#i am a little bit gassed

[feyd-meowtha]

The weather today is cautiously optimistic with a good chance of some actual Clegan content in 3am Eternal ch9 after a brutal six chapter long dry spell

[yayll]

~ a little something about Beast Dazai and his inability to let you go ~

Your hand trembles as you're about to knock on the massive office doors and you wonder if you're about to make the biggest mistake of your life.

You got too close working for this terribly lonely man, and now you're knocking at his door with the only solution you can think of to put an end to your silly infatuations that have gone on for longer than you'd want to admit and can possibly handle. You open the door slowly, and walk into the elegant and massive office space, your eyes falling right onto the dark haired man in all black hunched over the desk, scribbling away as if he didn't hear you come in. You walk quietly, and when you reach the wooden desk, your voice comes out soft and firm.

"Dazai, sir? I wanted to speak to you about something sensitive, if I may."

You chew on the corner of your bottom lip, but quickly compose yourself when you see the face of the man you've spent so much time with, the unfortunate love of your life. if it weren't for his Maroon scarf, he'd look like nothing but a black void. A burnt Black cat. He looks up, narrowed eyes scan you as he takes a sip of his tea, replying in a monotonous tone.

"What is it?"

"After much consideration, I think.. I need to leave the Port Mafia. We've worked together for quite a while now, and I can assure you it's not about the quality or enjoyment of my work. You don't even have to acknowledge this beyond me simply saying it, I just have to confess something that makes my heart ache. You make my heart ache. I know how unprofessional that sounds and that you have no use for such affections, but I can't keep pretending. It's why I think it's time for me to move onto something else otherwise my work will become disrupt-"

A lifted finger is shoved into your face, signaling you to stop, and so you do. Of course you do. You always had a habit of word vomiting when you were anxious. Dazai is staring down at his tea, and he stays quiet for a long time, trying to pick what emotion he can mask his real outraged ones with. Finally, he flashes you an unbothered look, his eyes half lidded as they taunt you. A cruel smirk curls onto his lips.

"Oh? What an awful time for your honesty! I'm currently drowning in work and responsibilities, ones that you're supposed to aid me with, actually. Thus, I have no use for your confession." He simply says.

You can feel a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. You expected this. Looking down at your shoes, you chew on your lip again.

"I had to tell you.. Like I said, you can just forget about it."

"Well you see, that's the problem. I can't forget it. The moment you uttered those nasty little words to me, I realized I have to carry the weight of finding a new secretary. And I resent that."

He looks away for a brief second, his words are bitter and laced with what sounds like remorse and irritation.

You cross your arms and sigh, your voice comes out lower than your confidence.

"I just thought that we were... I suppose I should have never dared to assume you'd ever see me as more than a-"

He instantly leans over his desk, now placing a finger on your lip, his voice just above a whisper.

"... And though these feelings you have for me may be inconvenient, it doesn't mean that they're unwelcome."

He lets his finger rest on your lips for just a second too long, meanwhile you're frozen in place feeling like your chest is going to collapse in on itself. His voice becomes softer.

"Sit, please."

You sit down, now facing each other. It's quiet for a few moments as you both study each other's expressions. This form of intimacy was unusual to everyone else but the two of you, having spent countless hours in the past working across one another without uttering a single word, yet communicating in perfect sync. You were a part of each other's routines, a never ending spiral. Dazai feels himself teetering on the edge of something dangerous, something peeling away at his very soul. He's usually so arrogant and domineering, but in this instant, he suddenly feels an exhaustion wash over him trying to keep that going. He's kept it going for so long, he forgot that he doesn't like doing it with you. You don't deserve to be a part of all of this, and he doesn't deserve to want you.

Oh how he loathes his true identity: A simple man. A human man. Your man.

When he can't take it anymore, he slowly creeps his bandaged hand on top of yours, applying light pressure, but his eyes don't dare look into yours. Not yet. Finally, you break the silence, staring down with furrowed brows at the way your hands fit around one another. You mutter under your breath, tired of being vague.

"What are we to each other, Dazai? I mean really?"

"Do I really need to spell it out for you?" He snorts, trying to cling to the last of his cruelty but failing as he lets his emotions sway his judgement.

You sigh, flipping your hand over so that your fingers can fully intertwine.

"I just don't know how I could ever take up any space in your mind. I didn't think you noticed whether I stayed or left."

He looks up, flashing you a mildly offended look, his sharp eyes narrowing. He scoffs quietly, dropping your hand and standing up from his desk. He walks over to you, his full height now looming. He bends down and scolds you.

"What an obscene thing to say. You're invaluable. You have always been occupying my mind, every minute, every second, every microsecond. I always notice. I'd notice even if I was on my deathbed."

Your breath catches in your throat, and you finally manage to swallow the lump that's building up as you stare up at your reckoning.

"I just- I'd never try to leash you, sir."

His eyes soften, and he tilts his head slightly. You drive him mad with the way you don't realize what a dog he is for you. His voice comes out strained.

"You wouldn't need to. And don't call me that. You know my name, and as your superior l'm ordering you to address me properly."

Your cheeks flush, and you part your lips, letting out the breath you can't stop holding. A faint smile appears on your face, and you stand up slowly to meet him.

"You're like the moon, you know? You control everything like the tides. You control me, Osamu."

He shakes his head, and sighs deeply. If only you could see how wrong you were. He steps closer, moving his hand up your arm gently as he trails his way to your collarbone with ghost-like strokes.

"Did you know that sometimes when I'm laying in bed, all alone after a long day of controlling things, my only thoughts are about you?"

He confesses, sincerely. Dazai brings his face inches from yours, his voice now becoming a pleading whisper. His hand travels down to your waist, gripping it gently.

"Do you find it hard to believe that you bring me to my knees, the big scary Port Mafia boss? Because if so, you're a great fool! I love spending my time with you. I quite literally need you by my side in my times of need and at any random and mundane moment that passes. It brings me unimaginable joy when you nag me to get more sleep, especially when I don't listen because I can't wait to hear you say it over and over again. I don't like it when you have plans, or when you report to anyone else but me. I want you to stay with me tonight and every single night after and I don't care how awful this sounds. I don't care about you having a life outside of me."

Your throat feels tight, eyes wide at the fervor of his words alone. You reply with a shaky breath.

"Every single night after?"

"Every. Single. Night. After..."

"As if we were together?"

"We are together." He declares as if it were obvious this entire time.

Hearing Dazai be so blunt makes your mind fog over quickly, a whiplash of feelings that you never thought would ever see the light of day suddenly surface. He feels the same, realizing how much he's given away to you in such a short amount of time, but for him it's been rotting inside for years. He's been held together by the glue of your support too long not to kneel for you now. It's over for him, he's run out of masks to wear. He slowly guides your body backwards towards the opulent leather couch at the center of the room. You stop when you feel yourself backing up into the cool pebbled hide, and he slowly lowers you down onto your back with his arms supporting you. He delicately hovers over you, looking deeply into your eyes as he takes in the way your bodies feel against each other. For a moment he worries he might actually be trembling.

His breath hitches when you place a hand on the bandaged side of his face that covers his left eye. You stroke the fabric lightly, eyes twinkling with unfiltered adoration. He thinks about the only other person who's ever looked at him with such reverence, and how painful it is not to be able to tell his best friend he's in love. He leans into your touch, humming softly and closing his eyes as he molds his lips deeply into yours. It's not a kiss of sexual desire. This is a kiss born of romance and intimacy, a mutual oath of surrender. cold bandaged hands instinctively wander your body, starting at the waist down to your hips, and slowly exploring the plush of your thighs, kneading them. He runs them higher, lightly tracing your ribs with his index finger while the other hand cups your face. Dazai's mouth moves gently, and slowly pulls away from yours with a soft whine. His fingers trace your jawline as he stares at you. You taste like milk and honey. Like the moon and rain. He smiles at you, eyes sparkling like the night sky. You feel his heartbeat against your body. Every single pore of your skin is connected.

"Please— don't leave the Port Mafia, and don't leave me alone... Not tonight. Not ever. I'd become a tyrant without you."

"Is that also an order?" You murmur in between shallow breaths, dreamy eyes trained on him.

His eyes flicker over to your lips for a moment, then return to your eyes. His voice drops to something that resembles a soft whimper.

"Noo. No, it's not. I could never demand anything from you. But if you'll allow me to act selfishly, I just want to make you happy, to see you smile. I want you to keep greeting me with that tea you make every morning before our meetings. I also never want to hear you call me 'Sir' again. I am not your boss or your friend... I'm so much more than that. We've always been together. We will always be together— Is this too much?"

You shake your head, smiling uncontrollably at the way Dazai rambles in this moment, it's a side of him you've never seen in all the years you've known him. A stark contrast from the detached and cruel presence that frightens others on an almost daily basis. This seems like a person pretending to be the boss of the Port Mafia, an almost perfect imitation. You're not sure what barriers within him had to break for him to become the mushy and needy mess you see before you and what it all means in the long run, but you dismiss it for now. You get the feeling this might be the real Osamu Dazai. And that excites you.

"Never too much. I'm here and I'm staying. I would always stay."

He chuckles, it's a broken shaky laugh bordering on a sob. He buries himself in your neck, smiling against your soft skin, nibbling on it. He lightly runs his tongue against the mark he leaves, and slowly lifts his gaze to meet yours

"... I know you would. You always do."

You tilt your head, and hum in mild confusion at his odd little comment.

"Do you know something I don't?"

He flashes you a knowing smile and speaks prophetically as he lightly traces a finger over a large vein on your neck, following it down to your soft chest. He murmurs lazily while bringing his lips down to where he won't be able to get them off for the rest of the night.

"I know everything, silly.~"

The Port Mafia can wait, he's going home first.

[sombra7567]

If anyone touches the boi, it's on SIGHT.

Art not mine, from the Bunkshelf Wiki, which is super cool- WHAT DO YOU MEAN THERE'S A MITCH I CAN PET-

[vxlvted]

How do you think angry sex with Chris would go? Like, after a fight, maybe a jealousy fit? We all know he is hella respectful, but I truly believe in this case his mouth is spitting fire. The degradation is on another level, he'd say and do the most messed up shit. Of course, afterwards, he would be a puddle to your feet.

Jealous

synopsis: Chan seems to think you and Jisung are a little too close.. and he gets a little jealous…

tags: smut, afab!reader, possessive (lowkey kinda toxic chan i think. idk but he’s very possessive), dacryphilla (? reader cries a bit)

a/n: idk what to think of this? I lowkey hate it lol, but let me know what you think!

You, Jisung, Minho, and Chan are hanging out in Jisung and Minho’s shared dorm. You’re currently curled up on the floor near the coffee table, practically leaning into Jisung as the two of you share a ridiculous story from when you went out to eat earlier that week. His hand brushes your arm while he mimics someone’s voice and you double over laughing.

Across the room, Chan watched. He’s sat on the couch, one ankle resting on his opposite knee, jaw tight, arm sling over the back like he’s comfortable—but he’s not. His eyes flick to you, then to Jisung, then back to you again.

Youre laughter is too.. free. Jisung is sat way too close. And you haven’t looked in Chan’s direction once in the past ten minutes.

He tells himself it’s nothing. You love him, not Jisung. But the way that you tilt your head at him with that soft smile, it stabs at something hot and unsettling in his chest.

You finally—finally—glance over to him. Chan’s gaze doesn’t waver. The look in his eyes is a little darker than usual, hooded and unreadable, but you don’t comment on it. You just offer a soft smile before standing up.

“I’ll be right back,” you say, the words directed more towards Jisung than him, as you head your way down the hall towards the bathroom.

The second the door closes behind you, Chan pushes himself to stand and quietly slips out of the room following right behind you.

You’re halfway though washing your hands when there’s a soft knock on the door. “…It’s me.” comes Chan’s voice.

You blink, staring at the closed door.

“Can you let me in?”

Your stomach flips, you unlock the door and crack it open. Chan doesn’t wait, he pushes inside and shuts in behind him, and it locks with a click.

“What the hell was that?”

You narrow your eyes, “What was what?”

Chan scoffs, “You two were all over eachother. What the fuck was that about?”

You roll your eyes, “He’s just being nice.” Chan stops in his tracks, jaw clenched, eyes dark.

“Don’t play dumb with me. I know what you were trying to do.”

“What are you talking about? I’m not allowed to laugh with our friends? Am I supposed to walk around with my head down so no one gets the wrong idea?”

“I’m not stupid. You were flirting back.” Chan whisper-yells, keeping his voice low so that the two in the living room don’t hear him.

“I wasn’t even flirting. You’re just being insecure,”

In one second he closed the space between you two, hand gripping your jaw firmly, tilting your face so you had no choice but to meet his furious gaze.

“I’m not being insecure, but if that’s what you think, fine. But don’t you dare act like you didn’t know what you were doing in there.”

You inhale sharply as your back hits the counter. “Chan..”

He bites his lip, “I just want you to remember who you belong to.” His mouth crashes onto yours before you can even think of a response, a mix of anger, frustration and desperation. His hands grip your hips, backing you into the counter and lifting you onto the counter like you weigh nothing.

“You want attention so bad?” He hissed against your mouth, “You’re gonna get it. Every. Fucking. Inch of it.”

You gasp gassing his lips as the cool marble meets the backs of your thighs and he swallows it greedily. His hands are already under your shirt, skimming your waist, pressing your bodies closer.

“You think I didn’t notice the way he looked at you?” he mutters against your mouth, dragging your shirt over your head. “The way you leaned into him?”

Your jeans are gone before you even realize he’s unbuttoned them, you tug at his shirt in retaliation, teeth grazing his jaw as he yanks it over his head and throws it somewhere behind him.

One hand slips between your legs as his mouth trails down your neck, teeth grazing your skn. You squirm beneath his hands, heat pooling fast and thick into your stomach.

You whimpering when his hand slips under the elastic of your panties and his fingers rub against you slick folds. He smirks against your neck. “That’s right. Only I get to touch you like this, make you this wet.”

“You like making me jealous, don’t you?” he growls. “You like when I lose control over you.”

You shake your head, breath ragged as you try and grind your hips against his fingers. “I don’t—I wasn’t trying—“ You cut yourself off with a moan as he presses one finger into you. You pull his closer by the front of his hoodie to try and connect you lips again.

Chan groans in response, deep and desperate. “You’re mine,” he grits out, finger quickly thrusting in and out of you, curling every so often to hit that one spot. “Say it.”

His words were filthy and his tone was mean. You let out a strangled moan, “Yours.. I’m yours.” you whisper. But the sudden loss of his fingers as he slides them out of you makes you whine, hips instinctively changing his hand.

You barely have anytime to catch your breath when you feel him slide into you and you grip his shoulder with a loud moan.

“That’s it. Louder.”

You let out chocked moans and whimpers of his name again and again, tears begin to run down your cheeks and your voice cracks as he thrusts into you with a ruthless rhythm. “Look at you,” he groans, lifting a hand to gently wipe your tears away. “So needy for me now.”

You bite your lip when you feel his tip graze onto your sweet spot, tucking your head down to his shoulder. His fingers tangle in your hair to pull your head back up.

“Don’t hide now, baby. You wanted this. Acting like a brat all night so that i’ll fuck you like this, yeah?” You shakily nod against his neck in response.

He gives a sharp tug that pulls a loud moan from your lips. So much for trying to be quiet, there’s no way they didn’t hear that, but at the moment, you couldn’t care less.

He leans in, lips brushing your ear. “Good girl. Let everyone hear you, baby.” His voice send a shiver down your spine. He shifts slightly, adjusting your legs so that your thighs are wrapped tightly around his waist. The new angle has him driving harder and deeper into you, and you can help but grind your hips down against him, desperate to meet every thrust.

His hand grips your hips, holding you in place like he’s afraid you’d disappear. Every thrust is rough, angry, desperate. He makes you feel every word, every breath.

You voice starts to falter a bit and your legs tremble around him. “You gonna cum for me?” he groans into your ear, “Cum on my dick baby, c’mon.”

You let out a moan and your body trembles with your release. Chan keeps thrusting into you as your legs fall slack around him, no longer able to hold themselves up. “Please—too much.” You whine as your nails dig into his arms. “Chan—“

“You can take it. Just a little more.” He grunts. Each snap of his hips sending an overwhelming wave of pleasure coursing through your veins. You feel the pace of his hips falter against you and his voice cracks with each hushed moan that escapes his lips.

“Fuck. I’m so close-“ he breathes. You lean in, pressing your lips to his in a desperate kiss, the two of you swallowing each moan that escapes each others lips.

“Come inside me.. please,” You whimper against his lips. Chan lets out a strained grunt in response, his thrusts growing faster, more desperate as he chases his own pleasure. One hand drops between your bodies, and his fingers rub at your clit in harsh, relentless circles. The overstimulation makes your breath hitch and you cry out as you feel another climax quickly building.

His hips still, and you feel him twitch inside you as spurts of warm cum begin to coat your walls. The sensation of him releasing inside you sends you spiraling all over, your climax crashes over you as your legs tremble against the counter.

There’s a long silence filled with nothing other but the sound of your heavy breathing. Then you feel his arms tighten around your waist, pulling you close.

“I.. You know I didn’t mean that right?” Chan murmurs into your neck, voice hoarse and wrecked with emotion. “I was just…fuck. I was jealous. I’m sorry. I took it out on you, and I shouldn’t have.”

You don’t answer right away, your body still trembling. You finger find their way into his hair, gently threading through the strands. “I know,” you whisper. “But really, I wasn’t trying to do anything.”

He pulls back enough just to look at you, guilt flooding his eyes. “I know, I know. I just.. the thought of anyone even looking at you like that, touching you..” He trails off, jaw clenching as he presses a kiss to your temple.

“It messes with my head.” He admits softly, “But it’s not your fault. I just can’t loose you. And the thought of someone else even trying just—I’m sorry.”

“You’re not gonna loose me.” Your voice is a bit hoarse, but there’s no hesitation in it. The reassurance seems to calm him a bit and he nods. He finally pulls put, breathing still a bit shaky. His fingers lazily trace your thigh as he watches, completely hypnotized as a slow, messy is of both yours and his cum begins to slowly drip out of you and down onto the counter.

“Fuck..” he mutters, low and gravelly, thumb brushing your inner thigh, almost in awe. “Look at that…”

You chest still rises and falls with each shaky breath you take as you glance down than back up to watch as he steps away and grabs some tissue for you (and to clean the counter).

You smirk, “You think Jisung will be mad that we fucker in his bathroom?”

Chan lets out a breathy laugh and his eyes flicker to yours. He leans forward, kissing your collarbone.

“Oops,” he murmurs, voice low and smug and clearly not sorry in the slightest.

“It’s no secret, i’m sure they heard,” His words send a flush down your neck. “I’ll just turn the fan on.”

You laugh, quiet and breathlessly, taking the tissue he offers you to clean yourself up while he cleans the counter.

Taglist:

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@yaorzu-blog | @pixie-felix | @compersian | @tshyn | @kittenchaos2024 | @lze325

[bueckers555]

girl where is pt.2 of pazzi 😐 it’s been 2 years atp 😔

SUMMER NIGHTS 2 — paige bueckers x reader x azzi fudd

summary: in which, paige and azzi act like you don’t exist. until their teammate doesn’t.

warnings: smut, oral sex (r and a receiving), strap on sex, spitting?, fingering

authors note: HERE DAMNNN no jk, LMAOAO honestly this has BEEN finished i just needed to edit it and i got lazy 😔 sorry frens hopefully this filth makes up for it

Summer flew by after that night.

The night you were starting to think you imagined.

Not just because it had been days and nothing of the sort had happened again, but because they acted as if it never had. No glances when you were in the same room. No acknowledgment at the dinner table. Not a single word spoken to you, which made the short drive to the ice cream parlor feel unbearably tense, though your parents remained oblivious.

It pissed you off more than you wanted to admit. Because admitting it stung would make it real. And you weren’t about to give them that much power. So all you had left to feel was anger.

But summer was winding down, and you’d be damned if you let them ruin the cabin you’d loved since before you could talk. You were going to soak up every last bit of sun, every jump into the river, every warm breeze before classes started again.

Paige and Azzi clearly felt the same way. The UConn girls had practically moved in, knowing their days of sleeping in until 1 PM, late-night Fortnite marathons, and raiding your fridge were numbered. Soon, it’d be 6 AM workouts, midterms, and press conferences every other day.

You didn’t mind, though. You loved the team—well, most of them. And they loved you.

They weren’t just Paige and Azzi’s teammates. They were your friends too.

That’s what you reminded yourself as you sat on the hood of your mom’s sleek black car, watching them play a heated game of 3v3 in the driveway. Your hibiscus-print tube top rode up slightly, and you tugged it back into place as you snorted at Ice, who was rolling her hands to call a turnover. Paige, naturally, argued—but to no avail.

“Aight, aight, I’m gassed. Imma get waters. Y’all want one?” Paige lifted the hem of her shirt to wipe a bead of sweat from her forehead.

Any other day, you would’ve let yourself gawk at the sight of her abs peeking through her sports bra, the way it hugged her body just right. You would’ve let yourself think about tracing your tongue down the defined lines of her stomach.

Not today.

Azzi followed Paige inside to help, and Caroline, Jana, KK, Sarah, and Aubrey stood off to the side, deep in conversation.

Ice, on the other hand, strolled right over to you, placing her hands on either side of your thighs where they rested on the car hood. She smirked, easy and confident. “Tryna play a lil’ one-on-one?”

You snorted, clamping a hand over your mouth as you shook your head. “I live with basketball players. That don’t make me one. I don’t even know how to shoot the damn ball.”

Ice tilted her head, unimpressed by your protest. “C’mon, then.” She nodded toward the court.

You hesitated but reluctantly slid off the car, brushing past her as you followed her onto the pavement. She gently passed you the ball, then stepped closer—too close, if the way your breath hitched was any indication.

“Alright, first lesson—hand placement. It’s important when you shoot.”

You glanced down at your awkward grip. Ice didn’t hesitate, wrapping her fingers around your wrist, adjusting one hand so it rested more to the side of the ball instead of on top. Her touch lingered as she shifted your other hand.

“One hand here,” she murmured, voice lower now. “And the other here.”

Her breath ghosted over your cheek, her fingers light but firm as they brushed over your knuckles. It was unnecessary—she could’ve just told you what to do. But she wasn’t in any rush to step back.

And maybe you weren’t in a rush to move either.

“Now, bend your knees a little,” she continued, her hands settling lightly on your waist—again, unnecessary. “Loosen up.”

You sucked in a sharp breath but followed her instruction.

Ice hummed in approval, her grip squeezing slightly. “There you go. Now, when you shoot, flick your wrist—” she guided your arm through the motion, her body pressing into your side as she did, “—like that.”

The ball left your fingertips, arching toward the hoop. It hit the rim, bouncing around before finally dropping through the net.

“Oh, shit.” You blinked in surprise. “I made it.”

“Damn right you did.” Ice grinned, her hands still on you. “Might have to start calling you a natural.”

As you smiled back, something made you glance toward the house.

Paige and Azzi were standing just outside, holding water bottles, watching.

Neither of them said a word.

Paige’s jaw was tight, her grip on the bottle firm, knuckles pressing against the plastic. Azzi’s eyes flicked between you and Ice, her expression full of amusement, but something sharp lingered in it. Neither spoke up. Neither intervened.

They just stood there. Seething.

Not that you cared.

Not after the way they’d spent all summer pretending you didn’t exist.

So you let yourself soak in the moment. Let yourself smile as Ice’s hands stayed firmly on your waist, let yourself feel the warmth of her body pressed close, let yourself enjoy the attention—the touch, the easy flirting, the way she looked at you like she wanted to keep teaching you all night.

If Paige and Azzi had a problem with it, well…

They should’ve thought about that before they spent the last couple of weeks ignoring you.

It was late, the cabin dimly lit by the glow of the TV. Coach Carter played in the background, but no one was really watching. The UConn girls were sprawled across the couches, already having fallen in deep sleep, surrounded by bowls of popcorn, Capri Sun packets, and scattered bags of chips and candy.

You sighed, shaking your head as you started picking up the mess. The parents were gone for the night, but if they came back to this disaster, there was no way they’d allow another sleepover.

You heard the soft patter of footsteps behind you but didn’t bother turning around. After spending twenty-two summers in this cabin with them, you could tell exactly who it was without looking.

“You don’t have to do that. Leave ‘em,” Azzi’s voice came from behind, low and casual.

You rolled your eyes. Now she wanted to talk to you?

“Well, someone has to. Don’t think Katie, Amy, or my mom would appreciate seeing the cabin they pay for trashed,” you muttered, placing the last of the bowls in the sink before turning to face her.

Azzi was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, head tilted ever-so-slightly as she looked you over. And not just looked—scanned.

Her tongue swiped across her bottom lip before she spoke. “C’mere.”

Your brows furrowed. “What?”

Azzi had known you long enough to know you’d never act first, so she closed the space between you herself, her hands planting on either side of the counter—like Ice had done earlier.

“That was cute,” she murmured, voice low. “The shit you pulled earlier. Me and Paige, now Ice?”

You barely heard her over the way your pulse pounded in your ears. Your eyes flickered to her lips as she gave a breathless laugh—like this was funny.

But the way she held your gaze told you it was anything but funny.

You mustered up a slow smile, one that felt more like a smirk. “She was teaching me how to shoot. Probably better than you two ever could.”

Azzi gave a humorless laugh, nodding slowly before she grabbed your hand and tugged you toward the stairs. You barely had time to react before she was pulling you into her room, the door clicking shut behind you.

Paige was already there, lounging in a chair like she’d been waiting.

“Took y’all long enough,” she muttered, standing up, stretching, towering over you.

Your instinct was to turn toward the door, but Azzi was already there, leaning against it, her dimples deepening with amusement.

“Wanna hear sum funny, Paige?”

Paige hummed, blue eyes locked onto you as she raked her fingers up your side—slow, deliberate, sending a shiver through you.

“She said Ice was teaching her how to shoot,” Azzi continued, her voice dripping with something you couldn’t quite place. “Better than we ever could.”

Paige snorted. Her hand dropped from your side, and you almost whined at the loss of contact but held firm, refusing to give her that satisfaction.

You crossed your arms. “You can’t just ignore me all summer and then—”

Paige cut you off with a scoff. “Fuck, you wear these tight-ass clothes, your ass damn near hanging out—for what?” Her eyes dragged over your tube top, the curve of your hips, your way too short shorts. “You like the attention? That what you’re looking for?”

Your blood boiled. “Fuck you, Paige.” Your voice was sharp, but your stomach tightened at the way she was looking at you. “Who the fuck are you to tell me what I can and can’t wear? Who I can and can’t talk to?”

Paige exhaled slowly, rubbing her jaw as she looked to the side, like she was trying to keep herself in check. You watched every movement—the way her brows furrowed, how her tongue poked at her cheek, how her lips parted slightly like she was on the verge of saying something reckless.

Like you were pushing it.

And she liked it.

Paige always had a way of making eye contact feel like a game you were destined to lose. It wasn’t just the deep blue of her irises or how sharp her gaze was—it was the way she always made you feel like she was one step ahead. Like she already knew how this would play out before you did.

Like she was just waiting for you to break.

“You wanna fix that mouth before we do?”

Your pulse pounded in your throat.

But you weren’t backing down.

You stared straight into her eyes, unwavering. “You’re a bitch.”

Paige’s lips twitched—like that’s exactly what she wanted to hear.

“Paige!”

You don’t know how much more you can take, have already taken. Her grip on your hips is hard as she snaps her hips forward, fucking you into oblivion.

Paige’s hand cracks against your ass—sharp, sudden—jolting you forward, your tongue sinking deeper into Azzi, a gasp muffled as your sensitive core throbs.

“Fuckkk,” you blubber, voice shaky, her strap sliding in—slow, thick—stretching you open, sinking deep into your gummy walls, a delicious burn rippling through, your moan swallowed by Azzi’s heat—your tongue flicking her bud, circling, tasting her, her thighs trembling, her grip tightening.

“Flirtin’ with Ice—like a little slut,” Paige mutters, voice rough silk, her hips rutting into you—steady, deep—each thrust sending your ass quivering, the bed groaning under her, her fingers digging into your hips—warm, possessive. Your tongue works Azzi—sucking her bud, dipping lower—her juices slick on your chin, her moans rising—soft, needy—her climax coiling tight. “No fuckin’ respect—gonna fuck it outta you.”

“Mmm,” you mumble, voice thick, lost in Azzi—your tongue lapping, eager—her hips grinding down, chasing it, her breath hitching—“Fuck—right there—gonna—” and she breaks, a trembling cry spilling out, her juices flooding your mouth, warm and sweet, her body shuddering as you lick her through it—slow, savoring. Paige keeps moving—deep, relentless—your core fluttering, a quiet wave cresting, your moan soft, your senses drowning in Azzi’s taste, Paige’s rhythm.

Azzi slides off—panting, flushed—kissing you quick, her tongue shoving its way past your lips and into your mouth, tasting herself on your lips, humming low.

Paige pulls out—slow—leaving you empty, aching, flipping you onto your back with a nudge, your legs splaying—quivering, slick—your core tender, begging silently.

She kneels between your thighs—her strap discarded now—her tongue darting out, flattening against your bud—slow, warm—coaxing a jolt, your hips bucking, a whine slipping free as she dives in, licking through your folds, tasting your juices—rich, needy—her hands pinning your thighs wide.

“Paige—oh fuck—” you gasp, voice trembling, your fingers tangling in her hair—tugging—her tongue swirling your clit, sucking soft—her moan vibrating your core, your gummy spot pulsing, overstimulated, tears pricking as she eats you like she’s starving, her eyes flicking up—dark, ravenous. Azzi’s beside you—watching, smirking—her fingers brushing your chest, teasing a nipple—light, electric—your stomach fluttering wild.

“Cryin’ already?” Azzi murmurs, voice a soft taunt, her hand sliding lower—rubbing your bud now—quick, precise—while Paige’s tongue dips deeper, lapping your juices, her lips sealing over your clit—sucking, coaxing—your core vibrating, a fresh wave building, tears spilling—pleasure, surrender—“No dignity—lettin’ us use you like this.” Her words hit hard, your body arching—needy, wrecked—Paige’s tongue relentless, your climax crashing—sharp, trembling—juices soaking her chin, your thighs shaking, a sob breaking free.

“Fuck—too much—” you whimper, voice raw, but Paige doesn’t stop—her tongue flicking faster—overstimulating, ruthless—Azzi’s fingers circling, teasing—your core clenching, tears streaming, your mind hazing, fucked stupid. Paige pulls back—panting, grinning—wiping her mouth, climbing up—missionary now—her strap sliding back in—deep, smooth—your legs hooking her waist, your nails raking her back—soft cries spilling as she ruts into you, hitting your gummy spot—slow, punishing.

“Imma fuck you stupid,” Paige growls, voice husky, her hips rolling—deep, deliberate—each thrust sending sparks, your bud throbbing, raw—Azzi leaning in—her lips brushing your ear—“No self-respect—spreadin’ for us after flirtin’ with her—pathetic.” Her hand slips between—rubbing your clit—light, fast—your core tightening, another wave swelling, your tears hot—pleasure curling tight, your bratty spark gone, melted into their hands.

“Fuck—sorry—” you sob, voice breaking, your core clenching—hot, desperate—Paige filling you, Azzi’s fingers working you—your third climax hitting—sharp, wet—juices gushing, soaking Paige’s strap, your thighs, the sheets—your body quaking, cries loud—submission wrapping you soft and warm. Paige slows—gentle, deep—kissing your jaw—sloppy, warm—easing you down.

“Still not done,” Azzi says, voice firm—sliding off—kneeling now—her head dipping between your thighs—her tongue tracing your folds—slow, savoring—tasting your mess, your bud swollen, sensitive—your hips jerking, a whine spilling as she licks—soft, then firm—coaxing another tremble, tears falling—“Fuck—Azzi—I can’t—”—but she doesn’t care, her lips sealing over your clit—sucking, humming—your core vibrating, wrecked.

“Take it—useless little slut,” Paige murmurs, her hand resting against your cheek. Her thumb trails down and parts your lips, dragging your lower lip down. She lowers herself down, a ball of spit slowly falling into your mouth before lets your lower lip go and chases it, her tongue in your mouth and you sucking on it hastily.

“Cry all you want—gonna fuck you dumb.” Azzi’s tongue dives deeper—lapping, sucking—your juices dripping, your gummy spot pulsing, overstimulated—your fourth wave crashing—soft, shattering—your sob loud—juices soaking her face, the bed—your body limp, trembling, fucked beyond thought.

They settle—Paige curling beside—her hand resting on your thigh—warm, grounding—Azzi climbing up—her arm draping over—soft, possessive—her lips brushing your cheek—tender, lingering. “No more Ice shit—got it?” Paige whispers, voice rough, her breath warm—Azzi humming agreement, her fingers tracing your ribs—light, soothing.

“Got it,” you mumble, voice hoarse—fucked out—your body spent, fluttering—juices everywhere, tears drying, their warmth holding you—your bratty fire snuffed, fucked stupid, theirs completely.

[wincore]

I faked my engagement for free cake samples and got sued after I ran away AIO | haechan

pairing: haechan x baker!reader

genre: comedy, fluff, rivals (?) to lovers (?)

warning(s): quite possibly you will be inflicted with cringe, shameless scamming, mild swearing, one (1) innuendo

words: 5.4k

song recs: santa doesn’t know you like i do by sabrina carpenter, too late for chocolate? by kana hanazawa, like a raspberry by 宇宙ネコ子, honey by kara

a/n: ty to my queens lana and cat for gassing up this dumpster fire i wrote in a caffeine haze while watching my bf die every 20 secs in ds3. the initial plot was going to be far longer and more fleshed out but i fear i'm past my prime ( ._. )" i still hope you guys have fun with this one!! i got to play around with hallmark comedy far more this time, so overall it was a fun time writing <3 happy new year, my lovely mooncakes!!

part of a nonsense christmas: reddit edition collab <3

r/AmITheAsshole

u/YeastMode6969 • 3h

I faked my engagement for free cake samples then got sued after I ran away. AIO?

I (24F, small bakery owner) faked my engagement to get free cake samples at my rival bakery but the employee said I needed my fiance to be there. I panicked and grabbed the first guy to come through the bakery door after me. Turns out he’s not just some random customer. To top it off, he was ridiculously attractive even though he pissed me off every two sentences. I had a panic attack, told myself it’s totally not my fault, and moved on by baking fourteen cakes over the weekend. I thought I got away with it, but three days later, I got an email from him—he’s now suing me for “emotional damages” and “theft of pastries.” Am I doomed, or is this just karma with extra frosting?

⥣ 7.7k ⥥ 2,701 Comments

bun_theory0222 • 2h

INFO: Did you at least try the samples? Were they worth the lawsuit? We’re all dying to know here.

➥ Reply ⥣ 3.2k ⥥

muffinbutdrama1122 • 1h

nah cuz why is he suing when he CLEARLY wants to flirt??? this man is embarrassing but so are you. somebody matched ur freak <3

➥ Reply ⥣ 1.7k ⥥

soggywaffle0205 • 6m

YTA why can’t this shit happen to me. AT LEAST I would commit to the bit.

➥ Reply ⥣ 420 ⥥

cerealfordinner0323 • 2h

Bro sued you just to slide into your life again. He’s not slick, and neither are you. Good luck with that wedding cake.

➥ Reply ⥣ 9,011 ⥥

. . .

If you could hop a few steps to the right, feign unconsciousness, and climb right into the active fireplace, it could potentially make everything okay. For you, that is. Not for the poor bakery employees who would have to call the cops. 

“I’m sure he’s a handsome one!” The girl behind the counter giggles, light pink dusting her cheeks. “You’re- you’re so gorgeous!”

Setting aside the fact that most gorgeous women you know end up with malformed gargoyles, your current predicament is almost equally sinister. What started as an innocuous process to gain free wedding samples (in other words, a scam) has led to a question that should be obvious but completely escaped your mind following your trailing success.

“We’ll need to have you come in with your fiance for the free wedding cake samplers. Is he around?”

Is he around?! Boy, you sure hope so. Because now you’re also frantically looking around with the employee after you blurted out another lie: “He’s going to be here soon!”

When did you turn into a compulsive liar? You’re not sure if your mom would be proud of you for being so good at nabbing free food, or disappointed that you’re a filthy liar. After all, she did tell the buffet employees you were under 10 all the way till you were 14. So, really, you’re not the source of the problem! You brush your festive red skirt of invisible crumbs, trying to busy yourself.

The cafe itself is well decorated for Christmas—a silver reindeer bores holes into your head from by the front door, a small Christmas tree stands at the center that’s a little emaciated but the cute Sanrio ornaments in Santa hats make up for it, and most importantly, a beautiful Mont Blanc cake sparkles from atop the glass counter. (Seriously, why didn’t you think of this? Your own bakery is all sparkles and no play.)

You move out of the way of other customers, and casually glance at the source of your awe and joy. Powdered sugar dusts the top as idyllic snow, covering the sugared cranberries and sugared chestnuts, not dent in them under the white fondant star. The base of the cake is tied with an edible red ribbon, completing the seasonal aesthetic of it. A sigh rests momentarily upon your lips before it escapes. 

You love Mont Blanc cakes, but you never quite get it right. That’s your biggest failure as an up-and-coming baker, and such is the reason for your unhinged serial sampling scam. You swear it started off as a search for inspiration in a creative rut but before you knew it, a lie had spilled from your eclair-sweetened lips, and another, and another. 

It is at this point that you briefly consider bolting for the door. Tibet is great around this time of the year. Maybe if you convert to a monk lifestyle and atone for your sins, you’ll be granted a pardon in the form of delicious sweets. Before you can make your escape, however, the front door jingles, and in strides a sight unbelievably reassuring. A man with caramel hair enters, who might as well be wrapped in a giant red ribbon and seated atop a snow-white horse in golden ornaments.

It’s a Christmas miracle. Hallelujah! They still apply to you.

His smile—soft and sweet as meringue hearts—lights up the room as he inhales the warm, sugary air of the bakery. You’re hit with the vaguest sense of familiarity. He might be one of the few customers you get these days. For a moment, you falter. Are you really going to victimize this stranger?

Yes. Yes, you are. The situation is dire.

“Hi darling!” You exclaim within earshot of the employee, before lowering your voice. “Could you help me out a little here?”

The man blinks, dazed for whatever reason. “Uh… sure?”

“Okay, then follow along and ask questions later,” you reply, and loop your arm through his gingerly. The touch of his fuzzy winter coat makes you relax a little. It is chocolate-colored, with beige fluff around the collar. Not now, you think to yourself, You need to stop thinking about sweets for one goddamn moment.

“Here he is,” you laugh sheepishly as you bring the man forward. Gosh, what in the heavens are you doing? You didn’t even ask his name. 

The employee stares, jaw agape. What’s with the reaction? He’s not that hot. 

“O-oh,” she responds. “That’s quite the surprise. I never knew. Congratulations, sir!”

You turn to look at him. He simply scratches his chin with a sheepish smile, and manages to respond with a “Thanks, Kimi.”

He must be a regular, you think. Oh, (Name), what did you get yourself into? You’re just gonna have to read his name off his coffee order first.

“We have a selection of samples for our wedding cake choices,” the girl, Kimi, moves to the far side of the counter, offering a small menu card to the two of you. “I know you’re not a big fan of wedding cakes, Mr. Lee, but the latest tiramisu flavors should suit your tastes, no?”

Just how close are they?! You chew on your lip and try to calm your depraved little heart.

“Well,” he responds, thinking for a second, “I actually hadn’t thought this far. What do you think, honey?”

He turns to you with a radiant smile, but you sense a hint of mischief. You don’t have time to think of that though—so you just change the topic. 

“Actually, do you have a Mont Blanc flavor? I’ve always had trouble perfecting it myself.”

Truth be told, that ‘honey’ had flowed from his lips and struck you straight in the heart. He’s not too bad to look at, you think now. His tousled hair catches the light with a playful sheen, framing his face and accentuating his disbelieving smile, while his fluffy coat adds a cozy touch to his charming, boyish demeanor. If you were to overthink a little, you’d find a hint of mischief in his voice. Alas, you’re a simple girl who only overthinks sweet treats, not boys.

“You bake?” He blurts, before his ears turn red from realization.

Kimi shoots him a puzzled look and your breath hitches in your throat. Was the miracle an idiot in disguise?

“I mean, uh, gosh, you make me so nervous, honey.” He looks like he’s trying his very best to ace an exam he never studied for. “I meant to ask if you're going to bake.. today? Don’t look at me like that.” 

Maybe you should’ve picked a candied apple and prayed that a witch had poisoned it. You can’t even force out a smile at that pathetic save.

“You’re a lucky man, Mister,” Kimi jabs, a look of distrust in her eyes before they flash to you. “I’m afraid Miss (Name) in a wedding dress would make me drop dead at the altar.”

“Oh, you- you flatter me,” you choke out, “I promise you wedding gowns aren’t my thing at all. Besides, you’d look beautiful in white yourself.”

Why is she so into this wedding conversation? How close are these two? You’re not sure how to react, and neither do you know how this man is going to explain your mysterious disappearance the next time he visits the bakery. You’re sure as hell not going to continue the act beyond this. It’s time you retired from this scam business. You’re not even sure how you’ll talk your way out of this with the man, currently engaged in small talk with Kimi. 

And— is he blushing?! Does he have something going on with the girl—Kimi? Did you just ruin something? Your heart tightens a little, and you have to physically restrain yourself from falling to the floor, head in your hands.

You laugh awkwardly, trying to diffuse the situation. When you open your mouth, you are interrupted.

“Actually, Miss, I think I take back what I said about the handsome part,” Kimi jokes, evident disdain sent towards Donghyuck.

Your natural response is a little laugh that leaves before you know it. Maybe, the feelings you sensed were of unrequited resentment. He does have the kind of face that looks like it’s often smacked by girls. No offense to him.

Kimi hands you the first sample (two delicious slices of Mont Blanc) and excuses herself to fetch the rest. The two of you make your way to a booth with the heaviest silence you’ve ever experienced. You might as well be at a funeral.

“So… free samples are that good, huh?” The man asks, raising an eyebrow. 

“Shut up,” you mutter. 

“I’m Donghyuck, by the way,” he responds with a youthful laugh. “Might I have the honor of knowing my fiance's name?”

“(Name). And stop looking at me like that.”

He lets out a short breath.

“You know, maybe we should’ve pretended it was an arranged marriage.”

“Quite proficient in the scamming business, are you?”

“Oh, you’re better off not knowing my dirty secrets.”

You couldn’t care less about his secrets but the look you shoot at him is certainly dirty.

He opens his mouth but you interrupt him to absolve yourself first. “Listen, I don’t do this often. And I’ll have you know it’s nothing personal. Well, not against you. The owner of this place maybe.”

Donghyuck blinks. “Oh? Do tell. I’m all for being a hater with my fiance.”

You stare at him, not impressed.

“Sorry.”

“Okay, so this started a month or two ago. I had been working tirelessly, testing recipe after recipe, trying to perfect the Mont Blanc cake. It was my dream to make it iconic, you know? But before I could even settle on the perfect combination of flavors, some smug bastard opens a bakery right across from me. And what does he have as his specialty? Why, the Mont Blanc cake of course. Seasonal! Cute, elaborate new decor every two weeks! Just how rich is he? I bet he doesn't even bother to create his own recipes. This guy didn’t just steal my idea, he’s turned my passion into some overpriced, generic trend!”

You heave, tired from the onslaught of frustration. Chewing on your lower lip, a pout naturally makes its way onto your face, and so do more complaints. 

“And that’s not all, okay? I never see him at the bakery. I refrain from entering my competitors' establishments unless I greet them in person. But this asshole is just never there! What, is he too good to work at his own bakery? Too good to grace us lowly bakers with a visit? How could he just swoop in and steal my signature item?”

Donghyuck listens to your rant with intent, cheek resting against his palm. He even looks a little ridiculously charmed right now. 

“Wait… so you’re the infamous Free Cake Phantom everyone’s talking about?” He gasps.

You’ve finally turned to your poor, neglected Mont Blanc sample, just for your heart to jump out. “What?”

“Just kidding. Your secret is safe,” he says, digging into the cake with infuriating nonchalance. “But hey, you’ve got good taste. This Mont Blanc though? It’s my personal recipe.”

Your fork halts halfway to your mouth. “Your recipe? What, you work here or something? And, no offense, but it’s overwhipped.”

If that’s a joke, it’s not very funny. The man looks more like a confectionary than a confectioner. There’s no way he works here. He’s probably some jobless guy drifting from bakery to bakery on early Saturday mornings.

His jaw drops. “Overwhipped? Are you kidding me?”

You wave the fork at him like it’s a weapon. “Chestnut puree shouldn’t have the texture of mousse. It’s called finesse, Mr. Lee.”

Before he can respond, Kimi returns with another tray, and you slip back into character, placing your hand on Donghyuck’s. “Thank you,” you coo at her. “I can’t wait to share all these flavors at our wedding.”

Donghyuck stiffens slightly at the unexpected contact, but he recovers quickly, plastering on the fakest grin known to man. “Anything for you, sweetheart.”

Kimi laughs. “You’re such a lovely couple. When’s the big day?”

You freeze, and so does Donghyuck. For a moment, neither of you has an answer.

“Oh, we’re still, uh, deciding,” you blurt, glancing at him for backup.

“Yeah, we’re thinking spring,” he adds smoothly. “Cherry blossoms. Very romantic.”

“Y-yes. Maybe the Raspberry Rose should be in the winner’s spot then.”

As Kimi bows politely and walks away again, Donghyuck leans in to whisper. “Should I book the honeymoon now, or…?”

“Don’t push your luck,” you hiss, elbowing him in the ribs. 

He makes a pained sound, but recovers quickly. 

The second flavor is dubbed “Marble Eclipse”, a decadent blend of rich chocolate and vanilla, perfectly balanced with a luscious buttercream frosting. You try to focus on the taste, but Donghyuck’s smug grin as he watches you take a bite is more distracting than you’d like to admit. You’re not easily flustered, not by men. Unfortunately, he would have been the exact type you’d have tried to nab in college.

You shake your head. Focus, (Name), you think to yourself, You’re in the enemy’s lair right now!

“So… I might as well come clean,” Donghyuck says with a serious tone, right after you’ve taken a bite. You pause in horror. What arcane knowledge is he going to use for your humiliation this time?

“I visit your bakery often, and I must say your selection is just as good, if not better.”

You exhale.

“Oh, it’s better alright,” you retort, before realizing the unwarranted passion in your voice. You compose yourself. “I mean, maybe their Mont Blanc is… a solid competitor.”

Donghyuck laughs, clearly amused by the bashfulness on your face.

“Wait, are you patronizing me?”

“Of course not!” He places his hand over his heart in mock hurt.

“I think the difference is that this one keeps up with the youth.” He waves his fork about, explaining his point further. “Everyone loves new, shiny things. Cycle those as much as possible. Have you ever considered holding blind box events with your cupcakes? I’m sure the kids would love to find out which flavor of panda bear cupcake they got—matcha, my personal favorite, or coconut cream, or… god forbid, chocolate mint. Ugh. Have you considered removing that from the menu? Anyway, that shouldn’t take too much time and money, right?”

The youth? What is he, forty? However, however, the look on his face as he describes your own baked goods to you is enough to make you intensely flustered. Has this man visited so often? And you never noticed him? How could you miss that easy-going smile?

A familiar figure saves you from whatever awkward, garbled response you were going to muster.

Despite Kimi’s arrival, Donghyuck has a hard time taking his eyes off you. Lashes swaying with each flicker of his eyes over your face, he’s hardly taking a bit of the delicious marble cake, in fact. What, have you got something on your face?

Kimi apologizes profusely before you can say anything to greet her. 

“There’s only one slice prepared for the Tiramisu Dream sample,” she explains. “I’m so sorry about this. Would you mind sharing this one? I apologize again.”

“No worries, Kimi,” Donghyuck responds, laughing a little. You shake your head and reassure it’s alright too. 

Anyway, that slice is going to be yours. You’re ready to pry it from his cold, dead hands.  

To your surprise, though, he shoots a friendly smile at you. 

“Want the first bite?”

“May I?” You ask, just to be sure.

“By all means,” he says, gesturing grandly. “After all, what’s mine is yours, fiance.”

You swear, if he calls you that one more time, he’s going to end up in the cake display.

Kimi stares at the two of you blankly for a moment. It instantly flusters you and Donghyuck both, so much so that the idiot digs his fork into the cake slice and holds it up to your lips with a soft ‘ah’ —and so much so that you actually accept it graciously. 

And all that only for Kimi to not even notice as she excused her way back to the counter. So now you’re just two idiots deep in your romantic charades. Donghyuck clears his throat, too late to cover his coral-tinted cheeks and ears. You’re certain you wear a similar expression.

“You’re- you’re so weird,” you jab, unable to come up with an insult higher than middle school grade. 

“What, you wanted me to do airplanes too?!”

“Take that fork and drive it through your tongue, will you?”

“Woah, woah, no need for violence, Miss (Name). Peace and Love.”

Unexpectedly, it makes you break character into unbound laughter. The weariness of the act and the silliness of the whole situation leaks into the sound, and it’s enough to make Donghyuck join in. For passersby, you are just a couple already past your third, fifth and seventh dates.

“Any comments for the tiramisu cake?” Donghyuck asks, grinning ear to ear.

You catch your breath, wiping a tear from the corner of your eye. “Yeah, I have a comment: who puts this much cocoa powder on top? Are you trying to choke your customers?”

“Awh, and I thought you were gonna be nice,” he whines, “Your smile is just so… inviting.”

As if on cue, he chokes on the cocoa powder. 

“I still like it,” you continue. “I’d just do it better.”

“I have the utmost confidence in that.”

Gosh, his smile is nauseating—too bright, too easy, like he’s actually enjoying this. Maybe he’s a rising actor, and you’re the one being hoodwinked. After all, who looks at someone like that on a first meeting?

A moment passes, and suddenly his thumb is at the corner of your lips, brushing off the cocoa powder with a touch so casual it feels anything but. “Got it,” he murmurs, and the air between you shifts, warm and oddly heavy.

“So, how do you know all this?” you ask, changing the topic. You’re forcing yourself to focus, to breathe. 

He leans back, a small laugh slipping out like he’s grateful for the lifeline. “You- uh- you could say I’m a connoisseur of pastries,” he offers, his voice lighter now. “I like to sample the best around town—just, you know, legally. I even take notes of my favorites.”

He gestures towards you, and you scoff.

The words settle between you as you toy with the edge of your skirt, smoothing the fabric down over your lap. There’s something about the way he speaks—so casual, so effortless—that needles at you. For a man so annoyingly confident, he sure seems relieved to have redirected the conversation.

Your hand grazes the tiny snowman buttons on your cardigan, tracing the cold plastic absentmindedly. His gaze flickers to the movement, then back to your face, a smile tugging at his lips like he’s trying not to laugh. You don’t know what’s more embarrassing—getting outed as the Cake Thief or the fact that he’s bound to know he flusters you.

You tilt your head, giving him a skeptical look. “How professional of you.”

The bite in your tone is softening, and you don’t like it one bit.

He holds up his hands, feigning surrender. “Hey, it’s an art. Someone’s gotta appreciate it, right?”

The faint chatter of other patrons fills the room, but his presence sharpens the moment, making it feel like it’s just the two of you. For a fleeting second, you catch yourself wondering what kind of person would take notes on pastries for fun. It’s so bizarrely specific, so utterly unnecessary—and yet, so like him.

His smile deepens, pulling you out of your thoughts. “You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” he teases.

You roll your eyes, but there’s no stopping the traitorous grin threatening to break through. You refuse to indulge him, even as you feel the faintest crack in your defenses.

"Maybe,” you say, finally.

He chuckles, the sound warm and genuine, before leaning back against his chair with a satisfied air, as if he’s won something. You glance at the tray, willing yourself to focus on anything else.

How awkward. How warm. 

You spot a napkin fluttering off the table, carried by a sudden draft from the door. Instinctively, you step out of your chair to grab it, but Donghyuck beats you to it, scooping it up with an exaggerated flourish and a bow.

“Your knight in shining armor,” he declares dramatically, holding it out like a trophy.

“More like my nuisance in sugar-stained armor,” you retort, snatching it from his hand.

He laughs, unabashed. “Ah, so sharp. Yet here you are, sharing cake with said nuisance. Life is full of mysteries.”

“I’m just here for the cake,” you deadpan, dusting your hands off.

For a second, his smile falters—not in hurt but in sheer disbelief. He tilts his head, studying you with an incredulous expression, and you suddenly feel like a frog under a magnifying glass.

“You really don’t get it, do you?” he says, almost to himself, his voice low but still playful.

“Get what?” you ask, genuinely confused.

Donghyuck presses his lips together, fighting back a grin. He steps closer, leaning in just enough for you to catch the faint scent of chestnut cream. “I mean, I could spell it out for you, but that might ruin the fun.”

“Spell what out?” you press, a little flustered now.

He straightens with a laugh, shaking his head. “Nothing, you airhead. Absolutely nothing. Is your head full of cotton candy, by any chance?”

You narrow your eyes at him, but before you can respond, he’s already pulling his chair back, resuming his seat with a sigh.

“Mont Blanc, Marble Eclipse, and Tiramisu on the first date,” he states, deep in thought. “Maybe Matcha Lemon, Lavender Peach, and White Chocolate on the second… Perhaps a Red Velvet and a Strawberry Shortcake before you realize I literally own this place?”

You feel the heat intensify on your cheeks. You almost miss the last part, clouded by the implications of the rest of his words. He… wants to go on more dates with you? Was this a date all along? You’ve been swindled into having fun with a man somehow. He even knows the ins and outs of a baker’s life. And he’s charming in an oddball sort of way. You shouldn’t be feeling solidarity with this weirdo. But then again, somehow, his laugh is very… endearing. 

Wait a minute.

“You- you really own the place?!” A scream dies in your throat.

Donghyuck looks positively taken aback. “So you actually weren’t aware?!”

“What do you mean? How the hell am I supposed to know?! You described yourself as a connoisseur of pastries. I thought you were some kind of freelance failure so I didn’t pry!”

“Excuse me?!”

“Well, either that or you’re unbelievably rich. But then you don’t look it. Your sleeves have flour and oil stains on them, and your shoes are all dusty too, and there’s gold flakes in your hair—okay, how did I miss this?”

“Geez, way to judge someone by their looks. I’m not taking that from the local tart snatcher.”

The retort barely registers because your brain is too busy replaying the words “I own this place.” The realization hits, and before you can think better of it, the chair screeches back as you bolt upright.

“Wait, where are you—” Donghyuck’s voice is cut off by your shrill, mortified “Bye!” as you make a beeline for the door, leaving behind a very startled staff and a half-empty tray of cakes. Immediately after your exit, you let out a shriek. 

What the hell are you doing?!

Your face burns as you speed-walk down the street, each step punctuated by the memory of your impulsive retreat. You must have cast your senses away at that moment, like some wide-eyed fool in a fairy tale, almost charmed by that silly man and his absurd little quirks. It’s not your fault, of course—it’s his, with his flour-dusted sleeves, that stupidly endearing laugh, and the way he talked about pastries like they were a love language. What was wrong with him?! you think, conveniently ignoring the fact that it was your awkwardness and runaway theatrics that had caused the scene. You’d blame it on sugar overload if it weren’t for the nagging realization that maybe—just maybe—he’d gotten under your skin, and the fact that you deserved it.

. . .

You hadn’t expected to hear from him again. Not after your embarrassing getaway. But three days later, you’re staring at an email with the subject line: "Notice of Legal Action for Unauthorized Sampling."

You open it with trembling fingers, only to find what can only be described as the world’s most dramatic—and definitely fake—lawsuit. 

Your jaw drops as you scroll through the email. He’d even attached a fake case number: #CAKE-404-NO-FUN.

The body of the email was littered with ridiculous legalese. Phrases like "egregious acts of confectionery negligence" and "failure to properly appreciate artisanal craftsmanship" were scattered between absurdly specific accusations.

There is a diagram. An actual diagram. Arrows pointing to "Exhibit A" (the Mont Blanc) and "Exhibit B" (the empty spot on the tray), annotated with notes like "victim of hasty consumption" and "left to fend for itself."

And then, at the very bottom, there it was—the pièce de résistance:

“This suit may be settled by one (1) heartfelt apology and one (1) coffee date at the aforementioned bakery. Should you require legal counsel, I suggest bringing your A-game. I am, after all, a connoisseur of arguments… and pastries. 😉”

You groan, head thunking against the back of your chair. The audacity. The drama. The fuckass emojis. 

This man is getting to you.

Your first reaction is, of course, panic. Your second? Rage. And by the time you storm into the bakery at ass o’clock before it even opens, Donghyuck is waiting for you, leaning against the counter like he owns the place. (Which he does, actually.)

He’s propped on his elbows, his posture easy and unhurried, as if he’s been expecting you. The black apron around his waist is slightly askew, and his beige T-shirt bears faint streaks of flour across the chest, a testament to an already busy morning. His fluffy brown hair is an artful mess, the kind that looks unintentional but infuriatingly perfect, with a few errant strands curling over his forehead. There’s a streak of something golden—sugar, maybe?—on his cheek, catching the light as he tilts his head to regard you with an expression that’s equal parts curious and smug.

“You’re early,” he remarks, his voice low and teasing, as though he isn’t the root of all evil.

“You think this is funny?” you demand, shoving your phone in his face.

Donghyuck grins, unbothered. “Hilarious, actually. Did it get your attention?”

“You can’t just send someone a fake legal notice!”

“Worked, didn’t it?” He shrugs, leaning back with infuriating calmness. “Besides, you owed me an explanation for your Houdini act. You know, poor Kimi had to clear your tray. She almost cried.”

“She did not!”

As if on cue, Kimi pokes her head out of the kitchen. “Oh, she absolutely did. It was tragic,” she deadpans before ducking back in.

You groan, feeling your cheeks grow hotter by the second. “You’re unbelievable.”

Donghyuck leans back, smug as ever, and gestures to the email still open on your phone. “Unbelievable or resourceful? Let’s review: I sent a single, harmless message—full of creativity and wit, I might add—and look where we are.”

“At me wanting to strangle you?”

“At you running right to me,” he corrects, his grin widening. “What, were you worried?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you snap. “I’m here because—” 

You stop, realizing you don’t have a decent answer. “I didn’t want to give you the satisfaction of thinking I took you seriously.”

“Oh, you absolutely took me seriously.” He nods sagely. “I saw the panic in your eyes. Admit it: for a second, you thought you were going to have to pay me a hundred grand or grovel at my feet.”

“I- ugh- fuck you!” is all you can muster, stepping forward without thinking.

He mirrors your movement, the space between you shrinking by degrees. 

“But seriously, you ghosted me, and I had to get creative. What the hell was I supposed to do? I figured the legal drama might get my point across.”

“What point?”

“That I wanted to see you again.” The words come out so easily, so matter-of-fact, you don’t know how to respond. When you finally glance up, he’s watching you closely, his expression uncharacteristically sincere.

“Just because you’re all cute and covered in flour like the star of some indie chef movie doesn’t mean you get to toy with me.”

“Ha! You’re presumptuous—despite all the fine details on me you seem to observe.” He leans in. “But guess what, I’m a greedy bastard that loves attention. So, look closer.”

And you look anywhere but his lips, too pink and too plush, as your face grows hotter than a convection oven on broil.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you manage, staring resolutely at the display of cakes. “That hardly counts as details.”

“Details,” he echoes, his grin growing wider. “Like the way I look at you?”

“You’re just a flirt,” you mutter.

He gasps, mock-offended, and gestures dramatically to the kitchen. “Kimi, did you hear that? I’m just a flirt!”

“You said it, not me,” Kimi calls back without missing a beat.

You laugh despite yourself, the sound surprising you. And Donghyuck doesn’t miss it. His gaze softens, the teasing edge in his voice dropping slightly. “There it is. I knew you could laugh without running away.”

You roll your eyes. “Don’t get used to it.”

“Too late.”

For a moment, the air shifts, the humor giving way to something quieter. Donghyuck’s gaze lingers—not on your awkward posture or flushed cheeks, but on you, as though trying to piece together something he doesn’t quite understand.

“What?” you finally ask, defensive.

“Nothing.” He shakes his head, but there’s a small, genuine smile now. “Just... you’re such a fidgety person.”

“Are you trying to shell out an insult?”

“No, I mean, I always see you scuttling here and there. Always on the move. Always observing, but never stopping long enough to be seen. You just… don’t seem like someone who takes much time for yourself.”

You blink, caught off guard. He tilts his head, like he’s trying to figure out if he’s crossed a line.

“I’m wrong?” he asks, almost sheepishly.

“I—” You pause, unsure of how to respond. “You’re nosy, that’s what you are.”

“That’s a yes,” he decides, grinning again.

Donghyuck chuckles, leaning just a little closer, his warm brown eyes locking onto yours. “Tell you what,” he says, his voice dropping to a murmur, “I’ll prove I’m not just nosy. Let me take you out. Somewhere you don’t have to bolt out the door halfway through.”

“You think I’d agree to that?” you retort, though your words lack bite. The proximity is doing something to your brain, and you’re acutely aware of how close he’s leaned in.

His grin is confident and infuriating. “I think you’d be curious enough to say yes.”

Your breath hitches as you realize how little space is left between the two of you, your noses almost brushing. “Woah,” you whisper, trying to play it off, “my mommy warned me about boys like you. All up close and personal with flour in their hair.”

He raises a brow, unrepentant. “Smart woman. But she didn’t tell you we’re pretty good at first dates, did she?”

You can’t help the laugh that escapes, soft but genuine. “Fine,” you say, straightening up and taking a step back before your pulse betrays you further. “But you’re paying. And no weird cakes this time.”

“Deal,” he replies, his smile softer now, more sincere.

And for a moment, you believe it—not just the act, not just the cakes and the banter, but the idea that maybe, somehow, this strange, sugar-dusted series of events has led to something real.

. . .

r/AmITheAsshole

u/YeastMode6969 • 16h

UPDATE: I faked my engagement for free cake samples then got sued after I ran away. AIO?

Fine, you guys were right. We’re dating now. Let’s just say we’ve been filling my cream puffs lately  🫠

Edit: I also got the Mont Blanc recipe!!

⥣ 7.7k ⥥ 3,297 Comments

kimikakes • 13h

KIMI HERE, REPORTING LIVE FROM THE SCENE: they literally argued over frosting consistency for half an hour yesterday. This relationship is built on chaos and croissants.

➥ Reply ⥣ 7.1k ⥥

bun_theory0222 • 2h

Hellooo where are the recipes. Priorities, OP :/

➥ Reply ⥣ 4.1k ⥥

lil_sugar_daddy0813 • 1h

man i was betting on donghyuck dying alone i dont wanna lose my $20

➥ Reply ⥣ 1.3k ⥥

muffinbutdrama1122 • 1h Give me your money NYEOW ➥ Reply ⥣ 1.7k ⥥

soggywaffle0205 • 6m why are you suddenly a furry ➥ Reply ⥣ 1.1k ⥥

muffinbutdrama1122 • 1h pays the bills ➥ Reply ⥣ 2.7k ⥥

[inbabylontheywept]

Weird Grandpa Dale Story #1

The day started with me digging up cactus. Grandpa Dale had a weird beef with cactuses, bad enough to pay me 10 cents for every pound I turned in. Looking back at it, I think they offended him because they could exist without his consent: They didn't need his water, they didn't need his fertilizer, and they certainly didn't need his permission. 

And that, he simply could not abide. 

Grandpa Dale had been doing something weird that whole morning. I knew because I'd been able to watch him since sunrise. Every time I took a break from digging cactus to look back at the house, I saw him doing something with the gopher holes. 

That made me nervous. Things never went well when he started messing with the gophers.  Earlier that month he'd tried gassing them out, and all he got from that effort was nasty looking blisters up both arms. He almost never complained about anything, but he griped all day about how bad those blisters hurt. When his wife suggested that he go to the hospital he said No, what am I gonna tell them? That my trench got overrun? They wouldn't buy that. They'd think I was cooking meth. 

Which was funny to hear, but also, true, and also, enough for me to know better than to get involved in future gopher battles. 

Which is to admit that I did get involved. But I should've known better. A few hours in, he invited me over, gave me a cold soda, and showed me what he had set up: Two camping chairs, a wicked sharp shovel, a car battery, and a long length of copper wire leading to a pit he'd dug in the middle of the yard. Told me that if I stayed a bit and took a break, cooled down there with a soda in the shade, I'd see something amazing. I asked him if there was even a chance I could get hurt by this "something amazing", and he said "no," which I knew was a bald faced lie. But I believed him because I wanted to believe him. Because I wanted to know what he'd done, and I wanted to sit there in the shade with my grandpa. I also figured, hey, maybe getting gassed taught him a lesson. 

(Never, ever assume that the kind of person willing to break out chemical weapons against gophers is capable of being taught a lesson.) 

So I sat down in my chair and he beamed at that. He loved having an audience. Then I watched him lean forward and tap the ends of the wire against the battery terminals.

And that's where everything went wrong.  

The first thing that hit me was the yard itself. Little bits of sand and grit flying fast enough to hit my skin and bite. It took a year and change for all the little bits to work their way out. But I didn't even feel it at the time, because of what happened after. 

I genuinely think he'd imagined the gophers getting launched out of the holes, disoriented but alive. I think that shovel was there to finish them off afterwards. Which also would've been traumatizing, but probably less so than watching each of those cute little gopher holes projectile vomit bloody piles of tattered critter all over the lawn. 

Which, spoiler alert, is exactly what happened. The sky fell down, and the ground flew up, and the gophers found themselves with nowhere to go. So they did the next best thing and went a little bit everywhere.

I don't think it was actually silent afterwards, but I couldn't hear shit. There was just this long, ringing period of us looking at each other, then the meat piles, then the lawn crater, then the big buckled section of yard that looked oddly like Rockies just behind us, then back to each other. 

I think I did that two or three times before I felt my shoulders start to shake a little. I was crying. Felt weird to cry and not be able to hear it. Like a tic almost, or the way your body seizes up right before you puke. 

And then I looked at his face, and I saw him mouth a single soundless word: 

Shit.

[junicult]

first, i am in absolute love with all ur posts and works—second, could you do headcannons of the bachelors when they get jealous?? could be smutty or sweet literally anything u give is amazing

!! how the bachelors act when they’re jealous

contains ; sfw! established relationships! farmer is noted to be outgoing / social. mostly fluff, but not intended to be fluff. majority of these take place in the city.

note ; i do love man that can get a little jealous. anon i love u ur gassing me up🤭

harvey.

- overthinker ™️

- he’s his own devil on his shoulder.

- no matter what, he’s secure in his relationship. he knows you love him, and he knows you’d never even think about cheating on him.

- he literally remembers every single compliment you give him. he’ll just randomly think of when you told him his mustache looked especially neat one day like months ago, and smile.

- but there’s always that little shadow of doubt that appears every now and then.

- it more commonly happens after you’ve had an argument of some sort.

- he’s not insecure in your very committed relationship by any means, i’m not saying that any little argument he’ll just believe you don’t love him anymore & want to be with someone else.

- i’m just saying there’s always that thought that crosses his mind, and manifests quicker then he can push it away.

- i feel like one of his worst habits is that he needs to be reassured quite often.

- doesn’t have to be major, just an “i love you” will suffice.

- so if you don’t clear the air right away, he accidentally gives himself time to 🥁🥁🥁overthink!

- “i need to finish working, we’ll talk about this later.”and you close the door before you have time to resolve it—it leaves those few hours to be a living hell for him.

- the jealousy doesn’t creep in unless he actually sees it, or hears about it.

- he’s too mature for that.

- his mind doesn’t automatically go to, “she’s cheating on me!” when you talk about another guy or whatever.

- it’s more or less if he hears about him a little too much, or sees the two of you alone together.

- but knowing him he’ll never bring it up.

- he’ll bottle it inside if he feels it’s not worth it.

- or unless he’s given an opportunity 😊

- you’re laughing, wrapping up your day as usual, just talking to each other, ���oh, and he made the funniest joke the other day—“

- “he is funny. i didn’t realize you two were friends,” he laughs stiffly, keeping his eyes on the plate of food in front of him.

- “yeah, well, he needed advice on a couple plants he has in his shack, so i helped him out a bit.” you smile innocently, because it really was innocent.

- he pauses mid chew, shooting you a glance.

- “i see…you’ve been in his house?” he clears his throat a little.

- you just blink at him for a second, before you have to purse a smile. “only a couple times. haven’t you?”

- “…yeah. i guess so.”

- u could practically see the thoughts in his mind. he really does go to the worst case scenario.

- you giggle, gently kicking his shoe under the table and leaning in to hold his hand. “aw, don’t do that. you know you’re the only one for me.”

- now he’s able to look at you, even smile. because really that’s how easy it is to clear the air for him.

- well, he might need a kiss or two.

sam.

- ignorance is bliss for this man.

- the longer you two have been together, the more and more oblivious he gets to affection from others.

- especially when u live in a town as small as this one😭😭

- if you two went out of town or something, let’s say for one of his concerts—he literally wouldn’t think the girl that’s flirting so hard with him was even flirting with him. he’d just think she was a rly big fan LMFAO

- which has been the cause of a couple arguments between you two dare i say, but he means well.

- he’s the most secure out of all of them i think.

- when you’re in town, his mind just kinda goes to ‘everyone knows we’re in love so they wouldn’t even try.’

- and he knows you wouldn’t either. it’s not even something he has worried about before.

- he really doesn’t get jealous i think. it’s so unbelievably rare it’d get to the point where he’s actually upset about it.

- he’ll doesn’t think twice when he leaves you and sebastian alone together.

- i think it’s really sweet how much he believes in the two of you.

- i feel like the only reason he’d ever get jealous, is because he finds you’re spending more time with someone else besides him.

- not even a another guy, just a person😭

- like let’s say you’ve just been around vincent a lot, especially since he’s grown so much of a liking to you.

- so every time you come over to see sam, you end up spending time with his little brother instead.

- not even intentionally, it’s just cute to see how excited he gets to see you, and you like hearing the things he has to say,

- “and penny’s teaching us cursive! cool, right?” he grins, showing his handwriting that definitely isn’t intelligible but you still smile and congratulate him instead.

- so you just end up preoccupied with vincent more then you even realize.

- because of this, you entirely miss the way sam’s all uncharacteristically quiet beside you, just watching his little brother take up your time together.

- although he loves to see how close you are with his family, he’s still pouting.

- it isn’t until vincent has to leave for school, or something other, when he’s finally able to get your attention.

- “so you finally have time for me, i see.” he hums, pettiness dripping from his tongue, arms crossed.

- you furrow your brows, mimicking his stance. “i’m sorry?”

- sam isn’t the type to pick a fight out of nowhere. i feel like, for him to actually get angry or upset at something, it’s have to be serious.

- and this just wasn’t serious enough for him to encourage a bad mood, so he merely gives you a side-eyed glance before he unfolds his arms.

- “you know…you’ve just…been a little busy…’tis all…” he looks down at his shirt like he’s all embarrassed.

- “please, are you upset that i was spending time with your brother?”

- “…well not anymore…”

- he can get over it fast. promise you, within minutes he’s all over you, kissing and hugging you like nothing even happened.

shane.

- 😭😭

- similar to harvey in the sense that, he needs to be reassured a lot. (bold and italicized)

- tell him, kiss him, hug him, whatever it is. multiple times a day.

- he trusts you, but he doesn’t trust very many else.

- he knows the other bachelors let out a literal sigh on ur wedding day. he knows they all want u🤷‍♀️

- which, for the most part, makes him feel soooo cocky. he likes knowing the woman everyone wants fell in love with him of all people.

- during festivals, and gatherings at the saloon, he pretty much likes to stay attached at the hip.

- wraps his arm around you, resting at your waist while you’re both having two separate conversations (more like you’re talking and he’s just beside you).

- he gets a little clingy around the guys that he knows are into you.

- he’s gotta show them what they don’t have🤷‍♀️

- it’s kinda funny cus he’s not being subtle at all, and instead of outright bringing it up in front of other people, you’ll give him a slow glance, and he’s just smirking.

- that’s only because you’ve totally brought it up before in private.

- “you know we’re married, right?” you snort, going to tug on the pendant around his neck.

- “hey, that doesn’t stop some guys.”

- “well it stops me. i fell in love with you, not them.”

- he grins when he hears that. “s’true. but you’ve gotta see the way they look at you—“

- “and let them look. doesn’t mean they’ll get anything out of it.”

- he has to admit, he does kinda like knowing they can look but can’t touch—and he gets to do both.

- when he gets jealous, it’s all because someone is spending a little too much time talking to you.

- he’s a tad fragile.

- when he sees one of the guys talking with you, he’ll glance over a couple times, making sure the body language stays casual n stuff.

- last thing he’d want (for you) is to cause a scene.

- but if he were to look over, and you were still talking with the same guy for a while, that’s when he’d start to frown.

- what makes alex so interesting? what’s he got to talk about that’s better then shane?

- he is soooo fucking petty. to the guy that was hitting on you, and you.

- “miss your boyfriend?” after you’ve left and are you’re walking home.

- your expression turns to disgust. “what?”

- “oh i dunno…just, you and alex seemed to have a lot to talk about.”

- “don’t start.”

- “you’re being awfully dismissive—“

- those are the fights you have.

- immature😭😭

- if the argument gets heated, you’ll both probably limit each other to the silent treatment 💀💀

- no matter how stubborn he is, though, he hates not being able to joke with you more.

- eventually he’ll find it unbearable, and he’ll come up to you with a look only he gives you.

- eyes soft, pressing a kiss to your shoulder and resting his chin. “i’m sorry baby, i know i can get pretty jealous. i’ll work on it, okay?”

- he knows you’ve forgiven him when you turn to look him in the eyes, smiling at his affections. “good. you don’t have any reason to be, i promise.”

- and he’s suddenly the luckiest man in the world when you cup your hand around his jaw, pulling him in for a kiss he’ll never fail to melt into.

sebastian.

- he gets jealous. lol.

- it’s definitely his worst trait, because yes he trusts you, but he still might think you’re doing the wrong.

- you’re way more social then him, that’s a fact.

- you talk to people every day that he hasn’t even spoken with in months. he’s always just a little on edge.

- that cloud of doubt always tells him you can do better, he doesn’t deserve you. but you’re good at reassuring him, so it makes it easier.

- not to say his jealousy doesn’t get a little annoying.

- at the start of your relationship, it probably made u roll ur eyes a little lmfao

- ur casually talking to sam, literally just listening to whatever he’s rambling about, and sebastian’s nearby with a frown on his face.

- “what were you guys talking about? should i be worried?” he crosses his arms when you walk towards him.

- as if sam would even think to do that to his best friend.

- honestly, the best way to get him to realize it would be to lay it on thick.

- “stop it, your overthinking is exhausting the both of us. you need to get better with that, or this won’t work out.”

- he might be a little upset at your bluntness, but pretty soon he’ll come around. you have a point, and he realizes that.

- so afterwards he’ll tone it down.

- he still has moments where he gets a little tense if you’re giving guys gifts, or talking to them for a while during festivals and things—but he knows it’s just your personality.

- you’re not even flirting, and if they would, you knew to shut it down.

- once he got better at controlling it, you guys thrived. cus really, that’s the only thing you guys would argue about.

- i don’t think he likes pda.

- like, at all.

- but you guys have a little routine when you’re in public to reassure him.

- if he’s standing next to you, not mingling because his social battery is out, & he doesn’t want to interrupt the conversation you’re having,

- it’s with a guy, but he’s been with you long enough to not get upset over the little things,

- you’ll just reach out, and give his hand a little squeeze to reassure him you’re still with him (if that makes sense.)

- like, yes you’re focused on the conversation you’re having, but you’re still thinking about him in the back of your mind, so you want to silently show that everything’s fine.

- after years of dating, and when ur married, his thoughts of jealousy pretty much go away.

- despite you being the only person he spends time with on a daily basis, he trusts you at this point. he should’ve from the very beginning, and he definitely feels guilty about it every once in a while.

- but now he understands you don’t give him any reason to feel jealous.

- just talking to someone doesn’t mean you’re intending to cheat on ur partner.

- he’s a bit stubborn, although i think it’s sweet to think he’s given you a heartfelt apology about it.

- “i’m sorry for not trusting you. i know you love me, and i love you too.” with a little kiss on the cheek.

alex.

- he doesn’t really get jealous.

-…if anything, i feel like it’d be the other way around.

- his ego is skyrocketed😭😭 he thinks very highly of himself, and yes that’s a good thing, but omfg can it be so annoying.

- don’t get me wrong, he thinks very highly of you as well. sometimes he thinks you’re too good for him, honestly.

- but when you’re both out together, he kinda loves when he looks over to see some guy trying to talk you up.

- he’s not insecure in the slightest. he’d be devastated if you did cheat, but with his ego he just kinda thinks it’d be your loss LMFAO.

- what makes it even better is when you have a little scowl on your face, leaning away and dismissing the stranger to go find him.

- don’t get me wrong tho, he’ll always step in if he sees someone overstepping boundaries.

- anyways, when it comes to whenever you guys are together in town, he’s touchy.

- he does not fear pda😭😭

- he’ll be all up on you if you’d let him. he loves letting everyone know you’re in a relationship.

- so he’s not even given any opportunity to get jealous.

- i’m serious. if you guys go out somewhere together, for example a gridball game he invited you to, he’s not leaving your side in general.

- but while you’re still trying to find your seats, you end up sitting next to a guy that’s clearly checking you out.

- “is this seat taken?” you ask, purely out of politeness before sitting down, and it’s obvious that this stranger is excited you’re sitting next to him.

- and if alex sees the small smirk on his face, he’s instantly swinging his arm around you, speaking loud enough to turn a couple heads, “these are great seats babe! we can see everything!” and pressing a kiss to your temple.

- throughout the rest of the game, the stranger keeps finding chances to say a few things to you, all of which has alex involving himself in your conversations.

- trust me, he’s making a grand show of how you’re not single.

- leaving his arm around your shoulders the entire time, kissing you and your cheek.

- and after the team scores, he’s pulling you close after cheering, speaking loud enough for the guy to hear, “you’re their good luck charm, baby!”

- he’s full of one liners like that the entire night, each of which make you roll your eyes.

- “i know what you’re doing,” you tease, despite not doing / saying anything to stop him cus…honestly it’s so attractive how much he’ll fight for you.

- he just smirks, tossing a couple pieces of popcorn into his mouth, “oh, you love it.”

- and that you do.

elliott.

- he’s also not the type to get jealous.

- or well, he doesn’t let it get to his head.

- his communication is too perfect.

- he’s not fragile enough to pout if you’re just talking to another guy. i think what he likes most about you is how welcoming you are.

- you’ll talk to anyone and everyone, and he definitely admires that about you.

- which is why i don’t think he’d think twice if he saw you talking with one of the other bachelors. you’re just striking conversation, getting to know everyone a little more.

- even then, you always tell him about it when you’re recapping your day.

- “oh, and then i dropped off one of the items shane requested today, got a nice chunk of change for that—“

- there’s nothing he needs to be jealous about. you’ve made it clear, and so has he.

- now being protective…that’s another story.

- he’s the perfect amount of protective.

- in general, he doesn’t look very intimidating. but he tries his best to make you feel secure if you’re out in public, and a guy keeps hitting on you.

- he knows you can handle yourself…i mean, ur the one who carries around a sword the majority of the time lmfao.

- but if it ever gets to the point where you’ve repeatedly shown disinterest, yet the guy won’t let up, he can step in.

- he’s so casual about it, swooping in by your side, sliding his arm around your waist.

- “you ready to go, honey? i called us a cab,” and he won’t even address the guy at all.

- “hey, we were in the middle of a conversation?”

- then he turns to him, gives him a bored once-over, before shrugging, “i don’t really think she wanted to talk to you, anyways.”

- whether the guy wants to press further is his own problem, because he’s hardly paying attention to what he’s trying to say.

- once you’re out of earshot and he’s finally let you go, he tugs you closer.

- “i’m glad you’re okay. sorry he wouldn’t leave you alone.”

- he’s so sweet you can’t help but smile, “don’t worry about it. thank you.” and he’s kissing your cheek, before actually hailing a cab.

[k3n-dyll]

Disclaimer before you try to fight me: I am not defending Jinx, insinuating that Vi is in any way perfect, or calling Caitlyn a horrible irredeemable character. I am just essentially thinking, and putting my incoming thoughts on tumblr.com

I think Cait is the perfect example of how privileged people will fall into fascist ideologies the second they go through even an ounce of what people from the oppressed class have had to go through.

It's so clear in a lot of the language that Cait uses that that bias in season 1 never actually went away, and the attack on Piltover and the death of her mom only confirmed to her grieving mind that no one in Zaun is good, justifying in her head why gassing the city (hurting many people that had nothing to do with it in the process) was a good idea. She views the people of Zaun as collateral damage at best and not human at the worst, and I think that the incident with her being willing to risk shooting the child who wanted to protect Jinx is a big example of that as well.

And yes! I'm sorry it is getting a little bit hard to like her okay damn, yes I understand that she's #goingthroughit and I'm not taking that away from her. Privileged white women(correction she is asian, i forgot lmao still privelaged and rich and a cop tho!) are always a little hard to like and I'm not sorry for saying it out loud

[vibratingskull]

Yandere Thrawn x F!reader chapter 15

Yandere AU - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14

Tags : Yandere behaviors (duh), obsession, memories chapter, poison

“Hum... Sir?” 

Thrawn turned his head from the holographic projections of his meditation room, focused on his reflections. “Yes, Senior Captain (F/n)?” He asked. “I come to you about your latest strategy you presented us for the Pirates of the region.”, “Is something bothering you perhaps?” He turned his head back to the projection mentally reviewing your profile in his head. 

(Y/n) (F/n), (age), Senior Captain and former student of the Imperial Academy. This is your first post on the Chimaera.  

Very decent record, successful missions all around, obedient and respectably competent, you had a lot of potential but were more of a crude rock than a chiseled diamond yet. You newly arrived on his ship and he couldn’t really say he knew you like Karyn Faro or Hammerly yet, he needed to study your profile in depth and put your skills to the test to know what you were truly made of. 

“No, I mean yes. A bit.” You pressed your datapad to your chest in a self-soothing motion. You were embarrassed to bother your Grand Admiral in his special chamber for something you judged might be inconsequential. 

“Speak your mind.” He cut the holos, turning to face you, hands clasped behind his back. You gulped, looking at the screen of the pad before looking back at him. 

You were shorter than him like 99% of the population, but you evidently trained in the gym and dojo of the ISD. You were not lacking charms, this could obtain you good information in an intelligence career, maybe he should help orient you in this direction if your intelligence passes the tests.  

“I just wanted to make sure you were aware of the soon-applicable A49BK directive in the region.” You asked in one breath. 

 Politics 

 You came to talk to him about Politic, his greatest foe. He internally sighed before responding, “No, I am not aware of that directive.”. You nodded, “I thought so, I have a cousin working for the local government and she loves to vent to me, I learned about that new directive not long ago and I think we could take advantage of it in battle.” You tapped on your screen and his own datapad let off a little ‘ping’. He grabbed it to discover a lengthy text about atmospheric gasses and heavy metals market laws and political negotiations already giving him headaches. “I shall look at it, Lieutenant.”  

Well, this will be a sleepless night again spent trying to understand political intents... 

“I, huh...” you started before shutting up. “Yes?” He invited. “I made you a summary where I highlighted the most interesting aspect and what we should pay attention to.” You let him know, “I know those texts take a lot of time to read.” 

He squinted at you, understanding that you knew. Somehow you picked up on his ineptitude in politics and acted in consequence while having the grace and tact to pretend it was for gaining time and not because of his incompetence. 

You would go far with that attitude if only you were a little bit more assertive! He noted that point of interest in a corner of his well-organized mind. 

“Ah, yes.” He almost chuckled but allowed himself a tight grin, “I thank you for your consideration of my time, Lieutenant.” He nodded approvingly. “It is quite precious for all of us.” You nodded again, “Well I won’t bother you much Grand Admiral, if you allow me I will take my leave.” You took a step back. 

“Lieutenant.” He called you back. ”Yes?” You asked, a bit worried you failed in etiquette or something, “The summary.”, “The...? Oh! Sorry.” You immediately typed and sent him your own conclusions on the lengthy text with an embarrassed chuckle 

Your face turned bright red in his infrared vision 

“Thank you, Lieutenant (F/n). I wish you a pleasant night.”, “You t- I mean thank you Grand Admiral, I wish you the same.” You stood to attention and walked away, your steps resonating in the deafening silence of the meditation chamber. 

Thrawn remained still, observing the closed door you just went through for one second more before returning to his art pieces. 

Senior Captain (Y/n) (F/n). 

(Y/n)... 

He remembered you catching his attention when you entered the Chimaera. 

He needed to look a bit closer at you, he thought to himself, maybe something could come of your talents... 

-------------- 

Thrawn walked into the ballroom with hidden... Weariness. Galas... Parties filled to the brim with politicians and snakes. Sutble political maneuvers and traps all around, ready for him to trip and fall... No matter how hard he tried he could never grasp the concept of those traps and tactics, rendering him as defenseless as a snow starling on the ground. What was he even doing here? 

"Do you remember our target, Senior Captain (F/n)?" He whispered in his earpiece. "Perfectly!" You responded. He mentally nodded, approving of your attitude. Motivated while remaining discreet and focused. 

He observed the room full of people, all the colors, the sounds, the smells, the faces, the masks, taking in all of these pieces of information and classifying the data in his mind, searching for your target. 

A renegade Senator sided with the Rebellion. Intelligence said that they were cruising the different projects of the Empire as a patron to send the information to the Rebels and may or may not have participated in some recent assassinations of officers and parliamentarians.  Tarkin came to the conclusion that Thrawn with his Tie defender project and his inaptitude in politics would make for the perfect bait. 

Thrawn agreed. For a split second, he suspected Tarkin hoped for him to act out at what was practically an insult to his rank, but the facts are the facts, he is a newbie in politics with a large project for the Empire: he was the perfect victim for the renegade, or renegades?  

Thrawn had the suspicion they could be a whole group to cover each other’s traces. How would they have evaded the ISB agents until now if they did not?  

Thrawn chose his team carefully and obviously, he chose you. He wanted to test you as a fresh new Lieutenant and assert your skills once and for all, maybe you would finally leave his mind and leave him in peace once he knew who he had in front of him. 

Because you were haunting him... Something he did not understand and that worried him. Why should he worry about you? Why were you at the forefront of his mind as soon as he woke up? Why was he searching for your face each time he entered a room? 

Why would you not leave him in peace, to his tactics and arts? 

Why would you make his heart beat faster when he entered your vicinity? He had the occasion to speak a bit with you, you were intelligent and charming, but he did not notice an innate talent he could help carve into a diamond of excellence. 

You were good, but simply average, as a lot of other people were. This is not a bad thing in itself, any genius needs an executant under them and ships are full of good officers who are also average in other ways.  

So why? Why are you taking more and more place in his mind? He must have noticed something about you! He must have! Since he met you you were constantly in the periphery of his mind, simply in a backseat, but since you came to give him that summary things took a drastic turn. 

That summary was excellent, it helped him grasp some of the most difficult concepts of that new law that were written only to benefit the Senators of the region. The planet was full of a native magnetic metal highly sensible to the percentage of acid in the atmosphere a full-on battle could modify. This rare metal was the new prized possession of Director Krennic for the Death star project and Thrawn would have ended up in trouble if you did not bring it to his attention in time. He had to dig deep to find those mines because the Empire was secretly mining this world dry out of its resources but Thrawn also chose this planet as a trap for his next campaign against the rebels. 

Thrawn knew that if something happened to those mines or this metal, he would get  

executed by the Emperor, plain and simple. 

So he modified his plan accordingly, your alertness allowing him to avoid a complete fiasco and simply save his life. He could plan for no ship to crash on the mines at the planet's surface, but the excessive use of the Empire's arsenal would modify the acid percentage in the atmosphere and corrupt the precious metal. 

Without you, all his plans would have been for nothing and he would have lost everything for good because of another imperial secret kept from him. 

He came to think about you a lot lately, wandering what was your opinions on various subjects and his tactics   

His... personhood 

But why? 

Why should he worry about your opinion of his personhood? You were a Lieutenant Commander and him a Grand Admiral, the roles were clear cut, you were here to obey and carry his orders and he was here to lead. Your repsective opinions of each other should not matter in the slightest as your loyalty to the empire should prevail everything else! 

But he sometimes wanted to ask your opinion still. He could not help but gently smile at you when you came back successful from a mission, complimenting your success or simply gazing fondly at you from afar. 

This was so out of character for him, he felt... Vulnerable in your presence. Like you could shoot him down with your gaze... 

He felt his heartbeat quickening with your gaze on him, goosebumps appearing on his skin when he caught a glimpse of you... 

This was so new, this was thrilling but also highly concerning! 

He could not let one individual take over his mind like that, he must strengthen his resolve even more��! 

He shook his head internally as he advanced into the ballroom, his glass of champagne strategically half empty, observing the faces around him. He did not have to search for long, as the renegade came by themself to him, enticed by the juicy prey he represented with an affable smile and words of pleasantries. They kept serving him more alcohol, surely in the hope of making him drunk and spilling his secrets or assassinating him 

 A chance Chiss' organisms are way stronger than humans' 

“Lieutenant, they are inviting me to the gardens behind the buildings." He warned  

discreetly. "This is a secluded area, Sir. This is dangerous, I'll come right away." You promised in a breath. "I'll warn the rest of the team patrolling the building." 

Thrawn followed the renegade with apparent detachment but very cautious of each of there movements. When the renegade offered him to take the lead to enter the rose garden, Thrawn knew they would try something 

You were simply quicker in that instant 

"SIR!" He heard when he passed by the Senator, followed by hurried steps in heels. When Thrawn spun around toward his enemy you were already on them, trying to make them let go of a syringe destined to him. He lost no time and joined the conflict, but not in time. 

To not have to fight you both at the same time, they jabbed you instead. Entangled in your dress and heels you could not evade in time and yelped in pain as the needle pierced your skin. 

You staggered backward as Thrawn reached the Senator to enter a physical struggle with them, hearing the rest of the team sprinting to reach you. With a powerful punch, Thrawn sent them to the ground for good. After handcuffing them he turned to you, discovering you lying on the ground, inert, as your general body heat was starting to fall down. 

"She needs medical attention quickly, the syringe was full of poison." The medic he 

chose declared, already initiating CPR 

Thrawn remained still, silent 

In shock 

You were poisoned? You... Could die? For a reason beyond him, Thrawn felt immensely powerless and guilty. He failed to protect you like a Grand Admiral should, like a Chiss should 

Like he should 

Strangely, he felt like he was observing himself observing the situation, still like a statue, mute like a fish. 

Disoriented 

Useless 

 Angry 

No 

You will not die 

He refused categorically! He has yet to find why you were haunting him like that, you cannot invite yourself into his mind and disappear the first chance you get leaving him behind confused. 

He will not allow it! As long as your mystery remained uncovered, he would not allow you to leave him like that!

You risked your life to save him, he must do everything in his power to save you.  

He can't lose you like that! He can't lose you! 

Why did he feel like that was still unknown to him, he just knew that is life would be for the worse if you disappeared 

He won't allow you to leave him behind 

He forbids you 

------------------------------------------------------- 

Thrawn opens his eyes in the dark bedroom, wondering why he just woke up. He hears you whine in his arms, surely a prey to another nightmare of your tormentors. 

He tenderly smiles as he hugs you tighter, pressing your body tight against his taller, broader one with delight. You seem to calm down in his embrace, your nervous whimpers subsiding to silence until he can only hear your deep appeased breath. 

He sighs of satisfaction, simply happy to sleep in the same bed as you, to have you in his arms tonight again 

Almost like a couple 

He snuggles against you with glee, pressing his nose in your hair to inhale your delicious 

scent 

Simply happy 

@bluechiss @blueninjablade3 @thrawnspetgoose @twilekchiss @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching  @obbicrystaleo @leo4242564@davesrightshoe @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni @lilyalone @princesslunamoon19 @janjtje

[surelysilly]

Mr fear au but it's Danny after a... "Session"(you know what I mean) and the aftermath of that. Do Jon do aftercare or not lol

He does! In his own way. Worst bedside manner ever, essentially; not a single gentle bone in his body, but he gets,,, better? Good thing Danny's rather.... uhhh, out of it most of the time anyway.

so have a little how it started vs. how its going :P (wall of nonsense incoming, hope you enjoy these two individuals who should stay far away from each other <3)

how it started

(tldr Danny meets Scarecrow officially by helping him escape Killer Croc, who would have otherwise ripped Jon's face off. Crane then dragged him home because interesting.)

Danny thinks he might could get used to this. Nothing hurts. And even that sort of thought, sort of awareness, is a slippery one to hold. That there's anything that could exist outside of this. This being. Ah. Hm. Something — He shakes his head just a little. Nothing hurts. Not the fingers in his hair, nor the suds dripping down past his eyes. Not the deep, raw bite marks up his arm, nor the. The.  Hm.  “This is nice,” he murmurs, eyes slivers against the bright overhead light, and it really just is.  Be quiet says the hands over his head. Be still says the comb ran through his hair. Hold your breath says the water that rushes up over his ears.  “That's a funny thing to say,” Danny chuckles once the world is present again. He sniffs, and then lolls his head back a little against something soft — the light glimmers through beads of water. “Real funny.” Absolutely filthy says the hands that bend out his arms, prod the creases of bruised elbow. You will need to be clean. Danny hums. “I'll have you know,” he replies, “I took a real shower two weeks ago. That's pretty good.” That. Gets everything tilted sideways. It doesn't hurt though, the hard grip on his hair, and it's only for a moment. Probably means something. Be quiet. “Okay, okay,” Danny relents, and kind of just. Ugh. Hands pull him back up from the water, and it does actually kinda hurt that time. It got in his nose. “Okay. H-Hold my breath. Got it.” Why did you help me? Don't you know who I am? Wrinkling his nose, Danny drops his head back fully this time. Glasses glint in the shadow of a thin face.  Mm. “‘Cos.” Danny smiles. Probably. “Strawman?” It's on the tip of his tongue. So, so close. God, who knew that getting fear gassed right in the face could make everything featherlight.  Worth getting bit by a real alligator man. Danny snorts, curling up, and the water sloshes over his knees. At least it's not itchy. Be still. “Where are my clothes?” he asks muzzily, but can't be bothered to really be worried about it. Trashed. You will be given more.  “That's nice.” Nothing hurts. “Hey… can I… y'know… You kinda promised...” Later.  Easier than chasing the news. Last time Danny was clear on the other side of the city and missed out. And ended up short another forty bucks for something so lackluster compared to whatever fear toxin actually is. What are you? A meta? “Mhm,” Danny lies, and closes his eyes at the continued rough drag of a washcloth over skin. If he wasn't so terribly high this would be — “You?” No.  “Huh.”

how its going

I couldn't exactly decide on the "how it's going" because none of this will probably actually show up in the actual fic really but. Here, two missing scenes, stolen moments, that are the gist if not 100% correct :9

and, really, im bad at lab rat stuff, but I see Jon sort of like... maintaining a clinical, scientific sort of mindset with Danny. Like a legit project, where he just... tweaks stuff, tests it on Danny, and then figures it will be so much WORSE on the average person based on the data he gets from Danny. Something like that anyway.

Danny never tells him he's a 'ghost' either, and he does have limits. It's all sort of ruined from the get out, but... yeah, lol.

so it's literally just Jon giving him fear toxin (gas, injections sometimes, etc) and watching for results. Some days are more professional then others though. *cough*

(Robbing banks is also not usually something Scarecrow does, but science requires money, and a jonesing Danny gets nosy and gets hit with the security ink lmao)

With a sigh, Danny braces his arms back over the rim of the metal tub. He's all too aware of the heat, the scalding sting of the hot water bearing down on the teasing weightlessness.  This variant is. Too slow for him to enjoy. Great for whatever the hell Jon has planned for it, but not. Exactly what Danny needs to chase away the biting gnaw of a deep set ache.  Danny drops his head back when the fingers in his hair fade away, squints up at a pinched frown. “Gonna give yourself more wrinkles doin’ that,” he teases, and Jon scowls, tugs hard on a handful of wet hair. “Ow.” The man leans in, glasses glinting in reflected light. “This is not going to come off easily,” he says, pressing hard at Danny’s stained jaw with one hand. “Why did you do that?” “Better me than one of the goons,” Danny says easily, and flexes one arm, just catches the edge of dyed skin in the corner of his eye. “They got places to be. I don't.” And it's not like he actually did it on purpose. He was just curious. Who gets to say they've seen thousands of dollars in cold hard cash before? Bank jobs aren't Jon's typical speed, but needs must, obviously. That gets an unamused sneer, and Jon bends closer. Breathes over Danny's lips Don't do that again and then licks into Danny's mouth. Obediently, he opens up to the brief, hard kiss, and doesn't fight when it's taken away with another forceful yank of his hair. “Y-Yeah alright,” Danny rasps, breathless, and closes his eyes against the rumble then spray of the shower head. 

or, how its going, again

Danny truly thought he could sink no lower, but life's full of surprises like that, he guesses — to break new ground when he'd thought he'd long since hit rock bottom. “That wasn't the deal, y'know,” he says softly, and for lack of a better alternative, presses the mouthpiece of the hose to his lips and takes a deep, slow inhale. The world goes a bit fuzzier, but not enough to chase away the gnawing guilt — Danny exhales a cloud of green, resigned. “Not that I have much of a choice.” Jon hums, low and unsurprised. “No, you rather don't, do you,” he returns, and stops typing for a moment, the click of keys falling silent above Danny. The man knocks a sharp knee into the side of his head. “How does this variant compare to last quarter's?” “Meh.” Crane brackets Danny in tighter with his legs, and he squirms, uncomfortable and too warm — which is the point. “C’mon, you only just gave me this like three hours ago.” That gets an aggravated sigh, but he bows out his knees, and Danny goes limp with a sigh of his own. Another intake, then the breath released over his head.  “Don't do that,” Jon snaps, “it fogs up my glasses.” Danny mumbles a mocking repeat of his words and carefully places aside the gas handle before shoving himself up and truly into the man’s lap. With a scowl, Jon leans around to one side, but Danny matches it, pressing closer, hands finding purchase on his thighs. It stretches the leads dotted across his body to the very limits of their length, the pulsing count of Danny's heartbeat jumping with a beep on the computer behind him.

anyway, they're gay your honor.

[paradoxbeta]

de ce ai un rain world oc pe nume fat frumos please i must know (also zmeu. i see what you did there)

oh am i excited to talk about this. buckle in because it is a bit much

preemptive tldr: i have a rainworld adaptation of the făt-frumos tales where f-f stars as an overly prideful slugteen (pictured below looking moody) getting a body horror-y reality check

so! the name of this adaptation is the împărăție colony and as mentioned above its my little for-fun project based off of the original făt-frumos stories. for those who don’t know, f-f is a romanian folkloric character

some elements were changed (f-f is no longer the son of a king because there’s only one slugcat colony in this region, so i could only have a prince or a princess but not both if i wanted to keep the generic romance plot) but most were preserved, with f-f still having calul năzdrăvan (now a noble blue lizard steed inherited from his father) and with there still being the classic villains such as both balaur (infamous mutated red lizard) and zmeu (random iterator the slugcats abstracted into the Big Bad)

the story goes that the local iterator is collapsing and its bioprinters have gone haywire, so now it bleeds out nasty and highly mutagenic sludge. the local slugcat colony has not taken kindly to the deadzone and mutated fauna, but they also dont really understand what a bioprinter or hazardous chemical agent is, so they formed a mythological universe around the iterator

his name is zmeu, he’s a wretched 6 legged monster, he’s bleeding poison, he’s representative of all ill will and evil in the world, and all of his children are accursed nightmares. anything that’s been afflicted by zmeu gets the misnomer “child of zmeu” (misnomer because almost every "child of zmeu" was not born that way)

so in comes f-f: he’s the son of rege (who is again not actually the king), and rege was renowned for his incredible fighting prowess until the balaur got the best of him and left him unable to fight like he used to. f-f isn’t supposed to step up to his fathers position yet but his dad’s hand is forced, so he hastily passes on his trusted lizard (calul) and goes hey son, surprise! youre taking the mantle effective immediately

f-f eventually ends up on a mission to go slay zmeu and to find ileana, the colony leader’s daughter, who had gone missing very recently and who f-f also happens to have a fat crush on. so boldly he sets off with calul năzdrăvan

the story starts off very lighthearted and in its own head– f-f is young, rowdy, concerned with superficial things, and he’s had his ego gassed up by his colony which has its emphatic faith in him. he’s in a total fantasy world off to slay this big monster and come home as the hero with the girl, but as the story goes on, things get too real for him. balaur hunts him relentlessly and tests his grit, he sees the extent of the pollution and the environmental havoc, everything he's heard in mythos becomes less of a concept and more a frightening reality, and surviving in rainworld is just plain difficult, so his self confidence wanes. it reaches a breaking point when he eventually finds ileana, who is by now to his horror a child of zmeu

he does find his way to zmeu’s puppet chamber but it doesnt bring him any sense of completion. his only real options are to leave empty handed or to “kill” the puppet, both of which don’t solve anything... its all in all not a fun time but it teaches him some really important lessons about humility and about how small he really is in the world

its not a narratively complex or serious story and it can be cliché or even nonsensical at times, but i have a lot of fun with the characters, and im entertained by the idea of morphing a fun and shallow fantasy shindig into something frightening and slightly depressing over time

(also this ask reminded me to go back and add zmeu to the colony tag, thank you!) 

[froggo-333]

ARCANE SPOILERS

sorry this is about to be longwinded asf but is anyone else kinda disappointed with the last arc. this is mostly gonna be about vi and jinx although i think them teasing sevika stuff but her showing up like twice and not saying shit was also weird. from the start i didn't like caitvi on like a yay shipping level but i didn't mind them that much. the lesbian situationship bit in the first two acts of season 2 were funny, i actually enjoyed it cause hey girl i've def been there before, but the third act is where i really begin having issues. at the start of the season vi becomes a cop. i know she is one in league but with the story in arcane it feels a little bit of an odd choice but i digress, its coming off like she once again is shouldering the blame for jinx. she is vi's problem. she is trying to fix things. obviously this doesn't work, cait starts changing, there is the whole isha protecting jinx moment (isha's character in gen), vi crashes out. the build up so far feels like vi and jinx are going to reconcile at least somewhat to have an understanding of each other, the crashout for vi aiding in this with vi completely changing and then starting to have an understanding of her sister. the vander and isha moment in ep 6 was what i thought to be the climax for this. then act three starts. we're in a different universe where vi is dead but everyone lives in the memory of her. jinx has a huge memorial and pink in her hair, vander has a vi tattoo, ekko paints the mural. we go back to our universe and vi is rightfully yelling at cait not mincing her words at all, sure cait explains herself but never once has she shown any change with her actual actions. Vi learns jinx turned herself in and later when she goes down to find jinx she sees her suicidal and depressed. when jinx tricks her and escapes locking vi in why, after cait gets vi out, does vi not go running after jinx? why does she proceed to have sex with cait randomly in the jail cell her sister was in???? the line of jinx "supporting" caitvi felt like she was bitter and added to her depressed state. remember she became jealous that vi showed up with cait in s1?? that should've been ekko AND vi saving jinx later on. whats the point of jinx coming back with a haircut JUST like vi's and with pink in her hair for barely anything. what was the point of any of this. it does an incredible disservice to vi and jinx as characters and their entire relationship. its weird after all this vi would go back to cait. the final line for them comes off soo unbelievably laughably classist after everything i legit have no words for that shit. "i am the dirt under your nails cupcake nothings gonna clean me out" to the upper class person whose family was gassing zaun and who knows what else historically we as the audience don't know. i simply just do not think a character that is supposed to be embodying the hardships of the zaun would do all that.

[ang3l-fac33]

I was wondering if you're okay writing an Angel Dust. M!Reader. More specifically Drag Queen Angel Dust. A one-shot if perfect, but you can do whatever you want. You can do this as smut or fluff, it doesn't matter! Have a great rest of your day!!

angel dust x m!reader.

genre:fluff, a bit of suggestiveness, not proofread.

you were a resident of the hazbin hotel and had your own room, but currently you were in angel dusts room, spread out on his plush pink couch as you watched him dress in drag in front of his mirror. he looked to be gassing himself up, giving his mirror self small winks and grins.

you snorted in amusement and rolled your eyes, moving your hand to gently stroke fat nuggets, who was curled up next to you. the demon pig let out a snort as a response before nesting himself deeper into the soft fabric of the couch to get himself more comfortable.

angel sometimes liked to dress in drag. sometimes for no reason, other times for special occasions. he wanted to try some new make up he found along with a wig, and invited you in while he tried it on, wanting to know your opinions on his new look.

“what’s so funny over there doll?” angel dust asks, his brow raised as he applied more makeup to his face. after a few seconds he paused to turn and look at you, a smirk plastered on his face.

for a moment you just stared at him with slightly wide eyes, captured by all his beauty. you hadn’t really gotten a good look of his front until now, and it was safe to say you were impressed. all of the makeup looked good on him, and not to mention that sparkling dress he wore, it being slightly tight to show off his curves. and the beautiful blonde wig he was wearing.

when you continued to stare for a few seconds without saying anything, angel just laughed. “whaaat? am i really that pretty?” he asked teasingly, placing a hand on his hip.

his cockiness snapped you out of your daze and you scoffed, almost seeming to be embarrassed you got caught staring so hard. “oh shut up..” you mumbled, going to pet fat nuggets to distract yourself from the heat in your cheeks.

angel dust laughed again before putting down the makeup he was using, and made his way over to you. he plopped down next to you, making sure to get real close when he did, that same smug and cocky smirk on his lips. “are you too shy to say anything more?” he asked in a low tone, leaning his face in close to yours.

you swallowed the lump in your throat, your cheeks immediately starting to burn even more. you opened and closed your mouth, unable to find the right words to say. angel dust was just too gorgeous of a demon and he knew it, using it to his full advantage.

angel dust had cupped your cheeks with one set of hands, while the other two rested on your hips. he leaned in even more, your lips almost touching. there was panic and a flustered look in your eyes that made angel dust amused. it was always so easy to get you like this.

“so i’m guessin’ you like what you see?” he asked in a low, flirty tone, wiggling his eyebrows. he scooted closer to you so now that your legs were touching, and that same sultry look was still in his eyes. “y’think i look good in all of this? i guess i can call this look a big success.”

before you could answer he already climbed on top of you and pressed his lips to yours, staining your lips with red lipstick. you melted into it quite easily, as you always did around angel dust. he was just so hard to resist and you loved it.

angel dust hummed into the kiss, teasingly nipping at your bottom lip, causing you to moan slightly. you wrap your arms around him, letting him lean you further against the couch.

the motion disturbed fat nuggets, causing him to snort in irritation before leaping off the couch. neither of you noticed, too busy in your little make out session.

it went on for a bit, getting a bit more spicy as the seconds passed. angel dust really knew how to drive you wild, knew how to make you want so much more. angel was just about to start undoing your belt until a loud knock came from the other side of the rooms door, causing you both to jolt and freeze.

angel seemed a bit annoyed that they were interrupted but slid off you to go answer the door. he was greeted by charlie on the other side, a wide smile on her face. but when she noticed angels new look she squealed in delight.

“oh my goodness! you look absolutely amazing!” she said, her eyes sparkling. though she did notice his lipstick was a bit smudged.. hmm. “anyway.. it’s time for our hotel’s dialy get together! were going to try out some trust falling one more time!”

angel scoffed and groaned, though he knew better than to argue with her. when charlie wanted to do something she was really persistent on it. “be down in a sec, toots.” he replied before shutting the door.

you had sat up on the couch, rubbing the stained lipstick from your lips, looking a bit dazed. you two were lucky that charlie hadn’t noticed you from the doorway or she would’ve definitely caught on to what the two of you were about to do.

“you heard her, doll. we shouldn’t keep the princess waiting. but we’ll definitely continue where we left off afterwards.” he spoke with a smile, sending you a wink. he then sighed. “don’t really feel like changing.. ya mind if i go out like this?”

you blinked and nodded. you two were boyfriends after all. you leaped at the chance to show off how stunning your partner was. “well then let’s get goin’”

angel grabbed your hand and helped you up from the couch, fixing up your hair a bit to make it look less ruffled. he gave you a kiss to your cheek before leading the two of you out of his room.

you were sure that he left another lipstick mark on your cheek, but this time you didn’t care. you wanted all of the hotel to know you were his.

(sorry this took so long but i hope you like it! <3)

[rabbitsrams]

Omg you HAVE to further elaborate onto that inexperienced reader x inexperienced schlatt fic omfg that shit drove me UP the wall it was too good. You have made my year

oh anon i love u sm <3 yes im obsessed w this idea esp speaking as a barely experienced virgin gal :D

nsfw under the cut, minors dni!! 18+ only.

(also PLEASE lmk if u want more i love writing these!!)

so you and schlatt met in a calculus class. it was required for his major while it’s just a general education class for you. because you sit near each other in the lecture hall you're often paired together for quick discussions (those 'turn to the person next to you' talks that i dread lmao).

he always thought you were really hot but was too shy to ever say anything, mostly just thinking about you in every way imaginable while he jerks off.

and you too, your size kink rly went brr seeing his tall ass like...

you once made the mistake of looking at his hands for a little bit too long and then that was all you could think about for a week.

you eventually became friends slowly over the course of the semester which was how u started fooling around in the first place.

both of you opened up that u were both virgins and not that experienced. and this mf was really like 'oh wouldn't be funny if...'

"how am i attracted to you?"

it starts with some making out. you've both kissed people before so you were a bit familiar with it. and it's nice!

you starting to kiss down to his neck and omg his fucking reaction when you leave a hickey for the first time. he's flaunting it so everyone can see, his roommate and friends are gassing him up sooo much.

while in class he's reading on how to give a hickey and ends up giving you so. many. all over your body. did he just awaken a marking kink?

also like once you guys start you just can't get enough of each other.

he's just so. obsessed with your moans. he's watched porn loads before, he knows how exaggerated those moans are. but somehow your more subdued noises turn him on even more. AND THE WAY YOU SAY HIS NAME???? he loves it.

his face going all red when you touch him anywhere. he whimpers so much, it's like you have him under a spell.

like i said before, he's super vocal. he usually can't help himself, especially when you're on your knees sucking his cock. because duh <3

once you started sucking him off, you can't get enough. and he can't either.

blowing him under the desk in the library. oh lord help me.

wearing one of his sweaters (the harvard one came to mind particularly) for the first time and he's just. jaw dropped.

the prettiest girl ever is wearing his clothes???? if he doesn’t have you right then and there he’s jerking off to you as soon as u leave.

and also you wearing his sweaters when walking around campus and he is just so proud like wow. you're all his.

falling asleep together after your first time and waking up to his morning wood‼️ he’s so needy in the morning he’s practically humping ur leg as soon as he wakes up. thank god your roommate was out.

lazily riding him while he just gushes at how beautiful you are in the morning. fuck. me.

whenever he spends the night at your dorm or vice versa you always help him out in the mornings <3 whether it be a blowjob or a handjob or turning to your side so he can slip it in and fuck you :D so what if you've been late to class a couple times?

you call him ALL the pet names. angel. sweetheart. darling. baby.

and his for you? oh. all the ones you call him and more. toots (thats a major one). doll(face). princess. bark bark bark.

you sending him nudes for the first time one night when he's home visiting family. what starts off innocent enough, you in one of his t-shirts without any pants on turns to pics of your tits, your fingers in your pussy, then VIDEOS OF YOU MASTURBATING!!! he's ripping his jeans off as he slams his bedroom door shut and dials your number into facetime.

SKIPPING CLASS JUST TO HAVE SEX SJKLFBHEDDJKLSJK

HE DRIVES TO SOME REMOTE PLACE ON CAMPUS!!!! AND U HAVE CAR SEX FOR THE FIRST TIME OMG

it's SO awkward at first😭where do you go? the back? stay in the front? go into the trunk?

you're glad he wanted to stay in the front because OMG. RIDING HIM IN THE CAR SEAT. he tries sooooo hard not to cum too fast bc ur tits are literally in his face and your pussy is squeezing him so well fuck fuck fuck he's obsessed with you. wow.

[ledetlore]

Hi!! I don't know what to call u so I'm sorry, but I am absolutely in love with ur fic

What was it called?? ;-; uhhhh "a little bit mine", I think??

Well, either way, I love it so much, gotta be one of my most favorite ouaw fic of all times <33/p

Honestly call me a slur and I'll still come running xx

Just a Little Bit Mine!! I am so gassed to hear so, sugarcube!! It was a lot of work and now it's done I'm sort of... drifting around.

Sequel is like. 2 chapters deep already, but I am not posting them for a while yet. Maybe in a week or so!

I'm so happy people are connecting with my fic, I wasn't expecting it to blow up 😭😭