#everyone drew their own balloon

[fishinsp4ce]

Happy birthday guys

Happy Homestuck day everyone!!!

[qwimchii]

i was hoping to put forward a request, if that’s okay? 👉🏻👈🏻 angst (or hurt/comfort?) and smut with ghost? and i’m totally not projecting here but — reader has a hard time finishing, either by themselves or with someone? and when they’re with someone, they get so worried about taking too long and not being able to finish or even feeling good and they apologize for taking too long and it dissolves into them crying and apologizing more and mentioning how they think they’re broken and there’s something wrong with them and it kinda makes them think ghost will leave for someone else because that’s what everyone else has done and basically just ghost being soft and sweet and understanding and taking his time with reassurance and praise and yeah… gonna go hide now 🥲

𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 — 𝘚𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘙𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘺

𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘹 𝘤𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘯!𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 — 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘰𝘺𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘣𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘣𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘸𝘤 — 5k

𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘦 — 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵, 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴/𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘴 — 𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘱𝘭𝘰𝘵, 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵𝘥𝘰𝘮!𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵, 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘬, 𝘤𝘶𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘴, 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘵 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺, 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵/𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵, 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯, 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘱𝘦𝘵 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴, 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥…

note: omllllll!!!! 💞 i am so sorry for taking so long to write this request but this is so sweet and cute 😭 thank you sm for requesting!! ><

pt 2, pt 3

Simon Riley had been your boyfriend for maybe a month now. or maybe two weeks. or maybe three months, you decided finally, sipping your water with closed eyes, willing the frustrated bounce of your knee to settle.

of course, picking your head up and looking at the entrance of the restaurant one last time, that frustration redoubled, and you watched your knee bounce with a mind of its own.

setting the drink back on its coaster, you drew random patterns into the floral tablecloth with a pout. Simon had chosen this restaurant. Simon had initiated communication with you—mindblowing as it was—just last night when you were scrolling through instagram in bed. 

the notification had ballooned over a post of an old friend from college traveling in europe, and immediately, you had squealed, pressing your phone to your chest to stop the race of your thrumming heart. you made yourself count out two minutes—at least two, before you responded.

— Dinner tmrw at the diner on 6th ave?

— sure!! good to hear from you :))

— what time??

— 7.

it was curt, it was short, it was sweet, but it gave you all the motivation you needed to power through the day and weasel your way into the diner, earlier to the occasion than usual. now, it was half past seven. now, you were playing with the tablecloth of the booth and feeling stupid and sorry for yourself.

stupid because you had sorely missed Simon since he went radio silent for over a month. sorry for yourself because you had thought you were at least close enough for him to text you beforehand.

definitively, you knew you had met the brit five months ago when he moved into the empty apartment adjacent to your own. he crowded every entrance he stood in, so massive and hulking when the elevator doors that you startled with a squeak, dropping the cardboard box and all the items scattering out over the carpet floor.

you had flushed with embarrassment, whole body heating up as you scrambled to stuff all the items back into the box with a string of apologies. he had dropped to your side without a word, putting back a pair of socks, your old band t-shirt from high school, and tennis shoes that had gone gray with discoloration. he hadn’t even bothered to one-over your personal items, but you were scrambling for an explanation anyway.

“donations for vets,” you said with nervous laughter. “i donate every year.”

“vets?” he reiterated, and you looked up into his face, eyeing the black surgical mask on his face carefully, brown eyes a murky kind of gray-ish beneath blonde eyebrows and his hood drawn up above that. 

“mhmm,” you squeaked, suddenly wary of the stranger in front of you.

when he said nothing more, you asked him, “any veterans in the family?”

then he just stared at you and you blushed, feeling stupid for saying anything at all but—

“my grandfather,” he said slowly. “and my great grandfather.”

“nice,” you choked out, unsure what to say as you searched the carpet of the last of your remnants.

then, he added, “i’m in the military as well.”

just when you were about to bolt, intimidated by the sheer size of him and his eerie unfamiliar presence in your apartment complex, it was like he read your mind to introduce himself.

“Simon Riley. new neighbor.”

you nodded slowly, giving him your name back and edging your fingers under the cardboard box, heaving it up into your arms.

“nice to meet you,” you said, giving him a weak smile from over the top of the box. he tilted his head at you, eyes flitting from the box to you.

when a prolonged silence ensued, you turned on your heel and stepped toward the elevator before you jerked around again.

“thank you for your service,” you squeaked, scurrying toward the elevator and feeling awkward when he just watched you from the hallway. you waved as the doors closed, watching him slip his hands into the pockets of his jeans. 

with one long look, he turned and prowled down the hallway.

that was five months ago. two months later, after endless awkward encounters of wordless greetings with him, the plumbing in your bathroom sink had exploded, flooding the floor in a puddle of water and spraying over the front of your white dress.

in a panic, you went to your next door neighbor Simon who opened the door upon your third set of rapid knocks.

you looked up to his massive form in the entrance, suddenly aware of how the front of your soaked dress had become sheer when you asked him to help you. 

he helped. and then you asked him to get drinks at the bar around the corner as a thank you. then when that became a regular occurrence, things just got more confusing.

it felt exclusive. maybe. you thought it felt exclusive when a man approached you in the bar, gearing up for a casual conversation with a sly smirk, but Simon was always at your back in an instant, a large, warm hand on your waist and his words in your ear.

she’s taken.

your mind spun after the first time it happened. taken?

whirling around on your heel after the man left with a low grumble and scowl, Simon just blinked down at you from behind his surgical mask, squeezing your waist with both hands before he was sinking back down into his seat, hulking as he leaned over the bar.

when the same happened a few more times, you didn’t question it, thinking it was maybe just a perk of the friendship. he staves off a couple creepy men at the bar and you pay for drinks. 

or at least that’s how you thought it worked until he started sliding his card across the counter to the bartender to claim the tab before you could even get a word out.

you were especially confused when he knocked at your apartment door one night. you opened it to find him void of the hoodie usually slung up and over his head, blonde hair hanging down his forehead, and a black shirt in its place. that’s when you saw the thick black ink winding down the tattoo sleeve of his arm, and your eyes darted over it with a blush, before you were inviting him in.

he had smelled something baking, he clarified, craning his neck into the kitchen. that made you giddy because you hadn’t taken him for someone nosy, but you entertained it nonetheless, assuming he just had an insatiable sweet tooth for cookies.

another part of you hoped he just had a sweet tooth for you.

then the baking became a regular occurrence. you’d bake him all sorts of sweets while he watched you from the little table in your kitchen, staring from behind that black mask of his while you prattled about your day and he took it all in silently. somewhere along the way, after so many nights of him chewing behind the mask, he ditched it completely, and you could watch him devour your brownies in a few bites without the annoying fabric in the way.

the new schedule had become very regular until it was baking night and he didn’t show up to your door. rolling the tenseness from your shoulders, you sent him a quick text, saying you would bring over the sweets in the morning to his apartment.

when he didn’t respond to that, a little nervous bubble of anxiety rooted in your chest. you found out from your landlord days later that Simon would be away for work, and that hurt more than you wanted it to. if he had taken the time to at least notify your landlord, he could’ve done the same for you… couldn’t he?

unless he didn’t think about you that way. but you were so sure—from the quick glances you shared, his gentle touches as he brushed past you in your kitchen, or the possessive grip on your waist at the bar, or just the way he was so relaxed around you meant something.

those were your thoughts that ran in circles as you sat at the diner booth. the waiter checked on your table every once and a while, sending you nervous glances ever since you said that you had a date… or a friend. or something like that.

you felt stupid for accepting Simon’s proposal so quickly, even after he had ghosted you for weeks. even then, you had dolled yourself up anyways, picking out the new dress you got last weekend and doing your hair and makeup. you buried your face in your hands, not looking up when you heard the chime of the diner opening.

when you heard a familiar, low and grating accent, your head snapped up to see Simon standing by the entrance and talking to the waiter, gesturing to you as the waiter just nodded.

Simon strode over to you, a duffle bag slung over his shoulder and dressed in his military fatigues, half his face behind in a black surgical mask.

you couldn’t help the gasp that escaped you when you reached your senses, heart soaring as you scrambled to stand. your hands twitched against the table when he stopped in front of you, dropping his duffle bag to the floor.

had he come straight from the airport? for you? you felt like your mind was spinning, but you forced it to still, desperately not wanting to jump to any strange conclusions…

swallowing down your thoughts, you said slowly, “it’s been a while.”

looking up into his murky brown eyes had never been so comforting.

“it has,” he affirmed, hands clenching and unclenching by his sides.

for a long moment, you both just stood there in silence, staring at each other and unsure what to do.

eyes darting down to his torso, you could feel the warmth of his body in the close proximity, and you felt so tempted to just touch him.

you outstretched a hand to brush over his clothing, and when he didn’t move away, you pressed your knuckles into his abdomen, amazed to feel him solid and real. then you wrapped yourself around his torso, giving him a tight hug, cheek pressed against his strong chest.

immediately, he engulfed you, squeezing you back.

“missed you,” you admitted, screwing your eyes shut.

you felt his nose press into the crown of your hair. “m’sorry m’late, love.” 

“s’fine,” you sniffled, feeling stupid when tears pricked up in your eyes. when you pulled back, you swiped at them with the back of your hand, startled when he reached forward to brush his fingers across your wet cheeks, squishing the chub of your face lightly.

he looked at you with such a softness that you almost melted, feeling nervous because you had never seen him look at you like that before.

then, as you both slid into the booth, you chided him in between sniffles, “don’t do that to me again.”

don’t leave me in the dark again, was what you meant, and you knew he understood what you meant when he nodded curtly.

the dinner went smoothly. more than you could imagine. or maybe you were just overwhelmed with the exhausting joy that Simon was still just the same since before he left two months ago—lowly grunted non-verbal responses as he munched on a platter of fish and chips, stealing a couple of your fries after he devoured his plate at a startling pace, and some rumbles of half-sentences, leaning on his elbow as he watched you ramble with excitement and sip on your milkshake every now and then.

when you accidentally got a smidge of whipped cream on your nose, he reached across the table to wipe it off, cutting through your words mid-sentence. you thanked him with a blush, shifting over the booth, just blushing harder when your shoes knocked against his under the table.

leaving felt smooth too—walking back to the apartment complex just a couple blocks away. even in the darkness of the night, you felt safe tucked near his side, enjoying his presence so close to your side and feeling disappointed when you reached the hallway you shared in the apartment complex.

he stopped by your door and you fumbled with your dress, struggling for words.

“come inside,” you offered, though it sounded more like a plea. your eyes flitted from his face to the duffle bag on his shoulder, hands twisting into the fabric of your dress.

“i know you must be tired but—”

“m’not,” he assured, squaring his shoulders. you nodded dumbly.

“i can bake brownies?” you squeaked, and he blinked down at you.

“s’reason why i’m here, love.”

at that you blushed, opening the apartment and throwing your jacket on the couch, moving to rifle through the kitchen.

“it won’t take long i promise,” you called from behind the fridge door, snatching the butter and eggs from it.

closing the door to turn to the counter, you jolted when Simon materialized beside you, boots, mask, and the jacket of his fatigues off, reaching above you to open a cabinet. your eyes darted over the ink designs of his muscled arm.

“flour and sugar’s here, right?” he asked, and you squeaked a yes, ducking beneath his arm to put the butter and eggs on the counter before grabbing a mixing bowl and baking pan from a lower cabinet.

once all the necessary items were strewn across the counter, you measured out the dry ingredients, dumping them into the mixing bowl. beside you, Simon leaned back against the edge of the kitchen sink, arms crossed as he watched you.

you were hyper-aware of his presence, hands jittery, confused because he always sat at the kitchen table to watch you. he never got this close and personal, uncrossing his arms to slide a hand over the counter right by where your hip leaned against it.

from your peripheral, you glanced at him, finding him already staring down at you.

“can i help?” he asked, voice gruff, and you turned your head to stare at him in dismay. this was new. very new.

“sure,” you choked out, scooting over so he could help you measure out the ingredients. he filled the space easily, arm pressed against yours in the little space.

you blushed. this was very very new.

he cracked an egg on the edge of the bowl, and you watched the yellow glop plop into the flour.

playing off the whole situation as a joke, you laughed nervously as you mixed the wet ingredients into the bowl. “miss my baking that much?”

you bit down on your lip, unable to look at him, just focusing on the churn of brown batter in the mixing bowl. when you felt him lean in, his strong bicep against yours, you muffled a yelp.

“‘course.”

“really?” you asked, pouring the batter into the greased up pan.

for good measure, you dipped a finger into the batter and tasted it, eyes flickering up to Simon. it was sweet.

he stared down at you, an imperceptible, dark look on his face as he leaned over and dipped his thumb into the batter, then swiped the gooey brown substance over your cheek.

“oops.” there was a smugness in his voice that his face smothered, expression blank when he gripped your jaw tight. 

you gasped when he turned your face and leaned down to lick you.

the textured muscle of his tongue pressed into the curve of your flesh, licking away the sweet taste from your cheek.

then, he leaned back with a hum. “i like sweet things.”

you clutched at his wrist keeping your jaw firmly in place, wide-eyed and heart beating out of your chest. you watched his finger dip back in the batter and reached up to your lips, spreading the sugary sweet batter over your lower lip.

you squeaked, unable to look anywhere but his bare face, rugged and handsome in the low light.

“may i?” he asked, eyes flitting down to your lips, and you couldn’t even nod in his hold, just a low, breathy yes on your lips that he swallowed, tongue sucking the traces of batter on your lips. 

you whimpered into his mouth, clutching at his shirt as he angled your head with a soft touch, sliding his hand on your jaw to your neck, just resting there. that spurred on a familiar burn in your stomach, and you squirmed in his hold.

when he leaned back, you were breathless and panting with flushed cheeks.

“sweet,” he rasped, like he was approving the taste as he licked over his lips.

from that point on, you didn’t really remember how you got to your bedroom, Simon’s hands edging up the hem of your dress beneath him, knuckles drawing a warm trail up to your hips as he sucked on the skin of your neck.

the only thing you could do was whine and squirm under his weight, legs and arms pinning you down as he did what he liked, giving you sweet kisses that made you feel all hazy.

you watched his head dip beneath the fabric of your dress and you gasped when you felt his lips against your thighs, skipping where you needed him most, and then against your stomach and the flesh of your breasts.

and all throughout the pleasurable haze, your fingers curled into the sheets, nails digging into the bed because you were beyond nervous.

you knew this would happen eventually—that Simon would end up in your bed or the other way around. kissing him was a dream. having him caging you against the bed with his heady weight was a dream.

sliding a hand over his back, his rushed movements slowed against your skin, taking the time to suck carefully around your pebbled nipples that had your hips bucking up with a whimper.

your mind spun. but you were so nervous.

it was all you could think about as he descended back down between your thighs, both of his big arms curling around your thighs to lock you in place against the bed.

words rung your mind loud and clear—what the hell is wrong with you?

when Simon dipped a thumb beneath the top of your panties, the words shook you again.

what the hell is wrong with you?

you hadn’t even noticed how still and quiet you had grown until his head perked up between your thighs, pupils blown wide. he swiped a thumb over the soaking entrance of your panties, drawing a whimper from your throat.

“what is it?” he asked, voice so throaty and rough that you shivered with want. you had wanted this for so long.

“nothing,” you whispered, tugging his head back down between your thighs, but he didn’t budge, frowning at you.

“tell me,” he probed, “m’not touchin’ you if you don’t, sweet thing.”

sweet thing.

swallowing hard, you shifted against the bed. “m’just nervous.”

“yeah?” he stroked the plush, soft skin of your inner thigh, before pressing his lips to it. “don’t worry. i’ll make you feel good.”

you nodded, biting down on your lip, though his words didn’t quell any of the raging anxiety thrumming within your chest, even when he kissed the wet fabric stretched over your cunt, nosing through your folds and his hot breath against you.

lifting up your hips with ease, he tugged a pillow beneath you.

“comfy?” he asked, hooking two fingers beneath your panties and sliding it down your thighs.

“uh-huh,” you gasped, back arching when he ducked between your legs and pressed the pink muscle of his tongue flat against your cunt.

“good,” he grunted against you, pecking your swollen clit before swirling his tongue around it, and building a steady, delicious pace that had you hiccuping moans.

your hands snaked through his hair, gripping the blonde curls tight and pulling, startling when he groaned in response, the tremors going straight from the back of his throat and into your clit.

you ground against his face and he purred in approval. “tha’s it, sweet thing.” 

you took the pleasure and rode it, pushing yourself further and further to the edge, or at least you thought you were, seeing no end in sight for the sensations wracking your body. every passing moment felt too long, and you could practically feel the irritation roiling off Simon in waves.

even though you couldn’t see his face, just could hear his soft noises of approval against your cunt, it was like you knew he was growing impatient.

frustrated, you huffed a whine, that anxiety in your chest squashing half the pleasurable experience. he reached up and pressed down on the lower part of your tummy, intensifying it all over again, making you gasp as your head fell back.

“relax,” he mumbled, playing with your clit as he pressed his tongue into your cunt, humming as he tasted you.

it was overwhelming. too overwhelming, and you couldn’t help the tears that pricked up in your eyes as you were torn between finishing and feeling good and pleasing Simon and—

a little sob broke from your throat, and he went still between your legs.

you covered your face with your hands, digging your palms into your eyes and muffled the sounds falling from your lips.

why were you crying?

brows pinched together, you scrunched up your face. “sorry, sorry, just keep going—”

you cut off when a sob choked your throat, refusing to look at Simon and withering when he stayed silent, feeling really fucking stupid as you just cried in the bed.

“i don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you whimpered, feeling him tug your dress back down over your thighs and hike your panties back up your hips.

you expected him to leave, ready to feel the weight of him against you on the bed disappear, and his heavy footsteps through the apartment, then the slam of the door behind him.

and you did—the dip in the bed lifted and you heard his footsteps edge around the bed.

then, you gasped when he slid into the bed beside you, arm circling beneath your waist and pulling you flush to his chest, breath right against your ear.

“what’s wrong, sweet thing?” he sighed, though it didn’t sound irritated, just tired as he sunk into the bed beside you.

your breath stilled, the cries dying in your throat as you twisted to look back at him. his gaze was soft as he peered over your shoulder, squeezing you between both arms.

“what?” you croaked, and he leaned over you to press a kiss to your cheek, squishing you into the bed.

“what’s wrong?” he repeated, thumb drawing circles against your clothed tummy.

“nothing,” you said, and he made a low noise of disapproval, pressing his face against the side of your head.

clutching at his arms holding your waist, caging you to him, you choked out the words. 

“i just…” you turned your head from him, tears spilling from your eyes and onto the sheets. “i wanna be good for you.”

he hummed against your ear, squeezing you tighter. “you are so good for me, love.”

“no, i meant…” you huffed, sniffling with a frustrated sound in the back of your throat.

“i take too long,” you squeaked, avoiding his eyes. “there’s something wrong with me.”

a sob pierced your chest. “i think i’m broken.”

you turned in his arms and buried your face in his chest, embarrassed as you soaked his shirt with tears, muffled the sharp noises of your throat against his solid body. he curled around you, hand rubbing down your back.

“who put those ideas in your pretty head?”

his voice was deceptively soft, though you heard the threat that lay under it, and you shivered.

“my ex boyfriend.”

his body went tense against you.

“look at me luvie.”

you lifted your head and let him kiss you, tasting salty and sweet from the slick of you still in his mouth, as he brushed away the tears on your face.

when he pulled back and you looked over the curves of his face, the depth of his dark eyes, you admitted to him softly, “i don’t want you to leave me.”

it was such a small whimper that you don’t think he would’ve heard you, but from the way his face crunched into a frown you knew that he had.

“m’not going anywhere,” he promised, pushing the hair from your forehead. “m’right here.”

you whimpered, pulling him back down for a kiss that was wet and hot, teeth knocking against yours when he pressed you further into the bed.

“lemme make you feel good,” he whispered, and you clutched at his arm wound tight around your waist, the other creeping up to cup your breast.

“please,” you whimpered, and he hummed into your lips.

“when’s the last time you touched yourself?” he asked, lips trailing down to your neck, his large hand edging down to brush over your pelvis.

“long time,” you squeaked, gasping when his hand snuck beneath your dress, rucking it up so it pooled around your waist.

“c-can’t do it myself,” you admitted, screwing your eyes shut when his fingers slipped beneath the band of your panties. “doesn’t feel good.”

“yeah? bet your ex couldn’t make you feel good either,” he mumbled, either to you or yourself you couldn’t tell, mind dizzy and somewhere up high when his forefinger gently brushed over the shell of your clit. “bet your he didn’t even know how to touch a woman. how to make her cum.”

you whimpered, hips bucking into his hand, and you could feel him smile against your neck.

“s’okay, baby. i’ll make you cum.”

his fingers circled your swollen clit, other hand fondling the sensitive plush of your tits. as you squirmed against his touch, little breathy noises leaving your lips, you could feel his hard cock pressing into the curve of your ass. you whimpered at the sheer size of it.

“please, Simon,” you gasped, clutching at his wrist as he played and flicked at your clit, speeding up then slowing down and dragging you through a slew of different body wracking sensations, leaving you so whiney and sensitive that your thighs started to shake and twitch.

your ex boyfriend had never given you so much attention like this—just honing in on his own pleasure, degrading you when you tried to chase your own. it became something you dreaded. something you didn’t want and forced yourself through, faking orgasms and artificial, pitched moans.

it was so different from Simon that you felt delirious, blissed out as real, loud whines broke through your throat, riding his hand just wanting more and more.

“more,” you sobbed, burying your face into the sheets, jolting when he played and pinched at your swollen nipples.

“want you to cum on my hand first, sweet thing,” he whispered, and you almost cried real tears.

he huffed a laugh into your ear.

“feel that good?” he cooed, and you nodded against the sheets, wiggling your hips in his hand.

“c-can’t,” you whined, shivering when he made a noise of disapproval.

“yes you can,” he said, low and throaty, licking over your ear. “i don’t care how long it takes, baby. i can play with this pretty cunt all night.”

you moaned, grinding down into his hand, eyes rolling back into your head as he abused your clit, crushing it beneath his fingers.

“you’re gonna cum on my hand, and then i’m gonna stretch you out with my fingers, yeah? then you’re gonna cum on my fingers, and i’m gonna fuck two more orgasms out of you. how does that sound, sweet thing?”

“Simon—” you choked, whole body going still when you finally reached a sharp peak, shaking and twitching and moaning softly through your whole orgasm that made you see a blinding white.

he groaned in your ear, so filled with pleasure it sounded like he came alongside you.

“there you go, baby, good girl. so good f’me.”

your hearing felt muffled when you resurfaced, blinking your eyes open, sleepy and muscles lax against the bed. he was petting at your naval, peppering little kisses and kitten licks along your neck and shoulders.

“see? that wasn’t so hard, luvie,” he whispered in your ear, making a shiver slither down your spine.

“mhmm,” was all you could get out, pliable as he slipped from your side and moved you to your back, tipping your knees open as he dove between your legs.

you looked down, watching him drink up the cum from your pussy, slurping loudly and sucking on your twitchy clit, your hips squirming in his hold. 

“so sweet,” he practically growled, and you whined in response, trying to push his head away.

when he finally relented, he sat back, licking over his lips before tugging the shirt over his head. in the dim lighting, you could see scars littered over him, naval blessed with dark hair and a toned stomach that made your mouth water.

“think you can do that four more times, baby?”

when you shook your head, he only smirked, crawling back over you and pressing the crotch of his fatigues against your sopping pussy, grinding his painfully hard, big cock against your aching entrance.

“yes you can,” he said, low and throaty. “m’gonna make you, sweet thing. you’re gonna be coming on this cock all night long.”

taglist: @ivybeeloved

[filled-with-fat]

My weight skyrocketed at College 🫢

When I moved away to college at 18, I was an athletic, healthy young man. In high school, I had played on the football team, and had always been into working out and staying fit. But this all changed when I moved away to college.

I was allocated self-catered accommodation, which meant for the first time in my life I had to cook my own meals. At home, my mum would always make me healthy, nutritious foods. But I definitely underestimated how time consuming it is to cook. As the weeks progressed, I got fed up with having to make myself my own meals, and so I would order food. I fell into really bad habits; staying out till sunrise, and then ordering takeout throughout the day. I stopped attending my classes, as I just couldn’t be bothered to walk across campus. Instead I would lay in bed, scrolling through TikTok, awaiting my next McDonald’s delivery. I would order at least 4 takeouts a day.

I quickly became hooked to this lifestyle. Binge drinking on the weekends, and bed rotting during the week, gorging on unhealthy fast food. And with every week that passed, I began to notice my body enlarge. My belly grew outwards, stretch marks appeared across my mid-section, and cheeky layers of fat hung off my sides and back. My hips widened, whilst my thighs and butt started to look revoltingly big.

I had turned into a chubby freshman, and I desperately needed an intervention from my friends to help me loose weight. I asked my college roommate, Daniel, who frequently went to the gym, if I could come with him. But, rather than encouraging me to get more active, Daniel convinced me into thinking laying in bed all day eating pizza was better for my wellbeing/overall happiness. I was easily persuaded into believing that my current eating habits were healthy. And so I continued to order excessive amounts of takeout, and sometimes Daniel would even bring me McDonald’s back from his workout. We would sit on my bed together, and I would devour a BigMac in under 5 minutes.

I rapidly outsized all my clothes, to which Daniel bought me a new sets of T-shirts and pants (in size 4xl of course).

As I grew bigger, I became more self-conscious of my weight and how I appeared in public. I was always a shy guy, and never liked attention. Yet, as I got fatter, my size drew attention, as I would struggle to walk even a few steps, or get out of breath from climbing a flight of stairs. I began to dread leaving my dorm, as I knew I would have to deal with the stares and sneers from everyone on campus. Whereas in my room, I felt like royalty. Daniel would praise my body, he would say how beautiful my curves and rolls of fat were. As I grew bigger, he showed more and more interest in me. He couldn’t keep his hands off me, saying just how much he adored my obese body. And so, I kept eating, as I craved Daniel’s attention and attraction.

By the end of freshman, I had ballooned to over 450lbs. I got so big, that even sitting up, or rolling over in bed, had me wheezing. But I was so attached to this lifestyle, there was no braking free. I kept on gaining weight, with every mouthful of greasy, calorific food I consumed. All to please Daniel. And the bigger I got, the more time he spent with me. He loved feeling my body, placing his lubricated hands over my enormous chest, squeezing my love handles and fat hips. I craved his attention, and so naturally I felt compelled to eat, eat and eat even more.

[syoddeye]

consequence / needling

price x f!reader | 1.9k words series directory | ao3 tags: tattoos, feelings, social media, shitty exes a/n: good news and bad news. ☕

you’ve never been much of a dancer, but you find a rhythm all the same.

john divides time between work and leave. grouses about tying up loose ends and mountains of menial paperwork about said ends, but he’s with you more often than not. you think you’re handling his comings and goings well until he sits you down for a talk after informing you he’ll be gone for two and a half weeks.

at first, it feels like critique all over again, the kind that makes you shrink into yourself. your instinct is to freeze up, say little, agree with him, and promise to do better next time he’s away. but john doesn’t let you fold into yourself, and he doesn’t take easy answers either. he’s calm and direct and speaks with disarming clarity. for someone who can’t discuss what his job involves, he’s honest about its realities. there’s no judgment in his tone, just a measured precision that leaves you feeling exposed, then immediately comforted. for the first time, you’re not left twisting in the wind.

he wants you to make informed decisions. to minimize the surprises you’ll inevitably experience. no more gut reactions, no more panic.

i need to know you’ll be alright. with or without me.

and he isn’t simply referring to his deployments. he speaks about a future without him, should you choose to walk away. 

this isn’t for everyone.

john’s right, of course. you know in your bones but don’t want it to be true. instead, you let yourself believe in the possibility of things working out, following the moments that feel good and easy, however fleeting. winter helps—the light snow smoothing over the ugly edges of everything outside, making it easier to laze about with him. he spends more time at your flat than his own, though he won’t even hear of you merging households yet. you don’t press him. rushing things is what got you here. a deep bruise always prepared to remind you of its ache.

99+. terrifying. absurd.

the espresso machine hisses as you wipe spilled milk off the counter with the edge of your apron. the rectangular shape in your pocket taunts you. you haven’t looked at your phone since you clocked in, and the impulse grows harder to ignore with every flat white.

it’s stupid. it’s not like you drew anything groundbreaking—just a sheet of cats with coffee mugs modeled after old-school greeting cards. a cute warm-up, nothing serious. you wrote a corny caption, meowcchiato or catpuccino, posted it, and went to sleep. you considered it a modest success when you woke to a dozen comments and new followers. then, some big-name tattoo page shared it, and it ballooned.

your fingertips dip into the canvas only for a group order to pop up on the screen, signaling the start of the mid-day rush.

on break, you step out back. the cold air hits like a reset button, your breath visible in cloudy puffs. shivering, you stare at the tower of notifications on your lock screen and swipe.

your eyes saucer at four figures. a thousand and some change likes. hundreds of comments and shares. two hundred more followers. you scroll through the new names, quickly following a few artists and legit-looking shops back before you feel weird.

one account catches your eye despite a sea of requests in your messages. a local studio you’re familiar with.

>> hey, looks like we are neighbors. i like the cats. i don’t think i recognize your work. are you an apprentice somewhere?

rechecking the post, you flinch. you neglected to remove the geotag. shit. so much for total anonymity. you respond before you think too hard about it. embarrassment rolls off of you like the vapor from your breath.

> hi, no i’m not. this is just a hobby.

another chance to check your phone doesn’t arrive until you’re off, due to meet john.

>> really? if you’re at all interested, i’ve got a friend opening apps in a month or two. >> happy to chat if you want to drop by the shop.

it feels like a trap. something oddly shaped like hope makes you walk into it anyway with a reply.

~~~~

she’s in a rush, already glancing at the clock before she’s even out the door. her scarf is half-tied, her coat slipping off a shoulder as she reaches for her bag, but john can’t help himself. he leans in and kisses her cheek, then the line of her jaw, quick and light like a thief. she huffs a laugh but doesn’t pull away.

“you’re going to make me late.”

he kisses the corner of her mouth, the scar on her wrist when she tries to push him off, the warm skin beneath her ear. his hands crawl under her open coat and up her sides to reel in for another. he fixes her coat, fastens the buttons, and ties her scarf, all without letting her up for air. when she finally pulls the door open, winter funneling through the crack, he lets her go with a goodbye. she steps out mid-laugh, and he’s left standing, smiling to himself like a fool.

with nothing but time to kill, he makes himself useful. 

cece follows as he tidies. he knows exactly what his girl buys at the shop now, what brands, what alternatives. he parks outside her building and catches himself smiling, almost laughing, at how far this has come. how it started with that dent in the car he now leaves at her curb, the little heart she’d drawn on the note that came with it, an act to placate an angry stranger. now, she draws them on the back of his hand when they lie in.

later, he fixes supper, the cat weaving between his feet. greets her when she gets in with a thin slice of parmesan with honey balanced on his fingers. before she bites the morsel off its perch, she holds up her phone with a frown.

“what am i looking at?”

“he fucking painted it.”

~~~~

you find out through an old classmate, an acquaintance utterly ignorant of everything.

of course, ben painted the breakup, the prelude, and the aftermath, repurposing it all for artistic expression. you picture him pretending to suffer, draping his self-inflicted misery over their history like he’s the victim. the sheer audacity of it—painting your pain as if it’s a fucking concept—makes you want to scream. you don’t even know what’s worse: the paintings themselves, his self-congratulatory smugness in the captions, or the fact that you feel anything when you see them. the nerve to twist everything into his own narrative. it’s infuriating, his reduction of everything into a palette of pity. you know that temporarily unblocking him to spy helps nothing, but you can’t help yourself.

ben reinterpreted everything, made it about his genius and his torment the way he always did. and what bothers you most is that you’re still trying to find yourself in his work, even now.

at least hannah stays out of the literal picture for once. bad enough ben depicts her as some sort of savior. a heavy-handed and garish fucking pieta-like feature. 'ben wanted to paint it, you know…had it all mapped out. i convinced him not to.' the rat.

you stare at the hard line of john’s jaw as he scrolls, barely able to appreciate his culinary efforts because his predecessor ruined your appetite.

“my offer stands.”

“what?”

“i’m inclined to sort him out for you. i know a man or two who owe me.”

~~~~

she makes him promise he won’t sic someone on the ex, and he obliges. he makes her feel better, and she draws another lazy heart on his skin.

cheek pressed to his chest, she sighs.

“you gonna to say anything to him?” 

“what’s there to say?”

“i can think of some words to make a sailor blush.”

she flicks his nipple. “i already cursed him out and threw wine at him.”

“think he’s doin’ this because you told hannah to fuck off?”

rolling to her side, she toys with the hair creeping down his chest. “i think hannah and i are irrelevant. swap us out with anyone else, and he’d come to the same, self-centered conclusion.”

“for what it’s worth, i think his work is…trite.”

a tired laugh rattles out of her, and she pats his stomach. “oh, wow, someone check on the sailor. must be blushing.”

cheeky.

he sweeps over her in one fluid roll, pushing her to her back and sticking his mouth to her neck. he ignores her squeals and her half-hearted battering. she protests, something about him leaving a mark, and he lifts.

“put one on me?”

“a hickey?” her chest heaves from their game.

“no. a tattoo.”

the meticulousness john admires translates into everything, that much is clear, given his girl’s stringent cleaning and the amount of ppe. he didn’t think he’d be treated to some gutter punk special, but it feels as professional as an amateur can get. considering the other places he’s spent time with open wounds, her flat feels like a spa.

the amount of shit he’ll catch from the boys, however? that worries him.

they discuss the design again. it already took the better part of an hour to select one from her burgeoning collection—she refuses to call it a portfolio, despite all evidence—and placement took another fifteen. shaving, regrettably, took only a few minutes. odd and intimate. when she brushed the shorn hair off his left pec and swept it into a dust pan, he forced himself to breathe.

“are you sure about this? i’m not a professional. this is permanent.”

he readjusts and pats the naked patch of skin. “i’m aware.”

the bite of a needle is nothing. compared to the puckered scar from a knife wound in his right thigh—it’s a pleasant burn. helps that the hand guiding it is light, the pressure deliberate and contained. plus, her tongue wets the corner of her lips so often, and that, paired with the pinch of her brow? he’d endure worse. cute.

he will not embarrass her and say it out loud. he doesn’t say a word. she’s finally distracted from ben’s paintings.

but she speaks when she switches to color, dabbing excess ink onto a paper towel.

“alright?”

“never better.”

“because i’m not a mind reader. if you’re regretting this now, say the word.”

“i’m not regretting a thing. are you?” 

she doesn’t immediately look up from the needle, fiddling with it. when she does, she shakes her head. “not a thing. moving onto color now.”

she carefully drags red into the design, then gold. the firm, short strokes spark a brief flare of discomfort but let nothing slip. he can take it. the silence lingers, shorter this time, and again, she breaks it.

“remember that silly cats and coffee sheet?”

“yeah?”

“i’ve been, uh, chatting with a local artist about it. he wants to meet. talk shop, i guess.”

his attention snaps from his chest to her. sly thing, biting her cheek to keep her expression as flat as possible. “go on.”

she meets his eye for a second, pulling her hand back to swap to green. “he wants me to bring my collection, if you can believe it.”

that ugly, possessive monster in his head cocks an ear. focuses on the wrong detail. he wrestles it into the thick mud of his thoughts and resurfaces with—”sounds like he thinks you have a knack for it. we have that in common.” good show.

“he thinks i might be good enough to try for an apprenticeship.”

this time, she holds his gaze. uncertainty writ large on her face. seeking.

“is that something you want?”

“yeah,” her lip twitches. a flash of something crosses her face. a wince? “yeah, it is.”

[lokisgoodgirl]

Don't Be Shy [Loki x Fem Reader]

A link to my (new) Masterlist is here. Summary: [Oneshot] You want him. He wants you. But he's shy, and for good reason. Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smuttish. S*x starved Loki. Teasing. Dirty talk. (w/c 1.9k)

You had decided. Come what may, tonight was the night you were making your move. You glanced subtly towards the god of mischief sitting cross-legged on his own, lounging diagonally on a sofa at the far side of the common room. Garish balloons floated in the air on either side of where he sat, looking comically out of place in his self-imposed fortress of solitude. He curled a loose tendril of hair behind his ear before slowly licking a fingertip, gracefully turning the page of his book.

“You know what he’s like at parties.” Thor shouted through a slur, barely audible over the music and sporadic breaks of laughter all around you. Reluctantly, you turned to the blonde looming over your shoulder. “I know, but usually he reads at the bar at least.” you scoffed, taking a sip. Thor chuckled, shaking his head. “My brother likes you, you know. He’s just shy.” He narrowed his eyes, seeing your lips twitch in a smile. “Likes you.” he continued coyly, labouring the point as he wriggled his eyebrows “...if you know what I mean.” You rolled your eyes. “I think the mini-quiches know what you mean.” The god laughed, far harder than the joke deserved. The head of his beer sloshed over the side of the glass, hitting the floor by your feet. You saw Loki’s head rise out the corner of your eye, a disapproving frown etched deep on his face. Thor leant closer. “He’s waiting for you to come to him.”

“Is he, now?” you replied innocently. “Well then...I shouldn’t keep him waiting, should I?” Shooting Thor a wink, you began to sway towards the dark-haired god. The grooves on his forehead smoothed suspiciously quickly as he composed himself, blinking several times in swift succession. Clearly, he was flustered. The skirt of your skater dress swished around your thighs as you drew closer. Loki’s intentional avoidance of you, palpable. “Hi, Laufeyson.” you said cheerfully, plonking onto the sofa beside him. He grunted in greeting, scanning the words on the page at a steady pace. Tentatively, you reached and clasped the thick of the book, sliding it from his hand. You placed it on your lap, nestled amongst the folds of black satin. Loki’s hand remained in place, poised in the air. “How rude.” he said coldly, his eyes rising to meet yours with a wolf-like squint. You smiled, tilting your head. “So is reading at a birthday party. You should talk to people.” “I don’t like talking to people at these things. Everyone is so…” he grimaced, looking towards the crowd. The team hung off each other in various stages of inebriation, laughter and raucous shouting exploding every few seconds as hits of the 90’s played at full blast. Loki sighed. “I prefer it over here. It’s quieter. And the company, infinitely better.” You scooted closer, leaning towards him as you both stared at the jovial mass of your colleagues. The movement nudged against Loki’s thigh, making him flinch. “Even if I’m here?” you said innocently as you turned your face to his, batting your lashes. The god’s jaw twitched, his façade of bravado fading. He flicked his wrist, inspecting his nails. “Perhaps.” he purred, as you drank in the tantalising sight of his curled fingers. God, they were so long. Loki smirked, running a covetous gaze down your crossed legs and back to your face. “You look very pretty tonight.” he murmured politely, straightening against the sofa with an arm outstretched over the back. “Pretty?” you tutted, as you slid his book to the side. “That isn’t quite what I was going for.”

Loki’s brows slanted. “Oh? And what were you going for, exactly?” The deep pitch of his voice wavered as he rested a hand behind his head. He was nervous. You could see each controlled breath making his chest squeeze the buttons of his shirt; clinging on for dear life. The pulse point in his neck was thundering, a faint hue of pink just visible at the tip of his ear. “Fuckable.” you heard yourself purr.

Loki swallowed.

The fingers resting in his hair tightened, chin tilting upward as he inhaled sharply through his nose. “What are you doing?” he growled. Suspicious eroticism smouldered in his irises, cheekbones flashing in the low light. “I highly recommend that you choose your next words very carefully.” The thump of your heart was deafening as his stare lowered towards the hand creeping to his knee. “I think it’s time you tell me what you want, Loki…don't you?” you said quietly, fingers cupping the muscled curve. Both of you had been dancing around this for months. The flirting, the masked innuendos. And the touching...my god. The light brush of his hands on your waist as he made his presence known; a gravelled ‘excuse me’ whisping in your ear as he passed with a lingering smoulder. “Why don’t you tell me what I want?" he rumbled. "You seem to be very sure of yourself tonight.”

You and Loki’s legs were crossed towards each other, calves grazing as you shuffled closer. Your bare skin slipped against the luxurious fabric of his suit trousers, cologne filling your nostrils, wafting from the sliver of skin visible at the top buttons of his shirt. He smelled like expensive hotels and filthy, decadent deeds. Rich oak-smoked masculinity seeping into the primal centre of your brain.

“You want me, Laufeyson…” you murmured, beginning to lightly run a fingertip up his crossed leg. The material brushed your skin with the lightest touch. Just enough to make him tingle. Loki’s breath hitched, his hips jolting back into the cushioning.

“Don’t deny it.” you whispered. Loki’s frowned, before clearing his throat. He shuffled on the sofa, the uncrossing of his legs making your hand retreat. He cast a solemn glance to the dance-floor, before focusing back on you. “I had no plans on denying it.” he drawled haughtily, a slight tremble betraying simmering depths. “I’m just a little...taken aback.” “Shy, you mean?” you murmured playfully. “Do you want me to stop?” you said, inching away. Loki’s hand flew out, grabbing your wrist. His eyes were narrowed, brow creased. “No.” he growled, letting his legs widen slowly. You wondered if he knew he had done it. “Although, I am a little...out of practice-” he cut himself off, placing your hand back on his thigh. Automatically, you squeezed the muscle of his solid femur, making him groan quietly. “Out of practice?” you cooed, shuffling so that your back was turned to the crowd by the bar. “Has the great Loki Laufeyson not gotten laid in a while?”

A whimper slid past his lips as your hand moved higher, skating lightly up his thigh. Two inches forward, one inch back. Loki shook his head. “Purely... i-intentional, you understand…” he managed through erratic breaths. You nodded sagely. “Of course.” you teased, enjoying Loki’s deepening scowl. You could see the fabric around his crotch tightening beneath the flashing lights, thick creases appearing around his hip where his cock was hardening beneath your delicate touch. The god’s smouldering eyes were filled with shameless fantasies, pupils wide with desire as you inched higher. He thrust upward lightly, a hiss filling the air between you as he grit his teeth. The swell of your cleavage heaved directly in his line of sight as your lips grazed his cheek. “Do you masturbate to me, Loki?” you whispered, a thrill rushing through your blood as you pulled back, watching his reaction.

He paused, his mouth hardening in a thin line. The god studied the curve of your knowing smile before nodding twice. Slowly. He kept his chin low on the second as your fingers trailed over the rock hard column straining against his hip. Loki let out a juddering sigh, abdominals clenching visibly beneath his perfectly fitted shirt. You drew closer once more, letting your moist lips brush against the angle of his jaw. “Do you fuck yourself to the thought of me in your empty bed, being your little plaything?” “Gods…” Loki gasped quietly, his legs trembling with the effort of resistance. You smiled. “Or maybe you would be my plaything. Would you like that?” You slid your hand up his chest, turning his face towards yours. “I bet we could teach each other so many things, Loki of Asgard.” you hummed seductively, biting your lip. “And I bet you look so fucking good on your back, palming yourself as you moan my name. Don't you?” Loki’s brows knitted together, twitching. “I can only imagine the dirty ways you've had me with that perfect cock of yours…” you groaned in his ear a final time, hearing him whimper quietly in response. “-How do you know it’s p-perfect?” he grunted, an attempt at humour in his increasingly desperate state. You laughed softly, rubbing your palm firmly up the seemingly endless shaft bound beneath the cotton. “Call it, intuition.” you murmured, pausing to suck his earlobe between your teeth.

Loki groaned again, louder this time. “Shhh…” you hushed, fighting to contain your glee. He whipped his head round, his hand flying to yours resting teasingly on his pulsing cock. Dark curls framed his exquisite face, those bottomless eyes searching yours as he looked for any hint of insincerity. His breaths short. “Truly, I would not wish to give you false hope of satisfaction. It really has been a whil-” His almond eyes widened as you pressed a finger to his lips. They were moist with breath hot with desire, the condensation of his desperation. “I’ll take care of you, Loki…” you said slowly, walking the fingers of your other hand up his flat stomach. "Don't worry about that." Every word felt like syrup, each one more laboured than the last as wet arousal slid in your panties. “I just... really...need to fuck you tonight. Does that sound like a good idea?”

Loki nodded again, eyes darkening. You slid the fingertip resting on his cupid’s bow down, grazing over his jawline as you pressed your chest to his, leaning forward to claim him with a kiss. Finally. His lips parted, gazing up at you with beautiful desperation, head resting on the back of the sofa. His submission, imminent.

“Not here.” he choked suddenly before your lips met, raising his head to eye the buzzing crowd with suspicion. “Are you ashamed of me?” you jibed with a coy smile, pawing at the next button on his shirt before spreading your palm against his chest. He was so fucking hard. “Far from it, Agent-” he growled, embers of the Loki you knew from the battlefield lighting the air around you like stars. He ground his teeth together, a low exhale making the thick vein in his neck stand erect as he leant forward. Loki’s nose traced the line of your cheekbone, exhaling sluttishly in your ear with a licentious moan. “I fear that if I were to kiss you now, I would not be able to restrain myself.” You inhaled against his skin, feeling him shudder with shameless need as his murky spiced cologne wafted hot in your nostrils. “Let’s take this party upstairs then, shall we?” you smouldered, feeling him shiver again beneath the graze of your lips.

Companion oneshot Delayed Gratification - Smut.

Tags @gigglingtigger @meowmeow-motherfucker @muddyorbsblr @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loveroflokiforpoeticjustice @coldnique @holdmytesseract @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @vbecker10 @thomase1 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @xorpsbane @peacefulpianist @maple-seed @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @infinitystoner @goblingirlsarah @ozymdias @peaches1958 @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @sidepartskinnyjeans @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @smolvenger @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @psychospore @littlespaceyelf

[badboydevotee]

A Heartfelt Surprise

Summary: "It's my birthday?! Oops, totally slipped my mind... Thanks for remembering!" - Haru's birthday voiceline.

The morning sun filtered through the curtains of your dorm room, casting a warm glow that danced on the walls. You stretched, taking a moment to relish the quiet stillness before the day’s chaos began. You glanced at the calendar hanging on the wall, and your heart skipped a beat. Today is Haru’s birthday.

Haru, with his signature orange vest and that delightful, easy smile, had always been a beacon of kindness in your life. From the moment you met, his eccentricity and passion for taking care of the myriad of anomalous creatures in the dorm drew you in. He could handle anything thrown his way, from rambunctious cats to mischievous gremlins. And then there was Peekaboo, the creature Haru adored as if he were his own child. The little creature had a knack for getting into trouble, but somehow, Haru managed to juggle it all, always with that infectious enthusiasm.

Determined to make the day special for him, you quietly gathered a few supplies while the dorm still slept. You rummaged through your stash of art supplies, readying materials to make a handmade card. As you crafted, thoughts of Haru filled your mind—his warm laughter, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, and how he always seemed to know when you needed support. You wanted to give back, even if it was just a small token of appreciation.

Once the card was complete, you slipped it into your pocket and began planning a little birthday surprise. The Jabberwock dorm’s lounge would be the perfect setting. You arranged snacks, decorated the room with colorful streamers, and set up a small table for Peekaboo’s special treats. Just as you were about to place the final balloon, the door swung open, and Haru stepped in, his short dark brown and orange hair catching the light.

“Oh! You’re up early!” Haru exclaimed. He wore his usual attire, complete with that adorable black and orange necktie, and the ever-present sling bag slung over his shoulder. “What are you doing?”

“Just… um, a little surprise for someone special,” you said, trying to maintain a casual tone while your heart raced.

His curiosity piqued, Haru tilted his head slightly, a playful smirk forming on his lips. “Special, huh? Are we talking about someone like… Peekaboo?” He gestured toward the little creature peering over the edge of his bag.

“Actually…” you began, but the words caught in your throat. The way he looked at you, with that friendly sparkle in his closed eyes, made it difficult to focus. “It’s for you. Your birthday, remember?”

For a moment, silence enveloped the room. Then, realization dawned on him. “It’s my birthday?! Oops, totally slipped my mind... Thanks for remembering!” His voice held a mixture of surprise and delight, his smile widening, a glimmer of warmth radiating from him.

You chuckled softly, motioning him to the lounge. “Come on, you have to see what I set up!”

As he entered the lounge, his expression shifted from surprise to pure joy. The decorations, the treats—everything was just for him. “Wow, you really went all out!” he said, a genuine admiration coloring his tone. He glanced around, taking in the effort you’d put into the surprise.

“I wanted to make your day special,” you replied, feeling warmth creep up your cheeks. “You do so much for everyone here, especially with the anomalies. I thought you deserved a celebration.”

Haru’s smile softened, and he approached you, his presence both comforting and electrifying. “You’re the best. Seriously, I can’t thank you enough.”

In that moment, the air between you shifted. There was something deeper than friendship simmering beneath the surface, something that made your heart flutter and your palms sweat. As if sensing your inner turmoil, Haru stepped a little closer, his voice low and gentle. “You know, it’s people like you who keep me grounded. I’m lucky to have you by my side.”

You swallowed hard, the weight of his words settling over you like a warm blanket. “I feel the same way,” you admitted, a smile breaking through your initial nerves.

Haru’s expression brightened, and just as you thought he might say something more, Peekaboo bounded into the room, accidentally knocking over a stack of treats. “Ah, Peekaboo!” Haru laughed, the moment breaking as he rushed to scoop him up.

You watched Haru, your heart swelling with affection. There was something magical about how he balanced his responsibilities while still finding joy in the little things—like a birthday celebration, even if it had momentarily slipped his mind.

As the day unfolded with laughter, delicious food, and Peekaboo’s antics, you felt a sense of peace settle within you. Haru’s laughter echoed in the room, filling every corner with warmth.

As the sun dipped low in the sky, you found yourself dreaming of shared adventures, of laughter echoing through the dorm, and the undeniable bond that had formed between you and Haru. Today, you celebrated not just his birthday, but the magic of the connection you both shared—a connection that was bound to grow deeper with each passing moment.

Ao3 vers.

[dana-chan-the-control-brain]

Things from the ruin dlc that keep me up at night.

Spoilers under the cut.

SERIOUSLY DO NOT READ IF YOU'RE AVOIDING SPOILERS.

Disclaimer: I wrote this before I had seen Everything the DLC has to offer or all the endings yet. I was on the wrong track, but I think my cooking before I knew everything was good cooking. I have more concrete theories now under #danachan's rants

Something that I was 100% right about that I was going to write into Lofi eventually.... But I guess I'll talk about it now since the dlc confirmed it.

But Balloon Boy world was literally Eclipses cage as I suspected. It was suppressing them. It wasn't an evil arcade or Eclipse was living in there. Eclipse's AI was being suppressed in the arcade cabinet.

Eclipse is how they talk to eachother, and Eclipse was asleep and completely blocked off from the Virus. So Sun and Moon had no communication with eachother anymore. Which is why they were both so stressed and lost.

I was astounded I got that completely correct in regards to what Eclipse is, and what the balloon boy game is.

(the dlc does not explain the Dcas weird connection to Vanessa and why the arcade cabinet was in Afton's boss fight room though)

Bonus points Moon talks exactly how I write him when speaking about the Sun and the Moon.

Another thing that has been mind-blowing me that all the comic book endings are scenarios that GREGORY DREW.

And according to the dlc....

The Afton Burntrap Blob ending is another one of those endings that he drew.

Which means Peepaw Afton and the Blob were never real in the first place.

Which is why no one could really figure out what the blob is.

It doesn't exist.

Princess Quest ending was the canon ending.

Vanessa leaving the Pizzaplex with Gregory is the canon ending.

The ending where you fight Afton in the basement.... Never happened and was just Gregory attempting to make sense of the FNAF lore that Vanessa probably explained to him. Since in the DLC, we do find a book about Fazbear History in Vanny's room.

I honestly don't know if Steel Wool retroactively made Burntrap non-canon due to everyone making fun of him, not taking him seriously and hating the blob, or if this was always the case. Because despite the Afton ending being the hardest to get.... It's still a two star ending.

So it's hard and too early for me to tell if I want to give them points for that soft retcon. I mean I don't blame them honestly.

But yeah. Skeleton man Afton in the basement and his best friend the Blob isn't actually real, and neither is Freddy's "I am not me" speech either.... Which honestly makes sense. Because it's all Gregory's comic book trying to make sense of FNAF Lore he doesn't understand.

Also, I can say definitively, and finally, Afton is not the Mimic. Glitchtrap exists as its own entity in this, and the Mimic seems to have its own agenda. It's unclear if Afton is possessing the Mimic via virus corruption, but for now, I believe the Mimic is acting of its own will.

And man oh man. I feel so sorry for people who haven't been keeping up with Tales of the Pizzaplex Books.

The ending of the dlc is just really "who's Henry???" From pizzasim all over again huh....

Anyways. Those are my thoughts. I will be streaming the dlc again tomorrow. Gonna try and get a better ending, but I have a suspicion they're all sad.

[catslvrr]

broken thread

pham hanni x fem!reader | one shot

Synopsis: Your whole life, you had been waiting for the red loop to appear on your ring finger. The string leads straight to your soulmate, you had heard. You weren’t really expecting your soulmate to literally cut ties on the first day of getting it. And you definitely weren’t expecting to meet her months later at your university library.

Contains: cursing

Playlist

Your favorite color had always been red — a rich and blazing red.

You learned from an early age that it was the color of love. The color of the string that would wrap around your ring finger one day, and lead you straight to your soulmate.

You spent countless days pestering your parents to retell the story of when they first received their string, the story of how they first met, the story of how they fell in love. You would watch them send teasing smiles to each other as they fought over who fell first, and see their eyes gleam with fondness as they reminisced about their younger days.

They would tuck you in bed with goodnight kisses after sharing little tidbits of their love story, and you would fall asleep with a smile on your face, comforted by the fact that you would one day find your own soulmate — someone who would love you unconditionally.

The first time you saw the red string in action, from someone other than your parents, was in the first year of high school. A girl from your class had rocked up to school one day, waving around her hand to flaunt the red loop that had appeared around her finger, the first to do so.

That was the telltale sign that she had found her soulmate: everyone could see the loop, and only she could see the string that led her to them.

(Getting the loop didn’t mean that you would immediately find your soulmate, though. You had heard from your parents that it was different for everyone. It could be mere days, or it could take weeks, months, sometimes even years after receiving the loop to meet your soulmate face to face.)

News traveled around fast. By second period, it was all everyone talked about. Students rushed to the girl during the break, eager to see it in person, as if to confirm that this concept was tangible and real.

You didn’t have to see for yourself. The look on the girl’s face was enough for you, glowing with ardor and pride. And it was not only the girl who was left eager at the prospect of a soulmate after this. This day planted a seed of hope in everyone, their own expectations and fervor beginning to grow and flourish.

It’s so nice, you had thought to yourself at the time as you absentmindedly drew a red line that looped around your whole page, that everyone is so excited for love.

And you loved love, too. How could you not, when it was in everything you saw growing up? It was in the mornings when you would wake up unusually early, and peek outside your room to see your parents conversing in hushed tones over some coffee, the sunlight just barely spilling through the curtains to tenderly greet them.

It was in the tooth-rotting sweetness of the candy your cousins would secretly buy for you without your parents’ knowledge, along with the bandaids to cover your scraped knees when you rode your bike together.

It was in the way you and your friends would bring extra servings of your snacks or lunch to share with and ‘trade’ together.

It was everywhere, a constant and certainty, there for you to give and take at your will, and that’s what you loved about love.

As years went by, more and more students burst through the school gates brandishing their red loops, and more and more couples began popping up. Valentine’s Day at school was always sweet to see — the school would decorate the hallways with red threads and balloons, and students sent heart lollipops and roses to their lovers or friends.

By the time you reached your senior years, your ring finger was still bare. Your friends and family always reassured you that your time would come, and friends who hadn’t received the loop yet would lament and rant about their anxiety. You weren’t too worried, though. Love is patient and so you figured you should be too.

It was a few weeks after graduation when you finally received your red loop. You woke up in the afternoon to the disruptive revving of a car that zoomed past your house.

(You had been waking up later these days, enjoying the last taste of freedom before the start of university.)

You stayed up late last night, suddenly feeling the motivation to perform a surgical deep clean of your room. You enjoyed doing this every few months to give yourself peace of mind. It was bittersweet to look back at your past exams and the old notes you took, reminiscing the endless hours you spent hunched over your desk.

You were about to drift back to sleep when you felt a slight itch on your ring finger, and instinctively went to scratch it. Then, you realized what that meant, and quickly sat up to investigate.

There it was, in all its glory: a red loop around your finger. The string that extended it passed through your walls. You leaned in closer to inspect it — it seemed like a real string, like what you would find on a spool. You could see the little threads that it was made of. But when you tried to touch it, it would just pass through your fingers.

You sat there for a few minutes, letting the reality sink in. You were overwhelmed with emotions, the good kind, and your cheeks started to hurt because you were smiling too hard.

You didn’t feel any different, didn’t feel suddenly whole or complete, and you didn’t expect to. You were just content that there was someone out there to share your love with. Though, there was that small sense of relief in the way your shoulders relaxed. 

(There was always a small margin of error with soulmates; you had heard of it through whispered rumors and seen it in the fine print of your research. The selfish part of you was glad that it wasn’t you.)

Your hands wouldn’t stop trembling, even when you got out of bed to brush your teeth. You couldn’t help but begin to fantasize about who your soulmate would be — what they would look like, what their personality was like, if the two of you would click straight away.

Just as you finished washing up and began to make your way to the kitchen, you winced as you felt an unexpected sharp tug on your ring finger. Your hand felt like it was burning. Cradling your wrist up towards you, you noticed what was wrong.

What was once a red string that carried your love beyond these walls, to wherever your soulmate was, was now cut short, frayed at the edges. Its color had faded, as if lifeless, now a pale pink.

Oh. Maybe you spoke too soon.

You stood there for a while, in the hallway, in denial. Hadn’t it only been a few minutes? When your mom made her way to your room to check up on you, she saw your stricken face first. Her eyebrows knitted, mouth open and about to ask what was wrong. Then, she saw the string, or a lack thereof.

She didn’t say anything, only pulling you into her arms, the arms that once engulfed you as she told you everything she knew about soulmates. You let the tears run down your face.

You never thought that love could be pain, but you were feeling it now, and you didn’t know how to make it stop. Each gasping breath after the sobs that wracked through your body should have been breaths that your soulmate would’ve taken away.

You bit your lip so as to no longer make a sound, and you were biting so hard that it bled the red you once thought meant love.

You felt empty for the next few days. There was an almost imperceptible lighter feeling to your ring finger now, and you felt bare.

The loop was still there, and the sight of it that had once brought joy, now only gave you sorrow that you would’ve never thought to associate with soulmates.

You cried until your eyes were bloodshot red, and you imagined that your tears would stain the pink loop, if it could be stained — soaked with your tears so that it darkened, and maybe it would be closer to the red you love.

It was as if the universe was mocking you. Everyone knew how much you loved the idea of soulmates, how badly you were waiting for the day to get your loop (even though you tried to hide it).

But we always want what we can’t have. And you thought that the world was cruel, for letting you just have a taste of soulmates, only for it to be ripped away from you not even an hour later.

Or perhaps you should blame your soulmate for being selfish and entitled enough to deny both of you the gift that is love. You wonder if you would actually say that to them if you ever met face to face.

(You wouldn’t. You have a feeling that you’d love them regardless.)

It was stupid, being heartbroken over someone you had never met. But you had spent so much of your life waiting and hoping, that the disappointment was stifling, like the string had wrapped itself tightly around you, leaving you no room to breathe. Maybe it was your fault for being too idealistic.

The worst part was that there would not be any closure. But perhaps this fate was better than being rejected upon the first meeting. It hurt all the same, anyway.

You kept yourself occupied as best as you could, which manifested itself into more of just holing yourself up in your room, listening to sad music and cleaning away your thoughts.

Eventually, you forced yourself out of hiding and faced the music. The pitiful looks and words of comfort from friends and family felt more burdening than anything, but you knew they meant well.

You took it day by day, learning to slowly chisel off the bitterness that had engraved itself onto you. You didn’t want to become someone your past self would’ve hated.

Romantic love may not be on the table for you anymore, but there was still plenty of love to go around. And that was what you would tell yourself to move on. You had to move on, because time doesn’t wait for anyone.

The good news was that the start of university was not too long after, which gave you something to focus on rather than the gaping hole that your would-be-soulmate left.

University was a big change, but you were never one to be unnerved by change. The hardest part was finding where all the lecture halls and rooms were on campus, but other than that, you had successfully cemented yourself into uni life among hundreds of other students.

Faster than you could process, you settled into a comfortable rhythm: taking public transport to get to uni, attending lectures and tutorials, rotting away in the library to complete your weekly exercises, going home to sleep, then doing it all over again.

At least you didn’t have classes every day.

Ignoring the relentless workload, the freedom and flexibility that university offered in comparison to high school was a breath of fresh air.

You enjoyed romanticizing the train rides to university, getting lost in the scenery passing by with your Airpods on. Grabbing a coffee early in the morning, feeling as if you were an adult now. Feeling insignificant under the towering skyscrapers that the city boasted.

It was lonely though. With a fresh set of classmates every semester, it felt harder than ever to make friends. Your high school friends had branched out to different universities, and the ones that went to the same one as you, were busy with adapting to the new lifestyle.

You still met up from time to time, of course, but it wasn’t the same as seeing each other every day in high school.

So yes, it was incredibly lonely. It didn’t help that all you could see around you was the bright red of everyone’s loop, a reminder of what you lost.

You were in your zone, catching up on a lecture via recording and making notes, when the opening of a door startled you.

You looked up to see a girl who, despite her short stature, still exuded an intimidating vibe. You took out your Airpods.

“I booked this room.”

“Oh,” you frowned. You were so sure that you booked this room. You always did, this same room, on Wednesday, every week. “I thought I booked it, but maybe there was an error with the system.”

You started to pack up, the air painstakingly awkward as the stranger stood there and watched you. 

“I’m sorry,” you murmured.

You struggled under her scrutiny, fumbling over your pens and pencils as you internally berated yourself for not verifying the booking.

“You booked it?” She said after a while. (You were still packing up.) You felt small under her gaze, only nodding in response.

“Don’t worry about it then,” she mumbled, plopping herself on a chair. “We can share.”

“Oh.” Your hand that was stuffing your stationery into your backpack froze. “Are you sure?”

The stranger grunted and waved her hand dismissively. She then folded her arms on the table, leaning her forehead on it. You took that as a sign of the conversation ending.

You hesitantly sat back down and put in your Airpods again. You spent the rest of the time studying, occasionally glancing at the sleeping stranger. You were slightly concerned, more curious if anything.

It was around three hours later when she stirred back to life. You watched her out of the corner of your eye. She puffed her cheeks out as she ran her fingers through her hair, proceeding to check her phone before setting it down on the table.

She rested her chin on her folded arms, diverting her sole attention to you. You quickly averted your eyes back to your laptop screen, feeling her burning stare.

You suffered under her gaze for a few more minutes that seemed to drag itself out before you mustered up the courage to look back up.

Out of habit, you looked at her ring finger. It was something you had been meaning to stop. You wouldn’t want people staring at yours, but you couldn’t help yourself.

To your shock, her loop was also a pale pink. You hadn’t met someone else who also had a pink loop yet.

She noticed your fixated gaze. “Yeah. No soulmate for me.”

“Sorry,” you hastily said, sitting up straight. “I didn’t mean to look-”

“It’s okay,” she shrugged. “I’m used to it.”

You bit your lip and showed her your ring finger. “No, really, I wasn’t judging. I’m the same.”

For the first time since meeting her, you seemed to pique her interest. She smiled as she leaned back, a mix of pride and dryness. You couldn’t really pinpoint it. “I cut mine. How about you?”

You wavered for a split second, but quickly shook the thought off. It’s just a coincidence. You tried to play it off. “Me too.”

“Really?” She tilted her head, still skeptical. “Why?”

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat. “Didn’t feel right, you know. I wasn’t ready.”

She let out a sigh of relief. “God, finally someone that gets it. Everyone’s so obsessed with soulmates, I can’t stand it.”

“I know right,” you laughed awkwardly. Your response only seemed to spur her on.

“Soulmates are such a scam. Love should be a choice. Some stupid string shouldn’t dictate who I love,” she muttered, drumming her fingers on the table.

You nodded slowly. It sounded personal to her. You had never really seen it like that, but you could understand where she was coming from.

Maybe the pain I felt from the cut string was the same pain my soulmate felt when they got the string.

You weren’t sure how to feel about this. You didn’t have much time to dwell on it though, because the stranger spoke again.

“I’m Hanni.”

You were expecting a follow-up question, but realized she was waiting for a response. You promptly introduced yourself, although quite clumsily, but she didn’t seem to mind.

“You almost done with studying?” Hanni asked, kicking her feet on the table. You were pretty sure that was against the rules, but she didn’t seem to care.

“Kind of?”

“What do you study anyway?” You kept your eyes trained on your laptop while she kept hers on you.

“Actuarial studies.”

A whistle. “Damn. You must be crazy.”

“Yeah, it’s definitely something,” you scratched your nape before continuing meekly. “How about you?”

“Nothing,” Hanni closed her eyes, arms behind her head as she teetered the chair back. This left you on edge, you were scared she would fall. “Took a gap year.”

“Oh,” you said. “So what do you do with all the time?”

“Whatever I want. Which basically means nothing.”

“Cool,” you nodded stiffly. You were about to end the conversation there, but realized,

“Wait,” you furrowed your eyebrows. “So what are you doing at a uni library?”

She cracked an eye open for a second before smirking. You found this immensely attractive. “Is it not open to the public?”

“It is,” you backtracked. “Sorry-”

Hanni suddenly stood up and stretched. “I’m just messing with you. Most of the time, I come here to take a nap. Sometimes I meet up with my friends though.”

Not giving you any time to respond, she continued. “I’m gonna head out.”

“Oh,” you said, again. That was all you could say really, you weren’t the best with strangers. “Okay.”

Hanni stuffed her phone in her pocket as she shuffled towards the door, putting on her headphones again. You flexed your wrist before continuing to write down lecture notes.

“Hey.”

Hanni hovered at the door, hand on the doorframe. “We both like booking this room. You don’t mind sharing from now on, right?”

You tapped your pen on the desk to relieve your hand of its shakiness. “Yeah. I don’t mind.”

Hanni nodded. “I’ll see you next week.”

“See you…” You mumbled, but she had already walked out. You watched her leave. That initial gut feeling started to die down.

Hanni was someone you wouldn’t necessarily consider a friend in the first few weeks of knowing her. She was consistent though, you’ll give her that, always showing up to the same library room just to sleep for a solid 3 to 4 hours every Wednesday without fail.

So the conversations between you two were minimal. Not that you minded. But there was just something pulling you toward her, maybe it was her assertive nature and the way she carried herself with confidence, the complete opposite of you, or maybe it was the fact that she was very pretty.

Despite her being asleep most of the time, there was a subtle sense of tranquility that she brought — the idea that the two of you were in the same boat; you knew she wouldn’t walk on eggshells around the topic of soulmates around you. You liked that.

(It had been months since the incident. You thought your friends and family would’ve moved on by now, hell, even you have, but the way they tread lightly around you about soulmates was like opening old wounds.

It made you feel as if you were weak. As if you were a defect. You knew this wasn’t true. There was more to life than soulmates. This is what you had to learn.)

Before you knew it, two months had passed since your first meeting. Time flies when uni completely bombards you with assignments. It was just another ordinary Wednesday when Hanni decided to strike up a conversation.

“Hey.”

Hanni flung a pencil in your direction. It had only been ten minutes since she entered the room.

(It was your pencil. You had no idea how she got a hold of it.)

You barely had time to dodge before taking out your Airpods, slightly annoyed, but mostly perplexed.

“Do you do anything other than study?”

“Obviously…”

She still seemed dubious. “What do you like? Any hobbies?”

You paused. 

“I like astronomy?” You said it as more of a question than a statement.

Hanni’s eyebrows furrowed. “Like signs and shit?”

“No,” you laughed softly. “That’s astrology. I mean, you know, space and all that.”

Hanni didn’t reply. You hoped that it was because of indifference, rather than judgment. You didn’t know why you cared anyway. You continued on with your work.

She spoke again a few minutes later. “What do you listen to?”

You took out your Airpods again. Usually, this would be irritating, but these seemingly trivial conversations and small talk somehow wormed their way up to be the highlight of your week.

“Um…” You trailed off. “How am I meant to show you?”

Hanni hummed in thought for a moment. “Do you use Spotify?”

You nodded. She grabbed your phone, pushed it in your face so it would unlock, and started tapping and doing who knows what. You just sat there, appalled by her brazenness.

She handed your phone back to you with a proud smile. “There. Our Spotify’s should be synced now.”

You don’t know why your face started to heat up. Something about listening to music together felt so intimate. Like you were opening a window into your soul.

“Are you sure you want to listen along?” You mumbled. “You might not like my taste in music…”

“I’m sure,” Hanni insisted. “It’s a good way to get to know a person.”

She stretched before settling comfortably into a familiar position, arms folded on the table. She motioned for you to put your Airpods in as she put her headphones back on, before dropping her forehead on her arms. “Wake me up when you’re done studying.”

You took a glance at the pale pink loop on her finger before focusing back on your work.

The sun was beginning to set by the time you finished, the sky painted with an array of vivid yellows and oranges.

You cracked your knuckles as you quietly started to pack up, observing a sleeping Hanni. If you strained your ears, you could hear faint snores, which you found quite endearing. You thought that Hanni was much cuter when she was asleep, a stark contrast to her usual brooding demeanor. Too cute that you almost didn’t wake her up, but guilt would eat you alive if you didn’t.

You cautiously poked her shoulder. “Hanni?”

It took a few more pokes until she blearily opened her eyes, grumbling under her breath. You retracted your hand as if she would bite. “You told me to wake you up…”

You suppressed a smile at the sight of a bright red mark on her forehead. “What time is it?”

“Just about to hit 7. I’m gonna head home.”

Just as you turned to leave, Hanni somehow got out of the chair in the blink of an eye and grabbed you. “Wait.”

You swiveled back around in confusion. She rested her headphones around her neck before stuffing her hands in her pocket. “Do you need to get home urgently?”

You shook your head.

“Okay,” Hanni said simply. “Let’s go.”

You wanted to ask “Go where?”, but Hanni brushed past you and was already walking out the door. You bit your lip. Surely you could spare an hour or two, just for today. You hurriedly adjusted your backpack on your shoulder before jogging to catch up to her.

Your hands were clammy for the entire walk. The sky continued to grow darker, and all the lessons of stranger danger that your parents had taught you were flashing in your head. Maybe it was a bit stupid to blindly follow someone you had barely talked to and only known for a few months or so. Well, if Hanni ended up kidnapping or killing you, at least you died to someone pretty.

Before your thoughts could derail further, Hanni finally stopped walking. Your legs were starting to ache. The last time you got this much cardio in was when you were running late for class in high school.

You took a few seconds to absorb your surroundings. It was a small lake, the water still as it reflected the last remnants of the sunset. It was secluded — you didn’t see or hear any other signs of life besides the inevitable chirping and buzzing of random insects. Hanni seated herself on a small grassy hill that faced the water, patting the space next to her as a signal for you to sit as well.

She leaned back and rested her head against the grass as she closed her eyes. You sat down awkwardly and set your weight on your backpack, just staring at her. Is she asleep again?

“Pretty, right?” She suddenly asked. Okay, not asleep. “I come here to think a lot.”

You gently tugged her hoodie over her head. She didn’t even flinch. You didn’t want bugs to crawl into her hair. “What do you think about?”

You were caught off guard by her deflection. “How do you think your soulmate is doing?”

“What?”

“You cut off your string, right? How do you think they’re doing?”

“Oh,” you tensed. “I’m not too sure. I hope they’re okay, wherever they are.”

Hanni hummed. “You’re awfully nice.”

You hesitated before asking the pressing question on your mind. “Do you really hate the idea of soulmates that much? What if you met them?”

“I wouldn’t say hate,” Hanni clicked her tongue. “I don't really know how to explain it, but I want everything to be my choice, you know? I don’t believe in things like fate. I just happen to meet people, and I choose who I want to stay and who I want to love.”

She shifted before continuing. “And I’ve seen what the string can do. People get too attached to the idea of soulmates, but sometimes they never end up meeting them and are left heartbroken, or their soulmate turns out to be a terrible person. So what good is it, really?”

You bit your cheek as you reflected on her words. Your instinct was telling you that there was more to the story, but it wasn’t your place to ask.

“And I don’t know what I’d do if I ever met my soulmate. I wouldn’t even know it’s them, first of all. But I guess if they’re a decent person, we could start off as friends.”

Hanni finished off with a sigh. “Anyway, enough of my rant. Can you spot any constellations? Or whatever astronomy entails.”

You stared at the sky. You could see the faint twinkling of stars if you tried hard enough. The wonders of light pollution.

“I actually don’t know much about astronomy,” you answered sheepishly. “I just remember having a space phase in, like, 4th grade. And so now I just remember random facts about space and find everything about it pretty.”

Hanni opened her eyes and turned to face you. “Tell me one.”

You pursed your lip in thought for a second, racking your brain. “Magellan was the first teddy bear in space in 1995. It even got a special astronaut suit. Very charming fella.”

You showed her a picture of it on your phone with a stupid smile. You felt your face warm up as Hanni chuckled at the photo, eyes crinkling. Ah. Her smile is so cute.

You cleared your throat to alleviate your fluster. “How about you? What are you into?”

“Nothing special,” she shrugged. “Music and games. Do you play games?”

“Not really,” you admitted. “I remember illegally downloading the Sims and never playing it after my Sim randomly died from a kitchen fire.”

Hanni cracked a smile. “Happens to the best of us.”

"By the way," you said curiously. "Did you learn a lot from my music taste?"

"I did actually," she smirked with arrogance. "You seem to be the sentimental type. A romantic."

"Huh," you blinked.

"You don't need to say anything," she continued smugly. "I already know I'm right."

The buzzing of your phone cut the conversation short. Your mother was calling.

“Oh no,” you winced as you slowly got up. “I lost track of time. I should get going.”

It looked like she wanted to say something, but chose not to. “See you.”

“Don’t you have places to be?”

She flicked her gaze from the lake to you, one that was unexpectedly intense. “Yeah. But I’ll stay here for a bit longer.”

“Okay,” you lingered there for a few seconds. “Stay safe.”

You started making your way home, oddly feeling content.

As more months passed by, the lake became a spot of solace for the two of you, meeting there regularly when either of you felt like talking (mostly Hanni). It was a bit hard at first, getting used to spontaneous hangouts (usually you enjoyed the comfort and stability of routine), but Hanni’s presence was a big help. You learned a lot from her, and especially admired her self-assurance.

You cherished these times as it was an opportunity to learn more about Hanni. Like the fact that she worked at the cafe on campus, despite hating coffee.

(You wondered how you never saw her.)

And the fact that she had performed for her high school talent show and ended up being the grand winner. And the fact that she once slept through the night at the library, and then woke up to the blinding light of a security guard’s flashlight shining in her face.

The more you got to know her, the more your feelings for her grew. Which you found to be quite problematic, because you were such a firm believer of soulmates all your life. Although there was that minuscule possibility that Hanni was your soulmate, you felt as though you were betraying your soulmate by falling for someone else.

Surely, it was free real estate. Your soulmate was the one who cut the string after all. To be honest, they probably don’t care at all. You don’t know why you were creating such a fuss about it. It was your inner guilt clawing at you. Didn't liking someone who wasn't your soulmate debunk the idea of soulmates itself?

You thought about what Hanni would say. You could hear her voice in your head: Love is a choice. Soulmates shouldn’t determine who you love. As much as it conflicted with you, every time you woke up to the thought of her, you found yourself agreeing with her more and more.

You also started to like the pale pink loop on your finger more and more.

“Hey.”

You sat cross-legged on familiar ground, picking at the grass. Hanni hadn’t come to the library today, which left you embarrassingly worried, but she had texted you to meet at the lake around 15 minutes ago. The two of you exchanged contact information the week after the first lake hangout. The two of you didn’t text though. That was, until today. “What are you doing here?”

Hanni’s eyes were closed, as usual. She seemed to ponder a lot. You always wondered what was on her mind. “Thinking.”

“And you called me here because…?”

“Figured you needed a break.” The corner of her lips tugged up. You let out a small smile too. Behind her nonchalant tone and nature, she was surprisingly sweet.

“What are you thinking about this time?”

“You.”

“Me?” You sputtered. “What about me?”

Hanni let out a breath. “My bad. I should be more specific. I’m thinking about my feelings for you.”

Luckily her eyes were still closed, because your face was turning red at an alarming pace.

“Really?” You squeaked. “And what are those feelings?”

“Good feelings. Something that could grow into love, I think.” She opened her eyes to meet yours.

“Oh,” you said. “...I may share those feelings.”

She closed her eyes again, a satisfied smile on her face. “Good. We’re dating now.”

You blinked in astonishment.

“It’s that easy?” You muttered to yourself. “I thought after getting my string cut, I’d never find love again.”

Hanni abruptly sat up. “What?”

You blanched at her cold tone. “What?”

“You didn’t cut your string?”

Shit. The air became tense, her anger palpable. Your hands tightened around a patch of grass. You bit your lip in shame. “...I’m sorry.”

“When?”

You looked at her in confusion.

“When was it cut?” She asked, exasperated.

“December,” you murmured, your throat clogging up. “The 4th of December.”

“Fuck!” She turned away. “That’s when I cut mine.”

Oh. She stood up and started pacing around in circles, running her hand through her hair in what you thought to be frustration. There was a whirlwind of emotions swirling in your chest — fear, guilt, regret, but also joy, as crazy as it sounded.

Hanni was your soulmate. You had to repeat that to yourself internally to really process it. Of course it would be her. Who else would it be?

You pulled yourself back to reality. Reality being a very distressed Hanni who would blow up and ghost you if you didn’t do something.

“Why did you lie?” You hated how you could hear the raspiness in her voice. 

You desperately tried to explain yourself. “I panicked the first time we met. But I never thought to tell you after that because I thought you would hate me for believing in soulmates."

“I’m not that spiteful. It wouldn’t have mattered to me if you believed in soulmates.”

“But we wouldn’t be where we are now,” you reasoned, your voice raw. “We started talking because we bonded over the fact that we both cut our strings.”

“Look at where we’re at now,” Hanni bitterly muttered. “I feel like our relationship is a lie.”

“It’s not,” you stammered. “This doesn’t have to change anything.”

Hanni whipped her head around with a glare. “Of course it changes everything!”

Her eyes softened when you flinched at the harshness of her voice. “Look, it’s just that I genuinely thought that I could finally be loved without either of us being bound by a stupid string.”

You plucked out another strand of grass. “There’s another reason, isn’t there? Of why you hate soulmates so much.”

She stopped walking back and forth. “Yeah.”

“Might as well air everything out, right?” You offered a wry smile.

Silence. You thought that this was the end, but she sat down, a bit further from you than before, and spoke again. “Long story short: I was in love. She was in love with me too. A year into the relationship, she got her string. She didn’t tell me. She just broke up with me and blocked me on everything. Found out days later when one of my friends told me about her new relationship with her soulmate.”

You wanted to reach out and grab her hand to comfort her, but that would have probably just made her hate you more.

“I’m sorry,” you swallowed, an ache in your chest. “You didn’t deserve that.”

“Now that I know we’re soulmates, how do I know if any of our feelings are true? What if this whole relationship, from when we first met to now, was all because of ‘fate’?” Hanni said in a flurry, aggressively ripping out grass. “How much of my feelings are really mine?”

You flattened your hands in the grass to stop them from trembling. “I don’t know. But if we both like each other despite not knowing that we’re soulmates, and even after the fact that our string is cut, doesn’t that mean something? That this was our choice?”

Another pause. You held your breath.

“I need some time to think,” Hanni closed her eyes and exhaled deeply. “You should get going.”

You shakily stood up and took one last glance at her before turning around to leave, your voice small. “Stay safe.”

You didn’t see Hanni for the next two weeks. She didn’t turn up to the library, and you didn’t expect her to. You still felt a pang of disappointment regardless.

The revelation that Hanni was your soulmate weighed heavily in your mind. But that wasn’t the main issue. It was Hanni’s reaction to the fact that created an uneasy feeling in your chest. You found humor in the way that the thread that binded you together ended up being the thread that unraveled everything.

You cried for the first few nights, because you knew it was all your fault. It was like reliving that day in December all over again. At least you got some form of closure though — an explanation as to why your string was cut. But eventually, you accepted the fact that if this was to work out, you would both have to make a deliberate choice.

Your choice being to wait, and Hanni's being to forgive. You once believed love was all about fate, but after meeting Hanni, you learned that it was about choice, too.

You carried on with your routine as usual, but Hanni’s absence followed you wherever you went. The library room felt emptier, quieter. You just hoped that she was okay, wherever she was.

Was it selfish of you to be celebrating the fact that Hanni was your soulmate, when she clearly resented it? Your feelings for her didn’t change, they were the same before and after the realization that you were soulmates. Again, you hoped she would come to the same conclusion too, and still feel the same.

You didn't try to reach out to her or to find her working on campus. She needed the time and space, and you promised yourself you would wait for her.

The next time you met was not planned. It was a Wednesday, like always, and you had just finished a grueling 3-hour study session. The sky was particularly pink today, and it reminded you of Hanni. You found that a lot of things would remind you of her these days. You missed her greatly.

You decided to go to the lake. You lay down on the grass, closing your eyes. Doing this made you feel closer to Hanni somehow. Your mind meandered and you could imagine her here, doing the exact same thing. The solitude of the lake brought some temporary peace to your restlessness.

You got lost in your thoughts for the next hour before you heard the sound of footsteps, steadily growing louder and louder. Fear ran through your veins before you relaxed at the sound of Hanni’s voice.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” you replied, voice hoarse. You kept your eyes closed. You didn't think you could handle Hanni’s gaze for this conversation. You felt her sit down next to you, her hand brushing against yours. You tried to ignore the goosebumps that followed and the heat radiating off her body.

It was silent for the next few minutes. After a bit, you opened your mouth to speak, but Hanni beat you to it.

“Did you really not know we were soulmates?”

“No,” you confessed. “I knew there was a small possibility, but I thought it was too good to be true.”

You swallowed as there was no response. “...How are you feeling?”

You heard her sigh. “Confused.”

“Can I tell you what my parents said when I asked them for advice?” You asked tentatively.

Hanni made a small noise of approval.

“They told me that the string doesn’t mean you don’t have a choice. The two can coexist. They said there are plenty of people who meet their soulmates, but choose to be friends. And that they can still end up in a happy relationship with someone else.”

You gave yourself time to breathe before continuing. "I know that what happened in the past hurt you. But, don't let that define your view on soulmates. I think love is choice as much as it is fate."

“Thank you,” she breathed out after a while. “I think I realized that in the past two weeks, but I’m just stubborn.”

“And just to be clear,” you started slowly. “I still would have feelings for you. Soulmate or not.”

You felt the weight of the world fall off your shoulders as she replied, “Me too.”

“Hanni,” you bit your lip to stop a growing smile as you tested the waters. “Are we still dating like you said?”

Your smile only widened as you heard her laugh. “That didn’t count.”

Your ears perked up as the sound of Hanni shuffling around filled the air.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing. Just keep your eyes closed.”

You furrowed your eyebrows as you felt something wrap around your ring finger, but your doubt quickly washed away as you recognized her movement. You waited for her to finish before opening your eyes.

You looked down to see a very real, tangible pink string connecting your ring finger to hers. You grinned as you tugged on it. This was infinitely better than the red string.

“Now it’s official,” Hanni huffed, turning away to look at the lake with the tip of her ears colored pink.

Your heart was full, it felt as though it could erupt at any given moment. “Thank you for choosing me.”

Hanni smiled softly. “And thank you to the string for leading us to each other.”

The two of you watched the sun dip below the horizon, bathing in the soft pink and purple hues.

You think that pink is definitely your favorite color now, though red would always be a close second.

("...There's no more secrets between us right?"

"No," you quietly chuckled. "That's all I have. You?"

"I..." Hanni cleared her throat. "Remember the first time we met? I actually didn't book the room."

You almost broke your neck from how fast you whipped your head to face her. "What?"

There was a guilty smile on her face. "Usually, I just storm into a random room and say that to kick people out. People just believe me and leave."

"Wow," you said in disbelief. Of course Hanni would do something like that. "So why did you let me stay?"

"To be honest, you were kind of pissing me off because of how long you were taking to pack up, and I just wanted to sleep," she admitted sheepishly. "But, let's just say that it was fate."

You rolled your eyes, but you were smiling. "Right. Fate.")

[minxiiwrites]

Wouldn't it be funny if Yoru, a grumpy, angry, gtfo of my face typa guy, literally dating an ADHD s/o...haha.....so funny....(not self indulgent slash es ar es)

PAY ATTENTION TO ME!!!

: Yoru(Valorant) x gn!reader 💮 Fluff, Headcanons

: Yoru who has an s/o that had ADHD and is super hyper

: Light swearing if you squint

Opposites attract cliche (barf /j)

If Yoru is crushing on you then it's super obvious because he plays favorites

You can barge into his room, wake him up at 3 am because you wanted to eat his noodles and he'd just sigh, call you stupid, and get out of his bed to get you noodles as you jump around in giddiness

Yet whenever Jett teases him about his not so hidden crush for you, he gives her the most nastiest glare that screams bloody murder

"You're lucky we're on the same team, otherwise you'd be dead."

Yk I don't even know how yall got dating but oh well it happened and Yoru is kinda loving it (he won't admit it and call you stupid though)

Whenever you have any sort of hyperfixation on anything he'd definitely sit quiet and listen

He has that face where it seems that he's just trying your words pass through the other ear which kinda made you insecure and just stop talking so that you wouldn't be a bother

but in reality, he's just socially awkward since he's not used to talking a lot and is actually listening to every word you say. He just doesn't know how to act

"I was about to check my phone for new messages from Brim but found this TikTok that made the most cutest cat crochet plush and then I saw this huge bee plush so I maybe wanna try crochet one day and.."

".."

"..."

"...and? When are you gonna start crocheting?"

"!!! Oh my gosh okay so—!"

He can find himself smiling just by observing your random antics and silly actions but immediately cuts himself off cause he's in public (and Jett's teasing exists)

Probably has a specific drawer in his room that has all of the random stuff you give him

A rock you found on the street which you drew a :P face on it. A small yellow balloon filled with water that can be used as a stress ball. A shiny candy wrapper you randomly found in your pocket yesterday. And yes, you named all of them.

He's always >:( and you're always >:)

One time the both of you were on the same mission which required you to go to Japan and once you got there you immediately started running around staring at everything you found pretty

And he's just walking, trailing behind you from a close distance, sighing an amused smile

His way of speaking is also different between you and literally everyone else

He's more chill, quiet when he's with you since he likes it more when you initiate the conversations (and he likes your voice AYIE)

And when he does talk, it's mostly joking and teasing you for literally anything

Compared to others though, he's super snarky and has a cocky attitude. A huge difference to his more soft approach with you

Phoenix calls this out once which made Yoru roll his eyes, called him a dumbass, flipped him off, and walked off like nothing happened all while looking like a grumpy cat

He loves it when you fight back with his teasing

When you playfully roll your eyes at his jab and retort back with your own tease makes his heart beat hard at the fact that you're willing to play along with him

Definitely is smug and smirking all the way whenever you talk back with your own playful grin

He seems like a bitter food liker, probably downs black coffee and plain solid matcha like it's the most normal thing ever

Or maybe he has a hidden sweet tooth :/

Some times whenever you forget to eat because of hyperfixation, he drags you by the ear and forces you to eat </3

Even though you insist you aren't hungry he'll still call you a dumbass and force food down you're throat

When you walk into a room and suddenly forget what the hell you were doing in the first place, he always manages to understand your mannerisms to remind you what your objective was

It's cause he stares at you a lot hehehe

This was like...two years ago idfk why I didn't post it LMAO

[vanfleeter]

Omnia

Characters: Jake Kiszka x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mostly fluff. Smut so minors DNI. Mentions of sex. Because what is a classic love letter without a little bit of smut.

Summary: Writing a heartfelt letter.

Today is Valentine’s Day. Normally the two of you don’t celebrate, which is fine. Not everyone does and that’s okay. You both mutually agreed to not celebrate but should either one want to do something, it can be something small. Nothing big and nothing expensive. In the past, Jake has just about gotten you something for that day, but still sticking to nothing huge and nothing expensive.

It’s always been a cheesy hallmark card that the two of you can giggle over. One year he found a card that plays music and of course it played the Hamster Dance to go along with the hamster on the front that held a red heart balloon and had cheesy Valentine’s Day saying on it.

So this year, that’s what you were expecting. A cheesy card hand picked from a gift aisle in CVS. Although, things didn’t quite go as you had expected. Still.. Nothing huge and nothing expensive.

Waking that morning you had found a bouquet of your favorite flowers resting on the nightstand beside your bed with a sticky note attached.

‘Omnia’

One simple word scrawled on the piece of paper. Placed delicately beside the bouquet is a red envelope with your name written on it. This was different. Normally he’d wait until after work to give the card and not first thing in the morning, nor did he ever buy flowers. Claiming he can buy you flowers all the time, nothing makes them more special just because it’s a holiday.

Sitting up in the bed, you reach for the card and break open the seal. You were surprised yet again to not find a cheesy card, but instead a handwritten letter. He’s deviating from the usual plan. Why?

Shrugging off the inquisitives, you pull out the paper and unfold it. Your jaw slowly drops as you find a completely handwritten letter all in his own handwriting. You’ve gotten handwritten letters before. A thing he started doing while away on tour. He’d write everything in a notebook, sort of like he was journaling. But instead of addressing some made up imaginary person, he’d be addressing you. Each day, he’d reaccount everything that happened, down to the smallest detail so it made you feel like you had actually been there.

Making yourself comfortable within the pillows and blankets, you begin to read the letter.

                                                                                             2/13/2024 My dearest love, I come to you in this letter to express my profound love to you. Normally you would be getting a cheesy Hallmark card bought from a CVS on my way home from work. Not this year. I wanted to do something different so here goes nothing.. Ever since I had met you, I just knew you were meant for me. I couldn’t stop thinking about you those first few nights after meeting you. I had to see you again, I had to know you. There was something about you that drew me in like a siren singing her song luring me to my death. Although you weren’t luring me to my death. Never mind, scratch that. You should know that I’m highly nervous writing this so bare with me.

You can’t help the giggle that escapes you and you burrow down deeper into the bed as you continue on.

I’ve never told you this, although maybe I should have. I feel like I should have, but nonetheless, I am now. I have loved you since that moment I laid my eyes on you. You had those beautiful eyes that just sucked me in and your laugh was so contagious. This is written in past tense but it still rings true to this day. I think the reason I never told you that I fell in love with you that day was because truthfully, I was terrified. So I lied and told you that I started falling for you when I caught you rescuing a little fly that got caught on a spider’s web and then proceeded to freak out because the spider landed on your arm. I was already in love with you before that, but it did make me fall harder. I still think about that moment. How hard I had laughed after I had told you to be careful. I was determined to try to keep up with this mysterious facade because I didn’t want to come across as the sappy, romantic kind of guy. Though we both know that that didn’t last very long. Slowly I started showing you the real me. The funny, cheesy, and sometimes clumsy self. You’re probably rolling your eyes at this and calling me a liar. Okay, I’m more clumsy than I’ll admit but I guess being clumsy came in handy because as much as I tend to trip over my own feet and fall, I know that I’m falling in love with you. Each and every day. And now you’re probably thinking, ‘Smooth one, Jake’. Yes, I know, I am pretty smooth.

This time you did roll your eyes.

I’ll be honest with you.. I wanted to write this in the most elegant way that I could. Everyone knows me to write these exquisite captions for my Instagram posts or to say profound things that most of the time make no sense to anyone. But I’m writing to you and I want to be authentic. I want to just be me. Jake. Your Jake. Your Squishy. Why you call me that, I probably won’t ever know but as long as it’s you calling me that, I’ll allow it. Anyways, moving on. There’s a lot to love about you. Your heart for one. You never fail to amaze me with the love you pour out. Whether it be your hugs, the kind smiles you offer, or the endearing words of encouragement, you’re always radiating love. Kind of reminds me of Josh. I know life hasn’t been easy but I’m proud of how you’ve made it through it all and yet you’re still pouring out your love like it's endless. And to quote my brother, love has no bounds. Especially with you. You’re boundless. You inspire me. And there’s more to your love than just your hugs and encouraging words. The way you express your love to me. Especially in bed. Have I made you blush? Good, because I love the way you make me feel when we’re in bed together, completely entangled. You make me feel good–so fucking good. Your hands, so soft against my skin as you drag your fingers down my back–and then not so soft as you scrap up my back. I’ll have to admit, it turns me on even more when you do that. Tells me that I’m doing a great job at fucking you. Oh you thought this was going to be a romantic love letter of me only swooning over you? Well, my love, guess again. Didn’t you know all the classic writers wrote dirty letters to their lovers? Don’t count me out. Back to the topic at hand.. Fucking..

You laugh again and bite into your bottom lip as you continue reading.

Making love to you is one of my favorite things to do. I love the feeling of being pressed up against you, feeling every curve of your body–from your beautiful breasts down to your hips, your ass, your thighs. God those thighs.. I can feel the way you clench them around my head as I’m fucking you with my tongue and dragging you to your orgasm.

You can feel the arousal beginning to spread between your legs, slowly soaking your underwear. Even in a letter he can make you wet.

But what I love to feel the most is you fully wrapped around me as you take my cock. Thrusting into you, hitting all of those spots that really get you. You are the lock and I am the key that clicks in place with every thrust of my hips, unlocking every single thing that makes you unravel in my hands. If I had it my way, I’d never leave that bed. I wouldn't mind being tangled up in the sheets with you every day. Not having a care in the world while I’m making love to you. I should probably stop this letter at some point before I make you a mess. But also because my hand is starting to cramp. I chose the wrong pen to write this with. So to end this in my true fashion.. In omnia paratus. I am prepared for it all. Prepared to love you for the rest of my days, or for as long as you’ll have me. I am prepared to endure all things with you–the good and even the bad. I love you completely with every fiber of my being and I still hope to this day that you do too. Happy Valentine’s Day. All my love, Jake’

Folding the letter back up, you press it against your chest as you bite back down into your bottom lip and squeal.

Pulling yourself back up into a sitting position, you reach for your phone and pull up his contact. Pressing the phone to your ear as it rings, you can hear the familiar ringtone down the hallway. It draws near to the room and you pull the device away from your ear as he steps into the doorway. He’s carrying a couple takeout bags of food.

He smirks when he sees the letter still clutched in your hand. “I see you’ve read it already.” He walks over to his side of the bed and sets the bags of food on the nightstand.

Setting the letter back down beside the flowers, you crawl across the bed and rest on your knees in front of him. You throw your arms around him and draw him in for a kiss.

“Would you hate me if I asked for a handwritten letter every year from now on?”

He chuckles but nods his head. “I could never hate you.” He says. “And yes, I think I can do that. I take it, you liked it?”

“I loved it.” You say. “My squishy.”

“Seriously, why do you call me that?”

“Because..” You slide your hands up his arms and caress his face in your palms. “You’re just so squishy!” You say as you squish his cheeks.

He snorts and rolls his eyes. “You’re so weird.”

Gripping his ass in your hands, you push him against you, already feeling his hardening bulge inside of his pants. You give him a smirk and he chuckles.

“Nice Gilmore Girls reference by the way.” You say with a giggle. “Guess that part stuck with you.”

He smiles and nods his head. “Kind of made sense in the grand scheme of things.” He gives you another kiss as presses his body tighter against yours. “Now.. Your choice.. Breakfast first or..” He holds up a finger in the air and pecks your lips. “I can recreate everything I wrote in that letter.”

“Breakfast can wait.” You say and begin to lift his shirt up and over his head.

_____________________________________________________

tag list:

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Want to be added to my tag list? Reach out to me! :D

(also if I missed you, please let me know!)

[madjackbrock]

Jacking Up Jill

The wiry brunette stood impatiently in front of the drive-in screen, rolling her eyes at the frantic activity in front of her. Jill MacGarrie casually drew a line in the sand with the heel of her sandal as she waited for her companion to get on with it.

“Don’t hurry or anything,” she sighed. “It’s not like there aren’t way better ways to spend my time than roasting in the sun…”

About fifty feet away, Jack held up a pleading hand for a little patience as he used his other hand to manically adjust an odd apparatus in front of him. It stood about five feet tall and looked like a film projector at first glance. At second glance, one would notice the odd shape of the lens, or that it didn’t actually hold film. A third glance would make clear that this thing, whatever it was, only shared a silhouette with a film projector, but no amount of gawking would make its hideous purpose obvious.

“Breaking the laws of nature takes time,” Jack insisted as he continued to fiddle. “And I’m almost done. I told you, I have a very specific set of skills…”

Jill rolled her eyes again, with such disdain that the effort was almost audible. “And I told you, they need to be put towards making me BIGGER. Now.”

Jack nodded quickly. “I get the idea. A little patience would be nice, but…lucky for you, we don’t need it anymore. It’s ready.”

“Lucky for you, not me. If you disappointed me, you’d be walking back to town.”

“We’ll still be walking back to town, babe,” Jack smiled, flipping a switch on the device. “And everyone will see us coming!”

There was an electric hum and an alien smell almost like but also entirely different from ozone. An indigo beam show from the not-lens on the not-projector, striking Jill squarely in the chest. She gasped as if she’d been struck.

Her second gasp was as if she’d been struck in a particularly sensitive area. It segued into a moan with little prompting. Her lithe body shivered and then shuddered and then convulsed, each wave of motion seeming to generate more of the girl into existence. She grew taller and wider by the second, meat and mass piling onto her frame as the formerly-trim girl got FAT as well as inhumanly tall. Chins and belly rolls and thunder thighs multiplied by the second as she continued to writhe in agonized ecstasy.

Jack took a step back to take in his success as well as secure his own safety. She was blowing up FAST, the last clothes she’d ever be able to wear shredding off her body like an overfilled balloon.

“Ohhhh…yesss….”

Jill’s voice was getting deeper, more baritone, surprisingly un-feminine as she hit fifteen feet, then twenty, then fifty in the blink of an eye. Jack couldn’t see past her massively-swelling tits, and then he couldn’t see past her newborn FUPA.

He shuddered as the wave of her body heat and the fine mist of her sweat swept over the area. How big was she?

After a minute that was also an eternity, her expansion stopped. She towered over the big screen behind her, over the treetops and utility poles…

Jack held back a manic laugh. “Ohhhh, baby…you’re so…HOT! I can’t wait to join you.”

A low rumbling emerged from the corpulent Titan. It took Jack’s ears a moment to realize she was speaking.

“‘Join me?’ You wish, you fucking runt. Zap me again. I want your shot of this thing, too.”

Jack turned pale, a cold sweat overcoming him despite the humidity caused by the giant girl’s presence. “But…but our plan!”

“I got a new plan. It’s called: grow into a fucking GOD. Zap me again. NOW. Or you’ll go in here for a while.”

The thunderclap caused when she slapped the hillside of her fat ass shook Jack to his core.

“Well…I wanted a big bitch. Shouldn’t be surprised when I got one,” he sighed, as he flipped the switch again.

Jill’s manic laughter rolled through the land like thunder.

[josephquinnswhore]

i'm having a kinda rough week and i just want pedro and reader lying on a couch in a living room and he's in one of his cozy cardigans, on top of reader while them playing his soft curls, giving him some kissies and he's slowly dozing off

i LOVE your writing<3!! and this is my first ever req to ur blog i hope u'll do it!!

(and i hope u having/had a great day <3!!)

Content - pedro pascal x female reader

Summary: lazing on the lounge with Pedro is the perfect way to spend your afternoon.

Word Count: 0.8k

Content warning: Fluff! Tiny bit of sadness if you squint.

Note: I’m so sorry to hear you’re having a rough week. I feel you, so imma write this for you. This is the sweater I imagine Pedro wearing. Hope you feel better soon and love this fic 🫶🏼 feel free to send me a message if you wanna talk to someone. Also I’m sorry this is short my brain is fried from being mentally in a bad place :(

After the week you’d had all you wanted was Pedro. Nothing more, nothing less. The stress in your life was building, like a water in a balloon begging to burst at the weight it couldn’t bare, like the balloon, you couldn’t bare the weight on your shoulders any longer.

Pedro had asked what you’d wanted to do today, how you wanted to spend the day, if at all with him. Of course you did, you needed him, he was your lifeline when things got tough. He would guide you through the darkness like a torch with everlasting batteries, as long as you needed him, his light never dimmed.

“What do you wanna do today sweetheart, hm?” The softness of his voice drew you into his comfort, the way his fingers curl around your hair as he scratches your scalp sends tingles down your spine in delight, relieving you of some thoughts that had been bothering you.

“Can we stay inside today, just wanna lay down an cuddle if that’s okay.” You notice how his brows pinch momentarily, you begin to wonder if he had wanted to do something productive today. Before you could start to overthink he takes your hand and leads you to the living room, and sits you down on your couch.

“Of course we can sweetheart. You get yourself comfortable, I’ll put on a movie.” With the palm of your hand, you squish the pillow that’s already on the lounge until it’s comfortable to your liking, it sinks under your head and the pressure that had built in your neck seemed to disappear once the weight of your head was no longer held up.

Pedro turns to you once he’s out on the movie; one of your favourites. The picture on the screen is almost hypnotising, your comfort movie being one you’ve watched hundreds of times, a fine distraction.

“Move your legs sweetheart.” He pats your legs, trying to sit near your feet but you protest, keeping your legs still. “Can you lay on top of me?” You make grabby hands at him and he understands, smiling at you as you beg for his affection, he shifts his body and gently lowers himself down on top of you, you open your legs to make room for his and curl your own around him.

The weight of him makes you sigh in content, he wasn’t worried about crushing you, you’d done this dozens of times; he knew when you’d asked him to do this you really needed it, there was never a time he’d denied your request, how could he? When he could physically feel your body relax u der him, the tension in your body melts like butter. He notices how your breathing always regulates and becomes more calm, no more deep and rushed breathing. The thing he loves the most is when your fingers curl around his hair, especially that spot on the nape of his neck.

“You’re so strong. I’ve always admired your resilience you know, you don’t always have to be so brave for everyone.” Although his voice is quiet, it still rumbles as it vibrates on your chest. The confession is sweet, like honey it sticks; you would remember this eternally. You reply with a kiss to the top of his head.

His head is on your chest, rising and falling with you as you take steady breaths. You reach up and pull the blanket that sits on top of the lounge, adjusting it to cover the both of you as he watches the movie.

You’re too distracted to concentrate on it though, too enamoured by the softness of Pedro’s curly hair, tugging lightly at the nape of his neck, you feel the goosebumps form on his skin as you do so. His body becomes slightly heavier as he relaxes into you, the weight creating a sensation of something familiar to a weighted blanket, but also weightlessness. You feel calm, like you never had nothing to worry about in the first place.

With your free hand you rub your hand up and down his left arm, he tightens it around your waist as he tucks it under your back, as if he could possibly get any closer. Pedro was losing it, between the fingers tangled in his hair and the gentle caress of your hand on his arm, his eyelids feel heavy, he feels bad for it. He’s meant to be taking care of you, knows how badly you’re feeling and wants to take care of you, but he can’t help it; it’s almost like a spell and he’s compliant in its entirety.

You notice him fighting it, eyelids fluttering open every few seconds and head jolting trying to stay awake, “go to sleep baby.” You mumble. The softness of his sweater between your fingers makes it easy to glide your hand back and forth in a gentle caress.

He had you; he always had you. You were never going to fall with this man in your life; he would catch you, every time, no matter how many times you’d fall. You couldn’t help the smile on your lips as his chest heaves and the little snores that escape his lips. Yeah, things would be okay.

[whipped-cheese]

FINALLY FINISHED THEM!!

Grrrgrgr it has been a wip for decades-

My fish babies!! Aaaa :D

Esmeray!!

Aaaaaaaaand Sulien!! :]

[click for quality]

Fish Duty au

EEEEEEEE!!! *Confetti!!*

Ramblings of a madman underneath-

-So, originally- just going to make sun- since I drew him in the little comic I made a while back, but then I decided , why not make a moon too

because-

you know-

no sun is complete without their Moon /silly

So rambling rambling rambling time, info dumping mmm

Wanted to distinct them with their own names-

Esmeray! (or just Ray) -(Sun)

Sulien! (or just sully/sul) -(Moon)

Esmeray means dark moon and Sulien means sun born c:

Sometimes I'll forget so if a say sun and moon at some point it translates to Ray or Sul-

-So the same logic as last time applies,

the lighter size of their face and body is damaged/very sensitive, so the eye that's on the lighter side of their face is very very foggy so essentially, they're blind on that side of the face, soooo half blind. Often causing them to bump into fish or other random things in their enclosure sometimes.

-Usually you only see ONE at a time, but NEVER BOTH.

Often leading visitors to assume that there is only one clownfish in the enclosure that transforms or something when it's night, but really, when it's daytime Esmeray is out y'knoww, entertaining, doing tricks, swimming around while Sulien sleeps and when it's night time, Esmeray sleeps and then Sulien is entertaining, or just glowing around, looking pretty.

You never see them both out at the same time, rarely.

Really unless it's something important or it's something special.

Sometimes they'll both cuddle together in their little cove..🥺 on their sea anemone bed

usually in the late evenings 4-5pm before Sulien gets to go out and roam for the night.

(ray can't fall asleep comfortably, without being close to his brother [happening since they were young] so sulien snuggles with ray until ray falls asleep)

-as I said before- later on down the line, when y/n begins working at a janitor at the exotic fish aquarium, our lil fishy frens kinda gets the memo after a while and starts to draw on a little area of sand that's infront of the glass to communicate and y/n started fogging the glass and writing on it to communicate, Ray (sun) doesn't understand words so they both do little drawings instead.

No one really knows where he learnt it from- but Sulien (moon) knows a bit of English, only a few simple words (hello,bye, mad, you, me, us, angry, food, help, feel,etc.) he also uses the sand.

Performance wise, esmeray does lil heart water bubbles, (or really just any shape, kinda like how clowns do balloon animals and other items) it's something he usually does for visitors, kids mostly. He'll wave, bow, press his face against the glass to be funny, do silly faces that makes the kids laugh, even some regulars that really want to become marine biologist, etc. that often visit the aquarium on weekends that he's very very fond of. He does loads of shows and tricks for people when they walk up to his case, very very active lil fella

the clown fish must perform!! :]

Sulien on the other hand, usually comes out when it's night time, so it's quite rare to see him considering he's mostly active during practically closing time- up until opening hours.

When people do have the rare chance of seeing him at the front of one side of their enclosure, he's not really that active in terms of show BUT he will put on a very pretty light show.

It's absolutely mesmerizing.

Those who get to stay and finish watching it atleast-

The guards are pretty avid on getting everyone out of the aquarium at the designated time.

He also sings sometimes, which is extremely extremely rare-

Guards working there for years have probably only ever heard it twice-

I'll be drawing (mostly sketches) more of them for a little<3

Also- before, I'd prefer posting stuff about my other au 'A Bad Teaser au /lust au' somewhere separate because it's slightly,eeeehhh just a touch suggestive- BUT

I'm gonna redraw and start posting stuff about it here.

Sooner or later (very soon- like I have loads of drawings of them but no where to put it, and I wanna share my suggestive whore men /pos /silly )

[sweetbunpura]

Sanctuary: A ballroom dance...

Rollo swallowed down the pit in his throat as he pulled at his collar of his black and golden etched suit. Tonight was the "famous" Night Raven Social, that Crowley hadn't thrown together at the last second, Rollo suspected this was a comparison to the social at NBC. Currently, the cafeteria was alight with talking from the other schools. NBC, some of the sister schools they had, and even RSA was here. While each school had chosen a representative pair to sing and dance at the ball, Rollo found himself being paired with Lady Homura... although at this point he shouldn't call her that anymore. She was Yuu, she was his love, and she was currently causing the ever growing pit that had returned to Rollo's throat.

His eyes followed the RSA pair of Neige and someone else, a long red haired boy, as they finished their dance together. The makeshift ballroom filled with cheers as the announcer came on a few seconds later.

"Alright, now for the last pair! From Night Raven College. Yuu Homura and Rollo Flamme!"

Taking a deep breath, he stepped out into the clearing and Yuu joining him. She was dressed in a elegant and beautiful black and gold gown to match Rollo's own black and gold color scheme. He gently took her hand and placed his other hand at her waist, he remembered how hard it was to even do that at first during all their practice runs.

"Relax." She whispered. "Just let the music move through you and follow the steps Vil taught us, okay?"

He took a few deep breaths and his body started to loosen up. "Very well."

She smiled as the music started. Rollo followed the steps flawlessly, in the back of his mind, Yuu's voice sang along with the lyrics like she had at practice. Her dress ballooned out as he spun her around, before pulling her close to his body. From the crowd, he could see everyone enthralled with the pair of them, but a majority of them had their eyes squarely on Yuu. A flash of jealously burned strongly in his stomach and he fought to keep his eyes from narrowing. The song drew to a close as they separated a few distance away, he bowed and she curtsied to which the song hit it's final note.

The effect was felt through the room as it quickly and very loudly filled with applause, cheers and whistles.

"I think we have our winners!"

Yuu's laugh was drowned out by the sound, but Rollo could hear it's velvet tones and he moved without thinking. Wrapping Yuu in a hug, he dipped her and kissed her.

[ilyasorokinn]

i'm in love with you , ross macdonald

note, this is my first ever thing for ross or ever even broaching this fandom, so please be nice! i'm nice i promise! pair, ross macdonald x reader summary, y/n y/l/n and ross macdonald being in love for 10 minutes straight, or some cute moments in y/n and ross' relationship. warnings, mentions of quarantine, getting a tattoo (nothing graphic) (lmk if i missed anything) word count, 3289 words

(gif not mine)

If people knew Ross MacDonald, they knew you too. You and Ross had been together since the beginning of time, or at least long before the first album came out.

You and Ross were complete opposites which was what made you both so perfect together. Where he was quiet and a little more introverted, you were much more outgoing and extroverted. You were the golden retriever and he was the black cat.

Fans noticed the sweet moment between you, so edits were made, and of course video compilations.

Ross MacDonald and Y/N Y/L/N being in love for 10-minutes straight

The first clip was one fans knew very well. It was originally posted on Matty's Instagram and then later reposted on every 1975 fan account known to man.

You usually went to the first couple of shows with them, but due to scheduling conflicts, you couldn't make it to the first couple of shows like you normally would for the "At Their Very Best" tour.

Unbeknownst to Ross s, your schedule cleared up so you worked with the band to surprise him.

The video started and the first shot was of Ross' back as he and Matty walked down the hotel hallway toward Ross' room. The camera flipped quickly back to Matty who gave the camera an exasperated face as Ross continued to drone on about something.

"Ross, just open the door," Matty begged.

Ross raised a brow but opened the door and was greeted to balloons all over the ground before you popped up from behind the bed, "Surprise!" You shouted.

Ross stared at you trying to decipher if you were real and if you were actually there. "What?" Was all Ross said before he dropped his stuff on the ground and tackled you onto the bed and hugged you.

The short video ended right as you pulled away from the hug to cup his face and pull him in for a kiss.

The next clip was taken by a fan. It was a little grainy and the fan's hands were shaking but Ross was clearly in the shot and he could be seen looking up to the higher level of the theater up to someone.

The camera then panned up and when the camera focused, you were the person Ross was talking to from the stage. Matty was talking on stage and Ross was trying to be as inconspicuous as he could as to not draw attention up to you but it wasn't working.

You waved and he waved back discreetly. You drew a heart and blew him a kiss, laughing when he looked away, seemingly embarrassed.

"Y/N!" Matty shouted into the mic, making the crowd go wild when they realized you were there, "Stop distracting Ross!" He looked up at you on the balcony as everyone laughed.

"Sorry!" You shouted back with a laugh, waving to the crowd and blowing them a big kiss.

Something the band did before they went on stage showed what they were doing behind the scenes, leading up to them walking on stage.

So, fans went wild when everyone first showed up on the big screen, all in the green room, getting ready to head on stage. The camera panned around the room and you could feel the walls vibrate when the camera panned over to Matty.

You were listening to whatever Matty was talking about while also tying Ross' tie. You took a step back and looked at him, "Good?"

"Good." You gave him two thumbs up. You were both unaware of the camera filming you, both too stuck in your own little world. You reached up and wrapped your arms around his neck and smiled, leaning into his neck.

He hummed, wrapping his arms around your waist, "I'll see you out there." He pulled away, a smile on his face.

"Yeah, and if you don't, it's cause I'm getting funnel cake." You joked and he laughed, "I saw a funnel cake stand when we were walking around."

"You gonna save me some?" You nodded, "All right, I'll see you after."

"See you after." You both met halfway and kissed, "Be awesome rockstar." You pulled away and cupped his face.

No one could tell what either of you was saying, but they could tell that it was filled with love and that you both were in love. You pressed a kiss to his lips quickly before stepping away and waving.

The clip then switched over to a picture of you and Ross that you had posted. It wasn't anything special, just a sweet photo of you and Ross after an award show, looking nice and dressed up. Your arm was looped through his as you both smiled sweetly for the camera.

The photo was just something to look at while audio from a podcast you had done played in the background.

"I'm curious, and I know a lot of other people are curious too, what is it like dating a musician who is as high profile as Ross?" The host, Katya, asked.

You nodded, "It's a question I get asked often." You smiled, "But I never mind answering it and I'll answer it as honestly as I can. I don't know anything else."

"Really?" The other host, Lily asked.

"Yeah, he's my first serious boyfriend, and we've been together since, like, 2011, like a year before their first album went public. I had like middle school and high school boyfriends, but it was never as serious as it is with Ross."

"That's crazy," Lily commented.

"I know, it is. But, it really is the only thing I know. The long breaks, the tours, the getting recognized every so often." You shrugged, "But the one thing that I never take for granted is because we do long distance for such a long period of time, it just makes us cherish the time we do get to spend together."

"That's so sweet." You blushed as they both cooed.

"So, having been there since the beginning of the release process, what was that like?"

"Crazy, after Sex came out, everything went so quickly and I barely had time to comprehend. Then their first album came out and I felt like a chicken without a head for a good year after." They both laughed.

"So, they really went from being not famous and working normal jobs to almost the entire country knowing their names and their songs."

"Yeah, and it was a little scary at first, not gonna lie." You all shared a laugh, "But seeing how far they've all come, I'm proud, really. I feel like a proud mom."

"So, do you have a favorite song?" They both laughed when you gasped.

"You're trying to get me in trouble." You shook your head, "Um, not really I love them all equally."

"But off the record?"

"Off the record..." You blew out a breath, "Chocolate."

"Chocolate." You nodded.

"Good choice." Katya reached across the table and gave you a high five.

The next clip was a series of photos taken by the paparazzi. You didn't get paps taking pictures of you often, but when you did, it was usually you two together, and it was something sweet.

The first photo is of one of you two caught at dinner, sitting together. It's a real cliche. You were sitting across from each other with a candle in front of you, holdings hands from across the table and looking at each other like the other hung the moon.

The next was one that floated around Twitter for a while. It was a photo taken outside of a bar where the band was throwing an after-party after one of their shows, and you were in the middle of hopping bars when the photo was taken.

You were all waiting for Matty as you stood outside. You were wearing a tank top and had left your jacket in the car and it was cold, so Ross, being the good boyfriend, stood close to you and wrapped his jacket around you and managed to keep you warm.

The last in the dump was one even you posted. It was you and Ross at the airport. George was seen in the back, but the main focus was you and Ross.

You were walking beside him, on the opposite side of where all the cameras were. You both had sunglasses on to cover the bags from jet lag. You were carrying a small bag while Ross carried a backpack and dragged along two suitcases and if fans looked close enough, they would be able to read the luggage tags with your name on them.

The next clip was taken by a fan, again. The fan was waiting in line at a meet and greet the band was doing. The group in front of her moved and the fan who was filming walked up, handing her phone to the other person she was with.

The first person at the table was Matty. She got her CD and vinyl signed before making it to the end where Ross was, "Hi." She smiled nervously.

"Hello." He smiled, grabbing the sharpie and signing her items. As he signed her items, she pulled out a bracelet from her bag. It was a little bracelet she had made for you with your initials and a heart with cute colored beads.

He looked up from the signing when he was done, "What's that?" He asked, a smile on his face.

"I made a bracelet for Y/N." The girl answered, a smile on her face when Ross laughed.

"Did you? Oh, my." He gasped when she handed it to him, "Oh, she's gonna love it. She loves little bracelets, especially when it's homemade."

"That makes me happy." She beamed.

"Would you like a picture?"

The next photo that flashed on the screen was from your story and it was a photo of you smiling while wearing the little bracelet the fan had made you.

The caption read 'Thank you to the fan who made this for me! I love it so much and love you all!'

The photo then transitioned into a video taken by one of the cameramen who works at the concerts. it was a clip that went viral in the world of The 1975.

About You was a popular song on the album and it had gone viral so most fans knew it. Most of the time, on tour, Polly sang it, Carly sang it, and while you weren't a member of the band, you could sing.

Occasionally Ross would come home and tell you about a song they were working on and you would give your input and he would take it back to the band, so you were an unofficial member of the band.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please help me welcome a very special friend to us all, in her first live performance ever, Mrs. Ross Macdonald herself," At that, the crowd went wild, "Miss Y/N Y/L/N!" You walked out onto the stage, waving to the crowd before hugging Matty and Adam.

You waved to the band, blew Polly a kiss, then met Ross halfway across the stage. You hugged and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before waving to the crowd again.

"You ready, Y/N?"

"So ready." You nodded, giving him a thumbs up. The music started. and you felt every nerve in your body go off. Ross kept glancing back at you, and when he finally caught your eye, he smiled.

You smiled back and took a deep breath. You closed your eyes as you sang the bridge, almost in your own world, "And there's something about you..."

Another video from a fan from a different angle was added. It was first on you, then moved across the stage over to Ross who was watching you, a smile on his face and what could only be described as the look of love on his face.

"...I never know what to think about." You opened your eyes and everyone went insane. You then became aware of just how many phones and cameras were pointed at you and smiled shyly.

"Ladies and gentlemen, Y/N Y/L/N!" Matty shouted into the microphone, making the crowd again go wild. You waved before blowing air kisses to the crowd and hugging Ross again.

"How was that?" You asked nervously.

"So good." He kissed your forehead briefly before pulling away and hugging Matty and Adam. Before leaving the stage, you blew more air kisses to George, Polly, and the band on the set's second floor.

"She's so great, isn't she?" Matty spoke into the microphone once you were off stage, and you could hear the crowd from backstage in response to his question.

The next clip was a photo and video you had posted on your Instagram. It was no secret that Ross was covered in tattoos, so after you and Ross were sure and discussed it, you decided to get matching tattoos.

It wasn't anything drastic or anything too flashy, but it was something simple you had decided on. It was just each of your initials and they were in each of your handwriting, so you wrote the first letter of his name and vice versa.

The photo was you standing side by side, your hands in the frame so it showed the initials tattooed on your hands. It was small and not really noticeable unless you really looked for it.

The photo then transitioned into a video of you and Ross getting your tattoos. You were sitting in chairs next to each other. His hand was in your lap and it was clear with the way you weren't talking and the look, you were nervous. Ross knew this, so he did his best to comfort you from the chair next to you.

"Did you know flamingos sleep standing up?" Ross asked, trying anything to keep you calm.

"Yeah." You nodded.

"Did you know that giraffe's tongues are pink?"

"Ross Macdonald, I love you, but you are stressing me out." You glared at him.

"All right, I tried." He raised his hands in surrender, "You still doing good though?" He asked.

"I'm good." You reassured, "Can we turn on some music or something?"

The comments were crazy after you posted it. They all found it cute that Ross was trying to comfort you with random animal facts and found it cute that you were getting matching tattoos of your initials.

The next was a series of videos taken by fans from the same show. You were outside in the front of the building they were performing, a big bouquet of flowers in your hands.

You were smiling and waving to fans, "Hi, oh, my goodness." You gasped, “It’s so nice to see all of you.” You stopped by the barricade of the fans and took some pictures.

A fan handed you a sharpie and you started signing things that they held out. It wasn’t anything you were used to, so it was cool.

“Wow, this is new.” You laughed, “I’ve never had people ask for my autograph.” The group of fans whose items you were signing laughed.

"Are those for Ross?" The girl next to the fan who was filming asked.

"Yeah." You admitted, and they all gasped then all cooed about how cute it was, "Most of the time, the flowers in our home are for him, not that he never gets me them, but I like getting them for him whenever I can. It's a nice surprise." You shrugged, signing your name on someone's CD cover.

"Do you listen to The 1975?" Someone shouted as security led you inside the theater.

"Of course! They're my top artist every year on Spotify!" You laughed.

During quarantine, you were locked in your house obviously, so, while locked in your home, a cat had found its way into your backyard and had taken habitat in your flower patch in the sun.

You documented the whole process of you finding it, watching it from your kitchen window, then finally taking it in.

The first photo you posted on your story was a picture you had taken from your kitchen window of the cat, who at that point was nameless. The cat was laying in your flower patch in the sun.

The caption you had put on the photo was, "My flowers may be destroyed, but we have a new friend!"

The next video from your Instagram cat story was a video of Ross walking out into your garden, in his pajamas. You both approached the cat who was now standing by a tree in your backyard.

"Here, kitty." Ross cooed softly as he approached the cat with treats in hand. You stood back a distance, filming him as the cat hissed at him, "Geez!" Ross quickly retracted his hat as the cat practically pounced toward him.

"Be careful." You called out.

"Gee, thanks." He rolled his eyes. He held his hand out carefully with the food in it. The cat looked at it before approaching him and sniffing the food.

The cat then started eating the food out of his hand and once it was all gone, looked at Ross expediently, "Well, I guess that's a good sign." Ross turned around and headed towards the house.

The cat hopped off the ledge and followed him, "Ross..." You called out in awe that the cat was following him. He turned around and saw the cat trotting along behind him.

"I guess this is a very good sign." He shrugged, opening the door to your home and letting the cat enter before he followed.

The next photo was a photo of the cat snugging in Ross' arms with the caption, "Meet Biscuit!"

The last photo of your saga was a photo of Biscuit asleep on Ross' chest, who was also asleep, on the couch with the caption "Just a boy and his father".

A fan account had posted the photos you had posted of Ross and Biscuit and photos Ross had posted of you and Biscuit with the caption, "mom and dad are officially a mom and dad".

The last video you and Ross had posted together on your Instagrams. It was only a matter of time before you got married, and when you posted your engagement photos, the fans went wild.

It was a professional-looking wedding video. It started out with you and Ross standing in your hotel rooms, getting ready. The wedding, from what fans, could tell, was small with only your close friends and family.

A soft instrumental version of Robbers played in the background as you and Ross got ready. Your dress was zipped up while he straightened out his tie.

Then you were seen walking down towards a garden towards Ross, who was standing with his back to you, and it was clear at that moment, it was a video of your first look.

You smoothed out the front of your dress before taking a breath and reaching up to tap on his shoulder. He turned around and gasped, covering his mouth in shock.

After he got over the initial shock, he immediately wrapped you in a hug as he tried to sort out his thoughts. Nothing you were saying could be heard, but 'You look fucking amazing.' could be read falling from his lips.

The rest of the video was shots of you and Ross looking more in love than anyone could've thought, but the last shot of the video was a pan out from your seats at the reception.

You were sitting side by side, watching your guests on the dance floor with your head on his shoulder and his suit jacket around your shoulders.

-

add yourself to my taglist!

[auralina33]

AU MASTERPOST

Since I'm finally posting more content about my AUs, I figured I may as well make a little masterpost of what characters are in it and what they're all about!

Information under the cut because this is a lot longer than expected! Also, both AUs will be written in different colors for ease of finding the information on each of them.

MEMENTO MORI!

Animatronic names

Glamrock Freddy - Glam

Glamrock Bonnie - Gloss

Glamrock Chica - Gala

Roxanne Wolf

Montgomery Gator

Moondrop - Luna

Sunnydrop - Sol

(Possible) Eclipse - Chroma

OC - Melody

Major human characters

Gregory Stand-In - Vivianne Whitaker

Vanny - Ivanna Harland, Vanna

Vanessa - Vanessa Coella, Anne

Side characters

Vivianne's younger sister - Olive Whitaker

Marketing - Luis Cabrera

Daycare assistant - Jenna Rusk

Roxanne's designer, makeup artist and hair stylist - Manuel Almeida

Sol and Luna's creator and general engineer and technician - Drew Vesper

Melody's creator and cabinet technician - Liv Rivera

Missing kid - Renata Gonzáles

Missing kid - Elliot Gonzáles

Missing kid - Cassie Arison

Higher-up - Beatrice Dara

Higher-up - Robert Buckingham

CEO - Dominic Arison

Symbolic characters

PRINCESS QUEST

Princess (later Queen) Ivie, Harewolf, The Corpse - Vanna

Princess (later King) Nessie, Lighthouse, The Exiled - Anne

The Duke - Glam

The Guildmaster (?) - Gloss

The Baker - Gala

The Baroness - Roxanne

The Knight - Montgomery

The Magician - Luna

The Jester - Sol

The Librarian - Melody

LET'S PLAY WITH ECLIPSE (BALLOON WORLD)

"Eclipse", Umbra - Vanna?

Eclipse, Saros - Luna?

Lullaby - Melody

More characters may come...

WHAT IS MEMENTO MORI ABOUT?

Memento Mori goes into themes of neurodivergency, loneliness, and the intersection between them as a major thing and arguably the most important underlying plot line underneath your typical FNAF SB plot. At the very least it's important to me.

It takes place in the year 2031, with the PizzaPlex having opened in 2025, two years after a canon-divergent FFPS. It's connected to my currently very under construction humanized FNAF1-FFPS AU, All Those Nights.

It starts off when Vanna, a woman who is tired of being nobody and determined to be remembered, sets her sights on the PizzaPlex to try and cause some loud, flashy tragedy that will make her stick in people's memory. With the help of her girlfriend, Anne, who she's known since she was a child and reunited with as an adult, since Vanna faked her death in her teenage years. Anne has a hatred for people and a disillusionment with the world around her, but also holds a sense of morality she tries to bury.

Vanna could have had some morals, but thanks to her past with street violence, she is very desensitized to her own horrible actions and much more ready to go through with this. She has a playful, friendly demeanor that hides horrendous anger issues caused by emotional dysregulation, buried self-hatred, and a sort of spite towards a world where she never fit in.

So, the PizzaPlex.

Through the course of six months, Vanna and Anne hack the Glamrocks one by one, and kill several people to try and fulfill Vanna's goal.

The events of FNAF SB proper follow primarily Glam as the protagonist, with Vivianne as a sort of second POV, as they try to survive, figure out what's happening, and save everyone, while also trying to find Vivianne's sister, who got stuck here with her.

There's also some side plots! Such as...

-Gala, Monty and Roxy slowly coming to realize that what's going on here isn't what they're being led to believe, only to be fully stripped of their free will to ensure they stay in line, something that happened to Melody a while before the events of the plot.

-Sol's initial attempts to get back to safety when they know everything's dangerous, from which they shift focus upon running into Melody, realizing something's wrong, and trying to find a way to help him.

-Luna being a looming presence through most of these plot lines, being just... different. In reality, it's Vanna keeping things in check, while Luna's stuck in the back of his own body, spectating.

-And Vanna and Anne's attempts to get everything back on track as Vanna starts to lose her temper and speed towards her own doom.

There's some doodle comics about Memento Mori floating around my blog, I may link those later.

SECURITY IS IN PLACE!

Animatronic names

Glamrock Freddy - Astrifer

Glamrock Bonnie - Noctifer

Montgomery Gator - Stellifer

Glamrock Chica - Sally

Roxanne Wolf - Rox

Moondrop - Tsuki

Sunnydrop - Taiyo

Major human characters

Protagonist - Bernadette Murray, Berry, Dettie

Vanessa - Vanessa Monroe, Nessa

Vanny - Valentine Lovett, Heartache

Side characters

CEO - Steve Raglan, previously Sammy Emily

Higher-up - John Burrows

Edwin Murray - Edwin Murray

Gregory - Gregory Ledger

Cassie - Cassie Burrows, possibly

More human characters may be borrowed from Memento Mori or concepted up

WHAT IS SECURITY IS IN PLACE ABOUT?

So this AU started as a "yes, and..." bit with a mutual about a FNAF SB dating sim. It's not actually super romance focused but I'm telling you this because the way the story is set up and stuff like the theming surrounding this AU's Vanny makes more sense in that context.

So, the year is 2005, owing to the timeskip between FNAF1 and FNAF3 being cut some.

The PizzaPlex, opened in 2003, has moved on from the horrors of the past. Or most people think that, anyways. Raglan, a king of coping healthily with grief, pulled a small funny move, and designed nearly all the Glamrocks after people from the past.

Astrifer is designed after Henry Emily.

Noctifer is designed after William Afton.

Taiyo and Tsuki are designed after the Puppet, and, in turn, Charlie Emily.

Sally is designed after Susie Beck.

Rox is designed after the Mangle.

Stellifer is exempt from this and an outlier in that. He probably was just bought from a different location and redesigned a bit.

Most people don't notice, or don't care enough to think too hard about it.

Valentine Lovett, the now adult younger sister of Susie Beck, isn't most people.

Valentine is a very sweet and cheerful woman who keeps up such a sickeningly pretty, lovely appearance. In actuality, she is a very disturbed individual whose life was ruined by her sister's death, as her parents couldn't cope with it and traumatized her even further by projecting Susie on her.

Valentine is someone incredibly obsessive and who struggles to come to terms with reality, and she sees the Glamrocks as a revival of people who should have stayed dead. So she's decided she's gonna be the one to make them truly gone. She's also a terrifyingly skilled stalker.

The story is divided into several "routes", with highly differing story lines. However, each character has their route jointed with another, and while the character you pick will mostly be the focus, the events will follow a roughly similar progression for both of those characters.

So, routes:

NIGHT GUARD: Astrifer - Nessa (Hacked: Noctifer, Tsuki)

STAGE CREW: Noctifer - Stellifer (Hacked: The opposite of who you pick. If you pick Noctifer, Stellifer will get hacked, and viceversa)

KITCHEN: Sally - Rox (Hacked: Rox)

DAYCARE: Tsuki - Taiyo (Hacked: Tsuki)

HEARTBREAKER: Valentine (Hacked: Noctifer, Tsuki, Rox, Stellifer, Sally)

ABOUT THE HEARTBREAKER ROUTE...

It is possible to choose Valentine within the story of SiiP. A sort of New Game+ possibility where Bernadette has the chance to meet Valentine early and bond with her first.

This isn't an "I can fix her" story path, however, it's a "She will make you worse" one.

Bernadette is someone who would very much do anything for a person they care about. At the beginning here, when they heard of Valentine's motivations, they thought she had a bit of a point.

So, they decided to help her.

I typically dub this story path's Bernadette either Darling or Heartbreaker, and the story follows their plunge into a full-on corruption arc that lands them as a true, full villain by the end of it, perhaps to an even greater degree than Valentine.

They carefully work their way into ensuring they don't get attached to anyone other than Valentine, manipulate the characters they normally would have bonded with and make them believe they're their friend, ready, at any time needed, to betray each and every one of them for their own gain.

Darling started out not as certain of this, but slowly came to realize they enjoy the thrill of being in control, and started to become a cruel, malicious and silver-tongued person. They still love Valentine deeply, but it's hard for them to truly extend that care to anyone else.

They become the closest SiiP has to a Mimic variant, and this story path leads to SiiP's own version of Security Breach within lore, which would be a lot more focused on mind games and the fear of not knowing who or what you can trust.

There's a Ruin DLC side AU spanning off of it too, but that's in the works.

Check out 1 2 3 for some in-universe information on Heartbreaker FNAF SB!

If you got this far, thanks for reading!