywhere. We’ll figure this out together.”

Chan steps forward, his jaw set. “I’ll talk to the others. We need to find out how much exposure we all had. If it’s worse than they’re letting on...” His words trail off, but the implication is clear.

“Chan...” Your voice cracks. “Don’t push yourself too hard.”

He turns to you, his eyes meeting yours for a brief, heart-wrenching moment. “I have to. If I don’t, who will?”

Back at the command post, you find Felix poring over blueprints and diagrams of the reactor. He looks up as you enter, his face pale but determined. “There’s something wrong with the data they’re giving us,” he says, pointing to the charts. “The exposure levels they reported—they’re way lower than they should be.”

“How much lower?” you ask, your heart sinking.

“Enough that it looks intentional,” Felix replies grimly. “They’re covering up the severity of the leak.”

Chan exhales sharply through his nose, pacing the room like a caged tiger. “We need to act fast. If they’re lying, there could be more people at risk.”

As the pieces begin to fall into place, you realize the scale of what you’re up against. This isn’t just about an accident—it’s a fight against time, deception, and an invisible enemy that’s already wreaking havoc on the people you care about.

And Minho is running out of time.

[dragon-gem]

… I was inspired okay.

—

Zane shifted in his seat, discomfort mixing with anxiety inside of him. I wish this was over with already.

It was only him and Pixal today. The others were off doing other things, and although he’d offered to join them, she had been insistent.

You haven’t undergone any maintenance in 60 years, Zane. You must slow down for one moment so I can assess your systems.

Except that he didn’t want to slow down, didn’t want to think too hard about all those years. Slowing down meant having time to consider. Slowing down meant allowing the guilt to consume him.

Zane had never wanted to erase his own memory so badly as he had in the last few weeks.

“I will be as quick as I can, I promise.” Pixal glanced over at him and smiled, her green eyes sparkling under the fluorescent lights of the garage.

“I know. I’ve just been putting it off.” Zane forced himself to sit still as she came over, putting a hand over his chest compartment before pressing the button to open it. “I feel fine, you know.”

“I am sure you do. But that amount of time without maintenance must have been difficult on your circuits. I’m just going to assess the damage and what repairs will need to be done.”

He laid back so she could see, staring up at the stone ceiling. “It… was a bit of time, wasn’t it?”

“Yes.” Pixal stopped, her voice filled with… was that hesitation? “Zane, did your internal heater stop functioning?”

“I usually have no need of it. My temperature gauge is a bit off, but beyond that…” Zane stopped, glancing over at her. “Why do you ask?”

“There is… ice.”

“What?”

“You have ice coating your circuits,” she clarified, her eyes finally meeting his. “Have you been running slower than normal?”

“Maybe? I haven’t noticed. How bad is it?”

Pixal sighed. “I have to run a full diagnostic. Zane, I’ve never seen your powers affect you like this.”

He didn’t say anything for a minute, letting her plug him into the computer and blinking at the flow of information that came across his vision. Mission reports, blueprints, information from all over Ninjago City…

It was dizzying. He never liked being online— conscious when he was plugged into the computers.

Zane shut his eyes, blocking the flow. “I wasn’t myself, Pixal. I couldn’t control my abilities. I…” I did horrible things, my love. So many terrible things. I don’t even want to tell you about them because I know you’ll despise me.

I despise myself. I didn’t protect anyone. All I did was destroy.

Pixal must have sensed his thoughts, because she put a hand on his shoulder. “You must not blame yourself, Zane. It wasn’t your fault.”

“Yes, it was. I shouldn’t have been so corruptible, shouldn’t have allowed my powers to be used that way.” He shuddered. “I remember it all, Pixal. Every moment. Every person I froze. Every scream… I have violated my base code.”

She didn’t respond for a moment, a warmth filtering through him as she turned on his internal heater. How long had it been since he’d turned that on? It must have turned off at some point while he was—

No, best not to dwell on it.

“I refuse to believe it was your fault.” Pixal finally said. “Look at me, Zane.”

He opened his eyes, focusing on her face. Every line, every carefully smoothed out bump and scratch. She was familiar to him, as familiar as his powers had been.

At least up until he had used them only to terrorize and destroy for 60 years. Now, he could hardly recognize himself.

Pixal smiled, touching his cheek gently. “I don’t blame you for what happened, Zane. None of us do.”

“I am a monster, Pixal,” Zane whispered, hating the words as soon as they fell from his mouth. “I ki—“

“No. It wasn’t you.”

“It was my hands. My powers. I should have tried to fight it, I should have at least tried to resist the scroll.”

“You did. You almost hurt Lloyd, and you didn’t do it, remember?”

“Because he said my name. If he hadn’t…”

“Lloyd is fine. The people of the Never Realm will be fine. It is you I am worried about.”

Zane fell silent, watching as her attention turned back to his frost bitten insides. “I was the Ice Emperor longer than I’ve been a ninja, you know. I’m older than you now. Much older.”

“I know, but you’ve always been older than me. You are the outdated model, remember?” Pixal’s tone was teasing, but even he caught the undercurrent of sadness. She doesn’t like this any more than I do.

“Not to worry, Zane, I’ve always liked older men.” Pixal smiled at him before looking down again, her fingers stilling their repairs. “I only wish I had been able to do something to stop this from happening to you.”

He shook his head. “I would have only hurt you, Pixal. I don’t want that— I’ve never wanted that.”

Pixal pressed a button on the computer, and the dizzying spread of information finally stopped scrolling across his vision. Thank the FSM. “I would do anything to get you back, Zane. Fate seems to enjoy separating us, and I am beginning to get tired of it.”

Zane managed a smile. “Perhaps this will be the last time.”

“One can only hope.”

Silence fell over the two of them as she continued to work, more of a comfortable silence than anything else.

Maybe it wasn’t truly the act of forgetting that I wanted, he mused, staring up at the ceiling once again. Maybe it is the privilege of being able to cry.

YOU KNOW WHAT I WOULD'VE LOVED TO SEE? THE IMPACT OF ZANE BEING THE ICE EMPEROR FOR 60 YEARS.

HE WAS THE ICE EMPEROR LONGER THAN HE'S BEEN A NINJA.

HE KILLED ALMOST ALL OF THE YETIS. HE FROZE THE FORMLING VILLAGE. HE CORRUPTED THE SAMURAI. All of that goes against his base directive - to protect those who cannot protect themselves.

I NEED to see the emotional impact on Zane, and eventually the rest of the team. Bonus points if it comes with seeing the impact on Zane's body, since he definitely didn't get any maintenance in his time in the Never-Realm.

[lady-harrowhark]

my 4.5 year covid-free streak has officially ended 😔

[trans-androgyne]

“it’s crazy how many people hate cats. consistently, without reason. ” “so you don’t think people hate dogs? you think everyone loves dogs and that no dog has ever been abused? this is so ignorant of the dog community” “no i didn’t say that, i was just talking about cats—“ “but you weren’t talking about dogs. so you hate dogs and think only cats are hated.” that’s what you sound like

Cats: “It’s crazy how many people hate cats. Consistently, without reason. This must mean dogs have privilege over us”

Dogs: “You’re right that’s awful and I want to support you, but people hate us too? It just looks different but it isn’t a privilege. I can give you examples”

You, specifically: “Oh my fucking god it’s always about you, isn’t it, can’t you ever shut up for two seconds and stop making shit up you whiny hysterical bitch”

That’s what you sound like :)

[isthatafuckinggayangel]

I wanted to continue this thing that I wrote for @cod-dump (hope you don’t mind me tagging you lmao), just kinda expanding upon the concept of Nik being Soap’s father and getting into more of the meat in the idea, so here

~~~

Explaining to Ghost and Gaz everything that had gone on between Nik and Soap, their relationship and all, was exhausting. The number of questions they had took forever to get through and made Soap think a little too hard about what why his mother had caused this.

At the same time though, it made him realize he needed to call her to get all the information straightened out here. He needed to know why she did it. Why she separated him from his father.

So, a few days after he had gotten everything sorted with Nik and the team was on the same page with everything, he made the call. He had both Ghost and Nik sit in on the call with him, he couldn’t get himself to do it without some support and he needed to have Nik there to make sure any lies didn’t slip passed him. The trio were sat around the dining table in the common room, Nik and Ghost on either side of Soap. He pressed the call button and made sure it was on speaker, holding it in his left hand still.

“Tha e math cluinntinn bhuat a-rithist, John. It’s been too long since ye called!” She answered the phone with.

“Sorry ‘bout that. It’s been quite busy out here, so I haven’t had the chance.” Soap rested his forehead in his palm and Ghost ran his hand along his upper back in a soothing motion.

“Is there somethin’ goin’ on, a chuilein? Ye sound a bit upset.”

“Yeah, um, I’ve been thinking a lot and had a few questions fer you, if that’s alright?”

“Of course, it is! Ask away.”

He took a deep breath then went for it. “Why did you tell me my da abandoned me?”

There was silence on the other end. The seconds stretched for what felt like forever.

“Well, that’s because he did. He made it very clear to me that he didn’t want to speak to any of us, and as much as it pained me, I knew we had to respect his wishes.”

Soap saw Nik’s fist clench out of the corner of his eye and looked up, seeing an expression of barely concealed rage. Soap set his phone on the table, reaching over and grabbing his father’s hand to try to help calm him.

“Ma, do you remember what he does for work?”

“…What do you mean, John?”

“I need you to be honest with me. Why did you lie?”

He was met with more silence.

“I dinnae lie, John.”

“Ma. I’m givin’ ya one more chance to be honest. I need you to take it.”

“I don’t understand, I’ve been honest-“

He let out a sigh before laying it all out. “I met him again, Ma. Ye seem tae have forgotten what he does fer work. We work together now. I read his journal, ma. I know what you told ‘im. I know you lied to both of us. So why? I just wanna know why you did it.”

“It’s a very complicated situation-“

“Bullshit. I know a complicated situation when I see one, and this is not one.”

“John-“

“Не лги нашему сыну, Elspet.” Nik growled. He’d clearly had enough of her avoiding the question she’d been asked.

“Nikolai, I-“

“You will answer the question the boy asked. You will not disrespect him or diminish his intelligence by acting as though you do not understand what he is talking about.”

They were once again met with silence. Ghost moved closer to Johnny, wrapping his arm around his shoulders and holding him against his side.

“I was tired. Your father’s job took a toll on me, on our family, and I couldn’t handle it anymore. The entire time you were away from me, every summer, I was so scared his job would follow him home and I wouldn’t know because you were so far away. I needed to have you close to make sure you were okay. That you were safe. I couldn’t think of anything else to be able to do it.” She paused. “Look at where that’s gotten us now. You enlisted for the same damn job and now ye work together. Guess it couldn’t truly be avoided.”

Soap was seething. While he understood being afraid for your child’s safety, he couldn’t get passed the manipulation. The lies. The fact that she didn’t just explain that that was the problem. He could have kept up with phone calls, letters, something so he wouldn’t lose his father. And yet, this was the decision she had made.

Nik squeezed his hand and Ghost hugged him a bit tighter.

“John?”

A deep breath. “Thank you for your honesty. I’m gonna need some time to process all that. I’ll call you again soon, yeah?”

“Yeah. I love you, John.”

“Love ye too, ma.” He hung up the phone and rested his head against the table. “Christ, that sucked.”

“Are you alright, love?” Ghost asked.

“I’ll be alright eventually. Just gonna need some time.” He picked his head back up and looked over at Nik. “You alright? Cannae exactly be easy for you to hear either.”

He gave a light nod. “I’ll be okay eventually, малыш. It will take time, as you said, but it will be fine.” He squeezed Soap’s hand again and Soap did the same back. “У нас все будет хорошо.”

~~~

Translations

Tha e math cluinntinn bhuat a-rithist, Johnny. -> It’s lovely to hear from you again, Johnny.

A chuilein -> my lad

Не лги нашему сыну -> Don’t lie to our son

Малыш -> little one

У нас все будет хорошо -> We will be okay

Apologies for any incorrect translations, the Gaelic is done with google translate and the Russian is a different translation app, so chances are there’s something wrong with it. Let me know if you have any corrections on it!

[galactophorousaeolistic]

Kanaya obediently allowed Jade to manipulate her body so that the two of them could whisper at one another. She draped both of her arms over each of Jade’s shoulders as her lips continued to dance and trace across Jade’s features as they spoke.

“Mmn, Caught Me,” she smiled as she spoke against Jade’s jawline. “Don’t be Too Cross with Me. You can’t go telling me All Those Juicy rumors about the uniform and not Want Me to Investigate. I’d do it Myself but she seems to like Her Quarry more…” she ran her fingers across the biceps of the woman she sat upon.

“Rugged, I believe was your Term?”

She teased. She was maybe being a bit too mean to Jade. She had to imagine this was frustrating, and she was blocking access to their food at this point. She could feel her boss running hot, and while most of the heat seemed to be focused downward, Kanaya knew she was being a bit of a handful right now. That was sort of the point though. It was a nice change of pace from the cold of the milkshakes too.

Though, as she thought on it, the longer she went without a shake the less keen she was on dragging things out too terribly long. Vriska was likely in recovery somewhere, and she hadn’t properly followed up on that yet. For a moment, she looked around the rest of Drip, realizing herself for a brief moment.

…but. Regardless, Jade was seemingly offer to help her with filling out her Cork Board. If there was something off about the uniforms, she couldn’t pass up the opportunity.

Jade wasn’t always so willing to go along with this kind of thing.

“So… what do you say?” She asked, focusing on her boss once more, tracing the frames of Jade’s glasses with her fingers. “Are you feeling in a Good Enough mood to indulge in my Escapades? Despite my efforts she seems Rather Uninterested in Me.”

She put on a half-hearted pout.

“Can you Imagine?”

Goody Two Huge

Jade walked down the hall. Everyone knew it even those from the other end. It was the boots. Their heavy metal heels clacked on the ground. It was the scent, the cloying waft of herbs that announced her arrival, forcing nostrils to flare and drink deeply of the honor students aroma, even as it overpowered their senses.

It was her.

Jade bristled as she strutted. She was actually in a good mode but she bristled anyway. It was hard not to, her old outfits her precious tyedies, were all tattered and every inhale caused muscles to push against this confining uniform they painted on her. To snap and bare herself before the world. Which she didnt ACTUALLY want to do. She liked the pressure... but it was so WEAK. Everything felt weak now. Like it would snap around her fingers if she pushed. Like it wanted to snap. There was a bubbling tension sinking down her stomach, lower if she was honest, that told her to let it. And she crushed it beneath her boot, feeling that urge pop beneath her mental power.

Still the tension was there, that welling feeling of pride that needed to preen... and yet, the women staring at her, quivering before her... well she didnt want to call them subpar... but they were hardly sophisticated. They tittered over her muscles and hanged off every word and threatened her precious composure... but they didnt get it. She needed...

Jade grinned. The light reflecting @galactophorousaeolistic form in her ruby glasses. The long goth punk in red. Her oh so disobedient servant, wandering off and forcing Jade to carry her own burdens.

Jade immediately made a beeline towards her. The relatively petite woman effortlessly cutting a beeline straight to her prey.

FRIEND. Her FRIEND. Who owed her. Who will be owned by her. But still hers friend.

Jade smiled braces glittering gold around her teeth as she craned her neck up. "Kanaya I missed you. You should have called."

[arolesbianism]

Welcome to the “they’re just like me fr (derogatory)” club featuring no color because I would rather die than draw Sif with color

[danielnelsen]

things aren’t going well with peach. while i think my dad’s very right to be concerned that she hasn’t eaten anything in nearly 60 hours (obviously i am too), im becoming increasingly concerned that she hasn’t slept at all in around 36 hours and prior to that she was under anaesthetic, which isn’t exactly restful, so it’s closer to 48 hrs

like dad took her back to the vet today and we’ve got injections for her painkillers now because she’s not eating, and also injections for fluids (because she doesn’t drink; she only gets water from her food), so the not eating is Bad but also kinda under management, but if she doesn’t sleep soon i’m extremely worried. dad was like ‘if she doesn’t eat by tomorrow afternoon we’ll take her back because the injections will run out’ but like. if she doesn’t sleep tonight we have GOT to take her back first thing in the morning so they can sedate her or something

[cavity-collector]

i genuinely need to be put down like a dog i cant do this anymore man holy shit

[chilapis]

Last post before I crash and no-one hears from me until I return from my first final the morrow’s eve (a changed man no doubt) but there’ll never be anything funnier to me than consistently being viewed as a composed and calm saviour by peers while I’m, actively and uncontrollably losing it.