#fate drabble

[theperfectrose]

With HEX 2023 behind us and being only a few hours away from wrapping up yet another year, I just want to say a HUMONGOUS thank you to @fitztragedy and @skloomdumpster - the most wonderful duo of Discord admins I’ve met so far! I am forever grateful to you both for creating the Winxsource server where I’ve met some of the best people in the world (both of you included ❤️). I can only imagine how difficult it is to not only create the event calendar for the whole year but also keep it running and fixing up all the details in each event. Of course, we also have our wonderful mods to thank for streamlining the process (yes, you @septemberrie ) ❤️ So, thank you all for giving me a chance to be part of this wonderful group of people, for urging me to participate in events, and for literally making some of the worst days somewhat more bearable 🥰

It’s not much, but with a few free hours between plane rides, I whipped up a short Rivusa and Skloom drabble for my Rivusa and Skloom queens 😆 I know it’s short and it doesn’t even begin to express my happiness and feelings for everything you do, but I hope it does let you know that we in the whole server adore you guys 🥰

Ps. A huge shout out to the amazing and super talented people in the Winxsource server. I have never met a group of people that’s so brilliant! Each one of you guys makes me want to strive for better things and I am really thankful for that ❤️

Cheers to another happy year filled with Fate events and wonderful, wonderful art!

“I just can’t stand him sometimes!” Musa groaned as she slumped on the sofa in the suite, closing her eyes and letting her head fall back.

“What did he do?” Stella, the ever-so-subtle Riven disliker (to put it mildly), asked without moving her head away from inspecting her new soft pink nail polish, her tone matching the bored look on her face.

“I don’t understand it!” The empath sprung up, startling the other girl. “How can someone pretend to be so self-centered-”

“Pretend?” The princess quirked an eyebrow, still holding an uninterested note to her words.

“-and keep arguing with me knowing he’s completely wrong.” Musa jumped from her seat and stormed off to her room, only to return a second later and stride to the counter in the makeshift suite kitchen. “Idiot,” she murmured while taking a sip from the glass of vine she poured in for herself.

“Musa?” Bloom slammed the door open, turning her head around. “There you are! Come with me,” she said as she hooked her arm under hers and started walking back toward the door.

“Wha- Hey!” The empath barely got enough time to slide the glass on the counter, watching it oscillate and slowly stop. “Where are we going?”

“I have something to show you,” the ginger replied, pulling her out of the suite and walking fast down the hallway.

“But I have more to tell Stella. Ri-”

“Yeah, yeah, tell her later.” She made a sharp turn, her hand gripping the mind fairy’s tighter to make sure she wouldn’t stammer from the way she was practically running in the school halls.

“Can you tell me where we’re going at least?”

“Secret.”

Musa’s eyes flickered purple. The way Bloom uttered that one word made that little voice in her head that always pushed her to use her powers in situations that could be deemed intrusive rear its head. There were some of the usual emotions - a hint of anger enough to fire up her powers, a pinch of worry saved for everyone she knew, a huge amount of love. But none of those interested her; no, it was a tiny hazy dot the fire fairy tried her best to hide.

She knew it was wrong - Riven had told her countless times to stay out of people’s heads and not mess with them. But the fairy was hiding something and by the way her hands started getting warmer around Musa's wrist, the empath had a hunch it was something concerning her.

So she did the only thing she could think of at that moment that wasn’t going to hurt their friendship.

“Bloom,” Musa rooted herself to the ground, tugging her hand back, “What’s going on?”

The ginger pivoted on her heels, her eyes rampantly moving around. She tried to grab Musa’s hand again, but the other girl quickly reacted and pulled the hand to her chest.

Well, that was weird. Musa had never seen her friend react like that - something aking to scared, like she was running out of time. But the emotions she was feeling - excitement and expectation to the point the empath got dizzy from it - didn’t align with her actions.

“We really don’t have time for this, Musa.”

“Time for what?” She pushed, taking a little step back as a way to show her she was not only not going with her but also was ready to run back if she had to.

“Oh my…” Bloom groaned exasperatedly. “Look,” she pushed her chin up, the black pupils eating up their blue cuffs, “Do you trust me?”

“Bloom-”

“Do you. Trust. Me?” She put a heavy emphasis on every word, never wavering her gaze.

Musa felt defeated. Because of course, she did. The girl had saved them multiple times; Musa herself had put her life on the line several times so Bloom would live on to save the world. So how could she say no now?

“OK,” she muttered and started walking back to her.

The second she came a foot away from Bloom, the ginger grabbed her hand and started sprinting, dragging the empath behind her. She dashed left and right, avoiding a few students, but leaving Musa to crash into them, papers flying in every direction. And yet, the fire fairy didn’t seem to notice a thing - not Musa yelling for her to stop and certainly not the rest of the students screaming some very colorful words at them.

“Made it!” Bloom finally announced. They came before Sky’s bedroom, facing the door.

Musa leaned forward, her hands on her knees, and started bringing in all the air she could pull in tiny rapid puffs. It took her a minute to regain herself, after which she straightened up and began screaming at the girl next to her.

“Are you insane?! What the hell was that?!”

“Door,” the fairy panted, trying to point to the room before them. Bent forward, she held the same position as Musa had a few seconds ago, only her hair was flipped down, hanging in front of her face.

“Yeah, that’s the door to your boyfriend’s room. Now what the hell did you drag me here for?!”

“Door!” Bloom used every single ounce of strength she had left to look up at the empath and point at the door again. “Go in you idiot!”

Pushing her from behind, Musa hit the wooden rectangle before her - nose first. “Ouch!” she said, rubbing the sore spot and imagining what she’d do to her friend once she turned around.

But before anything else, the door swung open, and against her better judgment, Musa gazed up. She had a few other words to say, all curses of course, but they were gone as she was left there staring at the all-familiar green jades.

His features were soft, eyes slanted into two crescent moons, a gentle smile gracing his lips. The harsh lines of his cheekbones stood out from the light crashing into his back. He looked ethereal at that moment - his hand outstretched, reaching out to her, calling her, while rays of light protruded from everywhere behind him.

Musa was helpless, she knew that. She knew that no matter how mad she was at him, no matter how many times he’d say something stupid and get on her nerves, one smile out of him and she’d melt like snow on the first day of spring.

“You OK, love?” His hand still floating between them, Riven moved to close the distance but stopped at the last second. She felt a strange duality in him - one pulling him toward her and the other urging him to wait. “Muse?” He called her name in the sweetest notes she had so far heard, making her blush and place her hand in his.

Riven bit his lip but immediately covered it with a smile, hoping she had missed that tiny wave of relief washing over him. Because the second her hand had landed in his, the storm in his heart had settled.

He had been an idiot, no point arguing there. But there was something uniquely interesting in making his girlfriend angry. Well, he apparently had to work more on his limits.

The Specialist closed his fingers over hers, warmth sparking at the base of her digits and spreading like electricity through her body. He lightly pulled her inside, closing the door behind him.

One glance at the room and Musa was left speechless. The place had its usual arrangement - two beds, two desks, and a huge dresser. Only now, everything was covered in a dark shade of red and orange, shadows dancing over the walls and furniture.

Tiny flames floated in the air, casting different colors to every surface, reflecting in a million freckles of different sizes and shapes. Their tails curved until they broke free from the body, turning into small sparks that disappeared in one blink.

Riven’s hands snaked around her from behind, nuzzling her hair on one side, until he chose to rest his chin on her shoulder, sighing in contentment. That sound itself pulled the empath out of her daze and she turned her head to look at him.

“Wha-“

“I really am sorry, Muse,” he whispered, the color of spring painted in his eyes. “I shouldn’t have said that. Can you forgive me?”

His emotions were all over the place. There was a lot of guilt, plenty of remorse, anxiety, love, hope… She could get lost in the whirlwind only he knew how to create with only one simple action. But she loved it. She loved him because no matter how messed up he or she was, they both weirdly fit together, like two pieces of a different puzzle perfectly aligning with the rest.

“How can I not when you were ready to commit arson for me?” the empath giggled, turned in his hands, and kissed him.

��ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

“Do you think they made up?” Bloom asked, playing absentmindedly with her boyfriend's fingers dangling over her shoulder.

“I’m pretty sure they’re already making new dents in the wall next to his bed,” the Specialist chuckled and kissed the top of her head as they walked back to the suite.

“So what are you going to do for the rest of the night?”

“What? I’m not invited to stay with you?” he asked with mock hurt, adding a short and hitched breath in to drill in his point.

“Oh, come on.” She jabbed him in the ribs and continued, “I just thought you wouldn’t want to come since Aisha is there.”

Sky didn’t reply. He simply hummed and they kept walking, passing the classrooms and the halls, and going for the fairy dormitories. They walked hand in hand, with his other one still draped over her shoulders, pulling her closer ever so slightly on every 10th step they made.

It felt good to have her next to him. The smell of her cotton flower shampoo reminded him of his childhood days, running down the meadows surrounding his house, stumbling on rocks as the gentle breeze lightly tapped him on his cheeks every time he’d turn around.

The softness of her skin felt soothing under his ruff digits - years of training carved into them; tiny memories of his hard work, poured blood, sweat, and tears. But none of that came to mind when her touch neared him; when her touch barely hovered over his skin, leaving goose pimples skid over his body.

Sky sighed in satisfaction, feeling his body relax when Bloom replied with a sigh of her own and squeezed his hand gently. They came to the suite and she pressed the door open, revealing complete darkness.

“Where is everyone?” Bloom fumbled for the switch, hitting the wall several times until she got it. There was a clicking sound but nothing happened. “Aisha?! Terra?! Stella?! What happened here?”

The Specialist sensed her rapidly raising urgency so he put a stop to it before it went off the rails. He grabbed her hand and turned her to face him, saying, “They’re all out and will be for the night.”

His words were calming, spoken slowly and tenderly. It made the anxiety in her lower until it was only a faint whisper, and she let the tension out by exhaling through her nose.

“You could’ve told me.”

“And where’s the fun in that?” he laughed, pulling her in for a hug. “Now, ready for your surprise?”

Her head bumped into his chin with the speed it flew up. Bloom’s eyes sparkled in anticipation, a big child-like smile stretching her lips. She nodded several times, earning herself a kiss before he pulled her toward her room.

Opening it, the ginger let out a small gasp. The room was covered in flowers of all kinds, vines arching along the walls and the legs of her bed, sprouting small buds of different colors along their length. Several thinner vines fell down from the ceiling, their endings twisted in a spiral, holding bunches of yellow bells that cast a soft bumblebee-colored glow. It looked like the forest had been brought to her.

“You always say you want to frolic outside,” Sky said in her ear, kissing her temple. “So I brought outside to you.”

Bloom couldn’t dignify his actions for she could only stare at the view before her, mouth agape. She had always known her boyfriend was a softie and listened intently, hanging on every word she’d say. But that was something everyone in love did. This here though? It was as close to forever as love could ever get.

“You’re…” Words eluded her, her throat suddenly very dry and scratchy. So she didn’t reply anything more, but simply turned to him and smashed their lips together.

No, nobody could ever be like him. Bloom was certain that nobody in the world could come as close to being as perfect as Sky was. He knew her in and out and chose to stick with her no matter what. And if that wasn’t enough, he did things like this!

“I love you,” she said, breaking the kiss and pulling his head to hers, their foreheads connecting.

“I love you too, Bloom.”

[superbat-love]

Clark watched Bruce warily as he experimented with the string between them. Bruce had long ignored the red string of fate that connected them, but he could no longer avoid it after Clark had used it to stop him from storming out of a heated argument. Although only Bruce could see the string, Clark always felt its undeniable presence.

Recently, Bruce had begun to find practical uses for their bond. He usually used it as a communicator, tugging at the string whenever he needed Superman’s assistance.

Despite their growing reliance on this bond, neither really talked about the emotional weight of their connection. Bruce never initiated the conversation, and Clark hesitated to push the subject, especially when Bruce had only recently acknowledged the string's existence.

Clark had always assumed that Bruce saw their bond as more of an inconvenience until one day, Clark suddenly found himself able to see their string.

To his shock, it wasn’t the red he had expected—it was black. Traditionally, red strings of fate would turn black when a relationship was filled with rage and contempt. Bruce had been distancing himself because he thought Clark harbored resentment toward him.

But as Clark examined the string more closely, he realized something Bruce hadn’t seen. Their string wasn’t truly black—it was the deepest shade of red, signifying a mutual love that had matured and strengthened over time. Its color was so saturated that it appeared black to the naked eye.

What Bruce mistook for hatred was, in fact, a love so strong that its depth had been misinterpreted.

[hollyoongs]

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮

"Nothing will ever come between us 'Cause i'll be standing right next to you"

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: non idol boyfriend!jay and fem!reader 𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: SURPRISE MY POOKIE (a.k.a @glitterjay)! This is a little late, but some of your moots decide to surprise you with this gift...

💌 𝗠𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗮𝗴𝗲𝘀 [𝟓] @st4rwon: congrats on hitting 1k c!! you definitely deserve it 🤍 i absolutely love all your works and am so proud to see that they are being appreciated ! keep up the amazing work :) @hollyoongs: this drabble is for… jupi! I'm so glad I can have such a nice and lovely friendship with you and to be present in this big milestone, you deserve it so much and tbh I can't wait to see what the future holds to you, such an amazing, wonderful and incredible human being, congrats my 5'7 jupi! 💟 @kwiwin: Hey C! Congrats on reaching 1k, it's freaking awesome how so many people recognize real talent out there. Even if we've been moots for just a little time I am proud of you and what you have achieved! Keep stunning the world with your (beautifully written) stories ♡ @heeslut4life: hi c! congrats on hitting 1k!! i’m so proud of you<3 you’ve done so goddamn well, you have amazing fics and you are an amazing person:) i know we don’t really interact a lot but i hope you know that i wish nothing but the best for you💗 keep going, you’re such beautiful and wonderful person<33

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲 2: this is also a short drabble and you will definitly find some stuff here ;), HAPPY MILESTONE! 𝘄.𝗰: +1.8k

"And the first place, being voted on by 1128 judges, goes to..." 

And then your name was announced with your university, making you stand up after a few seconds of shock.

As you walked up to the podium, the weight of the moment settled on your shoulders like a comforting embrace. You couldn't believe it—your name, your university, Decelis Academy, being called out as the winner. It felt surreal, like a dream you never dared to have. Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring the faces of the cheering crowd into a colorful mosaic of joy and pride.

Glancing at your friends, their beaming faces illuminated by the glow of their phones capturing this momentous occasion, you felt a surge of gratitude. They had been with you through it all—the late nights, the doubts, and the struggles. And now, here you were, basking in the spotlight of recognition.

"Jay, look at your girl!" one of your friends shouted amidst the cheers, drawing your attention to the sea of faces. You couldn't help but smile and offer a small wave to the camera, feeling a rush of affection for your supportive circle. They had been your pillars of strength, propelling you forward even when you felt like giving up.

Reaching the podium, you accepted the prize with trembling hands, the weight of it sinking in with each passing moment. More than a thousand people had chosen your work and had seen its value and its impact. It was a humbling realization, one that filled you with a sense of purpose and determination to continue pushing the boundaries of your craft and enjoying it while doing it.

After the ceremony, the celebrations began in earnest.

The celebrations continued long into the night, transitioning seamlessly from the pulsating energy of the dance floor to the intimate ambiance of a lavish dinner party. Your friends, ever the consummate hosts, had spared no expense in creating a feast fit for royalty. The dining table, adorned with flickering candles and delicate floral arrangements, beckoned you and your friends to indulge in a culinary symphony of flavors.

As you settled into your seats, the clinking of glasses and the gentle hum of conversation filled the air, setting the stage for an evening of heartfelt camaraderie and celebration.

"So, my dear," one of your friends began with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "Tell us, what's next for the illustrious winner of the Decelis Academy? Any plans to conquer the world?"

You laughed, the sound bubbling up from deep within you like a spring of joy. "Oh, you know me," you replied with a playful grin. "I've always been a dreamer. And now, with this recognition, who knows what the future holds? The world might just have to brace itself for what's to come."

The table erupted into laughter, each of your friends offering words of encouragement and excitement for the journey ahead. They had seen you weather the storms, witnessed the unwavering determination in your eyes, and now they reveled in the triumph of your success.

"I have no doubt that you'll conquer whatever comes your way," another one of your friends chimed in, her voice laced with genuine admiration. "You're a force to be reckoned with, my dear, and I couldn't be prouder to call you my friend."

Touched by their words, you raised your glass in a silent toast, the clinking sound echoing through the room like a symphony of celebration. In that moment, surrounded by the warmth of friendship and the promise of tomorrow, you felt a profound sense of gratitude wash over you.

"To dreams realized and journeys yet to unfold," you declared, your voice tinged with emotion. "Thank you, all of you, for being a part of this incredible journey. I couldn't have done it without each and every one of you by my side."

The sentiment was met with nods of agreement and murmurs of affection, a tangible reminder of the bond that held you all together. As the evening wore on and the laughter flowed freely, you couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment settle in your heart—a feeling that, no matter what the future held, you would always have these cherished moments and these cherished friends to light the way.

As the night wound down and the last revelers bid their farewells, your friends exchanged knowing glances and shared secretive smiles. "Come on, let's take you home," they said, linking arms with you as they guided you towards your apartment. 

The car trip to your apartment was a whole carpool karaoke, playing your favorite songs and making the night more magical than it already was. There was only one thing missing, and it was your boyfriend.

Jay and you were a couple for three years already, both meeting at university by a mutual friend, who clicked almost immediately. From the moment your eyes met, there was an undeniable spark, a magnetic pull drawing you closer together. His presence illuminated your world, and his smile lit up even the darkest of days. In his arms, you found solace, warmth, and an unwavering sense of belonging. Jay was not just handsome and intelligent; he was the embodiment of kindness, his gestures tender and sincere, and his words a soothing melody that danced through your soul. With him, you felt like you had won the grandest of lotteries, for in his embrace, you found not just love but the truest essence of romance.

But the only problem was his usual business trips with his dad to help the company that owns Mr. Park, which you understood. You were okay with him not being there because he was always present, but it was hard not to feel sad about it.

As you stepped out of the car and approached your apartment building, a wave of exhaustion washed over you, mingling with the residual excitement of the evening's festivities. You bid your friends goodnight with hugs and promises to meet up again soon, feeling grateful for their unwavering support and the unforgettable memories you had shared, but being slightly weirded out by their suspicious smiley faces.

As you entered your apartment, the familiar surroundings enveloped you like a warm embrace, wrapping you in a cocoon of comfort. The gentle glow of lamplight cast soft shadows across the room, imbuing the space with a sense of tranquility that was both soothing and welcoming.

With a contented sigh, you kicked off your shoes and made your way towards your bedroom, eager to sink into the welcoming embrace of your bed and let the events of the day wash over you like a gentle tide. But as you pushed open the door, a gasp escaped your lips, and your heart skipped a beat.

There, standing in the center of the room, was Jay, your boyfriend, looking every bit the epitome of charm and sophistication in his sleek black suit. His eyes sparkled with a mixture of excitement and adoration as he held out a big bouquet of white tulips, their delicate petals swaying gently in the air. No wonder your friends were smiling like that.

"Jay? What are you doing here?" You exclaimed, your voice a mixture of surprise and delight. You couldn't believe your eyes—just moments ago, you had resigned yourself to the fact that he was miles away, attending to his father's business affairs. And yet, here he was, standing before you like a vision come to life.

With a smile that melted your heart, Jay stepped forward, his eyes alight with warmth and affection. "I couldn't stay away any longer," he confessed, his voice a soft whisper that sent shivers down your spine. "I wanted to be here to celebrate with you, to share in this moment of joy and triumph."

Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision as you struggled to find the words to express the overwhelming rush of emotion coursing through you. "But I thought you were..."

"Surprise," Jay interjected, his smile widening into a grin that tugged at the corners of his lips. "I wanted to make this night even more special for my sunshine, to show you just how much you mean to me."

With trembling hands, he offered you the bouquet of tulips, their sweet fragrance filling the air with a heady perfume that made your head spin. "To the sun I rotate to," he said, his voice filled with tenderness as you laugh. "To celebrate your incredible achievement and to remind you of the beauty and grace that you bring into my life every single day."

Overwhelmed by his gesture, you reached out and took the flowers, holding them close to your heart as if they were the most precious treasure in the world. "Thank you," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. "Thank you for being here and for being a part of this moment with me."

But Jay wasn't done yet. With a playful twinkle in his eye, he gestured towards the bed, where a small pile of gifts lay waiting, wrapped in elegant paper and adorned with ribbons and bows.

"I couldn't come empty-handed," he said with a grin. "I wanted to shower you with tokens of my love and admiration, to show you just how proud I am of everything you've accomplished."

With trembling fingers, you reached for the nearest gift and began to unwrap it, your heart pounding in anticipation of what lay hidden beneath the layers of paper. And as you peeled back the wrapping, revealing the contents within, your breath caught in your throat, and tears of joy welled up in your eyes once more.

Inside was a beautiful necklace, delicate and intricate in design, its sparkling gems catching the light and casting a mesmerizing rainbow of colors across the room. It was a work of art, a testament to Jay's impeccable taste and his unwavering devotion to you.

"Oh, Jay!" you exclaimed, your voice barely above a whisper. "It's…it's beautiful."

But he wasn't finished yet. With a smile that made your heart skip a beat, he reached for another gift, presenting it to you with a flourish that made you giggle like a schoolgirl.

"And there's more where that came from," he teased, his eyes dancing with mischief. "But you'll have to wait and see."

"I need to kiss you so bad." You didn't wait too much; Jay did that for you. His hand being placed on his waist and the other one moving some strings of hair from your face, lips connecting with yours in a tender kiss, you missed each other so badly that you could feel other hearts from that simple action.

As you separate, he touches your forehead softly with his eyes close as you feel the warmth of his love.

"Remember that I don't care about how far I am or what I'm doing; I'll drop anything for you, darling."

And as you stayed there, surrounded by the warmth and love of the man who meant more to you than words could ever express, you knew that this night would be one you would cherish forever—a night of love that knew no bounds.

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Flakes of Crystals and Snow || JJK x ACOTAR crossover

Tags: Satoru Gojo x Original Female Character, SuguShoko, Past SatoSugo, ItaFushi, slow burn, forced proximity, Mates/Fated Mates, Fae/Faeries AU, Fantasy AU, HighLord!Satoru, Smut with plot, NSFW

Status: Ongoing. 13/? chapters. 30k words so far.

AN: I have been obsessed with the idea of Satoru Gojo as the High Lord of the Winter Court for so long now. So, this story is surrounding an ACOTAR esque universe. You do not have had to read ACOTAR before reading this. I just drew a lot of inspiration from its world building. Sneak peak below.

*** *** ***

His hair was snow white. It was messily splayed upon his head. A crown made of the finest crystals was sat upon his head. His skin was pale. It was as if he had never seen the sun a day in his life, but he didn't look sick. He emitted raw unadulterated power. His facial features were sharp, strong. His ears were the most peculiar. They curved upwards to a soft point. It reminded me of.. an elf or a fairy from old tales. I found myself feeling sad that I didn't get to see his eyes beneath the white wrappings around his head. His lips were turned upward into a feline grin. He was wearing a black suit. It contrasted beautifully with his bright presence.

He had his head casually propped up into his hand. Two fingers were on his high cheekbone, and the other three were tucked on his chin, partially covering his mouth. He didn't appear to have a care in the world as he was gazing upon us. I couldn't see his eyes, but I could feel them on me. His legs were crossed in a leisurely manner. He looked so... bored.

"Kneel while in the presence of a High Lord." His voice was smooth. It felt like velvet. I could feel it touching me everywhere. His word was law. I couldn't find it in me to refuse. The two guards... my captors also kneels down on the ground alongside me. "State your reasoning for pestering me."

"A human was found in the outskirts." The gruff one stated bluntly. He didn't dare look up at the high lord.

"We didn't know what to do, so we brought her to you, my lord." The other more nimbly one said.

Silence fell upon the room. I felt like he was waiting for me to speak, but what do I even say?

"I... I don't know where I am." Warm tears grazed the flesh of my cheeks. I didn't realize it until now, but I felt so scared and alone. "I was just picking blackberries, and..." My voice trailed. I couldn't remember what happened next

*** *** ***

Read it here:

[ajaxless]

Yandere Soulmate

Tw: Death (not to reader), threats made against reader ig??? Idk this was a rather short drabble

Your yandere soulmate who shows up at your door one day, claiming he's your soulmate as he gestures to the red string connecting to both of your hands

Your yandere soulmate who uses it as an excuse to follow you everywhere, claiming fate tied the two of you together and now you have to be together at all times

Yandere soulmate whose string isn't as red as yours. His looks a little darker

Your yandere soulmate who begs, pleads, and cries about moving in with you

Your yandere soulmate who babbles about getting married asap

Your yandere soulmate who has a breakdown when you inevitably reject him for being too forward and guilt trips you into caving

Your yandere soulmate who isn't ashamed to admit he's been stalking you for several months before approaching you, knowing you're stuck with him either way

Your yandere soulmate who grows confident you'd never report him to the police because of your strings

Your yandere soulmate who has a weird, deep-seated hatred for your coworker.

Yandere soulmate who grows upset when you inspect the string too closely

Yandere soulmate who accuses you of trying to betray him when he finds out your coworker tried to see you without him present

Yandere soulmate who pressures you into quitting your job and letting him pay for everything, claiming that pampering you financially is how he shows love

Yandere soulmate who claims you don't love him enough when you try to refuse

Yandere soulmate who has a fit of anger when your coworker shows up outside your shared home after you quit

Yandere soulmate who dissappears with your coworker for a few days

Yandere soulmate who comes home like nothing happened

Yandere soulmate who constantly holds your hand to distract you from inspecting the string

Yandere soulmate who gets pale when you notice the little knot in your strings.

Yandere soulmate, who reassures you that it's normal, that the knot just marks the halfway part of your strings and to stop looking at it

Yandere soulmate who grows irrationally angry when you point out that the part of the knot in the string that connects to him is a slightly different shade of red than yours

Yandere soulmate who sleeps soundly at night, unaware that you stayed up to look at the knot more

Yandere soulmate who doesn't know that you realized the knot is what's actually teathered you together

Yandere soulmate doesn't realize you've untied your strings and found the ends of a new red string on the porch.

Yandere soulmate who wakes up too late and realizes you've unraveled his hard work

Yandere soulmate who watches you follow the other string to the woods

Yandere soulmate who follows after you quietly as you find your soulmate's decomposing body in a ditch

Yandere "soulmate" who tries to pry you away as you realize he severed you and your soulmate's strings and took his place

Yandere "soulmate" who pins you down, explaining they killed your coworker because they were his real soulmate, but insists he loves you more than them.

Yandere "soulmate" who ties your strings back together, not bothering to try and hide the real color of his string anymore

Yandere "soulmate" who drags you home and ties you up, joking about how his knot tying skills are improving with practice

Yandere "soulmate" who nuzzles into you while telling you they loved you so much that they defied fate itself to be with you.

Yandere "soulmate" who tells you that you can always be with your real soulmate, rotting in that ditch if you don't behave.

Yandere "soulmate" who threatens to untie the knot and tie it to someone else's string, then kill their soulmate too

Yandere "soulmate" who has you convinced that you're protecting another person from him by staying with him

Yandere soulmate who doesn't intend on fulfilling the threat of replacing you, but relishes in the fear and guilt on your face when you realize you're the only reason he hasn’t killed again

[jayflrt]

𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐁𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐒 04. 50% cut ???

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SUMMARY ▸ in which you work at the starbucks where heeseung is a regular at (and considered a public enemy). also he only goes when he’s stoned off his ass.

[chimerahyperfix]

This loop has to be the one. Nevermind that you said it last loop, and the one before, and the one before that, and most of the ones before that. THIS was the one you'd stop the King in his tracks. You push a few of your many potions to the side to make room on your desk. None of them worked to stop him, so they were useless. He's still about twelve, fourteen? hours away, so you have enough time to make the bomb, eat and take a fat nap before you go pick a fight. Maybe this time, it'll work! It has to!

You've gotten better at making the Craft Bomb. It hasn't blown up on you before you intended to use it in... a long time. You can make it fast enough, now, for it to still be light outside! You've become silent while you work, which Mirabelle has told you is ''worrying'', but you don't see why it is. Are you really that loud? (Yes. You are.)

It's hard work. Soft light bathes your desk, your work, you. You reach out, past your potions, and grab your water bottle. Take a big swig, and

Hmm. That's not water.

How. HOW do you keep making this mistake. You look at the bottle in your hand, and sure enough, it’s one of the potions; your water bottle is shoved in the back of the collection of other containers. The taste is caustic, your throat begins to burn. You shouldn’t be this calm for having just drank something that’ll kill you in a handful of minutes, but it’s happened before. Despite the pain you don't bother trying anything. Just push the finished bomb to the side and lay your face against the wood of the table. Feel the blood start to pool in your mouth and dribbling out, staining the wood. Mirabelle, or Euphie or whoever comes in next, they can use it this loop. It's not the first time you've drank one of the many, many dangerous potions on your desk, and it's probably not the last. Maybe you'll actually clean the crabbing thing off before you work.

Whatever. You have next time. You have all the time.

Perhaps a bit too much, actually.

[leifyposting]

Your name is Diluc Ragnvindr. 

Or are you misremembering again? You’re forgetful, these days. 

Your name is Diluc Ragnvindr. You are certain of this. It meant something, once.

It is so cold out here. At least, you think it ought to be cold. It’s probably a bad sign that you are starting to feel warm. Or… don’t some of the native Snezhnayans make houses out of snow? Maybe that’s the reason you’re suddenly feeling warm, warm and toasty, like you’re snuggled up by a fire. When was the last time you sat by a fireplace? Do you remember?

Your name is Diluc Ragnvindr. Your father’s name is Crepus. 

No, that’s not right, is it? Try again.

Your father’s name was Crepus. 

Right. Because you killed him, don’t you remember? 

It was an act of mercy.

Put your hands around his neck and squeezed until the life faded from his eyes. 

It was an act of mercy!

Or maybe you placed your hand on his chest and pumped flame into his heart until it stopped beating. Wouldn’t that be poetic, the coveter killed by the very thing he had so coveted?

Your Delusion gleams on your chest, the same colour as the blood that’s blooming on the snow underneath you. It winks out at you from the bird that adorns your coat, like it knows something you don’t know, like it knows something you have forgotten. You have forgotten a lot, lately. 

He would have died from his injuries anyway. You simply couldn’t watch him suffer anymore.

Does that help you sleep at night?

No. It doesn’t. 

You haven’t slept well in a while. Three years, now; three years of tossing and turning and waking up from nightmares in a cold sweat. You can mark the time down to the day. No one tells you that when you turn 18 you forfeit any claim you had to a good night’s rest. That happens to everyone, right? Or is it just you? What happened on your 18th birthday that robbed you forevermore of rest? 

What else do you remember?

You have one brother. 

Oh?

Had one brother. His name is Kaeya. 

What happened to him?

You… You don’t remember. 

You do. Try harder. 

You don’t remember. 

He can’t have meant that much to you, then. 

He did! He does!

Then why don’t you remember?

You… 

Red against the night sky. Raindrops hit your blade and sizzle, sending steam into the air. You swing your claymore blindly, your vision obscured by flame, towards someone standing in front of you. Are you aiming for him, truly? Are you simply overtaken by grief? Either way, the effect is the same. When the steam clears, there is frost on the ground — an acknowledgement of the gods’ favour upon him. You turn and do not look at him again.

You had a fight, the two of you. 

Ah, there we go. What about?

It was after your dad died. 

And?

And he told you… something. Something that made you hurt him. Why can’t you remember?

Was it important?

It felt important at the time. 

And now?

Now it doesn’t seem worth much of anything. 

The snow is melting underneath you. You have always run hot, even before you received your Vision. You sink further into the snowdrift and it cradles your body like the mother you never knew. High, high up above you, an eagle makes slow circles in the air. You try to look around, but you are too weak to lift your head. 

Death has a way of putting things into perspective.

You’re not dying. Are you?

Sure looks like you’re dying, little prodigal. 

Kaeya will save you. He always has before. 

Kaeya’s not coming. You disowned him, remember? You tried to kill him. 

You didn’t mean it. 

That doesn’t change what you did. And now there is no one but yourself to save you. 

You remember… a boy on his knees in front of you, cradling a newly granted Vision to his chest. You remember the charred sleeves of his jacket, the skin of his arms raw and red, the blood that’s oozing from underneath his eyepatch. You remember the look of horror on his face. You don’t remember what you did to put it there. You don’t remember who he is. You don’t remember who you are.

It is so cold out here.

Stop that. 

And you are so tired. 

Enough of this. Who are you?

You don’t remember. 

Think. 

You don’t remember. 

Who are you?

Your name is– Your name is Diluc Ragnvindr. 

And?

You are 21 years old. Your father’s name is Crepus. Your brother Kaeya…

You hear crunching on the snow behind you. Footsteps, growing louder and faster as they spot you. A flash of blue in your peripheral vision, half obscured by the blood in your eye. Kaeya? Is that Kaeya?

Your brother Kaeya is not coming to save you.

Someone sinks to their knees next to you. “Gods, kid. Always getting yourself into trouble, aren’t you?” A woman’s voice. She gets her arms underneath you and lifts. You feel the earth fall away, blood and melted snow dripping from your coattails. “Let’s get you home.”

You don’t remember what home is. 

Yes, you do.

You remember a fireplace. The smell of wine. The feel of dirt beneath your feet, the gleam of a crystalfly outside your window, the dense heat of a summer evening before a storm. You remember a woman’s voice, gently chiding you for trekking mud into the house. You remember your brother’s obnoxious grin as he bends to take his boots off, ever the rule-follower. 

That’s not the home she’s taking you to.

You know that. She’s taking you back to headquarters.

Is that a good thing?

They will keep you from dying.

Is that all you want?

That’s all you deserve. 

But is that all you want?

No. It isn’t. 

Oh, little prodigal. Isn’t it time to go home?

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Twice Seals The Fate***

Title: Twice Seals The Fate ***

Pablo Schreiber x GF Reader

Warning: NSFW, SMUUT, Cursing, Male & Female Receiving, Mild Crude Language, Fluff, 18+ Mature Content, Unprotected Lovin, Implied Preggo Talk

Words: 4.2k

Summary:  While Pablo is on location filming the latest season of HALO, you pay him a visit after a nice chunk of time frees up on your calendar. One morning you wake to see him mid workout and laying eyes on this sight, there is only one possible outcome.

Note: I couldn’t resist this one. You’re welcome!

Thank you all for reading. I appreciate it. I hope you enjoy this.

If you enjoyed it, please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!!!

***NOT Edited/Proofread***

~~~~~~~~

 Chirp-Chirp, Chirp-Chirp.

 The sound was so soft you almost missed it. However, the bevy of animal sounds continued.

 Chirp-Chirp, Chirp-Chirp.

Squawk- Squawk, Squawk - Squawk.

Neeeeeeigh.

Moooooo.

 “Mmm.”

 You groaned feeling as if you’d put yourself through a rigorous two-hour workout. You rolled to your right and your arm flopped onto a pillow—an empty pillow. It took a few moments but when your brain registered that and the sounds you were hearing your head flew up. The brightness around you felt unnatural as if it was artificial. Squinting, you looked around and immediately didn’t recognize your surroundings.

 “What the--.”

 It took nearly a minute for you to remember the last 24 hours. Your head was heavy and everything hazy. You got bits and pieces of your travels. You on the plane after agreeing to make a long-awaited visit to none other than the love of your life. It was a trip you’d both been unable to make but also reluctant to make.

 Your schedule was insane as was Pablo’s thanks to him being on location filming the second season of Halo. To make things worse you hated flying after the two scares you’d had. Flying was the bane of your existence, and you could never do it unless you drank your way through it. Not even Valium fully worked on you, so you incorporated some self-medication—liquor.

 You groaned again as it all came back. 4 valiums, 4 bottles of wine and an eight-hour flight took you all the way out. When you’d gotten off the plane you were more than tipsy. You cringed thinking you may have embarrassed yourself or Pablo when he and his assistant picked you up.

 “Oh god, Y/N,” you croaked as you flipped onto your back.

 You knew you’d gotten into the wrong career for the level of shambles you found yourself in whenever you had to fly. Nothing worked. Pablo knew this and had always been so supportive of you with working around it and it only made you love him even more. You replayed a memory from last night of Pablo putting you in the bathtub and giving you a bath like an actual toddler then tucking you in forehead kiss and all.

 “Oh god.”

 Guilt filled you. He’d probably had a long day on set and needed to be taken care of and loved on too, but you were so out of it he’d ended up taking care of you. Knowing him he was probably feeling guilty making you come all the way out. At the thought of him, you looked beside you and found his side empty. You sat up with the intention to go looking for him but the view out the sliding doors held you captivated.

 “Wow.”

 Thankfully your legs were in full working order now. You walked over to the doors and marveled at the view before you. As far as the eye could see it was white with peeks of greenery. The expansive field was so wide and free of clutter, litter, and people that you could not help but step outside onto the veranda. The crisp, fresh air hit you and it was clear you weren’t in LA anymore.

 Despite the strong chill in the air thanks to the freshly fallen snow, you couldn’t find one fault. This may actually be heaven, you thought to yourself. Off to the left you saw the responsible parties for the farmland orchestra. There were actual cows grazing in the pasture like they had not one care in the world and free roaming horses.

 “Must be nice.”

 A flock of birds passing overhead caught your eye and you watched them flit merrily in the air as their song echoed around. This view and atmosphere made up for the eight-hour nightmare. You took a few more moments to enjoy the view but when the cold got too much to bear in your state of undress, you then went back inside to brush your teeth before finding Pablo.

 When you made your way through the quiet house you wondered if he’d left to set already. Peeking into rooms you found them Pablo free. You thought to go back to the bedroom for your phone to call him but decided to look everywhere first. Turning the corner, you expected to be the only one there, but you stopped in your tracks as the most delicious sight laid before you that cleared any residual haze in your brain.

 Pablo was in the center of the large and minimalistic living room with his back braced on a rolling sit up wheel with his arms behind his head. His feet were firmly planted on the hardwood floors with a pair of brown sweats sitting dangerously low. From the angle you stood you could count each and every ab muscle that popped from his perfect form.

 Slowly, you raked your eyes over every inch of skin that was on display. Have mercy you thought. The pictures he’d been sending you over the last three months had not done an ounce of justice to what you were looking at now. From the pictures he looked good yes, and you’d wanted to run your hand along every inch of him, but in front of you now, you wanted so much more.

 You watched him use the contraption underneath him, no doubt a new torture device from Eddie. He rocked forward and brought himself into a crunch and if it was possible those abs popped even more. He held the position and the longer he did the more parched you became. Thanks to those low sitting sweats you could see those brain numbing indentations at his sides that disappeared inside those now annoying sweats. Your eyes lowered and caught sight of a half-asleep monster skimming the surface.

 Without thought you licked your lips. Pablo rolled backward releasing the position he’d been holding and arched himself back. Your eyes roamed up his sweat glistened body to see he wore headphones. He probably had no idea you were up much less ogling him like this. You slowly and carefully walked into the room taking care to not make a sound. Once you came around him and stood just between his legs you took the time to admire him some more.

 His usual fit and build were always impressive to you because he always kept himself in good shape no matter what. However, his Halo level of fit was insane, and you thanked the producers every day that they’d chosen him for the role and that he was so dedicated to portraying an authentic master chief. Needless to say, your sex life since had been at a whole new level of explosive. It was a level you didn’t think was possible since you were already at wildfire levels.

 Before he could move you dropped down onto your knees and hooked your fingers into the waistband of his sweats and pulled them down. As soon as they moved, Pablo flinched swinging his head up to land on you. Your attention was taken by the half soft meal you’d revealed.

 “Jesus! Y/N, you scared the shit out of me!”

 “Did I?”

 You looked at him without moving your head, so it was only your eyes that bored into him. You always knew this made him weak. Sure enough, Pablo groaned.

 “God, don’t look at me like that.”

 Smirking, you wrapped your hand around his length that was much firmer than seconds ago.

 “Mmm. Looks like you like being scared and the way I’m looking at you.”

 Pablo scoffed and made a move to get off the wheel, but you gently squeezed him.

 Groaning, he met your eyes again. “What’re you doing? You know that’s not a toy, right?”

 “No? I thought it was my toy?”

 His clear hazel eyes darkened as the tip of his tongue dipped out to wet his bottom lip.

 “No worries, I’m not looking for a toy right now…just a snack.”

 You tipped your tongue and licked from the base of his cock to the smooth tip. A deep moan that sounded like a big cat’s purr rumbled in Pablo’s chest and filled the room. You loved hearing him moan.

 “I’m—I’m sweaty. Let me--.”

 His words were cut off by another moan when you sucked his head into your mouth and moaned on it hoping that was answer enough for him.

 “Uuugh!”

 Pablo’s head dropped back to hang down as you swirled your tongue around him quite enjoying the slight saltiness to his skin. A wave of hunger hit you so hard that you couldn’t control yourself. Dipping your head lower, you took him into your mouth until he touched the back of your throat.

 Pablo hissed as his head flung back up to watch you. Using his hands, he bracketed your head holding you gently. His mouth fell open as if he’d planned to say something, but no sound came. Rotating your head from left to right you rolled your tongue along the underside of his shaft.

 “Fuuuuck!”

 “Mmmm.”

 Pablo’s grip tightened. It wasn’t enough to hurt you but just enough to let you know he was quickly losing control.

 “God baby,” he breathed keeping a close eye on your mouth.

 You slowly bobbed on him bringing your mouth all the way down so your top lip brushed against the spray of dark neatly trimmed hair there then up just until his swollen tip slipped out of your mouth. When it did, he grunted and thrusted upward showing his eagerness to be back inside your mouth.

 “Shit Y/N,” he muttered through trembling lips.

 That wasn’t the only thing that was trembling. From the way his body shook, you could tell he was quickly getting to the point where his muscles would give way. Increasing the power of your suck, you clamped onto his need and moaned. Suddenly Pablo jerked up sending his arousal down your throat tempting your gag. Suppressing it, you pulled back lifting your mouth off of him leaving a trail of thick saliva.

 “For fuck’s sake,” Pablo rasped before he yanked you to him. Your body crashed to his and it was at the last moment that you worried the wheel underneath him would break that Pablo smoothly held you to him, rolled to the right while cocooning you so you didn’t feel the impact of the wooden floors.

 “I’ve missed you so much, dollface.”

 You smiled and smoothed the back of your hand against his bristled cheek.

 “I missed you too. I’m sorry about--.”

 That was all you got out before Pablo’s lips pressed to yours for your first kiss in months. You both moaned against each other as your lips sweetly danced together reacquainting themselves with the feel of the other. When you felt Pablo readjust himself so he was perfectly nestled between your legs, you moaned at the heaviness of his length pressed against your core. His lips sped and the kiss turned desperate, urgent, and so much more sinful. He kissed you like a hungry man. A man who’d had to go months without sustenance and couldn’t get enough now with his first taste.

 Soon you both were wildly making out on the floor pawing at each other wherever you could. The t-shirt that you’d found yourself in when you awoke was now pushed to your hips exposing your lower half where you only wore one of Pablo’s boxers. His large hand snaked underneath the shirt to cup your bare breast. You arched thrusting it further out to him like a sacrificial offering. Pablo groaned then buried his head into your neck where he nipped, licked and sucked your skin.

 “Oh Pablo.”

 His roughened thumb swiped across your nipple once, then twice before he flicked the now hardened peak.

 “Yes,” you breathed.

 As one hand cupped your breast, the other dipped inside those boxers and found where you wanted him the most. A high-pitched gasp left your lips when Pablo’s fingers dipped between your folds.

 “Mmmmm,” Pablo rumbled finding you already wet for him.

 Pablo then pressed his forehead to yours as his fingers explored the slickness between your thighs.

 “Fuck dollface, you’re already wet for me?”

 You nodded unable to find your voice. He scissored your clit between his fingers and slid them up and down sending such powerful sparks of pleasure through you, you nearly came right then.

 “Aaah!”

 Pablo must have sensed it because his body stiffened, then he slid one finger home into your core. You both groaned in unison. It wasn’t nearly enough but it was still so fucking good and so much more than you’d had all these months. When you opened your eyes, you found Pablo’s hazel ones locked on you. His mouth was slightly ajar as he continued dipping into your cavernous heat one centimeter at a time. When he’d finally sent that one digit as far as it could go, he curled it up making your eyes roll to the back of your head.

 “You’re so tight. It’s like I’ve never claimed this sweet little pussy as mine.”

 You whimpered when he hooked his finger deeper.

 “Fuck, I’m going to have to teach her again how to take me, huh?”

 You nodded.

 “I can’t hear you dollface.”

 Pablo added another finger rotating his wrist, so his fingers spiraled inside of you.

 “Ye—ye—yes, yes, yes!”

 As if on their own, his fingers pulled out of you only to slam back in again and again before Pablo pulled them out completely. You watched as he licked them clean like a man with his favorite flavored cone.

 “You taste as good as I remember. I want more.”

 Before you knew it, Pablo had flipped you so you were straddling him with his thick, hard cock pressing against your sex. The feel of him nestled between your legs but not inside of you was so tempting that you couldn’t resist ricking against him using your slickness to ease your glide.

 “Aah,” Pablo growled gripping your hips but not stopping you.

 You began slow but that didn’t last. After the second or third rock you were quickly rubbing yourself against his need half using him for your own pleasure and half teasing him. The only sounds in the living room were your combined panting and moaning. Pablo’s grip on your hips tightened and soon he was pulling you toward his face.

 When his mouth latched onto your clit you instinctively bucked against him swiping your pussy across his mouth and nose. Pablo moaned then locked his arms around your waist holding you right where he wanted. His tongue set the pace telling you that he planned on devouring you until you were breathless and trying to run away and even then, he wouldn’t let you.

 Before even three minutes had passed you were so close, and he knew it from the way your moans turned to mewls and mewls turned to pants then finally whines.

 “Ah, ah, ah, Pa—oh my god!”

 You tried to pull away, but his arms held you tighter and deciding to just lose yourself to the pleasure you rocked on him, riding his face. Your wail of pleasure echoed throughout the house as your orgasm crept up on you taking you by surprise. Pablo moaned as he lapped at your flesh taking every drop you gave him. Even then he didn’t releasee you, he kept on coaxing another.

 Trying to pry yourself from him was futile so you gave yourself to the wild, consuming feeling bubbling within you. A feeling that threatened complete destruction and rebirth, a feeling that wanted as much as it would give, a feeling that was almost terrifying in the way that it made you feel so utterly out of control, but you didn’t run from it. You found Pablo’s eyes on you, and you lost your shit. You came so hard you nearly fell back on him. If it weren’t for his strong arms holding you, you were sure you would have.

 The next thing you knew you were cocooned in Pablo’s arms with your head resting in the crook of his beauty mark speckled neck while straddling him. Your eyes met and your hearth thundered even more.

 “Hi,” Pablo whispered before kissing the tip of your nose.

 “Hi.”

 “I’m sorry, I took too much too soon,” Pablo said.

 Your brow crinkled. “Too much?”

 “After flying, now with jet lag, I should have--.”

 You cut him off with a kiss. When you felt his hardness lurch underneath you, you realized then you’d blacked out and he hadn’t come yet. This man was too good to you. Kissing him with renewed need, you shifted just a little so his cock was between your bodies throbbing against your belly. Then you shifted onto your knees and hovered just above his length. Every time your wet entrance grazed the tip of his need he flinched and stiffened.  He was barely hanging on.

 “You haven’t taken enough.”

 You then slid down taking him inside of you inch by slow inch. Pablo threw his head back and clenched his jaw. His Adam’s apple bobbed uncontrollably tempting you to nip him which you did. Biting down on his skin you marked him not caring who saw it. Pablo groaned, wrapped his arms around you and pulled you down onto him filling and stretching you to capacity.

 “Fuck!”

 Pablo shook as he held you still. Every muscle in his back and chest jerked, then clenched and unclenched. He was right, he would have to teach you how to take him again. You were so impossibly full of him you were tethering on that fine line of pleasure and pain, and it drove you mad.

 “So tight, so fucking tight,” Pablo muttered allowing his vulnerability to shine through his voice.

 You slowly raised off of him allowing a few inches to slip from you before lowering yourself again. When you did, Pablo whimpered. Doing it again and again his reaction to you only intensified. By the time you’d picked up your speed both of your pleasure had synced. It felt as if you could feel his pleasure and he could feel yours. You were on the same seesaw ebbing back and forth, up and down on the way to the most powerful shared orgasm.

 “You’re so beautiful,” Pablo whispered into your ear before he bit your lobe.

 “Mmm. You feel incredible baby,” you countered.

 “Did you miss my cock dollface?”

 You nodded before you bit onto his bottom lip then sucked it into your mouth. Pablo squeezed your hips then began moving you on him. First, he rocked you back and forth then lifted you up and down slamming you down every time. By the time you were seeing stars behind your eyes, you pushed him back, so he laid down onto the floor, then lifted his t-shirt off of your body. Pablo’s eyes immediately dropped to your breasts and seconds later his hands cupped them.

 Using him as an anchor you planted your hands on this ripped torso then bounced on him. With every crash down onto him the goosebumps on your flesh beaded tighter and tighter, your telltale sign you were close.

 “I’m so close baby.”

 “Come for me dollface. Come all over this cock.”

 The man was an expert dirty talker. You didn’t stand a chance. As if on command, you did just that. As the sensation wrapped you up and took over you sat on top of him allowing yourself to fully let go after so many months apart. Pablo gripped your hips then jackhammered up into you inching your closer and closer to another release.

 “Ah, ah aahhaa, Pablo!”

 he grunted once, twice then you felt him filling you like a twinkie.

 “Ah, uh, uh, ah, uuuugh!”

 He held you so tightly against him ensuring that not even a drop escaped you and with every spurt he released inside of you, your body trembled. After several long moments, you both were a panting mess as you clung to one another.

 “Mmm, I love you, Y/N.”

 Your eyes met. “Yeah?”

 He looked so open, so vulnerable, so free for the taking.

 “I do. I love you so fucking much. Shit after today you just may be stuck with me for the rest of your life.”

 He kissed your collar then brought sloppy open-mouthed kisses to your breasts before wrapping his mouth around your nipple.

 “Mmm. What’s that supposed to mean?”

 He took his time licking and sucking your nipple reawakening that hungry, desperate need within you. Pulling his mouth from your flesh, he bit his bottom lip then brought one hand to your stomach.

 “I think I may have just planted Pablo Jr and Pabuela right here.”

 Your eyes bugged as you took in his words. Both of you snorted then laughed heartily.

 “Pablo!”

 You playfully slapped his chest.

 “Is that what your goal was? Let’s trap her so she’ll stay?”

 You playfully pinched and poked him until he rolled onto you pinning your arms above your head.

 “Trap? That’s such an ugly word. I prefer locked down, wifed up.”

 Both of you stopped moving as your eyes lingered. This was not the first time ether of you had heard the W word in reference to your relationship. It was however the first time Pablo had used the W word in reference to your relationship. This was also the first time he’d joked about having kids with you. He hovered over you, searching your eyes. You didn’t know what to say so you remained silent as your heart raced uncontrollably.

 “What do you think?”

 “Pabuela is a hideous name. There is no way my—our daughter will be named that.”

 You knew what you’d said, and you’d said it on purpose. His eyes remained on yours, but they sparked with intensity.

 “But Pablo Jr?”

 “PJ, sounds good,” you whispered.

 It was as if you were having two conversations in one. This lighthearted hypothetical one with the real and much deeper one hidden between the words, a serious one, one that was heavy with promise and intent. Pablo bit his bottom lip as he readjusted himself between your legs.

 “It does. Maybe Y/N Jr for—our daughter?”

 Hearing how heartbreakingly soft his voice got when he said “our” made your heart skipped a beat. It was a horrible idea, no way would you want to make your daughter a Jr, but hearing those words from him took your breath away. Shit you were so gone--hook, line and sinker for this man.

 You widened your legs then wrapped them around his waist. “There’s room for improvement but—I think we should be sure they are planted properly. Once may be all it takes but twice—seals the fate.”

 Pablo slowly smiled until he was full on just teeth and gums. With one thrust of his hips, he connected you again, stealing your breath all over again. The whole time he thrust into you his eyes never left yours. You were having a full-on conversation with your eyes and the beating of your hearts. The intensity of the exchange made you overly sensitive. You could feel everything ten times more. Every rub of his skin against yours felt like sparks from fireworks landed on your flesh. Every collision of his hip bone into yours was the rake of nails along your skin. Every tap of his thighs against the backs of yours sent a frisson of fire through you. It all felt so incredible, so completely perfect.

 When you felt his movements lag becoming even less controlled, you knew the intensity of the moment, of your lovemaking was also making him more sensitive as well. He was close and neither of you wanted to stop it or slow down. Pablo quickly thrusted into you racing for his release and you held on to him never taking your eyes off of his. Suddenly he stopped moving leaving your body in heightened suspension. Your first thought was he’d changed his mind and was pulling away from you both physically and emotionally. The thought made your heart clench and eyes prick with tears.

 “I love you, Y/N. Forever and always.”

 His brow crinkled and just like that he’d made the conscious decision and deliberate choice to seal your fate and lives together. A tear rolled out the corner of your eye as you joined him in the sweetest orgasm you’d ever had together. When you felt Pablo’s thick digit swipe at the tear you saw the question, worry and fear in his eyes. Smiling, you cupped his bearded jaw and erased any doubt in him with three words.

 “Forever and always.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[bnnywngs]

Oikawa remembers everything from beginning to end, as if it was a movie with the highest definition inside his own brain and he was the lonely viewer.

When they first met, they were both 15.

The first time Oikawa met Koushi, he didn't know who he was - it was his anonymous post on a very popular, at that time, online forum for volleyball players. Koushi used the forum to rant and vent, letting out his thoughts and feelings for anyone interested enough to read, like a diary or something.

Oikawa couldn't judge, he did the same.

It was one particularly emotional and depressive post that their first interaction happened. Koushi had lightly sprained his ankle after too much training and was out of volleyball practice for at least two weeks. Oikawa was a veteran in injuring himself for practicing too much, just ask Iwa-chan.

After that, they started to talk more, at first through comments in each other's posts, then through dms, and lastly, through their personal social media accounts. Oikawa struggled with his feelings for a while until he found the guts to ask for Koushi's phone number.

Their talks were long and deep, exchanging personal struggles and painful feelings they rather not show to anyone. Little by little, day by day, they got closer and Oikawa was going mad, his heart overflowing with affection.

"Can we meet?" was the message he sent after losing to Ushiwaka yet again - first time in high school.

"Sure!" Koushi's answer was quick, without showing doubts or apprehension.

The place they decided to meet for the first time was a popular boba place near the station, without saying where they lived or where they went for school.

Oikawa fell even more in love with Koushi when he saw the other boy up close. Those beautiful round eyes with a beauty mark, that silky hair and innocent expression, they made his heart skip one or two beats before going overdrive.

"Wow, you're so pretty!" Koushi said and his voice was as beautiful as his everything.

Blushing faintly, Oikawa scratched his nape "You're also reaaally pretty."

"Hehe." Koushi chuckled and Oikawa could swear he saw the boy sparkle.

And suddenly, their meetup ended up being a date of sorts, with both flirting in a subtle way with each other.

Though, they never touched the subject of volleyball and school.

By the fourth pseudo date, Oikawa found the courage to ask about it.

"Isn't it better to let fate decide if it wants us to know where we study?" Koushi said with a beam that pierced right through Oikawa's heart.

"But why~?" he whined "What if I want to pick you up during Valentine's Day with a heart shaped chocolate?"

Koushi, for the first time, blushed, his pale cheeks gaining a pinkish hue that made him look even more pretty. Unfairly pretty. Oikawa was so in love he wanted to scream or bash his head against the concrete floor.

"Oh." Koushi said, embarrassed "I mean... I want that. Definitely. But." he chewed on his lower lip, looking for words "Wouldn't it be funny if we went to interhigh and we look at the other side, to the school we're playing against, and saw each other?"

"...Maybe?" Oikawa wasn't convinced "But why wait?"

"Tooru, please~" Koushi huffed, exasperated "Imagine the surprise! The dread! The panic! The gay panic! It looks straight out off a shoujo manga, right?! Right?!"

Oikawa laughed "You're so weird, what the hell." then sighed "Fine. You win. Let's do your way."

"Not my way, fate's way!" Koushi looked so proud of himself.

Not resisting anymore, Oikawa bowed down and kissed those pretty lips.

They were both 15 when they met online, and 16 when they started dating.

A year later, they found themselves across a net.

[whumperer-86]

Many whump scenes from fateful love

[palossssssand]

Reconciliation

Old dome squadmates Trito and Kinoga get together at Trito’s place to catch up after years apart and a meeting by chance on the surface.

⚠️Warning for suggestive content below + implied chest trauma

After several weeks of chipping away at this, the comic is finally done! Very happy to have rendered a full 7 pages of oc stuff. Please give it a read!!

read the full 7 page comic on twitter! <-please do not click if you are a minor and view at your own discretion, this link contains explicit 18+ content. Thank you!

For the lore, includes stuff from splatoon Octo Expansion: Trito and Kinoga were a part of an octarian military squad living in the domes, Kinoga being their squad leader that many looked up to and admired. There were 6 of them who considered each other to be their closest friends. Upon hearing about the tests from Kamabo Co. and the allure of the Promised Land, Kinoga wished to seek it out in order to find a better life for their squadmates. A difficult decision, since it meant leaving them all behind, promising to come back and take them there.

Kinoga enters the metro trials and soon realizes that the Promised Land isn’t what they expected, their hope crumbling when they encounter one of their sanitized squadmates Agara, who followed suit to the metros soon after. Kinoga narrowly escapes, eventually making a break for the surface, carrying the shame of unwilling to return for their squadmates with them (it’s justified, of course, there might not be an easy way in, they might get caught again, Agara is gone)

Trito enters the Metro not too long after Kinoga does, wanting to catch up to them, and an accident that occurs in a test early on results in Trito’s near sanitization, giving him his scar. Terrified, and realizing what happens to his fellow octolings, Trito is unable to return to his squadmates, not wanting to break the news of their loved ones’ untimely fates. He hides away on the Metro until the events of OE happen and Agent 8 dismantles Kamabo, opening an opportunity to escape to the surface. Unwilling to face the possibilities of going back, Trito takes his chance to leave, starting a new life and feeling that it’s for the best if he doesn’t acknowledge it, though he missed his friends dearly.

Years later, Trito and Kinoga run into each other on the streets of Splatsville by chance, and the implications of them both being on the surface and alive hit them, having to carry the burden of leaving their loved ones behind and finding out the truth, knowing the other felt exactly the same, not knowing the fate of their squadmates and not wanting to think about the possibility of them being gone. They have a tearful reunion about it, and set up a meet later, to sit down and really talk, and get into a brief argument when the topic of returning to the domes comes up. Trito’s in disbelief that Kinoga never went back down to check on the rest of their squad, wanting them to have been a better person than him, who was too cowardly to do so. Eventually they do reconcile, and end up at Trito’s place to hook up, where the above comic takes place :]

[deathnguts]

I know the hunger games AU is owned by Jegulus or whatever because of crimson rivers but I’m gonna different and make it about Bartylus because no one can stop me so here’s a detailed summary/play by play of major events of the AU please give it a chance it’s eaten my brain

No trigger warnings under the cut besides yknow mentions of murder but it’s not graphic, there’s only a cut because it’s long as shit

(not inspired by crimson rivers really at all because I never read it) ((also implied trans regulus at the end because eveyrone that isn’t Sirius or Barty doesn’t know regulus is a man because transphobia and closets and stuff and you can pry trans regulus out of my cold dead hands))

Ok so I imagine that the pure blooded families would be from career districts, like district one (luxury goods) I imagine. And Regulus, per the rules of the game, has never been allowed to participate because Sirius already competed and won when he was sixteen and regulus was eleven. This leads to regulus becoming disillusioned to the glory of the games early on since his beloved brother did come home with the honor but he was completely changed and traumatized and claimed he only came home with his life. Regulus sees the games for the horrific blood bath they are as he grows older due to taking on being his brother’s caretaker since no one else would and Sirius completely let himself go in the throes of depression, making regulus see what the games do to even their winners first hand.

Barty, on the other hand, does not see the games for what they are and he wants nothing more than to go and to win. He’s always believed in the ideology that winning the hunger games is the ultimate honor and playing them is the ultimate rush. I imagine, in the context of this universe, his father would probably be influential enough to be involved in the inner workings of the games. And unlike any other parent involved in the planning of the games, he doesn’t rig it so his son won’t be a participant, he rigs it so he will. Knowing this, every moment that isn’t spent with regulus at Sirius’ winners home or somewhere more comfortable like in town or something, Barty is training for when he’s selected for the games (since the careers have it rigged and all.)

Regulus tries to live in denial about the fact Barty will certainly go and may not come back or maybe come back like Sirius did up until the reaping day that changes everything. Him and Barty are sixteen, just like Sirius was, when they both hear his full name get called. Barty is beaming with pride as he’s pushed up the steps and regulus can barely contain a sob. (He only does because he knows it would be out of place for a career district civilian like himself to mourn such a thing, and he doesn’t want his family thinking he’s a rebel or something.)

Regulus rushes to see Barty before he’s taken away immediately. He’s crying in Barty’s arms and holding him like there’s no tomorrow because there truly might not be. Barty is less brash and loud with his pride obviously, the love of his life is crying in his arms, but he’s not swayed enough to truly be nervous. He simply holds regulus tight and tips his chin up, smiles and tells him he shouldn’t worry because if he’s not just coming home for honor, he’s coming home to marry regulus. They’ll be together forever when Barty gets back, it’ll all be ok. Regulus tries to believe that and gives Barty his favorite of his rings off his finger as Barty’s token from home. Barty puts it on the chain he always wears as a necklace since he knows he’ll be using his hands a lot in the arena.

Once Barty’s on the quick train ride to the capitol (since district one is so close) his smile fades to an even determination and he holds the ring in his clenched fist to his lips the whole way. The other careers will poke fun at it later, seeing as how there’s no way a simple silver ring on an even simpler chain can be weaponized, but what they think doesn’t matter because Barty’s going to kill them.

Barty optimizes on his wild card persona for his training, fashion statements, and marketing himself since he knows the crowd loves a winner who gets their hands dirty. And during his interview, he speaks of how he’s going home to the love of his life and shows off his ring to get real about his near proposal to get the crowd to love him even more. Everyone loves a romance. Regulus watches from home, alone since Sirius would rather die than watch anything to do with the games. He’s shaking from his fetal position on the ground and he can only pray Barty will be right in the end.

Before anyone really knows it, the games begin. Barty gets exactly what he wanted from the blood bath (sadistic violence and securing of the cornucopia. He even takes out his ‘partner’ from district one while the other careers are busy. Because he only has one partner from district one, and he’s not in the arena.) and regulus watches with his heart beating out of his chest.

The games go on swimmingly at first. Regulus is itching to help, to send any gift Barty may need at a moments notice, but Barty truly doesn’t need anything from him since he’s monopolized all the materials. He feel useless and he’s so terrified every second of the day he curses the editors of the broadcast every time his love isn’t on the screen because what’s happening when they pan to anyone else?! Barty’s doing mostly fine for himself since the lower districts are keeping to themselves and the other careers aren’t down to the wire enough to start back stabbing yet. Until they are.

Barty sees it as luck that he’s the youngest career here, halfway naive to the extent of the rigging the games have in favor of his idealization of them. The others single him out in their heads immediately due to his age and his whole ‘lover boy’ show at the interviews. They all agreed without having to discuss that he’s the first to go the second it’s convenient.

The next week or so is spent with the careers staking out the arena and then doing organized hunts for other tributes. They all go off well, the careers always win though not without any fighting back obviously. They lose the girl from four and the guy from three, girl from three gets injured but not enough to sit out and ugh Barty’s annoyed that he has to care about any of them. The guy from two is always sending him off on his own, claiming it’s because Barty’s a ‘crazy fucker’ and it’s like sending a rabid dog to some sheep and he’s certain Barty will come back panting like one with the blood of his win on him (secretly hoping he fails and doesn’t come back at all soon.) But he does, every single time. Barty thinks it’s because he was judged right, everyone else slowly gets more wary of him when they realize he’s not the easy pickings they imagined and he may actually be a problem down the road.

With only a few stragglers from lower districts left, the other careers decide to put him down before they run out of numbers. They go for him when they think he’s asleep, but he’s not an idiot and he knows they have it out for him and he wouldn’t dare to trust them enough to sleep around them. He actually hasn’t slept in days because of it. (Regulus hasn’t either, desperately afraid that he’ll miss even a single second of what’s happening to Barty.) He’s loopy, deranged from all the sadistic heavy lifting he’s been doing. He feels like a rabid dog now more than ever as he’s literally clawing and biting his former teammates when they manage to disarm him after he fatally wounds the girl from two and she fades away without him even looking twice. He takes out the injured girl from four, no was it two? No he just killed girl from two, it had to be… one? Yeah, one. She’s easy pickings and guy from… four, seems mad about it. It’s him and two guys, four and two, and they seem pissed. It’s funny, Barty can’t stop laughing. They really think they can beat him. Hilarious.

Regulus watches in horror and Sirius jolts from his sleep four rooms down when he hears his brother scream because in Barty’s insomnia and shock induced delusions, he gets snuck up on from a boy from five that’d been with them, one Barty hadn’t even noticed. He’s stabbed literally in the back, low and a few inches from his spine with the knife they’d taken away from him earlier.

Barty freezes, but not for long before he feels the knife twist and get pulled out. He practically howls at the pain when he whips around and kicks the guy down. God damn ghost, didn’t he kill him already? He takes his knife back and some other guys come in for the kill but they’re stupid because they’re getting close to Barty and he has his knife back. Barty doesn’t clearly remember what happened next, just that three bodies fell, he got cut again in his thigh and in both his arms, and then he passed out in the pool of blood he’d created.

Drones come ti pick up three bodies, Barty isn’t one of them. He wakes up to the movement around him and he feels like hell. He’s bleeding out, fuck why hadn’t he wrapped himself up before laying down? He did lay down, right? There’s an another drone that comes in and it’s medical supplies. A lot of them. Surely from a very concerned and very wealthy donor. He uses them graciously and waits out a day, maybe two, or was it three actually? for the hurt to subside enough to hunt again. It doesn’t.

He’s drifting in and out of consciousness and he’s not even fully functioning when he’s awake. He keeps getting drones with more medical supplies and he realizes with barely half a mind they’re coming from regulus. He can barely stay awake long enough to use them and keep himself alive with the little control he has and he realizes in this lethargic time that regulus was right. He feels awful, on so many levels. What he had to do, what he did for fun, what got him here, wasn’t worth it. He wants to go home. He hopes his mind will stop being foggy and loud when he gets home.

There someone standing by him, they don’t even have a weapon. They’re looking at him with fear in their eyes, but they’re stepping closer. They’re going to kill him. Barty spits, they’re going to try. His mind is loud and his blood is louder when he’s in another scuffle with whatever stupid fucking lower district tribute the old group missed while policing the arena. Theyre rolling on the ground for any hint of an upper hand. But the tribute’s weak, clearly malnourished and too scared to be calculated because Barty gets on top easy. He has his hands around their neck for just a moment before their long ass nails are digging into his fingers- no, they’re gloves, with razors at the tips. Fuck. He involuntarily pulls back with a hiss and they’re on top of him again. He’s not going out like this.

He kicks them on their back with his good leg and they gasp from the air knocking out of them on impact. He doesn’t have time to get their gloves off before they get their breath back, but he does have time to yank his necklace over his head and over theirs. They struggle and he flips them over to get his thighs on their upper arms to stop their death hands. Their razor fingers are digging into every inch of him they can and he barely feels the pain. Their movements slow and their eyes tear up as silver wrings out their last breath. Barty’s declared the winner. Was that really the last tribute?

It must have been, because he’s hauled out of the arena and into the capitol. Or at least, tried to, because he distantly remembers the terror and adrenaline in him not subsiding soon enough for him to trust the capital people come to retrieve him and he has to be put to sleep because he lunges at one of them. He wakes up and they’ve healed him completely with their capital tech and he wants to go home. There’s the after game interview he can’t hear over the buzzing in his ears and he tells them he wants to go home. He sees his father shortly after since he oversees things like the interviews and Barty tells him he wants to go home.

When he finally does, he could cry from just the sight of his regulus waiting for him right when the train doors open. And he does when he finally has him in his arms again. The two sob together on the ground and they hold each other like lifelines. It takes hours for them to calm down enough to even walk to the car to go home, and they do so pressed close with their hands intertwined. They huddle together in the car, and then they huddle together in bed the second their home. Regulus tells Barty he was right, Barty tells regulus he was right.

They’re both beyond shaken and traumatized from the games, Barty on behalf of eveyrthing he did and what was done to him and regulus because he had to watch. But they’re together now, and there’s never a moment in the future the public will ever them not. They’re shaken and attached at the hip at all times, agoraphobic and terrified of other people in case theyre a threat.

But the capital waits for none and they want a wedding. There was a buzz about it ever since Barty was in the top two for four days. And then when the crowd saw the psycho lover boy choking the last tribute in his way with his ‘wedding’ ring? Oh, now they can’t be stopped. The pair are rushed to the capital again and they cling to each other for dear life. Their wedding is completely planned already when they arrive, surely by game orchestrators and excited producers like their marriage is just an after party for the games. The overly eager crowd of make up artists and designers try to rush them apart for dressing and Barty nearly bites them, so they forgo the tradition of making the groom wait to see the bride in ‘her’ gown.

The crowd isn’t too upset because the display is a testaments to the capital’s newest favorite couples’ unconditional, inseparable love that defied every odd. And that’s the theme of the night. Hundreds of guests neither of the lovers know swarming them with praises and questions about how sad it was to watch their lover almost die and how sweet it was he didn’t and are they going to have children soon and wow double immunity for the baby when it does come with the Black and Crouch winners as uncle and father and-

It takes a near breaking point, luck, and a distraction from Sirius (who’s been itching to fuck with the crowd all night after being forced to be here) for the couple to get away for just a moment to breathe. It’s all so jarring, Barty was dying just two days ago and he got regulus back only a little after that and it’s all so much, too much and it’s so loud. But they’re married now, which he wanted; he’s alive, which he wanted; he’s home in regulus’ presence, which he desperately wanted.

Regulus looks beautiful in the sparkling white dress Barty’s games designer made for him, Barty apologizes that he has to be seen by so many people in it. Regulus says it was inevitable, Barty says it’s still not right. Regulus asks what is. Barty doesn’t answer for a moment. They sigh and hug each other close like they’d been doing non stop every chance they could for the past twenty eight hours. Barty murmurs that in everything that’s happened, in everything he’s done, the only thing that’s remained right since the start is regulus, his love for him more specifically. Regulus snorts a little and teases that he sounds like he’s going to propose. Barty doesnt respond for a moment. Then he’s pulling away from the embrace and regulus almost jumps but Barty doesn’t go far when he gets on one knee and pulls his token necklace from under his suit and over his head and smiles up at Regulus’s dumbfounded face.

Regulus Black, love of my life, my only light in the dark, would you do me the honor-

Yes.

He’s crying, they’re both crying. But it’s better. Everything’s better. Barty’s home, he made it home. They’ll be safe and sound at home.

[stayteezdreams]

Hi hi! Congrats on 1K!!! You deserve it! 🫰🏻 for the sleepover event, could I get three fate ships?

Ateez - box 2, card 13, drabble 13

Stray Kids - box 4, card 29

Seventeen - box 3, card 17

Again, congrats on 1K followers!

((Milestone Event))

Heyyy!~ Thanks for sending one in, I hope you are happy with the ships you got! Sorry it took a minute!

Ateez:

And your Fate Ship is.....

Yunho!~

Prompt #13: Accidental Confession

Oops

TW: Alcohol/mentions of drinking. Tipsy/Drunk Yunho.

Yunho didn't mean to drink so much, but the thought of you going out on a date with someone that wasn't him rubbed him the wrong way.

He knew he had no right to be upset or jealous, he hadn't told you how he felt. But he still felt miserable thinking of you with someone else.

And not only was he having to deal with the constant thought of what you were doing on your date, but now he had to deal with the teasing from the others.

Every one of them came in and asked why Yunho seemed so miserable, and every time. he had to explain. And it was always followed by their jokes and teasing.

So caught up in his misery and annoyance at the others, he had zoned out from their voices as he stared into the void of his drinking glass.

So distracted, he hadn't even heard you enter the apartment. Hadn't processed your voice as you greeted the others. Hadn't heard you call his name.

You frowned as you looked him over, seeing from his glazed eyes that he was tipsy, if not drunk.

Sitting down beside him you tapped his shoulder. "What's got you so down?"

Hearing the question but not paying attention to who asked it, Yunho groaned as he threw his head back, tired of answering the same question again and again.

"I'm wallowing in my self-pity as Y/n goes on a date with someone else, what about it?" As he turned his head to glare at the questioner, he froze as his eyes met your confused gaze.

Straightening his head, he glanced at the others in the room who all stared at him with shocked faces as they repressed their shocked laughter.

"You're- what?"

Your heart was beating hard in your chest as you looked around at the others and saw their reactions to Yunho's slip up. Looking back at Yunho he had a mortified look on his face as he remained frozen.

"Oops" Wooyoung mumbled while repressing a laugh as he and and the others backed away, leaving the room.

Yunho finally spoke, his voice soft, restrained. "I didn't realize you were here."

"Is what you said true? You were 'wallowing' because I went on a date?"

Yunho swallowed, wanting to make up an excuse, say it's not what it sounded like. But instead, he gave in a nodded his head.

"You don't want me to go on dates with someone else? As in, you don't want me to go on dates with guys that aren't...you?" Your heart was only beating heavier and heavier with each moment.

He nodded again without saying anything. You stared at him for a second before smacking his shoulder. "Why didn't you tell me?! Do you know how many shitty dates I've gone on that I could have avoided!"

He blinked a few times, "Huh?"

You groaned as you leaned back against the couch. Yunho continued to stare at you, slowly processing the meaning of your words. Sitting up, he set his drink aside, suddenly a lot more sober.

"So if I had asked you not to go on those dates..."

"I wouldn't go."

"And if I asked you on a date?"

"I would say yes."

A grin slowly spread across his face, "Really?"

You smiled in return before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Yes. But do me a favor, and ask me when you're sober."

xx

Stray Kids:

And your Ship is....

Bang Chan!~

Seventeen:

And your final Fate Ship is...

Jeonghan!

xx

[novankenn]

They're here....

Jaune Arc the lovable goof of JNPR has only told his team and friends that he had seven sisters... he's never told any of them about the two closets to him... his twin sisters Jean and Joan...

The last born of the three... Jaune had been a sickly child, weak and often bed ridden. As he grew he became more robust in health and vitality. But the damage had been done. His family, but more importantly his twin sisters doted on him, and chose that Jaune wasn't meant to fight... they would fight in his stead.

Jaune was tired of being the "damsel in distress" so he ran... breaking his sister's hearts in the process. With the broadcast of the first round of the Vytal Tournament...

They found him... They want him home...

--== Chapters ==--

A Warning Too Late

Baby Brother! We FOUND you!

No Escape

Almost Introductions

Okay… that could have gone better

Objectives become known

Going downhill fast

from Bad to Worse

Divine Intervention

This is not Good

It makes no sense

Um… hello? I’m still here.

Questions!

More Questions…

One More Round (pt 1)

One More Round (pt 2)

One More Round (pt 3)

Background Info (pt 1)

[gwaedhannen]

Dispossessed

They don’t drift apart so much as never coagulate again.

Celegorm vanishes into the deep woods as hastily as he can manage, before the shock of his Return (“Him first? Of all of them!?”) fully ebbs; if the hounds of Oromë howl in strange voices, they have always been a little wild.

Caranthir builds a house on a quiet hillside, and counts naught but the stitches in his tapestries; he has not ceased to weave since with the first thread he closed his harsh mouth for ever.

Curufin lifts a hammer once—and sees only shattered fingers upon the anvil.

Maedhros lies at the feet of Mercy Undeserved until he remembers how to cry again, then dons a dark veil of his own, padding through the halls of Fui to lend what tears he may, unnumbered as they are.

Ambarussa are never seen again—not directly; a lick of flame, trembling leaves, a fox’s scream; at the edge of perception, copper entwines with fate, glimmering beyond reach.

Maglor returns with pride tempered but unquenched, with a tongue tired of laments, with many deeds of selfless kindness ready for praise, with expectations—and finds ashes, and a land long moved on.

Edit: now on AO3 with some slight changes: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53245837