#hr wells is a cutie

[bananielle]

vivi…. thoughts are being thunk

oh god. ihan… ( ;´ - `;) i’m such a sucker for tying pretty boys up <3 leehan would love to be restrained i think. he’d watch you with sparkling eyes and that exact smirk as you tied his arms tight to his body and went in to blindfold him. he just thinks you’re so hot when you’re in the lead and basically manhandling him. i think he’d be a bit giggly as you’re touching him too :p but he’d be so quick to crumble and turn into a moaning mess, especially if you kissed his eyelids through the blindfold

[osamucide]

⊹ THE FIRST TASTE

LET IT BEGIN, HEAVEN CANNOT WAIT FOREVER . . . ft. Osamu Dazai

wc: ~3.6k

cw: NSFW CONTENT—MDNI (I BLOCK AGELESS+BLANK BLOGS), ada+masc!reader, reader has a tongue piercing, pet names (pretty boy and cutie for u), romantic and sexual tension, established flirtationship->new relationship?, a lil alcohol, making out, oral fixation/finger sucking, oral sex (Dazai receiving), cum eating (Dazai lol), patheticzai makes a spectacle of your shyness even though he can't just ask for what he wants good thing u have telepathy with him /j

reid: trade w my sweet friend @rossithepixie / @selfindulgentpixies who masterminded some beautiful osareid art for me <3 (if u havent seen it yet dw i will be reblogging it a million more times but also check out rossi's work neow cause he's super talented). thank you for trusting me with this rossi—it was such a blast to do a little lovesick dazai desperately chasing ur cute lil self into a corner (i listened to fiona apple's song with the same title a lot while i wrote this—is it obvious? lol). i hope u enjoy so much <3

It’s a cute little habit of yours. Unconscious, he knows, but that makes it no less cute. No less dangerous. 

Everyone notices you do it—Atsushi pointed out the jewelry poking from your mouth with awe when he first caught you fidgeting with it (“People can have piercings there? That’s so cool”)—but Osamu highly doubts anyone finds it nearly as charming, as endearing as he himself does. After all, he’s the one consistently wheeling over next to you on his chair to fold his arms under his chin on your desk and admire you unashamedly while you tie a loose end around a sentence in whatever report you’re writing before even thinking about turning your attention to him. 

So diligent. 

That’s another cute thing about you. You've been a star worker, really, since you started. In the months since you got hired, your reports have been nothing but thorough and on time; even your first steps into fieldwork as a detective have been spotless, practiced, as if you already know this work like the back of your hand. You’re personable yet serious, easygoing and dedicated all at the same time, continually proving your worth as a voice of reason and contribution around the meeting table as well as a supportive, kind, all-around more than pleasant coworker on and off of crime scenes. Not to mention, your ability’s nothing to scoff at.

You’re a true asset to the Armed Detective Agency. 

Which is why Kunikida’s glaring Osamu down again, threatening him silently with an HR department that unfortunately doesn’t exist—because, yes, you are for all intents and purposes perfect for this workplace and the blond man will simply not have you driven off by his partner’s insufferable tendencies. 

Even Kunikida’s wrath, however, is scarcely known to deter Osamu Dazai, and that is why, when he notices you doing it again—toying with the metal bar through your tongue in an absentminded display of your oh-so-coveted concentration on and application to your task, he scoots himself right over, rowing on his heels, brushing admonishing stares like he might dust off his shoulder and settling next to you, chin in his palm, feet knocking into yours beneath your desk. 

As expected, you don’t turn to him immediately. All the better. Gives him a few seconds more to admire you, your parted lips, the glint of the metal and your pretty teeth against the natural light streaming into the office on this lovely day, made all the lovelier by the vision of your adorable expression.

But when you do, it’s melt-worthy. 

“Hi, Osamu,” you mumble, turning your eyes to him and tucking your tongue back in to offer him that sweet but aware, workplace-appropriate smile that makes him grin even further. You’d have to be naive not to know he wants to strip you of that professionalism, but you make sure to give him time of day in only the most graceful way when you’re both at the office; for as charming as he is, and for as much as you must shyly admit you find him endearing just the same, you don’t turn a blind eye to his cunning nature. 

And like so many things, it’s a bit of a game that he enjoys—seeing what he can do to crack that competence of yours. 

But today he’s restless, so he punches low from the jump. 

“Hi, pretty boy,” he purrs, gaze searing into you. Signature. 

And just like he hopes, your brow raises and you look away, pursing your lips to mask your reaction to his antics. He usually toys with you a little longer before he brandishes the pet name he knows all too well gets your cheeks glowing pink in an instant—and that’s exactly what they do. Your coyness can’t hide that. 

“Eager today, are we?” you fill the silence with the lighthearted accusation, busying yourself on your keyboard so as to fight off the squirming you’re sensing will be futile to escape this afternoon.

“Yup.” When he pops the p, he nudges your ankle with his own. 

But in your busying, the tip of your tongue flicks out again, and Osamu’s seemingly-aimless display of fluster-inducing attention surges toward its goal, which he’s been contemplating for a few days now, actually: getting you out of this stuffy office (or the all-too public nearby bar you’ve started frequenting with him after hours, strictly as friends it seems—if friends tangle their fingers together after a few cocktails and then don’t make mention of it the next day, anyway) and into his dorm, which he actually tidied up because he calculated with most near-certainty there couldn’t possibly exist a world in which you’d turn down such an invitation. So he hopes, anyway. For as player as he acts, the way you make him feel sows seeds of doubt in him and his usual methods of seduction. You know full well how sincerely captivated he is by you… right? You must. You have to. 

“You know,” he continues, “I was wondering…” 

Mincing his words is never part of his plans. Unless, of course, it’ll draw a desired outcome closer than being direct will. But now, Osamu finds himself almost hesitating, with no prior inclination to do so; he’s wondering, not thinking, like he seems to do so much when you’re near him, and he doesn't know if you fully realize it, but you might have more control over… whatever this is between you than he does.

You tilt your head, still turned to your screen, as if it begins to occur to you. 

“...Drinks at my place?” he spits out—pointedly dropping the “double suicide?” intonation so it’s clear he’s serious—before he can give any more indication that he’s slipping.

When you look to him again, Osamu’s filled the space of his doubt with that low-lidded grin once more.

“Tonight?” 

“Tonight? Oh—” You clear your throat in a way that sounds oddly affirmative, as if you’re trying to keep it from bubbling out too soon. You’re so assured in everything else you do around here, so Osamu, ever the contrarian, regains his balance on the premise of your shyness. When you go to confirm, you’ve all but lost your teasing lilt. The flush on your face doesn’t miss him. “Yeah, that’d be nice, Osamu.” 

Nice. If he didn’t have an image to upkeep, he’d leap up and fistpump the air like a cartoon character. Perhaps, if he were more in tune with his hand-to-god emotions, he’d crumble to the floor in a ball wondering what the hell he’s getting himself into.

He doesn’t do this. He doesn’t clean his dorm, much less invite romantic prospects over to it. You’re new territory in the way he feels freshly determined not to mess up, so he keeps himself composed behind that smile. “When are you out of here?” 

“I can be out of here whenever you’re out of here,” you mumble, your lips pressed into a smirk you won’t let unfurl fully. He wishes you would. He’ll get you to. If he had it his way, he’d whisk you out of here now, clock be damned, and pop open that red dessert wine he picked up specifically for the event in which you would land on his uncomfortable little couch with your tongue lingering in, hopefully, closer proximity to his own. He’s seen you tipsy; you don’t suppress that air of sheepish enthrallment so much when you are, and he’s impatient for it. He needs more of you.

But it’s three in the afternoon, and Kunikida’s abruptly dragging Osamu by the collar of his shirt like a puppy on a leash to roll him back over to his own damn desk, muttering something about how if he had any decency he’d leave you the hell alone and if he wasn’t going to contribute anything of worth to the Agency’s productivity yield, the least he could do was not disturb those who are. 

This makes you chuckle fully as you shake your head. Osamu eats it up—and he doesn’t hide it, eyeing you with something most akin to yearning in his gaze. You have such an effortless knack for putting hearts in his eyes in a way he’s not used to. 

The rest of his shift dawdles by; as a way to pass the time, Osamu volunteers himself to run out and pick up the Thai takeout for those who will be clocking out later than he hopes he will. Kunikida so graciously (read: reluctantly and irritatedly) let him order on his card, so he claimed it as repayment; really, he needed to get out of his desk chair. 

He feels insane watching you play with that piercing of yours, his stack of unfinished reports (or, pre-construction paper planes) serving as no distraction. 

He delivers your spring rolls to you with a wink. He eats his pad thai and fools around on his desktop. He watches the sun streak down the window.

He actually considers getting some work done. It’s nearly torture.

He gets up to leave the second the clock strikes eight. If he was bad at focusing on work before, you’ve ruined him. 

The implication’s all too clear when you’re stepping into the evening air behind him. You don’t mind—it’s evident in your reserved but knowing smile, the one he so terribly wants to unravel. 

His place is threadbare, but cozy. You curl yourself up on one of the two couch cushions while Osamu sets two empty glasses and a bottle on the low table before you—he’s eager, too, for the wine; he’s aching to dispel both your timidity and his anxiety that it feeds. Maybe it’s just that he can’t seem to handle himself positively spiraling over you while you remain enchantingly reticent, quiet in the desire he knows flows between you both. Usually, he’s the one with all the self-control. Tonight he’s counting on you missing the tremble in his fingers as he pours. 

“Kunikida’s such a hardass, isn’t he?” he muses while he tucks a glass into your hand and draws himself up onto the couch, facing you, leaving a respectful but still considerably involved distance between you. Your knee almost touches his. “Berating me for something as little as asking such a cutie to come over for drinks. It’d be more criminal not to, I think.” 

You chuckle at his dramatics, taking a sip. It’s sweet, red. You remind him, “We are coworkers, Osamu.” 

He cocks his head, drinking deeper than you do, with a thoughtful look on his gorgeous face. He hums and reminds you, “We’re not just coworkers.” 

Your chuckle becomes a giggle—one less dubious than the short, amused headshakes you save for the office—and with your next question, he knows he’s pulling you in. You’ve been dancing around each other long enough; he’s warm, trying not to overflow when you speak—you finally sound ready to acknowledge what’s been turning him into a mess for you when you hum and press skittishly. If he had a tail, it’d be wagging. 

“What else are we then, hm?” 

Your bashfulness reads so seamlessly as effortless wooing—he wonders if you’re so purely humble, or actually a mastermind of coquetry. The way you keep yourself veiled, thinly enough to keep him pining for more of you but staunchly too so that he constantly doubts whether the cat or the mouse has the upper hand, turns him to mush—absolute pathetic mush—and he answers a question with a question. You’ve got him going against all sorts of personal philosophy. 

“What else do you wanna be?” 

The answer gets lost between shifting hands, closing space, conversation and jokes that relax further and further as you both stabilize into one another over the following hour or so. A couple more glasses of wine are poured, drank, tasted—at some point in the blackening night you end up astride his lap in the dim lamplight with your glass in triumphant hand, tucking his hair behind his ear while he cups your face, simpers out another remark that makes you blush and wave him away; Osamu looks at you with something you can only construe through your buzz as pure want. Coming down from laughter that screws your eyes shut—he’s never short on humor, which is one of the things you think you love—love? about him, you say it aloud, tell him you do in fact love that about him and if he was all pure want a moment before, now he’s pure shock. 

But he plays it off in his way; you watch the intricate way he takes no more than a half-second to collect himself, just tipsy enough to get snagged on the words love that about you that the half-second seems a feature-length film to you—one you would watch over, over, over again. 

Osamu slides four fingers on one side of your jaw, thumb on the other—holding your chin gently but firmly in place so he can bore like fire into you.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he asks, half sincere, half flirtatious. Your gaze scatters momentarily beneath his; you take a second, copy his recovery.  

You hesitate before you say, “I think I have some idea,” fully sincere, fully flirtatious. When you pinch your bottom lip between your teeth—not an unconscious habit but an intentional move in this game—he thinks this is what middle school boys must feel like the first time they get close to their crush. It sickens him so sweetly, like he’s swallowed a lump of sugar. He wants more. 

Your breath coils around his between your noses, between your mouths. The wine in your glass sloshes and settles.  

“Can I tell you what drives me crazy?” he breathes. 

You nod like you’ve been waiting lifetimes to know. 

He answers not with words but a touch to your lip—a stroke back and forth that leaves you parting for him. He leaves feather-light fingerprints on the sharp of your front teeth, pushing, slowly, forward until the hot muscle in your mouth cradles his thumb and he’s touching that devil-sent piercing of yours, the ball all at once cool and warm as it twirls to evade him.

“This,” he whispers, chasing the metal back and forth. “This drives me crazy.” 

You don’t respond with anything but suction, a soft bob of your head like you understand, and a hmm.

Osamu thinks he might implode beneath you. 

His attention has hardly ever felt so streamlined as when you search his face, circle his thumb, wet it for him to retract and drag down your chin while you draw your brow together like you miss it—his eyes are all yours, wide and waiting and holding the answers to all the questions drifting around, surrounding both of you. 

The kiss is searing as he pulls you into him—or, hardly has to, rather, as your eyes flutter shut and you lean to meet him, five of your fingers matching his grip but on his shoulder while you suffocate that mingled breath so it becomes mingled spit, mingled tongues. He worms himself past your lips, into you—he almost moans when the tip of his own tongue brushes across the jewelry sitting on the pad of your tongue like a pearl in an oyster. He’s finally cracking you open. It makes him smile wickedly into you. 

Your arms locking around his neck leave him rolling into you hotly, asking for you with anything but words which escape him again now—so uncharacteristic, but he’s lucky you’re both too entangled to notice, for words aren’t necessary right now; he’s ushering your wine glass out of your hand, setting his, too, onto the table so you can wind your fingers in his hair and tug, prompting the sweetest gasps that you echo back into him while he guides your hips across him. The fervor either of you holds is indistinguishable from the other; you grind, he grips you, the harder he grips you the harder you grind and vice versa until he’s biting down the column of your neck toward absolution. 

He mutters your name through an umph; you pick his lips back up the second he goes for air, and he goes for your tongue. When you pull back to observe him, mirroring you in kiss-puffiness and staccato breath, he’s wild between your eyes and your lips. 

“That’s all for you,” he tells you when he grabs your wrist and guides you to palm his cock before you hit him with another question for the ages—one that will not receive a verbal answer but a noise from his throat he swears he’s never heard himself make before.

“Wanna feel it?” 

God, has he ever wanted anything more in his life? The erection he’s built up just from kissing you, moving you against him, is all the evidence either of you need. 

Regardless, Osamu’s nodding fervently, chocolate locks swaying. 

So, you take your turn kissing down him until you’re pooled at his feet, between his knees, with devoted fingers undoing the button on his pants; the task at hand, so sweetly and circularly, has your tongue poking out in concentration as you work his waistband down. Osamu twitches at the sight—he doesn’t mean to mutter you’re so fucking adorable but he does, he does. It’s your turn to grin wickedly as you take his cock out, your turn to tease with your thumb on his drooling tip, your turn to explore with your mouth. 

You’ve had the reins all this time, really—from the first day you sat at your desk, making that attentive face. He must be the luckiest sucker in the world to have ended up here, with your shining eyes watching him fall apart as your honeyed lips guide him toward sweet devastation. 

The first stripe you lick up his underside sends Osamu’s head flying back, jaw falling slack on the end of a breathy “fuck!”

And he feels every stride of your tongue piercing when you wrap your lips around his tip and swirl. 

The sounds you draw from Osamu’s open mouth are like song; diligent in this task as you are every other one, it’s hardly a minute before he’s tangling his fingers in your hair, crooning your name between broken praises that come naturally as you hold him, lick him, look up at him with eyes that he thinks could turn him to stone—if only you had been evil, that is, but realistically, you can’t be anything other than an angel. 

“Pretty boy, you—” 

At that name, you groan. Take him further. 

And through how good it feels, he laughs. 

“Oh, you like that? Huh?” He could pull you off him if he wanted a response, but you’re too heavenly to interrupt—anyway, he already knows how you feel about pretty boy. 

You hum around him—another sensation that sends him reeling with oh, god on his lips. 

“That’s it… Feels s’good on me. Unh—yeah, like that…” 

Indirectivity and grandeur has always been something Osamu considers himself a professional in—everything you do throws him for a loop and the way you bob up and down does him no favors. He whines in the way he does when he’s already going to finish all too quickly, but the fact that it’s you bringing him to his end—his cute coworker he’s been pining after since your first day on the job, the one that’s inspired such foreign feelings of wonder in his long-gone-cold heart—has him unreservedly bucking his hips into your mouth as you rake your nails down his thighs, ardent in this undertaking, bobbing frantically like all you’ve ever wanted was to have him noisy and messy underneath you like this. 

“‘m gonna—oh, fuck!” 

But he doesn’t have to tell you; you feel him, spasming on your tongue against the otherworldly friction your jewelry provides—his true downfall, that thing, and the image of you formed around it—you pursue his climax like a predator pursuing prey, pulling away to give him that false sense of security as you rise to your feet, pounce back over him and kiss him so intensely while you handle him, jerk him to orgasm between your bodies; Osamu’s hoarse, aching as he humps the hole you make with your fist and chants yes, yes, yes, please! into your mouth, tasting metal, never wanting it to leave.

He settles into soft panting as you draw your fingers up; he’s beginning to speak— “You’re so—” but you’re cutting him off so he can suck your fingers, taste himself and the way you’ve shattered him so beautifully. And he does, he laps like a man possessed, obsessed with the flavor of himself if only it’s leaving your skin, before you let him continue. “You’re incredible. You and that piercing.” 

You huff out a laugh, but it’s true. He’s convinced you’re a dream in every sense of the word—how did he get so lucky, no—how did the earth get so lucky to have you dropped upon it, right here in Yokohama, doing such scandalous things with that godly mouth of yours? 

“I try,” you quip with a half-shrug, smiling softly, kissing him just so. 

“Do you, now?” Osamu Dazai, who so often loses those good things before he can really grasp them, takes note of another new sensation—unwavering resolve, in the amorous sense—and concludes that if he can help it, this dream will not slip away so quickly. He can’t possibly send you back up to heaven.

He grabs your hips, pulls you onto him. 

Everything you are—all hard working, handsome face, sweet disposition, and tongue ring—he’s wanted it for so long; it would be nonsensical, a tragedy, to let the same evening air you stumbled in on steal you away again.

This is a dilemma he doesn’t have a solution to; not immediately. 

But he speaks anyway, smirking and toying with the button on your pants, overwhelming your frame to put your back to the cushions—turn you into a mess for him.

“Your turn, pretty boy.” 

[bloatedandalone04]

➪the one where ethan makes you playlist of songs that remind him of you. (requested)

Warnings: fluff, ethan being a cutie and having the biggest crush on you, non-ghostface ethan, more fluff

Word Count: 1.8k | Ethan Masterlist

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine <3

Ethan couldn’t remember the last time he felt like this.

Well, he could as he was still young and it had only been a few years since he had been in middle school. Still, the small crushes he had back then were nothing compared to what he felt now. 

His brain felt fuzzy, his heart sped up whenever those eyes met his own, he would break out into a sweat when he felt the brush of skin on skin. He had never had it this bad before.

And you were to blame.

Your sweet smile, your kind eyes and your bright and carefree personality. How could he not instantly be drawn to you?

Ethan was developing a deep crush on you, and at a rapid pace. 

He sat in his room, his laptop playing some rock band from its place on his desk while he was across the room on his bed. His thumb was beginning to hurt from his countless hours of scrolling through Spotify, subconsciously adding random songs to a playlist - every song in which reminded him of you. 

Cloud 9 - Beach Bunny.

Crimson and Clover - Joan Jett & the Blackhearts.

Compass - The Neighbourhood. 

Someone to You - BANNERS.

The list just goes on and he only decided to stop when he saw how long it had gotten, the top of the playlist reading ‘67 songs, 4 hr 21 min’.

God, he felt like a kid again. 

His last crush was brutal. Ethan never found the courage to ask the cute girl in his homeroom out, making that story end before it ever even began. He never even spoke to her. 

Thankfully, that wasn’t the case with you. 

Not entirely, anyway. 

He talked to you almost everyday, and that in itself was an improvement from his last crush. He even went out on dates with you…sort of. Group outings with Tara, Chad, Mindy and Anika counted as dates, right?

Either way, it was another improvement. If there’s one thing high school taught him, it was that sitting around and waiting for people to come to him was borderline useless; insert the name of the crush he quickly forgot about upon meeting you.

You; the cute girl in his econ class.

You; his sister’s roommate.

You; the girl currently walking straight towards him. 

Shit.

“Hey, Ethan,” you greet in your usual cheery voice.

He smiles back, hoping that he hadn’t gotten too caught up in his thoughts to the point where he was staring at you. He hoped that you didn’t come over here to call him out on it. “Hey,” smooth.

You adjust the strap on your shoulder, tilting your head to the side as you ask, “What are you listening to?”

His brows furrowed before he realized that he still had his earbuds in. Now he knew why your voice sounded so muffled. 

Quickly pulling them out, he stuffs the wires away in his pocket as he shrugs. “Oh, um, nothing. Just a playlist I made,” he simply said, applauding himself for being able to sound so casual when his heart was beating a million miles a minute. 

You nod, looking down at the tiled floor of the hallway. “That’s cool,” you trail off, feeling like you were bothering him with your sudden presence. Maybe you were overthinking it, but the way he talked made you think you were interrupting something, whatever that something was. The last thing you wanted to do was bother him.

Unbeknownst to you, Ethan didn’t think you could ever bother him.

He sounded so closed off just because he was having a hard time coming up with words, the effect you had on him quickly beginning to take over his whole body.

“Um, well,” you murmur and back away, feeling your face heat up in embarrassment at the short lived conversation. “I guess I’ll see you later.”

Ethan’s eyes widened as he watched you turn around. He mentally kicked himself for being so monotone with you and giving you the wrong idea. Fuck, of course he’d accidentally give you the impression that he didn’t want to talk to you when it was actually the exact opposite. “Hey, wait,” he called out before he was able to fully think it through. You turned around, a small, confused smile on your lips. “I actually wanted to show you something. I made it last night.”

You raise one brow and walk back over to him. “You made it?”

He laughs awkwardly, shoving his phone in his pocket. “Yeah, I was bored,” he answered and tried to ignore the way his heart fluttered at the sound of your laugh. “Can I see your phone?”

“Um, yeah,” you grab your phone from your back pocket and hand it to him, confusion still evident on your face. “How are you going to show me what you made on my phone, though?”

He smiles to himself at your cluelessness, putting in your password - he still can’t believe you trusted him enough to give him that - and going onto the Spotify app. “It’s a playlist,” he tells you and your face heats up for the second time. 

“Oh…right,” you nod. “I knew that.”

Ethan shakes his head and hands you back your phone. “I made it for you,” he says. “It’s full of songs that remind me of you.” He hoped you wouldn’t find his words creepy or weird. What was he doing?

You take your phone, tearing your eyes away from his to look down at the screen. It showed a playlist on his account, simply titled ‘For Her’. “Oh, wow,” you say quietly, scrolling through the songs before tapping on the heart icon and saving it to your own account. “Thank you, that’s really sweet.”

His own face heats up in a blush, his eyes meeting yours once again. “No problem,” he says just as quietly. “I hope you like it.”

You smile at him. “I’m sure I will,” your eyes briefly look at his lips before you back away again. “I’m running late, but I promise I’ll listen to it later.”

“No rush,” he calls out as you give him a final smile before turning around the corner. 

It was then when he could finally breathe again. 

-

Ethan hadn’t seen you in a few days. You were busy with work and studying and he had more than a few assignments he had to catch up on. 

You stayed true to your promise and listened to the playlist. However, instead of just listening to a couple of the songs and skipping over others, you listened to every single one. Over and over again.

Thanks to the app’s friend activity being on, Ethan was able to see that you had the playlist on repeat ever since he gave it to you. 

An undeniable feeling of happiness consumed every inch of him, filling him with a sense of pride. He was happy to know that the three hours he spent putting that playlist together weren’t for nothing. 

Thank God for Spotify and it’s weird but very useful features. 

Another day or so goes by before he sees you again, a warm feeling washing over him as you give him a smile that takes up nearly your entire face. “Hey, Ethan!” You greet him like usual, but this time you catch him by surprise as your arms wrap around his shoulders in a hug. “Thanks so much for making me that playlist. Some of those songs are really good.” You wanted to say all of them were good, but also didn’t want to come off as being too forward. 

“I’m glad,” he returned the hug and had to force himself to pull away after a few seconds. “So, I take it you like it?” He knew you did but he also wanted to hear you say it as well. 

“Of course, I love it,” you reply, feeling shy all of a sudden. You weren’t dumb, you knew what 99% of the songs were about - if it wasn’t obvious enough. Each one gave you butterflies, as did the title of the list. 

For her.

You could kiss him right here and now.

 “Good, that’s good,” he says and you try to fight off your growing smile.

“There were some really romantic songs on there,” you trail off, hoping to anyone that was listening that you weren’t reading too much into things. You’d die of embarrassment if you were to confess your feelings to him and have him turn you down. You’d probably cry if he were to say he just saw you as a friend. 

Ethan leaned against the bricked wall of the university, his forearm keeping him balanced as he raised it just above his head. “Only some?” He teased, knowing damn well that all of the songs were romantic in one way or the other. 

Relief falls over you at his voice, his teasing grin only making you believe your suspicions even more. “Okay, maybe more than some,”

Ethan’s smirk turned into a boyish grin at the way your face began to tint red. “More like all of them,” he smoothly corrected you, not entirely sure where the sudden boost of confidence came from, but not wasting a second of it. “You know, I meant it when I said they reminded me of you.”

You feel your face flush at his words, tilting your head down to stop your growing grin. “Yeah, I know,”

Ethan felt like he could fall over at any given second and he was glad his arm was currently doing a very good job at keeping him up right. Still, before he could lose the courage he rarely ever felt, he inched closer to you as he says, “I’ve been meaning to ask you something,”

You don’t dare move or speak or breathe as you wait for him to continue, your eyes never leaving his. 

“We’ve been friends for a while now, and it’s been great. Really great,” he starts and waits for any indication that he should shut up before he ruins something good. When you only slowly nodded, he decided to just go for it. “But I want something more. And I want it with you.”

Your eyes flicker all over his face, butterflies begging to be set loose all over your body as you process his words. Even though you had a strong feeling that you already knew what his answer would be, you still ask, “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I really like you,” the butterflies had officially been released and your face heats up in both relief and happiness, overjoyed that your feelings weren’t one sided. “Would you like to go out with me?”

You refrain from screaming out a ‘yes’ and instead look down at the concrete you were both standing on. Slowly, you nod and don’t bother to fight off the smile growing on your face. “Yes,” you say and feel your heart skip a beat at the way his tense shoulders immediately lift, a grin taking over his own face. “Yes, I would like to go out with you.”

[mi55delulu]

[5:38 p.m.]

pairing: team lead!jungkook x hr lead!fem reader

wc: 1.7k

genre: coworkers au, FLUFF!!

cw: corporate lingo (shivers), sfw, jk being a cutie patootie, oc lowkey oblivious but we love her.

a/n: yeaaaah i kinda went over the typical 1k word count with this timestamp drabble. but hey, this is my february contribution. isn’t the banner super cute???? anyways, enjoy!

You had a strict routine.

Wake up at 7:20 a.m., out the door by 7:45 a.m., shuttle to work by 8:15 a.m., and the rest was history till it’s time to clock out at 5:00 p.m. Rinse and repeat until the weekends hit.

Being the lead for your little team of five had its perks. You never had to do any of the grunt work minus project managing and individual check-ins with your team members. Things were easy because you worked with some of the most competent employees.

Human Resources was one of the fields people strayed away from due to their bad rep on upholding the company’s interests and values first. It’s true. You love your work though. You love that there’s a solid beginning and end to your job. Someone was always hiring and someone was always applying. Someone always had a personnel issue and someone was there to fix it.

There was always a resolution.

Let’s be real — not everything was a happy resolution. You worked by the books and as a result, you’ve had to make some difficult calls. As the team lead, you’ve taken upon yourself to be the bearer of bad news. Just like how you’re on a Teams call right now with Jeon Jungkook, lead of the Data Analysis & Corrections team. It’s a group meeting between you, him, his manager, and your team member to break the news that a promotion in place for one of his team members was not approved.

“Again, I do apologize, but even with the justification memo, the budget cuts for this quarter won’t allow for another promotion in place. The team member hasn’t reached their second probation either—“

“Yes, but we’re trying to retain talent in our unit. I have another two that already accepted firm offers for another company. I’m down to my last two team members, and if I don’t offer some sort of incentive to stay, work is going to pile up and we’re not going to meet our service level agreements.” Jungkook adjusts his headset. This wasn’t your first rodeo with Jungkook. He’s always been an advocate when it came to his team, which was why his team members always excelled and promoted after a year in their position. You admired him for his persistency … until it gets escalated to a meeting like this.

“Have you considered reaching out to other teams for assistance? Perhaps we can redirect a couple folks over for temporary assistance.” You offer.

His manager takes over the meeting to give his take on the decision. You zone out. Mute button on to hide the sigh you let out. Unlike Jungkook, his manager had a way of steamrolling and derailing a meeting. One skill you’ve learned in your role is to let the other person talk. If you don’t contribute, they will eventually run out of things to say.

Jeon, Jungkook [4:48 p.m.]: what are you doing on 2/14?

You [4:48 p.m.]: Work. It’s a Friday.

Jeon, Jungkook [4:50 p.m.]: oh ok

You react to the Teams message with a thumbs up and refocus on the call where Jungkook’s manager continues his rambling.

Jeon, Jungkook [4:55 p.m.]: your hair is pretty btw. is that a new necklace?

You [4:55 p.m.]: Flattery won’t change the outcomes of this meeting, Jungkook.

Jeon, Jungkook [4:56 p.m.]: aw, can’t say i didn’t try …

You stifle a smile. Eyes avoid the part of the screen where Jungkook smiles back dumbly. Certainly it was no smiling matter now that the call has gone over the allotted time and it’s past your typical clock out time when you interrupt his manager. It was for your team member’s sake since they were paid by the hour. Being a team lead, you were technically always on the clock. But again, you had a strict routine — out by 5:00 p.m. and this was well past your work schedule.

“We can table this for another time. I’ll put something on the calendar later this week.”

“If it’s not to approve the promotion, then I don’t see the need in the meeting.” His manager sighs.

“I’ll meet on our behalf, if it’s alright with you,” Jungkook says to his manager, “I’d like to discuss some alternatives.”

His manager waves him off and thanks everyone for their time before signing off the meeting. Jungkook apologizes to you with a tight-lipped smile.

—

He gives you the same one later on that evening when it’s just you and him waiting for the parking shuttle. Tie loose and hair no longer gelled up like it usually is in the morning, Jungkook stands next to you in silence.

“Sorry for going over the meeting time.”

“Not your fault,” you don’t look up from your phone, too busy typing out your grocery list, “just don’t include your manager in the call next time.”

You know it’s not his call to make. As great as a leader Jungkook is to his team, he’s only as great as he could be under a micromanager. Doesn’t have the heart to leave his team, but also doesn’t deserve that sort of treatment from his manager. You’ve hinted this to him plenty of times in the past. Sure, you recognize that any decision or advice given in your role needs to be in the best interest of the company. But Jungkook was an integral part of the company and taking care of an employee’s wellbeing was a part of your job too.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” he apologizes again, “you know how he is.”

You nod and step forward when the shuttle pulls in.

With plenty of open seats to choose from, Jungkook chooses to sit next to you. Always does, ever since you both started in this company years ago fresh out of college. He greets you every morning and texts you if he calls out sick … as if you’d notice if he wasn’t there.

Newsflash, you do. Always do.

“You really aren’t doing anything on Valentine’s Day?” His forearm takes up more space on the armrest than necessary, but you don’t mind.

“I told you, work.”

“Boring.”

“You have something planned?” You raise one of your brows at him. It shouldn’t come as a surprise that Jungkook dates and it wouldn’t be a surprise if he had someone to celebrate Valentine’s Day with.

“Not anymore.” He pouts, “work schedule conflict.”

“Bummers.” You go back to looking at your phone, awkwardly relieved at the revelation.

It’s a quiet ride, but it’s nice because you know that you’ll be home soon. That is, until Jungkook nudges your arm lightly with his elbow.

“I got a job offer from another company.”

People promote. People retire. People come and go. It’s normal in your field, so why do you feel like you’re being deserted? You’ve been hinting that he deserved a promotion. Know he deserves more, but wasn’t expecting this.

“Congrats,” you try to say evenly.

“Turned it down though.”

Another breath of relief leaves you this evening.

“Why?”

“Cause you’d be bored on these shuttle rides without me.” He smiles.

You roll your eyes, but mirror his smile nonetheless.

“Old man Han told us yesterday he’s going to retire by the end of this year. Think I can stick around till then and apply for his position,” Jungkook stretches his legs.

“Ah.” You’ve already known about this months ago given that Jungkook’s manager notified your area to ensure a smooth transition before his exit. Wanted your team to get started on recruiting a couple months before his last day so that he can pick out and train his next protege.

“Ugh, you knew about it, didn’t you?”

“Sorry, had to keep that on the low. HR things.”

“I thought we were friends.” He muses.

“Will you give me a peek at the interview questions?” He knows you won’t, but asks anyways just to see if you’ll scowl at him. Of course you do.

“You’ll do fine. Han likes retaining talent too.” And you’d like to keep working with Jungkook.

The shuttle drops you both off at the off-site parking. It’s just two cars in the lot parked right next to each other: his pulled in from the rear and yours from the front. It makes getting into your car difficult because one person would always have to wait for the other person to go first. Jungkook always lets you go first.

You open your door, pause, contemplate on what you say next. A simple goodnight or drive safe would do … but you know he’s had a rough week. He was very vocal about it in his Teams messages with you. You turn to him and he has this anticipating look on his face.

“The justification memo was good, but we need numbers. You’re good with data — ask me for some tomorrow.” You say. You assumed he would be happy with your tip, instead he looks a bit dejected as he bids you goodnight.

—

The workweek continues and Jungkook was able to get his team member’s promotion in place approved thanks to your help on the side.

Friday rolls by and you greet your team members one by one before heading to your desk.

“Oh, there’s something at your desk.” Jihyo pushes herself out from her cubicle. “Delivery person told us it’s for you. No sender name though … I think you’ve gotten yourself a secret admirer.” She smiles coyly.

That’s when you see the bouquet of pink peonies with a little note.

Flattery won’t change the outcomes, but you always seem to find a way. I appreciate you.

p.s. How many times do I need to ask you about Valentine’s Day before you get the hint?

p.p.s. Didn’t realize how expensive peonies are off season. You’re lucky I like you.

You log into your computer with a smile, fingers flying across your keyboard the moment the Teams application loads on the screen.

You [8:20 a.m.]: Didn’t think peonies would break the bank.

Jeon, Jungkook [8:20 a.m.]: you know … people usually say thank you after receiving an extravagant gift

You [8:20 a.m.]: Thank you.

Jeon, Jungkook [8:21 a.m.]: much better 😌

Jeon, Jungkook [8:21 a.m.]: sooo ……..

You [8:21 a.m.]: What are you doing tonight?

Jeon Jungkook is typing …

—

a/n: hehe. if anyone talked to me at work like this im reporting them to hr. but its jk, so we’ll let him slide right? hope yall enjoyed! lmk ur thoughts 💟

[angelcakestarlet]

salvatore part 3.0

richie jerimovich x reader

warnings: age gap, cheating (eventually) (guys it's for the plot i swear), drugs mentioned, swearing.

guys this part is gonna be divided into two bc it didn't fit into one post :< they've been posted at the same time, u can find part 3.5 on my acc! thanks 4 all the love cuties <3

most people would call richie an asshole, it was just his nature y'know? how he walked around with that smirk you couldn't wipe off his face, fucking with cousin, trying to 'man the ship' and take control with his abrasive voice and attitude. after you got hired at the beef though, everyone wondered to what extent of an asshole richie really was. carmy and tina were on his ass the most, gifting him a quick smack on the shoulder or upside the head whenever they caught him staring at you, eyes trailing you out the door. they knew he could be an asshole, obviously, but they wondered if he was really the type of guy to take one look at your gleaming eyes and full cheeks and not be able to help himself. everyone in the kitchen called you 'baby', there was no avoiding how obviously young you were. richie knew, of course he knew, the way you looked up at him through your long lashes. the bags under your eyes nowhere near as dark and deep as his or carmy's. you were achingly sweet, and it killed him. when you smiled at him, bidding him his daily 'good morning, richie!' he felt his teeth rot in his mouth. like he wanted to store you away in his pocket and never let anyone ruin that sparkle you held behind your eyes. yet at the same time, if it was up to him, he could be the one to do it. a reminder he felt every time he played with the ring on his left hand. god, he could ruin your life if you let him. it's not like actively wanted to, but whenever he caught a glimpse of the sun hitting your soft skin he felt something intangible. so when you came up behind the alley and sat next to him on your first day, and he saw the way your glossed lips wrapped around his cigarette he knew he couldn't help himself, he wouldn't. he saw it that day, a part of you is sick enough to want this too. from that point on, you play along. his sweet names for you, soft touches, like he wanted to guide you, teach you. 

"tell baby she can't be ringing in the orders all at once, cousin!" carmy yelled over at richie through the expo. "well maybe if you picked up the pace, did the damn system the way it's meant to be done you'd get it done, cousin." richie yells back rolling his eyes, he was being stubborn about all of carmen's new 'rules'. "just tell her, asshole!". richie threw his hands up, exiting the kitchen to find you ringing in orders on the new tablet that only you can seem to figure out. he comes up beside you, gently pulling your hand off the screen. you turn, recognizing richie's strong cigarette and minty aroma. "cousin's being a little bitch so i'm just gonna need you to slow down on ringing in orders. alright, sweetheart?" he nods his head towards you. "oh shit, i'm sorry richie i forgot you guys were short staffed today! if you want i can help back there-" richie chuckles at you stumbling over your words. "no no, don't worry about it, doll. you keep your pretty little self up here-" he grabs your shoulders facing you back towards your tables, "and let me worry about what's going on back there". you let out a small laugh and agree, feeling his big hands gripping your shoulders. "keep raking in those tips, baby!" he yells back as he makes his way back into the kitchen. "yo, you told her, cousin?" carmy questions as richie walks back into the hectic kitchen. "yeah fuck off, she's doing great out there. that face brings in the big bucks man" sydney throws her head back at his words, "richie you can't be saying that! i think even the way you look at her is an HR violation." "syd, fuck off, i am HR" he responds with a cocky tone making sydney roll her eyes.

it was a few days after the day of the game, and the little show richie put on to protect you from some drunk asshole. he had laughed to himself the entire way home, imagining your 'boyfriend' picking you up that night. and every night after work as a matter of fact. how you'd go home to him and lay in bed thinking about richie. his hands, the scruff on his face, the shadow his figure casted over you when he stood behind you, the way his gaze imprinted on you, and the way his voice changed when directed towards you. richie could always clock the want in your eyes, almost like you would surrender yourself to whatever would fall from his mouth. finding out about your boyfriend just confirmed his suspicions; you were just the type of girl who's looking for someone to take good care of her. 

it was the following friday night after a particularly stressful shift at the beef (when wasn't it) and tina had rounded everyone up, convincing everyone to head to the bar. "ugh, but tina i'm all sweaty" you frowned, always wanting to head out looking your best. "baby throw on a dress and some lipstick and i promise you'll look just fine, mija." she came up to you, reaching up to flatten your fly aways with her small hands. "plus who you trying to look good for anyways, richie?" she laughed but then quickly noticed your red face and paused. "what?" you asked slowly with a nervous tinge. "don't tell me you got the hots for richie, girl." she looked at you, eyebrows as crinkled as ever. after your lack of response she let out a long sig, "ay no, niña. i love that boy, i really do but he is bad news. plus baby he's too old for you, my god, and you're too pretty. no no no you stay away from him." she ranted on before you could even get a word in. "no, tina! i don't, I promise!" you exclaimed, she stared unconvinced, "plus i've got a boyfriend". "hmmm, okay, i'm watching you girl. go get ready." her tone still sounded unconvinced, just a bit more at ease knowing you're at least 'taken'. you quickly composed yourself in the dim fluorescent's of the beef's bathroom as everyone made their way to the bar. slapping on some lipstick, your hoops, and trying to manage as much of your hair as you could. "wepa!! look at you, come on let's go before everyone gets drunk by the time we get there" tina pulls you off into her car. 

pt 3.5 up now!!

[wannaeatramyeon]

Ryuhei Kuroda x Reader: Flirtations

G/N. You, a lil dense. Ryuhei is Ryuhei.

Ryuhei hasn't made up his mind whether you're dense or deaf... Or selective hearing is more like it.

When he turned his so-called charms on you, you always plastered on an innocent smile and asked him to repeat again what he said.

Well, doesn't that lose its impact the second time round. He rarely repeats his words and slinks away, pride and ego wounded.

Other times you would just outright ignore him. Which is fine, he supposes. He's used to that after pining after Mitsuki for years.

Yet sometimes he would catch you watching him with a look that would make his own face burn.

Sigh. What is a Kagiroi supposed to do?

Am I losing my touch, Ryuhei thinks, Did I even ever have a touch? He looks down at his crotch glumly. Looks like it's just you and me.

.

.

"Hey cutie~" Ryuhei grins, leaning over your desk and wanting attention.

(Ryuhei's style of flirting is less harassment and more playful with you. Sorta.

Him and Mitsuki are one thing, but even Ryuhei knows where to draw the line with most people. It would be a pain if HR got involved, or god forbid, that little bastard Eugene.

Why that twink has taken such a liking to you, Ryuhei would damn well like to know. Hell, why Ryuhei himself has taken such a liking to you, he can't figure out either.)

Brushing his tie out the way, you don't bother peering up at your blonde coworker. You're this close to finishing the document. Just a couple more paragraphs and you can clock out for the day.

You hear him chatter away over the top of your head but your focus remains firmly on the papers. Eyes skimming over the last line, you sign it with your signature and breathe a sigh of relief.

Done.

His voice drifts over as soon as your pen lifts from the page, "You're finished?"

A nod. Ryuhei returns your gesture with a smile. He was aiming for salacious but it comes out sweet.

Then returning back to form, his eyes greedily rove over your figure as you stretch, elongating your body and hands reaching high over your head, hearing your joints crack and pop.

The smile on your face matches his, a bit too sentimental for his heart to take. Your words, however- "So all those times you said you wanted to play, what did you have in mind?"

"W-what?"

"Wanna go for a ride?"

Goddamnit, those are his lines. Did he hear you right? You wanna ride him? Ride his d- "Ride?! Right now?"

"Yep!"

"Me and you?!"

"Sure!"

Ryuhei looks down, feels the first stirring since forever of his little attack dog-

You stand up, legs stiff after sitting down for hours, and pull on your jacket, "You're always going on about it, let's go get your bike!"

Shit.

You meant an actual ride.

Fuck!

Ryuhei plops down on a nearby chair, crossing his legs to hopefully conceal his growing interest.

"...Give me a moment." He mumbles as you tilt your head in confusion.

[simmer-rhi]

Another book club meeting, and more skill building. Earning a ton of points to finish the leader of the pack aspiration is slow work.

But, Anjelo reached level 10 gaming! He's a mere 3 hrs away from completing the computer whiz aspiration...

And then the dog called to tell Joseph, who's upstairs making friends with a bear, curfew is about to start. Well, we don't want to get in trouble with the dog, so we head home....

And the truth is revealed - Cutie's call was nothing to do with curfews, and all to do with the giant monstrosity that has grown in the back garden - what the heck is that thing?!

(We called him George btw)

[simmerlau]

Beja and Cami arrived at 4am to the new house, they rented a car in a well-known car dealership near the portal, so they could travel comfortably, although they had their brooms they wanted to try new things, there are no cars in the Realm of Magic! Benja, who had always been interested in human things, had learned to drive on a vacation when a friend took him out of the portal. His parents never really wanted him to go, but being people they trusted, they allowed him to spend the holidays outside de Realm of Magic.

On the way home, they found a small dog being attacked by beasts, something unusual for Glimmerbrook being a territory guarded by wizards.

Camila who is an animal lover, rescued him and bought some food and a toy, in a 24 hrs store on the way. She also healed his wounds with magic while they were in the car, she was always better at spells than her brother, who after an accident as a child began to have trouble channeling magic, although encouraged by her sister, he always tries to improve and believe that maybe he can find his talent.

Through her conection to animals, Camila found out that this doggie's name was Beru. Such a cutie, she'll take care of him from now on.

[lylethewaterguy]

Just saw the blue beetle movie and here’s my thoughts

Spoiler free: It was great. 10/10 movie, it was really fun and definitely one of my favourite superhero movies, maybe even my favourite live action superhero movie.

With spoilers:

I loved the fact that Jaimes family was in it the whole way through, the whole thing was so wholesome and family focused and I loved it. Sometimes movies will try to send a family focused message but the family is barely present, but here Jaimes family was actually really there the whole way through and didn’t just feel like an emotional add on.

Low-key really liked Jenny and wouldn’t actually mind it if she made it into the comics (although she’d have to be from an alternate universe or the future or something cause I don’t want Ted to be a deadbeat). She actually felt like teds daughter (unlike Victoria who kinda just felt shoved in there a bit).

I liked the story, it was a really good high stakes origin story without being too high stakes. It can get a bit frustrating when someone’s origin story is like “evil dude trying to take over the world” and that’s supposed to be their first threat. Especially in a universe where superheroes already exist, cause then it’s like why aren’t the others stepping in? But for this it made perfect sense why no other heroes were present and Jaime was allowed to just have his origin alone with his family.

Some specific things I loved:

The suit and the CGI all looked amazing, the movie was really incredibly well made and I felt so hyped whenever Jaime was fighting.

The BUG!!! It felt so much like Ted was actually present in the movie in the bug scene and I loved it.

Jaimes grandma just casually having an extremely dangerous past.

When Jaime came to Kord industries and his whole family was by the car!!! I loved it, they’re such cuties

Milagro, just everything about Milagro

Khaji-Da speaking Spanish after they fused!!!!!!! Ahhhh I love it!!!

“Her mom died”

Overall this movie may have been the worst 2 days of Jaimes life but it was the best 2 hrs of mine. I loved every second of it and I would HIGHLY recommend everyone watch it, it’s great!

[spiriiitt]

Okay so like I have no clue how to colour work coloured pencils, and the ones I have I got in a free art box for disadvantaged kids like 4 years ago so they're terrible terrible, but YOU SEE THE VISION RIGHT????

This post is just going to be me ramblings about the world building I've done so far for it, mostly on meifwas and Aphmau

Aph appears in the forest and follows vylad wtvr, doesn't remember anything yada yada yada we KNOW HOW MCD WORKS I just have to workshop it in the mlp logic and shit.

Aphmau has an abnormally long, curved horn, one that is often associated with powerful magicks users, however much longer. However, aph does not remember how to use her magicks when she shows up to Phoenix drop, at least not for a while. Her markings make villagers think she may be a zebra for a second, but they do not resemble theirs in the slightest and rather are not something recognisable to a species or any modern cultures they know of in the village. Her marks extend up her horn and follow where wings would stem from on her torso

Emmalyn does not recognise them either, and is very fascinated by aphmau's horn, however is very aggressive towards her, especially upon seeing hr cutie mark. Her cutie mark is rather dull and almost blends in with aphmau's coat, but it is the symbol of Irene. Emmalyn isn't quite sure of why, but as a dedicated Irene scholar she has reasons to believe it means she may be a closer, but not close, descendant of Irene, or may be destined (or formally was before she showed up at Phoenix drop) to be a powerful Irene priestess or scholar. However she also believes it may mean Aphmau has the heart of irene- the metaphorical heart, as in she is bound to live a similar, though not as important, life Irene did in helping people and trying to bring peace, as Irene had become synonymous with peace and aid by this point in time, so the forming of her symbol as a cutie mark didn't seem impossible in the grand scheme of things to Emmalyn. However, Emmalyn was jealous of the fact Aphmau had the Irene symbol on her, as someone who knew, or could not remember, nothing about Irene.

In saying that, a pony had not been seen before with the symbol of a god or divine warriors before.

Aphmau probably gets her wings when she has her first Irene transformation thing, or maybe when she GOES to the Irene dimension.. idk I have to rewatch mcd when I have time but I'll get back to the rest of it all.

obviously yk horns and wings or none at all, ponies have em or they don't and they DO vary depending on type of horse! Yk, like meifwa, werewolf, etc etc witches and warlocks yk yk, shadow knights, elves I could go on but I also can't BC idk what else there is.

generally meifwa have thicker horns but they're a bit shorter and curve kind of like a cat's claw does, but upwards, and are very sharp! They're also very powerful generally, and horn embellishments are a large part of their culture for the everyday pony. Some meifwa don't have horns, some have wings or are just earth ponies, but as a culture and type of pony their wings are generally much better for gliding and softening falls, very much like a cat being able to take falls very well, but they aren't very powerful for everything else (though they can still fly obvi) They can glide fast as their wings are very thin so they are very aerodynamic and cut through the air easily.

In general, meifwa have thinner limbs and bodies for agility, and their manes and tails are generally very slick and thin, and braids are considered an art and sign of status depending on the amount.

Mostly very colourful but in duller shades of said colours, thought dye to make it brighter is common, especially among young and/or very powerful ponies.

Their ears are also much sharper and point much more forward, though do not have much fur on them compared to other pony species/idfk what to call it.

Many different unique coats and coat markings can be found within them, and different coats are associated with different families and classes.

Their snouts are also shorter.

I WILL WORK ON WEREWOLVES AND WITCHES L A T E R

🤩🤩

[rosylix]

hellooo jemm how are you doing!! hows your internship going?? genuinely i cant believe its february already and i feel like times going by WAY TOO FAST but its ok!! anyway i hope you're doing well!!! just wanted to check in :P

hii!!! im ok! internship is.. going! honestly it's okay its just kinda boring and i hate sitting there for 8 hrs lol 😭 but it's alright! 6 more months...

SAME on the time thing i feel like haha sure maybe its february 2024.... or 2023... or 2019 like. what the hell dudes. what is going on.

awhshjd thanks for checking in i hope ur doing well too!!! that pic actually makes me insane btw

another cutie yongbok for u (^ー^)

[fairysbookshelf]

Give Me Butterflies by Jillian Meadows

Book Stats:

Rating:⭐⭐⭐⭐(4.25/5)

Spice Rating:🌶️🌶️🌶️(3/5)

Tropes: STEM, Single parent, found family,

Publisher: Avon

Review:

*thank you to Avon for sending me a copy of this book for free in exchange for a honest review-it means a lot that you trust little old me!!!!*

Fans of Ali Hazelwood, I have a new book for you! Give Me Butterflies by Jillian Meadows is that perfect heartwarming, gooey, feel good, and lets not forget steamy romcom that will quite literally give you butterflies!

As a STEM girlie myself, I really love how there is more and more books written about the STEM lifestyle(not all of us can be cute cafe owners or second grade teachers) and it is really nice to see more and more of that representation in our romance books that aren't.....yah know, "I hooked up with this disease I grew in my lab that has somehow grown a body to have s*x with me" kind.

So the good parts, the humor is written really well and really helps add to the heartwarming feeling in the book. The kids in this book are soooo cute! They have true backstories and are truly active in the plot of the story, and are not just used as plot devices(which is normally my big complaint about the single dad trope- I want to see the FMC and the child interact in the plot and have plot points of their own before you judge her on what she can't handle or doesn't know anything about) There is a ton of representation in this book besides the stem that I really truly appreciate as well, including but not limited to LGBTQ+ and positive therapy. Oh! and there is no major HR violation(besides a minor one used as a plot device) with this book(I am looking at you The Love Hypothesis) I know most people don't really care about that kind of thing, but it always makes me uncomfortable and can really ruin a book, because to me, it doesn't seem very realistic that two people can commit a HR violation that serious and walk away scott free. Another big thing that I really loved that the author used in this book is the fact that THERE IS NO MISCOMMUINCATION. LIKE NONE. All of the MC's problems are real problems and because they are truly able to talk to each other, there is no unnecessary drama to keep the plot going. The last thing I absolutely loved about this book besides all of the butterflies it gave me in my stomach? The use of butterfly symbolism. Seriously, like, I shed a tear at it. It was so cutie!

So the bad things. For as long as this book is, I really wish their was more build-up to the chemistry and the "longing". It felt kinda like we were diving off a cliff directly into the plot and love story without running to jump off said cliff. The only other major thing is there was kind of a massive plot hole left off at the end. I get that finishing it was probably not necessary for our main couple to have their happily ever after, but still. It left me with questions at the end and that the story didn't really and truly end at the end of the book.

I think if you are a typical romance reader who enjoys your rom-coms, this book is a definitely a must, especially if you don't enjoy 3rd act breakups and love the single dad trope. This is just a overall cute, wholesome little romance!

[lilac-rose-writes]

FIRST FIC OF THE YEAR!!! ft @stars-artacc @mattdrawssometimes @strangerofartisticvalue l*roy ol*ver mr h*xley & loserboy h*go xx

Oliver did not know where he was. It was very strange and remotely oval-shaped. Ovular, so to speak. Not like oviduct ovular, moreso ROUND. Oilver was not partial to roung. it rememende him of the round bouncy balls he was hit wiht as a chid for his insolence.

A really big snake reared its great head. we're talking BIYVG BIG here brestie. huge ahh cobra. it was green adna little bit ugly but not as ugle as oliver. he glared at it to assert his dominanc eas an alpha wolf, btu as is was a snake it did not understand his canine languege :ALPHASIGMA:.

"What th e freAK is this!?" asked a sudedn ovice. oliver whirled aorun to face it, his boring grey eyes narrowing in suspicion, only to focu son.... an entirely unassuming oboxioucois young man. Wiggly mini snakes of dark hair squirmied over irritating blue eyes. Oliver fetl an odd sort of kindred fspirit with the weird little man.

THESE ANAIMASL DONT LOSTEN NO NOT ONE LITTLE BIT ITS UP TO ME TO STOP THEM AS PLAINLY U CAN SEE ITS GOTTO BE MYDESTINY N ITS WHAT MY CUTIE MARK IS TELLIN ME I TRY TO KEEP EM LAUGHING PUT A SMILE UPON THEIR FACE BUT NO MATTER WHAT I TRY IT SEEMS A BIT OF A DISGRACE I HAVE TO ETNERTAIN EM ITS PLAIN FOR ALL TO SEE ITS GOT TO BE MY DESTINE

"what is that infernal racket?!" a third voice enquired, hackels clearly raised. Oliver cower d int hr face of such an alpha sigma :ALPHASIGMA:. his poofy hair and sharp moustache were a clear sgign of superiority. and also awful fashion else but you knwo. "rarity does NOT need my help!"

"My cutie mark is telign me i should LEAVE." wiggly nodoel man rolled his eyes, then glanced at the two fo the lazily. "i'm ||l*roy||. you?"

"terribly sorry, good man, but your name got CENSORED," oliver replied scathinglhy. "what did you do?! respect a woman??"

a collecivve GASSPPSPPP rang out.

"NOO, OF COURSE NOT!"

"My name is ||Ol*ver||" Oliver tried. when it failed, his face BURTSTI into flamed outhrage. "||Ol*ver! OL*VER!!!||"

"Have no fear, i can read censored!" Mr Huxley anounced alphasigmaly. "leroy, oilver, it appears we have eben IMORISONED."

"not nowwhgfj!" the newly named ||leroy|| cried out in desptiar. "the big games tonight!"

"you wathc soccer/????" merican oliver enquired in itntrugiement.

"no??" ||leroy|| roliged his eyes. "FOOTBALL! good ole british footie."

"yuk."

then, the door BURST OPEN. surprisingly... it was NOT door. a shame really. Sorry Door my queen you shine every day you spakrle fest.

"it is me caonnon star and im here to say you suck." canon dtar told the ma ll soelmnyly. "stop this foolish mission watch a true magician give an exhibition howww pick up your silly twig boyyy youre playing with the big bios now"

so oil picked up his silly twig covered in gresesa and pojinted it at canon sttar!!! then a piano fell on him. TWANG. rip ripr ip lmaosoooo

"what the freak 2 electric boogaloo"

"THIS IS FOR IVY!" Canon matt apeared and threw a really big bath bomba t mr huxley. ||leroy|| reociled in horror when isack helped maty explode the alphasigma leader, stumblgin away into a secret pasaegawya

then ||leroy|| fell off ot fhe clif. it was as big as his fragile asf ego. he died painfuy on the gourhnd <3

"WOO!" the canosn cheered gllefully.

sudenyly loserboy was set alight. "what the fish" he said sadly. then he died.

yippe skipy! sylvia chnaged her ways abd became a cocane dealer. nobody eledse diesd and the worl dwas well. all thanks to st\AR and co!!! co is matpat and isarkc! how spekndiferous!!!!!!

and everybifyd lived hpapily every after while the suckos went to galaxtic L prison in the sky where they learned to sigma grinfset and not suck sm. unforuthnately ut was fruitless as they were dead xx

the end!!!!! :star_struck:

[sonicenvy]

so I found about this cool website that @annieversary3 created that displays a recommended album submitted by anyone each day, and i got a little excited about submitting some cool stuff from bandcamp that i like. i also thought i'd share them here, because, well, why not? what else is having a blog for anyways?? lol so, here are the albums that i (sorry) spammed annieversary3's website with that you all now also have to see.

From the top, left to right:

Puberty 2 Mitski (2016) ❀ Fav track: A Burning Hill

Carrie & Lowell Sufjan Stevens (2015) ❀ Fav Track: Should Have Known Better

Top 25 Austin Bands of 2012 [comp] Sonic Vault ❀ Fav Track: 7 Mile Creek Blues

You Had Me At Goodbye Samantha Crain (2017) ❀ Fav Track: Antiseptic Greeting

On Oni Pond Man Man (2013) ❀ Fav Track: Deep Cover

Narrow Stairs Death Cab For Cutie (2008) ❀ Fav Track: Talking Bird

stray ikea graveyard (2014) ❀ Fav Track: Parker

The Birds & The Beats M.anifest (2009) ❀ Fav Track: Ghana, 52

Easy Way The Cactus Blossoms (2019) ❀ Fav Track: Got a Lotta Love

sidenote, to find more cool tunes 🎵, in addition to annieversary3's awesome website, y'all should also check out:

❀ birp.fm (download and listen to a monthly 100+ track playlist of new, old, and emerging indie music)

❀ radio.garden (Find and listen to online streams of FM/AM radio stations from everywhere in the world on a cool 3d globe)

❀ radio paradise (ad free internet radio 24 hrs per day.)

❀ @despite-everything's radio station & spotify (just good stuff 😊)

❀ 90.9 FM WDCB (Jazz, Blues, and Classic Radio Shows)

❀ streamfinder (find internet radio stations)

❀ 8tracks.com (yes, it still exists)

❀ boilthefrog (generate a playist on spotify to get you from one random artist to another)

❀ lofi-fi hip hop beats to study to infinite stream on YT (all instrumental)

❀ NPR Tiny Desk Concerts

❀ Streema (find more internet radio stations)

❀ egoisticalgoat.de (clone of turntbl, pop in anyone's tumblr url to get a playlist of all of the songs they've shared on tumblr)

❀ musicmap (type in one artist to see artists that are related/similar to that artist)

❀ classical wfmt (for all your classical music needs)

[autisticempathydaemon]

Redacted-tober 2023 Day Twenty-Eight

Prompt: Morgan & Song

Pairing: Morgan & Cutie, background Cutie/Geordi

cw: mild language

Summary: Morgan visits his simultaneous least and most favorite coworker- a spiritual sequel to Day Twenty-Six.

Read on AO3 here!

<- Previous Day

Morgan Kyne, known through the Department for his even-keeled manner and patient temperament, can only take so much.

“This has got to stop,” he says, slamming open the door to his coworker’s office and silently fuming as it slowly inches closed with a hiss. Like every lunch break for the past two weeks, Cutie is emanating saccharine joy, sitting at their desk, smiling goofily at the phone in their hand as it plays endless loops of Call Me Maybe and I Really Like You to their headphones. “If I have to hear another Carly Rae Jepsen song, I’ll report you to HR.”

“You can’t possibly hear my music playing,” Cutie says playfully, not looking up from their typing thumbs and brightly lit phone screen. “Don’t be a drama king, Kyne.”

“I could hear you singing through the walls,” he says, deadpan and disapproving, while Cutie just grins up at him with heart-eyed cheer and abandon. “Disrespectfully, I hope your boyfriend breaks up with you again.”

“No, you don’t!” they say with a scandalized gasp, chucking their rubber band ball at Morgan’s head.

“Read my mind, and see if I’m lying,” he snarks back, catching it with ease and rearing his arm back in a dryly playful threat before sitting in a chair across from them. “I take it your date went well?”

“Geordi stayed over last night and burned the pancakes this morning,” Cutie sighs dreamily before laughing at Morgan’s understated but clear expression of disgust.

“You’re incorrigible.”

“And you’re jealous. I take it your protege is not returning your texts again?” His face sours imperceptibly further, a slight curl of the lips all Cutie needs to see. “Tell me about it over lunch, my treat?” They get up, putting their things away and offering him an arm which Morgan takes as gladly as he is able while still irritated with them.

“It’s the least you could do.”

note: it really amuses me to imagine this Morgan because, like, we all have that one work bestie that there’s just no boundaries and no persona with, and he’s more fun to write that way

[recycledraccoon]

I think a really, really funny absolute CRACK au for Fantasy High, would be some sort of time travel or divination scrying on the past or whatever, for the Junior Year Rat Grinders. I know they've been aware of the Bad Kids since freshman, but how well did they REALLY know the kids? Or what they did, prior to them going to jail or the whole prompocalypse?

I want The Rat Grinders, fresh from Junior Year and The Bad Kids who were maximum legends, to see what an absolute batshit feral mess The Bad Kids were. Riz, diving up a corn cuties ass. Fabian falling off tables, Kristen and Gorgug dying, Adaine absolutely braining the lunch lady with her own soup ladle in the head twice, so hard she dies and Adaine immediately has a panic attack about it. It is the first day of school.

Catching whiff's of suspicious things and tracking it down with wild abandon. Stealing a car leading to a high speed chase, killing truly so many people. Sneaking into a bar, almost dying, but ALSO sending Jawbone to the school.

SEXY RAT

Beefing with middleschoolers and summoning a demon who is also Fig's dad.

Fighting ANOTHER faculty member, killing the coach after making him shit himself. Another student also dies. They revive him, intimidate/black mail him while making him think HE had shit himself and they just switched his and the coach's pants. They then change his entire life by talking to him, helping him reach emotional catharsis and help him realize he's gay.

Beating up Adaine's sister at a party and revoking her diplomatic immunity.

Riz threatening to shoot Biz's brains out, counting rapidly down from 5 and blowing a finger off.

Then doing it again and shooting another. Gives one more chance, before he's going to blow the kids brains full out. Then Fig burning their classmates crotch with fire and Gorgug looming with an axe ready to cut his head off, before Riz even starts counting against. Full on they are ready to murder this teenager they had been friends with up until 10 minutes prior, and are actively committing probable war crimes on him. Fabian is idly commenting on "man we became bullies real fast" in the background.

They go to jail. They get out via a friend they made when they stole a car and burn down a police precinct in the process. Fabian goes into his house, comes out with an eye patch, and immediately goes to prom on his motorcycle.

They kill two older students,fight a dragon and take a full 8-hr long rest in the middle using a time watch. Riz and his mom eat the former vice principal.

The school year isn't even over yet.

At this point in time the High Five Heroes were spending hours a day killing rats, and all the whole The Bad Kids were unhinged, insane maniacs almost dying practically every time they ran off.

I love the Rat Grinders. I think they're evil little assholes (who were manipulated and taken advantage of yes, but still little shits) who I want to get murdered before The Bad Kids pull a Ragh on all their asses, revive them and change their lives. And then I want the Rat Grinders to understand.