#but is he gonna say anything? Absolutely NOT

[444venicebitch444]

Something something TF 141 gets a new secretary because their old one decided to finally retire, and you show up.

A sweet little thing, no military experience, all shy smiles and nervous chuckles, punctual and neat.

You take care of their paperwork, their mail, schedule their meeting, bring them coffee, and most importantly it’s not half bad to have a good set of legs and a pretty face to look at.

Price was a right gentleman, a nicer boss than you could’ve ever expected from a military man, and Soap and Gaz really had your confidence going whenever they made their flirtatious quips (which was everyday, really).

Ghost, though? Ghost was exactly what you’d expected after hearing the stories: a stoic, intimidating man who spoke in grunts and monosyllables, and who was, in your opinion, quite rude.

Did the man have no manners? Had his mother not taught him to say ‘thank you’?

You tried making an extra effort with him, your need to be liked overpowering your annoyance towards the lieutenant, because you intended to keep this job; the pay was great, it was a short drive from your apartment and you weren’t going to let a guy who wore a bloody skull balaclava everyday ruin this for you.

So you smiled more, made your good mornings and good afternoons sweeter, same as the tea you’d leave on his desk everyday at 4 pm sharp, and the little squiggly hearts you’d draw on the post it notes on top of his files. 

And when Simon’s grunts started mutating into full fledged sentences, and he actually told you a joke, you found yourself grinning, more out of self satisfaction than because of whatever ridiculous pun he’d said in that deep, rumbling voice of his.

For you, it was over, your plan had worked, and now all your bosses liked you, getting rid of that lingering uneasiness in the back of your head. 

For Simon, on the other hand? You’d unlocked Pandora's box, if said box contained the lieutenant’s affection (obsession) for you.

It was true, he hadn’t liked you at first: you disrupted the routine, the practised flow of the office, and gave Johnny and Kyle an excuse to be fucking insufferable in their working space instead of only in the shitty pubs where they’d drag him after shifts. He was going to lose his fucking mind if he had to hear another “can’t walk into the office looking that good, darlin’. won’t let me get anything done”.

The worst part was that they weren’t wrong; you were pretty and Simon couldn’t deny that. I mean, what did anyone expect, for him to not shoot a look at your arse in those tight trousers? He was but a man.

But when you started your little routine, it sent him down a spiral. What the fuck was your problem? Why would you draw a bloody heart next to the note that reminded him about his debrief? 

What you hadn’t understood, though, was that with a man like Simon Riley, that wasn’t just being nice, it wasn’t getting him to like you. it was an enablement of his ugly heart, something that fed the flames of his desires, because why else would be making him tea? that was practically a wedding vow, love. 

So he decided that you were his, that he didn’t need to discuss it with you because you already worried your pretty, little head too much with work and what future husband would he be if he didn’t try to make your life easier?

That included tellin Kyle to fuck off when he flirted with you, giving you a lift when your car broke down (which had absolutely nothing to do with simon messing with its battery), and helping you find your cat when it ran away (the fucking thing had scratched the hell out him when he’d taken it to that alleyway). 

The most important part of his duties, however, was watching you, making sure you were safe. Because who was gonna do it if not him? certainly not your, in his assessment, untrustworthy friends.

And your locks were so easy to pick, it had only taken him one try.

So Simon watched as you read a book and bought the same the very next day, he watched you prepare meal after meal with the nutritional value of a brick and made a mental note to make you something healthy when he’d finally cook for you, and he watched as you came out of the shower, completely enthralled.

Unfortunately, he had no way of looking into your bathroom but you’d walk into your room wrapped only in a towel so he wasn’t going to be too picky. Especially not when he got to see you rub that vanilla scented lotion that drove him insane into your soft skin, or drop the fluffy towel to the ground only to cover the delicate swell of your breasts with your pyjama top.

His favourite part, however, was without doubt when you’d lie against your pillows, your fingers dipping below your waistband. His sweet bird, not so innocent after all. 

His body would burn as he watched, his hands aching to replace your fingers, his tongue wetting his lips because it couldn’t touch yours.

He held onto every tiny gasp, every quiet whine, knowing that he’d make you sound so much better.

But he was patient and he was going to do things properly, take his time: take you to dinner, buy you gifts, eventually give you the ring he’d already bought. He wasn’t a total wanker, lovie.

So for now he was going to be satisfied with watching you and stealing your panties, offering a gruff “morning, sweetheart” the next day.

[ari-ana-bel-la]

Can you do a Carlos dad were lando swears around his kid and now she won’t stop repeating it and he is trying to get her to stop but Carlos finds out (toddler daughter) if possible

Little Parrot

Carlos loved nothing more than being a father. From the moment Yn was born, he had promised himself that she would always know she was loved, always feel safe, and always be happy. And, of course, he had made it his mission to teach her Spanish so they could have their own secret conversations.

It had started as a joke between him and Rebecca—she had been determined to learn Spanish, but Carlos had made it harder by talking faster and using slang. In the meantime, he whispered little words to their baby girl at night, spoke to her in Spanish every morning, and now, at four years old, Yn was perfectly bilingual.

It was something he took great pride in, especially when Lando—her ever-dedicated godfather—tried (and often failed) to understand their conversations.

Lando had always adored Yn. He was there the day she was born, had cried when he held her for the first time, and spoiled her beyond reason. He tried his hardest to pick up Spanish, just so he wouldn’t be left out when Carlos and Yn had their little chats. But his progress was... questionable.

And now, as the paddock buzzed with activity before a race weekend, Lando had a new mission—one that involved a lot of pleading.

"Come on, just for a few hours!" Lando begged, his hands clasped together as he followed Carlos through the Williams hospitality.

Carlos sighed, adjusting the little pink backpack slung over his shoulder. Yn had demanded she bring her favorite stuffed bunny, a coloring book, and snacks for the day, and he, being the soft-hearted father he was, had agreed.

"Lando, I don’t know," Carlos said, casting a glance at his daughter, who was currently sitting on a chair, happily eating some fruit while kicking her feet.

"Please, please, please," Lando whined. "I swear I’ll take good care of her! She loves me! Right, Yn?"

Yn perked up at the sound of her name and turned to look at Lando with a big smile. "Sí!"

"See!" Lando grinned triumphantly. "She wants to stay with me."

Carlos narrowed his eyes. "You say that now, but last time you almost lost her in the McLaren garage."

"It was one time!" Lando argued. "And she wasn’t lost, she was just—exploring."

Carlos raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, fine. She wandered off a little," Lando admitted sheepishly. "But I promise, this time, I’ll watch her like a hawk. She won’t leave my side!"

Yn looked between them curiously before tilting her head at her father. "Papá, por favor?" she asked sweetly, blinking her big brown eyes up at him.

Carlos groaned. She knew exactly what she was doing.

"Fine," he relented. "But—" he pointed a firm finger at Lando, "—if anything happens, it’s your fault. And I will make you regret it."

Lando beamed, scooping Yn up in his arms. "Deal!"

Yn giggled as he spun her around, and Carlos exhaled, already wondering if he had made a mistake.

Lando was determined to be the best godfather in the world today.

"Alright, Mini," he said as he set Yn down gently on a chair. "We are gonna have so much fun today."

Yn nodded eagerly, swinging her legs as she held her stuffed bunny close. "What are we doing?"

"First, we have very important jobs," Lando said, crouching down to her level. "We have to inspect my car. Make sure it's all good for the race."

Yn's eyes widened with excitement. "Really?"

"Yep! And since you're my assistant today, that means you get a headset, too!"

Yn gasped. "Like you?"

"Exactly like me."

A few minutes later, Yn was sitting on Lando’s lap in the garage, wearing an oversized headset as she watched the engineers work. She looked absolutely serious, as if she really was his assistant, nodding along as he explained things in the simplest way possible.

"And this is my steering wheel," Lando said, holding it up for her. "It has so many buttons. Want to press one?"

Yn gasped. "Can I?"

"Yeah, but not the important ones," Lando said, pointing at a harmless button. "Try this one."

Yn pressed it with a determined look, and the lights on the steering wheel flickered. She clapped her hands in delight.

"You're a natural!" Lando grinned, ruffling her hair.

For a while, things were going perfectly. Yn was entertained, happy, and sticking to Lando like glue.

Then he messed up.

It happened when he was helping her climb up onto a higher chair. He wasn’t paying attention, knocked his knee against the table, and immediately hissed, "Fuck!"

There was a beat of silence.

Yn blinked up at him. "Fuck," she repeated.

Lando froze.

Oh no.

Oh no no no no.

"Um, no, no, no, we don’t say that," he said quickly, shaking his head.

Yn tilted her head. "But you said it."

"I—I didn’t mean to!" Lando panicked. "It’s a bad word."

Yn nodded seriously. "Fuck is bad word."

"Yes, exactly!"

"Fuck," Yn repeated, nodding like she was learning something important.

Lando slapped a hand over his face. "Oh, shit."

"Shit," Yn said immediately.

Lando nearly choked. "No, no, no, stop!"

But it was too late.

Yn found it hilarious. She giggled, kicking her feet, and started chanting, "Fuck! Shit! Fuck! Shit!"

Lando was screwed.

"Lando," Carlos’ voice cut through the air, dangerously calm.

Lando froze. Slowly, he turned, still holding Yn, who was currently humming to herself.

Carlos stood with his arms crossed, looking unimpressed. "Why is my daughter running around saying fuck and shit?"

Lando gulped. "Uh—"

"Fuck!" Yn chirped happily. "Shit!"

Lando shut his eyes. He was so dead.

Carlos pinched the bridge of his nose. "Lando."

"It was an accident!" Lando blurted. "I swear! I hit my knee, and I didn’t mean to say it, and then she memorized it like a little parrot, and I’ve been trying to get her to stop!"

Carlos sighed, rubbing his face. "Do you know what Rebecca will do if she hears her saying that?"

Lando’s eyes widened in horror. "We can’t let her find out!"

Carlos shook his head, but there was amusement in his eyes now. He turned to his daughter, kneeling in front of her.

"Yn, mi amor," he said gently, "those are bad words, okay? We don’t say them."

Yn pouted. "But Lando says them."

"Lando is dumb," Carlos said, sending a glare his way. "You’re much smarter than him, aren’t you?"

Yn giggled. "Sí!"

Carlos smiled. "Good. So, let’s not say those words anymore, okay?"

Yn nodded, then leaned in to whisper, "But they’re kinda funny."

Carlos sighed.

Lando snorted.

Carlos shot him a look. "Not helping."

Lando held his hands up in surrender. "Look, she’s gonna hear worse when she’s older."

"Not today, she won’t," Carlos muttered. He turned back to his daughter, who was already distracted playing with her bunny.

"Alright, no más palabrotas," Carlos said firmly. ("No more swear words")

Yn giggled. "No más palabrotas."

Carlos kissed the top of her head before glaring at Lando one last time.

"You," he said, pointing at him, "are never babysitting again."

Lando gasped. "That’s not fair!"

Carlos smirked. "Jódete." ("Fuck you")

Lando groaned.

Yn, despite her father’s warning, giggled under her breath. "Jódete"

Carlos sighed.

It was going to be a long day.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♥︎♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Authors Note: Hey loves. I hope you enjoyed reading this story. My requests are always open for you.

-🩷🎀

[shroomyv]

ᢉ𐭩-MORNING MUNCHER

Pairing: mark Grayson X F!reader

Synopsis: you and mark are both hungry. You’re hungry for food, he’s hungry for something else.

Warning: (kinda) corny mark grayson, little smut horny Drabble

A/N: this may be my shortest story up to date. It’s just a lil horny Drabble I had to get off and out of my mind. I’ll post a few more short fics soon after this one and I hope you enjoy them even tho there isn’t much. Also pussy eating/obsessed mark for the win. (Finally, I’d like to say thanks for 300 hearts on my last fic that must mean yall are enjoying my shitty lil stories. request are open as well)

It was already mid-morning—you and Mark enjoying another day off for once but you two still hadn’t done anything. You hadn’t even eaten.

“I'm hungry,” Mark said huffing into your neck as he held you tightly. “Well go get something to eat. Get me something too” You said back waiting for him to go off.

“I can get anything for us to eat right? Absolutely anything?” Mark said as he lifted from you. He had an absolute devious smile on his face but you weren’t paying much attention. “Yea anything-“

Before you could even finish your sentence, Mark was underneath the blankets latched onto your thigh getting ready to rip off your panties. “Mark!?” You shouted out his name trying to figure out what the hell he was even doing. “You said I can eat anything!”

Mark rebuddled as he was using your own words against you. Before you could protest further he got your panties off—he practically dived into your pussy. His face was stuffed in it as he inhaled for a second before pulling his face out. He just stared at it for a moment as if he was admiring your pussy.

“If you’re gonna eat it get on with it!” You shouted out. He loved how you went from protesting against it to wanting him to hurry the fuck up. He did as he was told—shoving his face right back in it as his tongue licked and sucked at your clit. You tried to move the blanket away as best as you could to see his face as you grabbed onto his head due to the pleasure. You felt like you were gonna pop already. He made sure he hit everything perfectly—only the best for you. Your thighs kept smashing in on his face and he’d just push em right back open and get back to work. He was no where near finished enjoying his meal.

“Oh…oh fuck mark…nhn.” You moaned and struggled to hold back wanting to have it last longer than it was currently. Mark spoke muffled

“Ust…mcum,” he said before going right back to sucking as you eventually cummed. His face was covered in your cum before he lifted his head. “I kinda want seconds what do you think?” Mark said with a smirk on his face. His lips coated in your cum and eyes beaming at you as he waited for your answer.

You wasted not a second to reply, “Absolutely.”

(Honestly, could’ve written more…if this does well enough who knows…👀

[lazysoulwriter]

not today, lando, not today. - lando norris.

----

Lando had been a cocky little shit all day. Not in a mean way, just in that insufferably smug, teasing way of his—full of himself, playful, with that infuriating smirk that made you want to roll your eyes every five minutes.

He had mocked you at breakfast, laughed when you almost dropped your phone in the pool, made fun of your music taste while driving, and then absolutely destroyed you in every game you played together, just to rub it in your face afterward.

And you? You didn’t argue. Didn’t snap back. Didn’t even give him the look.

You just let him be.

But now, in the dim light of your bedroom, it was your turn to play.

When you stepped out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, Lando barely looked up from his phone. But then you let the towel drop, revealing your delicate, baby pink lace lingerie, and suddenly, he was very, very attentive.

His breath hitched.

Already in bed, wearing nothing but sweatpants, he sat up instantly, eyes dragging over your body like you were the most exquisite thing he’d ever seen.

— Fuck... — he muttered, reaching out to touch your waist.

You took a step back.

— No.

Lando blinked.

— What?

— You heard me. No.

Your voice was soft but firm, and the confusion on his face was almost amusing. His brows knitted together as he tried to figure out if you were messing with him.

— But, baby... — He tried again, reaching for your wrist, only for you to pull it away. — What did I do?

You crossed your arms, tilting your head slightly with an almost smug smile.

— You were an asshole all day, Lando.

— No, I wasn’t! — he defended himself immediately, then hesitated. — Okay, maybe a little bit. But you didn’t even say anything!

— Exactly. I saved it for now.

The panic in his eyes was delicious.

— Oh, no, baby, come on… — He crawled to the edge of the bed, desperate to pull you closer, but you dodged him, walking over to the mirror to let your hair down, acting as if he weren’t even there.

— You should’ve thought about that before being an insufferable little shit all day.

Lando groaned, running a hand down his face.

— Okay, okay, I was a dick. I’m sorry, alright? I swear—

— No.

The word was firm, and yet, laced with something so teasing, so damn tempting, that he shivered. His eyes darkened as he watched you turn toward him, leaning against the dresser, your posture relaxed despite the tension in the air.

— I’m gonna lose my mind — he groaned, gripping the sheets. — You look so hot, and I can’t even touch you?

You laughed, finally walking toward him, stopping right in front of where he sat on the bed. His eyes roamed slowly, drinking in every detail of the lace, the soft curves of your body, the way your lips curled into that victorious little smile.

— Goodnight, baby — you whispered, leaning in just enough for your lips to almost touch his… and then you pulled away, moving to your side of the bed.

Lando cursed under his breath, falling back onto the mattress with a frustrated sigh.

— I hate this — he grumbled, turning to face you in the dark. — But I also love it.

You smiled against your pillow, feeling the heat of his stare on your skin.

He might’ve been a cocky little shit all day, but right now? Right now, he was just a desperate man in your bed.

And nothing was sweeter than that.

----

[writesvani]

Dear Me | 03

lawyer! jungkook x privatechef! reader

SUMMARY: Once upon a time, Jungkook and you were everything. Best friends who shared every moment, every secret—except one: you were in love with him. But life changed. High school ended, real life began, and slowly, you drifted apart, the distance between you growing too wide to cross.

The end. Except it isn't.

One day, after a long day at work, you open your email to find a message from 13 years ago—written by your younger self. A letter you’d forgotten, sent by a service you paid to remind you of your youth, your love for him. As the emails keep on coming and you keep reading, the flood of memories hits you, and you realize something heartbreaking: you never stopped loving him.

But now, it’s too late. Jungkook is about to marry someone else. Or is he?

estranged childhood best friends-to-friends-to-lovers?

TWs (for this chapter): emotional distress, unresolved feelings, unspoken grief, jealousy, insecurity, avoidance, mentions of lost friendships, nostalgia, mild self-deprecation, strained relationships, anxiety, bittersweet memories

comment HERE for Dear Me taglist;

SERIES M. LIST;

— previous chapter | next chapter

wc: 3,4k // date: 25th of March

CHAPTER THREE — Saturdays are for Yoongi; happy reading my gummies...

AN (DON'T SKIP): this chapter was so much fun to write, and i genuinely hope you all love it as much as i do! starting now, my new update schedule is officially in motion, and with that comes my note goal: 200. yup, you heard me right, two hundred. am i being ambitious? maybe. am i manifesting? absolutely. but hey, dear me usually hits that, so let’s keep the streak alive!

and here’s the deal—once we hit that goal, chapter 4 will drop faster than y/n dodging her feelings. so, leave your comments, send me asks, scream in the tags—I’m dying to hear your thoughts!

also, yes, i know these first few chapters are on the shorter side, but they're just here to introduce you to the story and its dynamics! i promise, longer chapters are coming soon

— love, vani ♡

The best part of your week is Saturday. There’s something about it—a sense of idle calmness, as though the world has momentarily slowed down. It’s the one day where you can embrace doing absolutely nothing, soaking up your unproductivity like a ray of sunlight. Saturday is the calm before the storm of the week, and that’s why, despite your constant need for structure and routine, you let it unfold naturally.

It’s funny, really. The simplicity of having one messy, unplanned day brings an unexpected thrill. You find joy in the uncertainty of how the day will pass, how it’ll surprise you. It’s a break from the usual schedule, a breath of fresh air in the middle of your carefully organized life.

Yoongi sits across from you, his usual aura of coolness interrupted by his bizarrely slouched posture. His hair is a mess—tousled and looking as though he’s been trying to tame it all morning, but it stubbornly refuses to cooperate. In front of him sits a caramel latte, the steam curling lazily as he takes occasional sips, his eyes flicking between you and your phone.

“Damn, that looks good,” he says, his voice a low murmur, but his gaze is anything but casual. He’s practically staring at the picture on your phone like it’s holding the secrets of universe.

You smirk, knowing exactly what he’s thinking. “Mhm, that’s what I’m talking about,” you reply, practically grinning from ear to ear. The pride you feel is almost tangible as you show him the picture—a shot of the crème brûlée you recently made at work. It’s perfect, golden, and just begging to be devoured.

Yoongi’s eyes are wide, his expression a mix of admiration and hunger. “I’m not even gonna lie, I’d eat that straight off the screen if I could,” he admits, a little too eagerly.

You chuckle, leaning back in your chair. “Well, you can’t. But if you want, I’ll make you one next time.”

His face softens into a grin, and he leans forward, his hands wrapped around his latte like it’s his only lifeline. “Deal. You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.”

“I think I do,” you say, the ease of afternoon gently swallowing you.

You lean back in your chair, tapping your fingers lightly on your cup, the hint of a smile playing at the corner of your lips. “But seriously, Yoon, I could teach you how to cook. You might actually impress someone with your skills for once.”

He raises an eyebrow, the amusement in his eyes barely hiding his disbelief. “Me? Cook? Please, I can barely make instant ramen without setting off the smoke alarm.”

You laugh softly, shaking your head in mock disbelief. "I remember the last time you tried cooking. The whole apartment smelled like burnt toast for days."

He slouches slightly in his chair, shoulders tensing as he glances away, a sheepish expression crossing his face. “Okay, that was one time. I may or may not have gotten distracted by my playlist. But I’m definitely not cut out for the kitchen.”

“You say that like you’ve given up entirely,” you tease, leaning forward with a playful glint in your eye. “Come on, hun. Everyone can cook if they try. Even you could pull off something other than cereal or microwaveable noodles.”

His hands wrap tighter around his latte, and he shrugs slightly, eyes flicking to the side as though he’s mentally weighing his options. “What’s the point? You’re the one with the magic touch. Every meal you make is basically a Michelin-starred dish.”

You raise an eyebrow, feeling the pride swelling in your chest despite your modest shrug. “You’d be surprised.”

Yoongi leans back in his chair, his head tilting just slightly as he observes you. His lips curl into a small smirk, though there’s a hint of skepticism in his eyes. “Yeah, right. Last time I tried, I couldn’t even boil an egg without making it look like a science experiment gone wrong.”

Your eyes widen, and you nearly choke on your drink. “That’s because you didn’t even know the difference between boiling and frying! You can’t just throw an egg in a pan and hope for the best, dude.”

He crosses his arms over his chest, leaning slightly forward as he feigns annoyance, but the playful gleam in his eyes betrays his true feelings. “Hey, I was improvising!” His lips curl into a mischievous grin. “It’s not my fault the egg didn’t cooperate with my vision.”

You roll your eyes but can’t hide the amused smile tugging at your lips. “I’m sure the egg was just terrified by your lack of culinary expertise.”

Yoongi’s posture stiffens as he glares at you, but the corners of his mouth twitch upward, giving him away. “Alright, alright, I get it. I’m a cooking disaster. I’ll just leave the meals to you, Chef Extraordinaire.”

You sit up straighter, tilting your head slightly, the teasing glint never leaving your eyes. “Smart choice,” you reply, leaning in slightly as if sharing a secret. “But, just so you know, next time I’m cooking, you’re the official taste tester. And trust me, you don’t want to disappoint me.”

He leans back again, hands resting on his lap as he stares at you with mock seriousness, though his lips are still twitching into a grin. “Challenge accepted,” he says, his tone a bit more dramatic than necessary. But you know he’s secretly terrified of the idea of cooking for himself.

A soft shift moves through the air, a gentle shift of calm that settles between you and Yoongi. Quietness. His fingers dance over the screen of his phone, tapping at the surface with practiced ease. You can guess he’s texting someone—maybe Nina, maybe a friend, maybe… Jungkook. The thought makes a knot tighten in your chest, but you push it away. It’s not something you want to think about right now. Instead, you pull out your own phone, your fingers flicking through the screen aimlessly.

Nothing exciting. Nothing new.

You let out a soft breath, your eyes drifting up to meet Yoongi’s. There’s a quiet comfort in the air now, the type that doesn’t feel awkward or forced. It’s the kind of silence that wraps around you like a blanket. The kind that settles into your bones, making your muscles relax and your fingers stretch out in a lazy ease. It’s the kind of quiet that only comes from familiarity, from knowing someone well enough that you can just be—no words needed.

The thought makes something soft bloom in your chest.

Yoongi’s presence brings a sense of grounding, like you’ve known him forever and there’s nothing that could change that. The fact that, despite everything, there’s still someone you can rely on, someone you can lean on when the world feels too heavy. It’s a rare comfort.

You haven’t seen him much lately. The demands of his job as a publisher, your own strict schedule—it’s hard to make time. Too hard for regular drinks or coffee, even calls. But somehow, there’s always that one day of the week that pulls you two back together, a day when the chaos of your lives fades just enough for you to enjoy each other’s company.

And that day is usually Sunday.

Maybe that’s why you love Sundays so much. The way everything slows down, the world becomes a little softer. The way Yoongi's presence feels like a breath of fresh air. It’s those moments, those quiet moments, that you cherish more than anything else.

You glance at him again. His eyes flick up to meet yours for a brief moment before he looks away, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. You feel it, the shared understanding between you two. And in that second, you realize that, even though you can’t always be together, these Sundays are enough to keep you close. To remind you that, no matter what, you have this.

You have him.

But alas, the silence, unfortunately, can’t last forever. A small motion, a sound disrupts the calm, and you find yourself briefly flinching at the sharp ring of Yoongi’s phone. You blink, your attention drawn to the screen before you can stop yourself. It’s ringing, and without thinking, your eyes are already glued to the name flashing across it.

“Nin 🫶🏻,” it says.

Your throat tightens, a lump forming that you can’t swallow down. Of course, there’s nothing strange about Nina calling him—she’s his sister, after all. It has happened countless times in the years you’ve known the twins.

Nina has visited him more times than you can count, and you’ve met up with her, too, shared easy conversations and laughter like before. But this… this is different. This time, seeing her name on his screen feels like a punch to the gut.

It’s the first time you’ve seen it since that day—since the day you saw it written in beautiful, flowing cursive on that damn envelope sitting in your desk drawer (well, except the day you saw it tangled in your emails from the past you, but you're choosing to ignore that).

The one you’ve kept hidden, locked away.

The one that still reminds you of a friendship that’s lost.

A friendship with Jungkook that once meant everything but now feels like it belongs to another lifetime.

A friendship that has been broken, shattered beyond recognition.

That envelope, that name, that moment—it's a reminder of the bond between you and Jungkook, the one you once cherished, now reduced to something unrecognizable. And it stings. It always stings. The ache doesn’t go away, even though you try to heal it.

Desperately.

Eagerly.

You force yourself to move on, to pretend like you’ve moved past it, but the wound is still there. Still fresh, deep beneath the surface.

You inhale sharply, trying to mask the uneasiness threatening to bubble up inside you. You flash your teeth at Yoongi, offering him a soothing smile—one that feels more like a mask than anything genuine. You can feel the tightness in your chest, but you push it down.

"I gotta take this. I’ll be back," Yoongi says, his voice breaking through your thoughts. His movements are quick, almost hurried, as he stands and brings the phone to his ear.

You nod, though it feels like a distant gesture, your eyes still locked on his phone screen even as he turns to leave. The words “Heey” drift back to you just before he’s out of sight, and suddenly, the space between you and him feels much larger. Much emptier.

You’re left in the quiet once more, but this time, the stillness feels heavier. The silence is louder now, pressing down on you as the ache grows, gnawing at your chest.

You’re reminded again, in the simplest of ways, that you’re not the number one in Yoongi’s life. That place is always reserved for his sister, Nina. And though you know it’s natural, normal even, a small part of you can’t help but envy her—for being the priority in the lives of everyone you ever cared about the way you always wished you could be. It’s irrational, you know it is, but it still stings in the way that only silent truths can. The hurt lingers, no matter how much you try to reason with it. You push it down, bury it beneath the smile you’ve perfected over the years.

Yoongi’s footsteps return before you can fully process the pain, the familiar sound of his shoes brushing against the floor, and he moves past you with an energy that immediately pulls your attention. There’s an excited gleam in his eyes—bright, almost too bright for his usual self. It’s contagious, but you can’t quite bring yourself to smile the way he does.

He’s joyful. Too joyful for Yoongi. And it’s a little too much, but you lean forward instinctively, elbows planted on the table, your hands cradling your face.

“You won’t believe this,” he says, his voice light with excitement as he takes a sip of his latte, the warmth of the cup seeming to match his newfound energy.

You stare at him, curiosity piquing despite the heaviness in your chest. “What happened?”

“Nin and Kook are coming to town next week, to check the venues,” he continues, his words rushing out of him like a wave breaking against the shore.

And just like that, the names—Nin and Kook—splash over you like ice water. They burn, sharp and familiar. The names of people you loved, people who are no longer yours to love. The uneasiness quakes through you, a familiar sting at the back of your throat. You try not to let it show, though. You won’t let it show.

Yoongi keeps talking, trying to act oblivious to the weight his words carry. “And they want us to grab a coffee together when we’re free,” he adds, a casual air to his voice, as if the idea of sitting in a café with them—laughing, reminiscing about high school, pretending like everything is fine—doesn’t rip at the edges of your heart. It feels wrong, the thought of being in the same room as Jungkook again, when so much has changed, when so much has been lost.

You swallow, forcing yourself to sit up a little straighter, letting the fake calmness wash over you. “Really? How did that plan come to life?” you ask, your brow quirking in an exaggerated show of curiosity, anything to mask the storm bubbling inside you.

Yoongi shifts, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, his gaze flitting between you and his empty cup. “Nina asked where I was… I told her I was grabbing coffee with you,” he rambles, his voice quieting slightly. “Then she mentioned that she and Kook were coming to town next week to check the venues. And, well, yeah, the rest is history.”

You nod slowly, trying to pretend that the mention of Jungkook doesn’t twist something deep inside you. The urge to respond, to say something that doesn’t betray the knot tightening in your gut, claws at you. But you just nod again, this time with a tight smile.

“Sounds… fun,” you manage, though the words feel foreign in your mouth.

“Could at least try sounding a bit more excited,” Yoongi says, giving you that look—the one that knows you too well. It’s the look that cuts straight through the act, the one that makes you feel like you’re not hiding anything at all. It’s funny, in a way, how he can pick up on your discomfort so quickly, but still, for all his sharpness, he never seemed to notice that you used to be in love with his sister’s fiancé. Or maybe, a small part of you wonders, he did know. And chose not to bring it up. Because acknowledging it would make it real, and if it was real, things would get messy. Yoongi would have to choose a side, and both of you knew exactly where his loyalty would lie.

You shift uncomfortably, forcing a smile, but it feels like the most unnatural thing in the world. “I am, I swear,” you say, but your fingers twitch against your cheeks, a small gesture as they trace the scar you’ve long since tried to forget.

Yoongi watches you closely, his gaze softening as he picks up on the subtle shift. “You don’t have to pretend for me,” he says quietly, almost too quietly. But the weight of it lands in your chest, sending a quick flutter through your heart. "I know this is gonna be a lil weird for you."

You blink, trying to clear the lump in your throat, but the words feel too heavy, too loaded. The silence lingers for a beat, thick and raw. Then Yoongi’s voice breaks through again, a little more careful this time.

“I mean, the four of us haven’t been in the same room together in years. I get it. I know you haven’t seen Kook in a while.”

“Yeah, it’s been a while,” you say, but your voice catches just slightly. “But it doesn’t make it weird...”

Yoongi tilts his head, the tiniest smirk curling on his lips. “You know, Nin says he mentions you a lot.” He leans back in his chair, watching you with those eyes that know too much, the ones that see past all the masks you wear.

Yoongi's words linger in the air, sinking in slowly, creeping up on wounds that you thought had healed. The fact that Jungkook still mentions you, still thinks about you—it shouldn’t sting this much, but it does. It really does.

Two years have passed since you last saw him, and the memory of that moment is sharper than you’d like to admit. The last time you sat down with Jungkook was after an awkward run-in outside his parents' house, where he invited you in for a drink. And it was… weird.

You both were strangers by then, with too much history between you to ignore, and yet not enough common ground to feel like you truly knew each other anymore. It was like trying to force something familiar into an unfamiliar shape. The conversation, stilted and uncomfortable, quickly drifted to small talk—safe topics about childhood and high school memories, things that kept the ground beneath your feet solid, even if it felt like you were both standing on shaky ground.

You blink, breaking out of the fog of that memory. Yoongi’s eyes are still on you, waiting for you to say something. Anything. You open your mouth, but the words falter, unsure of where they’re going. “Look, Yoon, okay, maybe…” You pause, trying to form the thoughts swirling in your head. “Maybe it’s a little weird because I haven’t talked to both of them in a while. But so what?” You shrug, trying to play it off, but the unease bubbling inside you is hard to ignore.

Yoongi tilts his head, studying you with that familiar, knowing gaze. “So what?” he echoes, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “You’re telling me you’re not worried about it?”

You don’t answer immediately, your fingers tapping lightly on the table as you try to steady yourself. The truth is, you’re not sure what you’re worried about. The past? The present? The strange space in between?

Yoongi's buzz slowly fades, and you can’t help but feel the weight of it. The joy that had been on his face when he finished that call, the spark in his eyes—it all starts to slip away, and you can’t shake the feeling that you’ve somehow extinguished it. He was so eager, so excited for the four of you to hang out again, and now, with all your overthinking and awkward thoughts about Jungkook and the thing that happened between you, you’ve managed to ruin it.

You glance at Yoongi now, watching him carefully, as if he’s trying to decode something that’s impossible to read. His eyes are focused on you, sharp and observant, like he’s piecing together a puzzle with every little shift in your expression.

Your eyelashes flutter, and instinctively, your tongue darts out to wet your lips, but they feel dry, a little too dry. You take a sip of your coffee—cold, bitter, the taste of it almost mirroring the ache in your chest.

"I have nothing to worry about," you say, your voice a little softer than you intend. You scratch the back of your head. "I know that once we get past those first five minutes of awkward hell, it'll be like back in the days."

Yoongi shrugs, and a small, almost nostalgic smile tugs at his lips. "Yeah... like when we were young," he agrees, his voice carrying a bittersweet edge.

Your eyebrow quirks up, and you let out a short laugh, though it’s not entirely a pleasant one. "Dude, are you seriously quoting Adele right now?"

He looks at you, unbothered. "What? I’m just trying to lighten the mood."

"With a depression anthem?" you joke, the corners of your mouth lifting despite yourself.

He holds up his hands in mock surrender. "Don’t kill my creative vibe, okay?"

You shake your head, but the tension loosens just a little. Maybe it’s stupid, but his attempt at humor, however ridiculous, makes things feel a little less heavy. The fact that Yoongi can still make you laugh, even in the middle of all this weirdness, is oddly comforting.

The conversation shifts, both of you silently agreeing to steer clear of Jungkook, Nina, and the storm their arrival will inevitably bring. No mention of wedding venues, no talk of Nina with a ring on her finger—the ring you haven’t even seen, don’t even know what it looks like.

And maybe that’s for the best.

So instead, you devote yourself to Yoongi again, clinging to the safe space he provides. You let him pull you into a discussion about a new book he’s reviewing, something he’s beta reading for a supposedly famous writer. Supposedly being the key word, because despite his insistence that they’re a big deal, you’ve never heard of them. Then again, maybe that just says more about you than it does about them—about the fact that you haven’t picked up modern fiction in a while, about how your shelves are still filled with books from a past version of yourself.

You laugh at his dramatic retelling of the plot, roll your eyes when he insists the main character is "literally the most annoying protagonist ever written," and for a while, it works. You manage to push the conversation from earlier to the back of your mind.

But not far enough.

Because the weight of it still lingers—heavy, unfiltered, sitting right there in your heart. And no matter how hard you try to ignore it, no matter how fast you try to outrun it, the truth remains.

It’s still there.

Just like Jungkook.

taglist: @lovingkoalaface @santiiagopopegarcia @jadaocon1 @asyr97 @gukieater @themwordsblog @whatevevrerr @amarawayne @tititania @guwol @reallygenerouskoala @bgfdcvbnjk @kyljjk @whoa-jo @taekritimin123 @minimoninini @upo1313 @polnaraffsrack @tatzzz-25 @orphicepiphany @coletaehyung @bjoriis @epiphany-n @kimyishin @eegyo @dearmyfavoritepeople-bts @parkinglot-nights @mar-lo-pap @evrsncenewyork @jjeonjjk7

[dollbrbie]

♡ ⸝⸝ HOW THE AGE GAP AFFECTS YOUR RELATIONSHIP

cw. toji & panther!reader, age gap, smut kinda so mdni

EXPERIENCE

with yours and toji’s age gap being around a decade, there’s definitely a huge difference in experience. this doesn’t necessarily just mean with sex, but it’s safe to say toji has been round the block a little. after all, he’s an attractive man so it wasn’t unexpected when he had said he was experienced. it did start to make you feel a little out of place, though. you just felt so innocent compared to him. but, toji will never want his girl to feel unsure about herself when he’s around.

“you don’t need to get so worked up about it, sweetheart. i can always teach ‘ya.”, he’ll say with his signature smirk, and in that moment, you don’t feel so bad about it.

LIFESTYLE

with that being said, toji has a lot of life experience compared to you. he’s had his fun in his twenties, partying and drinking, the one night stands that come with it. now, he just wants to settle down. he spends most of his weekends at home when he’s not working at the club. and trust me, he’s not working there because he loves the atmosphere. whenever he does go out, it’ll be with a few of his friends just to have a couple beers.

with you though, you wanna have your fun! you’re still young and you haven’t really lived you life yet. so, you and your girls will regularly go out clubbing, to the bar or to some festival. and while toji will always fund you for it, he’s never going to be happy about it. he knows what goes on there as a guy. it’s not like he doesn’t trust you, he just doesn’t trust the other men around you and he really wishes you’d understand that better.

ARGUMENTS

this links back to the last point. while arguments are pretty rare between you two, when they do happen, it’s very clear the age difference and maturity between you both and most of the time it’s because of your lifestyle. you can get pretty fiery at times, always defending yourself, while toji just can’t deal with it. he’s the type of guy who’ll just walk off during arguments when they get heated, leaving you to overthink and think the absolute worst. he just thinks he’s too old for it.

and sometimes, you can even get a little petty. posting on your instagram story when you’re at the club, maybe showing a hint of some guys shoulder. yeah, it’s kinda toxic, but toji knows you better than to ever cheat on him. but it definitely gets him riled up the way you want him to.

afterwards, you always find yourself beneath him, having him fuck your brains out just the way you wanted. he knows you do this on purpose, but he can’t help but fall for it every time.

FRIENDS & FAMILY

this one is a hit and miss. your friends have known toji for just as long as you have, so they’re more than okay with your relationship with him. even when you’re not out with them, toji will look out for your girls, making sure weird guys stay away from them, watching over in case of anything suspicious. honestly, they love him and your relationship.

however, your family definitely don’t approve as much. you can’t really blame them too much, they’re just trying to look out for you. and with toji’s appearance, he’s not really giving the boy next door vibes. they never invite him round for family gatherings or dinner, they kinda just.. ignore him. after their countless attempts, they know they’ll get an earful from you if they say anything too out of order, so they just let you do you at this point. they have the mindset that hopefully you’ll grow up one day and realise that your relationship isn’t gonna last.

but toji is determined, he’s been made very aware that your family don’t particularly love him. but, he knows you’re the one, the one he wants to spend the rest of his life with. so he’ll try and try and try again until he gets it right. because one day, he wants to be putting a ring on your finger, and he certainly doesn’t want your dad scowling at him whilst walking you down the isle.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 SERIES MASTERLIST

[fanged-fanfics]

☆ Even Seas Must Dream — One Piece x Reader Sleeping HCs ☆

Genre: Fluff || they/them pronouns for reader || No warnings needed

A/N: Characters included: Luffy, Zoro, Law, Ace, Sir Crocodile, Buggy, Mihawk

──────.𖥔 ݁ ˖˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ──────

Luffy

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Always clings to you no matter what, you can try to put pillows between you and he'll just cling to them instead

ᯓᡣ𐭩 He can either wake up the second you leave the bed or sleep like a stone anchored into sand depending on the night

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Don't be alarmed if you wake up to rubbery arms wrapped around you like a hose, he's just making sure you don't fall out of bed or anything

ᯓᡣ𐭩 If you get up to get a drink or something there's a good chance he's gonna follow you for his 5th midnight snack of the night and keep am arm around you the whole time

Zoro

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Sleeps like a stone. Unmoving, mostly on his side or on his back, somehow manages to look tense while doing it

ᯓᡣ𐭩 When he sleeps on his back he loves for you to lay with your head on his chest, or even directly on him if he's comfortable enough. When on his side he prefers to be cradling you from behind

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Probably the most open with affection when he's sleepy, he reaches a point where he's too tired to care about others and openly leans on you

ᯓᡣ𐭩 The second you get up to get something he notices, he'll always offer to go with you even if he can barely stay awake while saying so

Law

ᯓᡣ𐭩 He has a terrible time falling asleep. I feel like he'd be the type to constantly be aware of the health of others while hypocritically not acknowledging his own

ᯓᡣ𐭩 You have to practically drag him to a place to sleep whenever he's been up for way too long, which he'll argue about for the longest time

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Once he falls asleep, he'll eventually curl around you and hold you tight to his chest. You are now stuck for the rest of the night, his grip while sleeping is surprisingly strong

ᯓᡣ𐭩 In the morning he's gonna complain about being hot despite being the one who refused to stop cuddling you for even a second

Ace

ᯓᡣ𐭩 His body temperature is naturally pretty high. It makes him amazing for cuddles in the winter, but in the summer you might wanna keep a little distance

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Messy sleep schedule. Naps wherever he feels like it and spends a lot of time at night doing sneaky side jobs (mostly breaking into bars) with all the extra energy

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Sleeps very heavy when he does manage to rest, you can barely wake him for anything and he'll nap far into the afternoon if you don't get him up

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Both fortunately and unfortunately, his favorite way of sleeping is tucked directly into your side, giving a random kiss to your shoulder before he's fully asleep

Sir Crocodile

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Pretty average sleep schedule despite how invested in his work he always is. He insists on keeping his mind sharp, and sleep is part of that, though he isn't opposed to an all-nighter now and again

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Not that flexible when it comes to it either— when he says it's time to sleep, you gotta head to bed too. How can you expect to be there for him if you can't even keep awake for yourself?

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Very light sleeper. The second something is wrong, he'll be up. Unfortunately this also means a night of restful sleep is rare to come by for him more often than not

ᯓᡣ𐭩 His quality of sleep began improving greatly when he started letting you hang onto him, something about reaching out in the middle of the night to feel you close by comforts him

Buggy

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Claims he 'doesn't need sleep' and then will only go a few hours past his typical bedtime before absolutely crashing

ᯓᡣ𐭩 A big con of sleeping beside him is he can have cartoonishly loud snores when he's really out cold, and he insists on having you close at all times

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Sometimes in the search for the perfect sleep position his limbs will move around in their detached state. It was pretty startling the first few times you woke up to a separated arm or leg hanging onto you

ᯓᡣ𐭩 One of the cons is he let's his hair completely down to sleep and you're the only one that gets to mess with it however you want (though he will playfully complain no matter what)

Mihawk

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Sleeps in calculated amounts to keep his mind sharp. He's pretty lenient on when you sleep, but he'll subtly hint to you when he's ready to head to sleep

ᯓᡣ𐭩 He goes to sleep on his side of the bed but always ends up cuddled up to you by the morning. He claims he doesn't know how it keeps happening

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Most times he wakes up way earlier than you do, so by the time you go to find him he's got breakfast ready and did most of the household chores

ᯓᡣ𐭩 One of the only times he doesn't look like he's constantly frowning is when he's asleep, it's a unique kind of peaceful others don't see from him, a sight reserved only for you

[jes3icasriley]

late night confessions - tlou

paring - Ellie Williams x fem!reader/ Ellie Williams x miller!reader

summary: Ellie had been drowning in a feeling she could no longer ignore—was it love? It gnawed at her, restless and undeniable, until she finally turned to Tommy for advice, knowing Joel would lose his mind if he found out. Tommy’s answer was simple: get up and confess. And so, she did—knocking on your window, heart pounding, ready to spill everything.

Ellie knew she was screwed ever since she saw you standing alongside Joel and Tess. Not in the life-or-death kind of way—not like when she was running from infected, dodging bullets, or nearly dying by a group of hunters. No, this was worse. These were feelings. And worse than that, they were feelings for you—Joel’s daughter.

Which meant she was really screwed.

She didn’t know when it started. Maybe it was the first time you stood up for her against Joel, saying she wasn’t some dumb kid who needed to be babysat. Maybe it was the way you laughed—really laughed—when she made some dumb joke. Or maybe it was just you, always you, existing in a way that made her heart do things it shouldn’t be doing.

But there was no way in hell she was telling Jesse or Dina about it. Jesse would make fun of her for life, and Dina? Dina would absolutely run straight to you with the biggest, dumbest grin on her face. So Ellie did what any completely rational person would do in her situation—she went to Tommy.

The decision was made in a panic. She hadn’t even planned it. One minute she was helping him kill stragglers out on patrol, and the next, she was blurting out, “I think I’m dying.”

Tommy had blinked at her, understandably confused. “Uh… what?”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me..” Ellie mumbled, dragging her hands down her face. “I feel all… weird. It’s like where my stomach does this thing…like, like a tummy ache or some shit—whenever I see her, and my hands get all sweaty, and my mouth just stops working!”

Tommy frowned. “Who’s ‘her’?”

Ellie looked at him, looking around the area, almost seeming to want to ignore that question until she gulped. She sighed, cursing at herself, then actually telling Tommy.

“Yn..” she whispered, mostly to herself. Tommy moved his head to the side, giving Ellie that look like “speak up, I can’t hear shit” so she did just that.

“Urgh… y/n, okay? I don’t know, it’s… Complicated.”

Tommy stared at her for a long moment before a slow, knowing grin spread across his face. “Ohh. Ohhh.” He nodded, clearly enjoying this way too much. “You got yourself a little crush, huh?”

Ellie groaned, burying her face in her hands. “Don’t say it like that.”

“Like what? Like the truth?” Tommy smirked, nudging her with his elbow. “Wow, Ellie. You really went and fell for good old y/n? You sure you’re not actually dying?”

Ellie let out a dramatic sigh, flopping back against a nearby tree. “Might as well be. If Joel finds out, he’s gonna kill me.”

Tommy chuckled, shaking his head. “Nah, he won’t kill ya. Probably just glare at you real hard until you wither away.”

Ellie groaned again. “Not helping.”

“Alright, alright.” Tommy held up his hands in surrender. “Look, it’s simple—if she makes you all sweaty and dumb, you like her.”

“Wow. Thanks, Doc,” Ellie deadpanned.

“You want my advice or not, smartass?”

Ellie huffed but nodded.

“Just tell her.”

Ellie made a noise like she was physically in pain. “Are you insane? Joel would totally kill me. He’d turn me into boots, Tommy.”

Tommy shook his head with a small snort. “C’mon, Joel ain’t that bad.”

Ellie cocked her head towards him, giving Tommy a deadpan look.

“…Alright, yeah, he’s that bad,” Tommy admitted, laughing. “But I’ll tell you what—if he tries anything, I’ll take the blame. Tell him I put you up to it.”

Ellie stared at him, eyes wide with genuine horror. “You would die.”

Tommy grinned. “Eh, maybe. But it’d be funny.”

With that so-called “advice,” it led her to now. Standing outside your window like some creep, hands sweating, heart racing, trying to convince herself not to run away.

She knocked—too loud, too aggressive—before immediately panicking and knocking again, this time way too soft. She cursed herself, looking around the night of Jackson.

Maybe she still had time to run away and forget even confessing—until a few seconds passed before the curtain shifted, and then suddenly, there you were. Sleepy-eyed, confused, and unfairly pretty even in an old shirt and sweatpants.

“Ellie?” Your voice was groggy, and God, why did you have to sound cute right now? “What are you doing?”

Ellie opened her mouth. Then closed it. Then opened it again.

Shit. She should’ve planned this out.

“Okay, uh—so, funny story.” Ellie scratched the back of her neck, shifting on her feet. “You know how, like, sometimes you think you’re dying, but it turns out you have, like, emotions?”

You blinked. “Ellie, what—”

“I like you,” Ellie blurted, then immediately winced. “I-mean yeah, I like you. A whole lot actually. And I didn’t know what the hell was going on until Tommy—yeah, Tommy—explained it, which, by the way, super embarrassing—”

“Ellie.”

“—but then I figured I should tell you before I implode or Joel literally murders me—”

“Ellie!”

She finally shut up.

You just stared at her for a long moment, eyes scanning her face like you were trying to make sense of her rambling. Then—before she could fully process what was happening—you reached out, grabbed the collar of her hoodie, and pulled her forward, pressing your lips against hers.

Ellie froze.

Oh.

Oh.

She barely had time to react before you pulled back, searching her face with an expression she couldn’t quite place. “Does that answer your whole… thing?”

Ellie, who was still short-circuiting, managed to let out a very intelligent, “Huh?”

You laughed—soft, amused, ridiculously fond. Your cheeks matching her flushed ones, Ellie staring at you, then your lips again.

“I guess you can say I like you too?”

“I guess? What does that mean–”

“I’m kidding, I really–really like you too.”

Ellie blinked. Then blinked again.

Then—“Holy shit.”

You grinned, tugging her inside before Joel could wake up and murder her on the spot. Your hands still on her collar, pressing your lips against her cheek, a soft hitch coming out of Ellie.

You pulled back, your eyes scanning Ellie’s freckled cheeks and nose, turning a bright pink color as she placed her hand on the spot where you kissed her. Then, the stupidest—goofiest grin appeared on her face as she leaned in and pressed her lips against yours. You cupped her cheeks in your hands, deepening the kiss as the nerves left Ellie’s system and melted into the kiss.

Maybe, confessing wasn’t such a bad thing after all?

hiiI! So this is my first post, hoped you guys enjoyed it! And thank you soo soo sooo much for reading!

[angelltheninth]

Hi just wanted to say that I love reading your invincible fics !! If your still accepting requests; would it be ok if I request dating hcs on Mark , Eve and Rex please 🙏 (separate if possible) love them so much (reader I’m fine with female or gn ^^)

I love those three too! I will gladly accept your request.

Pairing: Mark Grayson, Eve Wilkins, Rex Sloan x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, dating, kissing, flying, power use, flirting, banter, established relationship, superheroes

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: Dating one of them would be great, but imagine dating all three?!

The best boyfriend you could ask for, will take care of you no matter what you need

More on the shy side when you first begin your relationship and easily flustered

You have to be the one to kiss him first, he doesn't exactly have a lot experience with dating

Always got tongue tied around pretty women and you are no exception even after you begin dating

Uses his powers to impress you, or tries to impress you, but he almost crashes into a building because he was too busy flirting with you to notice it

Happy to be affectionate in public, always holds your hand while you walk together

Stays up late to talk to you, Mark is pretty stubborn when it comes to ending the call first

Listens to your heartbeat from far away because it helps him relax and puts him to sleep easier

His phone is filled with pictures of you in various outfits, some of which you bought on your dates, others that you had in your closet and sent pictures to him

The best kinds of dates are the nightly flights he takes you on, high above the city, somewhere private, there are so many romantic spots to explore around the world

Eve compliments you a lot before and after you begin dating, that and affectionate touching are how she expresses her love the most

When she wants to kiss you and you're on the other side of the room she floats right next to you and plants a quick kiss on your cheek right before moving away

If you want to kiss her back you're gonna have to catch her first, which might prove a bit of challenge but the reward will be worth it

Kisses your hand a lot and enjoys the way it makes you blush, you're like a pretty princess

Doesn't let anything interrupt your cuddling sessions and if there's anything either of you need to grab she will levitate it within arms reach

Loves helping you with your makeup and buying you makeup and various accessories, most of them matching

Not shy about taking showers together when either of you spends the night at the others place

Absolutely melts on the inside when she wakes up and sees that you cooked her favorite food to make her feel better when she had a bad night or a bad mission

Hugs you tight when you sleep next to each other, kissing your forehead before she fully falls asleep

On your anniversaries she always tries to come up with something new and fun for the two of you to do together

Big flirt compared to your previous boyfriends and will use any chance to make you blush

Can be the big spoon or the little spoon, it doesn't make much difference to Rex as long as he gets to hold you in his arms all night long

Enjoys leaving kiss marks and bite marks on you, grinning like a lovesick fool when he sees them on you while you're getting dressed

Kisses you in front of his friends and teammates when ever he gets the chance

When it's your anniversary he makes his own fireworks, maybe slightly less flashy but he wants you to see the effort he put in

Gets slightly jealous when he sees other heroes trying to flirt with you

Often works out in front of you since he knows you enjoy seeing his muscles, and the occasional invitation to get into the shower with him after he's done

Huge fan of sleeping over at your place and leaving his clothes there, but he pretends he does it on accident

Actually he does that specifically to see how you're wearing his clothes more and more, during the day and when you're going to sleep, wearing one of his shirts

Instead of just kissing you he will often instigate a long make out session, he can't keep his hands off a pretty girl like you

[deadtiredtifosa]

NEW IN PINK

One day, you enter the bullpen in pink, looking nothing like you did yesterday. And Aaron couldn't be happier.

pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader tags: bimbofication, reader has longer hair, bau!reader, fem!reader wc: 0.6k

Aaron has absolutely no idea when this transition happened.

One day, you came to work like you usually did, wearing a business casual outfit, flat shoes, barely visible makeup, and your hair was pulled into a messy ponytail. It was practical, professional, something that perfectly matched his suits. 

But then the next day you entered the bullpen, and he had to double check to see if it was really you. Pastel pink dress, nude high heels, light makeup, long fake nails, matched with a perfectly combed high ponytail. The opposite of what you were usually like. 

It’s not that he didn’t like what he saw. 

Because he did. 

God, he loved it. 

All he could think about was seeing if your lingerie was different too, because he simply knew it was now something cute, something lacy, something he will want to take his time taking off you. And those nails? He wanted to feel them scratch his back when you’re in bed together. 

The entire day passed with his thoughts revolving around you. Thoughts that were completely and totally unprofessional, definitely not belonging to this office.

Twenty-four hours and a few cold showers later here he is, sitting behind his desk, spending his day watching you through the window. He doesn’t get any work done because of you, because he can’t stop thinking about you in that blue skirt and white dress you’re wearing today. 

Since your relationship is a secret, he can’t say anything about the way Morgan is looking at you every now and then. He can’t object when he casually puts a hand on your body in a perfectly appropriate, but still almost intimate way. He doesn’t have the right to stop you when he asks you to grab a coffee with him.

But when you return, the sound of your carefree laugh filling the bullpen, drawing every pair of eyes on you, he decides that enough is enough. He steps out of his office and asks you to come in for a moment.

The moment you step inside, he pounces on you like a predator, and gently pushes your back against the wall. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?” he growls into your ear.

As he inhales deeply in an attempt to figure out what your new perfume smells like exactly, you run your manicured fingers down his chest, only to stop just above his belt. You little vixen, you know perfectly well how to drive him crazy.

“What’s gotten into you?” you ask innocently as you glance up at him through your lashes.

“What’s with this new style? The change was so sudden,” he begins, but then his lips curl into a smile. “Not like I don’t like it, because trust me, I do. I really do.”

You giggle happily as you lean up to kiss his chin. “Why don’t you tell me what you love so much about it over dinner?” you suggest.

He tilts his head to the side as he watches you, the smile still in place. “Dinner at my place at seven. I’ll ask Jessica to babysit Jack tonight.”

Your lips part as you inhale, preparing to respond, probably with something that will rile him up for the rest of the day, but then there’s a knock, and he has barely any time to step away from you before Prentiss comes inside.

Well, this is gonna be a very, very long day for him…

[iamthatonefangirl]

whiplash - nsfw winter soldier

disclaimer: uhh lowkey free use i'm ngl... so fully consensual although not explicitly stated. pre-established relationship. dark themes. read at your own discretion.

in my stories, the winter soldier is like an independent contractor and doesn't work for hydra ok. and his only name is james. plz humor me ok plz

~~~

the speed at which he grabbed you was sure to give you whiplash.

one second, you're sitting on the couch staring at your phone. the next, he's got you shoved against the wall, gripping your arms tightly behind you. you barely maintain your balance as he kicks your feet apart.

"rough day, huh?" you grit, although your voice is rough from the breathlessness of being grabbed and pushed so suddenly.

"shut up," he bites.

you turn your face to the side, letting your cheek press against the coldness of the drywall. you don't say anything else, but his demeanor says it all. clearly, something bad happened. not that he would ever tell you about it.

he presses his face close to yours where you're slightly turned towards him, resting his forehead against your temple. it's the only sense of closeness you think you're gonna get this round.

he breathes heavily into your ear as he smooths your hair over your opposite shoulder with his metal arm, then continuing to rest his elbow against the wall while seemingly petting your hair.

you can feel him grinding himself up against your lower back. damn him for being so tall, you think, but in situations like these where he has you caged where he wants you?

fuck, you love feeling him tower over you, reminding you of his power, his strength, all of it.

"fuck, James-"

"no," he growls into your ear. he pulls his head back briefly to look down at where he's got your arms pinned behind your back, before leaning into your ear again.

"here's how this is gonna go," he begins. "you're gonna stay right there, and you're gonna let me have my fun, you got that?"

you nod as best you can with your face pressed into the wall.

"what was that?" he questions.

"yes, sir," you correct yourself.

"good," he bites, before pulling both of his hands away to unbuckle his belt. you're pretty sure he's still got all of his gear on, not having taken off even his boots. which means he's still got all his guns and knives on him.

fuck, that's hot, you think.

he takes the belt and maneuvers it around your wrists, trapping them in place. you can feel the slight burn where the edges of the leather prick your skin, but you're absolutely not complaining.

your body moves easily with every movement he makes, adjusting without hesitation as he places both hands on your hips to pull them back, jutting your ass out while your head and shoulders stay pressed up against the wall.

he proceeds to push both your pants and underwear down and off so he can keep you spread to his satisfaction.

and when his fingers press themselves inside you, you're shocked at how wet you already are from practically nothing.

"that's right, that's a good girl," he murmurs into your ear, clearly reading your mind.

you know he can't actually read your mind, it's not an advantage that comes with being enhanced. but sometimes, you really get to wondering how he knows how to get you so riled up and how he makes you feel like you're on ecstasy.

he fucks you on two, then three of his fingers for what feels like no time at all before he's pulling back to rid himself of his own pants.

"stay," he reminds you. as if you would do anything to piss him off further right now. he pauses.

you nod your head again, giving him the go ahead.

he brings both hands to your hips once more before pushing himself in to the hilt. it always takes your breath away with how fucking deep he can get, you're not sure how your body can even manage-

you lose track of your thoughts as you let yourself just feel the way he takes you so roughly up against the wall, taking what he needs from you. you're happy to let him take out his frustrations on you anytime.

you don't hold back, letting out every moan and whine that comes to your lips, begging him, fuck, don't stop, don't stop...

he would live here, if he could, between your legs. fucking die for your pussy. kill any motherfucker who tried to come between you and him.

you can feel him getting sloppy, hear his grunts turn into soft whines. you begin to fidget, trying to encourage him to just move his hand, rub your clit, make you come-

he doesn't like that.

"told you... to take it," he heaves. "means you're gonna wait." you let out a soft cry, to which he responds by biting down on your neck.

you can feel the bruise from the bite forming as he finishes inside you.

you begin to whine as he pulls out of you and you feel his release dripping down the inside of your thighs.

his hands come back to your hair, pulling it behind your back, then grabbing hold of your bound hands by the leather of the belt around them.

“think I should leave you like this. bound and dripping.”

you whine at hearing that. he can’t, please no-

he chuckles low and deep in his chest.

“don’t worry, baby. got a lot more plans for you yet.”

~~~

ok sorry i thought of this while taking a quiz but i hope u liked it

masterlist

join my tag list

tagged:

@clavedelune @starfly-nicole @avengersfan25 @thewiselionessss @hextech-bros @a-book-lover-things @ruexj283 @mrsnikstan

[tonycries]

Gojo Satoru is a simp. A menace. A walking god complex wrapped in a designer coat and sunglasses, with infinity-level power and zero self-control when it comes to you.

Not the type to fall often—hell, he barely gives a shit about anything that isn’t sugar or saving the world—but you? One look and his entire brain rewired to say, “Hers. I’m hers.”

The man is down horrendously, and the kicker? He’s fine with it. Loves it, actually.

You walk into the room? His jaw’s on the floor.

You so much as glance his way? His pulse jumps like you just whispered “fuck me” in his ear.

He tries to play it cool, sunglasses down, grin all smug, leaning lazy-like against the wall—

But inside? Feral. Screaming. Brain cells? All on fire, all saying “Mine, mine, mine.”

He’s supposed to be untouchable—the strongest, the cockiest, the man with the answers and the power and the charm. But that first time you looked up and caught him staring like he’d never seen anything so goddamn beautiful—

Boom. Brain gone. Dick hard. Soul yours.

And when he realizes that you showed up with Naoya Zenin, he loses his goddamn mind.

It was a blind date, you’d said. Not serious. Just seeing where it goes.

Gojo hears that and thinks cool, I’ll kill him later.

Naoya’s fake smiling, showing off, trying way too hard, and Gojo sees right through him.

Knows he’s only there to flex. Knows he’s baiting him.

But Satoru’s not about to let some Zenin rat get the best of him. Oh no. He’s gonna make you laugh first.

So he shows up. Loud. Flashy. Sitting way too close.

Arm slung behind your chair, his voice low and smooth by your ear, breath hot against your skin.

“So… this the guy you’re risking your life with? You sure, pretty girl? Because I promise, you could do way better.”

You snort-laugh, can’t even cover it, and he sees stars.

You glance over your shoulder, smirking like sin.

“What, like you?”

He grins—filthy, bright, devastating.

“Exactly like me.”

Your eyes meet, heat between you electric, and for a second, it’s just you two, Naoya forgotten, tension crackling like a live wire between you.

You both know it’s not just flirting anymore.

And Gojo?

He’s fucking gone.

⸻

The Naoya thing dies quick. You didn’t like the vibe is what you tell Gojo and while that’s true…maybe the strongest played more of a role than you’d ever admit.

Even though it’s over, Gojo remembers.

Remembers you being with someone else.

Remembers him touching your lower back.

Remembers having to smile through it.

And when you offhandedly mention a hookup that came after?

“Didn’t count. Wasn’t good.”

Gojo stares at you like you shot him in the chest.

“Not good?”

You shrug, casual.

“Just one of those things. Whatever.”

Whatever.

WHATEVER.

He’s pacing now, running a hand through his hair, sunglasses off, eyes burning.

“Let me get this straight. Some loser got to have you—got to touch you—and didn’t absolutely worship the ground you walk on? Didn’t ruin you for anyone else? Didn’t even try?”

You blink. “I mean—”

He’s in your face, voice low and dangerous, frustrated but not with you—with his newest arch nemesis, the dumbass who got the opportunity of a lifetime and didn’t manage to make you cum ONCE. He hated this man with every fiber of his being.

“You should’ve been trembling. You should’ve been wrecked—blissed out, begging, ruined.”

You laugh—nervous, breathless.

He leans in more, grinning like he wants to ruin you now.

“I’d die to touch you like that. You think I’d let you walk away thinking it was just okay? Nah, baby. I’d make you feel it for days.”

His voice drops, hungry, heated—feral.

“One chance, pretty girl. One night. Let me show you what worship really feels like.”

You stare.

He smirks with that insufferable look in his eye and you end up stuffed to the brim, crying, breathless underneath him as he ruins you for anyone else and finally shows you he’s so much more than just talk. It’s hot, desperate, perfect.

When you’re tangled in his arms, voice hoarse from the screaming, lips swollen, covered in his marks (hand prints and hickeys), still delirious from all the orgasms, giggling from pure joy satisfaction - he thinks he’s going to die a happy man.

When you say, still breathless, “God, I adore you. We’re doing that again. A lot.”

He blinks. Stops breathing.

Adore? We? Again? A lot?

His brain explodes.

Heart gone. Ring finger itching.

He presses a kiss to your shoulder, smiling like a man who just found religion.

“Yeah, baby. A lot. Forever, if you want.”

Because Gojo doesn’t just want another night.

He wants all your mornings. Every damn one.

Oh HELLOOOOOO??? 😈 I need more of this right NEOW nonnie mmm this has me fed. Hehehe love Naoya being used as a lil' plot device...

[sleepincrow]

contains: toxic behaviour, toxic!reader this was itching my brain, idk what to tell you. i like having morally ambigious reader... or idk, is it too tame? i have no idea where the line meets and ends when it comes to dark shit cus i usually stay in the other side of the line. whenever i think of dark stuff its in a comedic-ish light and everything turns fluffy in the end idfk. tell me what else i should add in the warnings 😞

edit: i made it readable, i should really start readproofing.

hear me out..

reader who doesnt do anything when their boyfriend is mean. like theyre just generally pissed off and huffing at you when youre trying to greet them with open arms and a warm smile when they come home.

reader who doesnt confront them about their horrible behavior and how it affected them. no, just stay silent, take in whatever your boyfriend had to say or do and leave him be.

ohooooh, you mightve done nothing but youre going to give them something much worse than a silent treatment.

youre not a doormat. youre not a crybaby.

i want reader to be absolutely menacing. if that man doesnt come back crawling, apologizing to you, youre gonna make him.

do you understand me? the anger, the absolute disgust that bubbles in your stomach, that claws its way up your chest like an animal looking for a fresh breath of air before it starts to hunt.

youre silent all of the sudden, giving him the driest texts known to man, leaving him on seen with texts that dont technically need a reply instead of dragging the conversation longer with a picture of a cat you saw on your way home. youre picking up more work than usual, unable to cut some time, telling him youve got things to do—things more important than having to watch some tv with him, be in bed with him.

youre clever. you know your schedule, and you know his. rearrange everything, make sure to make as much commotion in your life that doesnt include him, so when he confronts you, youre technically telling the truth when you say youre busy.

because why bother coming home early, greeting him, surprising him with dinner and a loving kiss?

then watch it all go down. technically, youre not doing anything wrong, youve got your plate full with a screenshot of your planned calendar to pair with it as sweet, sweet evidence.

youre watching him slightly deteriorate. watch him panic. he'll buy you flowers, in which you put in a vase but never take care of like before. he'll buy you jewelry you wont wear because "theyre beautiful but i like the old ones too! ill wear them on a special occassion" that wont ever come.

the frustrated, panicked look on his face is priceless. it feels so good. he cant even be mad because youre not even cheating! you have all the alibis, all the witnesses. youre perfectly happy and sweet as before! just.. not as responsive, not as present. but thats not your fault, thats your job's!

if he pays for you, slowly start paying your half of everything. shows that you are stable and everything would be perfectly fine if he went up in left. in the end, thats why he got angry with you in the first place, right? he's so okay with being angry, not telling you his problems, that he can keep it to himself, right?

he doesnt need your lap to lay his head on, not your food that you prepare for him when he comes home, not the soft touches you leave on his overworked skin and definitely not the words that you coo at him everyday before he pissed you off.

make him know what the once delicious thought of takeout tastes like once he's left to fend for himself while you go out for overtime at work! trust me, its gonna taste a hell of a lot more bland, a lot more dull. depressing, really.

dont even get me STARTED on sex. (i wont, not now)

this is all justifiable, right? after all, this is how you communicate your feelings right? this is how you can show him how you felt when he showed you a cold shoulder at your warm embrace! let him have the full experience when you felt pathetic, miserable, useless.

plus, youre not wrong, arent you? you can leave whenever you want! who is he to tell you that you cant leave? as if he owns you—is that what he thinks? is that what he thinks of you? just a not-so-significant other that he can come home to whenever he wants and project his feelings unto?

no, no youre not. youre not gonna take that bullshit. he can roll it up, pack it in a bag and beat it if thats what he's thinking. no, both of you are holding an end of a rope in this relationship. a big, thick rope which you can cut off with that large ass scissor you both have.

this is just you telling him, reminding him that you can cut it whenever you like! its not threatening, not manipulation, straight truth! you CAN leave any relationship you like! its his problem if he doesnt like it, right?

your poor little boyfriend has to get his act together! start thinking straight! unless he wants to deal with your unyielding, harsh wrath for the rest of his soon-to-be miserable life.

after all, he made the first threat to your relationship, right? its just a reminder!

[emmyrosee]

happy birthday @reverie-starlight thank u for always screaming with me 🥹🩷

——-

Even asleep, you recognize the familiar rumble of his motorcycle, and you stir happily at the noise. Your neighbors will be pissed at such a loud disruption so early, but you can’t find it to care all that much.

What matters is Baji is outside your window right now, revving his engine to make you stir.

Your phone buzzes, being the finale of waking you up at such an early hour, and you paw for the device to silence it and eagerly talk to your boyfriend.

“Hi,” you mumble.

“Hey birthday girl,” he says softly, the purr of his engine running in the background. “How’d you sleep?” You mewl softly in response, stretching and letting your newly wakening muscles pop to life. He chuckles, “that good huh?”

“Mmhm,” you agree, pressing the heel of your palm to your eye to wake you up more. “What’re you doing here so early? Lunch isn't for a few hours.”

“I know lunch isn't for a few hours,” he snorts.

You grin, "well, I was worried you might've forgotten how to read clocks again."

"Watch your mouth, missy," he hisses playfully. Then, he sighs dramatically, “I was too excited to see my pretty girlfriend on her birthday, so I was riding around and didn’t know if she wanted to come watch the sunrise with me and get a little breakfast after.”

You smile and tuck your knees to your chest, biting your lip at the thought of him wanting to do something so romantic with you, first thing in the morning. Keisuke’s never been one for massive displays of affection, he’s always done little, meaningful gestures to live rent free in your head, and you always know when he’s involved, it’s going to be beyond special. “Okay,” you hum happily.

“Sunrise is in 45, bring a jacket, it’s cold.”

“Can’t I just steal yours?” You ask.

He groans, making you giggle, “you know you’re a brat, right?”

“It smells like you,” you defend.

“Just come down the stairs, you troublemaker,” he snickers. You laugh, and you smile as neither of you make a move to hang up the phone, simply enjoying being on call with each other and knowing that you’ll listen if you speak. “You still there?”

“Yeah,” you confess.

“Good,” he chuckles. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you whisper.

“Get that pretty ass in gear. We’ve got a sunrise to catch.” With that, he ends the call.

You do as you’re told, swinging your legs out of bed to throw on a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, eyes still glossy from adjusting to the wake up process. You peek outside, the sky purpling and starting to water color hues to indicate the earliest of morning sun. You toe on a pair of slippers that you know he’ll scold you for, “gonna have to buy you a new pair, they’ll get ruined, ya need to use that pretty brain once in a while” (he’s never actually minded buying you a thing a day in his life) and you quickly make your way down to him. He looks good, thumb scrolling through his phone and leaning against the bike you've grown so attached to, and long black strands tied back in a pony tail that sways just barely in the wind. You squeal softy in excitement, getting his attention, and the smirk you love so much splays on his face as he pockets his phone and opens his arms for you to run into.

You do, laughing as he catches you and grunts in faux-effort to squeeze you tight, rocking you both back and forth as if you haven't seen each other in days.

It's only been a few hours.

But when he holds you so preciously, it feels like eons.

"Fuck you look so good," he rasps, kissing your head.

You snort, "I literally just rolled out of bed."

"And? Your point?"

You don't say anything, opting instead to reel back and catch his lips in a kiss, mewling as he returns the affection. He tastes like toothpaste and the pomegranate lip balm the guys tease him for, lips soft as they kiss you but tongue teasing as you get lost in each other. His hands find their way to your waist, big thumbs swiping over the tender bones and god, you feel yourself absolutely melting into him.

"I love you," he murmurs.

"I know," you purr.

He pulls back hesitantly, like he's never going to kiss you again and he wants to savor it, sinking his teeth into his lip and looking at the skyline, just a tad lighter from the sun desperate to start emerging. Then, he turns back to you, eyes looking you up and down in a way that has your mind turning into mush. You smile at him and he presses a peck to your lips, "you think the sun'll give me a few extra minutes to kiss you?"

In truth, you want to say screw the sunrise and stay here forever, stuck in this moment with him and just being completely and utterly in love. The sun'll be there forever, it'll be there this afternoon and tomorrow, and the day after that and for years to come.

But there's only one Keisuke Baji. And no kiss with him is like the last, like kissing him is always for the first time and you're drunk in excitement and lost for words and all you want to do is kiss him over and over and over again.

You snicker and let your gaze fall to his lips, swelling subtly from the kiss you shared, and you shrug, "maybe if you threaten it, tough guy."

"For you, baby?" He grins, snatching you up tighter.

"I'll do anything."

[razorblade180]

New Companion

Yang:*doing pushups*

Ruby:*on top of her*

Blake:Twenty more.

Yang:You’re gonna kill me…

Weiss:*eye closed*

Yang:What’s she doing?

Ruby:She said she was training but hasn’t moved.

Blake:Meditation is a form of training, but there’s probably more to it.

Weiss….*opens eyes* Let’s do this.

She points at the ground a couple feet ahead of her and creates a bright glyph outlined with a pattern of thorns and leaves along the rim. Slowly, the glyph starts to spin in place until all marks become a blur of white.

Weiss:Come on…

Yang:Is she trying to summon something?

Ruby:I think so. I bet it’s a manticore!

Blake:I think that glyph is a little small for that. Maybe an Apathy?

Yang:Please no. I can’t imagine a worse thing to-

A hand rises from the glyph and slams itself onto the dirt. Sharp nails drag themselves closer before another hand rises to do the same. They push down on their surroundings for leverage until the world is greeted with a distorted yell of a Jabberwock clawing its way into existence.

Weiss:Phew

Yang:Give me Apathy. Anything but this.

Ruby:You can do that!?

Weiss:I hope you all realize you’re pretty loud.

Blake:I hope you realize you just made a hell spawn

Weiss:So are grimm, and the both of these technically come from the same origin. Thought I’d try my luck.

Yang:Can you kill the dragon on Beacon?

Weiss:In my dreams maybe.

Jabberwock: *sits politely*

Blake:This feels wrong. Cool, but very wrong. Be sure to use it when nobody expects it.

Weiss:Oh absolutely. Now then, I gotta find Jaune. Last thing he needs his a jumpscare.

Yang:Imagine if you could summon the cat?

WR:No way in hell.

Ruby:Glad we knew where the line was. I never need to see that cat eyed freak again.

Blake:I wouldn’t say that so loud in Vacou if I were you.

Weiss:I’ll say it for her.

Blake:….The Ever After was not kind to you both.

[irrealisms]

#alwayssss thinking about season 4#hey Will how long till zam mis says “vitality” as “vitalasy” ?#<- prev#life stealers give me context zams my new microwave victim and I'd love context to his angst (tags from @ultra-raging-ghost)

hiiiii yes ok i am a lifesteal fan who Specializes in zam and s4 and vitalazam. NOTE FOR LIFESTEAL FANS: this is gonna be super simplified and condensed sometimes to the point of mild inaccuracy, please don't come at me, i just want this to be reasonably short. NOTE FOR REALM FANS: please spread this i love talking about zam and she doesn't always like talking about lifesteal s4 but it's such important context for literally everything she does. imo.

so! when talking to badboyhalo, zam mentioned that she Doesn't Do Betrayals. this is.... largely because of how s4 of lifesteal went. during s4, zam betrayed or otherwise let down almost every other person on the server at some point (including pangi, but that's a story for another time). the betrayal with the most fallout was vitalasy/eclipse federation. after weeks of trying to compromise (zam was morally opposed to exploits and exploiting whereas vitalasy had a huge season-spanning plan involving exploits), zam discovered that vitalasy was hiding the extent of the exploits and ended up killing and betraying vitalasy. vitalasy....went back and forth quite a bit on how he responded to this. there were a lot of very long very intense arguments ingame. due to vitalasy's exploits, he could do creative-mode flying, and he could kill people with a punch rather than needing a weapon; he sometimes utilized this, both against zam and to spawnkill one of zam's new teammates. ultimately, though, vitalasy didn't want to hurt people and felt incredibly guilty and unhappy about people finding him scary or dangerous; he wasn't able to take zam's anger and fear and the anger and fear of the rest of the server, and he got IRL upset, started crying, killed himself in-game until he was banned off lifesteal, and took a break from minecraft altogether. (they're fine IRL and have been this whole time, and they had a beautiful in-game reconciliation last december where they talked about it, but s4 was. painful for a lot of people at the time.)

and after talking to badboyhalo, zam explicitly drew this comparison!

also, bonus fact, along with being a PG (...well, PG-13) streamer who used to "language!" zam, vitalasy's skin looks like this:

as previously mentioned this is absolutely an oversimplification tbh but there's A Lot and i don't want to overwhelm. if you want more, you can ask me, you can check out myrmica's season 4 vod directory, or if you're up to watch edited videos but not a vod, here's vitalasy's edited video of the betrayal through banning himself & zam's edited video of pre-betrayal through end of server. warning that the edited videos are very biased and have a lot of post hoc narrativization or outright lying/omitting things; they're a good starting point for getting the general idea of what went down, the feelings and people involved, etc, but they should not be taken as the full truth. also both the vod directory and zam's video have pangi if that sweetens the pot at all! the vod directory is much more accurate and in-depth but it's also long, the vods it links are longer, and i don't remember if it assumes some level of preexisting familiarity with lifesteal s4 and the people who play on it. and, again, feel free to ask if you have any questions or want lifesteal context on anything zam or pangi do, i was DELIGHTED to see these tags bc i love talking about my guys :D

Zam: you'd be more likeable if you didn't tell people youre holding back the urge to kill them!!!! Bad, sadly: okay.... that's what people tell me all the time, I share my thoughts with them and they say bad you're scary :(( Zam: I'm not falling for this guilt trip! Bad: [sits with his head down] its okay... I'm used to it... :(( Zam: ...... I'm falling for the guilt trip. Bad: its okay you don't need to :( Zam: he looks so small, this is a completely different person.