cultfilmcompanion

[moonlightndaydreams]

When SKZ find your smut reading history....

NSFW // SMUT // MDNI

a/n: this is a reupload from ages ago, and thought I'd bring it back.

Chan: Werewolf Romance.

When Chan finds your iPad with your tumblr account open he notices A LOT of WEREWOLF themed stories in your feed. “She must be really into this.” He notes and then he decides he will bring some of this to the bedroom. He checks when the next full moon is. Then he gets to work organizing. Think furs and rugs and a crackling fire. Chan has totally brought out his outfit from Kingdom out of the wardrobe. It’s not the first time you have role played during sex, so he’s confident to just spring the whole thing on you. You come in through the front door to your home and he’s immediately on you. Pushing you up against the wall. “I can smell your cunt already, my precious little thing.” He sneers. You gasp when he growls and sinks to his knees, tearing your skirt right off you along with your panties. “Channie, are you… are you being a—” you start as you take in his costume. “Yes a werewolf baby.” He snarls as he stands back up and releases his dick, lifting you up against the wall and wrapping your legs around his waist as he impales you on his cock. No prep. You love it. He attacks your collarbone ferociously with his mouth as he carries you to the bedroom where he’s set it up to look like some kind of primitive sleeping (fucking) area. You can do nothing but let him fuck you dumb, marking you, biting you, eating you out like you’re the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted, not stopping until the sun comes up.

Hyunjin: Old Time Vampire king. Ethereal. Beautiful. Captivating.

Your bf Hyunjin knows you’re into the whole “vampire thing” what with all your Anne Rice books, and obsession with Dracula. But his idea to bring your vampire fantasy to life started all because he saw this gothic-like winged armchair in a vintage store. He had this vision of himself wearing all black leather, his black hair half up-half down, and makeup. He’s thinking dark red lipstick, pale foundation, contact lenses. So he bought the armchair, some eerie candlesticks, and a soft red blanket (to fuck on after you’ve sucked him off on the chair). He waited for a night when you’d be home in the dark. He was ready, dressed up, candles lit. You entered a whole other world when you entered your bedroom. Hyunjin never looked so fuckable. So grand sitting with one leg crossed over the other, his hand playing around near his mouth. A wild, crazed expression on his face. He looked absolutely unhinged and you fell to your knees immediately to beg him to let you suck his cock, and for him to suck your pulse. The next few hours saw you choking on his cock, being bitten all along your neck and inner thighs, being eaten out like you were having the life sucked from you, to being absolutely possessed by this beautiful man as he relentlessly fucked into you and filling you up over and over again.

Minho: Mafia /Ganster/ Business Man.

Yep, Lee Minho knew you love your Mafia/gangster enemies to lovers books. You had a whole fucking bookshelf of them these days. He wondered what it was about them that kept your nose buried in the pages, so he read a few of them himself when you were at work. Holy fucking shit you were into some rough, toxic themes. He thought to himself. Minho could work with that though, he loved to be bossy and rough. You received a message one afternoon to meet him at a hotel. Wear something sexy, and be ready for a surprise. You entered the hotel room, one of the more flashy suites, to find the room dimly lit save for a lamp on a desk. Sitting at the other side of the desk was your Minho dressed in a flashy suit and an unreadable expression as he sat reading one of your Mafia books. He looked up and gave you a sinister smirk. “Hmm, it seems according to this book, you’ve been sent to me as some sort of payment or bargain.” He stood up, throwing the book on the desk and sauntering over to stand next to you. You were absolutely soaking at the thought of what Minho might have in store for you. “And that you are here simply to please me. My little slave bride.” He whispered in your ear. “And I want to start with you sitting on my desk while I eat you out.” He slid his hand up your inner thigh to explored the fabric of your panties. “So wet. Then you’re gonna let me fuck your face. And that’s just for starters.”

Felix: Fairy in the woods/otherworldly creatures.

Felix sat wide eyed looking at your Kindle library. From what he could see you had some sort of non-human and size kink. And forests. Always forests. He didn’t want you to know that he’d been looking through your stories, but he couldn’t keep his mind off of somehow recreating the theme with you? He thought about it for weeks, and then the idea came. “Love, I need you to come meet me at this little holiday place tomorrow afternoon”. He gave you the address. You were intrigued and excited for a little dirty weekend away. It turned out Felix had booked a cabin in the woods, a tiny home. How cute. Until Felix stepped out of the cabin and rushed over to you. He seemed nervous as he asked if you were a lost human. A lost what? You gawked, but then you saw it. His contact lenses making him seem mystical. The pale foundation that allowed his freckles to show through. The light lipstick, slightly smeared like he’d been kissing for hours, and the interesting attire… like wings? Then it clicked. So he knew what type of books really get you hot, then? But he seemed so nervous. “I am so very lost.” You cooed looking through your lashes innocently. “Can you help me? Take me to your home?” You added. Once inside the cabin he sat nervously watching you. “Have you never seen a human up close before?” You broke the silence. Felix shook his head. You stood up from your seat and slowly walked over to the visibly shaking man/creature? You straddled him and sunk down onto his lap and his dick immediately started to fill out. He could never get enough of you. “That must mean you’ve never touched a human then?” You purred in his ear. “And,” you stroked his cheek, making him shiver. “you definitely haven’t fucked one.” You leaned in close “Let me change that for you.”

Jisung: A Demon/Spirit/Creature.

Hannie couldn’t quite decide what fantasy to bring to life for you. It wasn’t his first foray. He loved to see what you had been reading on Tumblr and then putting a little something together for you. He’d “sprung” things on you before, like when he dressed up as an alien and pretended his dick was a tentacle (along with the toys he had bought for the occasion). He’d dressed up in lingerie one time because you had read a cross dressing piece. Han would do anything to please you, and although he was always nervous, you always got so aroused that the nerves were worth it. The only problem was that he’d sometimes get confused (or carried away) and end up mixing themes. Like tonight. You weren’t sure what he was supposed to be, but he’d made a nest of clothes on the floor, along with pillows and blankets. He’d got his hands on some interesting contact lenses and he was butt-naked. “Is this a nest my love?” you gushed bringing your hands together in excitement. Han nodded. “I’m a demon… Or maybe an incubus… um.. or…” he scratched his head. “Are you a demon-slash-incubus-slash-creature that needs taking care of…. or…. a demon-slash-incubus-slash-creature that wants to fuck my brains out until I beg you to stop?” Hannie looked at you with confusion and your heart melted at how innocent he looked. He scratched his head. “Um… I can’t remember what the story said.” he half smiled. You grinned “Baby! Just throw me down on the floor and see what happens.” And he did. It started off sweet and tender, but as usual, once Han got into it, you ended up sweaty, filthy and covered in cum, and most definitely satisfied. (sorry guys, I couldn’t decide what I wanted our Jisung to do… I like him in so many ways but I had to go with something before I overthought things).

Binnie: Fireman spicy romance.

That is what Binnie sees you reading while curled up on the couch next to you. You seem to be absolutely enthralled, captivated even, but somehow you are able to keep a straight face whilst reading the really dirty parts. Binnie wondered what kinds of faces you’d pull if he dressed up like a fireman and fucked you senseless? Would you keep a straight face, or would you beg him to let you come, to save you from that fire in your core? He needed to find out. “You know, babe,” he pointed at the book in your hand. “I reckon I could make a better fireman than that made up character in your book.” You raise an eyebrow and look up from your page. “You think?” you challenge. Binnie loves a challenge. So you both made a plan. You would call him up on the phone because you were in the bath tub and needed rescuing. He’d come in to put the fake fire out and save you. But he can’t resist your nakedness, your neediness, your timidness. You can’t resist the tight shirt and uniform, his muscles bulging underneath the cotton fabric. He’d even gone as far as smearing grey ash on his body for full effect. “It’s okay baby girl, Binnie’s got you. What do you need to feel better? What can I do?” You look up at him with big fearful eyes. “I…I need you to fill me up… need your cock… please.” you are desperate, and Binnie cannot deny you, bending you over the side of the tub and pushing his thick cock deep into you. “Let Binnie make it all better.” And he smirks when he sees you can’t keep a straight face, it’s contorted in pleasure, while he’s doing the filthiest things to you.

Jeongin: Boy next door/ Kidnapper

You loved your dinner dates with your boyfriend, Jeongin, and this one was no exception. He’d picked you up, bought you flowers, took you to a cute restaurant. You both laughed at his silly words. All the cheesy, cute couple things. Jeongin was the sweetest man you had ever dated. Super considerate and kind. That’s why you were taken by surprise when after you left the restaurant he pushed you up against the wall. It wasn’t like him to exhibit PDA, and he wasn’t about to either. He leaned in close to your ear. “I know the types of stories you’re into.” he whispered. Oh! Fuck. Your eyes widened. “And I wanna explore the concept with you.” You gasped. He knew you were into the kidnapping/Stockholm syndrome type scenarios? You made eye contact with him. “If you’ll let me, this is what’s going to happen.” he kissed your neck softly. “You’re going to get into the car, no fuss.” His stroked your cheek with a finger. A wetness forming in your panties, a thrilling feeling through your veins. “Then I am going to restrain you, and take you into my special hideout where no one can find you. Where no one can hear you scream.” Where did this Jeongin come from? “And…and what are you going to do with me?” you stammered playing along. He pulled away and smiled kindly, but there was a sinister energy behind is eyes. “Oh, I’m going to make you beg me for release… sexually that is. And I am going to use you however I choose. If.. if you want to that is.” he suddenly went shy. “Jeongin! Let’s fucking go!”

Seungmin: Pirate! “Can I tie you up tonight, doll?”

Seungmin remarks while you finish washing up dishes together. “Of course.” you reply like you were talking about what movie to watch later. You both loved a little bondage here and there. So after the kitchen was tidied, and you had both showered, Suengmin directed you to kneel on the middle of the bed in just a little satin nightie. “Let’s get you restrained. Good girl.” he whispered. “I’m going to to leave the room for a moment, okay? But I just want to make sure you have your safeword and colour system revised. Tonight is going to be a bit different to usual so I need you to speak up if you’re not comfortable. No safeword or colour, I keep going. Got it?” you nod. Seungmin was always so practical, and sensible, which meant you got the shock of your life when he returned dressed as a fucking pirate! You almost laughed if not for the horror of realising that he must have seen what smut you had been reading. You felt like you were going to die of shame. Suengmin, sensing your humiliation laughed coldly. “This is what you want, right?” he smirked at you. “I mean,” he knelt on the bed and gripped your chin, forcing it up to look at him. He even had an eyepatch on. “Stowing away on a ship like this, a pretty little angel like you… you are asking to be ruined.” he slid a hand up you thigh to find your dripping cunt. “Hmm… looks like that’s exactly what you want to happen. Turn around.” Your turned around and was pushed face first into the mattress. “It’s been so long since I got to fuck a pretty little pussy like this. Hold still. I need to see how much of me you can take, before I really get started.”

------

@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin @weareapackofstrays @xxkissesforchanniexx @starr-lvst @queenmea604 @queen-in-the-shadows @newhope8 @vanillacupcakefrosting @3rachasdomesticbanana @fun-fanfics @palindrome969 @rhonnie23 @jisunglyricist @strayywayy @yaorzu-blog @armystay89 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @everythingboutkpop @jiminssluttyminx @felixleftchickennugget @minho4cat

[theladyofshalott1989]

Mum’s the Word 🤫

(Modern AU Sebastian Sallow x MC One-shot)

Summary: Twenty-four hours after his long-term relationship goes up in smoke—just in time for his thirtieth birthday—Sebastian reluctantly tags along with his twin sister to a mysterious locale to, allegedly, secure himself a new love interest. Shenanigans ensue. 

Or: How many pop culture references can one writer cram into a story? (Spoiler: far more than she’s willing to admit, even to herself.)

Word Count: 4420

[ AO3 Link ]

Author's Note: Alexa, play "Fireball" by Pitbull. 🙃🙃🙃 (Oh, and happy early birthday to the Sebastian and Anne in my head canon💚)

“No wallowing in misery on our birthday,” Anne said, her voice crackling through his mobile. Service had always been spotty in Sebastian’s flat. Tonight was no exception. 

Anne rang mere minutes ago, rudely interrupting Sebastian’s horror film marathon. He currently had the telly paused on the best celebrity Chris—Hemsworth, obviously—riding his dirt bike into an invisible wall, moments before plummeting to his death. Sebastian was quite chuffed with himself that he managed to pause on such a perfect scene, although he always felt a slight pang of disappointment in recalling that this would be the last moment of the film in which Hemsworth graced the screen. 

But back to Anne. 

He sighed. “You’re not the one who was broken up with the day before your birthday.” 

Elizabeth and Sebastian had been together for five blessed years. Blessed in a physical sense. Perhaps not so much, uh, emotionally. Elizabeth apparently agreed and had been quite vocal yesterday about how much of her life he had wasted. No mention of his life being wasted too. Typical of her, really. She’d even stormed out of his life, quite literally slamming the door shut behind her, leaving all of her belongings behind in the process. 

To be fair, Elizabeth didn’t have a lot of items at his flat; Sebastian didn’t appreciate clutter and she’d been rather materialistic. It wasn’t like they had lived together either. God forbid. That would have been a nightmare, for Elizabeth had a fondness for bobbleheads. There was a whole wall of them at her flat in Soho. At least five shelves worth! Sebastian avoided that wall like the plague, averting his gaze whenever he was forced to walk past, which was quite often, since that wall, unfortunately, led to her bedroom. The bobbleheads’ beady little eyes would nod at him menacingly, as if they didn’t approve of his cavorting with their Elizabeth. Well, they must be happy now. No more Sebastian.

Come to think of it, Elizabeth had always been annoyed that he teased her about her ridiculous collection. Shelves were meant for books, not horrifying knick-knacks! That was probably one of the many reasons why she broke up with him, if not the main reason, as ridiculous as that sounded. Not that he’d ever ask. Not that she’d ever talk to him again. That bridge was effectively burned forever.

“I never understood why you were with her for so long anyway,” Anne continued. Sebastian could hear shuffling on the other end of the line. She was likely decluttering as she chatted with him. Multi-tasking was something Anne did a lot. It was something they had in common.

Sebastian managed to refrain from saying aloud, “She was a good shag,” and instead just grunted noncommittally, popping a handful of popcorn in his mouth and chewing vigorously.

“Come on, Seb. Humor me? I really want to go out and do something.”

“Go out for a bite with Ominis then!”

“He’s held up at work. Something about an important deadline.” Sebastian could hear Anne’s pout through his mobile. Anne and Ominis were married last summer in a lovely—albeit a bit saccharine for Sebastian’s taste—ceremony on the beach in Brighton. They’d been together for ages. Sebastian didn’t know how Anne managed. As much as he loved his oldest friend, Ominis could be a bit of a buzzkill. He was an accountant, after all.

“Tough luck,” Sebastian said in reply, knowing that Anne would not be amused. 

He waited for Anne to give up, even though it was probably in vain. Anne possessed a stubborn streak that rivaled his own. Meanwhile, he unpaused the film, keeping the sound muted. He had it memorized anyway. He gave Hemsworth one last long, lingering look of appreciation, and then he was diving down to his demise. 

“What if I had an idea?” Anne asked, a mischievous lilt in her tone. Sebastian’s shoulders lifted, a spark of attention flickering in his gaze as he shifted forward, the worn cushions protesting softly beneath him. Anne certainly knew how to pique Sebastian’s interest. It was probably a twin thing.

“What sort of idea?” he asked, reaching for the clicker and pausing the film once more. 

“Well, there’s someone I think you’d very much like to meet. And now that you’re single…”

“Oh?” Sebastian interrupted, raising an unruly eyebrow. “Please tell me she’s tall, blond, and athletic.”

Anne laughed. “That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

Of course. “Right,” Sebastian said. “And where, pray tell, will she be on Halloween? A party, I presume?”

“Not exactly.” 

Sebastian squinted at the telly, then glanced down at himself—his rumpled shirt, a stain on his joggers, crumbs scattered across his lap. He looked so unkempt, almost pitiful. When had he become so pathetic? 

Get a hold of yourself, Sebastian! You’re thirty now. Go out and do something fun, the older and wiser version of himself shouted above his lizard brain. 

Sebastian brushed the crumbs off his shirt. Might as well give Anne’s plan a shot. “Fine. Where to?” 

The address Anne texted him was a gym, of all places. Good thing she’d told him to wear casual clothing. 

In typical fashion, Sebastian was early, so he leaned against the wall near the entrance, waiting for his twin sister to arrive, attempting to ooze suave energy on the off-chance that the young woman Anne wanted to introduce him to was here, or arriving soon. 

But why a gym? And on their birthday? And why would this woman Anne wanted him to meet— whoever she bloody was—be at the gym on Halloween? Unless Anne had taken his request for someone athletic rather literally. A man could hope.

Sebastian admitted to himself he was intrigued. He scrolled on his iPhone absentmindedly as he surreptitiously inspected the room. 

The gym was more crowded than he expected, but he didn’t observe any young women around his age. Not yet, at least. A group of rather matronly, older women stood off to the side of the room near a door that appeared to lead to a fitness studio. They were chattering away like a gaggle of geese, their heads bobbing back and forth, much like his ex-girlfriend’s bobbleheads. Damn them! Damn those bloody bobbleheads! Why couldn’t he get them out of his head? They were a downright nuisance. 

“Happy birthday, Seb!” Anne to the rescue, thank the universe. She pulled him into a short but sweet embrace.

“Right back at ya, sis,” he replied as he fumbled about with his mobile, stuffing it in the pocket of his hoodie.

“Good, you’re in joggers,” Anne said, nodding approvingly. “You listened.” She smiled and winked.

“I do that sometimes.” He paused. “Now, where’s this cheeky minx you wanted to introduce me to?”

Anne, also in joggers, although hers were one half of a forest-green set—Anne could be a fashion icon when she put in the effort—rolled her eyes. “No wonder Elizabeth broke up with you,” she said.

Sebastian mock-gasped, plunging an invisible dagger into his heart. “Et tu, Brute!”

“Oh, spare me, Caesar.” She pulled her own mobile out of her purse, glanced at it briefly, then nodded as she peered over Sebastian’s shoulder. “Good, we’re right on time. The class should be starting soon.”

Sebastian groaned. “A class? You brought me to one of your exercise classes?” 

Anne had been taking exercise classes for years, ever since she beat breast cancer. When Sebastian asked her why—it wasn’t like she needed them, the wisp of a woman that she was—she explained it away as something she enjoyed doing, as she’d never had the stamina when she was ill. Sebastian understood to a certain extent, but he also didn’t appreciate being part of her devious scheme, whatever it entailed. 

Speaking of that… 

“Are you trying to tell me something?” he asked, glancing down at his very slight paunch. Sebastian enjoyed a good pint or two at the local pub every other night or so, as most of his colleagues at the university did. It was often the highlight of his day. Who knew that being an English professor could be so tiresome? 

“Never!” she said through a chuckle. “I promise I didn’t lie. There is someone I want to introduce you to. But a class or two would probably do you some good,” she added as she walked forward, grasping his hand and pulling him along. 

“Okay, where is she?” Sebastian asked, shaking his hand forcefully to release himself from her surprisingly firm grip. He didn’t need his potential new girlfriend to see him holding hands with his sister, of all things. 

But Anne didn’t reply as she’d been accosted by the throng of matriarchs at the entrance to the fitness studio. 

Wait. 

No.

“Anne…” Sebastian began.

“Oh, Anne! We’ve missed you! Where have you been?” The old ladies bowled over each other, pulling Anne into hug after endless hug.

“And who is this?” a woman with bottle-red hair inquired, reaching out for Sebastian. She smelled like she’d been rolling around in a bathtub full of potpourri. He flinched and backed away.

“This is my twin brother, Sebastian,” Anne said. “It’s our birthday today!” Sebastian grimaced, his cheeks growing hot.

“Happy birthday,” another woman with a shock of white hair said to his left, patting his shoulder. At least she smelled normal. Sebastian ducked to the side regardless. Why were these women so affectionate? He was a literal stranger to them! For crying out loud!

The doors opened, saving him from being forced to verbally acknowledge the women. They all shuffled through, Anne leading the pack. Sebastian dawdled behind, his tattered old trainers squeaking on the shiny wood floor. 

“Anne,” he said, as he slunk behind her—to the very front row. Dammit, this was dire.

“Yes?” She didn’t look him in the eye. She was too busy stretching. Apparently.

“What class is this?” Sebastian asked hesitantly.

She opened her mouth to reply but was interrupted by a booming baritone. “Welcome, everyone, to Zumba! It looks like we have a new face tonight.” Oh no… 

Sebastian snapped his head toward the sound of the man’s voice, only to instantly freeze in place.

Standing before him was the most beautiful man Sebastian had ever laid eyes on. 

Wait, that couldn’t be right. 

Sebastian shook his head.

The man was simply very aesthetically pleasing, that was all. His eyes were a captivating shade of golden-brown, his hair blond, long and wavy, pulled back in a low bun, and his smile… His smile was dazzling, white and radiant, catching the fluorescent light above his head like a flash of brilliance. He even noticed that the man had a dimple on the right side of his cheek, but not his left. But most importantly, while he wasn’t slim, he was fit. Very, very fit. Chris Hemsworth’s perfectly chiseled body briefly flitted across Sebastian’s mind. He shook his head—bloody again —to disperse it. What was wrong with him today? 

Sebastian blinked back to attention.

“I’m Damien, your instructor,” the man said, addressing the whole group, but Sebastian could swear his eyes lingered on Sebastian for a bit longer than everyone else. “Is everyone ready to dance?”

No, Sebastian was not, in fact, ready to dance. Sebastian Sallow didn’t dance.

The instructor—Damien—adjusted his headset, then fiddled with a clicker he fished out of his pocket. The music began.

God, were they really going to warm up to Pitbull? Sebastian shuddered. He was in deep, deep trouble. What had Anne been thinking?

Well, this was complete and utter shite. No surprises there.

“If you’re having trouble following along, start with the feet!” Damien exclaimed, his eyes firmly fixed on Sebastian. “You don’t have to do the arms.” 

Sebastian struggled to keep his composure, but it was rather difficult under the circumstances; his brain was fried and he was already sweating bullets. Why was it so hot in this damned room? Where were the bloody fans? And, he suddenly realized he left his Nalgene on the Tube. When this class was over he was going to murder Anne. 

To make matters worse, they were only ten minutes in! And where was this young lady that Anne wanted to introduce him to? It would be just Sebastian’s luck that she decided not to come tonight and his birthday would be a total loss. What bollocks!

In his mental grumbling, Sebastian lost his bearings entirely. He stumbled right in the middle of his grapevine like a baby giraffe learning to walk and crashed into the woman to his right—Mrs. Potpourri-Explosion, with her blazing red hair and a figure that could only be described as 'huggably plump.' 

She yelped but recovered quickly, following it up with a polite, “It’s alright, dearie,” not once losing her rhythm.

How were these little old ladies so graceful? It was beyond comprehension.

The song—Sebastian vaguely recognized it as merengue—soon ended. Damien, ever attentive, sprinted over to Sebastian. Sebastian braced himself. 

“You’re doing great!” Damien called out, flashing a grin. Sebastian desperately wanted to respond, but he found himself speechless, completely overwhelmed by the sudden crisp scent of fresh grass. And was that a hint of mint? Good lord, Damien smelled positively divine. 

Clearing his throat, Sebastian glanced down at his trainers. “Thanks, mate,” he mumbled, but Damien was already off, dashing back to the front of the class.

Anne snickered to Sebastian’s left, but he was too distracted to verbally acknowledge her. The music had begun again, this time Michael Jackson’s “Thriller.” A classic for Halloween. 

Did the instructors choose the songs? Sebastian hoped not. Most of the music thus far had been, frankly, uninspired. But, to be fair, he didn’t think the women in the room would appreciate his taste in music. They’d more than likely complain that it was far too loud and bassy. Anne had never particularly been a fan of Kasabian, The Libertines, or even Arctic Monkeys for that matter. Her loss.

Oh no, they had moved on to salsa. No. Absolutely not.

Sebastian mimed a drinking gesture to Anne, insinuating that he was stepping out of the room for some water. She nodded as she executed what Damien called a ‘right turn’ without missing a beat. Sebastian felt a wave of relief at his decision to escape the room, even if only briefly.

Sebastian thought he had fled alone, but as he made his way to the drinking fountain, taking a quick sip of water, he was gobsmacked to find Mrs. Potpourri looming behind him. He stumbled to the side.

“Is this your first time attending a Zumba class?” she asked, leaning down to fill her water bottle. It was bright red, almost as vibrant as her hair.

Sebastian nodded hesitantly. “That obvious, huh?”

She smiled. “You really are doing great,” she said, repeating what Damien had said earlier in the class. “I’m Mrs. Evans, by the way. But you can call me Mary.” 

Evans. Sebastian’s least favorite celebrity Chris. Of course. He somehow managed to hold back a chuckle as he drawled, “You’re far too kind.” “I do try,” she said, her eyes sparkling. Was Sebastian imagining it or did the corner of her lips tilt up ever so slightly? Was she… flirting with him?

No, absolutely not!

Sebastian pivoted sharply and hurried back into the fitness studio. Anne finished an impressively complex turn, then shot him a triumphant grin. “Back already?” she teased, a shit-eating smirk on her face. 

“You’re a menace,” Sebastian muttered.

“I know I am," she shot back, "but what does that make you?”

“A fool, obviously,” Sebastian said through a  sigh. “Why I ever thought I could trust you…"

Anne had the audacity to shush him! The cheek of it!

And then they were back to dancing to a Pitbull song. What would Mr. Worldwide think of his music being such a hit among the geriatrics? He'd probably be less than thrilled, though the cash flow might help dull the sting a bit…

Mrs. Potpourri—erm, Evans, that is—piped in, scattering his distracted thoughts. “Oh, this song’s my favorite,” she said, very loudly, as if she wanted everyone to hear. “Thank you, Damien!” 

Damien tossed another one of his stunning smiles in their direction, his eyes snagging on Sebastian’s once more. Sebastian jerked backward, swallowing nervously, then promptly choked on his own saliva. He burst into a fit of coughing.

The next thing he knew Damien was beside him, thumping him on the back vigorously. 

“Breathe, breathe,” he said calmly amid thump after embarrassing thump.

Sebastian attempted to get a word in edgewise but he was too busy literally choking. Bloody fucking hell.

“What’s his name?” he heard Damien ask Anne amidst his hacking. Anne stood beside him looking as if she might burst into laughter at any second. Yes, Sebastian was definitely going to murder her after class. That was decided. 

“Sebastian,” she answered.

“Sebastian,” Damien practically crooned. His voice was rich, as if it were dripping with honey. “Sebastian, take a breath.”

Sebastian did as he was told. He took another. 

“Good, good.” 

Once again, his nose was swept up in a sharp tide of grass and mint. He could almost picture himself at a football match on Christmas Day. God, why did Damien smell so good? 

“I’m alright,” Sebastian finally managed to eke out. His whole body felt like he had just been thrown into a blazing fire. He knew his freckled cheeks had utterly betrayed him. 

Damien looked away, perhaps embarrassed for him. Or maybe to stifle a laugh. Sebastian hadn’t the foggiest idea.

“We only have a song or two left before cool-down,” Damien said. “You can sit them out if you’d like and wait for your… sister?” he finished as a question. Anne nodded at him in affirmation as Sebastian shook his head vehemently. He was doing that a lot today. 

“No, I can do it,” he stated firmly. Damien narrowed his eyes. Sebastian noted it seemed to be more of an inquisitive stare than a challenge though. “I can do it,” he repeated, probably lamely, but whatever. There was no possible way he was going to give up now. Sebastian didn’t care if he passed out cold on the floor from asphyxiation. He was going to prove to this man—his two left feet be damned—that he could finish his class. That he could keep up with his minuscule sister, with these elderly women.

His determination gave him pause though. Why did he even care? Surely Damien wouldn’t give him a second thought after this class was over. Sebastian wouldn’t be back. Sebastian wouldn’t think about Damien ever again either… right? Dammit, he was lying to himself if he thought that statement was true.

For there was something about Damien.

Something in the graceful way he demonstrated the moves for the class, the deep rumble of his voice as he called out affirmations, and then, of course, there was his addictive scent. 

Damien chose that very moment to release his hair from his low bun. Sebastian couldn’t look away. Cascades of golden blond hair shimmered in the harsh fluorescent lighting, bouncing coquettishly against the top of Damien’s shoulders as he finished a move. Sebastian released a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. 

Oh my god. 

Oh my god, was he bisexual? Had thirty years of his life passed him by and he’d never even realized?

Surely not. Surely not! No… Damien was just very feminine. Right?

Sebastian would know if he were into men by thirty years old, wouldn’t he?

And then it hit him. Chris Hemsworth. Why did he go to the cinema five times to view The Cabin in the Woods in the first place? Chris Motherfucking Hemsworth. It wasn’t like the man was a BAFTA Award-winning actor. He was merely a sight for sore eyes. He was eye candy. Man candy. 

God dammit! Sebastian was very, very bisexual. And he was having this revelation during the middle of a Zumba class, beside his sister, sandwiched between at least a dozen middle-aged women, on his thirtieth birthday. Bugger it all. 

He gulped as the final song ended. He couldn’t stay for the cool-down. He needed to get out of this room. Now. Right now. He grabbed Anne by the shoulder and practically carried her out of the fitness studio as she shouted out in protest. Sebastian averted his gaze but managed to catch Damien’s eyes widening before he whipped around and exited the room, irascible twin sister in tow.

Once the door clicked shut behind them, and ensuring they were out of earshot of the gym rats, Sebastian set Anne back down on solid ground.

“What are you doing?” Anne hissed, her eyes blazing. 

Why was she angry? It was Sebastian who should be angry! Which he was. Extremely!

“Why didn’t you say something?” he demanded, crossing his arms across his chest.

Anne glowered back at him. “What are you prattling on about?”

“The instructor! Damien!” 

“What of him?”

Sebastian glared. “You know what I’m talking about.”

“Out with it, then. I want to hear you say it.” 

It took Sebastian far too long to realize he was tapping his foot on the floor furiously. “You were going to introduce me to him!”

“By Jove, he’s got it!” 

Sebastian released an exasperated sigh. “How did you even know I’d be interested in a man?”

Anne paused. She tilted her head at him curiously. Then, to Sebastian’s complete shock and annoyance, she started to laugh. Why was she laughing? Dammit!

“You didn’t know you were bi?” she said through a guffaw. Sebastian merely stared back at her, his cheeks growing hot. Again. Her face slackened. Her expression shifted to complete astonishment. “You didn’t know,” she repeated, this time more seriously. “I figured you knew. I mean, I am, so why wouldn’t you be?”

“What?” Sebastian stammered.

“Oh come off it, Sebastian.  Don’t play coy—you knew I liked women too.”

“I most certainly did not!”

“Really? Even back when Ominis and I were on a break at school?”

Sebastian shook his head. “Oh. Well, erm…Poppy and I…” “I don’t want to know!” He clapped his hands to his ears. “Stop right there!”

“I’m stopping, I’m stopping!”

She raised an eyebrow. “Ominis is bi, too, you know.”

“Excuse me?��

“Why do you think he hates Hobhouse so much?”

Absolutely not. Sebastian took a step back. “Now I know you’re messing with me,” he tried, hoping he was correct. 

She burst into laughter. “Okay, okay. You got me there. But he did tell me he kissed Garreth once.”

“No!” 

“Yes.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Swear down!”

Sebastian brought a hand to his forehead and began to rub at it vigorously. “At this rate, I’m questioning everything—myself included.”

“Someone has to.”

He gave her a good shove. “Rude,” she complained, but Sebastian noted her tone was light and airy. “Well, what are you waiting for?” 

Now it was Anne’s turn to cross her arms and tap her foot impatiently.

 “What do you mean?” he asked, frowning.

She nodded toward the fitness studio door, which was now open. The crowd of middle-aged women were already streaming out. Well, it appeared class had (finally) ended. So why wasn’t Sebastian relieved? 

“Go on, then—go get him, tiger!” Anne laughed, giving him a firm push.

Sebastian gulped. How exactly did one approach a man? He guessed he was about to find out.

He had barely stepped through the door when Damien practically materialized before him. Sebastian’s heart nearly leapt out of his chest.

“Thanks for coming today!” Damien said, grinning. “It was nice to see a male face in my class for once.” He was speaking so quickly that Sebastian could hardly keep up—and he completely missed the last bit. But Damien was now looking at him expectantly. Shit.

“Uh…what?” Sebastian said, rather dumbly.

Damien chuckled, toying with a loose strand of his long blond hair. “I asked if you’d come again,” he repeated, his eyes glinting with amusement.

“Hm?” Sebastian’s attention had drifted, far too entranced by the way Damien’s long, slender fingers teased through his hair. Sebastian wanted to be the one doing that. 

Oh god, Damien had asked a question. Shit! Shit, shit, shit.

He snapped back to reality to find Damien smiling, eyebrows raised. “Will you be coming to my class again?”

“Oh.” Sebastian hesitated, unsure of what to say. He didn’t want to lie, but he also didn’t want to let Damien down.

Perhaps sensing his indecision, Damien filled the silence. “No pressure. I was just curious.”

“To be honest…I don’t think I’m cut out for Zumba.”

Damien’s smile faltered very slightly. It seemed as if he was trying to keep his expression as neutral as possible. “Fair enough,” he replied. “Well, thanks for coming, then.” He gave a polite nod and started to turn away.

“Wait!” Sebastian blurted out. He was bungling this entirely. Why was he like this? 

Damien turned back around and searched Sebastian’s face.

“I… erm…could I maybe have your number?” he heard himself ask, barely believing it. 

Damien’s eyebrows shot up, but then a carefree grin spread across his handsome face. All of Sebastian’s thoughts emptied at once as warmth flooded through him from head to toe—and then some. Most notably, a steady pool of it settled low in his belly, just above his waistband. He shifted his stance, trying to ignore the uncomfortable pressure as he waited, pulse thrumming, for Damien’s reply. 

“I thought you’d never ask,” Damien said, pulling his mobile out of his pocket.

And just like that, Sebastian Sallow was stepping into new territory: showing interest in a man. On his thirtieth birthday, no less. Truly, the universe had a sense of humor. Did wonders never cease? 

Sebastian sauntered out of the fitness studio, feeling rather chuffed with himself. He spotted Mrs. Evans by the door, likely lingering to thank Damien for the class—she struck him as the exceptionally polite type.

“He’s all yours now,” Sebastian said with a casual nod. Mrs. Evans just smiled back, an odd twinkle in her eye that almost looked… mischievous.

She raised a hand in farewell, then called out, “Ready to go, Damien?”

Huh? Did Damien know this woman outside of class?

Damien whipped off his headset and began gathering his things. “Coming, Mum!”

…Oh. Oh. Well. That explained that, then. Damien Evans. It figured.

[cerullos]

after all this time lenu still somehow has no idea that for lila she represents everything lila could have been given the same opportunities (they are two sides of the same coin in the most literal possible sense, lenu’s failures are her own in all but name, i think lila experiences the same kind of frustration you feel when you’re in a dream & you’re forced to watch yourself make decisions you would never make in a thousand years but you’re paralyzed, helpless to stop it) and of COURSE lenu doesn’t realize this, not only because she hates herself but because she is fundamentally incapable of seeing beyond herself in any way that really matters

[inkskinned]

at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"

like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.

"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."

... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.

and i'd still keep writing.

i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.

i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley

"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"

and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.

it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.

you create because you're greedy.

[rafecameroninterlude]

⋆˙⟡♡ having a pregnancy scare wasn’t on rafe and pogue!sweetheart!reader’s to do list anytime soon.. but alas, here they are waiting to see if two pink lines will change the trajectory of their lives forever.

warnings: pregnancy, mentions of a breeding kink lol, super sweet fluff, slight humor, lots of crying

a/n: this is my not-so-subtle way of introducing babydaddy!rafe to my blog (i’ve been reading a lot of babydaddy!rafe lately.. yum) also just a reminder: pogue!sweetheart!reader is only pregnant in this fic alone. meaning any other works i create with her are not correlated with this one UNLESS stated so <3 you could keep up with this little universe under the second tag of this post: ‘₊˚⊹♡ pogue!sweetheart!reader & babydaddy!rafe’

“a-are you sure you’re late?” rafe was pacing back and forth, tears pricking your eyes as you flipped through your little calendar book. “yes! i look at my calendar everyday rafe, it’s been three weeks!” you sniffled, checking for the millionth time. rafe joined you on your bed, realizing he probably wasn’t making you feel any better if he was freaking out too. “hey..” he cupped your chin, “it’s gonna be okay, baby. what do you need me to do? ‘want me to go get some tests from the store?” you cried even more, the whole thing becoming too real all at once. “i don’t know! i don’t know what to do, ray!”

he sighed, holding you as you wept in his arms. “oh, baby,” rafe rubbed your back, “you know i’m going to take care of us, of you.” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. he wiped the tears from your eyes, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “i know.. it’s just— this is so new, and even though we don’t have a for sure answer yet, i feel like i really am. you know.. pregnant?” saying it out loud made rafe’s heart drop to his stomach. you saw the way his expression softened, his eyes flickering down to where you two held hands.

while it shouldn’t be too surprising, considering you two never use protection.. it’s still a delicate matter that rafe took very seriously. “am i gonna sound crazy if i say i hope that you are?” you took a breath, stroking the side of rafe’s face. “no. i want it too.” letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, he pulled you against his chest, embracing you once again. “why don’t we find out? ‘go to the pharmacy and get some tests?” you nodded, the anticipation already feeling unbearable. “okay.” you pulled away, getting under your knitted blanket.

“you’re not going with me?” rafe laughed. “are you joking? the owner has known me forever. if he see’s us buying a pregnancy test, he’ll—” you lowered your voice down to a whisper, “he’ll know what we’ve been doing..” your cheeks heated at the thought of the sweet old man who’s known you for all of your life checking you out for a test that indicates you’ve been doing a lot more than just baking cookies. “baby, if you didn’t live in the middle of nowhere, and far away from any kind of civilization, everyone on this island would know what we’ve been doing.” he winked.

at his words, you shooed him out of your camper as a giggle escaped your lips. he wasn’t wrong. rafe knew all the ways to make you scream and tremble in pure bliss. it felt like forever since rafe had been out, but one glance at the heart shaped clock on your wall, and it had only been ten minutes. you laid on your back, fingertips skimming your tummy. imagining a baby, half of you, and half of rafe, a result of two worlds, both full of so much love, colliding into one and making the most beautiful creation you were sure to ever see, made a smile grace your pretty face.

now you were thinking about a nursery, wondering if you’d be painting it baby pink or powder blue. either color was fine with you. sitting up, you looked around your camper, really seeing just how small it was. you and rafe barely fit in here together, let alone with a little baby that’ll eventually grow and want to run around. now you felt sad at the indication that you might have to move out of the only place you’ve ever known. this would change your life, but with rafe by your side you felt more ready than ever. just as you were going to call rafe and politely tell him to hurry up, he walked through the door.

“i wasn’t sure which one you wanted, so i just grabbed one of each.” rafe gave you the bag, plopping down next to you. there was about ten different tests in there, including a lot of the snacks you’d been craving over the last week. sour gummy bears, chocolate, and spicy chips mostly. taking out a pink box, you read the instructions before looking back at rafe who already had his full attention on you. “can you come with me?” without hesitation, rafe helped you up and guided you to the bathroom. “alright..” he leaned against the doorframe, watching as you unwrapped the test.

“i can’t really pee if you’re looking..” rafe had zoned out, thinking about house hunting already and wondering what kind of car seat would be the safest for a baby. “right, i’m sorry.” he turned around, swallowing the lump in his throat. rafe needed the confirmation just as much as you did, his stomach doing somersaults as he nervously bit his lip. “you okay?” he asked. you hummed, peeing on the stick before setting it down on a piece of toilet paper. washing your hands shortly after, you and rafe left the test in the bathroom as you waited in silence.

“my heart is beating so fast right now.” you laughed, on the verge of tears as rafe rubbed circles into the flesh of your thigh. “i want you to know something..” rafe whispered, “whatever those test results come out to; negative or positive, we’re going to be okay. i don’t want you to worry about a thing, alright?” your chin wobbled as you nodded, your head falling in the curve of his neck. you stayed quiet for the rest of the time, the timer on rafe’s phone going off. “oh, god..” you whimpered, motioning for rafe to grab the test. “don’t look at it, just bring it over!” you called out.

rafe walked back with his eyes closed, nearly bumping into the wall as his hands trembled with excitement. “where are you?” he kept his eyes screwed shut, in which you followed suit. “i’m right here.” you squeaked out, holding onto his wrists. “on three we’re gonna look down.” you nodded even though he couldn’t see you. “okay, i’m ready.” both of you smiled. “one, two, three—” both of you looked down, rafe jumping and running out of your camper as you stared down at the sight of two, very prominent, pink lines. rafe was shouting outside, the sound making you laugh as you took a seat on the couch.

“oh my god.” rafe poked his head in, your teary eyes meeting his. thankfully, he was able to read the room and calmed down a bit. “oh my god.” he repeated, kneeling down in front of you. “are you okay? are you happy?” rafe rubbed the side of your thighs, his touch providing a comfort like no other. “yes! i just can’t believe it..” you hugged him, his arms wrapping around your waist. “we have a lot of planning to do.” you sniffled, pressing a kiss to his cheek. rafe could already see it. the white house, the white picket fence, both of you were already two steps closer to your dreams becoming a reality.

“yeah, we do,” he agreed, “let’s just take it one day at a time, yeah?” you smiled, cupping his face. “i love you so much, this is crazy.” he kissed your lips before taking the test in his hands again. “a whole baby..” you were in utter disbelief. “maybe i should take the rest of the tests?” you stood up, taking the plastic bag with you to the bathroom. by the time you finished, the sun was already setting, both you and rafe staring at the approximately ten tests in front of you. all positive. “looks like we took the breeding kink a little too seriously, huh?” you looked up at rafe through his reflection in the mirror. “that was a good one.”

[irisinluv]

Isekaied as the Yandere Villain!? PT 1

All I could do was stare at my reflection. This had to be a joke. I was going to wake up in my bed, right this instant.

“FUCK!”

Ok, so, pinching myself hurts. That’s fine. This is like. Some sort of lucid dream. What do they say to do if you’re lucid dreaming? Oh, that’s right, put your finger in your palm, it’ll phase through!

I resist the urge to scream as my finger meets solid flesh.

You see, I’m not in the right body. Or the right world from what I can tell. No, I’m supposed to be back home, waking up in a panic as I realize my alarm didn’t go off cuz my phone died after I stayed up way too late reading manga.

But of course, I’m not late to work, I’m in a lavish bedchamber right out of the latest webcomic I’d been reading! And by the looks of it…. I’m the crown princes crazy fiancé! As much as I love reading about the Isekai trope, I never wanted to be in one! And come on- as the Yandere Villain!? Couldn’t this at least be original? There’s hundred of stories just like “my next life as a villainess,” why couldn’t I be like… a stable hand or something? Ugh. Ok. Think!

I need to get home. Do the protagonists ever get back home in the stories I read? I pace around my room and rack my brain over every webcomic I’ve ever read, every manga I waited in line for, every anime I binged, even the unfinished manhwas! I can’t think of a single fucking one where they get home?

Well this isn’t going to stop me. I have a cat who’s going to absolutely flip if she’s not given fresh kibble in the morning. She has enough in her bowl for another 2 days but she needs it topped off ok! She’s a princess! I can’t be stuck here! Who’s going to throw her pompom toy for her if I’m not there???

What did all these have in common? What’s the barebones trope layout? Ok let’s see

1) person either died or falls asleep and wakes up in a new world…. Check

2) person is the villain!…. Check

3) to avoid the characters terrible death, person tries to change the story, ends up being new protagonist…

Ohhh… hey…. Do these Isekai characters ever just…. Play along? Even the “reincarnated as a baby” ones, they only play along till they’re old enough to try to run away or rework the political structure of the entire city. Maybe that’s it. Make it to the books natural end, and you’ll wake up where you belong. It’s like when you get part of a song stuck in your head. Play the whole song, and it’ll get out.

Ok, I’ve trained most of my adult life for this- I can totally ace this trope! I just have to stalk the crown prince, act totally in love with him, and be a bitch to the female lead. Then my finance will leave me, I’ll do some crazy dramatic act to try to kill the female lead, and then I’ll be exiled or executed, and wake up to feed my cat. How hard can it be?

Hard. It’s very hard.

Where the hell did he go!? My fiancé, the crown prince Eric, was JUST HERE. I swear! He turned that corner back there and then went down this hall… at least I think it was this hall? Ugh! This is impossible! For someone with such loud shoes and an armed escort, you’d think he’d be easier to follow! Now my feet just hurt. They don’t make these fancy shoes to run around the castle all day. They’re meant to daintily peek from beneath my many skirts as I host a tea party or some shit.

Ok. I’ve got this! I’ll just peek into each room until I find him, maybe I can get a better feel for the layout, or maybe find his office and see if he has a schedule or a day planner or something I can use to make this whole stalking thing easier.

I begin snooping, and it’s a bit of thrill to be honest! Back in my real life, I’m the kind of person to hide a wrapper deep in the trash can if I’m babysitting, sitting on the floor playing a game on my phone after the kid goes to bed rather than “making myself at home” the way the parents insisted as they showed me how to access Netflix. I’ve never been a snooper. Now…. Well. It’s totally on brand for this character! I’m not me, I’m a psycho lovesick fool! I giggle a bit at that as my fingers trail over a shelf of beautiful pottery in some sort of sitting room.

“What’s so amusing dearest?”

I practically screech as my heart leaps to my throat and I whirl around, and see the very person I’d been searching for has snuck up on ME…. That’s so unfair!

“W-what? O-oh! Nothing! I was just- uh, admiring the pottery?”

I stutter out as I try to recall how to act like a human being while simultaneously trying to stop feeling my own pulse in my ears. The idiot has the nerve to LAUGH! Full on snort and everything!

“What are you doing in this wing anyways? Weren’t you meant to be out riding today?”

Shit. I was so busy trying to figure out his schedule, I didn’t consider maybe the body I was shoved into had a schedule of her own. Ok. Play it cool- I’ve got this!

“Yes, well, I decided I wasn’t in the mood and wanted to stay in today instead.”

His brows furrow

“Oh, but you love riding? Are you feeling ill? I can fetch the royal physician for you if you-“

“No! That’s- that’s quite alright! I simply wanted a change of schedule, that is all. Um… what about you? What are your plans for the day?”

He looked a bit surprised at that, and a small smile danced on his lips.

“I was just going to the library to do some paperwork, boring stuff really, and then of course our dinner at its regular time.”

I nod like that means anything to me. Ok think, if I were crazy in love with this man, what would I say?

“Would you like some company? Reading in the library sounds really nice, maybe we could have some tea as well?”

Ok. I’m already fucking this up. He looks confused…. God damnit …. I knew I shouldn’t have skimmed over those early chapters- but the translation was shit ok!?

“Well… I’d actually love that. But are you sure? You haven’t exactly shown interest in reading, and you’ve never requested something like this before…. In fact I don’t think I can recall the last time we’ve interacted outside of dinner or a scheduled social event in… well. Ever.”

Wait…. What? Isn’t my character like goo-goo-ga-ga over him? Are you telling me she never asks to just… spend time with her lover? They only talk during dinner and parties or whatever?

“Of course, I think it’ll be relaxing! Just lead the way!”

My brain is working overtime as I smile politely at him as we reach the library and I pretend to browse for books. I’m missing something here. What is-

Oh. Shit. That’s right. I’m supposed to be really insecure and awkward about him. That’s why she stalks him- she spends all her free time obsessing over this man from the shadows, threatening the competition…. Yet chokes up when it comes to how to act natural. Her inferiority complex is what drives her entire character. And then to him, they’re just two nobles in an arranged marriage who speak on dull subjects like the weather and horse rides…. And who barely interact.

This must have been a real big shake up, she always stays out of sight, they never run into each other by chance. And she certainly never would ask to sit and read with him…. Maybe watch him do his work from a hidden keyhole somewhere, but that’s right…. She IS more of a traditional lady with her hobbies. She was raised to be the perfect noble wife, so naturally, her hobbies include things like dancing, needlepoint, and horse riding. The only studies she’s interested in are etiquette and things that noble ladies are supposed to know.

Well…. Shit. That’s so like me to already have fucked this up. But that’s ok. That’s ok- he’s going to meet the female lead and fall in love and so I just have to be the obstacle they need to overcome. Surely the details don’t matter too much…. It’s my first day in the job ok? Not everyone’s perfect!

I find a book that honestly actually sounds interesting, it’s historical, but it’s giving Hellen of Troy, the closest to a dark romance I think I’ll get from an academic personal library like this. I settle into what looks like the comfiest chair in the central area, and begin reading. The prince and I exist comfortably, the only sound being the scratch of his pen, and the occasional rustle of paper as he flips a document or I finish a page. We continue like this for several hours until he puts down his pen and clears his throat, getting my attention.

“I know it’s a long way from dinner…. But I was thinking I’d grab something light for a mid day meal and then take a walk about the gardens …. Would you care to join me?”

Honestly, some lunch and pretty royal gardens sounds like so much fun, so I agree. As we begin walking, I ponder how I can recover from all this.

You know what.. this can totally still go to plan. This is just me being the evil villain and sinking my claws into him! The female lead will appear, and I’ll reveal my true, nasty side to her! She’ll have to fight to save the prince from his marriage to me!

*insert evil laughter!*

“You’re smiling.”

“W-what?”

“A smile. It suits you. You’ve been doing that a lot today….. I like it.”

Ok and now I’m blushing. I go to reply when I suddenly find myself weightless for a moment, and then hit the ground with a hard thump.

“Ow! What the-!?”

My eyes snap up and glare at this pretty blonde girl who just rammed into me, and sent me flying

“Do you not know how to watch where you’re going!? Owww…. Ugh.”

Ok I’m sorry I’m usually a nice and understanding person but I’ve never been literally knocked over before! Who does that to a person?

Eric helps me to my feet and sends a reproachful glare toward the girl, asking me if I’m alright with most concerned look…. And the girl gasps and says,

“C-crown prince Eric! I apologize! I’d didn’t recognize you!”

She drops into a curtsy and lowers her eyes all demure and modest as if she hadn’t just bulldozed me. I send an incredulous look toward Eric…. She… didn’t see HIM? I’m the one she took out? He gives me an equally puzzled look and so I decide, you know what, fuck it. I’m this evil person in this world…. I need to act like it!

“And not recognizing his highness is an excuse for taking out the princess consort, soon to be crown princess? Are you blind or just daft?”

Oh my god I really just called someone daft! This feels like when you stay up late thinking all the witty comebacks you could’ve used against your high school bullies, except actually using them in the moment!

And Eric is being a sweetie and letting me handle this, waiting expectantly for blondie to answer me, just prompting her,

“Well?”

“Forgive me…. Princess consort…. You are right. My oversight in inexcusable. It appears neither of us were looking where we were going. I hope we can start fresh!”

I scoff- that’s it? Who does this bitch think she is? Yes, I was looking at Eric, but I was going a walking pace, who rounds a corner with so much force that you knock someone over?

Suddenly something clicks- oh shit! This is the female lead!!!! This scene happened in the story, just without the prince here. This is good, that means this is on track. Although I gotta say- I was much more on the female main characters side when reading it. Now, I just feel like she’s one of those mean girls in high school who’s not *technically* doing anything mean. Anyways- what was I supposed to say? That’s right.

“Yes…. Well. I’m sure we won’t be seeing much of each other anyways. If you’ll excuse me-“

Nailed ittttt…. Now her line?

“Well, actually…. My name is Lady Cressida, and I’ll be staying in the place for several months as my father is a foreign ambassador overseeing trade agreements with his highness the king. So I imagine we will be seeing *plenty* of each other. That goes for you too your highness! So please- forgive me, I look forward to getting to know each of you better!”

Oh that’s so cool, seeing her recite the lines from the story. But ok- I have a role to play as well. I scoff and grab Eric’s arm, pulling him behind me as I storm off, playing the part of entitled lover, stuck up and irritated at this ambassadors daughter who DARED to speak to my love.

Yea, this will work, Eric will think Cressida is a genuine sweetie, and see me as being the unreasonable bitch who’s refusing to accept her apology, or apologize for not looking where I was going either. And now I’m manhandling him- totally unlady like. God I’m killing this aren’t I? Minimum wage job and demanding cat, here I come!

What I don’t see, as I lead Eric by the arm, is the cold glare he shoots towards Cressida, before smiling down at our connected hands, an unreadable look in his eyes.

Part 2

[sprintingowl]

Deadball

Deadball Second Edition is a platinum bestseller on DrivethruRPG. This means it's in the top 2% of all products on the site. Its back cover has an endorsement from Sports Illustrated Kids.

It's also not an rpg I'd heard about until I discovered all of these facts one after another.

I was raised in a profoundly anti-sports household. My father would say stuff like "sports is for people who can't think" and "there's no point in exercising, everything in your body goes away eventually." So I didn't learn really any of the rules of the more popular American sports until I was in my mid twenties, and I've been to two ballgames in my life. I appreciate the enthusiasm that people have for sports, but it's in the same way that I appreciate anyone talking about their specific fandom.

One of the things that struck me reading Deadball was its sense of reverence for the sport. Its language isn't flowery. It's plain and technical and smart. But its love for baseball radiates off of the pages. Not like a blind adoration. But like when a dog sits with you on the porch.

For folks familiar with indie rpgs, there's a tone throughout the book that feels OSR. Deadball doesn't claim to be a precise simulation or a baseball wargame or anything like that---instead it lays out a bunch of rules and then encourages you to treat them like a recipe, adjusting to your taste. And it does this *while* being a detailed simulation that skirts the line of wargaming, which is an extremely OSR thing to do.

For folks not familiar with baseball, Deadball starts off assuming you know nothing and it explains the core rules of the sport before trying to pin dice and mechanics onto anything. It also explains baseball notation (which I was not able to decipher) and it uses this notation to track a play-by-play report of each game. Following this is an example of play and---in a move I think more rpgs should steal from---it has you play out a few rounds of this example of play. Again, this is all before it's really had a section explaining its rules.

In terms of characters and stats, Deadball is a detailed game. You can play modern or early 1900s baseball, and players can be of any gender on the same team, so there's a sort of alt history flavor to the whole experience, but there's also an intricate dice roll for every at bat and a full list of complex baseball feats that any character can have alongside their normal baseball stats. Plus there's a full table for oddities (things not normally covered by the rules of baseball, such as a raccoon straying onto the field and attacking a pitcher,) and a whole fatigue system for pitchers that contributes a strong sense of momentum to the game.

Deadball is also as much about franchises as it is about individual games, and you can also scout players, trade players, track injuries, track aging, appoint managers of different temperaments, rest pitchers in between games, etc.

For fans of specific athletes, Deadball includes rules for creating players, for playing in different eras, for adapting historical greats into one massively achronological superteam, and for playing through two different campaigns---one in a 2020s that wasn't and one in the 1910s.

There's also thankfully a simplified single roll you can use to abstract an entire game, allowing you to speed through seasons and potentially take a franchise far into the future. Finances and concession sales and things like that aren't tracked, but Deadball has already had a few expansions and a second edition, so this might be its next frontier.

Overall, my takeaway from Deadball is that it's a heck of a game. It's a remarkably detailed single or multiplayer simulation that I think might work really well for play-by-post (you could get a few friends to form a league and have a whole discord about it,) and it could certainly be used to generate some Blaseball if you start tweaking the rules as you play and never stop.

It's also an interesting read from a purely rpg design perspective. Deadball recognizes that its rules have the potential to be a little overbearing and so it puts in lots of little checks against that. It also keeps its more complex systems from sprawling out of control by trying to pack as much information as possible into a single dice roll.

For someone like me who has zero background in baseball, I don't think I'd properly play Deadball unless I had a bunch of friends who were into it and I could ride along with that enthusiasm. However as a designer I like the book a lot, and I'm putting it on my shelf of rpgs that have been formative for me, alongside Into The Odd, Monsterhearts, Mausritter, and Transit.

[sqtorux]

saying somethin' stupid like 'i love you'

fwb!gojo saying the forbidden L word during the deed ????

slightly nsfw, minors please don't interact. also fluff bc i miss gojo :(

not proof read !

thankyou so much for all the support on my recent ♡

satoru thinks you're so cruel. one minute you're holding onto him, nails digging into his back as if you needed him to live.

chanting his name so so beautifully as he trapped you between his bare body and the bed, relentlessly thrusting into you.

and then the next you were back to acting like even his mere existence irritated you. in a way it does but not in the way he thinks.

not once had you been there the morning after. only the crumpled sheets and your nail marks served as reminders that you were here, with him.

“gojo can you not-”

“that wasn't what you called me last night. what happened to toru?”

you glare daggers at him as one of his hand held your notebook high up. he was ridiculously tall and he liked abusing that privilege. especially against you.

“shut up” you walk past him without bothering to take your book.

“hey you mad baby?” he chuckled, getting in front of you, stopping you again.

“come on, answer me. why'd you leave? i thought we agreed to go to class together hmm?”

you roll your eyes at him and crossed your arms.

“that's what you said. i didn't agree.”

“aw you're too mean” he pouted as you scowl and try passing him again only to be stopped by his hand on your arm.

“i wanted you to stay.” his words were heavy, his face not showing even the slightest bit of his shit eating grin he always has on.

he turns to you, his round sunglasses were low on his nose and you could see his oh so beautiful eyes.

you look away because if you don't, you were pretty sure you'd be hypnotised and you'd do whatever he wanted.

“if you keep doing this i won't stay over anymore.” your words shot a painful jab at your own abdomen. his grip around you loosened slowly until he lets go completely.

“alright then.” he hands you your notebook, more like placed them into your arms as he walked away, eyes never meeting yours.

the next ‘sleepover’ took place three days after the banter with satoru. he hadn't called or texted the whole time but when you asked if he was up for it, he replied almost immediately.

so here you were again, him ramming into you as you cling onto his bare body for dear life. you could feel your climax coming as your grip grew tighter and tighter.

satoru was the same, chasing his high. he had missed you a lot the past three days but tried distancing himself just so his feelings for you would simmer down.

it only resulted him thinking about you all day and even more during the night. he finds himself wishing you were here with him, either giving you the pleasure you both agreed upon or just you laying down next to him. he didn't care.

he just wanted you to be there. with him.

and now that you are, his heart clenches the way you clench around him as the both of you cummed simultaneously.

he holds your body tight as you both work your way through the orgasm, euphoria rushing through both your veins.

“fuck y/n…” he groaned as he felt your grip loosen. he can't let you go just yet.

“i love you”

he hadn't meant to say it really. not like this at least.

“satoru we've been through this-” you push him weakly but he stays grounded, eyes boring into yours.

“i mean it.” he says, one of his hands found themselves caressing your cheeks as the other supported him while he hovered above you.

“you don't have to say it back or… feel it back…” satoru's voice was full of emotion.

“but just give me a chance to show you how much i love you. then we can work things out from there.”

you find yourself falling into the charms of gojo satoru. it's not everyday he offers his heart to someone. he doesn't offer it at all but now here he is, handing it to you on a silver platter.

“alright”

you could see satoru's face visibly light up and his blue eyes gleammed. he leaned down to place a soft kiss on your lips.

“thankyou” he traced his fingers on your jaw, his touch so soft, so addicting.

“you better treat me like a princess” you chuckle as he physically melted at the sound.

“oh i plan to do exactly that, and more, lovely.” he leaned down to place another kiss on your lips.

[jnece-maharlika]

Pt2Danny Accidentally becomes the Ghost king, the president and the biggest threat to Bruce's social status.

Pt 1 link:

Part 2 Danny becomes the president.

Amity Parkers are the most adaptable people in the world. They're barely fazed by anything.

If you throw them into a situation that they are very unfamiliar with, it'll only take them five minutes to adjust before they start planning on how to live with this situation.

The Amity Parker mindset is: "Oh, I guess this is happening now."

So when the ghosts start attacking? The Amity Parkers immediately look for ways to avoid and protect themselves from the ghosts, not even questioning why ghosts are real. The only thing they think about is, "Damn, there's a ghost. I hope it doesn't attack the theater; I really want to see that movie."

When Phantom had his debut as a hero? The Amity Parkers started looking for ways to help, ways to keep out of his way (some to try and keep him away). The thought running through their minds was, "So this one is trying to protect us? Guess we have a hero now."

Amity Parkers don't spend their time getting mad at the sudden change of routine, the sudden loss of normalcy, or the broken buildings. Amity Parkers don't ask why and how ghosts are real, don't question if all ghosts are evil or if there are some good ghosts, and don't even think of how to get rid of them completely (they're part of the community now). They only look for ways to keep themselves from getting overshadowed. They definitely don't spend time thinking if the ghosts could bring more danger in the future or looking for more information for possible contingency plans. They aren't Batman; they believe that if the present is good, then the future will be better.

Point is, Amity Parkers are resilient and adaptable. They will take everything in stride and focus on the present. So what if some ghosts attack and block the street? They need to get to work, so they'll just drive around it.

After the whole Pariah Dark thing, they become liminal, gaining some form of super strength and glowing eyes (symptoms vary based on how strong the radiation on a person is). A normal human would think, "OH MY GOD, I'M DYING!" The Amity Parkers went, "Oh, cool, this is cool, but now I'm having a problem with opening doors without breaking the knob. Maybe the Fentons could do something about it, make stronger knobs or something."

When some babies started gaining some inhuman features? Some start floating? (Sharper ears, fangs. Babies adapt to things faster, so they get more ecto radiation.) The Amity parents went, "Is there a way to keep my child on the ground without leashing them like a dog?" Then proceeded to make a help blog for other Amity parents dealing with the same things.

So when the ghosts start becoming more of the community rather than enemies, the Amity Parkers just shrugged and asked for a book of ghost customs so they don't accidentally offend them.

When the Fentons started making ghost and human-safe items, no one even questioned why Danny had so much money and was funding his parents' research.

When Danny's name was almost (if not) in everything and he seemed to own most of the town, no one questioned it.

But everything changed when the GIW came again. Even the Amity Parkers weren't expecting this change.

The GIW waltzed in, claiming the liminal town was theirs to play with and started attacking everyone, including the Amity Parkers. The Amity Parkers went full defense mode, protecting the ghosts that were now their friends/neighbors/lovers, making sure that nothing would harm them.

They learned that it was Vlad who called on the GIW. He was pissed and petty that the crown was taken from him and decided to report his liminal town, pretending to be a "concerned mayor" who "wants his people to be healed."

The Amity Parkers were mad... they were furious.

And in the moment they saw Phantom fall to the ground, unconscious, and watched him de-transform from the hero King Phantom to the kid that owns and funds the most helpful companies in town, something changed. Something in the Amity Parkers changed.

Keep in mind that Amity Parkers don't change; they remain the same as they adapt to whatever change the world throws at them.

NEVER ONCE HAD THE AMITY PARKERS DECIDED TO MAKE A CHANGE THEMSELVES.

The first thing they changed? Their mentality. NEVER AGAIN WERE THEY GOING TO LET OUTSIDE FACTORS CHANGE THEIR LIVES. THIS IS THEIR TOWN AND IT WILL STAY THAT WAY.

God help the GIW for being their first victims.

An angry town of liminals, ghosts, and borderline gods, who have access to the Fentons' very destructive and effective technology.

Vs.

The regular GIW humans with anti-ghost tech they stole from the Fentons and nothing against liminals.

The battle was a swift victory, destroying not only the GIW in town but also all of its branches (and Vlad) with almost no traces of them even existing in the first place.

The change didn't stop there, however.

The Amity Parkers banded together with Team Phantom and the Fentons (minus Danny, as he is healing and shouldn't know about their plans; the hero should rest) and took out some of that ghost king money that Danny's trying to get rid of. They crashed the UN meeting while kidnapping the president of America.

The Amity Parkers have decided that Amity Park is theirs; it belongs to the people and its heroes. But how is it supposed to be truly theirs if they have to follow the rules of the country that funded the GIW?

A couple of death threats, bribing, more death threats and more money bribing to make sure the anti ecto acts are gone and the League of Bitches (Phantom called the JL that, and the Amity Parkers decided it was true) doesn't know about it, and a couple of hours in the nightmare realm (courtesy of Fright Knight, who happily participated when he found out what happened), and Amity Park was now its own independent country.

They decided that Tucker was to be a main part of security, letting him put up another firewall like the GIW did to make sure no one knows about their country. They don't want the League of Bitches or any outsider in the King's Haunt. It's theirs now; it belongs to the Ghost King of Amity Park, outsiders be gone.

And when it came to deciding who would be leader? There was no hesitation as they wrote down:

Daniel "Danny Phantom" Fenton, King of the Infinite Realms, King and President of Amity Park.

___________________

A couple of years later, Batman, finding hints of a "Lazarus pit" in Illinois, send Flash to look around for anything suspicious. Flash, hyper focused on following his gps, hits a wall, literally faceplants into it.He double checks his map, the wall wasn't supposed to be there. He goes around it, there no way in, no way out. He goes back to batman and reports.

Pt3 soon.

Tags as requested

@nana-mizu-shiki

@talia-scar123

[selenitesdawn]

Temperance (1/3)

pairing: wanda maximoff x female!reader plot: Your best friend Kate convinced you to do charity work in Sokovia with some of your old classmates, including your former bully Vision and his girlfriend Wanda Maximoff, who you inconveniently took too much of a liking in. warnings: 18+ !! minors dni. wanda is with vision... also, suggestive content I guess word count: 1115

Patience is a virtue. Patience is the solution. These have been your only thoughts for days now. From a self-imposed affirmation to a recurring echo in your head, this reminder is all you had to get through the situation at hand. What else could you do? Keep trying to ignore your desire? The craving that has kept you awake for days and nights?

The thing is, you may be able to trick your brain for a while. Convince yourself that the way her nose wrinkles when she grins doesn't do anything to you. That the way her middle and ring finger draw the same patterns over and over again on the pages of her book whenever she is deep in thought, doesn't stir something inside of you. That the muffled moans coming from her and Vision's room at night don't bother you. Your brain has managed to lie to itself for a long time, but you can no longer ignore what Wanda is doing to you. So instead of denying your feelings, you decided that you have to sit through them. Until you can finally leave this place.

You weren't planning on pining after your old classmate's girlfriend, but here you were. Miles away from home, locked up with the constant reminder that you can never be with Wanda the way you want to. Originally, the three months in Sokovia were supposed to fulfill you. You just wanted to take care of the local street dogs with your best friend Kate. Do something good. That was it.

“Come on y/n, you've always had a heart for street animals,” your best friend said to you at the time. Back then she turned up at your door without a warning and told you about this great trip Vision had planned.

“Kate, I barely got anything done last semester. I can't waste another one. Besides, my boss never gives me that long of a vacation.”

You knew Kate wouldn't leave your apartment until you said yes. You could tell by the way her eyes were gleaming. How she slightly bend over the table you were sitting at, her gaze not leaving you for one second. Of course, the whole thing is much easier for Kate. Her mother is filthy rich. Kate can basically do whatever she wants. She could disappear for one year, travel the world with money she didn't earn and wouldn't have to worry about her life back home for one moment. You don't have that luxury.

“Think about it. First of all, you do something that fulfills you. Besides, I know you y/n. You haven't wanted to work in that rancid bakery for months. We'll find something new for you afterwards. Not to mention that volunteering to help street dogs for three months looks great on your CV. Plus: I heard Vision rented a mansion”

Vision. The name alone triggered something in you. Vision is not only the son of the famous billionaire Tony Stark, but also a giant asshole. Before Vision knew you were friends with Kate, he took every opportunity to trigger you in some way. Like standing in front of your locker with his group of followers for no reason, just so you couldn't get to it. The worst thing he ever did was probably when he stole your notebook and read out loud in class what you had written about your former classmate Natasha. Some cheesy and cringe poem you managed to suppress from your memories. From that day on, it wasn't just the whole school that knew you liked women. You also were never able to look Natasha in the eye again. But Vision somehow always managed to come out of it okay. His reputation was disgustingly squeaky clean.

“It's so weird imagining Vision doing something voluntarily that doesn't serve only himself. Are you sure he isn't just joking?,” you had asked back then.

“I think he has really changed since high school. Besides, his girlfriend is originally from Sokovia and I think it was her idea? I don't know for sure. But please, y/n, join me. I'd do anything to spend more than an hour a week with my best friend. And this is a once in a lifetime opportunity! Vision specifically asked if you want to join.”

You've never been able to deny Kate a wish. But also, it's never led you into such a miserable situation before. So this is where you were. In a villa far too grand for it to feel like a prison. Besides Vision, Wanda and Kate, there were two other old classmates; Steve and Bucky. Living together turned out to be easier than you thought, especially considering the fact that Vision was there. But your feelings for Wanda kept causing you problems. Whenever the redhead came near you, you started to stumble over your words. One long look alone could throw you completely off balance. But it was even worse when she smiled at you. When she listened to you and her head slightly tilted at the same time. Or when you were cooking and she suddenly appeared behind you, her hand softly placed around your waist and her head set down on your shoulder.

“What are you blessing us with this evening?,” she inquired with an almost teasing tone in her voice.

Before you were able to even articulate anything, she took her free hand, slid it along your arm and took the wooden spoon out of your hand.

“May I?,” her voice dangerously low, as she already moved the spoon towards her mouth, looking straight at you. You just gulped and managed a small nod as Wanda put the spoon in her mouth, her gaze never leaving you as she sucked it clean. Her green eyes were barely visible as her dilated pupils covered them almost completely. A soft moan escaped from her lips as she handed the spoon back to you.

“You're so good at this y/n,” Wanda groans, her hand which still holds onto your waist making its way to your lower back, smoothly slipping under your loose t-shirt. The cold rings on her fingers on your warm skin immediately sent shivers down your spine. Her pinky slightly slipped under the waistband of your sweatpants before she left you standing alone in the kitchen.

She must do this on purpose. There is no other way.

You thought to yourself. But what was the use? Either you are right and she does it on purpose or you are wrong and project your fantasies onto her. In both cases, it is best to simply stay away from Wanda. Because there is no way you don't end up completely fucked. Right?

: Part 2

[eddiethebrave]

secret admirer part twenty-two

759 words

one two three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven twelve thirteen fourteen fifteen sixteen seventeen eighteen nineteen twenty twenty-one

Eddie do you ever think about what you’re gonna do after high school? like how am i expected to know what i want to do with my life? i mean, i have another year to think about it but not that much can change in a year you probably wanna do something with music, right? make it big with your band and have people screaming your songs i’d go to every show if i could be your own personal groupie who knows? maybe that’s my calling p.s. have a good time at hellfire tonight i hope you win !!!!! -H

You’d think the win last night would put him in high spirits, and it did. At first. He celebrated with the guys, passed on the get together someone suggested, and drove home feeling proud. It was when he was laying in bed, though, that he started thinking. When he graduates, how often will he be able to ride a high like that? From pure accomplishment?

Steve puts on a brave face for morning practice. He doesn’t wanna drag anyone down with him. He goes through the motions of accepting congratulations and pats on the back from his peers and teachers alike all morning long. 

It only makes him think, though. 

Seriously, what comes after this? More school? Does he accept that internship at his father’s soul sucking company? Does he get a gob and jump right into adulthood?

What it really comes down to is the fact that Steve had never thought he’d have a future. Honestly. He’s getting closer and closer everyday to the next stage in his life, though. The years snuck up on him and now he has to deal with it. 

On a lesser scale, Steve doesn’t like thinking about what life will be like once Eddie graduates this coming May. How is Steve meant to tolerate this hellhole without him? Sure, he’d gone years without really noticing him, but now that he knows what it’s like to have a taste of him in his life, he doesn’t think he could go back. 

The whole thing makes his pulse quicken and sweat begin to bead at his hairline. By the time he makes it to art class, there’s a tension forming at his temples and he’s not looking forward to the headache. He doesn’t think he has it in him to act like everything’s normal. 

For once, Carol doesn’t acknowledge his foul mood. She’s too busy staring at Robin. For the portrait, of course. 

The teacher had informed them today the class is basically a free period and they can choose what to work on or what to not work on. 

Steve sits slumped over the table with his head resting on his folded arms. He kind of wishes Eddie hadn’t put the divider up and also that he had his sunglasses so he could stare at him without feeling weird about it. 

Instead, he rests his eyes and tunes into the sounds of pencil on paper surrounding him. He dozes for a while and has nearly fallen asleep when he’s awoken with a poke to his cheek. 

Steve peels his eyes open, but no one seems to be wanting his attention. There is, however, a piece of paper placed next to his left arm. 

It’s a drawing. 

A stick figure with tall swoopy hair and eerily realistic eyes. 

Steve looks to his left, only to find the culprit still hard at work with his face tucked behind the divider. 

Steve visually fills in the blank and surmises Eddie’s smile probably matches his own. 

Steve doesn’t dare fold the paper. He tucks it into the notebook he has to keep it safe. Throughout the rest of the day, he opens the book just to look at it. When he takes it home, he tapes it to a wall in his bedroom, somewhere he can always see it. 

Eddie did i ever tell you how sweet it is that your club has matching tees? i haven’t seen anyone who doesn’t do sports or the school band have a uniform but it makes sense that other clubs would, too you look good in black, don’t get me wrong, but GOD i thought i was gonna die the first time i saw yours so thanks for that also, while we’re on the subject of how hot you are,  you should wear your hair up more often p.s. sorry about the existential crisis on friday i wasn’t doing too good but i got a pick-me-up eventually <3 -H

twenty-three

tag list (closed)

@sofadofax @noodle-shenaniganery @queenie-ofthe-void @friendlyneighborhoodgaycousin @devondespresso

@dreamingtheimpossibe @plutoshelm @jaywhohasthegay @scarlet-malfoy @hotluncheddie

@dreamy-jeans137 @justdrugsformethanks @estrellami-1 @travelingtwentysomething @sleepy-steve

@wheneverfeasible @bisexual-and-broke @lil-gremlin-things @n0-1-important @xxbottlecapx

@tinyplanet95 @dannys-guilt-ridden-cockroach @theohohmoment @corvus-perplexus @hippieg1rl420

@blurryjoji @bookbinderbitch @arthurianace @dragonmama76 @thesuninyaface

@tillystealeaves @p0lybl4nkk @sageclipse @mugloversonly @chameleonhair

@thedragonsaunt @yesdangerpls @sanctumdemunson @slv-333 @loguine-linguine

@resident-gay-bitch @anaibis @moomkin77 @thrashbatx @salchica

@flustratedcas @ajeff855 @nerdyglassescheeseychick @pearynice @imaginary-maggie-waggie

[slytherinshua]

ALL MY LOVE

genre. fluff. boyfriend headcanons. warnings. minghao dreams abt marriage and starting a family. not proofread and written while i'm sick and have half a braincell so i'm rly sorry if this is a mess. pairing. minghao x fem!reader. wc. 558. request. no. a/n. babe wake up slytherinshua is back skdjskd GOD IM SO HAPPY I WAS ABLE TO WRITE SOMETHING FINALLY 😭😭 thought this blog was literally gonna die cause writers block was so strong. also surprised it ended up being svt that broke through my block esp minghao but yk ill take it no complaints !!!!

boyfriend!minghao who’s a gentle, slow lover. he never rushes, but he also never leaves you with any doubt. he can read you like a book, and any concerns on your mind seem to be instantly resolved before you even have time to bring them up. he’s steady and true; your rock that you always know you can fall back on when things get tough. no matter what, he’ll always be there. he gives you a soft passionate type of love that you would never get tired of even after decades. 

boyfriend!minghao who’s always been ambitious. he has dozens of things he’d like to do and achieve, but he also knows how to take life slow and enjoy the present. he knows he has time to do everything he wants, and he reminds you that you also have plenty of time as well. sometimes you need that extra voice to tell you that it’s okay to take a break sometimes. it’s okay to breathe and think. no matter what, minghao will always be your biggest supporter— always rooting for you to strive and reach your goals, even if they are small.

boyfriend!minghao who helps you relax after a long day. warm tea and a massage are enough to put your mind and body at ease. his hands work like magic over your neck, shoulders, and back. it’s so good, in fact, that you feel guilty for not paying him for his service. he would never accept anything like that from you, though. once he’s done working out the knots for 20 minutes, he’d fall on top of you, giggling into the crook of your neck as he acts like your personal weighted blanket.

boyfriend!minghao who has a whole collection of couple items with you over the years. whether it be clothes, jewelry, or even mugs, everything he buys seems to come in a set of two. he can’t even imagine buying something for just himself anymore when you always seem to cross his mind whenever he spots something cute.

boyfriend!minghao who scolds you (but truly only out of love). his attention to detail and observant nature is both his strength and his flaw. he’s quick with his tongue— too quick— and will catch himself lecturing or correcting you when it wasn’t strictly needed. although it’s rare for his scolding to get on your nerves, as you know its a way he shows that he cares about you and loves you, it sometimes does. but he’s quick with his apologies as well, so no bickering between you two can ever last long. 

boyfriend!minghao who is so happy and secure in your relationship. he knows he’s found the one with you, and now that he’s been able to call you his for years, there’s no way he would ever be able to imagine his life without you. the overwhelming fondness he holds for you plants itself in his head and his heart and always has him thinking about your future together. he’d tell you randomly over tea how much he’s been thinking and dreaming about spending the rest of his life with you. whether it be big milestones like your wedding and starting a family, or smaller ones like waking up in each others arms each morning, he’s excited to experience it all with you.

↳ svt taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @kangtaehyunzzz,, @eternalgyu,, @ddeonudepressions,, @hannahsophie0103,, @minholing,,

@shuabby1994,, @icyminghao,, @98-0603,, @weird-bookworm,, @candewlsy,,

@wonwooz1,, @blossominghunnie,, @haecien,, @amara-mars,, @okshu,,

@parkjennykim,, @wootify,, @svtoose,, @seunghancore,, @ujisworld,,

@heavenfilm,, @sobun1est,, @bananabubble,, @talkingsaxy,, @thesunsfullmoon,,

@talking-saxy,, @nicholasluvbot,, @cupidslovearrows,, @50-husbands,, @hursheys,,

@gong-fourz,, @nonononranghaee,, @forever-atiny

[rosenclaws]

Hi! 👋

I saw your requests were open and I was wondering if I could submit a request?

The reader is a shy artist who is a friend of Wades. She carries a sketchbook with her everywhere to sketch new pieces, but she doesn't show her work to people unless it's to Wade.

She and Worst!Logan become friends and slowly develop feelings for one another, but they won't say anything to each other because they think that the other wouldn't want them. Until Worst!Logan finds her sketchbook by accident and finds the book is filled with sketches of him. Worst!Logan confronts her about it, but she's a stuttering mess, and they end up confessing to each other. And please make it extra fluffy. Maybe throw in a kiss or a makeout session. Your choice lol.

Thank you and have a good day! 😊

Hidden Feelings and Hidden Sketches || Worst!Logan Howlett x Reader

warnings: drinking, swearing, wade making suggestive comments, make out sesh towards the end, reader gets drunk and logan helps her out. Logan also calls the reader sketch. It got kinda suggestive at the end I apologize sldfjka

a/n: Hi!! This idea is adorable omg I love it, I hope it was fluffy enough for you I have to admit I'm not great at writing pure fluff. I also hope wade is funny because I am not funny so its hard to write his dialogue sometimes. I also altered the plot a little so i hope its okay

You never quite understood how you and Wade became friends. He was possibly the biggest extrovert you have ever met and you were the exact opposite. He saw you once at his favorite diner with your sketchbook and he jumped into the seat across from you.

Yapping on about your art and if you drew often and that he once tried to paint but the class didn't appreciate his art and asking if you'd paint him naked as a present for his girlfriend. Which you declined very quickly.

He wouldn't leave you alone, talking and asking you all sorts of things. You getting a few words in and him covering the other 98% of the conversation. He left with the promise of seeing you again and disappeared before you could say anything else.

It was an odd experience that's for sure but you liked Wade. Sure enough he kept coming back and a friendship had blossomed. He invited you over to dinner multiple times but you always declined, choosing to meet at the diner instead.

Slowly he got you out of your shell around him. Cracking jokes and sometimes putting him in his place when he went a little too far. You showed him your sketchbook after a while and he gushed over your drawings. Begging you to draw him at his best angles and you would sometimes give in.

When he disappeared for a while you got worried, that is until he showed up with a new dog and a very handsome new friend. You couldn't take your eyes off of him. Wade spotted you and waved but you didn't even notice.

"I know right, he's like a tall glass of rage filled water." Wade sighs as he sits across from you.

"I uh what?" You hug your sketchbook close to your chest as you rip your eyes away from Wade's new friend.

"Oh don't pretend like you weren't eye fucking him the second he walked in here, not that I blame you." Your eyes widen as you start to stutter. Your face heating up as you stare at the pancakes in front of you instead. A loud grunt catches your attention. You can barely meet his eyes as your brain is too busy being embarrassed by what Wade had said.

"You can sit on my lap angel cakes." Wade pats his leg but gets shoved to the side as his new friend sits down across from you.

"Logan this is my friend, be a good kitty and play nice." Logan rolls his eyes and chooses to ignore Wade. He does look at you though, burning a whole through your skull.

"Hi Logan," You say shyly.

"Hi." A few beats of silence pass until Wade breaks it as usual.

"Well aren't you two the life of the party, if you excuse me I have to go relieve myself." Wade stands up and instead of asking Logan to move, starts to climb over the man.

"What the fuck?!" Logan hisses as he grabs Wades shirt and tosses him to the ground. You can't help the laugh that escapes your mouth as your friend flops to the ground.

"So rude." Wade shakes his head and heads off to the bathroom. Silence falls once again as you awkwardly push around the pancakes on your plate.

"What's that?" Logan asks, nodding towards your sketchbook. You grab your book and shove it into your bag.

"Nothing! It's uh, just a sketchbook it's nothing don't worry about it." Logan raises an eyebrow as you panic in front of him.

As if you couldn't feel more embarrassed. You debate on waiting for wade or just leaving to save yourself but Logan makes the choice for you.

"You don't have to stay, not holding you hostage." He sips his coffee as you let out a shaky laugh.

"Not much of a talker." You play with your fork as you look up at Logan. He's much more handsome up close.

"Neither am I." He offers a small half smile and you return it. He's still incredibly intimidating but maybe you can stick it out a little longer. Logan's food comes and the two of you eat in a comfortable silence and when you're done you work up the courage if he'll be here tomorrow. He holds the door open for you as you step outside.

You clutch tightly onto the strap of your bag as you wait for his answer. He lights a cigar and you try and suppress your smile when he says he will be. As you part ways you realize that Wade never did come back from the bathroom.

That sneaky bastard.

-on

The diner uh, meetings as you called them, with Logan were amazing. His grumpy exterior was hard to crack but eventually the two of you started to become friends. Being with Logan started to become your favorite parts of the week. He was more than the tough guy persona he put on. What surprised you the most is that he seemed interested in you too. Well you know as friends.

Logan could appreciate someone who liked the quiet. He never pushed you out of your comfort zone, never made you feel uncomfortable. He was just Logan. Call it what you want but it was only a matter of time before you fell head over heels for that man. Not that you'd ever tell him.

How could you?

He's a superhero. He's gorgeous and grumpy and funny and so much more. All you do is draw silly pictures. So for now you settle on friends. Even if he makes your stomach turn with ever smile. Even if his laugh is the best thing you've ever heard. Friends. That's good enough for now.

-

"Wade Wilson I am going to kill you!" You say angrily.

He had texted you asking you to meet him for coffee and you had agreed solely because you never got the chance to scold him for his little dine and dash.

"Leaving me alone with a stranger!" You slap his hand as he tries to reach for your pastry.

"Ow! That was so five months ago! Anyways I was just trying to help. You know, relieve the sexual tension." You gasp as he makes a very lewd gesture with his hands.

"Besides, you and Logi bear are spending a lot of time together for just being friends huh Boo-Boo." Before you can stop him he reaches for your sketchbook. Keeping it just out of reach as he flips through the pages.

"Give it back!" You plead as you reach across the table.

"Oh. My. God. How come you never draw me this sexy?" He shows you the pages and you fall back into your seat in defeat.

You know what's in there and now Wade does too. Pages and pages of sketches of Logan. You feel like a stalker. It's not your fault! Ever since you met him he's all you can think about. All you can draw.

"Please give it back." You beg but he refuses.

"You'll get it back after you admit to Logan how you feel."

"What!" Your jaw drops as you make another lunge for your book.

"I am a very impatient man and I'm not about to wait another thousand words for the two of you to fuck." He stands up and tucks the book down his pants.

"Ew really?" You groan as you let your face fall into your hands.

"I'm having a get together and you're invited. Logan will be there it's the perfect opportunity." You feel like throwing up at the idea of talking to Logan about any of this.

Maybe you could just steal it back tonight. Or maybe you could never show your face to anyone ever again. Yah the second option sounds better. If only it was that simple. You waited for many anxiety filled hours, the only thing on your mind is getting your damn book back. You knock on the door and it swings open with Wade standing there, a stupid smile on his face.

"Honey badger at 4 o'clock." He hands you a drink and pushes you right towards him. You shoo him away, taking a deep breath and head towards Logan.

"Hi Logan," You say nervously.

"Didn't think these were really your thing." He says with a smile. You laugh nervously and nod your head.

"Yeah well...I thought he'd finally stop asking if I came to one of these things." You joke. Logan snorts and offers you the seat next to him.

"Good luck with that." You sit next to him and swirl around the ice in your drink.

If you're going to tell him then you're going to need a lot of help. Logan's eyes widen as you down your drink in one go, making a face before asking for another one. He's never seen you at a party, let alone drink.

"Why don't you take it easy there sketch."

"It's a party right, why not have a little fun." Logan keeps an eye on you as you drink and drink. As the night passes on he realizes that you might have had a little too much. You can barely get a sentence out by the time the party's over.

"Hi Logii!" Your arms slink around his neck as you stumble into him.

"Come on, let me take you home." He chuckles as he helps you to the door.

"Nooo, I needa get my uh..." You stop and think for a moment.

"My uhhh" Logan hums as he helps you to your apartment. You stay close to Logan as you walk through the night. He's just so warm and he smells so good.

"Got your keys?" You pat around for them and frown. Logan reaches into your bag and pulls them out.

"Right here." He unlocks your door and helps you to your bed. You sigh as your head hits your pillow.

"Oh! my sketchbook. Wade has my sketchbook." You say with a yawn.

"I'll get it back tomorrow, now sleep well." Logan takes off his jacket and lays it on you. He brushes your cheek gently. A soft smile on his face as he leaves you to sleep peacefully.

"Good night."

-

God your head hurt and the sun was way too bright. You crack your eyes open groan as you head pounds. What were you even thinking last night? You wanted your damn book back that's what you were thinking. A loud knock on your door makes you moan in pain. Getting up you swing open your door only to be met with Logan holding your book. Your face pales as you see a smirk on his face.

"Wade gave me back your book." You reach out for it but he holds it back.

"You're a real good artist sketch." To your horror he opens up your book and flips to one of its pages.

Right in front of you was a side profile sketch of Logan. It had been while you were at the park or something. The sun was hitting him perfectly, he had this content look on his face. You couldn't help but draw it when you got back home. To capture him in a moment where everything felt okay.

"I uh..I.." You don't know what to say. He caught you red handed. Your face is on fire from shame and embarrassment as he finally hands over your book. You can't even look at him.

"I'm sorry." You whisper. Shutting your eyes you hope he gets the hint and leaves, leaves you to wallow in pity.

"Sorry? Why are you sorry." He grabs your chin and tilts your head up.

"I'm flattered sketch. I think you really captured me pretty good." You still can't bring yourself to say anything as you hug your book tightly. You can't tell if he's making fun of you or what.

"This isn't funny Logan." You try and push his hand off you but his grip is strong.

"Not trying to be funny." He brushes his thumb over your lips.

"Logan..." Your eyes flick down to his lips and you know he catches you.

"Say it, come on don't be shy. Not with me." Sighing you dig your fingernails into your book.

"I love you." Your voice is barely above a whisper, eyes squeezing shut. You almost hope he doesn't hear it but of course he does.

He presses his lips to yours roughly. You drop your book in shock as you melt deep into his kiss. Wasting no time in kissing him back, hands wrapping around his neck to pull him closer. He deepens the kiss as his hands fall to your sides. You pull away much to his disappointment, his lips chasing after yours for a moment.

"I love you too." He kisses your jaw lightly making you sigh.

"You know, those drawings were good but I think you got my lips wrong." You furrow you eyebrows, you thought you got his lips pretty good. After all you stared at them long enough to memorize them.

"Yeah sweetheart, think you need a lesson." He walks you back until you hit your couch.

"Get up close and personal." He winks as you bite your lip. How flustered can he make you?

"Then maybe you can show me more of those drawings."

Well, If it would help make your drawings more, accurate. Then who are you to say no?

"Okay." You run your hands along his arm as you look back up at him. Nerves and excitement swirling around your eyes.

"Don't worry sketch, I'm a pretty good teacher."

[blughxreader]

platonic yandere batfam thoughts...

how you end up integrating into the family.

I think we often forget how insidious the long-term effects of kidnapping are. Your whole world narrows and you have nothing fulfilling outside of them.

Realistically, how many weeks straight can you do nothing but look at your phone/watch TV? I know we do this every day, but we have school/work/friends/family to provide actual fulfillment and joy. But when you take that away? And have to decide whether you should scroll through monitored social media or talk to your captors?

Especially because the TV doesn't distract from the cold, hard gaze of the surveillance cameras in your room.

Even if you read and craft and cook, it's so difficult to keep your mental health in-tact without having a positive interaction with another human being.

It would start small.

It's morning and Cass smiles at you from across the breakfast table. Not wanting to be rude, you smile tightly back.

Jason wordlessly slides you a book. You take it.

After a few months, you feel slightly more comfortable about taking up space in the manor. Alfred is out of town for the weekend, so you make a sandwich with Tim.

Bruce talks to you about the new scientific breakthrough at Wayne Enterprises and keeps you relatively up-to-date on major world events. You begrudgingly learn more interesting facts than public school has ever taught you.

Soon, you've watched everything good on Netflix. You exhausted your tolerance for social media. You've given yourself headaches reading so much. You've hit an art/writers block like never before because your input has run dry.

With no other source of entertainment, you become more attentive to the Bats.

Of course, you've always watched them out of fear. But as months tick by and you've learned their hearts (and delusions), it's obvious that they would never hurt you. Furthermore, operating within their expectations is easy enough as long as you never challenge them, so the constant danger-sense slowly turns off.

However, because you don't have any outside noise to occupy your mind, drama in the house becomes almost life-and-death to you.

Peace is so fragile, and it's all you have.

Damian and Bruce return from patrol in a rage one night. Damian's furious echoes bouncing upstairs, followed by Bruce's low, indistinguishable scorn.

Fuck, you think. Now your and Bruce's talks are going to be stilted and uncomfortable. Now Damian is going to sulk in your room for hours, unwilling to talk about what happened yet wanting some kind of reassurance.

You can't keep them from fighting, but you want to protect your peace.

When you first arrived in this dreadful manor, you never would have imagined you'd offer them kind words and affection. However it's the only thing you can do now.

There's conflict. The house is tense--your world is tense.

Should you call Dick? He has a day job again, so he can't come over until tomorrow night. It's up to you to ease the tension.

So you do, slowly, with homemade food and Bruce's favorite coffee blend and Damian's favorite hot chocolate. You sit with them individually, shoulder to shoulder (much closer than you would normally sit), and pretend everything is alright. They're surprised but very quick to snap back into a good mood.

The house is suddenly back in order and you did it all by yourself.

And with these vigilantes, conflict is ripe. There's always people coming and going, fighting and playing, and you're unwillingly the most in-tune with the well-being of everyone's relationships.

You protect your peace. You protect the house.

this shit makes me gnaw at my enclosure. if you're fem, it's worse because ✨ stereotypical woman archetype ✨ anyway this has been on my mind because i've been taking care of my baby chicks and cooking dinner most nights, so i'm like 💁‍♀️ i could be a captive house wife click here for my yandere batfam masterlist

[inkskinned]

the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.

three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.

two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.

their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.

one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.

i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.

i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.

and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?

you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.

a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.

someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.

[tsxkkis]

# kageyama tobio - private

a/n: not proud of this, because i didn't truly know how to end it. also i've been searching for a job lately and it's so damn hard to find one help T-T i still gotta try though because i want money for figurines and mangas :33

summary: your relationship with kageyama was a secret from the public, but it can't be private forever.

warnings: none really

tobio kageyama never answers his phone while training.

his mind was always set on one thing - volleyball. it's like everything else was secondary to his beloved sport, to his safe space, which he adored and treasured dearly. there was only one thing he loved just as much; but that was kept a secret from the world.

along with being a professional athlete came the fame, and with the fame came lack of privacy, something that kageyama seemed to hate from the very beginning of joining schweiden adlers. he vowed to himself that his private life will never become a topic of public discussion, that he'll control every information that comes out to the media as much as he possibly can.

'they're writing about you.' ushijima's voice echoed through their changing room as he handed the black-haired boy his phone, an internet article opened up on one of the most popular gossip pages. upon seeing the title and content of the article, the look on his face instantly changed - he looked irritated, almost insulted. kageyama's nose scrunched in dissatisfaction as if he's just seen another picture of hinata and oikawa hanging out in brazil.

'ooh, let me see!' hoshiumi snached the phone away, curious eyes following the text on the screen, a small gasp leaving his parted lips every now and then. kageyama was quick to get the phone back with an annoyed huff, suddenly putting his shoes on much quicker than before.

the white-haired man looked like he was about to say something, but he was quickly cut off before he could even let a word out.

'don't even mention it.'

'you have a GIRLFRIEND?!'

the changing room fell silent, the only two men left there besides kageyama standing still, awaiting an answer. but as they noticed the tips of tobio's ears turning into a color similar to a rose and his gaze avoiding their glares, they realized they didn't need one.

they weren't exactly shocked by their discovery - tobio was always a private person, and he didn't really talk about his life much, much preffering conversations about volleyball instead of one's that circled around him.

a notification popped up on his phone, disrupting the silence between the three men.

it was you.

'i'm waiting in front of the changing room like i told you yesterday :33'

'hurry up!'

tobio realized he completely forgot about his promise to you, and as his cheeks flushed pink, he suddenly realized that maybe the whole situation wasn't so bad after all.

'you want to meet my teammates?'

kageyama's stood in your shared room's doorframe, a curious look on his face. 'why the hell would you want to meet these idiots?'

'i want to get to know the people my boyfriend hangs out with.' you mumbled, putting down the book you were currently reading. 'you know, i understand that you want to protect your peace from the outside world, but i don't think you have to hide your entire life from your work friends. they seem trustworthy, for all i know.'

the black-haired man plopped onto the bed right next to you, choosing your arm as a perfect pillow for himself. the room fell silent for a few minutes, but you didn't pressure tobio to answer you right away - from the look on his face you knew he was thinking, rather intensely at that, so there was no point in disrupting his trail of thoughts.

'how am i supposed to break it to them, though?' he asked, a genuinely confused look on his face. 'hey, i've been in a relationship for the last four years and never told you, sorry.'

a giggle left your mouth, your hand softly brushing through your boyfriend's hair, twirling the short strands around your fingers.

'i can just come to meet you up after practice and introduce myself. it'll be less awkward for you that way.'

kageyama hummed in response, as if he was deciding on whether he should go with your idea or not. he knew that your relationship being uncovered was inevitable - that sooner or later, they would find out anyways. so maybe your idea wasn't so bad.

'tommorow?' he mumbled, head leaning into your soft hands, almost as if he was pleading you to play with his hair just a tad bit longer.

'fine by me.'

you stood in one place, patiently awaiting your boyfriend as you scrolled through your phone, invested in a particularly hard game of sudoku. as you heard the door crack open, your eyes quickly shot up, hoping to be met with your boyfriend's tall figure. instead, a way shorter, white-haired man showed up right in front of you, bright eyes scanning your figure from head to toe.

'i know you! you used to be karasuno's manage-'

'give her some space, hoshiumi.' a tall man appeared from behind him, one that you recognized to be ushijima almost immediately. you remembered both of the men from your times in high school, and yet you never truly had a chance to meet them properly - not until now, that is.

as you greeted tobio, who emerged from the changing room shortly after, you weren't even surprised that he opted for a hug instead of a kiss - although an adult already, kageyama was still awkward with any public displays of affection. he preferred to keep those special moments to himself.

'have you seen the article?' he hummed quietly, his eyes glued to your face smiling at your confused look.

'what article?'

although a little dumbfounded by your lack of knowledge of it, kageyama quickly pulled out his phone and handed it to you, the article opened up on the screen.

'oh.' your face went blank as you eyed the words in front of you, suddenly connecting the dots. 'so that's why there's so many reporters and paparazzi in front of the building.

reporters? paparazzi?

'shit.' he mumbled under his breath. 'how many of them?'

'around ten, maybe eleven.' kageyama's smile dropped almost immediately upon hearing the number. you carefully scanned his face, hand going up to gently ruffle his hair. 'we can wait for them to leave if you don't want them to see us. i don't mind.'

he thought for a hot minute, rethinking every possible scenario that could happen, every option available. was he truly ready for his private life to become so... public?

kageyama wasn't exactly sure. you've been together for so long that he knew this relationship would last through anything and everything, but at the same time, he didn't want things to change. he hated changes - they never truly meant anything good, and he would always avoid them as much as possible.

but this change was inevitable.

'it's alright.' he said, breaking the moment of silence. 'it would've happened sooner or later. might as well have this behind us, right?'

'are you sure?' you asked quietly, squeezing his hand as you saw kageyama already heading towards the door. his head quickly turned to face you, giving you a small nod before his hand landed on the handle.

'not entirely.' he admitted, eyes darting away from your gaze. 'but i can do it as long as it's with you.'

'hey, don't forget about us!' hoshiumi's stated, your boyfriend shooting him a deathly glare for interrupting the moment between you two. 'maybe we should all grab some dinner, what do you say? i'm sure you're all hungry.'

'come to think of it,' ushijima barged into the conversation, his usual monotone tone. 'i know a restaurant where the paparazzi won't bother us.'

you exchanged looks with tobio, a barely noticeable smile on your face being enough for him to know that you agree.

'let's do it.' the black-haired man said, solidifying the idea once and for all.

'what if they won't leave us alone?' he could see that your anxious side took over, suddenly stressed out about going outside. kageyama gave you a reassuring look, smiling softly.

'then they'll know how amazing my girlfriend is.'

'oooh, how corny-' hoshiumi mumbled, stopping when he saw kageyama's annoyed glare. 'alright, lovebirds, i'll be quiet.'

'you'd better.' you giggled at your boyfriend's words, his hand once again on the handle. he looked your way, softly smiling down at you. 'ready?'

you looked up, eyes meeting his.

'with you by my side? always.'

taglist: @moonswolfie