#but generally they can stick to the melody

[estellan0vella]

Absolutely Fucking Perfectly Imperfect: L.F Lee Felix x fem!reader (College AU)

WC: 10.9K

CW: Guns, robbery, Felix uses the word cunt, inappropriate reactions in the face of danger

General Masterlist SKZ Masterlist Part I

The room is steeped in the low thrum of Felix's game. A constant, chaotic melody of clacks, pings, and loud swearing. His three monitors shift between shades of brilliant neon, painting the walls with flickers of pink, green, and blue. Felix is leaning forward in his chair, elbows braced on his desk, the hood of his oversized sweatshirt falling halfway off his head. His messy blonde hair sticks out at odd angles and his jaw tightens as he glares at the screen.

"You absolute blind fuckwit," he growls into his headset, his Australian accent sharp with irritation. "I pinged the gank five fucking times! What do you cunts even do when you play? Draw fucking pictures?"

The venom in his words makes you snort softly, but you quickly press a hand over your mouth to stifle the sound. You're sprawled across his bed, one leg hooked under you while the other bounces idly in time with the lo-fi beats playing softly from your phone. Your paramedic science textbook is open in front of you, drowning in sticky notes and highlights, and yet you've barely absorbed a single sentence in the past fifteen minutes.

Felix slams his mouse against the pad, his free hand running through his hair as he mutters to himself. "Goddamn trolls. How the fuck am I still stuck with people like this?"

You bite your lip, trying desperately to keep your focus on the diagram in your book. But when Felix groans, loud, dramatic, and utterly exasperated, it's impossible to hold back the laugh bubbling in your chest.

"You're not fucking slick, sweetheart," Felix says, his voice cutting through the space without warning. He doesn't even glance your way, still hammering keys with laser-sharp precision. "I can hear you giggling."

You glance up from your textbook, feigning innocence. "Me? Laughing? At you losing? Never."

"Bullshit," he shoots back, finally pulling one ear of his headset off and swivelling in his chair to look at you. The glow from his monitors casts soft shadows across his freckled face, highlighting the sharp line of his jaw and the mischievous tilt of his grin. "You live for my fuck-ups. Admit it."

You raise an eyebrow, sitting up straighter. "I live for many things, Felix, but your decade-long inability to climb out of bronze isn't one of them."

Felix's eyes narrow, his grin widening. "Oh, you're fucking bold tonight, aren't you?" He spins back to his screen as another ping echoes from the game. "Just remember, sweetheart, payback's a fucking bitch."

You snicker, flipping a page in your book with deliberate slowness. "I'm not worried. You're too busy getting carried by your teammates to ever come up with anything clever."

"That's rich," he fires back immediately. "Coming from someone who cried over her med math assignment last week."

Your mouth drops open in mock offence, a highlighter frozen mid-air. "I did not cry. I had a moment of academic distress."

Felix laughs at that, the sound loud and warm, cutting through the tense clicks of his keyboard. "Right, sure. You were so distressed you fucking threw your pen across the room and yelled, 'Fuck it, I'll just die.' Real professional of you, future paramedic."

You chuck a pillow at him without thinking, laughing when it bounces harmlessly off his back. "Eat shit, Lix."

"Gladly," he shoots back, not missing a beat. "But only if you're cooking."

"Oh, fuck off," you retort, biting back a grin. "I wouldn't trust you to boil an egg without setting the kitchen on fire."

"I'm insulted," Felix says, slouching back in his chair as the death screen flashes across his monitors. He peeks at you over his shoulder, an exaggerated pout on his face. "You've eaten my fucking food, Y/N. Tell me it's not amazing. Go on."

"It's okay," you say, shrugging nonchalantly as you highlight another passage in your textbook. "Like, solid six out of ten. Very edible."

Felix gasps, spinning his chair around to fully face you, his hands flying to his chest in mock betrayal. "Six out of fucking ten? Are you kidding me? You fucking licked the plate last time I made pasta!"

"You're delusional," you say, fighting a laugh as you flip another page. "Maybe I was just really hungry."

Felix leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his grin sharp and unrelenting. "You talk so much shit for someone who can't even scramble eggs without making them look like roadkill."

Your jaw drops again, this time with genuine indignation. "Okay, fuck you, those eggs were fine. Rustic, even."

"Rustic?" Felix repeats, his laughter spilling out before he can stop it. "They were burnt. I had to scrape them off the pan with a fucking chisel."

"Fuck off," you mutter, but you're smiling, the textbook in front of you momentarily forgotten. "At least I can make coffee without putting half a kilo of sugar in it."

"First of all," Felix says, holding up a finger, "I put exactly the right amount of sugar. Second, that's fucking rich coming from someone who adds four sugars to hers and then drinks it like it's a health tonic."

You open your mouth to argue, but he cuts you off with a smug grin. "Yeah, sweetheart, I fucking count."

You glare at him. "You're the fucking worst."

"You love it," Felix says smoothly, leaning back in his chair and spinning slightly, his grin turning softer as he watches you pick up your highlighter again.

"Debatable," you mutter.

For a moment, the room falls into a comfortable silence, broken only by the faint hum of Felix's PC and the soft rustling of pages as you flip through your textbook. Felix glances over at you occasionally, a small smile tugging at his lips as he watches you scribble notes in the margins.

"You know," he says eventually, his voice quieter now, almost tentative, "you look kinda cute when you're all focused like that."

You glance up, surprised, and find him watching you with an expression that's softer than usual, his teasing grin replaced with something more genuine. The glow from his monitors cast warm shadows across his freckled cheeks, and you feel your heart stutter at the sight.

"Don't be fucking mushy," you mumble, burying your face back in your book.

Felix laughs, soft and low, his chair creaking as he leans back lazily. "Fine. I'll save it for when you're crying over your next quiz."

"Fuck off, Felix."

"You're so fucking cute when you're mad."

You're elbow-deep in your notes, eyes scanning a particularly dense passage about hemorrhagic shock, when Felix lets out a groan loud enough to rattle the walls. His voice is full of pure, unfiltered frustration as he slams a hand onto his desk.

You glance up and it's almost comical how over-the-top his expression is. Head tilted back, eyes shut, like the world has personally wronged him.

"For fuck's sake," he mutters, dragging a hand down his face. The League of Legends screen vanishes from his screen with a decisive click, the rage-quit both swift and inevitable. He swivels his chair slightly, his freckled face twisted in a mix of defeat and irritation.

"Done with your self-imposed torture?" you ask, leaning back against the wall behind Felix's bed.

Stretching your arms overhead, you feel the hem of your black lace-trimmed camisole ride up slightly, and you tug it down absentmindedly. Felix's gaze flickers toward you at the movement, but he quickly turns back to his screen, pulling up another game launcher.

"Fuck League," he huffs, opening Call of Duty with a few sharp clicks. The new interface floods the room with aggressive reds and blacks. "Let's play something where I can actually ruin other people's days."

You smirk, tapping your pen idly against your notebook. "You mean something where you let other people ruin yours?"

"Oi," he snaps, spinning his chair to point an accusatory finger at you, but the grin tugging at the corner of his lips betrays him. "Shut the fuck up. You don't get to talk when you're the one who cried over a fucking dosage calculation last week."

"I didn't cry," you shoot back, glaring at him. "I had a moment. And don't deflect, we're talking about your fragile gamer ego right now, not my future as a paramedic."

"Fragile?" Felix snorts as he throws on his headset, the mic resting against his cheek. "Sweetheart, I'm about to emotionally destroy some poor cunt in a CoD lobby. You're about to see mental fortitude at its finest."

"Oh, this I have to see." You close your textbook with a snap, crawling to the edge of the bed to get a better view. Felix raises an eyebrow at your movement, his grin widening.

"Come here," he says, patting his thigh with one hand while the other adjusts his mouse sensitivity. "Sit in my lap and listen to me eviscerate these dickless pricks."

You roll your eyes, but the grin you try to suppress betrays you. "You're a fucking idiot," you mutter, standing up and crossing the short distance to his chair. "You know that, right?"

"Yup," he says cheerfully, grabbing your waist as you climb into his lap and his arm wraps around you like it belongs there, securing you against him. "But I'm your idiot."

"Unfortunately," you mutter, but you're smiling as you settle into him, your legs dangling off one side of the chair. Felix's fingers fly over the keyboard as he queues into a match, his in-game mic already unmuted.

The game loads, and almost immediately, Felix's shit-talking begins. "Oi, you camping piece of shit!" he shouts gleefully as he sprints across the map, his character firing wildly. "You gonna spend the whole fucking match in that corner, or are you gonna grow a pair and actually play the fucking game?"

You laugh before you can stop yourself, the sound light and genuine. Felix's grip on your waist tightens slightly as he leans back, turning his head just enough to smirk at you. "What's so funny?"

"You're deranged," you say, shaking your head. "It's just a game."

"It's not just a game," he retorts, spinning back to face his screen. His tone is dramatic, dripping with mock sincerity. "It's about principle. I will not let this dipshit out-insult me. Watch and fucking learn."

You nestle closer, resting your chin on his shoulder as the match kicks into full gear. Felix's hands are a blur on the keyboard and mouse, his voice rising above the chaos of explosions and gunfire. "Oi, you fucking rat bastard! How about you aim for once in your goddamn life, you useless cunt?"

The other player doesn't miss a beat, his crackly voice shooting back through Felix's headset. "Says the guy who sounds like he's 12 and still jerks off to hentai."

Felix barks a laugh, sharp and incredulous, his arm tightening around you. "Hentai? Bro, how about you crawl out of your mom's basement and maybe speak to a woman for once, you dickless clown?"

You burst out laughing, burying your face in Felix's shoulder to muffle the sound. His shit-eating grin only grows wider as he continues. "Yeah, you hear that? That's the sound of a woman's laugh, mate. I know you wouldn't recognize it, but that's what it fucking sounds like."

The other player falters, and Felix pounces on the silence like a predator. "What, got nothing to say now? That's what I fucking thought. Bitchless loser."

You're practically crying at this point, clutching at Felix's hoodie as your laughter spills out uncontrollably. "Oh my fucking God," you manage between gasps. "You're insane."

Felix chuckles, clearly pleased with himself. "And you fucking love it."

"I do not," you shoot back, though the warmth in your tone betrays you. "You're a menace."

"Yeah," Felix says, leaning back slightly as his character reloads. "But I'm your menace."

The other player finally speaks again, his voice wavering with frustration. "Whatever, man. You're fucking dogshit at this game."

Felix snorts, aiming down sights and taking the guy out with a single headshot. "Dogshit, huh? That's funny, coming from someone I just fucking clapped, you silly cunt."

You shake your head, still laughing as Felix adjusts his grip on you, his cheek brushing against yours. "You're the worst."

"And yet," he says, his voice dropping to a teasing murmur, "you're still here."

You glance at him, and for a brief moment, the chaos of the game fades into the background. His dark eyes meet yours, full of mischief and something softer, and your heart stumbles over itself.

"Shut the fuck up," you mutter, looking away quickly, but the smile tugging at your lips is impossible to hide.

Felix laughs, low and warm, and you feel the vibrations of it through his chest. "Whatever you say, sweetheart. Now, let me go ruin someone else's day."

A familiar voice cuts through the channel. "Felix, you absolute cockwaffle, why the fuck are you yelling at strangers again? I can hear you down the fucking hallway."

Felix groans audibly, leaning his head back against the chair in a dramatic display of exasperation. "Jisung, what the fuck do you want?"

Jisung's laugh crackles through the headset, bright and unrelenting. "Just wanted to check in on my favourite blond bitch and remind you that you're dogshit at this game. Like, the kind of dogshit covered in flies and left to bake on hot pavement."

Felix's entire body stiffens, his character spinning wildly on the screen as he slams his fingers against the keyboard. "You silver-haired dick, I will walk down the hall and fight you right fucking now."

Jisung doesn't miss a beat. "Do it. You won't, you spineless sack of kangaroo shit."

"I fucking will," Felix growls, his free hand tightening slightly on your waist. The motion makes you glance up at him, amused. "Or better yet, I'll send Y/N to fight you."

"No fucking way," you chime in, leaning your cheek against Felix's shoulder as you observe the escalating chaos. "I already spend too much time patching up Jisung. Why the fuck would I make more work for myself?"

"That's valid," Jisung says immediately. "See? Y/N's on my side."

Felix turns his head slightly, just enough to send you a mock glare. "She's not on shit, mate. She's just smarter than to waste her energy on a little gremlin like you."

"You blond fuck," Jisung snaps, his voice rising in indignation. "You're the gremlin here! I swear to God, if you call me that again-"

"What?" Felix interrupts, his tone full of fake concern. "What are you gonna do, huh? Cry about it? Piss your pants, maybe? Shit and cum? I'll send you a fucking diaper, Jisung. Express delivery to your room."

"Oh, you absolute wanker," Jisung fires back. "When's the last time you even fucking did laundry, Felix? Your room probably smells like a mix of week-old pizza, gamer sweat, and poor life choices."

"Oh, fuck all the way off," Felix snaps, though he's grinning widely. His hand flies to the mouse as he takes another shot on screen. "At least I don't dress like I raided the wardrobe of a discount backup dancer from fucking Step Up."

"Big talk coming from someone whose entire wardrobe is just oversized hoodies and sweatpants," Jisung shoots back with a laugh so loud it nearly crackles in the headset. "If it weren't for Y/N, you'd look like a fucking hermit."

Felix huffs, his fingers smashing against the keyboard as his character goes down again. "Eat my entire fucking ass, Jisung. I swear to God, if you weren't such a liability, I'd uninstall this game just so you'd be forced to suffer alone."

Jisung cackles, his voice full of smug glee. "Do it, you coward. But remember, when I kick your ass, Y/N's not saving you."

"Oh, I'm not saving either of you," you chime in, giggling as Felix mutters something under his breath about teammates being actual horse shit. His hand slides against your waist again, almost as if grounding himself, while he waits to respawn.

Jisung picks up immediately, his tone back to chaotic energy. "See, Felix? Y/N doesn't even like you."

"Shut the fuck up, Jisung. At least I don't break my toe every other month running into fucking doors."

"You blond fucker," Jisung yells back, his indignation almost comical. "You're never gonna let me live that down, are you?"

"Nope," Felix fires back, leaning forward slightly to hammer out a kill in the game. "You're a fucking hazard to yourself and everyone around you. If Darwinism were real, you'd have died out years ago. Society would have culled you for the betterment of the world"

You can't hold back your laughter anymore, leaning into Felix's shoulder as the insults continue to fly. The absurdity of their exchange, Jisung calling Felix "a gutter-dwelling kangaroo-shagger" and Felix responding with "a fucking mosquito with an inferiority complex", leaves your stomach aching from the sheer ridiculousness of it all.

By the time Felix wraps up the match, somehow pulling a win out of his ass despite the nonstop shit-talking, you're practically breathless with laughter. He yanks off his headset, tossing it onto the desk with a loud sigh of satisfaction, and leans back in his chair, pulling you back against him.

"See that?" he says, grinning smugly as he glances down at you. "Told you I could emotionally destroy those bitches."

"You're ridiculous," you reply, shaking your head even as you fight to suppress your smile. His hand rests warm and steady against your waist, his hoodie soft against your skin.

"And you fucking love it," Felix counters smoothly, his grin widening as he presses a quick, teasing kiss to your temple.

You roll your eyes but let the moment linger, warmth blooming in your chest as Jisung's voice cuts through again, indignant as ever. "Oi, Felix, you absolute fuckstain. I heard that kiss. Save the mushy shit for later, yeah?"

Felix laughs, his chest vibrating against you as he glances toward the door. "Shut the fuck up, Jisung. You're just jealous."

"Damn right, I'm jealous," Jisung shoots back. "Jealous that you're still dogshit at Call of Duty."

"Eat shit and die," Felix says, laughing as he rests his head against yours. "Fucking gremlin."

The soft hum of Felix's gaming rig dims further as his monitors finally shut off, plunging the room into a calm, muted glow from his LED strips. The clock ticks over to 4:00 AM, the hour dragging its weight into the air.

It's quieter now, the kind of silence that clings to the dead of night, thick and unrelenting. You're still perched in Felix's lap, scrolling idly through social media on your phone while his hand rests warm against your thigh. The stillness is comfortable until your stomach betrays you with a loud, unapologetic growl.

"Fucking hell," Felix mutters, breaking the silence with a groan as he nudges you off his lap. "Your stomach sounds like it's trying to summon a goddamn demon."

You shoot him a flat look as you stand, stretching your arms over your head. The hem of your black lace-trimmed camisole rides up slightly, and you catch Felix's eyes flicking down for half a second before he smirks. "It's called hunger, you dick. You wouldn't know since you've been surviving on Doritos and Monster like a fucking raccoon all night."

"That's a perfectly balanced diet, thank you very much," he retorts, leaning back in his chair and spinning lazily to face you. His hoodie is skewed from hours of sitting, the hem riding up just enough to reveal the faint lines of his abs. 

"I need food," you declare dramatically, hands on your hips like you're about to stage a protest. "Real food. Not this gamer bullshit you keep calling a balanced diet."

Felix snorts, pushing himself to his feet and grabbing his phone from the desk. "Good luck finding 'real food' at four in the fucking morning. What do you think this is, MasterChef?" He stretches his arms overhead, his hoodie lifting enough to give you another fleeting glimpse of his toned stomach. His voice pulls you back before your gaze lingers. "How about instant ramen? The convenience store is open, and ramen's practically fucking gourmet at this hour."

You don't hesitate, already grabbing your shoes. "Say less."

Felix chuckles, grabbing his sneakers from under the desk. He doesn't bother tying them, as always, the frayed laces dragging behind him like an afterthought. As he slips them on, you unlatch his window to test the air outside. A sharp gust of cold rushes in, making you shiver.

"It's fucking freezing," you mutter, pulling your arm back inside. Felix, now rummaging through his wardrobe, glances up with an amused smirk.

"No shit," He tosses a black cardigan at you, the fabric hitting you square in the face. "Here. Can't have my sweetheart freezing her ass off and bitching about it the whole way."

You roll your eyes at the nickname, but you slip the cardigan on without complaint. It's oversized, the sleeves swallowing your hands and the hem brushing the tops of your thighs, and it smells faintly of his cologne, a warm, woodsy scent that lingers comfortingly around you. "Thanks, Lix. I'd say you're a gentleman, but we both know that's a fucking lie."

"Oi," he shoots back, grabbing his keys and holding the door open for you with an exaggerated bow. "You wound me."

The hallway of the Alpha Phi house is eerily quiet, the usual chaos replaced by the occasional creak of the floorboards and the faint hum of the fridge down the hall.

Felix pulls the door shut behind him as you both tiptoe past the other guys' rooms, careful not to wake anyone. When you reach the front door, he holds it open for you as the cold night air hits you like a slap.

The walk to the convenience store is short, but the chill bites at your skin, making you huddle closer to Felix. The streets are deserted, bathed in the soft glow of streetlights, and the only sounds are the shuffle of your footsteps and the occasional rustle of leaves caught in the wind.

Felix's hand finds yours without ceremony, his fingers threading through yours with a warmth that contrasts sharply against the cold. "So," he starts, his voice casual but tinged with that mischievous lilt you know so well, "what's the game plan? Ramen? Energy drinks? Or are we going all out like the unhinged fucks we are and getting both?"

"Both, obviously," you reply, squeezing his hand for emphasis. "And chips. And chocolate. Maybe some of those prepackaged muffins too."

He snickers, pulling you closer as another gust of wind whips past. "You're gonna eat all that, feel like shit, and then somehow blame me."

"First of all," you retort, grinning up at him, "I'll feel fine. Second, I'm buying you snacks too, so maybe don't be such an ass about it."

Felix hums thoughtfully, his lips quirking up at the corner. "Alright, fair. You're forgiven."

"Oh, I'm forgiven?" you say, feigning disbelief. "Thanks so much, your majesty. Truly blessed to have your mercy."

"You're welcome, peasant," he replies smoothly, then, without warning, he spins you in a circle, his grip on your hand firm as he twirls you like a dancer mid-performance.

You let out a startled laugh, stumbling slightly as he catches you with both hands. "What the fuck, Felix?"

"Couldn't resist," he says, his grin wide and unapologetic as he tugs you back beside him. "You looked like you needed a little excitement."

"At four in the morning?" you ask, still laughing. "You're fucking insane."

"And yet," he replies, his tone smug as his hand squeezes yours again, "you're still here."

The two of you continue down the street, Felix twirling you every few steps just to hear you giggle. By the time the neon glow of the convenience store sign comes into view, your cheeks hurt from smiling, and you've threatened to shove him into a bush at least three times.

The fluorescent lights of the convenience store buzz faintly, casting a sterile glow over the shelves stocked with instant noodles, candy, and cheap energy drinks. The air smells faintly of burnt coffee and plastic, a strange but familiar comfort to you and Felix.

 It's the unspoken backdrop of your late-night snack runs, the kind of ritual that feels absurdly sacred at this hour. The automatic doors shut behind you with a quiet whoosh, and you grab one of the red plastic baskets stacked near the door.

"Alright," Felix says, clapping his hands together like a man on a mission. "Let's stock the fuck up, sweetheart. We've got a long night of doing absolutely nothing ahead of us."

You smirk, shoving the basket into his chest. "You're in charge of drinks, chef boy."

Felix salutes you mockingly before strolling to the refrigerators, his sneakers scuffing against the tiles. He doesn't even hesitate before yanking open one of the glass doors and grabbing cans of energy drinks like he's on a game show and every second counts. Red Bull, Monster, Rockstar, the classics, pile into the basket with abandon.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Lix," you mutter as he lugs the basket back toward you, the drinks rattling ominously. "You planning to die of caffeine overdose or what?"

Felix grins, his freckles dancing as he shrugs. "Fuck it. If I die, I die. At least I'll be wide fucking awake when it happens."

You roll your eyes, but your lips twitch in amusement as you grab a handful of chocolate bars and throw them into the basket. Felix matches you tit for tat, grabbing sour gummy worms, chips, and a suspiciously large bag of candy-coated chocolates. By the time you reach the ramen aisle, the basket is teetering on the brink of disaster.

"We're going spicy," Felix declares, grabbing a red-and-black packet of ramen and holding it up like a trophy. "You game?"

"Always," you reply, grabbing your own packet. The two of you quickly stock up on more, just in case the apocalypse hits and ramen is the only thing that will save you, and Felix carefully balances the new additions on top of the precarious pile in the basket.

You're halfway through debating the merits of sea salt chips versus barbecue when the automatic doors behind you whoosh open again. A loud, frantic voice booms through the store, tearing through the quiet like a gunshot.

"Everyone on the fucking floor!"

You whip around, and sure enough, there's a man standing in the doorway, a gun clenched in his shaky hands. He's wearing a black ski mask that's slightly crooked, revealing part of his sweaty face, and his body language screams desperation. The store clerk lets out a strangled yelp before diving behind the counter, leaving you and Felix standing frozen in the snack aisle.

Felix meets your gaze, his expression calm but incredulous, like he's just been inconvenienced by the universe itself. "You've got to be fucking kidding me," he mutters under his breath.

You can't help it, a disbelieving snort escapes you as you glance at the gunman, then back at Felix. "Of course this happens while we're here."

Felix sighs dramatically, setting the basket down on the floor with a deliberate thud. "Fucking typical. Can't even get some fucking ramen without some prick trying to play GTA in real life."

The gunman notices you and Felix standing there, clearly unimpressed by the gravity of the situation and waves the gun in your direction. "I said get on the fucking floor!"

You exchange a look with Felix, then slowly lower yourselves to the ground. Felix lies down with all the enthusiasm of someone forced to participate in a group project they didn't sign up for, folding his arms under his head like he's on a beach. "Of all the fucking convenience stores," he mutters under his breath, "he had to walk into this one."

You shoot him a look, biting back a laugh as you settle onto the dirty tiles. "Shut the fuck up, Felix."

"I'm just saying," he whispers, propping his chin on his hand like he's bored. "This guy couldn't pick a different store? A bank, maybe? Literally anywhere else?"

The gunman slams his fist on the counter, yelling at the clerk. "Hurry the fuck up and open the register!"

You glance toward the counter, then back at Felix, who has now rolled onto his side like he's posing for a calendar. "Do you think it's real?" he murmurs, tilting his head toward the gun.

You stifle a laugh, clamping your hand over your mouth. "Felix, shut the fuck up."

He grins, his voice dropping to a low, amused whisper. "I'm just saying, what if it's, like, a water gun? Or some shitty BB gun he got off eBay?"

You shake your head, trying to suppress the absurd giggle bubbling in your chest, but it escapes anyway. Felix shoots you a triumphant look, clearly pleased with himself.

"Oi, you two!" the gunman barks, his voice cracking with frustration. "Shut the fuck up back there!"

Felix doesn't even flinch. "Sure thing, Mr. Criminal Mastermind," he mutters under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear.

"Felix!" you hiss, your voice a mix of a scold and a laugh. "You're gonna get us killed."

He shrugs, his grin unrelenting. "Doubt it. He's all talk."

To prove Felix wrong, the guy fires a shot into the air. The deafening crack makes you flinch instinctively, your hand flying to Felix's arm. He stays completely unfazed, his expression almost bored as he mutters, "See? Terrible fucking aim."

You choke on a laugh, burying your face in your arms to muffle the sound. Felix, ever the shit-stirrer, grins like a Cheshire cat.

"Shut the fuck up back there!" the guy yells again, his voice higher now, tinged with panic.

Felix leans his head closer to yours, his voice still low and dripping with amusement. "Think he's ever been laid?"

"Felix," you whisper, biting your lip to stop another laugh. "For fuck's sake-"

"What?" he says, feigning innocence. "It's a valid question. He's got serious incel energy."

The gunman stomps toward the back of the store, still yelling at the clerk, and Felix lets out another exaggerated sigh. "Fucking rookie," he mutters, shaking his head like he's genuinely disappointed.

You glance at him, half-laughing, half-mortified. "I can't take you fucking anywhere, Lee Felix."

"And you fucking love it," he replies, his grin widening. "Now, let's see how this plays out."

The guy spins back toward you and Felix, his gun raised and pointed directly at the two of you. His posture screams tension, shoulders hunched, chest heaving, hands shaking slightly.

But you and Felix? You're fucking useless. The absurdity of the whole situation has a death grip on both of you, and neither of you can stop laughing.

"You think this is fucking funny?" the guy barks, his voice vibrating with equal parts rage and disbelief.

You're clutching Felix's hoodie sleeve as your shoulders shake. The laughter bubbles uncontrollably out of your chest, your face pressed into Felix's arm in a desperate attempt to muffle the sound. Felix isn't helping. He's snickering like a teenager in church, his lips twitching upward every time he glances at the guy.

"Funniest shit I've seen all week," Felix mutters, wiping at his eyes like he's genuinely emotional about the comedy of it all.

"Stand the fuck up!" The guy waves his gun wildly at you, his voice cracking as he shouts.

Felix lets out a long-suffering sigh, tilting his head back as though this is the greatest inconvenience of his life. "Alright, alright, keep your fucking panties on," he mutters, nudging you gently with his shoulder. "C'mon, sweetheart. We wouldn't wanna upset Mr. Very Serious Crime Guy."

You both get to your feet, but the laughter doesn't stop. It's fucking ridiculous, and neither of you can find it in yourselves to take this seriously. not when Felix's mouth is twitching like he's fighting back the punchline to a bad joke.

The guy points his gun directly at Felix now, his knuckles white against the grip. "You wanna get shot, pretty boy?"

Felix blinks at him, utterly unfazed. "Not particularly, but thanks for the offer. Generous of you."

The sound that escapes you is half-snort, half-laugh, and you slap a hand over your mouth immediately. The guy's eyes snap to you, his glare sharp enough to cut glass, but you can't stop the way the giggles keep bubbling out of your throat.

"You're really leaning into this whole 'angry criminal' vibe, huh?" Felix says, tilting his head at the guy. His tone is light, conversational, like they're discussing the weather. "Bit cliché, though, don't you think?"

"What the fuck are you on about?" The guy's voice is rising now, his frustration palpable.

"Oh, you know," Felix says, gesturing vaguely toward the gun with a casual flick of his wrist. "Big scary man with a weapon compensating for some deeply-rooted insecurities. Classic projection."

"What the fuck did you just say?" the guy spits, his stance bristling with barely-contained rage.

"You heard me," Felix smirks, his voice laced with mockery. "Screams small dick energy."

Your laugh bursts out of you before you can stop it, loud and breathless, and you double over slightly, gripping Felix's arm to steady yourself. Felix looks down at you, grinning like the cat that caught the canary. The guy's face, what little of it is visible beneath the ski mask, flushes an angry red.

"You little shits," the guy growls, his voice trembling with rage. "Keep running your mouths, see what happens."

"Oh no," Felix deadpans, leaning closer to you like he's letting you in on a joke. "He's threatening us, sweetheart. Whatever will we do?"

"I don't know. Maybe if we laugh hard enough, he'll rethink his life choices."

"You're fucking insane!" the guy shouts, taking a menacing step forward. His hands shake harder now, the barrel of the gun wobbling slightly as he points it between the two of you.

Felix raises an eyebrow, his grin widening. "Us? You're the one waving a gun around at four in the fucking morning. You might wanna reevaluate some things."

Before the guy can reply, there's a sudden, sharp crack from behind him. The sound echoes through the store, followed by a guttural thud as the guy stumbles forward and crashes face-first onto the dirty tile. The gun clatters to the floor, and behind him stands the cashier, gripping a battered wooden baseball bat like it's his lifeline.

The cashier's eyes are wide, his chest heaving as he stares down at the unconscious man. For a moment, no one moves. Then Felix lets out a slow clap, each exaggerated smack of his hands ringing out in the silent store.

"Fucking hell," Felix says, his tone downright cheerful. "Didn't think you had it in you. That was beautiful. Poetry in motion."

The cashier glares at him, his grip on the bat still tight. "Nice job distracting him with your dumb fucking jokes and fake giggling," he mutters. "Really helped."

"Oh no, that wasn't a distraction," Felix replies, shaking his head with a shit-eating grin. "That was one hundred percent real. Funniest fucking thing I've ever been part of."

"You're kidding," the cashier deadpans, his face a mix of exhaustion and disbelief.

"Not even a little," Felix says, grinning wider. "You're a goddamn hero, though. Iconic. Sweetheart, wasn't that iconic?"

You nod, still laughing as you lean against Felix for support. "To be fair," you say, your voice breathless, "who even robs a convenience store at four in the fucking morning? Deserved it."

The cashier stares at you both like you're clinically insane, but his shoulders sag as he lets out a heavy sigh. "You're both fucking crazy," he mutters. "Anyway, whatever you want? It's on the house. Just take it and get the fuck out of here before I have to call the cops."

Felix's eyes light up like a kid on Christmas morning. "Oh, sweetheart, you heard the man. Free shit. Quick, grab more ramen. And vodka. Lots of vodka."

"Lix," you groan, though you can't keep the laughter out of your voice. "We don't need-"

"Sweetheart," Felix interrupts, grabbing another basket with one hand and slinging his free arm around your shoulders. "This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. You don't say no to free snacks."

You roll your eyes but let him lead the way, watching as he raids the shelves like a man on a mission. Chips, candy, booze, more energy drinks, instant ramen, it all goes into the basket with reckless abandon.

You grab a few more chocolate bars and a pack of cookies for good measure, and by the time you're done, the two of you are weighed down with enough junk food to survive a nuclear apocalypse.

"Thanks, legend," Felix says as he carries the overloaded basket to the door. "You've earned that Employee of the Month title."

The cashier doesn't even respond, too busy dialling the cops as you and Felix step out into the chilly night air. The faint wail of sirens carries in the distance, and Felix glances down at you, his grin softening slightly as he balances the bags in his hands.

"You alright, sweetheart?" he asks, his voice quieter now.

You nod, leaning into his side as you start the walk back. "Yeah. You?"

He hums thoughtfully, then smirks. "Honestly? Best fucking night of my life."

The streets are eerily silent, save for the occasional rustle of leaves in the faint breeze as you and Felix stumble your way back to the Alpha Phi frat house. The neon-lit chaos of the convenience store feels like a fever dream now, the vodka in your systems the only tangible evidence it even happened.

Both of you are giggling like fucking lunatics, swigging from your bottles with zero regard for the fact that it's nearing five in the morning. The night air bites at your exposed skin, but the vodka burns hot in your veins, a liquid fire keeping you both upright. Barely.

Felix pauses mid-step, his sneakers scraping against the pavement as he takes another long drink from his bottle. His cheeks are flushed a warm pink, and his eyes gleam with sloppy amusement as he holds up the now-almost-empty bottle like it's the fucking Holy Grail. "Fuck me, this is some good shit. Tastes better 'cause it's free."

You laugh, tipping your own bottle up for another swig. The sharp sweetness burns your throat, but it's the good kind of burn, the kind that makes everything seem a little funnier. "Cherry vodka might actually be the love of my life," you say with a contented sigh, lowering the bottle. "Sorry, Lix."

Felix gasps in mock offense, clutching his chest like you've just personally betrayed him. "Sweetheart, how could you? I thought we had something special. Something real."

"Not as real as this vodka," you tease, stumbling a little as your foot catches on a crack in the sidewalk. Felix reacts instantly, one arm looping around your waist to steady you.

"You're fucking hopeless," he mutters, grinning as he tugs you closer to his side. "You fall for vodka faster than you fall for me. What the fuck is that about?"

"It's vodka," you reply, deadpan. "What do you expect?"

By the time you reach the corner leading to the frat house, both of your bottles are empty. Felix stares at his in mild disappointment, tipping it upside down and watching the last drop cling stubbornly to the glass before giving up with a huff. "We're not even fucking home yet, and we're already out," he mutters. "What's the plan? Drink more when we get back?"

"Obviously," you say, leaning into his shoulder. "We've got enough booze to kill an entire marching band."

Felix throws his head back and laughs, the sound echoing into the empty streets. "Alright, operation 'drink until we don't remember shit' is a go."

The sight of the frat house looming ahead sends another wave of laughter through you both. By the time you reach the front steps, you're practically doubled over, clutching Felix's arm as you try to keep your balance. He's no better, leaning heavily on the railing with the bags of stolen snacks and booze swinging precariously from one hand.

The front door creaks open just as you're about to fall inside, the sound startling enough to cut your laughter short. Heavy footsteps echo from the stairs, and you both look up to see Chan and Changbin at the top landing, their faces an unholy mix of confusion and irritation.

Chan's hair sticks up like he's been electrocuted, and his hoodie is lopsided. Changbin leans against the railing, squinting at you like you're a cryptid that wandered into their territory.

"What the fuck are you two doing?" Chan asks, his voice hoarse from sleep. "It's almost five in the fucking morning."

Felix, unbothered, beams up at him like he's just spotted his long-lost soulmate. "Cahn," he says, waving a hand dramatically. "You wouldn't believe the night we've had. We almost got shot."

Your nod is enthusiastic, but your balance is shit, and you clutch at Felix's sleeve to keep from toppling over. "Yeah! Gun! Right in our fucking faces."

"A real one," Felix adds helpfully, his grin spreading wider. "With bullets."

"Pew pew bang bang!" you chime in, mimicking finger guns to drive the point home.

Felix, clearly inspired, joins in with his own finger guns. "Yeah, pew pew bang bang! Dude fired into the ceiling, real bullets and everything."

Chan's jaw drops. He looks from you to Felix and back again, his eyebrows knitting together in sheer disbelief. "I beg your fucking pardon?" he finally says, his voice rising an octave.

You wave your hands like you're trying to explain quantum physics to a toddler. "So, we were at the store, and this guy walks in with a gun, and-"

"And we started laughing," Felix interrupts, his tone as casual as if he's explaining what he had for breakfast.

Changbin throws up his hands, his voice thick with exasperation. "Why the fuck would you laugh?"

"Because it was hilarious," Felix says, slinging an arm around your shoulders like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

Chan's expression darkens, his voice low and deadly as he points a finger at you both. "I'm telling my mother."

Your gasp is immediate and full of melodrama. "Noooooo! Jess will lecture me for hours! I don't have parents! I'm supposed to be allowed to make dumb fucking decisions!"

Chan crosses his arms, his face blank but his tone sharp as a knife. "Tough shit. You're getting a lecture."

"I'll be good!" you plead, clasping your hands together like you're in front of a judge. "I swear, I'll be so fucking good."

Chan raises an eyebrow. "You've never been good a day in your life."

You let out a loud, mock-serious sigh. "It all started when my mom left me as a safe haven baby."

"Nice fucking try," Chan says. "That shit stopped working on me years ago"

Felix, still grinning, leans into you conspiratorially. "You're really playing the abandonment card?"

"It's my trump card," you say, throwing your hands in the air. "But apparently it doesn't work on Chan! What's the point of being parentally abandoned as an infant if I can't use it to get out of shit?"

Another voice slices through the quiet, low and laced with irritation. "It's five in the fucking morning. What the hell is going on down here?"

Everyone turns to see Minho standing at the top of the stairs, his red hair sticking up in every direction, a messy halo around his head like he's some pissed-off, sleep-deprived god of chaos. He leans heavily on the railing, his hoodie half-zipped and sliding off one shoulder.

His eyes narrow as he surveys the scene. the bags of snacks and booze, you half-drunk and clinging to Felix for balance, Chan and Changbin looking like disapproving parents. It's a tableau of absolute fucking nonsense.

Felix takes one look at Minho's dishevelled figure and immediately bursts out laughing, doubling over and clutching his stomach. "Oh god," he wheezes between giggles, his voice echoing down the hall. "It's all three dads. We're so fucked."

Minho raises an unimpressed eyebrow, his tone flat but deadly as he crosses his arms. "Alright, my dear children, tell Daddy Minho why you disturbed his very precious fucking rest before I drag you both into the front yard and bury you alive."

"We almost died!" you announce, pointing a dramatic finger in his direction like you're presenting damning evidence. "Gun! Right to the face!"

Minho doesn't flinch. His expression doesn't even flicker. "Yeah, okay. What did we tell you about going to the convenience store at stupid o'clock?"

Felix grimaces, scratching the back of his neck like a guilty kid caught sneaking snacks. "Uh... don't?"

"Exactly," Minho snaps, his voice sharp as a whip. He gestures vaguely toward the bags and the bottles in Felix's hands. "And yet, here we are. Grounded. Both of you."

"Nooooo!" you and Felix groan in perfect unison, your voices overlapping like two toddlers being told to go to bed early.

"Wait, wait, wait!" you blurt, holding up a finger like you've just had the best idea ever. "Vodka! We got vodka for free! The cashier gave it to us!"

Felix nods enthusiastically and hoists one of the bags up as proof. "Yeah, we've got vodka, tequila, energy drinks, snacks—everything you could ever fucking want. We're heroes, Minho."

Minho's eyes narrow further, but there's the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth. "Tequila?"

Felix gasps, looking genuinely insulted. "What do you take us for, fucking amateurs? Of course, we grabbed tequila."

For a moment, Minho stares down at you both, his silence heavy, his expression unreadable. Then his arms drop, and he lets out a low, resigned sigh before a sly grin creeps across his face. "No longer grounded," he declares, his voice light with amusement. "Let's get pissed."

"Minho!" Chan yells, his tone sharp enough to cut glass. He storms down the stairs, his face a mixture of exasperation and disbelief. "It's five in the fucking morning! They're already half-drunk! You're supposed to be the responsible one!"

Minho shrugs, stepping off the last stair with the calm, unshakable determination of a man who has long since stopped giving a fuck. "It's cocktail hour somewhere."

Felix throws his hands in the air like he's just scored the winning goal in overtime. "That's the fucking spirit! Come on, sweetheart," he says, grabbing your hand and dragging you toward the living room. "We've got three pseudo-dads, a liquor stash, and zero self-control. Let's make some fucking memories!"

Changbin, still leaning on the railing, shakes his head with a groan. "I'm not babysitting these drunk fucks," he mutters, gesturing vaguely toward you and Felix.

You, Felix, and Minho collapse onto the massive couch. Felix pulls you onto his lap without hesitation, his arms circling your waist in a loose, easy hold as you lean back against his chest. The bags of snacks and booze are scattered across the floor, casualties of your impromptu raid on the convenience store.

Minho lounges on the other side of the couch, unscrewing the cap of the tequila bottle with the kind of dramatic flourish that makes it clear he's ready to wreak havoc.

"Straight from the bottle," Minho declares, holding the tequila aloft like it's the fucking crown jewels. "Let's go, my child. Make Daddy proud."

You laugh, reaching for the bottle of vodka Felix just cracked open. "Honestly, Minho, you and Chan are the closest things I've ever had to father figures. You've been promoted."

Minho immediately slams his free hand over his chest, his face crumpling into a mask of mock emotion. "You are my child. I birthed you."

Felix chokes on his drink, shaking with laughter as his chin digs into your shoulder. "Birthed? Minho, what the actual fuck are you on about?"

"I did!" Minho insists, his voice rising in indignation as he takes a long swig from the tequila bottle. "Chan impregnated me, and I carried her for nine long, beautiful months. I sacrificed my body."

You nod solemnly, raising your vodka bottle in agreement. "That tracks. Explains the trauma."

Minho gives you a look of absolute reverence like you've just said something profound. "I will give you away at your wedding. You are my legacy. Always."

"Okay," Chan cuts in, his voice sharp and disbelieving as he hovers by the arm of the couch with his hands on his hips. "What the fuck is happening right now?"

Minho points at him with the tequila bottle, his expression stone-cold serious. "Our child is seeking validation, Christopher. As her other father, you should be supporting this."

"How many times have we had this conversation?" Chan demands, his tone flat but laced with exasperation. "You pull this shit every time you drink."

"Denial is a river in Egypt, my friend," Minho replies smoothly, taking another swig of tequila. "And it doesn't look good on you. Accept that you have a daughter."

"I mean, can I have, like, a trust fund or something? That'd be nice."

Chan's glare turns to you, his voice dripping with judgment. "I'm not giving you a trust fund. But, if we're doing this whole 'parent' thing, can we at least ban her from having boyfriends?"

Felix's arms tighten around your waist, his laughter cutting through the air as he jerks his head toward Chan. "Oi, what the fuck, Chan? You can't just ban her from dating!"

"Yeah, Chan," you add, your voice teasing as you twist in Felix's lap to face him. "What are you, the fucking dating police?"

Minho shakes his head, waving the tequila bottle in the air like a judge passing a decree. "It's fine. My daughter is a virgin anyway, right?"

You nod seriously, lifting your vodka bottle in toast. "Absolutely. Pure as snow. As virginal as Mary"

Felix lets out a snort so loud it's almost a honk, his lips pressed to your shoulder as he tries to suppress the full-on laugh threatening to escape. "Oh yeah," he says, his voice trembling with barely contained laughter. "Virgin. Totally. 100%."

Chan raises an eyebrow, his tone dry as a fucking desert. "Yeah, sure. Do you know how many times I've had to pick her up so she doesn't have to do the walk of shame?"

Minho gasps so dramatically you're surprised he doesn't pass out. "My baby! My sweet, innocent child! Grounded. For life."

"Still drinking vodka, though, right?" you ask, already taking another swig.

Minho waves a dismissive hand, sighing like a man resigned to his fate. "Yeah, fine. But get off that man's lap. Disgusting. My daughter will not date a man. It's unnatural. Foul."

Felix nearly spits out his drink, laughing so hard he doubles over, his face buried in the crook of your neck. You just raise an eyebrow at Minho, unimpressed. "You're gonna let me drink straight vodka at five in the fucking morning but not sit on my boyfriend's lap?"

"Correct," Minho says without hesitation. "I have standards."

Changbin, perched in the armchair across from the couch, has been quietly watching the entire exchange with wide-eyed amusement. Finally, he snorts, shaking his head. "You're all fucking insane."

Before anyone can respond, a loud, rapid thud thud thud comes from the stairs, and Jisung bounds into the living room like an overexcited puppy. His silver hair is a mess, his hoodie half hanging off one shoulder, and his eyes immediately lock onto the chaos on the floor.

"Ooh! You woke up Daddy One, Daddy Two, and Daddy Three. Naughty, naughty. Ooh, tequila! Vodka! Energy drinks! Gimme, Gimme, Gimme-"

Felix raises his vodka bottle like it's an offering to the gods. "A man after midnight!"

Jisung cackles, flopping onto the arm of the couch next to Minho and swiping the tequila. "So what's the occasion?"

"We almost got shot," Felix says casually, taking another swig of vodka.

"Cool, cool, cool," Jisung replies, nodding along. Then his eyes widen, his hand freezing mid-air. "Wait, WHAT?"

You and Felix burst into laughter so hard you're practically wheezing. Jisung stares at you both like you've grown a second head. "Shot? As in bang bang, bullet-in-the-head shot?"

"Yep," Felix says, popping the "p" as he grins at you. "Sweetheart and I were just chilling at the convenience store, and this guy walks in with a fucking gun."

"And we got the giggles," you add, waving your vodka bottle like it's a fucking magic wand.

Jisung turns to Chan, Changbin and Minho, his expression pleading for sanity. "Are they serious?"

Changbin pinches the bridge of his nose, muttering, "Oh, they're serious. They think almost dying is fucking hilarious."

"It was hilarious!" Felix insists, his grin widening. "The guy told us to get on the floor, and we just couldn't stop laughing."

"I hate both of you," Chan says flatly.

"And I love them," Minho announces, clinking his tequila bottle against your vodka. "Idiots, the lot of you, but you're my idiots."

Jisung, still processing, raises the tequila bottle. "Alright. To not dying, I guess."

"To not fucking dying!" Felix and you cheer, clinking bottles with him as the chaos spirals deeper into drunken absurdity.

Two hours later and the living room looks like a warzone. Empty bottles are scattered across the floor like casualties of a battle waged entirely with booze. Crushed chip bags and forgotten ramen cups lie abandoned among the chaos, the salty smell mingling with the faint tang of spilt tequila. 

You're sprawled on the couch with Jisung, the two of you draped over each other like a pair of drunk koalas clinging to the last branch of sanity.

Between you sits a half-empty bottle of vodka and a pot of ramen Chan reluctantly made because, as he so eloquently put it, "There's no fucking way I'm letting you absolute morons near a kettle."

Felix is next to you, his legs spread wide as he lounges back comfortably. He's working his way through a family-sized bag of Doritos with the lazy satisfaction of a man who knows he's witnessing peak entertainment.

Minho is perched precariously on the arm of the couch, swaying slightly as he holds a bottle of tequila. His hands gesture wildly as he launches into yet another drunken tirade, his words slurred but his enthusiasm unrelenting.

"You see," Minho begins, pointing dramatically between you and Felix, "Y/N is my child. Chan's child. Our love child. I birthed her myself. With pain. Like a hero."

You snort, nudging Jisung with your elbow. "See, Ji? I told you. Minho's my real dad."

Jisung clutches his chest with mock emotion, lifting the vodka bottle in a toast. "To Dad Minho, the strongest mother we know."

Minho beams like a drunk king accepting his coronation. "Exactly. And you, Jisung, you're the sad little bastard we found under a bridge and decided to keep out of the goodness of our hearts."

Jisung gasps, clutching at his hoodie dramatically. "You mean... I'm adopted?!"

"Of course you are," Minho replies, patting him on the head like a puppy. "But don't worry. We love you anyway"

Felix crunches loudly on a Dorito, raising an eyebrow at Minho. "Alright, then what the fuck does that make me?"

Minho's face twists into an exaggerated grimace, and he waves a dismissive hand in Felix's direction. "You? You're the boyfriend. The bad influence. We don't approve."

Felix gasps, pressing a hand to his heart like he's been mortally wounded. "Excuse me?! I am an amazing influence."

"Bullshit," Minho snaps, pointing an accusatory finger at him. "You're corrupting my firstborn."

Felix turns to you, his eyes wide and filled with mock sincerity. "Sweetheart, am I corrupting you?"

You shrug, slurping a mouthful of ramen before replying, "If by 'corrupting' you mean ingraining the word cunt into my vocabulary, then yes."

"Traitor," Felix mutters, stuffing another Dorito into his mouth as Minho grins triumphantly.

Across the room, Chan and Changbin sit squished together on the loveseat, sipping coffee like two parents forced to watch their kids self-destruct in real time.

"I love them," Changbin says after a moment, his voice soft but full of incredulity. "But their brains need studying. Like, properly. By professionals."

Chan groans, rubbing a hand down his face. "At this rate, I'm going to need a fucking PhD just to figure out what goes on in their heads."

Before either of them can say more, footsteps echo from the stairs, and the rest of the frat stumbles into view. Hyunjin, Seungmin, and Jeongin stop dead at the sight of the living room, their faces a mix of confusion and barely contained horror.

"What the fuck?" Hyunjin snaps, his long black hair falling into his face as he surveys the scene. "Why are you all awake at seven in the fucking morning?"

Chan points vaguely toward the couch, his voice flat. "Y/N and Felix almost got shot. Now they're doing... this." He waves his hand in a wide arc at the mess of people, booze, and crushed chips. "Minho decided to turn it into some Freudian family shit."

"Shot?" Jeongin asks, his eyes wide as he looks at you. "As in... bang bang, shot?"

"Yes!" you pipe up, raising your hand like a kid in class. "Gun! Bang bang! It was awesome."

"Jesus fucking Christ," Seungmin mutters, rubbing his temples. "What is wrong with you people?"

Minho, still perched like a drunk king on the arm of the couch, lights up at the sight of Jeongin. He spreads his arms wide, nearly toppling over as he grins. "Innie! My youngest! My pride and joy! Come here, baby boy."

Jeongin's face twists into a scowl, his voice flat. "I'm older than Y/N."

Minho waves him off. "Shush. You're my baby. Deal with it." He then swivels to Seungmin and points the tequila bottle at him. "And you, Seungminnie, you're the family dog."

Seungmin blinks, his face deadpan. "The what?"

Minho doesn't even pause. "And Hyunjin!" He turns his wild grin on the tall figure standing in the doorway. "Hyunjin is the obnoxious aunt. Definitely had plastic surgery but denies it."

"Excuse me?" Hyunjin's voice cracks. "What the fuck are you talking about?!"

"Just own it, darling," Minho says serenely, taking another swig of tequila. "Oh, and Hyunjin's married to Changbin."

Changbin nearly spits out his coffee, coughing. "What?!"

"You're married," Minho says, gesturing between them with the tequila bottle. "And you want to kill yourself because of it. Classic sitcom material." He claps his hands, grinning widely. "And that's our family!"

Chan groans, burying his face in his hands. "Why the fuck am I friends with any of you?"

"Because you love us," you chime in, poking your head up from Felix's shoulder with a grin.

"I fucking tolerate you," Chan fires back, glaring.

"That's basically love," Felix says, laughing as he pulls you closer into his lap. "Don't fight it."

Hyunjin throws his hands in the air. "I'm going back to bed. Good luck with... whatever this is."

"Coward!" Minho yells after him, raising his bottle like a battle cry.

Jeongin and Seungmin share a look of pure exhaustion before turning and trudging back toward the kitchen, muttering about the need for industrial-strength coffee. The door swings shut behind them, leaving the rest of you in the thick of the chaos.

"Still don't approve of you dating my firstborn," Minho mutters, pointing a finger at Felix.

"Still don't care," Felix replies with a grin, popping another Dorito into his mouth.

Minho groans dramatically, flopping back against the couch. "Why do my children hate me?"

"Because you're fucking insane," Changbin says dryly, his voice muffled by another sip of coffee.

"And yet," Minho says, raising his bottle for the umpteenth time, "you all love me."

"Unfortunately," Chan mutters, shaking his head. "Unfortunately, we do."

The clock ticks closer to 9 AM, and the booze has finally won the battle. The four of you are sprawled across the couch in varying stages of disarray. Minho's top is half off, Jisung's hoodie is somehow inside out, Felix's hair is sticking up at impossible angles, and you're pretty sure there's a chip stuck to your thigh. The room smells like tequila, vodka, ramen, and regret. A recipe for both a headache and a lecture from Chan later.

"Bed," Minho groans, dragging a hand down his face as he pushes himself off the couch. His steps are slow and heavy, like his body might give out at any second. "I'm fucking done with all of you."

"Noooo," Jisung whines, already crawling after him like a determined, overgrown toddler. "Your bed's huge, Minho! We're coming with you."

You and Felix exchange a glance and with zero hesitation, you stumble off the couch after them, your legs wobbly as Felix laces his fingers with yours and tugs you close. His hand is warm, steadying you as the four of you shuffle down the hallway like a drunken parade.

Minho's room, as expected, is pure chaos disguised as order. The space is spotless, the faint scent of cedarwood lingering in the air, but the bed is unnecessarily massive, a king-sized monstrosity with pristine white sheets and an unreasonable number of pillows. Jisung faceplants into it immediately, sprawling out like a starfish as Minho looms over him.

"Move, you little shit," Minho mutters, shoving Jisung's leg with his foot. "You're not hogging the whole fucking thing."

Jisung groans but shifts over just enough to make room for Minho, who flops down beside him with a dramatic sigh. You and Felix follow, collapsing onto the bed like marionettes with cut strings. Felix lands on his back, pulling you down beside him, his arm slipping around your waist as you curl into his side.

"Holy fuck," you mumble, pressing your face against Felix's chest. "This bed feels illegal. It's too soft."

"Minho's bed has diplomatic immunity," Felix replies, his voice laced with a teasing slur. He nuzzles into your hair, his breath warm against your scalp. "It's like sleeping on a goddamn cloud."

Minho grumbles something unintelligible, half-buried in a pillow. Jisung lets out a contented hum, his arm flopping lazily across Minho's stomach as his eyes flutter shut.

The room settles into a hazy quiet, the only sounds the occasional rustle of fabric and the soft rhythm of breathing. The morning light streams through the curtains, painting the room in a muted gold.

Jisung and Minho are the first to drift off, their bodies going slack as exhaustion finally wins. You're tucked snugly against Felix, your head rising and falling with the steady rhythm of his breathing.

"Sweetheart," Felix murmurs, his voice low and thick with exhaustion. "You awake?"

"Mmhm," you reply, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. His eyes are heavy-lidded, but there's a familiar warmth in them, his lips quirking into a lazy grin.

"Good," he whispers, his hand slipping up to cup your face, his thumb brushing softly against your cheek. "Because I've been wanting to do this all night."

Before you can ask what he means, he leans down, capturing your lips in a kiss that's as messy and uncoordinated as it is perfect. The taste of vodka lingers between you, sharp and heady, but you don't care. His lips are soft, warm, and slightly chapped, and his fingers tangle in your hair as he pulls you closer.

You kiss him back, your hands curling into the fabric of his shirt, anchoring yourself to him as the world narrows to just the two of you. The kiss is desperate and imperfect, all teeth and alcohol-fueled fervour, but it feels right. Time blurs as his lips move against yours, his thumb tracing slow, lazy circles against your waist.

The moment is broken by a sharp, muffled grumble from beside you. Suddenly, a pillow smashes into Felix's face with enough force to make him jerk back in surprise. You both turn to see Minho glaring at you, his expression a mix of grumpy and murderous as he wields another pillow like a weapon.

"Absolutely fucking not," Minho snaps, shoving Felix with one hand and using the other to wedge himself between you. "Not in my bed. I will not be subjected to this bullshit."

"Minho!" you protest, groaning as you roll onto your back. "We weren't even doing anything."

"Bullshit," he fires back, scowling as he claims the space between you and Felix like a petty landlord. "You can only have sex in my bed if I'm involved. House rules."

"Sweetheart," Felix says, his voice half-laugh, half-exasperation as he props himself up on his elbow. "Your pseudo-dad's cockblocking me."

You burst out laughing, turning away from Felix and burying your face in Jisung's chest to stifle the sound. Jisung stirs slightly, blinking up at you with a sleepy smile as he instinctively wraps his arms around you.

"Hey," he mumbles, his voice thick with drowsiness. "You comfy?"

"Comfy," you reply, snuggling closer to him. His chest is warm, his heartbeat a slow, steady rhythm against your cheek.

Felix, now fully displaced, groans as he flops onto his back on the other side of Minho. "Fine," he mutters, throwing an arm over his eyes. "Guess I'll just cuddle you instead, Minho."

"Don't fucking touch me," Minho snaps, though he doesn't push Felix away when the blonde drapes an arm across him with a shit-eating grin.

"You smell like tequila and bad decisions," Felix quips, his voice full of amusement.

"And you smell like vodka and desperation," Minho shoots back, though there's no real venom in his tone. "Perfect match."

Across the bed, Jisung hums softly, already half-asleep again, his arms tightening around you. The room falls into a peaceful quiet, the warmth of shared bodies and the morning sunlight creating a cocoon of comfort. Minho grumbles one last time about "fucking kids" before burying his face in a pillow and letting sleep take him.

Felix shifts slightly, resting his chin on Minho's shoulder as he murmurs, "Goodnight, sweetheart."

You smile, your eyes drifting closed as you reply softly, "Goodnight, Lix."

And finally, the chaos fades, replaced by the gentle cadence of steady breathing and the warmth of four idiots crammed into one bed. It's messy, unconventional, and absolutely fucking perfectly imperfect. 

[oneshotgremlin]

Fake Peppino Speech Headcanons (that nobody asked for):

Hc that Fake Peppino thinks "forwards", Pizzahead just messed up their brain to mouth connection during creation so they speak backwards:

(I find the ciphers some peeps use for Fake's speech very cool, one that comes to mind being atbash [where in a way he's speaking backwards, just alphabetically]. Personally tho I can't really see anyone naturally speaking in ciphers unless it's like Stanford Pines lmao)

Since only their speaking is backwards, they can reverse their speech forwards w/ effort or assistance:

(Their tone still goes forwards! Hence why they can still get across that they're questioning something even though the words itself are backwards)

Not all "assistance" is helpful, however:

(Did I really commit to a whole ass headcanon just for the sake of this dumb joke? Of course I did who do you take me for)

[sticks-stones-sonic-insanity]

IS??? IS THE WHITESPACE OST FOR SHADOW AN ORCHESTRAL REPRISE OF ALL HAIL SHADOW??? OR AM I INSANE

[astrogossipp]

mercury notes. 💅🏻

Disclaimer. these observations do not have to resonate with everyone and everything, all expressed in this post is based on personal experience and research.

masterlist🍡

mercury signs and their characteristics 🍭

🫧 aries mercury

You're blunt and direct because you deeply care about your loved ones and want what's best for them, even if it initially hurts. You're a reliable friend who values mental stimulation over constant chatter. You're quick-witted and passionate, often diving into new interests headfirst, even if you haven't mastered them yet. Challenges excite you, and you prefer things that make you think hard. You can get obsessed until you figure something out, and once you do, you stick with it. However, you might get competitive or jealous when others are better at something you're passionate about. Plus, all that thinking can give you headaches. But ultimately, your bluntness stems from a place of caring, and your loyalty and agility of mind make you a valuable friend.

🫧 taurus mercury

Your laidback nature stems from your focus on what truly matters to you. You're guarded because you've learned to prioritize your goals and rely only on yourself, leading to a preference for a small, trustworthy circle. While emotional, your rationality guides you to offer practical advice sought by many. When you love, you do so intensely, either fully invested or not at all, which can leave you drained in communication and occasionally introverted, causing concern among others. You're honest and direct, with an appreciation for the beauty of words, possibly drawn to poetry. In youth, you might have easily developed crushes and possess a melodious voice, possibly skilled in singing. With Taurus Mercury, your communication style is stable and methodical, marked by a reserved demeanor and a tendency to carefully analyze your thoughts and opinions. While you may appear stubborn, others view you as thoughtful and reliable due to your grounded approach to communication.

🫧 gemini mercury

With your mind always buzzing, you might need to work on organizing to avoid getting overwhelmed easily. You're a sponge for information, possibly even having some psychic intuition. Your ability to grasp concepts quickly lets you talk your way through things effortlessly, even if you haven't fully digested them. People trust whatever you say, even if it's random, thanks to your charm. Your hunger for knowledge keeps you everywhere, possibly juggling multiple social media accounts or interests, making you intriguing yet hard to pin down. From a young age, you displayed advanced intellect, impressing others with your wisdom beyond years. However, your thirst for new knowledge can lead to forgetting old ones, making exams a struggle unless you study hard. Despite this, you're generous and respectful, always open to communication, which earns you many acquaintances but perhaps few deep emotional bonds, leaving you somewhat detached. You're expressive, likely talking with your hands and body to drive your point home. With a Gemini Mercury, you're curious and talkative, overflowing with ideas and a penchant for witty, sarcastic communication. You enjoy delving into topics deeply and playfully, often expressing yourself through clever wordplay and puns.

🫧 cancer mercury

Cancer Mercuries are often misunderstood due to the crybaby stereotype, but they're much more than that. They have a knack for sensing emotions, especially in their loved ones, and their words carry a depth that reflects their own experiences and wounds. They have a remarkable memory for emotional moments, often recalling cringey or painful events vividly while forgetting trivial details easily. These folks lean towards introversion and need plenty of alone time to recharge, thriving best among their loved ones. Clear communication is crucial with them as they can sense insincerity. Despite their emotional nature, they keep their feelings guarded and may use self-deprecating humor to deflect. Once they trust you, though, they're fiercely loyal and offer comfort and support with their words. With a Cancer Mercury, communication is deeply compassionate and intuitive, rooted in empathy and a desire to nurture and support others. They express themselves poetically and creatively, understanding others' pain and offering unwavering support.

🫧 leo mercury

Individuals with Leo Mercury express their love and affection through communication, showing warmth and making others feel like instant best friends. They can get obsessive about their interests and crushes, giving them intense focus. In learning environments, they need joy and fun to stay engaged. They value actions over words, so if you claim to love them, you better show it. Their charming communication style attracts attention, but they must be mindful of what they say as people tend to magnify their words. They're prone to checking up on loved ones frequently, regardless of how much time has passed, as attention is their love language. However, a downside is their reluctance to consider others' viewpoints, often believing they're always right. With Leo Mercury, communication is energetic, confident, and direct, with a charismatic and engaging flair. They enjoy being the center of attention and aren't afraid to assert themselves, making them natural leaders in communication.

🫧 virgo mercury

Virgo Mercuries are like the champions of communication, always making sure their words are well put together and hard to argue against, reminiscent of those kids who constantly won spelling bees. They're high achievers from a young age, constantly seeking logic and truth in everything, which can lead them to get lost in details and feel overwhelmed. Even in chaos, they handle things maturely with logic, earning them the reputation of wise advisors. However, their attention to detail can lead to overthinking, as they scrutinize even the smallest actions and texts, making it hard to deceive them. Suspicious by nature, they'll do thorough research, even stalking if needed, to uncover the truth. They should trust themselves more and boost their self-confidence to overcome intrusive thoughts. With a Virgo Mercury, communication is analytical and critical, driven by a desire for perfection and precision. They analyze everything before speaking, taking a methodical and logical approach that can sometimes lead to overthinking. Patience and self-discipline are key for them to manage their overactive minds effectively.

🫧 libra mercury

Libra Mercuries thrive on peace and harmony in their daily lives, feeling unsettled when things are out of order. While they're adept at seeing both sides of a story, they can get lost in trying to maintain balance. However, they've learned it's okay to embrace chaos occasionally, especially since they easily get bored. Despite their indecisive nature, they possess objective intelligence, making them skilled at solving problems from different perspectives, which suits careers in law or similar fields. Yet, their desire for justice can lead to complicated situations due to their reluctance to choose sides. This indecision may strain friendships, although they can also be seen as loyal and reliable if positively manifested. They have a thirst for knowledge and are drawn to what stimulates their minds, enjoying romance books or shows and even finding amusement in chaotic situations, despite not being naturally chaotic themselves. A positively manifested Libra Mercury is a great friend to have, always supportive and having your back. In communication, they're charming and balanced, adept at friendly and diplomatic interactions. They enjoy engaging with others, keeping conversations light and positive, and prefer to avoid confrontation or conflict, prioritizing harmony and balance in their relationships.

🫧 scorpio mercury

Scorpio Mercuries are enigmatic and hard to decipher. They're private and move in silence, carefully displaying only what they want others to see to avoid suspicion. With high emotional intelligence and intense intuition, they can easily fall into destructive thought patterns, including intrusive or sexual thoughts, and fear being exposed. Despite their suspicion of others' intentions, they strive to maintain a high vibrational image. In love, they're fiercely loyal and keep secrets close, but they can be ruthless if wronged. They delve deeply into thoughts, even overanalyzing simple problems and pondering existential questions. Their intuition often reveals truths they'd rather not know, making hiding things from them futile. Obsessed with what stimulates them, they can become stubborn and refuse to let go of harmful things. They find meaning in everything, holding onto items or information they believe will be useful. While loyal, they keep themselves guarded, trusting only themselves. Others may find them intimidating or blunt, and they enjoy playing with power due to their ability to easily gain trust. A Scorpio Mercury communicates sensitively and perceptively, reading into hidden meanings and subtext. They tend to keep their thoughts and feelings to themselves, balancing expression with restraint. They possess strong intuition and mental energy but may struggle with overthinking.

🫧 sagittarius mercury

Individuals with Sagittarius Mercury are warm and nonjudgmental, making others feel at home and giving them the best time of their lives. They're open-minded and objective, often surprising people with their vast knowledge and random facts, although they may feel insecure about their intelligence. They tend to see the best in everyone and can easily be taken advantage of due to their desire to do the right thing. They're great listeners and offer wise, unbiased advice, drawing people to them for venting sessions. Growing up, they were likely interested in solving larger problems, but they can get stressed easily and lost in knowledge and details. They're open to new experiences and friends but are put off by judgmental or arrogant people. They have a playful sense of humor and enjoy sharing random facts with friends, but they don't like being told what to do and can be unreliable if they're not truly interested in something. Their attention span is short, making it difficult to focus, and meditation may be challenging due to their constantly active minds. With Sagittarius Mercury, communication is playful and positive, marked by quick wit, humor, and a talent for uplifting conversations. They bring a bright and lively energy to any interaction, making people laugh and bringing joy to any situation.

🫧 capricorn mercury

Capricorn Mercuries are reserved and only share what's necessary, commanding respect with their directness, which can sometimes be mistaken for rudeness. They avoid drama and focus on their own pursuits, maintaining a private and reserved demeanor. Their knowledge comes from life experiences and karma, often shaped by past struggles and moments of loneliness. While typically kind, they have clear boundaries and won't hesitate to assert themselves when pushed too far. They're calculated and loyal, often taking on a protective role, especially with siblings. With a mature outlook on life, they exude old soul vibes and may seem like natural teachers. They excel at planning and methodical tasks, dedicating themselves fully to their responsibilities. Despite being social, they prioritize duty and future success over socializing, often retreating to recharge. They value trustworthiness and responsibility in others but have little tolerance for foolishness. Communication for Capricorn Mercuries is pragmatic and logical, characterized by a clear and ordered approach. They prefer speaking with precision and clarity, often overthinking decisions and striving for perfection.

🫧 aquarius mercury

Aquarius Mercuries possess vivid imaginations and creative minds, often thinking far ahead but struggling with simple concepts. They may excel in unconventional roles while finding day-to-day tasks boring and easily becoming distracted. Despite being social, they struggle to open up and may feel neglected or misunderstood for their ideas. Their innovative nature draws admiration, but they may attract copycats without calling them out due to their kind demeanor. They have a random but fun sense of humor, often sending memes or random comfort items. Their accepting nature and detachment make them intriguing to others, who are drawn to their unique perspective and lack of judgment. They may be interested in the occult or unconventional topics. Getting to know them is a hit or miss, as they either click with someone completely or don't connect at all. Communication for Aquarius Mercuries is unique and inventive, characterized by creative and original thinking, often outside the box. They may get lost in their thoughts and should strive for more grounded and effective communication.

🫧 pisces mercury

Pisces Mercuries possess vast knowledge and ideas but may struggle with insecurity and seek validation. They have an old, wise soul, often knowing things intuitively and feeling deeply. They are sacrificial and generous, prone to being taken advantage of due to their kindness. In love, they may overlook red flags and defend their passions fervently. Drawn to beauty and gentleness, they have a creative sense of humor and may struggle with mundane tasks. Their relationships with siblings can be complex, ranging from intuitive understanding to manipulation. When expressing their darker side, they can be manipulative or prone to self-deception. Words of affirmation are important to them, as they have a vivid imagination but are often misunderstood. Pisces Mercuries approach communication intuitively and emotionally, valuing creativity and empathy but sometimes struggling with logic and detail.

this post was created by @astrogossipp on tumblr <3 if reposting my work please give credits.

pics by @vmstv

[alnilaem]

a more fleshed-out version from the third prompt of this post of mine.

cw for emotional manipulation, breaking in, stalking, smut, babytrapping, and dubcon to be safe

simon riley/reader

-

Something is wrong. 

Your suitcase is halfway past the threshold of your front door, halfway past your new grave, when you notice the hum of salt and tobacco in the air. Discomfort licks your insides and binds to your skin so heavily that you begin to sweat. A tinny sound peals out as you rearrange your keys between your knuckles, clenching it, and step inside your flat. 

Your heels are at the foot of your shoe rack. Your coat isn’t where it’s supposed to be, crimped in a pool on the floor. Your framed photographs are all inched to the left—you know this because you committed their placement to your memory—because you feared this would happen.

Something is seriously, gravely wrong. 

You feel like you’re lost at sea. Dull-headed and impaired under the alluring melody of a blood-thirsty siren. Walking towards their call, your legs moving before your mind can, spit in the presentiment of fear the same way insects get caught in spiderwebs. Stuck, and about to be eaten.  

You trek further into your flat, following the telltale signs that someone has been here—is here. A general shift in air. The stench of stale herbs and metal. A trail of silt on your hardwood floors, that of which could only be caused by certain mud-clogged boots tracking into your flat.

Here, you pause. On the threshold of your kitchen. Your stomach turns inside out and if it weren’t for your ribs, your heart would have burst out of your chest. 

It’s like you’re walking on glass. Every thin sliver that pokes your skin, invading you, is a splinter of fear. And it also makes it so that you can’t walk away—you’re frozen in place, watching him above your stove, setting a kettle to boil. 

He hears your squeak. Simon turns around, cotton-plated in his civvies, and hums. 

“Welcome home, Love.” 

The moisture leaves your mouth and rushes to your eyes. A film of dew materialises on top of your waterline. It’s thick and pearlescent and clouds your vision, turns Simon into an incorporeal blob in your vision, turning him into a trick of your eyes that you hope will go away after you blink.

He doesn’t.

Instead, Simon rests himself against your kitchen counter. He crosses his tattooed arms over his chest, tilting his head, and bends his lips into an unseemly smile.

“How was your friend’s place?”

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Simon?” You try getting your anger across, but your voice betrays your emotions. It’s heavily distorted by fear, waning, so much so that it makes him blandly chuckle. Like he can smell the terror roiling off of you. Like he feeds from it.

“How did you get in?”

Simon shrugs. “I’ve got a copy of the key.” 

“I changed the damn locks.”

“I got new ones,” he says.

“We broke up.”

“You broke up with me,” Simon snarls. “When I was at my fuckin’ lowest. You broke up with me and I didn’t agree to tha’ shit.”

“Simon–” a gust of disbelief cuts your sentence short. You grip your hair at its roots, tugging it, twisting it, coiling your face in frustration. “Simon, you need to leave.”

“You’re talkin’ like that ‘cause you’re mad at me. Give it a few minutes, and you won’t be.”

“Are you fucking insane!?” You yell. You draw towards him and slam the kettle off the stove. “You broke into my flat!”

“I had a key,” Simon says. He steps towards you, bullying you backwards until the hind of your spine catches on the cold granite of your countertop. Until your back bends over it, Simon, looming over you. “I’ve always told you to use the deadbolt.”

You bite your lip. The blood sticking to the roof of your mouth isn’t as bitter as Simon’s eyes. His are cold, depthless. 

“Fuck off.”

Then, Simon flips. His expression shifts in a whirlwind of seconds. Now, his brunette eyebrows are pursed and his lips are pointed down. His head is ensconced on your neck, his shoulder suddenly laden with an invisible weight as he kittens into you.

“Just came ‘cause I wanted to talk…” he mumbles. “One a’ my men died on me yesterday. Got early R&R for it. Thought you’d be happy to see me...”

You’re motionless as Simon clemently begins kissing your neck. You split your hands on his chest and try shoving him away, but he doesn’t move. He’s as solid as rock. Pushing himself into you, grovelling into your sleek skin. 

A phantom chain is tightening around your throat. You don’t know what to say. You don’t know what you can say. You feel that with any words that poise themselves on your tongue, Simon won’t take kindly to. 

“Simon… I’m sorry for you. I really am,” you slip out from under him and step back. “But this isn’t the way to go about it. We’re adults. And I’m asking you to leave.”

Simon raises his head, lukewarm. He stares at you through his half-lidded eyes, breathing heavily, clenching his fist around the lip of your countertop. Thickly, you swallow. You fidget with your cardigan and hope it will offset the discomfort hanging in the air. Simon takes a deep breath, sucking it all up—the discomfort, the presentiment—and you expect his huffing to precede an explosive reaction, but it doesn’t come. He just slips himself off the island and turns around, quiet when he speaks.

“Yeah,” he hums. “My old man didn’t want anythin’ to do with me, so why should you?” 

Your eyes widen. Though you’ve spent so much time trying to bury it, trying to familiarise yourself with Simon’s sick gambits, a pang of guilt hits you hard.

“Don’t say things like that,” you point an accusing finger to his chest, “it isn’t fair.” 

“No, no,” he grumbles. “Makes sense, does’n’it? My old man walked out on me, so I should handle you walking out on me, too.”

Simon shudders with a long breath. He slaps his face into his hands, and it’s at this point, does your knee-jerk impulse to comfort him take hold of you. The last of your even-tempered brain screams at you—he’s trying to ply you with a humanised side of him, but that side died a long time ago—but you press forward and awkwardly bring him into your arms, patting him on the back. 

“Simon, I’m… sorry, okay?” He buries his head in your neck, nips at your skin. “I’m sorry.”

“Can’t you jus’ yell at me tomorrow?” He asks. Simon slips his hands into the depression of your waist, pulling you against his chest. Against the ever-rising tent of his jeans. 

Your mind protests, but Simon keeps you close. He stinks of sweat, impairing you with it, spinning you around and pushing you against the counter. 

“Simon–”

“Shhh,” he hums, catching his fingers on the hem of your leggings. “Y’said we can talk later. ’m tired, Love. Just need you right now.” 

Any protests rot on your tongue because the wind is knocked out of you as you’re folded over the counter. Simon’s hands travel, gripping every part of you, rekindling old bruises left behind and making space for new ones. 

He ruts into you, cock fattening in his boxers and stressing against his jeans. He slides a hand over the divots of your spine and bends it around your neck, hoisting your head back, huffing into your ear. 

“You’ve no idea how much I missed y’Love,” Simon’s humping you now. Rutting himself against your ass with unrestrained vigour. He bites the husk of your ear, flattens you against the counter, and sinks a hand below your waistband. He spreads your pussy open like the shell of a fruit, pushing his thick fingers into its flesh, knuckle-deep and kneading you. 

“How’s here?” He grumbles. You whine, and he twists himself deeper. “What about there?” 

Your mind and body wrestle between pushing him away and yielding under his touch. Simon fucks his fingers a little deeper, a little meaner, into you, and chuckles when you squeal. 

He rests his chin on your shoulder, and you see a sliver of bared teeth as his lips hitch up into a gnarled smile. “Ah, so that’s the spot, innit?”

You’re dew-skinned and fuzzy when Simon throws you over his shoulder, carrying you to your bedroom. Your tongue is heavy and numb and bootless against any objections as he throws you on the mattress, standing balefully at the foot of the bed. 

If you were a child, you’d hide under your sheets until he disappeared. But you’re not a child, and Simon doesn’t disappear. He sinks his knees into your bed and swipes his shirt off over his head, unbuckling his belt in one slick motion. 

He unzips his jeans and doesn’t even pull his balls out, just cups the gauze of his boxers beneath it and leans onto his hands.

A pearlescent bead of precum slips down the slit of Simon’s dick and drools onto your comforter. He wraps his hand around it, slips his palm up and down, tugging down your pants.

Your legs kick into a paltry complaint, but Simon pins your legs down. 

“No reason in fighting,” he says, rubbing his cockhead against your clit, “You’re so wet, Love.”

Simon nudges your panties to the side and thumbs your clit. Leans in for a biting kiss and swallows your moans, slapping his fat cock against your puffy, wet cunt. 

“Missed me just as bad, eh?” He huffs, setting his dick against your winking hole, pushing past your first ring of muscle and rolling at the sticky sound of your cunt spreading open.

“Simon–” you hic, latching onto his forearms. Trying to offset his bruising grip on your hips as he falls into a steady, deep rhythm. “At least wear a condom.”

He’s so thick, so heavy between your legs. Hoisting you onto his thighs and leaning over you, snapping his cock into you. He screws his face tight, pellets of sweat running down his marred collarbone. Congealing into the spindly, blonde threads of hair on his chest. Down to the wire of steel wool that thickens on his pelvis, pinching your clit each time he slams into you.

“You’re stayin’ with me, Pup,” he pants, kissing a stripe up your neck, suckling on your pebbled nipple. “Gonna gimme a litter, ain’t you? Just like we talked about?”

A little, lone tear slips down your hot cheek. Simon leans in and licks it off. He stuffs himself to the hilt, shuddering with abrupt pleasure as he skips to his feet and folds you in half, pounding into you, biting down on your shoulder.

It hits you like whiplash when Simon pushes himself so deep that you feel him swelling under your skin. He gives you no warning before emptying his balls inside you, flooding you with a white-hot come, clutching your jaw into a wet, messy kiss.

You’re blinded and eclipsed by pain as your orgasm shoots through you. The pleasure is numbing and makes you quiver, tremble, until you’re gushing around Simon’s cock and swivelling your hips to get away.

You’re shaking when he pulls back, giving your pussy no time to soften. Simon gives it a swat and flays himself off of you, heading to the bathroom. You hear the cellophane of your birth control peeling open, and the successive thunk as Simon tosses it into the bin. 

You try getting up but Simon flattens you back as he crawls in bed next to you. There’s a hand of his on your waist, seemingly benign, but tightens itself each time you try slipping away. Your sniffles are piercing and Simon pulls you close. Brushes your tears away, kisses your eyelids. 

“You’re not gonna leave me now, eh? You can’t,” he whispers, “you’re all I’ve got. You and our baby. You can’t leave me now.”

A pitiful cry escapes you. Simon takes that as agreement.

[feralgirlfeelings]

★ what kind of music each love & deepspace boy would listen to! ★

hcs of zayne, rafayel, and xavier's music taste ♫꒰･◡･๑꒱

pairing: lnds boys x reader

warnings: none

zayne:

he listens to classical music 90% of the time. it's not because he particularly likes it, but he just got used it after listening to classical music to focus while studying 12 hours a day as a med student. now, in pavlovian fashion, he'll play it while performing surgeries to really get him in the zone. the other 10% is, surprisingly, cutesy kpop girl group songs. think "russian roulette" by red velvet, "magnetic" by illit, and "only" by leehi. he doesn't go out of his way to find these songs, but he'll hear them in passing and get one stuck in his head. he's one of those people that'll get hooked and listen to a song over and over again, especially while he's working out or when he needs an energy boost. he's embarrassed about it, so he'll try to hide it from you, only listening to music with his earbuds in. but there's been times where you catch him:

"zayne, i didn't know you were into red velvet," you stifle a giggle. you hold his phone up to him, the song "russian roulette" on the lock screen. he crosses his arms, ears turning pink, "what's so funny about that? ...it's catchy." "nothing! i just didn't expect that from you," you laugh. you hand him his phone back, "i can teach you the dance, i know it by heart," you tease. "hmm," he raises an eyebrow, an amused look on his face. "i'd like to see that."

xavier:

he likes a few different genres of music, but he tends to like classic rock and alternative the most. some of his favourite songs are "little dark age" by mgmt, "eyes without a face" by billy idol, and "let it happen" by tame impala. he doesn't like to explore new music often and will usually just stick to what he already likes. he'll often blast music through his through his earbuds when he's fighting wanderers alone or when he's trying to stay awake. he's had a lot of time on earth, so his taste spans a lot of different music eras. there's been a few times when he's complained about how he "just doesn't get music nowadays." sometimes he'll show you a super old song and be surprised that you've never heard of it before:

xavier hands you an earbud, the other one in his ear. he shows you a song on his phone that you don't recognize. after a few seconds of listening, you shake your head, "i don't know this one." "really?" xavier looks at you shocked. "this song was huge in the 80s." you hand him back his earbud, "see that's why i don't know it, i'm not 40," you tease. "they just don't make music like this anymore," he sighs. you laugh, "xavier, that makes you sounds so old!' he smiles back at you, "i think those songs are just timeless."

rafayel:

he's into artsy stuff. he's one of those people who listens to a song or album multiples times to dissect and analyze every part of it, appreciating it as an art form. some of his favourite songs include "my love mine all mine" and "washing machine heart" by mitski, as well as "movement" by hozier. he plays music while working on paintings, because apparently, "listening to complex music helps with the artistic process." he also experiences sound-to-colour synesthesia, which explains why the music helps him paint. he has a really pretty singing voice and will often hum or sing his favourite songs, but will get shy when you ask him to sing for you. despite his usual pretentious music taste, he'll occasionally get hooked on some generic top 40s song, like something by drake.

rafayel had been humming the same song over and over again while working on a painting of you. you couldn't help but close your eyes and focus on the melody, "what song is that?" you ask. he pauses from humming, his concentration on his painting unwavering, "my love mine all mine by mitski." "it's nice, i've never heard of it before," you reply. "i'm not surprised, i have spectacular taste, you know," he boasts. you stare at him blankly, "wasn't your top song last year passionfruit?" holding back a laugh. his ears and cheeks turn bright red, "those are never accurate anyways."

[bedoballoons]

Is your requests still open i just got back on and stuff and i kinda forgot your username did you change it i feel like my memory is getting worser everyday🫠aside from that if you are still doing requests can i maybe request like a reader that has animals following them around because of the calming presence they have around them that they use to comfort the characters at times maybe with a dendro or cryo vision (tighnari, wanderer,lyney,xiao,nuevelle bro what is this mans name and maybe cyno for the last) oh and they are a healer

It did change! My older username was much longer and a randomly generated one so I decided to go with something more personal! Also so happy to see you again! Sorry this took forever to write, but I hope you enjoy!

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ🍂𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ🍂

{༻~Calm like a soft breeze~༺}

CW: Super sweet and fluffy!

(Includes: Lyney, Tighnari, Xiao, Wanderer, and Neuvillette!)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Lyney:

"Oh my" Lyney gasped as he caught sight of the fish in the ocean, the lot of them swirling at the bottom of your feet while you searched for shells against the setting sun...the crabs had even started to follow you. You just had that affect on everything, anything that could see your sweet smile...feel the calm collected words that left your lips...they'd be entranced. He himself often got himself watching you with lovestruck eyes, hoping to catch glimpses of just what made you a walking safe place.

"Mon amour, you're one of the most beautiful mysteries of this world, I hope you realize just how many times you leave me in awe..."

"L-lyney...I'm just collecting shel-"

"I know and yet you've even caught the attention of the sea itself...incredible. Absolutely incredible."

𑁍༄Tighnari:

Tighnaris tail swayed slightly as he watched you, he couldn't help but be amazed...more animals gathering around to watch along with him as you intertwined small sticks into a crown. Your soft presence drawing him and every other living thing closer so they could see the culprit behind their newfound peace of mind. He had no clue how you managed to turn even his most stressed days into easy evenings. You truly had to be magical, and not like using a vision type of magic. A magic entirely your own, a spell you cast on anyone who met you.

"You're pretty incredible. I thought today was going terribly and then you turned it around like it had never been bad to begin with...how do you do it?"

"I just go with the flow and comfort you all the ways I can, you're the incredible one and I want to help you feel that way."

"There's no doubt you do."

𑁍༄Xiao:

Xiao sighed, watching as more birds gathered around you...your being radiating a calming aura that even had him feeling like he could lull off into a sweet sleep. "How do you always manage to draw the attention of the birds? You're just humming and yet it feels like you slow the world down so all can feel at peace...even me with my Karmic debt. How?"

"I'm not sure, I just humm the melody in my heart and hope that the birds and you enjoy it. As for being calming...I guess I find it easier to comfort people when I'm like this. Does this help?"

"Yes...I appreciate it. I might actually rest for awhile...if that's alright."

"Of course it is. Rest as long as you can my dear, you deserve it."

𑁍༄Wanderer:

Wanderer set his hat beside you, laying his head on your lap so he could look up at you while more animals gathered around the both of you. Normally so much attention from the wildlife would leave him annoyed...but you calmed his angry soul so easily. Reading aloud to the creatures of the forest and him while the clouds slowly swayed in the sky...you just left everything feeling safe and cozy.

"I don't know how you do it...but thanks I guess, for making me feel better. Even if you didn't really do anything but read. It helps.."

"If reading to you is what helps then consider it my pleasure."

"...you, are what helps."

𑁍༄Neuvillette:

Neuvillette opened the window slightly, allowing the many birds that had been sitting on the sill of it to get a better look at the source of the most wonderful lullaby they'd ever heard. Your voice was like the calming waves of a ocean, the perfect sound washing over him and wrapping him in a comforting warmth he'd needed so badly after his long day at work. He could listen to you for hours and never find your voice dull.

"You're a work of art my dear."

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ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚~Have a nice day~*⁠.⁠✧

[prettyrealm]

what do people like most about you?

pick a card #1: what most people in your life - friends, family, coworkers, etc. - like about you ♡

how to participate:

♡ think to yourself “what do people like about me?”

♡ pick the my melody plush that you feel most drawn to.

clear your mind & take as long as you need to choose. keep in mind that you may feel drawn to & choose more than one. you also may not feel drawn to any of them, so don’t force it! these readings will be honest. the piles are in order from left to right.

pile 1 ♡

they like that you’re strong and know how to handle things on your own. they like that you’re courageous, confident & don’t let people walk all over you. they like that you’re protective of yourself and the ones you care about. they like that you’re able to compromise & get along with or work with people you don’t like. they like that you don’t let circumstances get in the way of your end goal (like you may have had a harsh upbringing or even may be going through a rough patch right now, but you don’t use that as an excuse and you handle business regardless), they like that you’re a loyal friend or just a good ally to have in general. they like your ideas and the different view points that you bring to the table. they like that you’re generous and unselfish when it comes to knowledge, but also material objects.

pile 2 ♡

people like that when they’re around you, you feel like a bestfriend (you might be the type or person people want to hang out with all the time), they like that you seem to be the ride or die type that you’re flexible enough that you’re someone they can get crazy with, but also have a lazy day and just relax with. they like that you’re a comforting presence to be around and a good source of emotional support (you’re probably good at distracting people from their problems), they like you work on yourself a lot and put in the effort to be your best, they like that you’re fair and have good judgement, they like that you’re willing to sacrifice for others or will take the short end of the stick to make everyone else happy. they also may like that you aren’t hard to look at (attractive)

pile 3 ♡

they like that you’re loving (you may have a mom vibe or just make people feel like family), they love your kindness and your love for your loved ones in general - it’s clear that you value family a lot, they like your happy and carefree demeanor, they like that you plan things well and have good timing, they like that you cherish good times and creating good memories, they like that you seem to remember things well (this could be good memory in general, but i see this as you remembering small facts about people and impressing/shocking them when you casually bring it up later), they like that you genuinely care about societal issues and aren’t afraid to speak up about it, they like your creativity & that you’re good at saving/making money.

pile 4 ♡

they like that you’re always on the go and ready for an adventure, they like that you like to indulge in life (maybe you’re a foodie or you like to go out a lot, i see vacations, bars & good food), they like that you like to share & you’re unselfish when it comes to sharing your lifestyle with others (you could be the type to take people out to eat a lot or show them about a cool place they didn’t know about), they like that you don’t let things or people disrupt your plans, they like that you’re a good gift giver, they like that you’re responsible enough in a sense that you don’t play victim and take accountability for your actions, they like that you can take care of yourself & they like that you’re romantic and value that sort of connection.

pile 5 ♡

people like that you seem to have a lot of pride & self respect, they like that you’re discerning with a strong moral code, they like that you’re confident, they like that you have a sharp tongue and come up with slick remarks or are good at throwing shade, they may find you funny and think you tell good jokes or you’re good at making fun of people in a playful way, they like that you don’t let setbacks hinder you (even if you’re upset, you power through it), they like that you care about women (or maybe women just feel comfortable around you in general), they like that you’re romantic, they like that you’re unpredictable and do what you want/follow your heart.

pile 6 ♡

they like that you’re good hearted and laugh a lot, they like they you’re smart and good at working out details/solving problems, they think that you give good advice (people may want you to steer them in the right direction or give them instruction on how to do things), they like that you can be a source of hope and confidence, they like that you’re able to stay optimistic and that you’ve succeeded in overcoming something very bad (congratulations!), they like that you think differently than others and may see you as innovative, they like your connection with animals and love for nature or care for the environment, they like that you refuse to sacrifice your integrity & they like that you have a variety of different interests.

pile 7 ♡

people like that you’re smart & intuitive (it’s like you just seem to “know” things), they like that you aren’t afraid to be yourself and walk your own path, the people around you might think that you’re in a transitional phase right now, and they like that you’ve learned a lot about life (it’s as if you’ve become more wise and have learned to give up things that don’t matter to focus on what’s really important), they like that you don’t care about what other people think and are willing to take one for the team or get treated like a black sheep/out cast in favor of what you believe in, they like that you’re curious and do your research & they like how spiritual you are.

pile 8 ♡

people like that you can be a bit ruthless and controversial (maybe you cuss a lot) they see this as real and uncensored (like what you see is what you get), they like how much you care about connection and having a partner to build a future with (they probably see you as loyal and devoted in this sense, and not afraid to go after a lover), they like that you’re patient and know how to think before you act (you aren’t impulsive), they like that you’re a hard worker and are good at what you do (well versed in your craft whatever that may be), they like that you’re humble and genuinely care about others well being & that you can think outside of yourself.

pile 9 ♡

people like that you can be a source of motivation, they like that you’re self-made and may even see you as a good rolemodel! people find you charismatic (and maybe even a bit dreamy), people like that you care for others a lot and admire that you will always share the things you’ve earned with others (they feel as if you really give and love unconditionally), they like that you always have good news or some type of gift you’ve earned as a result of your hard work (whether it be a raise or you some how coming across money/success/greater opportunities), they like that you seem trusting and aren’t too skeptical of others (you let people in easily) and that you’re very forgiving, they like that you’ve completely devoted yourself to something, they like that you’re easy to get in contact with and are always ready to help & they like that you’re nurturing.

[heliads]

HEY HEY HEY!! can u make a the darkling x reader soulmate au?? one where reader is a powerful grisha and has lived nearly as long as he has? they walked the earth and met each other a few times, not knowing they were the same people. sometimes, a romance almost happened, but because they knew they would outlive them, it never happened. How about aleks meets reader by chance in a village near fjerda and they recognize each other for the first time and realize they are each other's soulmate? ♡ U!!

HEY HEY HEY!! your au is that your scars stay on your soulmate's skin.

masterlist

You would think that the centuries would go by faster once you’d experienced enough of them. When you grow up, it’s like the years pass with greater and greater speed, but there must be a leveling point to that mad exponential curve, because you reached it a long time ago. The decades don’t fly by anymore, they drag like the heels of your boots in the soft mud connecting the Wandering Isle to Novyi Zem.

That particular sinking earth is gone, much like most of the places from your memory. The land bridge between the two nations, which was already tentative at best back when you were born, has long been pulled under the current of the True Sea. Now, the recollections of old work boots falling into dirt have just as much hold as the place itself. Everything you knew is gone, constantly replaced by newer, flashier people and cities.

It haunts you sometimes, more often than not. You lie awake at night with a melody stuck in your head, one you haven’t heard in over two hundred years. There’s no chance that anyone remembers it except you, so you hum it to yourself, wondering if the ghosts of friends past can hear you or if they, too, are just ash and dust by now. Supposedly, they would have been folded into the welcoming arms of the Making at the Heart of the World, but you still harbor a hope that they’re still looking out for you.

Hope is all you have. As if it doesn’t mess with your head to trust your footsteps through a Ravkan town you’d lived in for decades, only to find that it’s doubled in size and population since you were last there. Or, when you finally remember that you owe a neighbor a favor, only to recall that their great-great grandchildren died out a century past. Nothing in this world is yours, not in the way that it was at the start. You can keep reinventing yourself, but it’ll never make anything stick.

All that musing over places long gone, and you still can’t convince the hours of the clock to turn by any faster. You’d like nothing more than for the years to skip by, to finally bring about your end of days or at least a change in them, because if you have more centuries under your belt, it’ll mean you’ll have searched all of the lands as many times as you can, and maybe then, you just might be able to meet your soulmate.

That, of all things, might calm your restless spirit. If it were not enough to have far more centuries in which to live out your life than the rest of the Grisha, you have to do it alone, too, knowing that most everyone you pass has someone out there built for them, someone to keep them company in a way you will never understand, no matter how many generations you live.

You often wonder if your soulmate might be out there somewhere. It’s an easy matter to spiral over. They could have been alive at the very start of your life, and died centuries before you could even meet them. Maybe there were only a few days in which your lives overlapped, or maybe you were born on the exact same day and never knew it until they died and you stayed, relentlessly, alive.

Or, worst of all, they could still be out there now, forever condemned to orbit the land at the other side of you, forever crossing paths but never meeting, always one step behind or hours ahead of schedule. There is, hypothetically, a way of telling if the person before you is your soulmate, but it only works if you have the fellow in front of you and the certainty only mad love can bring you.

In this world, in a world full of pain and pleasure, power and pride, the only way that you know for certain that you are connected with your soulmate are your injuries. They’ll show up on your soulmate’s skin, exactly at the same time and the same places as you receive them. They won’t feel the sensation of hurt as you do, and the bruises and cuts will fade as yours do, but in the minutes and hours in which you are bloody and damaged, they will be, too.

Scars last. That’s how most people know. When you see a childhood injury reflected on someone else’s knee or arm, you can tell it’s them. It’s as if a hook has been pulled through both of you, tying you together in a celebration of glitter and gore. It’s horrific, and it’s love, and no one has dared to mess with the process for the millennia in which soulmates have been around.

Least of all your soulmate. They marked you a long time ago, and although you weren’t there to see it happen, you can’t help but wonder at their rationale now. A scar curls around your left hand ring finger. It looks like a burn, and it must have been a serious one too, judging by the fact that it’s lasted this long. 

You can imagine your soulmate somewhere out there, forcing a white-hot band of metal around their finger and keeping it on despite the unendurable pain until they knew the scar would last forever. Imagine what that must mean to them, to you. There is a message that they’re trying to send to you, patterned in the syllables of their scorched flesh:  I love you to the point of agony, and past it. What a terrible sort of devotion for a soulmate. What a devastating burden of love for you to bear.

It makes you sick to your stomach, at times, and other days, it just makes you numb. Perhaps this is what you get, the Saints’ way of evening the scales. Everyone knows that the greed of a Grisha never goes unchecked, and maybe this is your diving retribution at last. You strove for too much too quickly, and now you have an excess of time in which you can ponder your failings, all alone for all eternity. It would make a sad sort of joke were it not at your expense.

After all, you should have died a long time ago, soulmate be damned. You started out life as a Heartrender, although you left the typical roles of that particular type of Corporalki behind long ago. At first, you merely shattered bone and spilt blood, but then you learned how to do more. Why kill one man when you can end dozens of lives with just as much force? Then, why kill when you can turn your attention towards yourself, healing not just surface wounds but deeper things, erasing the signs of age and wear until you were just as strong as you were at your prime?

Some would call it immortality. Others would curse it as witchcraft. You don’t need anyone’s misguided explanations anymore, though, your power will long outlive both them and their whisperings. It is power, plain and simple, and it is yours. You don’t just transmutate flesh and bone anymore, you shape life itself. Your life. Your life, extended forever, waiting for a soulmate who can keep up with you or die trying.

At times, you hate it, this prolonged life that you’ve given yourself. At the same time, the thought of dying without accomplishing all that you could is terrifying. The easiest thing to do is to keep living, keep drawing breath and wondering when things will change. If they don’t, well, at least you were here to see it. 

After all, have you ever been satisfied with your lot in life? You send a silent plea to any Saints up there, if they're still listening at all or merely content to keep pulling their strings and directing you down darker, rougher roads. Let me rest. Please. They send only one word back, after everything:  No.

So you continue your journey. Ravka needs your attention for a time, then you cross the True Sea to Kerch and Novyi Zem, and another century has passed by the time you think about returning to the eastern shores. The Shadow Fold makes things more difficult, certainly, but death is no enemy of yours, so you find ways of crossing, even if they take a while.

This time, you decide to cut through Fjerda on your various journeys. The wintry landscapes take your breath away, as they always do, but it’s a little difficult to marvel at the wonders of the country when they’re so fiercely dedicated to exterminating your fellow Grisha. You take it upon yourself to take out a few branches of the witch hunters, those treacherous drüskelle, and so you have a purpose for at least a little longer.

You get to take action upon this initiative while stopping in a small town close to the Fjerdan border for the night. While attempting to book a room in a local inn, you can’t help but pick up on the uncanny sensation of racing hearts somewhere closeby. You step away from the inn, distracted, and chase the sound of blood pounding through veins until it takes you into the surrounding woods.

There, you stumble upon what had been causing you such an uncanny sensation. A young woman, a Grisha Tidemaker by the looks of it, is attempting to evade capture by two upstart drüskelle captains. She hasn’t yet mastered her gift, and they’re well armed, so the situation is not good, to say the least.

Grisha are your people, even if you’ve become somehow separated from them by your many years. You fling out an arm and the two drüskelle go flying into the distance, clutching at their hearts as they burst in their chests. One more witch hunter materializes out of the gloom, but before he can fire off a round at you, a wave of shadow cuts off his breath and he falls to the ground, choking into stillness. The Tidemaker runs off the second the coast is clear, leaving you alone with this new stranger.

You turn around slowly, but the man emerging from the woods doesn’t seem to be a threat. He’s some kind of Etherealnik, but you’ve only heard of so many Shadow Summoners in your time. Perhaps there’s another one again.

“I came out to help,” he says, voice relaxed despite your hands raised at him in anticipation of a strike, “It appears that you didn’t need it, though.”

He doesn’t seem inclined to attack you, but you don’t trust the way he’s still hanging back in the shadows. You can’t see much of his face, nor his demeanor. “I’m no stranger to the drüskelle. They’ve always been the same sort of fools.”

“Always?” The stranger asks, allowing a note of humor to enter his words, “Have you been around long enough to judge them, then?”

You sigh. “Longer than you’d think.”

Instead of being put off by this, the stranger just grins, moonlight flashing on his teeth. “You’d be surprised what I think. I’m older than I seem.”

You look curiously at him. The man steps out of the shadows and into a patch of moonlight. Your breath catches in your throat. “No. That’s impossible.”

He’s not lying when he talks about being older than his appearance. You’ve seen this face before. Several times, if you’re not mistaken. A rebel against the Ravkan king a few centuries ago. A scholar of the Saints. A son trying to care for his mother. He’s been here whenever you passed through Ravka, but you never dared to assume that he could be anything but a familiar face passed down through the generations.

For some reason, on this night, you stop letting yourself doubt. This is a man who has been alive quite as long as you have, if not longer. Perhaps it’s the unearthly shine of the moonlight on the Fjerdan snow, transfiguring this scene into one of your memories, or perhaps it’s the fact that he’s taken his gloves off so he could summon his shadows, and you can see the imprint of a burn around the ring finger of his left hand.

No. It couldn’t be. After all this time, your soulmate cannot be the same young man you’ve crossed paths with half a dozen times before. What a cruel joke to play.

“Y/N?” He asks slowly, eyes as wide as yours.

You told him your name in one of your lives. He trusted you enough to say his back to you. “Aleksander?”

“Show me your hand,” he tells you, voice as steady as it’s always been.

When you hesitate, he crosses the clearing in a flash, standing in front of you. One of his hands curls around your wrist, holding it still, while the other holds up your fingers to the moonlight. He looks at the burn there, his burn, and at last, he smiles. It’s a proud look, almost vicious.

“You know,” he says slowly, “I always thought I’d marry you. I was a child then, and foolish, but I find I don’t mind the idea much anymore.”

He cocks his head to the side, staring openly at the scar he’d bound to both of you. You had wondered if you would fear your soulmate when you first met him, but instead, you just feel whole. A broken half has finally been reunited with its other part.

“Do you remember when we were both in Kribirsk together?” You ask slowly, haltingly, “I got a house right by the Unsea so I could study it. I think you were there for the same reason. We were the only two people in that whole town who weren’t afraid of it.”

He nods, eyes white with moonlight. “You fascinated me even then. When you left, I didn’t know how to live with myself. I started a whole new life just so the old one wouldn’t have to figure it out.”

You’d done the same thing. It took every bit of strength in you to go. You hadn’t wanted to leave the little house with the captivating man next door, but the other townspeople were starting to ask why you hadn’t aged since you’d shown up there decades ago, and the questions are only ever the start of your downfall. You’d cursed his name and yours in turn for the next few years until the heartbreak subsided.

“Before I left, though. We were alright.” You whisper.

He takes your other hand. “We’ll be alright again. It’s us now. Just us.”

“Just us,” you repeat, and for once, you let yourself believe it. You have it, your soulmate, him.

And at last, after centuries of wandering the land and sea alone, of second-guessing every shadow, of wondering what you did to deserve so much time by yourself without love, you realize that it has come to an end. All of it. There is no more solitude for you. Here by your side stands your soulmate. The long day has passed, and the rest of a quiet night shadows your threshold. It’s time to go home, so you think, but you’re already there.

requested by @cassiecrown, i hope you enjoy!

grishaverse tag list: @rogueanschel, @deadreaderssociety, @cameronsails, @mxltifxnd0m, @story-scribbler, @retvenkos, @mayfieldss, @eclliipsed, @gods-fools-heroes, @bl606dy, @auggie2000, @baju69, @crazyhearttragedy

[lets-try-some-writing]

What’s the TFP kids as sparklings unique signature calls?

Dang its been a hot minutes since I did TFP kids as sparklings. For the sake of understanding, I will stick to using their humans names for now. To answer your question, here are their calls.

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━

Rafael took the longest to create a unique signature call. Being a minicon, his ability to vocalize was not as strong right off the bat. As such, for a rather long time he stuck to the base call that all sparklings have. It concerned Optimus quite a bit when Rafael simply didn't seem to have any intention of developing a call at all. However, as cycles passed and Optimus and the team listened closer, they determined he did have a unique call, it was just very difficult to pick out on its own.

Rafael's call was a short and high pitched whistle that bordered on a chirp. It could even sound like a shriek if he went high enough in pitch. It scared the ever living daylights out of Smokescreen when on a long night, when he went to go wander around and hopefully ease himself back into recharge, a terrifying cry echoed in the base. He may or may not have screamed and tripped over the nearest object, but the team don't speak of it often. They've all been startled by Rafael's short and sweet banshee like shrieks on occassion.

Miko, being a flier, developed a call almost as soon as she settled into her Cybertronian frame permanently. Most sparklings tend to create a call that is entirely unique, but fliers have a particular method to their creation process. They pick pieces of their parents calls and then integrate those pieces into a new call. No flier call is every really unique, instead is carries history and lineage. Particularly skilled fliers who are familiar with various houses can pick up a family line just by hearing a bot's signature cry.

Generally Cybertronians stop using their calls after they get out on their own. They only begin using it again when they have a sparkling of their own since it allows the sparkling to track them. With this in mind, Miko took Optimus's gentle melody of a call and combined it with Starscream's shotgun like shriek in order to create a sound which Agent Fowler has described as: "Incoming missiles and Gatling guns". Many a time those who are not used to Miko have flung themselves behind cover when her slowly increasing call echoes around the area.

Compared to his siblings, Jack came up with the tamest call. Against what one might think, warframes tend to develop the calmest and most composed calls. Smaller frame types need to be loud and in charge with their calls in order to scare off predators and get the attention of others. But warframes? They don't need to bother with anything like that. Instead they need to try to show that they are not as wild as one might expect. It is the Cybertronian equivalent to the puppy dog eyes small creatures on Earth perform to get attention and sympathy.

Much like his Sire, Jack created a more sing-songy call. It was a simple two note tune going from high to low in frequencies that only a Cybertronian can pick up. To humans, he is totally silent. But to a Cybertronian, he is singing a soft high low tune intended to catch the attention of the person he is trying to interact with and nothing else. He doesn't need to scare them. He just needs momentary attention. If he really wanted something, screaming is a far more effective option.

[killuagirly]

BALLROOM ENCOUNTERS

CHARACTERS: Ciel Phantomhive

SUMMARY: Ballrooms are meant for dancing, but a young boy attending your party doesn't seem to agree with that statement. I wonder why that is?

NOTES: I'm trying to write newer fics so I can delete my older works and redo my masterlists. It's like a complete overwrite of my blog essentially, I can't wait until it's done! It feels like my writing has gotten much better, and although they did get interaction before, I don't really want to keep old writing on my blog!! :(

CONTENT: Female Reader

────────── ʚ♡ɞ ──────────

⟶ CIEL PHANTOMHIVE !

A ball, you had decided to host that night. You weren't too enthusiastic about the task of finding a suitor, but that's the weight that comes with being a lady of high status. Although you were young, prearranged marriages were common amongst aristocrats, you were no exception.

However, you drew the high end of the stick, and your parents were generous enough to allow you to attempt to find a suitor for yourself. They would have to approve of course, considering you were to be the next family heir, they wouldn't want you going off marrying someone without a well-known name. You weren't too upset about this condition anyways given that it was to be expected.

The task proved harder than you had assumed, but there was no pressure coming from any higher-ups, so you were in the clear for now. Still, it's better to start searching before your times of leisure end. The whole purpose of this ball, though not directly stated in any sent invitations, was to make the looking process a bit easier on yourself.

Interchanging melodies played in the ballroom as you chatted away with some of your guests, not finding anything that stood out to you in most. It wasn't like you were looking for a fairytale, although a girl could dream, just someone who wouldn't bore you to death. You had just finished up a conversation with a young man a bit older than you. He was polite and charming, but nothing special.

You let out a barely audible sigh once he turned and walked off in the direction of a crowd, feeling as though this mission was never-ending. You scanned slowly over the people chattering and indulging in food prepared for the party, until something caught your eye. A young boy who looked to be your age, and on the short side. He was dressed in a black and navy-blue formal suit with silver accents and held a stern expression on his face.

He must've been a wallflower, because he didn't seem to be in a hurry to engage in any conversation with other guests. A tall, elegant man stood by his side in classy servant's attire. Your curiosity was at a peak for the night, your feet guiding you effortlessly towards the pair. The young boy noticed you approaching and redirected his gaze elsewhere, most likely in an attempt to seem uninterested.

You ignored the indirectly rude gesture and sent him a smile, a sudden realization coming over you. This was the Earl Phantomhive you've heard about time and time again. You'd sent him an invitation, but you didn't actually expect him to attend. "Earl Phantomhive, so nice to meet you. I wasn't expecting you to show up," you greeted. He inaudibly sighed, his refined butler standing tall next to him edging him on.

"Yes, and you must be Lady [Surname]? It's nice to meet you as well, though I do question your low expectations of me," he spoke, although you couldn't tell whether it was sarcasm or seriousness. "Ah, I'm sorry. I just meant since you have such high status, I wouldn't have expected you to be bothered to attend a ball without business intentions." The Earl seemed bothered, as if he was internally agreeing with your statement.

The dashing butler beside him spoke up, "You see, my young master and I were notified that you were in search of a suitor. He is in a similar situation at the moment, and I do recall him speaking of you fondly," a devilish smirk played on his lips, watching his young master's face quickly become flushed, "So we decided it would be for the best to be in attendance in case you take any interest."

"I see," a smile tugged at your lips upon learning that the Earl Phantomhive had taken an interest in you, although you can't recall ever having met him before this encounter, "would you be so kind as to spare me a dance then, Earl Phantomhive?" The color seemed to drain from the boy's face as he searched for an excuse of some sort. He sighed, then slowly taking a breath, "I suppose so..." His butler chuckled, watching him take your hand and guide you into the crowd.

"You can address me as Ciel if you like," he said, not meeting your eyes. "Good to know! You can call me [Name]," you said with a smile as you moved your hands to proper position. The slow, romantic melody began playing throughout the ballroom and your feet moved in turn. Only a few steps in, you realized why Ciel had been so hesitant to dance with you. His movement lacked grace and he seemed incredibly nervous, making steps that didn't match the rhythm every now and then.

You held in a laugh and finally met his eyes, "So, Ciel, have you been caught up on your dancing lessons?" His cheeks flushed and he mumbled something that didn't catch your ears, "What was that?" you teased. "No, now will you be quiet?" he said in a tone that suggested he was less serious, and more embarrassed. You giggled and tried to help guide him further. As annoyed as he was, he did appreciate your efforts nonetheless.

Once the song concluded, his hands lingered on your form for a moment before taking a step back and kneeling to press his soft lips to your knuckles. "Thank you for the dance, my lady." He couldn't help the slight upwards curling of his lips when you smiled down at him with half lidded eyes. "My pleasure, Ciel." He stood and took your hand once again, guiding you towards where his butler took watching from afar.

"It's not very often I enjoy myself at a ball, I thank you for inviting me. Consider this a formal invitation to the Phantomhive Manor tomorrow to spend some leisure time together." He leaned closer and pressed a delicate kiss onto your cheek. Some heads turned towards you in surprise, taking in the rare scene before them. "I will gladly accept your invitation then," you responded with a giggle. He smiled and turned on his heel with his butler following behind, walking off towards the exit without another word. Maybe, you had found the fairytale you were subconsciously hoping for.

────────── ʚ♡ɞ ──────────

MASTERLIST

[sunflowerhae]

The Flops™️

Y/n

A 22 year old professional dumb ass with a side gig in being comedic relief. Y/n is easy to understand; she loves video games, loves her cat, and loves pasta. And well..MAYBE she loves her fans too. Y/n is what you could call an “unstoppable force”. She’s going up in the online entertainment world, and has no plans on stopping soon. After having JUST passed her 4 million subscriber milestone on YouTube, y/n believes her life is just near perfect. Which is exactly why God needed to humble her, she thinks. Because WHO kicks someone out of their apartment (3 months before their lease ends, might I add) because of a “miscommunication” if not compelled to by God Himself. So, now Y/n has to move all of her things..AGAIN..to a new place…AGAIN…and pray to God (who we’ve found does NOT have a soft spot for her) that this one sticks - at least for a little bit. Everyone around y/n quickly learns that it’s not her who’s the comedic relief, but instead her life which is so ridiculous, that you can’t help but laugh.

Giselle

Giselle has two main interests. She is a fan of music, and a fan of y/n. She got the music part covered by being one of Korea’s leading superstars. AND she has the y/n part covered by being y/n’s absolute ULTIMATE best friend. When she’s not hypnotizing a whole country with her melodies, she’s dreaming of hanging out with her friends and, maybe hot Greek men. But be careful! This kitty bites, and if you poke too hard at her, you’ll understand why they say she has claws.

Winter

When winter isn’t focusing on her (some would call it) obsession with animal crossing, she’s focusing on her blossoming career in the mukbang community. If you can name it, Winter can eat it. She’s still pretty new, but she’s gaining a steady following by her charming personality and, quite frankly, insane ability to hound a plate of food faster than you can utter an insult. It of course doesn’t hurt her new following that she’s good friends with some of the most influential people of her generation, but that doesn’t mean much to her. With a laugh and bite - winter is a happy girl.

Jisung

Jisung would never call himself a streamer. Sure, he plays video games for people to watch. Sure, he gets viewer numbers up to the thousands. SURE, he makes money off it and has a weekly upload schedule. But no, Jisung would NEVER call himself a streamer. So y/n does it for him! You might think the whole “bicker like siblings” thing is an act for the camera, but that’s just the nature of these two friends. When she’s not nagging him about how much he eats and yet never goes to the gym, Jisung fills the space by laughing and bullying y/n’s gameplay choices. Some newbies are convinced they actually hate each other, but OG’s know these two love each other fiercely, the difference is they show it in their own..unique..way.

Jaemin

Ah..Jaemin. The irony of Jaemin befalls all his friends. He is, by far, the most outgoing one of the bunch. Jaemin sees a new person as a new opportunity for a friend. He laughs in the face of introverts, while also hugging them and giving them a free bag of chips. Jaemin knows just what to say, and just when to say it. And it pains them all that he’s the ONLY “normal” one of the group. Jaemin is currently studying business at SNU, hoping to one day open a cat cafe. His nonchalance towards being in the most envied and admired friend group of their country confuses Jaemins classmates. And what confuses them even more is that, when asked if he feels lucky to be friends with them, his reply is only, “those idiots? More like what crimes did I commit in my last life to be cursed to know them”. But fear not for little old Jaemin, for he is probably the sneakiest of the lot. And if you don’t know what I mean, I’m sorry, but it’s already too late for you.

Jeno

Jeno is a model. It’s really that simple. Jeno is a model - and also so much more. He’s Jaemins best friend, he’s winters boyfriend, he’s the “glue” of the group (as y/n would put it), and he’s just genuinely a nice person. If you have an issue with anything - he’s there. A leak in your roof? Call Jeno. You’re missing a final ingredient for a recipe you’ve been dying to try? Jeno will find it, or die trying! Need a shoulder to cry on after a nasty breakup? Jeno is at yours with a tissue one minute, and an undisclosed location with a gun and some rope in the next. He’s the fiercest and loyalist friend you’ll ever have; who just so happens to be a model.

GG! (Good Game!) 👾

Notes: does anybody actually read my character descriptions bc I actually think I popped off w these ngl. Also not them being a hype house lowkey (without the house part)

☆ Masterlist ☆

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[craycray-wolf]

OKAY BUT Y'ALL. I'm genuinely curious. About the Monster Falls au. Fyi this post is going to be me throwing crap at the walls to see what sticks.

When it comes to Monster Falls...why has no one ever suggested a Harpy or Werecat for Mabel?? I feel like these monsters also fit our Mabes. Now the question for Werecat Mabel- is her body like that of a faun or a tuar?

I mostly agree with the main cast's monsters (erm Deer-per is precious??) aside from Mabel even if Merm/Unicorn her is cool

Also Wendy is usually a werefox but I feel that a werewolf also fits (especially considering how hairy werewolves are. Who else is hairy? Oh yeah! The Corduroy men)

According to the GF au wiki Soos is a clay golem. It works! I think we can still get creative with this! He could be a slime or alien (I'm picturing Toy Story lmao. "You saved my life dudes, I'm eternally grateful") or robot or faun or really any monster lol. I suppose he's of Mexican descent and therefore could be a Mexican creature! Maybe HE'S the unicorn because he's pure of heart...🥺 He could also still be a human super hyped that his friends are now monsters. What we think y'all I'm stumped.

Again going by the wiki Pacifica is either a gorgon or unicorn. I ABSOLUTELY LOVE THE IDEA OF GORGON PACIFICA I just wanted to propose a nymph as an idea. Do I want gorgon or nymph...

"Old Man McGucket is usually a scarecrow, warlock or a demon." - GF AU wiki. Ehh idk about these. Maybe McGucket is the slime? A cow creature or smth? A Kill Billy? Oh, he's a Kill Billy I found it! EUREKA!!

Now that I'm thinking about it Gravity Falls/Journal 3 specific monsters could be included in the ideas. Soos is another Abominable Broman haha.

Gideon is said to be a vampire, which just makes sense (bloodsucker lmao). I purpose an alternative: gnome.

Once again according to GF wiki Candy is a kappa. I say no. It's a cute idea but I'm also iffy about it considering the fact that Candy is of Korean/Chinese descent and a kappa is from Japanese folklore. That's not to say species/monsters can't cross nationality/ethnic boundaries, I'm just saying why not a Korean or Chinese monster? For example a g/kumiho (Korean) or qilin/kirin (Chinese/Korean)!

It also says Melody is a Harpy. Approved. She can apparently also be a ghost which is fine but Harpy Melody is adorable thx. I suppose maybe she's the mermaid of the bunch but now I'm team harpy

Is Tad Strange still a human? Or a piece of bread? IS HE THE SQUARE VERSION PEOPLE THEORIZED ABOUT

Maybe Tyler Cutebiker is half werepuma half werepanther...or a bunny or smth

Okay I'm going to stop now before I list the entire town of Gravity Falls.

General ideas for grabs for anyone: fairies, ghosts, skeletons, nagas/lamias, mummies, angels, demons, nephilim, dragons, ANY MONSTER REALLY.

I haven't had proper progress on my initial GF askblog BUT I'M GONNA MAKE A MONSTER FALLS AU WHY THE HELL NOT. Stay tuned! I'll be adapting an existing but inactive blog of mine for these purposes.

Thanks for coming to my (frankly unhinged) TEd talk it's been lit fam 🤙

[christinaroseandrews]

A lot of people are talking about how Disney didn't get nominated for their flagship 100th animated feature, Wish. Which is a big deal, I am not disputing that. This was a stellar year for animation and the academy had a glut of good options that did not include Wish. (I would have liked makoto shinkai's Suzume to be nominated but...)

But I want to talk about something else that is probably sticking in Disney's craw.

None of their Animated movies, in particular Wish, were nominated for "best original song."

Starting in 1940 with "when you Wish upon a Star", Disney's animated features could be counted upon to receive a nomination for best original song often winning the Honor. This includes movies such as Bambi; Saludos Amigos; Cinderella, and that racist mess that Disney would like you to forget, Song of the South. Even during the years after Walt's death a bunch of songs were nominated from things like Pete's Dragon and The Rescuers. But it wasn't until The Little Mermaid and the animation Renaissance that Disney's almost stranglehold and expectation that they're animated films would get nominated for an Oscar for best song really came into the forefront.

Take a walk through the best song nominations from 1989 to now and pretty much the majority of Disney and/or Pixar movies put out in those years has a best song nomination. There are a few exceptions, there always are, but generally when Disney includes original songs in its Animated properties it gets nominated.

That makes this year so odd. Disney technically has a nomination with Diane Warren's song for Flamin' Hot, which I suspect has more to do with the fact that the academy loves to nominate Diane Warren and then never give her the Oscar. ~_^ The big thing I noticed was that there were no nominations for Wish or even Elemental. And even more crucially, there was no one setting up a hue or cry that these movies (particularly Wish) didn't get nominated for best song.

Wish had all of the ingredients to be both an Oscar Bait for best animated feature and best original song. And the academy ignored it.

And frankly, I think this is 100% deserved. Wish was an okay movie. It wasn't good it wasn't bad it was just okay. And it's songs were forgettable.

Worse than that, in my opinion, they were unsingable. And what I mean by that is the songs were so complex so lyrically and musically difficult that a four-year-old in a princess dress would struggle to sing them. There were too many jumps and the lyrics were incredibly tongue twisty and they even sounded difficult for an accomplished singer like Ariana DeBose to sing. Seriously, the chorus of This Wish has so many jumps and drops that it is almost impossible to stay on key and also follow the melody. The music is just there.

When I walked out of the theater, I couldn't remember any of the songs. I still can't. And as most of my friends can tell you I have a bloody musical memory. I remember songs.

The first time I saw Barbie, I had three of the songs (What was I made for, I'm just Ken, and Pink) wrestling for dominance over who was going to be my earworm for the day. The same thing was true with Frozen, Moana, Encanto, beauty and the Beast, and even Tarzan. I still can't remember the music from Wish at all. To even write this, I had to go on YouTube and listen to the songs. And after listening to them, I still can't sing them. But just typing "I'm just Ken" has put that song in my head.

So rather than just celebrating Wish being excluded in a very good year for animation (it was so good, y'all) we should also be laughing and pointing that the Disney's attempts at getting a best song nomination for that movie also went unheeded.

Because I sure am.

[d6llg1rl]

“FRANK, THE RABBIT.”

warnings: mentions of schizophrenia and kissing! other than that, it’s just fluff:3

wc-781, ik it’s shortttt:((

The moon was a silent sentinel in the night sky, casting a cool blue light over the quiet street. A gentle breeze rustled through the leaves of the old oak tree that stood guard over the two houses that had been neighbors for generations. Inside one of them, you lay in bed, the melatonin you took slowly kicking in.

With a yawn, you swung your legs over the side of the bed and padded over to the dusty record player in the corner of your room. You flipped through your collection, searching for the perfect melody to carry you into the realm of dreams. Your eyes fell upon "The Killing Moon" by Echo & the Bunnymen. The cover, with its mysterious artwork, whispered of a time when music was a tangible experience, a shared journey through sound. You placed the vinyl on the turntable, the needle dropping with a soft click as the first haunting notes filled the air.

The song's ethereal introduction began to play, the echoing guitars and hypnotic bassline wrapping around you like a warm blanket. But the serenity was shattered by the sudden, frantic banging on your front door. The sharp sound pierced the quiet night, jolting you out of your tranquil state. Your heart racing, you quickly turned off the record player and tiptoed down the hall, the floorboards creaking beneath your bare feet. The muffled sobs grew louder as you approached, and you knew without a doubt it was Donnie on the other side of the door.

You swung the door open to reveal your neighbor, Donnie Darko. His eyes wild with fear and his face glistening with tears. He stumbled into your house, his chest heaving with panic. "He's here again," Donnie whispered, his voice trembling. "Frank is here, and he's so angry." You guided him gently to the couch in the living room, his brown hair sticking to his damp forehead. You knew all too well about Frank, the 6ft giant bunny-rabbit hallucination that had haunted Donnie since his schizophrenia had worsened.

"Calm down, Donnie," you said soothingly, "You're okay. You're safe here." But his eyes remained wide and unblinking, and he clutched at your arm like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to reality. You realized that words alone wouldn't be enough tonight. You led him to your bedroom, hoping the familiarity of your space might offer some comfort. He followed you, his bare feet silent on the wooden floor, his plaid pyjama bottoms, his grey baggy t-shirt and his teddy bear hanging from his hand.

Once you were both inside, Donnie's legs gave out and he collapsed onto the bed, burying his face in your chest. His body trembled violently, each sob coming in a hitched gasp, his voice strained from the effort of keeping his fear contained. "Shh," you murmured, stroking his hair gently. "I'm here." His breath was hot and quick against your skin, his heart racing like a wild animal's. The room was bathed in the soft glow of your bedside lamp, casting warm shadows on the walls.

You sat with him for what felt like an eternity, his tremors slowly subsiding under your calming touch. When he finally looked up, his eyes were red and bloodshot, his cheeks streaked with tears. "I can see him right now," he choked out, his voice thick with terror. You followed his gaze to the empty corner of the room, knowing that to him, it wasn't empty at all. The air felt charged, as if something unseen lurked just beyond the edge of reality.

Gently, you coaxed Donnie to lie down, his back pressed against the cool pillow. He clung to you, his fingers digging into your shoulder, the plush fabric of his teddy bear smooshed between the two of you. You whispered soothing words, your voice a gentle lullaby in the stillness of the night. The tension in his body began to ease, his breaths grew deeper, and eventually, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest told you he had found refuge in slumber.

You sat there for a few moments longer, watching the soft rise and fall of his chest. The room was so quiet you could hear the ticking of the clock in the hallway, each second a solemn metronome counting the moments until the next battle with Frank. With a sigh, you lay down beside him, pulling the blanket up to his chin. His hand remained curled around your shoulder, a silent plea to not let go. You brushed a strand of hair from his damp forehead and kissed him softly, your lips lingering for a moment longer than they should have.

[koiiiji]

Heyy I just wanted to say I really reallllyy love your writing and wanted to ask if you can write something about reader who is part of the Sabbat crew and is from the Middle East. Her relationship with the crew is all platonic and they all kinda see her as a little sister she’s 17 btw

hello looove!! at first i was like little bit unsure if my eastern european ass can be accurate and plausible but then i was beaten with thought that i've been in middle east countries multiplate times, but i still can't say that im fully familiar with your culture, so i’ll do it more neutral if you don't mind!!

there gonna be headcanon since i kinda run out of ideas and powers to write scenarios as it takes soooo many time (another reason why it took me almost one month, bc i was pushing myself to write an scenario) 🥹🥹

in love with my girl bella😭

• so like hyok brought you to the team since we saw frames with him on spanish (and i immediately make him person of the world) you prob know each other from cycling school where he was when he was younger.

• joker wouldn’t show many emotions towards you, but will silently brings you bottle of water or little snacks after trainings.

• wooin likes to show you around the city and took hyok with you to try new food and cafes.

• since vinny is new to team he was kinda surprised and firstly you didn’t like each other.

• hyok is the biggest older brother figure to you since it was him who brought you to the team and introduced you, and in general you know each other longer so you build trusting relationships.

• wooin maybe as charismatic and talkative of all of them as he can, but in the end of the day he would be the last who you would came for advice or comfort, simply because you don’t have such strong connection.

• your and vinny relationship will go progressively better with time, so after few weeks you had this friendly rivalry, but he wasn’t too harsh with you since you are girl and younger than him. through building relationships with you he learned patience and how to hold his temper a little bit.

• with joker, on the other hand it was…just silent.. he was silent… at least something in your life should be permanent, and in sabbath its joker who mostly just silent and not really talking. after one training he will silently came to you and just stick some random sticker on your helmet and go away.

• what joker and hyok have in general? they liked to learn about your culture. while hyok will randomly ask super random questions, or ask meaning or translation of jokes he saw in tiktok, joker would be just listening when you explained or if you randomly start share something from your life at home.

• hyok and wooin will use some stereotypical jokes to banter you.

• wooin and vinny less interested, since vinny cared about his mum (another reason why he still doesn’t count you as lil sis, he simply doesn’t have powers and enough emotions, since he can care only about her), and improving his skills and wooin just had many of his dark work stuff to do, so of course they would listen to what you said and mention, but don’t expect them to remember everything what u said

• hyok have some goofy melody from memes from tiktok to your contact melody (def not the explosion sound for messages) (IM SORRY OKAY?)

• 100% few times joker asked you to have an eye on his brothers, and you build quite strong relationships so youngest one definitely will call you older sister (as an older sister i told u it soooo cute🥹🫶🏻)