#i just really don’t think you can come up with anything better

[hoshifighting]

idk if someone asked you this but i’m a new reader and I REALLY REALLY LOVE YOUR WORKS!!!

can you please make wonwoo, the nerdy president who u thought was innocent and sweet but he’s the one behind ur fave nsfw audio creator???? AND HE’S A HARDFUCKER.. not what u expected tho..

i don’t know if i make sense but please pretty please 😭☝️

Synopsis: where you discover that the nerdy class president is the one man who creates the most nasty NSFW audios that you spend long nights listening to. WC: 2.8k WARNINGS: smut, audio porn, masturbation, hard fuck, dirty talk (obviously), bad sleeping habits (because of wonwoo), fingering, spanking, dirty talk, pussy eating, penetrative sex, protected sex, wonwoo whining, a lil invasion of privacy.

you’ve been running on fumes all day, the hazy buzz of sleep deprivation clinging to your brain like static. it’s no surprise, really. your night had gone the way it always does: you got home, flopped into your chair, threw on your headphones, and let onyx_lens—your favorite nsfw asmr creator—drag you under with that stupidly deep voice of his.

it was kind of pathetic, actually. you barely remember what the script was about—something about obedience or whatever—but you do remember the sound of his voice sinking into your brain like warm honey, making you cum so hard that you blacked the fuck out right after. now here you were, bleary-eyed and trying to stay upright in literature class, the regret of last night’s poor choices catching up with you.

wonwoo, the class president who was somehow both effortlessly chill and annoyingly observant, had been glancing at you every few minutes. you could feel his eyes on you as your head dipped forward for the third time, only to snap back up like a busted bobblehead.

but, in true wonwoo fashion, he didn’t say anything. no scolding, no judgmental sighs—just quiet observation.

when class finally ended, you were ready to yeet yourself into a nap for a solid 72 hours. you were shoving your stuff into your bag when wonwoo’s voice cut through the noise.

“you good?”

you froze. his voice wasn’t the same as onyx_lens’s, obviously, but it had that same deep, smooth timbre that made your brain short-circuit for a second. it didn’t help that his question sounded so much like something out of an nsfw script. you turned to face him, hoping your face wasn’t giving away how flustered you suddenly were. “uh—yeah,” you said, shaking your head a little too quickly. “just tired.”

wonwoo raised an eyebrow. “not sleeping well?”

your brain screamed. your tired, half-horny brain screamed louder. the overlap of his voice and onyx_lens in your head was un-fucking-bearable. you managed to nod, muttering something about late nights and deadlines, hoping he wouldn’t pry.

he didn’t, but his next question wasn’t much better.

“think you could help me with the sci-fi project? your last lit analysis was good, and i could use the extra pair of hands.”

you blinked at him. “me?”

he nodded, adjusting his glasses. “you. unless you’re too busy with...whatever’s keeping you up.”

oh, you mean my nightly sessions with onyx_lens and my vibrator?

you swallowed hard and tried to play it cool. “nah, i can help.”

and that’s how you found yourself standing outside wonwoo’s apartment later that evening, clutching your bag. his place was exactly what you’d expect from him—minimalist, neat, and smelling faintly of coffee.

“come in,” he said, holding the door open for you. “make yourself comfortable.”

easier said than done. you perched awkwardly on his couch as he set up his laptop on the coffee table, your eyes darting around the room in an attempt to ignore how nice his voice sounded in person.

“so,” he began, sitting across from you, “any ideas for the project?”

you cleared your throat, trying to focus. “uh, maybe something about robots and humanity? like, exploring ethical dilemmas or something.”

wonwoo nodded thoughtfully, his gaze fixed on you in a way that made your skin heat. “good idea. we could tie that into the main themes from class.”

he leaned forward slightly, scrolling through a document on his laptop, and you couldn’t help but notice how his glasses slipped down his nose. you were so not prepared for this level of proximity or his stupidly deep voice.

“you okay?” he asked again, glancing at you.

you blinked, realizing you’d been staring. “yeah, just...thinking.”

his lips twitched into a small, knowing smile. “good. let me know if you need a break or...anything.”

the way he said anything sent a shiver down your spine. you weren’t sure if it was exhaustion, residual arousal from last night, or the sheer presence of wonwoo in his element, but your brain was a mess.

you were supposed to be helping him with this project, but all you could think about was the way his voice would sound whispering in your ear, saying things that would make onyx_lens blush.

you were so close to winning the “most pathetic college student of the year” award it wasn’t even funny. after much back-and-forth with wonwoo, class president of your downfall, you somehow convinced him to let you walk home alone. except the man still went all soft and paid for a taxi anyway, which, like… thanks? but also stop being so nice, what the hell.

it was nearing 11 p.m. when you got home, and as if on cue, your phone pinged with a notification: onyx_lens’s weekly live is starting.

you stared at it for a second, blinking in disbelief. today’s theme? "neon circuits and orgasm denial (a cyberpunk experience) 8d audio"

sci-fi-themed. of fucking course.

you almost laughed at the audacity of the universe for this one. was this some sort of cosmic joke? was wonwoo onyx_lens?! no way. no goddamn way. you shook off the thought as delulu nonsense and dragged yourself to the bathroom for a quick sponge bath.

by the time you flopped into your chair, headphones on, the live was already in full swing. that voice—that stupidly deep, velvety voice—flooded your ears as the chat buzzed with unhinged comments. onyx purred, and you were done for.

you couldn’t even focus on the sci-fi plot he was spinning, something about rogue androids, monster cock, neon vibrators and human experimentation. his voice wrapped around you like a silk chokehold, and you were gone—just a vibrating mess in your chair, coming undone embarrassingly fast.

fast forward to the next morning: you woke up feeling like a used dishrag. again. headphones still on, your phone dead, and the memory of last night’s live replaying in your brain like a broken record.

by the time you dragged yourself to class, you were running on fumes and vibes. your hoodie was scrunched up around your face, making you look like a cross between a gremlin and an overgrown baby.

wonwoo noticed. you could feel his eyes boring into you as you tried—and failed—to stay upright. you were so close to just giving in and laying flat on the floor. honestly, it might’ve been comfier than your chair at that point.

wonwoo, sitting two rows away, looked like he was internally debating whether to intervene or let you rot in peace. when the bell rang, you startled awake like you’d been electrocuted, nearly knocking your stuff off your desk in the process.

“you okay?” he asked, falling into step beside you as you shuffled out of the classroom like a zombie.

“i’m fine,” you mumbled, voice muffled by your hoodie. “just need food. like, now.”

you detoured to the convenience store on the way to his apartment, snagging an entire kimbap roll and tearing into it like a starving animal. wonwoo followed behind, holding your water bottle with a look that was equal parts judgment and amusement.

“you couldn’t wait?” he asked, watching as you ate half the roll in one bite.

“bro,” you said around a mouthful of rice, “if i didn’t eat this, i was gonna pass out on the cold asphalt. your problem now, mr. class president.”

he rolled his eyes but didn’t argue, just handed you your water like the reluctant babysitter he was.

this was going to be a long afternoon.

you couldn’t help yourself. the suspicion had been eating away at you for weeks now, ever since you first heard his voice in class and that nagging sense of déjà vu set in. wonwoo had escaped to the bathroom, and you had the perfect opportunity to snoop.

your fingers hovered over his notebook, but then your gaze darted back to your own screen. back and forth, back and forth. his notebook. yours. the coincidences were piling up like a conspiracy wall in your head. the voice, the specific vocabulary choices, even the cadence—how did i not notice this earlier?!

“fuck it,” you whispered to yourself, grabbing his notebook and quickly pulling up the site where you normally streamed your favorite asmr creator. just to check. just to confirm your theory.

your heart pounded as the site loaded, every second dragging like molasses. the channel page opened, and at first, it seemed normal. too normal. you almost clicked away, feeling stupid for even suspecting anything.

but then you saw it: edit profile. analytics.

your breath caught, and a sharp scoff escaped you as you crossed your arms. oh, my god. the realization hit you like a freight train. it’s him. wonwoo. class president. sci-fi nerd. “how the fuck did i not notice?” you muttered, half impressed by his audacity.

you were so lost in your spiraling thoughts that you didn’t hear him return—until his voice, practically kissed your earlobe.

“what. do. you. think. you. are. doing?”

you jumped so hard your knee slammed into the underside of the desk. whipping around, you found wonwoo standing over you, his expression unreadable but his jaw tight.

“uh—nothing?” you stammered, trying to slam your laptop shut, but his hand darted out and stopped you.

“‘nothing’ doesn’t look like you snooping through my computer,” he said, his voice dangerously calm.

your cheeks burned. “okay, fine, maybe i was curious—”

“you were curious?” his tone sharpened. “curious enough to invade my privacy?”

“invade your—bro, you’re literally whispering dirty robot sex fantasies to the entire internet. how is that private?”

“that’s different!” his ears flushed a deep red, and you couldn’t tell if it was from anger or embarrassment. “that’s content. this—this is personal.”

you rolled your eyes, leaning back in your chair. “oh, please. you’re mad i figured it out. admit it.”

he leaned closer, towering over you now, his hand pressing down on the desk beside you. “what do you want, huh? blackmail? are you gonna tell everyone?”

you laughed, loud and incredulous. “tell everyone?! dude, relax. i’m not gonna expose your little side hustle. besides…” you smirked, tilting your head to look up at him. “you should be thanking me. clearly, i’m a fan.”

wonwoo’s eyes darkened, and his lips parted as if to say something, but no words came out. 

“you’re a what?” he asks, your pulse skyrocketing as he stepped even closer, crowding you against the chair.

“did i stutter?” you whispered, the challenge clear in your tone.

his mouth crashed onto yours, teeth and tongue and frustration. you barely had time to process it before he was yanking you out of the chair, his hands rough as they gripped your hips and spun you around.

“you want to act like a brat,” he growled into your ear, his voice so reminiscent of his asmr persona that it made you roll your eyes back slighty, “then you’re gonna get treated like one.”

he bent you over the desk, the cold surface pressing against your chest as he yanked down your college skirt and underwear at once. his fingers slid through your folds, already slick just from being around him.

“so fucking wet,” he muttered, almost to himself. “you get off on this, don’t you? knowing it’s me.”

“shut your mouth,” you gasped, but it came out more like a moan as he pushed two fingers inside you, curling them and pressing them hard on your front wall.

“make me,” he challenged, his other hand coming down sharply on your ass. the sting made you gasp, your hips jerking against his hand as you tense on the desk.

the pace of his fingers was relentless, his thumb circling your clit in time with the thrusts. every part of your body was starting to be feveirsh, and you hated—hated—how easily he was unraveling you. you spent nights thinking about how it would be if onyx fucked you, and here you are. of course you would be a mess in a second.

“sorry” he mocked you. “am i too much for you?”

you clenched around his fingers, your nails digging into the desk as you tried to hold back a moan. “you talk too fucking much actually wonwoo,” you hissed.

“yeah, that's what's paying me at nights” wonwoo chuckled darkly, pulling his fingers out and flipping you onto your back with his big arms. before you could protest, he was kneeling between your legs, his mouth suddenly hot and insistent against your core, better than any other vibrator you insisted on using at night.

the sounds—the wet, obscene sounds of his tongue—mixed with your whimpers as he devoured you like a man starved. his hands gripped your thighs, holding you open as you tried to squirm away from the overwhelming sensation.

“stop—”

“stop?” he looked up, his chin glistening. “not until you admit i’m your favorite.”

you glared down at him, breathless and defiant. “you’re such an asshole.”

“and yet…” he smirked, diving back in and flicking his tongue against your clit until your head fell back, a broken moan spilling from your lips.

it didn’t take long before you were coming undone, your body shaking as his mouth pulled your clit. wonwoo didn’t stop, didn’t even slow down, dragging out your orgasm until you were a trembling, incoherent chaos beneath him.

wonwoo doesn’t waste a second after pulling back, his hands flipping you over again so you’re bent over the desk, your cheek pressed to the cool surface as he grinds against you. the thick outline of his cock rubs against your dripping folds, still covered by the soft fabric of his grey sweatpants. you gasp, your hips jerking back involuntarily, and his pearly-white smile flashes above you.

“look at that,” he murmurs, almost smug, as a dark spot begins to spread on his sweatpants from your slick. “you’re soaking me through.”

the way he emphasizes the word makes your back contort in shivers, but you’re too far gone to care. your fingers claw at the desk as he keeps humping against you, his pace quickening. when he finally pulls back, you hear the shuffle of fabric as he yanks down his sweatpants and briefs. the soft clink of a drawer opening catches your attention, and you crane your neck to see him sliding on a condom.

“you’re still melting all over my desk,” he rubs a hand over the curve of your ass. “can’t even wait for me, huh?”

before you can respond, his hand comes down sharply on your ass, the sting making you gasp. he doesn’t stop, spanking you again and again until your skin is flushed and burning.

“you look so pretty like this,” he says, his hand smoothing over the heated skin before gripping your waist and lining himself up. “all messy and desperate for me.”

when he pushes in, stretching you inch by inch until you’re full and breathless, pussy trying to clench at his big grith to adjust. wonwoo groans, his head falling forward as he sinks in to the hilt.

your walls flutter around him, and he moans at the feeling, the sound so real and raw that it sends a jolt straight to your core.

“talk to me,” you manage to gasp, your voice muffled against the desk.

he chuckles, his pace picking up as he leans down to whisper in your ear. “you want me to talk dirty? you want me to tell you how tight you are? how good you’re taking me?”

you moan in response, your hips bucking back against him as his words send you curling.

“yeah, you like that, don’t you?” he continues, his voice thick with lust. your moans grow louder, and he suddenly remembers the videos you must’ve listened to—the whining, the moaning. the thought makes his stomach flip, and he decides to give you exactly what you want.

he starts letting out soft whimpers, his voice breaking with each thrust, the sounds spilling out almost involuntarily. “fuck, babe, you’re gonna make me cum—”

the genuine desperation in his voice drives you wild, and your body clenches around him, pulling him deeper. he groans, his hands gripping your hips so tightly you’re sure they’ll leave marks, but you don’t care.

“please,” he moans, his voice high and strained. “let me cum for you. let me—fuck—”

you push back against him, meeting his thrusts as your own climax builds, your breaths coming in short, broken gasps. the room is filled with the wet, obscene sounds of your bodies moving together, and the tension snaps all at once.

you come hard, your body shaking as you cry out, and wonwoo isn’t far behind. his hips stutter, a guttural moan escaping him as he spills into the condom, his body trembling with the force of it.

he collapses over you, his chest heaving against your back as you both try to catch your breath. after a moment, he presses a soft kiss to the back of your neck, his voice still hoarse as he murmurs, “guess i’m a little better live, hm?”

you just let out a defeated moan, the coldness of the table soothing your hot cheeks.

“keep quiet about this, and i'll keep giving you more.” well, it's just an excuse that wonwoo said to fuck you over again.

[wonderjanga]

Little British Boy

The Batsons were both British people who immigrated to America. As a result of this when Mary and Billy were born, they gained British accents causing them to sound like little Victorian children.

Store Owner: “Thanks for the help, young man.” *hands him five dollars*

Billy: “Thank you sir!”

Store Owner: “No problem-” *has to do a double take at that accent* “A Brit?”

Billy: “No sir. But my parents were. I was raised in America.”

Yeah… It confused some people at first, but after a while of the little British kid coming around and doing odd jobs for money, most store owners got used to it. Then came the time Billy wanted a stable job a.k.a. being the Whiz kid.

Mr. Morris: “So you want to be a radio host?”

Billy: “Yes, sir. I need the money.”

Mr. Morris: “Wow… It’s been a long while since I’ve heard a British accent.”

Billy: “Ah, sorry.” *tries to make himself sound more American, but it comes all across as more transatlantic* “Is that better?”

Mr. Morris: *heard the transatlantic accent and was immediately interested* “Very. Why don’t we have you do a trial run and then we’ll go from there?”

Billy: “I’d really appreciate that, sir.” *thinks he thinks his American accent is good, but doesn’t realize he’s doing a perfect transatlantic*

The Britishness also bled into his Captain Marvel form. Though like with Billy, he tried to sound more American and ended up coming across as more transatlantic. People in the 60s loved it, and when the time bubble popped surprisingly people from the 2000s loved it too. And because in this AU the bubble popped in the 2000s, this was when most heroes were first starting out. He ends up meeting a young Batman. Billy had originally gone to Gotham because they wanted to see if the city was still cursed to heck and sure enough it was.

Batman: “You sound just like the old Gray Ghost movies…”

Marvel: “What was that?”

Batman: “Nothing.”

Somehow, about a couple years after this, they ended up developing a friendship. Marvel was even allowed down in the Batcave on the condition he doesn’t touch anything. (Bruce literally saw the man touch something with his pinky and it short fused. He is not taking any risks until he is sure the Batcomputer can handle enough volts of electricity to take out a power plant.) One of these days while Bruce was working, and Marvel was in the cave pacing and chattering incessantly to Bruce about something random, Alfred came down. The butler distracted the Captain and after a bit, all Bruce could hear was unintelligible words.

At first, Bruce just assumed it was him zoning out of the conversation and thought nothing of it, but then Robin tiptoed over:

Robin!Dick: *pokes Bruce to bring him back to reality* “What are they saying…?” *points to Alfred and Marvel*

Alfred and Marvel: *speaking in Welsh*

Batman: “I… don’t know.”

Robin!Dick and Batman: *stares*

Ah… How could he have forgotten? Alfred’s Welsh. Though, the butler now speaks in a different English accent, likely due to his time as a stage actor. Bruce remembered the man telling him that long ago when he was still a boy. How… unprepared of Bruce. He should’ve learned Welsh by now. He’s a little embarrassed he hasn’t. As for Marvel, Bruce was a little upset he didn’t know the man was from England, let alone the same place as Agent A. But then where did the transatlantic-ness come from?

Robin!Dick: “I still can’t tell what they’re saying…”

Marvel and Alfred: *switched back to English at this point, but the accents are still strong*

So yes, Billy has three accents folks. His mother Marilyn was Welsh so he knows how to mimic the accent and speak the language because I say so. His father had a classic London accent which Billy defaults to most of the time. So, Billy’s double British, or just British and Welsh is you want to separate the two. Then there’s the fail-to-try-to-sound-more-American-accent or accidental transatlantic accent.

[knnichs]

TO MY DEAREST.

A feeling lingered in his chest. He wanted nothing more than to gaze up in the sky with you–even if he knew that its beauty was fabricated. A well-done lie, weaved together with details convincing enough to fool anyone who only glanced at it from afar.

c. harbinger scaramouche x gn! reader

t. character(s) are friends with reader but have romantic feelings, mentions of stalker, brief thought of violence (not acted on,) fluff. wc: 1.5k

taglist. @thestarswhisper @pneumosia @tragedy-of-commons @gl4di0lus @azuresaqua @mikashisus -> join the taglist here!

heads up! this is a sequel to “to and fro - back and forth” but can be read as a standalone. i still heavily recommend for you to read it before this!

Recently, you have been receiving unsigned letters laying flat on your doorstep. 

Out in the bright of day–there would always be an… incomplete letter accompanied with some sort of flower. There’s no theme whatsoever–the flowers come in random colors, and the letters all have the same seal, S, it would read.

There are a lot of people you know that have their names starting in the same letter: Sethos, Siegwienne, a few more that you couldn’t be bothered to name. The thought did occur to you at some point–could it be…

No, that’s impossible.

Scaramouche is a friend (you wouldn’t say friend, exactly. He would probably think you were an acquaintance at most.) you made when you had a reunion with Childe. Apparently, Scaramouche was his co-worker, and the two of them don’t exactly get along. You, ever the peacemaker, got fed up with their constant bantering. You internally made it your mission to have the two get along, no matter how impossible it may seem.

Then began the friendship. You got his contact information, completely unaware that he had only given it to you simply because he found your personality quite interesting. He wouldn’t admit that outright–he wouldn’t say ‘Childe’s friends are my friends’ either, since Childe and him aren’t even that close. 

Scaramouche convinced himself that it was simply a way of getting information for when he decides to overthrow the Fatui.

Sometimes he’d join you when he sees you around the area he was in. A harbinger who did nothing but stay on standby–how stupid is that? With nothing better to do, he’d rather escape the toxic lifestyle of the Fatui and join you on peaceful walks instead. Sometimes he’d start conversations, sometimes he’d just stay quiet. If he gets your mouth to run for hours on end–maybe you’ll slip up and say something he can use against Childe the next time he says they had some sort of “agreement.”

That moment never came. He never found anything that could help his plan in your words. Instead, the things you talked about were all about how horrible your day has been and how terrible your colleague was. 

How laughable. Here you were–completely oblivious to the dangers of the world. He bet that you didn’t even know the sky in Teyvat was fake. You complain when the server gets your ice cream order wrong and somehow your entire day gets turned upside down–but you didn’t even dare confront them. 

You were foolish and simple-minded. He just felt generous enough to run back to that shop–repeat your order the same way you said it and go back to you. No, he didn’t pay for it. They gave it to him for free since they felt bad about messing up your order.

You didn’t fail to see him pocket the change, though. But you stay quiet, choosing to say nothing and simply smile. At least now you had two things to be happy about for the day.

Your house was near the coast line of Snezhnaya. There wasn’t much to do or to see–save for the breathtaking views of the ocean and the night sky. It was more of a provincial area, nothing too extraordinary for it to be a tourist spot or whatnot.

On restless nights, Scaramouche finds himself unconsciously walking to the direction of where your home was. He doesn’t really knock on your door expecting you to magically come out. But how close he was on actually doing it–his hand curling into a fist when he hesitates. He would sigh–not knowing what you did exactly that has him acting like a lovesick idiot.

Sometimes, you would be on your porch–or laying on the snow-covered grass. Admiring the green light stretching into the horizons. You’d spot the boy in the corner of your eye, shocked he even bothered to come all the way here for you. 

No, it wasn’t for you. He was on a mission and happened to pass by, and he was just looking at the sky–not you. That’s what he would always claim.

You would scoff, laying back down on the grass–a silent invitation for him to join you. 

The first few times this happened, a feeling lingered in his chest. He wanted nothing more than to gaze up in the sky with you–even if he knew that its beauty was fabricated. A well-done lie, weaved together with details convincing enough to fool anyone who only glanced at it from afar.

That night, he noticed you lazing around the patch of grass like some kind of weirdo–he found it quite entertaining, even if he had just insulted you in the back of his mind. 

Scaramouche would turn to look to his underlings, commanding them to set up camp somewhere a little farther away and rest. This has never happened before–I mean, the Sixth Harbinger, The Balladeer, telling them to rest? Unheard of! 

Once they had all entered their tents–he made it clear that not one of them should get out or even keep watch incase of some sort of ambush. This sparked some anxiety within the group, but if it was the harbinger’s orders, they would simply follow it.

“It’s late. What are you doing at this hour?” A voice from behind says–eventually coming close enough for you to see clearly even in the dead of night. Has Scaramouche come to visit you?

“I couldn’t sleep,” You claim. “What are you doing here?”

He pauses, standing beside you. “It’s dangerous to be out and about, especially since it’s this late.”

“You didn’t answer my question.” 

You look at him–with those damned eyes he could easily fall for. So he turns away, a hand on his hat, hoping it was enough to cover the vulnerability in his face. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He huffed.

He doesn’t dare to even glance at you for another minute or so. You sit up–propping a hand behind you for support, facing the ocean. Only then does Scaramouche look at you, when you’re distracted and all the attention isn’t on him. He would study your face for a moment, the way the hues of the aurora reflect back on you.

He cleared his throat, “Go back to your home.”

To that–you shake your head, still focused on the waves as they crash to the shore. 

“It’s beautiful out here, I’ve gotten sick of my room.”

“And you will get sick if you don’t warm yourself up. It’s cold.”

“Your face is cold.” 

“How creative. Your comeback is easily one of the worst ones I’ve ever heard.” His tone was quite sarcastic, but the slightest chuckle can be heard from him.

A comfortable silence fills the air. He sits on the grass beside you, resting his chin on his hand. You were quite stubborn, you were shivering–your lips turning pale, and eyebags have already begun to form. But you chose to stay and look at the sky.

Why?

None of you choose to speak during the moment. You were too focused on the scene in front of you to even think about how easy it is for the Balladeer to hurt you in this moment. You put too much trust in him–too much hope that he wouldn’t do anything. You forget that he’s cold, his soul filled with anger and a desire for revenge. 

It’s either the aurora that night was imbued with some sort of magic that put him under a spell to be more forgiving, or simply because your personality had rubbed off on him with the amount of times he “coincidentally” found you idling around in the city.

He hasn’t felt this way not once in his life, but the thought had already crossed his mind–

Was he in love?

Because if this was love felt like–he wanted nothing to do with it. 

You’ve gotten another letter again today.

You talked to Childe about it–he was quite worried it would be some sort of stalker and that you could possibly be in danger, but you quickly brushed it off and shut down that train of thought saying that you never did anything to really make anyone fall for you. He promised that he would send a small team of Fatui to guard your house at night though, and so it happened.

A rustling can be heard, and some talking within the troops until one of them had shouted. 

It was a stalker after all, you thought to yourself. You went downstairs and eavesdropped on the conversation–curious about the person's identity. Their voices were muffled–but you did hear a few things for certain.

“Lord Scaramouche? What are you doing here?” One of them stuttered.

“Shut up–and be quiet!” He yelled. His voice different from the one he uses with you–it was always soft, some sarcasm here and there–but he would never use a harsh tone.

“I heard Childe was putting some sort of team together to guard here,” You hear footsteps towards the porch, and a shadow would crouch down, a familiar white envelope slipping through the creaks of your door. “You can leave now. I’ll take over.”

“Don’t you need a team, my lord?” 

“I said leave, so get out!”

You smiled as you opened it, the same starting line as every other letter—To my dearest. The contents would go on and on about how frustrating it was being inlove.

Now, you know who your mystery admirer is.

@ knnichs 2023 ﹑ do not repost, republish, translate, feed to ai or modify any of my works. doing so can and will result into me blocking you.

WHAS GOOD CHAT happy birthday to this FREAKAZOID i love him so much🤞🤞😜 anyway that aside this was so rushed (im sorry) (im not) i needed to get this out by the time it was his birthday so i wrote this all in like 2 hours and then procrastinated posting it NOW IM LATE … it is. one am january FOUR im so sorry im a fake scaramouche fan 😵

[scary-grace]

omg Hana lives au where you’re in her group for a project and keep suggesting studying at her house. You say it’s because she has a library but actually you just think her brother’s cute.

You sent this ask and my brain started clicking, so here is a Hana (and Mon) lives ficlet, ft. a reader who’s lying about her quirk.

“Again?” Hana asks. She heaves a dramatic sigh and flops down over her desk. “We always study at my house.”

“Your house is nicer,” Yue says.

“You have a library and a bunch of pretty windows,” Manami says. “And your backyard is so nice! If the weather’s good we can study outside.”

All of what your friends are saying is true. Hana has the nicest house by far, and the most books you can borrow, but you’re not going to join in the guilt-trip. Hana picks her head up and glances your way. “You’re not going to say anything?”

You can’t. It’ll look suspicious. “I’m fine with wherever,” you say.

“No you’re not,” Yue says, and elbows you. Her elbows are really pointy. “You want to go over to Hana’s too. Say it.”

“Okay, okay,” you say. Maybe not going along with it looks more suspicious than going along with it would. “We have to go over to yours, Hana. Mon loves me, and I promised to go back see him soon.”

“Mon does really like you,” Hana admits. “Better than me. The only person he likes more is Tenko.”

“Is he going to be around?” you ask as casually as possible. “Tenko?”

“Yeah. Why?”

That settles it. You’re going to Hana’s to study if you have to climb over the back fence and study in the grass. “Just figuring out how many snacks to bring. If you’re hosting, I’m bringing food.”

Manami and Yue renew their attack on Hana. “She has a cooking quirk. People pay for her stuff and we get it for free. Come on, Hana —“

Hana heaves an even more dramatic sigh than before, but you can see her smiling slightly. “Fine. My house tomorrow at noon.”

Manami and Yue are grinning, pleased, but you feel a knot of anticipation pulling tight in your chest. You like going to Hana’s, sure, and you love seeing Mon. But you’d rather fail every class between now and graduation than admit to Hana that the reason you always want to study at her place is that you have a crush on her little brother.

You’re not that much older than Tenko is — just a year or so, since you’re a grade ahead in the classes you share with Hana and Yue — and if you told anybody about your crush, the age difference would be the last thing they’d comment on. Tenko can be a little intense, a little earnest, a lot awkward. When you first became friends with Hana, nobody was making him pay for it yet, but then he got to middle school, and you know he got picked on. Hana stood up for him as best she could, and so did you, if someone was mean when you were in earshot. You stood up for him before you had a crush on him. That’s not why you did it.

You’re not sure when you went from the kind of distant fondness you have for your friends’ siblings to this, but it happened, and now you’ll take any chance you get to hang out at Hana’s house. Even if it means you’ll be up all night baking, trying to make the quirk you lied about look real.

You’re at Hana’s house two minutes after noon, with your backpack and two covered trays, one with cupcakes and one with taiyaki. Hana beams. “Sorry I was weird yesterday,” she says as she ushers you inside. “I was worried my dad might try to visit.”

“Oh.” You know Hana’s parents are divorced — messily divorced, and Hana has really mixed feelings about her dad, who lives in a luxury apartment on the other side of town. “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s good. I told him he couldn’t visit because I had friends coming over to study, so it all worked out.”

Hana lifts the trays out of your hands while you take off your shoes and goes to set them on the table. As you straighten up, you hear the sound of paws pattering across the floor. “Mon?”

Mon pounces on you, much more spry than his white-flecked muzzle would suggest, and you crouch down to greet him. You don’t have a dog of your own, but you’ve always been a dog person, and Mon’s your favorite by a mile. You tell him so. “Who’s the most handsome man? I missed you so much —“ He bounces up on his hind legs to lick your nose, and you laugh. “I promised I’d come back. You don’t have to give me that many kisses.”

“He wants you to pet him.”

That’s Tenko’s voice, and just like that, you’re nervous. You look up to find him watching you from around the corner, dark-haired and grey-eyed, halfway in the shadows. “You never pet him,” he continues. He got cuter since the last time you saw him. How is that possible? “Why not?”

“Do I have to pet him to love him?” you ask awkwardly. “He likes me anyway.”

“Yeah. A lot. But it’s weird that you don’t pet him.” Tenko scratches lightly at the side of his neck with a gloved hand. “If you’re allergic, you shouldn’t let him lick your face.”

“I’m not allergic.” You nudge Mon away, and thankfully, he defaults to sniffing your backpack, giving you an excuse to look at him instead of Tenko. “I promised I’d bring treats for you next time. Give me a second.”

“He can’t eat treats from the store. They’re bad for him.”

“I made these at home,” you say. “There are two kinds — salmon and quinoa, and carrot and cheese.“

Tenko’s quiet. You glance up at him and see a surprised look on his face. “You made him two kinds of treats?”

“I wasn’t sure what he liked best,” you admit. You take the package out of your backpack, and Mon starts slobbering all over your hands as he tries to get you to open it. “Can I give him one?”

Tenko nods, and you open the plastic bag, selecting a carrot and cheese biscuit. “Sorry I was mean,” he says quietly. “I heard Hana tell you. About our dad —“

“It’s okay,” you say. He’s so earnest about stuff. You can’t remember the last time you heard a boy apologize and really mean it. “Um, should I ask Mon to do a trick or something?”

“If you hold it up and say ‘up’ he’ll stand on his hind legs,” Tenko says, and you laugh. “Don’t make him do it for too long. He’s getting old.”

Tenko’s voice catches a little bit on the last words, and breaks your heart a little bit more. “Can he roll over?”

“Yeah. Mon, roll,” Tenko orders, and Mon flops down and log-rolls twice. “Good boy. Now he can have a treat.”

You feed Mon the carrot and cheese biscuit, which he snaps up in two bites. He must like it, because he immediately comes hunting for more. Tenko fishes around in the bag and comes up with one of the salmon biscuits, which he gives to Mon without asking for a trick first. He pets Mon with gloved hands and Mon immediately pops up, licking his cheek and snuffling his ears. Tenko laughs, a quiet, rusty sound that makes your cheeks heat up. “Don’t be dumb. There aren’t any treats in there. She has the treats.”

Watching the two of them interact, you’re amazed that more of Hana’s friends don’t have crushes on Tenko. There’s something sweet about him, something that renders any weirdness or awkwardness or itchiness irrelevant. You know he’s smart, and you think he’s cute, and the fact that he’s a year younger than you and your friend’s brother shouldn’t matter at all.

But it does matter, because when Hana calls your name, you jump out of your skin like you’ve been caught stealing from the cookie jar. “Where did you go?” she complains, then rounds the corner. “You don’t have to win Mon’s heart with treats. He already likes you second-best out of everybody.”

“He does,” Tenko agrees. He glances sideways at you, somehow managing to look up at you through his eyelashes even though you’re both the same height crouching down. “I can tell.”

You try not to blush and mostly fail, because it’s not Mon’s heart you’re trying to win. And even though you know you shouldn’t, even though you know it’s a bad idea, you reach out to pet Mon’s ears, stealing a little bit of life from yourself and passing it along to him.

[im-so-normal-iswear]

Ahem can I request what shadow would do with his s/o when they have nightmares?

A/n: I've actually only had a nightmare once, and I don't really consider what I had one, so idk how well this is written

Shadow x s/o with nightmare

You wake up with a jolt, your heart pounding against your ribs. you shook ad you heaved in and out heavily. The room is dark, but you can make out Shadow’s silhouette, sitting in his usual spot by the window. He’s always up late, either lost in thought or silently keeping watch. His eyes flick to you almost immediately, keen as ever to notice the change in your breathing.

"You’re awake," he states, his voice low and quiet, more an observation than a question. He’s by your side in moments, moving with the same silent precision you’ve grown used to. The mattress dips slightly under his weight as he sits beside you, his hand hesitating before settling gently on your shoulder.

"You had another one, didn’t you?" Shadow asks, softer this time. His voice, though stern, had a touch of concern in it.

You nod, unable to find your voice yet. The nightmare still fresh in your mind as you tried to regulate your breaths. Shadow notices. Of course he notices. He’s always observant when it comes to you.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asks, his hand shifting to rest against your back, a small gesture of comfort that feels grounding.

You shake your head. "I... I don’t know. I don’t think it’ll help."

Shadow’s eyes narrow slightly, not out of irritation but in thought. He knows nightmares well, too well. He knows the weight they leave, how they linger like a shadow you can’t shake. Still, he doesn’t push you. That’s one thing you appreciate about him, he respects your boundaries, even if he’s tempted to press further for your own sake.

"All right," he says after a moment, standing abruptly, grabbing a blanket. "Come on."

You blink, startled. "What?"

"You’re not going back to sleep like this," he says matter-of-factly. "We’re going outside."

"Outside? Shadow, it’s the middle of the night!"

"Fresh air helps clear your head," he replies, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. "Trust me."

You sigh but find yourself sliding out of bed anyway. there was no poing in arguing, and frankly you were too tired to anyways.

Shadow leads you out to the quiet woods near your home, the two of you walking in comfortable silence. The cold night air nipped at your skin, but Shadow draped the blabket he took over your shoulders keeps you warm. He walks just ahead, glancing back every so often to make sure you’re keeping up. The moonlight filters through the trees, casting silvery patches on the ground, and you find yourself focusing on the sound of his footsteps and the rustle of leaves.

After a while, Shadow stops at a clearing. He gestures for you to sit, spreading the blanket out on the grass. "Here," he says, sitting beside you. He tilts his head back to look at the sky. "Look."

You follow his gaze. The stars are brilliant tonight, scattered across the inky sky like shards of a diamond. For a moment, you forget entirely about the nightmare as you gaze up at the night sky.

"Better?" Shadow asks, his voice quieter now.

You nod. "Yeah. Thanks."

He doesn’t say anything, but the slight upward twitch of his mouth tells you enough. Shadow leans back on his hands, his usual stoicism softening in the starlight. "You’re stronger than you think," he murmurs after a while. "Whatever it is you’re afraid of... it will not overtake you. Not while I’m here."

The two of you sit there in comfortavle silence for a moment.

Eventually, he nudges your shoulder gently. "You should try to sleep. I’ll keep watch."

You hesitate, but the exhaustion tugs at you. Lying down on the blanket, you close your eyes, taking in the nights hidden sounds. Cricket chirping, the leaves of the trees around you gently clashing against each other and shadiws steady breathing next to you. It was all almost harmonious.

As sleep starts to claim you, the last thing you hear is his voice, low and steady "I’ve got you. Nothing will hurt you while I’m here."

[moonmaiden1996]

Totally agree 💯 with your thoughts on Sanji as a romantic partner (he's my favourite 🥰). What is your opinion on him as a sexual partner? I somehow see him still as a virgin (would have died from that massive nosebleeding) 🤣 and shy, afraid of not pleasing his woman. Maybe more vanilla than into kinks. Lot of cuddling, kissing and holding hands. 🤔 What you think?

I love this question. Sanji is also my fav- you have good taste.

Okay, buckle up, folks—I've put some serious thought into this, and here comes a full-blown essay.

First off, I’m convinced Sanji is a virgin. Hear me out. I think even Oda might’ve hinted at this somewhere? The guy’s all about the romance of the relationship, not the deed itself. His intensity about love probably scares off anyone looking for casual fun. Add to that his chronic nosebleeds at even the hint of affection or attraction—it’s safe to say it takes someone very special to get over him losing his entire supply of blood through his nose to get to that level.

But let’s talk about Sanji as a lover. The man is a giver, full stop. His happiness comes from making you happy, no matter the lengths he has to go to. Sanji’s the kind of guy who could literally lose himself in your pleasure—like, "Oh, you’re enjoying this? Great, I’m done!" He’s probably the type to cum in his pants while he’s focusing on you.

In the early stages of your relationship, Sanji would be laser-focused on perfecting his technique. Picture him pouring over every guide, every book, every questionable magazine he can find to up his game. And don’t think he’d stop there—oh no, this man would shamelessly eavesdrop on his fellow crew members for tips. And yes, I absolutely believe he’d practice on a half-eaten peach in the privacy of his room. (RIP peaches, forever ruined for him he can't go near them without his pants tightening .)

Being the hopeless romantic he is, Sanji’s all about slow burns. He’d wait until marriage, all while showering you with kisses and cuddles—he thrives on emotional and physical connection. That said, if you weren’t a virgin, he’d be down for a little extra physical affection before marriage and the big event (cue eyebrow waggle). He wouldn’t mind your past; he’d just be thrilled to share this new chapter with you. And hey, if you’ve got pointers? Even better. Sanji’s a fast learner with a willingness to please.

Now, if you were a virgin, Sanji would handle it with the utmost care. This man would be terrified of messing it up and you never want him to touch you again (I feel like this is the biggest fear for him getting physical with you, that and hurting your even the slightest bit). Hence lots of prep, oils, and constant check-ins to make sure everything feels just right. He’d follow your instructions to the letter, treating the whole experience like a sacred ritual.

Now for the spicy part: fetishes.

I’m torn here. On one hand, I could see Sanji keeping things vanilla—classic positions, whatever works best for you, with a side of soul-stirring romance. But let’s not forget, this man is also prone to dramatic flair. I wouldn’t be shocked if he pulled out some next-level One Piece tantric lovemaking just to keep things interesting.

On the kinkier side, I think a breeding kink might be on the table. Sanji dreams of a big, loud, loving family, and the "practice makes perfect" mindset tracks perfectly with his character. Beyond that, he’d be open to experimenting—but with clear boundaries. Anything involving harm or discomfort? Absolutely off-limits. Sanji wants you happy and safe, always. Nothing you do or say will persuade him. Side note thought - he would be very down to mark you up with hickeys, something that doesn't hurt you but tells everyone your his really hits his possessive needs.

That said… I do get strong "step on me, mommy" vibes from him. Just putting it out there. Take that as you will.

At the end of the day, Sanji is all about love, care, and devotion. Whether he’s cooking for you, cuddling with you, or, ahem, other things *wink wink*, he’s 100% in. He lives to see you happy, and your joy and pleasure is the greatest reward for this passionate, hopeless romantic man.

[jakesimsgoodgirl]

Keep it in your pants

Pairing: Jake x fem!reader

synopsis: Y/Ns and her older brother heeseung share an apartment as they both look for other places to stay , But heeseung has to go out of town for the week for work, Y/N dosent want to stay alone in a busy place in the city and dosent feel safe enough to stay alone for the week. Luckily heeseungs best friend jake offers Y/N to stay at his place for the time being.

warnings: smut , fluff if you squint, choking , small mention of masturbation, oral (f,m receiving) fingering , spitting lmk if i missed anything

Here you are packing your suit case to stay at your brothers best friends apartment for the week, after heeseung breaking the news he had to go out of town for work , you felt uneasy at the thought of living alone in a busy city because you know people are unpredictable these days and your only freshly moved out of home.

Heeseung understood your concern and suggested you could stay with his best friend for the time being, before heeseung could even ask Jake had already overheard the whole conversation and immediately offered to help.

And who were you to decline such offer from such a good looking and kind hearted man? You had always seen jake as a sweetheart and pretty damn good looking all through the years of knowing him through heeseung, so you felt comfortable to stay with him knowing he would keep you safe and most importantly company.

pulling your 2 singular bags out of the car your greeted with jake’s beaming smile as he puts a hand out to offer to take your bag for you, how could you resist? you smile back “thank you jake” you huff as you grab your suit case and close the trunk.

as you walk into his apartment you are stopped at the sight of how clean and nice smelling his place is “wow” you say in awe admiring his place. Finally heeseung comes inside “ sorry if it’s a burden for her to stay” he says lightly “ never , i offered for a reason it’s totally fine” jake replies back grabbing a bottle of water from his fridge.

Heeseung was very aware of how down bad and horny jake can get at times , though it’s not that he was Distrusting of jake but just a tiny bit sceptical, although he likes to think jake would know way better than to try things with his best friends sister right? he shook the thought away seeing the way you two are already laughing and giggle as he helps you move your bags into the other room.

after all helping out setting things up for you heeseung was getting ready to leave for his out of town work but yet he had one final remark for jake before he left.

“jake y’know just make sure to keep it in your pants” heeseung laughs and winks at jake before you both hear the door click shut.

Jake laughs and palms his forehead “sorry about that Y/N” his eyes gleaming at you “it’s okay” you giggle at him. “So how come you didn’t wanna stay on your own?” jake takes a seat across from you on the couch , his head cocks in curiosity. “well im only freshly moved out of home and you know how people in this city can get nowadays i just feel a bit uneasy” you say , taking a sip of a glass of water , jake nods completely understanding your situation.

You had put a movie on ‘It ends with us’ to be precise. Both enjoying the movie together in the dark, only source of light being the TV. the radiating glow of the tv shining over jake’s figure and you can’t help but admire how stunning the man really is. Your antics don’t go unnoticed to jake , a small smirk creeping up on his face “ y’know the movies over there right” he says playfully with that shit eating grin that gets you every time. “shut up” you giggle slightly , watching the way he runs his hands through his hair , he knows you think he’s good looking and now he’s gonna take advantage of it.

When the time comes for getting ready for bed Jake had decided to have a shower , and on purpose left the door slightly cracked open just enough for you to see in. You had walked past the bathroom to go and grab some water from the kitchen when you catch a glimpse of his beautifully tanned skin and toned body ever so slightly through the almost half open door, he was standing there in only a towel around his waist which was one wrong move from falling to the floor.

And you’d be lying if you didn’t say the sight alone creates a pool in your panties and leaves you with vulgar and unimaginable thoughts. Your not wearing your most impressive pair of pajamas although you had brung your sexy pair just for jokes and now your thanking yourself for it. Because if he’s gonna mess and tease you you’re doing it right back.

Retreating back to your room to rummage through your suitcase. viola! you find your silk tank pajama top with lace detailing and your matching lace cheeky cut thong that’s ever so slightly covered by the hanging of your shirt. As you make your way back to lay on the couch , as suspected Jake walks out in nothing but a towel that could fall at any moment and you’re not saying you didn’t want it too.

“those pajamas look good on you” he raises his eyebrow clearly not realising the bottoms as you had a blanket over you. He subsides to his room for a brief moment and you make your way to the kitchen reaching for a glass out of a top cupboard. Un realising that jake had come back from his room , he stood at the kitchen counter in silence looking you up and down as he noticed your lacy thong and plump ass being shown off as your shirt lifts alongside your arms. “ you need some help?” he says walking towards you as you nod , grabbing a glass for you and placing it infront of you.

As the night went on you had woke up , your phone read 1:17 am and you rubbed your eyes decided to go and fetch a glass of water , on your way to the fridge you hear soft moans and heavy breathing ‘ surely not’ you think to yourself pressing your ear against the door, sure enough you hear jake jerking off in his room. you think over your options and decide to crack the door open a little, he takes no notice to your presence, his head thrown back in pleasure and mouth slightly open as he fucks his very own hand.

“want a little help there jake?” you speak lowly slightly startling him “oh im sorry Y/N” he’s flustered yet his expression changes when you walk toward him slowly beginning to tie your hair “don’t bother tying it baby i’ll hold it for you” he winks at you as you position yourself between his thighs , he grabs all of your hair making it into a makeshift ponytail.

you take a good look at his glistening and hard dick , again you’d be lying if you said his dick wasn’t massive , thick , long and veiny. you slowly sink your head down onto his length and he throws his head back in pleasure “oh fuck yeah baby” he bites his lip as you begin to suck his dick like your life depended on it, he guided your head up and down before you take him as deep as you can , your nose brushing over his abdomen and swallowing to maximise pressure “shit” he hisses out as he bucks his hips out , it’s such a filthy sight before him , saliva dripping from the corners of your mouth , tears swelling in your eyes and the sounds of you gagging but who was he to say he didn’t love it?

He pulls your head off him as you gasp for air “don’t wanna cum yet pretty” he says , grabbing you and making you lie on your back “ let me eat this pretty pussy” he whispers as he pushes your legs open and slides your panties to the side.

“shit your so wet for me? huh didn’t know you’d get so wet for your brothers friend?” he teases you admiring the sight of your glistening pussy before taking you in a lick of your folds, he makes out with your pussy entirely and flicks your clit in a way that sends you into another dimension “oh jake!” you whine out , hands going straight to his hair to pull on it as you shamelessly grind on his face “ yeah baby ride daddy’s face just like that “ he encourages as he slides in a finger making you squirm and moan out in pleasure. his tounge working absolute wonders on your pussy that had you seeing stars.

you whine and moan as his tounge flicks your clit and how his fingers are reaching the deepest parts of your pussy “ mm fuck jakey!” you moan pulling his face closer to your pussy “ oh shit ! fuck fuck fuck jake i’m gonna cum oh don’t stop!” you practically scream out. as jake quickly stops and moves back from your pussy , you whine and close your legs trying to get any type of friction as he just laughs at you “how needy” he smirks.

the way he man handles you and pulls you toward the end of the bed completely removing your panties and kicking his shorts off fully now. he rubs his pink tip across your pussy and you can’t help but shiver at the feeling, he then slowly pushes into you “good girl baby” he praises you as he watches your face twist , adjusting to his size. he wastes no time fucking into you at a pace that has you needing more “shit baby deeper fuck i want that dick so deep!” you moan out to him and he complies “yeah you want this dick all up in you?” he smirks and does rough yet deep strokes hitting all the right spots in you.

your moaning and whining gets louder and louder so loud he worries his neighbours will hear but who is he to care ? he fucks you so roughly and your cock drunk and fucked out face turns him on more , he brings a hand to your neck to choke you ever so slightly as you bite your lip and look up and him “oh daddy “ you whine to the feeling of his now slow yet deep strokes that hit your g spot every time “ tilt your head back baby” and you listen like the good girl you are. Jake holds your jaw and forges it open lightly before rightfully spitting into your mouth and you swear you almost came on the spot.

he continues to fuck the life out of you , pounding you and fucking you into the pillows a white ring of arousal forming at the base of his cock both coming closer to an orgasam “yeah baby you gonna be a good girl and cum with me?” jake grunts quickening his pace you simply nod . too fucked our and far gone to think about a reply , he knows that but as your moans get higher in pitch and your grabbing the sheets and screaming his name.

He pushes one last thrust into you before holding your hips steady and painting your insides white with his thick ropes of cum , that feeling sends you over the edge , your orgasam flushing over you as your legs shook, Jake pulled out earning a wince from the both of you and the feeling of emptiness. before grabbing a wet towel and helping the two of you clean up.

“holy shit” you exclaim laying in his bed , he chuckles at how sweaty and fucked out you looked. Jake lays down beside you pulling you into his embrace and playing with your hair as you fall asleep in each others arms .

And you both know heeseung can’t find out that he couldn’t keep it in his pants.

[multiheadcanons]

MERCS AND ANGER

scout: explosive like a firecracker. kinda boring from a distance but a danger in your hands. you really don’t want to be the guy he’s mad at, and probably not like a good friend of the guy either. otherwise the absolute grudge is really funny because he’s so creatively aggressive with how he insults people. and he doesn’t let shit go. it takes him a good long while before he’s ready to drop a feud. however, firecrackers, if you’re fast enough and ballsy enough, can be put out. you’ve maybe got a minute to take back what you say and all will be just fine. he might be annoyed with you for a couple of days, but you can bounce back.

soldier: explosive like a rocket. don’t give him an insult he has to think about. he’s gonna get madder that he had to think about it and he’s gonna come and kick your ass until he’s bored. and he will never get bored. has tried in incremental amounts to not get that mad anymore; nobody has a good time when he’s that mad. also a big shit talker, but the better term is “war decree”, because getting him angry is declaring war on him. and he is very frank with what the plan is when it comes to the attack. can, has tried, and actually has on two occasions involved the team in revenge plans. i don’t know how to quickly disable a rocket; so i would hope you do.

pyro: pyro will take their anger out on the battlefield. that’s when pyro gets weird and nobody wants to be around them at the base because they’re being weird on the battlefield. but at the base they don’t act any different. because normally the team does not anger pyro. sometimes pyro wakes up and is fueled with rage. at anything. at everything. sometimes they get so mad at themselves, and they don’t know why they get so mad. they’re just being themselves, as they were yesterday, and the day before, and the month prior. their imagination can buffer that with making the enemy team seem… squishier. fun to throw around because they just return back to their shape. they enjoy that. that’s really fun.

heavy: here’s the thing; heavy is a good and not messy guy, so heavy will make all efforts to discuss any problem he has with anyone, and does expect vice versa. if you’ve got a problem with him, his door and ears are open. he’s willing to talk about it. however, do not mistake that for weakness. i mean, come on. literally look at him. do you want to push him there if he’s willing to discuss it? really?

demo: demo will give you one (1) opportunity to course correct. after that you’re on his shit list. he’s got a physical list, a couple of pages, front to back, of peoples full government names, a glued on ID picture, and their most current address. not enough names on the list for a journal yet but he’s always willing to add. and getting on his shit list is permanent. you are not to speak to him. you are not to be within his eyesight. and if you are, there’s a problem. and you’ll get one (1) opportunity to course correct before it gets physical.

engineer: engie doesn’t get messy with his anger unless you take it there. and if you take it there, buddy that’s a game he loves to play. already has issues with people being in his space, so frankly if he’s mad at you, or getting to be upset with you, he will tell you, point blank “get somewhere away from me. immediately. don’t let me see you again today.” and within 24 hours he will be okay and ready to talk to you, and you can attempt to patch things up. but if you keep bugging him and keep bugging him and keep bugging him… he will absolutely have a conniption. he will yell. he will get in your face. however, that has nothing on his grudges. talk about a stew. he will sit on it. sit on it for days. process it while tinkering with his machines. and if he decides that what you did truly wasn’t forgivable? there is no one who can warn you about the storm coming your way. he makes your life miserable and you will never see him do it. first of all, anything you own with a wire is getting cut. batteries stolen, sockets with broken off fork teeth in them. he does not care if your whole house goes up in flames. he simply does not. so don’t ask. but also, he’ll disable your garage. he’ll put bleach in your engine. he’ll funnel your muffler into your AC if he felt justified in it. and you don’t know; nobody knows how he’s accomplishing it. and he won’t tell.

medic: medic, like pyro, takes his aggression out on the battlefield. except the doctor is worse because he’s just in general one to express his anger explosively. like you can’t miss the way his face will contort at you when you’ve pissed him off. petty things will earn a sorry soul the privilege to be a free fill of the doctor’s quota. he’ll go out of his way to find someone on a map so he can hack them to pieces. but when he’s just… angry, just wakes up angry; angry at himself because he knows if he wanted to he could change; he could have changed, he just didn’t want to, still doesn’t want to. some people call that regret. but he just gets mad. he pockets pyro those days. he pockets pyro when pyro is angry too. it’s always been a good time for him. he’ll feed into their delusions; yelling in their ear “don’t they look soft? don’t they look like they could stand some force?” and pyro gets so excited for it. they will rack up body after body after body, and normally they both would laugh. they would cackle. they would taunt their corpses. but pyro is the only one laughing. medic stands there and watches. and they go to the next one. and the next one. and the next one. and medic doesn’t laugh. but he’ll assure pyro he’s having fun. he’s having the time of his life.

sniper: sniper doesn’t really get mad. he gets annoyed, he gets irritated, and he talks mad shit about whoever he’s annoyed or irritated with; but he doesn’t ever get mad. because when he does he’s ready to fight and he does not care who is in the way. there’s no other way of putting it, he’ll beat the brakes off you and lord help whoever’s trying to hold him back because they will not be treated kindly either. so he has worked very hard to not make anger an immediate emotion.

spy: spy also does not get mad, because any situation he could possibly get mad at was a situation he didn’t predict and account for. and that’s on nobody else but him. spy does not normally get above extreme irritation before it becomes divinely gifted vitriolic annoyance. which he voices. loudly. to anyone that will listen. it is his sermon; you are a son of a bitch and should never be trusted again. and he spreads rumors like a motherfucker. and everyone spreads them?? it genuinely makes no sense when his teammates know this man is a liar. these men are just messy, because there’s really no way they could actually believe that scout’s hair was a well done toupee. THEY LIVE WITH SCOUT. THEY LIVE WITH SPY. THEY SEE WHAT THESE MEN DO EVERYDAY. they’re just messy and love gossip because there’s nobody else to talk to except for their scheduled monthly off day, which they normally get called in for anyway!

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

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132 or 1k for ⚖️:

---

“I’m sorry you’re feeling lonely, Chris,” Buck says. “I hope it’ll get better soon. But, you know, you can tell your dad that.”

Chris shrugs. “I… I can’t.”

“Why not?” Buck asks. 

“Because then… Then he…” Chris sighs. “He wins, I guess?”

If Chris admits he’s lonely, in his mind, it’s like admitting he was wrong to come. That he’s happier with Eddie. Oh, shit.

“Oh, Christopher,” Buck says. “He doesn’t feel, won’t feel, like he’s won anything at all. That’s not the way he’s thinking.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.” 

Chris nods. “I’ll think about it.”

“Okay,” Buck nods. “I’ll go tell them to stop.”

He ruffles Christopher’s hair affectionately, then walks back towards the scene of the argument, stomach twisting. They’re going back and forth about nothing, really. Whose fault something is. Eddie’s or his parents’. They need to stop.

“Hey!” Buck calls, interrupting them. Everyone stops to look at him. “He can hear every word of this.”

Eddie’s face falls. He rubs a stressed hand across his forehead, expression pinching.

“Crap. You’re right.”

“Great,” Helena says, looking almost triumphant. “Another thing he has to thank you for.”

Eddie looks lost. Buck can see the conflict running through his head. He’s right. He knows he’s right, about his mother lying to him. But he’s wrong, carrying on a fight Chris can hear. Like Buck had sort of warned him. He knows his parents will twist this against him, no matter what. He’s misstepped. 

“Okay,” Eddie sighs. “I’ll go. I’m going.”

“Good. Don’t just show up again,” she says. “We need to plan these visits appropriately, Eddie.”

“Yeah, okay,” Eddie mutters. “Whatever. Come on, Buck.”

Buck follows after him like a faithful dog, avoiding looking at or accidentally coming into physical contact with Ramon or Helena. He would love to send a little punitive future their ways, but he’s not going to do that without Eddie’s permission. And, hey. They don’t get to keep Chris forever. Maybe that’s enough. 

Eddie pauses in the open doorway. He looks back over his shoulder.

“Goodbye, Chris. I love you,” he calls, loud enough for Christopher to hear, but gentle enough to feel soft. 

He waits, just a moment, to see if Chris will reply. The house is quiet. So they go. 

⚖️

Buck drives the truck. Eddie’s in no state to be behind the wheel.

He’s… Well, Buck has seen him in worse states. Much worse states. Buck has seen him take a bat to his whole life, after all. This isn’t quite that. He’s crying, but he’s still. He’s looking out the window, eyes red and distant. He looks like he wants to disappear. He’s heard Buck’s reassurance. That Chris will come home. But he can’t feel it the way Buck does, because he hasn’t actually seen it. 

“Do you want to go back to the motel?” Buck says. “Pay for another night, just in case?”

Eddie shakes his head. 

“Come on, Eddie, he might-”

“Please, can we just go home?” Eddie cuts him off. His voice is strained, like it hurts him just to talk.

“Yeah, okay,” Buck says. He feels misery creeping into him. Utter misery. He sets his course for the exit that’ll take them back. “We’ll go home.”

“Thanks,” Eddie mumbles. He closes his eyes. A fresh flow of tears fall down his face. 

Buck has the sudden urge to hold him. To wipe his tears away. To do anything he can to make him feel better. But he’s driving. He can’t. And even if he could, would Eddie really want that?

They drive for maybe five more minutes before Eddie’s phone starts ringing. It rings twice before Eddie, still sort of frozen and dissociated, bothers to check it. 

“Fuck,” he breathes when he sees the caller ID. 

“What? Who is it?” Buck asks.

“Christopher.”

Buck’s heart jumps. “Well, answer it!”

Eddie does, but he looks nervous. Like Chris might be calling to say he hates Eddie and never wants to see him again. Buck knows better. 

“Chris?” Eddie answers, voice sort of trembling. “Is everything okay?”

He turns the phone on speaker, so Buck can overhear.

“Dad, I’m sorry,” Christopher replies. He’s clearly crying. “Come back. Please come back.” 

Buck is already planning to turn around at the next exit. He nods at Eddie. Like, yes, on it. Don’t worry. 

“Okay, we’re coming. We’re coming back,” Eddie promises. “What’s wrong, buddy? What’s happening?”

“I want to come home. Please don’t leave without me. I’m sorry.”

[hellfirenacht]

Anomaly Chapter 5

Fic Summary: You can talk to anyone in school with no problem. At least, anyone who’s not named Eddie Munson.

Chapter Summary: You and Eddie make some calls and get to know each other a little more.

Tags: Eddie Munson x Reader, one-sided enemies to lovers, one-sided pining, miscommunication trope, anxious-ish!Reader, fem!Reader, Reader is not described, no use of y/n

Word Count: 2.4k

Master List

No beta, you all should know better by now.

“You’re old enough to buy your own now, you know. I’m only gonna up-charge you.” 

“What? Can’t a girl just buy some smokes from her friend?” 

“Right. Friends.”

“Fine, then I’m supporting a local business.” 

“What do you actually want, Stacy?”

“I’m just making sure that you two are going to play nice.”

“What the Hell? Shouldn’t you be telling her that?”

“She’s always nice.”

“Right, and I’m the queen of Sheba.”

“Well then, your majesty, just give me my smokes and I’ll be on my way.”

Bev wasn’t too happy that Eddie was going to be coming in an hour and a half later than expected on his Wednesday shift but she waved it off. The Hideout survived without him for god knows how long, the small dive could handle losing a busboy for a few hours on a weekday night. 

He sauntered into Ms. Benson’s classroom a fashionable ten minutes late, and a few dollars richer. You were already sitting at a desk chatting with Ms. Benson about who-knows-what before taking his own seat on top of the desk. 

If Eddie had to be here, he might as well rebel in his own way. He really would rather be bussing tables and trying to convince Bev to give him extra time on stage than do school services with someone who hated him. 

“Nice of you to join us, Mr. Munson.” Ms. Benson said, ignoring the fact that he was on his desk. She pulled out a thick binder and a rolodex that looked like it would fall apart if she didn’t hold it just so. “In here, you’ll find the budget for Spring Day and all of the different vendors and events that we’ve used over the past ten years.” 

Being the smart woman that she was, she placed the rolodex in front of you and dropped the binder on Eddie’s lap. He raised an eyebrow and flipped through it casually, as if looking through the Spring Day binder would provide him with secrets to the school that he could use to force Higgins to let him graduate this year. 

“There’s a phone in the teachers lounge you can use.” She continued, grabbing her own purse. “Let me know what you come up with on Monday.” 

“Wait- are you leaving?” You asked, jaw dropped as Ms. Benson started out of the room. “You’re not gonna help?”

“There’s only one phone. Just get some quotes for vendors. All of the information is in the binder. Just close the door tight when you leave.”  

Your mouth was still agape as Ms. Benson left, which was very amusing to Eddie. It was dead silent before Eddie burst out in a maniacal cackle that echoed through the classroom and made you jump. That also amused Eddie. 

“Well well, it looks like it’s just us in charge of Spring Day.” He got off the desk and dropped the binder down where he had just been sitting. Eddie leaned over the binder and flipped through it. “I’m thinking evil clowns, adding balloon popping back but with knives, and a petting zoo with snakes and goats.” Eddie turned and grinned wide at you. 

“What, no fortune teller to tell you how you’re gonna die a gruesome death?” Your voice was flat, but Eddie could pick up the hint of amusement in your voice which made his grin widen. 

“I’m sure we can dress you up in something covered in stars. I’ll sit under the table and shake it. We’ll make a killing!” Eddie laughed. 

“A killing? Really?” You shook your head at the terrible joke and flipped through the rolodex with a sour look on your face. Eddie hadn’t meant to make a pun, but if it annoyed you he’d keep it up. 

Play nice.

As if Stacy had any say over what happened between the two of you. He barely knew either of you.

“I don’t think we’re supposed to charge for anything, anyway.” you continued, flipping through the cards almost as fast as Doug flipped through long boxes at the comic shop. 

“What doesn’t kill Higgens won’t hurt us.” Eddie pressed, not even fully invested in the idea himself. Something about his talk with Stacy just got under his skin, and the only way he could shake it was by getting under yours now. 

“I don’t think half of these businesses even exist anymore.” you said to yourself as you kept flipping through the rolodex with your good hand. Eddie sighed and figured you were ignoring him until you continued. “This laundromat shut down last year. I heard it was a front for some mafia and there was a shootout.”

Eddie perked up a little, had that been an attempt at playing along? It wasn’t completely in line, but everyone in town knew that the laundromat had just been flooded from the inside when a pipe burst. 

“There’s no mafia in Hawkins.” Eddie said, looking over your shoulder at the rolodex. “Only cults that sacrifice people to the dark forces.” 

You stopped messing with the rolodex, and Eddie wasn’t sure if he’d said something wrong. You had apologized before, maybe it was too soon to joke about it? 

Eddie was usually good at reading people, but you were harder to understand. 

“So, what’s the budget that we’re supposed to be working with?” You asked, changing the subject. 

“Three pennies and an expired coupon for Benny’s.” Eddie replied, flipping back to the first page. 

“Yeah, that sounds right. I guess there’s no room in the budget when the basketball team needs new jerseys or the cheerleaders need pom-poms.” you rolled your eyes, done messing with the rolodex. 

Eddie was a little surprised at the dig towards the cheerleaders, considering your best friend was one. Had been one. Why the hell had she wanted to buy smokes from him today?

The two of you finally got up and made your way to the teacher’s lounge. Ms. Teedee, the art teacher, gave him a half hearted wave as she finished washing her coffee cup. Eddie liked Ms. Teedee, she didn’t give a shit about his reputation. Art and shop were the only classes he had ever done consistently well in, so when he was saddled with a third senior year he decided to re-take art as an easy A. 

The two of you spent the rest of the afternoon calling places and taking down numbers. You did most of the talking, but Eddie took charge when you got up to use the bathroom. 

Eddie was surprised when you came back, well that you came back. He wouldn’t have been surprised if you had run for the hills and left him alone. But you did come back, two bags of chips in hand. One of them was offered to him. 

“Thanks...?” Eddie didn’t mean for that to come out as a question, but it did anyway. How was it that one minute you hated him, but another you were apologizing? You were scandalized to be left alone with him to work on this, and yet came back with food. 

He shouldn’t trust it, but he also wasn’t too good for free snacks. 

“So, what’s your deal?” Eddie asked, timing his question with you shoving a few large chips in your mouth. 

“Huh?” was your graceful reply as you covered your mouth with your hand. He could see that his timing was not appreciated, which made him feel better. 

“Your deal. Which of these fine cliques here at Hawkins Hell do you belong to?” Eddie elaborated, spreading his arms as if gesturing to a crowd when in reality he was gesturing to the table the phone was sitting on. 

You took a moment to finish chewing, giving him a glare as you finally got the chips down. Okay, maybe Eddie felt a little bad for that, as you had been nice enough to get him a snack. 

Play nice.

He was a dungeon master, he wasn’t known for playing nice. He could at least play fair though. 

“I don’t belong to anyone.” you said finally, flipping through the binder and not looking at him. “I got in late, made friends with Stacy and... I don’t know. This late in the game, cliques aren’t exactly taking new applicants. Not this close to graduation when everyone has known each other since elementary school.” 

Eddie looked at your broken wrist again, looking at all the different signatures. For someone who didn’t belong to any group, you sure were on everyone’s good side. 

Everyone had some group they belonged to. That’s how high school worked. The Freaks sat with him, the Jocks sat with their teams, the Science Nerds sat with the science nerds... that’s how high school- no, that’s how the world worked, according to Eddie. 

Your response would normally have you tucked away as “new kid” or “freshman” but neither of those fit you. You knew too many people. You hung out with an ex-cheerleader, but you weren’t exactly jumping around with excitement at the last pep-rally. Stacy still dressed like a cheerleader, and was just as nosy as one but you didn’t look popular. 

Not that there was anything wrong with the way you looked to Eddie, you just didn’t look or dress like the popular crowd. He could tell you apart from the near identical wave of perms and ponytails. 

What was your deal?

When Eddie didn’t respond in an appropriate amount of time for you, you responded with the same question. 

“What’s your deal, Eddie?” His name sounded foreign coming from your mouth. 

“Huh?” he asked, shoving a chip into his own mouth, mimicking you. You rubbed your face and let out a laugh, to his surprise. 

“What’s your deal? Or, I guess what’s Hellfire’s deal?” You clarified. 

“Well, you see, it’s a fantasy game-” 

“Not a cult?” 

“I can neither confirm nor deny that.” 

“Go on.”

You didn’t interrupt him again as he started explaining the bare basics of the game, figuring that you were just looking for an excuse to stop calling people for a moment. That was fine with Eddie, he’d happily sit here and rant about his favorite game in the teachers lounge, tainting the warden’s space with the game that they tried to hide away from the rest of the inmates. 

What he didn’t expect was for you to be listening so intently. You were looking at him, really really looking at him. If Eddie didn’t know any better, and he liked to think that he did, you seemed to be actually interested in the world he was opening up up to you. 

His eyes glanced down at your cast, and the curly signature of Chrissy Cunningham shimmered slightly on the underside of your cast. Eddie could barely make out her last name, but he could assume that the glitter gel pen signature belonged to the cheerleader. 

That reminded Eddie that, popular or not, you were still in a completely different world than him. One where people actually liked you and didn’t sneer at you for bullshit reasons. 

But then why were you looking at him so intensely? 

“So you’re playing make believe with dice and if you roll high you can do things and if you roll low you eat shit.” You said, crumpling up your bag of chips. 

It was a grossly simplified explanation of the game that Eddie had poured hundreds of hours into. 

“Yeah, basically.” At least that had killed a good fifteen minutes. 

“And you’re god.” You added, which Eddie did appreciate. 

“No, I’m Satan, remember?” He flashed you his most charming smile and you just laughed again. 

“You aren’t that bad.” You sounded like you meant that. 

“Tell that to my players, they say I’m worse than Satan.” He said with pride. 

Your conversation was interrupted by the bell, announcing that any clubs needed to pack up and leave. Eddie took that as your cue that you were done. 

You closed the binder and the notes that you two had taken over the past hour and took a deep breath. 

“Wait, shit, Mrs. Benson left. What do we do with this?” You asked, motioning to the binder and rolodex. “Do we just leave it here?”

Eddie wouldn’t have thought twice about just dumping it on one of the tables and leaving. He still had his shift to get to, but... 

“Come on, we’ll drop it on her desk.” he said, and walked out of the lounge before you could protest. 

You caught up to him a moment later, glaring at him for ditching you and leaving you to scramble with your things. Eddie wasn’t sure if he liked you more when you looked like you were hanging on his every word or looking at him with annoyance. Maybe Eddie just wasn’t sure if he liked you. He sure couldn’t tell if you like him at all. 

“It’s locked.” you said. 

“Barely. Make sure no one’s coming.” Eddie squatted down and pulled out a thin strip of plastic from his coat. He could feel his eyes on him and he looked up at you as you gaped. “Not me, look out for anyone else.” he clarified. 

Once you had looked away and down the hall, it didn’t take more than a few seconds for Eddie to jimmy the lock open. He grabbed the rolodex and the binder from you before you knew what was happening. 

Eddie had broken into the classroom, dropped the items off the desk, and slipped back out into the hallway in less than a minute. 

“How’d you learn to do that?” you asked, following him out towards the parking lot. 

Eddie just shrugged. “I’m a man of many talents.”

It was cool outside, the winter weather seemed to finally be on its way out. A small beep signaled you to the sleek car that Stacy drove and you waved at her. Being the good friend that she was, Stacy had offered to drive you home that night. 

“I guess, I’ll see you next week.” you said to Eddie. 

“Same bullshit time, same bullshit place.” he agreed, watching you hop into the car before heading off towards his own van and drive off. 

“Sooooo, how was your date?”

“It wasn’t a date, it was school.”

“Did you make out in the teachers lounge?” 

“No, I gave him a hand job in the janitor's closet.”

“The one by the gym, or the one by the science lab.”

“The gym. Smelled worse but at least there weren’t any dangerous chemicals.” 

“No, really, tell me what happened.”

“We called different places to get quotes for Spring Day. He also talked about Dungeons and Dragons for fifteen minutes.”

“And then you made out?”

“No.”

“But you wanted to.” 

“....Stacy, I’ve never wanted to blow someone more in my entire life.”

Author Notes: Sorry this took so long, I got so brain dead writing this. I really need to visit more of the source material. I love Eddie, but he just hasn't been talking to me much lately. Hopefully when Rise of Hellfire comes out it'll help lol

Tag List: 

 @eddiemunsonfuxks @kirsteng42 @strangereads @pedroschka @generoustrashpeach

@sheneedsrocknroll92 @cyanfairywren @crocworkships @tomtomslongdong @aphrogeneias

@ghcstpyre @totheforestandtheocean @stevekeeryswife @dreamyyy222222 @ajnerdess

@sp1dyb0y1008 @projectcampbell @emxxblog @thebadbatchfan

@transparentenemypenguin @ghoulsgraveyard @spread-the-hope @exploding-bonbon @paleidiot

@2spock @c14r3v1b3srs @yujyujj @saramelaniemoon @morganlolitta

@veemoon @mrsrdlw @eddieheart @bambibiest @mylovelycrazyworld

@sassidykassidy @cultish-corner @thedoubleexposurephotography @bambibiest @wheels-of-despair

@amieinghigh @hazydespair

[heaven-s-black-box]

Notes- Blabber Mouth Hydro Men

Return to File

Recovery date: January 5th, 2025

Description: Hey I just had an adorable idea from the anime tadaima okaeri, specifically the ending of episode 3, where the main characters discovered they were going to have a second child because of their first born, so I was wondering how would the genshin impact men react to this kind of situation

Notes: CW brief mentions of fertility issues on Childe's end, accidental pregnancy in Neuvillette's This work was recovered in conjunction with an anonymous researcher, we thank them for their contributions. Reader can carry children but no pronouns are used.

Back to directory

Childe

Man is overjoyed you’ve got one kid

Honestly wasn’t sure he could have them, between Abyssal contamination and the overall abuse his body has withstood

Plus his delusion

When he found out you were pregnant the first time, he actually cried

He wishes he could be with you two more often, but he has a duty to the Tsaritsa

And of course, now, to create a better world for your little one

It’s when he comes home from Fontain, all battered and bruised, that you find out you’re pregnant with your second

You join them and your kid starts talking to your belly about the story

Ajax, remembering how is own siblings did that before the birth of the next, immediately asked if you were pregnant

You jokingly scold your child for spoiling the surprise and Ajax pulls you into a big hug, crushing your child in the middle

You’re worried he’ll pull a stitch, and your child is complaining about being squished

But he’s ecstatic, he always wanted to give your kid a sibling… or twelve

One more is a good start though

Ayato

Children were always in his future, and until he met you he didn’t really care about that fact

Then you got together and he saw having children as more than just a duty

He’ll admit, having your first may have partly been due to political pressure

But he would never make you do anything you didn’t want to, he vowed that on your wedding day

Uses you and your child to get out of work, saying stuff like “you wanted me to have an heir, and now I have more duties to attend to”

It’s on one of these days where you three are at a children’s festival

Your child is looking at a bunch of toys and picks out a Sumerian made plushy from a traveling merchant

The kid comes back and presses it against your stomach, making a kissing sound

Ayato remembers how is mother told him he did something similar when she was pregnant with Ayaka

So he hugs you a little closer and kisses your temple, not one for making big scenes in public

You’re of course baffled because, really? This is how your husband finds out

When you get home he sends your little one off and asks if there’s something you’d like to tell him

Tease him a bit, saying you don’t know what he’s talking about

He’ll kneel down and kiss your stomach, thanking you for everything you do for him

Neuvillette

Doesn’t really think about having kids

You have the Melusine, and when he briefly considers having kids he quickly decides it’s a bad idea

Prepares to tell you as much if you bring it up, he’s a dragon who knows how that would work if it could at all

Well surprise surprise, it does

He’s worried all throughout your first pregnancy, but it winds up being fairly similar to a human pregnancy

You’ve always been on the same page that you’d like kids, it was really just the pregnancy that had him worried

So you two are happy with one

Neuvillette comes home from work one evening, and you greet him at the entrance with a kiss

Before he can call out to your kid, then come running in and he picks them up to kiss them on the cheek

Then they insist he kiss their sibling, and his brain stops working

He thought his senses were overacting, but no if your little one thought the same

Give his brain a second to restart, then it starts raining really hard outside

Happy tears of course, nothing could make him happier than knowing you’re about to have another little one

And this time he’ll be less panicky during the pregnancy, so he can enjoy the moments more

[arias-archive]

can you do a Lyra x grayson fic where Lyra gets body shamed online or in public by paparazzi and Grayson looses it???? And Lyra calms him down and it’s all fluffy??

a/n: YES I ABSOLUTELY CAN! LOVE ME SOME GRAYSONLYRA

warnings: body-shaming

description: number one rule of dating a famous guy: never read comments. but lyra has seen and heard enough that it barely affects her anymore, grayson, on the other hand, might go to jail for beating up said commenters

tig masterlist | masterlist

protective asshole (a graysonlyra fic)

The video must have been replayed several times now, the same criticising voice droning on from her phone speakers. Yet, her finger refused to move, hovering just a hairbreadth away from the screen.

Just a pathetic girl, encased in her boring little life, with nothing better to do. That’s what Lyra kept telling herself as she dragged the cursor back to rewatch the video, as if the opinions flung out would actually change.

If Lyra was being completely honest, it didn’t affect her as much as it should’ve. The video was awful, the words coming out of the girls mouth harsh and hateful, but somehow Lyra managed to keep it out. She wouldn’t allow herself to become ruffled by some trashy tart on social media.

Besides, Lyra didn’t even know the girl enough to be offended. Truly. She was thinner, compared to Lyra’s accentuated curves. Growing up a dancer meant that Lyra maintained her healthy figure, which was continued through running. But her body wouldn't go any slimmer, and trust her, she had tried. She couldn’t help the genetics which shaped her to be the woman she is today.

So Lyra learned to embrace herself for who she truly was, not what she looked like. Sure, to some she had a body that screamed party to some people more than it showcased dancer, but why did that matter?

She was so engrossed in the short clip that she completely forgot her boyfriend who was lounging right beside her. And sure enough, his unforgiving icy-eyes pierced through her phone, silently seething at the video.

Snapping out of her daze, she scrolled past it, but not before Grayson spoke up. “What was her username?” His tone was so cold, so menacing, Lyra almost flinched.

Instead, she sat up and snorted, shrugging lazily. “Don’t know, don’t really care.” She was proud of herself to find that she actually meant those words, not having to hide behind the bravado to bear to bullet wounds.

“Tell me it.” That was Grayson mad. Very mad. Nobody could do ‘very mad’ as well as Grayson Davenport Hawthorne after seeing someone insult his loved ones. Seriously. Talk about lethal.

“It doesn’t matter,” Lyra insisted with dismissive wave of her hand, as if swatting the very thought from existence.

That didn’t make Grayson forget it though. He simply raised a stubborn brow, silently daring her to dismiss him again. His hand clenched around his own phone, and she was certain he was plotting someone’s very tragic demise behind those eyes.

“Why do you need to know?” If he wanted to be stubborn, she could dish it right back. She has told him to leave it, but noooooo, he just couldn’t listen. Stupid asshole.

He was silent for a moment, jaw clenching and unclenching. “Nobody ever has the right to speak to you that way.” He swore under his breath, shaking his head. “Who do they think they are? I’ll sue them. I will destroy th-”

Lyra cut him off with a firm kiss, her warm breath dancing over his face. When she pulled back, she pried his death-grip fingers off his phone, interlocking her own fingers with his instead.

The kiss barely distracted him. If anything, he still looked ready to murder someone. Protective asshole.

“I don’t want you doing anything,” she told him quietly, face mere inches from his, “because I genuinely couldn’t care less about some idiot’s damn opinion.”

She took a deep breath, her hand squeezing his tighter, lending some of her patience. “They don’t know me, Grayson, so let them say what they want. This isn’t the first time, and you know it won’t be the last.”

She could still remember the utter shock she had felt the first time the media comment on her body. It was soon after her and Grayson’s relationship went public. Paparazzi shouted some idiotic insult about how she looked in the dress she was wearing. Lyra had never seen Grayson so volatile before. He has never, ever, lost his control like that. Normally, he was so unshakeable arrogant.

Anger was still etched onto his every sharp feature, making him appear like a statue carved from ice, cold and unflinching. She rubbed her thumb between the crease in his brows, smoothing it out. She let out another heavy sigh, manoeuvring her body so that she was laying on top of his, head tucked beneath his chin.

This relationship was still relatively new, and Grayson wasn’t used to being touchy with, well, anyone. So Lyra didn’t get offended when she felt him tense up beneath her, but she also didn’t pull away. The asshole was just going to have to get used to it.

It took him a moment before he dropped his phone onto the mattress, wrapping an arm around her loosely. The room was quiet, and a soft, peaceful quiet that was impossible to experience in their lives. It felt… nice.

“Thank you, though,” she whispered reluctantly, so he could drop the damn subject. “For wanting to protect me. But you know I don’t need it.” With her cheek pressed against his chest, she could hear the slightly unsteady patter of his heart. You wouldn’t be able to tell that from his face though.

“It shouldn’t be like this,” he muttered lowly, tracing circles on her back. “Being with me doesn’t merit that.” He pressed a soft kiss to the crown of her head, breathing her in. He blamed himself for this, as he did with everything else. No matter how many times she argued with him, he didn’t believe her. It wasn’t his fault.

Society loves to pick apart girls who date celebrities to make themselves feel worthier, as if that girl was the sole reason they weren’t the ones picked. It’s a shitty justification but it’s also true. Lyra made her peace with that.

The room was quiet again, the occasional rustle of sheets or soft sighs disturbing the peace. Grayson cleared his throat before he spoke up again. “Are you sure you’re okay?” He sounded slightly hesitant to ask the question, and Lyra had never known him to hesitate on much.

She nodded against his shirt, sticking up her thumb for good measure. “Yes. I mean it. I’m really not bothered.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to contact her. I’m sure I can get the message across withou-”

“Grayson.”

[galindasglinda]

ꕤ*. LOATHING OR LOVING? (gelphie ۶ৎ)

did glinda hate elphaba, or did she love her? she was always torn between the two.

something was different about her. no, not the green skin, not the powers.. something else.

glinda was always intrigued by the difference between elphaba and the others at shiz.

elphaba didn’t bow down and kiss glinda’s feet at her every move, unlike the others.

she kinda liked that.

so one evening, after a long day, glinda made it back to her dorm. elphaba already there, in her sleeping attire, in bed, with a book in hand.

“oh, hey” glinda shyly smiled as she closed the door.

“hello, galinda” elphaba spoke, without looking away from her book. glinda studied elphaba before doing or saying anything else.

glinda tried to read her, but it was hard. she sighed.

“elphaba, can i ask you something?

she hums, eyes still glued to the book. this frustrates glinda. she walks over to elphaba’s bed and gently takes the book out of elphaba’s hand. glinda’s face slightly heats as her fingertip softly brushes against elphaba’s.

“i ask that you be fully attentive to me for once” glinda sits the book down, before sitting on the bed. “sorry, what is your question?”

glinda looks down at her hands, before reverting back to elphaba’s gaze. “i want to know your perspective of me.”

elphaba made a face out of confusion and curiosity. “why?”

“i just.. need to know.” glinda was becoming desperate, “you’re one of the first to not follow me around like my own shadow. it’s different.. so please, tell me why.”

elphaba could sense the frustration and desperation in glinda’s body language and tone. elphaba closed her eyes, a deep breath leaving her body before speaking.

“my perspective? i don’t know. a pretty blonde, who gets everything handed to her.” elphaba mumbled, her gaze now going to her lap. glinda’s heart fluttered a little, elphaba thought she was pretty.

“you think i’m pretty?” glinda smiles.

elphaba couldn’t help but to roll her eyes, “yes galinda, i think you’re pretty.” glinda scoots closer, elphaba’s eyebrows furrowed.

she’s never had someone get this close to her. better yet, she never felt good intentions radiating off someone’s body before. elphaba felt her body relax slightly.

“i think you’re quite gorgeous yourself, elphie.”

elphie.

“can i call you elphie?” glinda’s voice sounded more soothing.

“it’s kinda of perky.. but i guess” elphaba stated. glinda chuckled, “i know, i know.”

the room was silent for a while, “you know, when you first arrived at shiz, i was kind of jealous.” glinda admitted.

“jealous of me? what for?”

“out of all the things i had, i still wanted one thing. i wanted to be magical.” she states, “i wanted madame morrible’s approval.”

“then you came along, and you had exactly what i wanted. magic and her attention.”

“but then.. my jealousy turned into something else.”

“what?”

“i don’t know. it’s like i wanted your attention, so i did things that i know would get it.”

“why do you want my attention galinda?”

“i don’t know!!!” galinda become flustered, all of these feelings were new to her. usually she would be the one making someone nervous. now it’s the complete opposite.

“i never disliked you elphaba, i’m actually quite fond of you.” she admits.

“really?” elphaba asks.

glinda takes the chance and grabs both of elphaba’s hand. “yes, really. and i was hoping if we could be friends?” glinda scanned elphaba’s face for approval, desperate for an answer.

glinda’s staring came to a stop when she felt her hands being squeezed. she looked down and elphaba’s grip on her hands got tighter.

glinda smiled at the jester, she ran her thumb across elphaba’s hand before looking back up to meet her eyes.

“yes, galinda. we’re friends.”

aw, my first gelphie fic!

kinda bad, but this my

first time writing in a while,

i need to warm back up!

more coming soon!!

enjoy 🎀

[littlelamy]

Incoming letter from Pope 💌

Hey,

Alright, I’m just gonna get straight to the point because I really hate beating around the bush. I’ve been thinking about this for a while now, and honestly, it’s been bugging me for longer than I care to admit. So, here it goes—how would you feel about going on a date with me?

Look, I know what you’re probably thinking. Pope Heyward? The guy who’s always got his head in the books, who tends to overthink everything, and doesn’t exactly have the greatest track record when it comes to... well, talking to people. Yeah, I get it. I know I’m not the most obvious guy to ask someone out, and maybe that’s why I’ve been holding back, but here’s the thing—life’s too short to keep waiting for the “perfect” moment. It’s not like I have some kind of flawless game plan for this. I don’t have some elaborate speech planned out, and I definitely didn’t rehearse this in front of a mirror or anything... no, I swear I didn’t do that. But I guess what I’m trying to say is, I think you’re worth the shot.

You know, sometimes people don’t see things right in front of them, and they’re too busy focusing on other crap. You’d think that after all the crazy stuff I’ve been through, I’d have a better handle on this, but no—this whole asking you out thing? It’s messing with my head, and that’s saying something because I like to think I’ve got a pretty solid grip on things. But I don’t know, there’s just something about you that makes me want to take that leap. And maybe it’s stupid, but I’m willing to risk it. I mean, what’s the worst that can happen? You say no? Okay, cool. At least I’ll know. But, if you say yes? Well, that’s when things could really get interesting.

I’m not trying to pretend like I’m some smooth talker. Hell, I’d probably say something awkward and stumble over my words. It’s just who I am, you know? I mean, I could try to come up with some clever way to ask you out—say something profound, maybe even try to charm you—but the truth is, I don’t have any fancy lines. So, I’m just gonna be honest and say that I’d really love to take you out sometime. No gimmicks, no act. Just me, you, maybe some pizza, and hopefully a decent conversation. Sound like something worth trying?

I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I kind of suck at putting myself out there. I mean, I’ve had some opportunities before, and I’ve kind of just... let them slip by. Part of me feels like I should’ve just asked earlier. I know I should’ve, but then I get caught up in overthinking and second-guessing myself. I mean, I do it all the time. I think I’ve spent way too much time imagining different scenarios in my head, so much that I’ve worked myself into a nervous wreck even thinking about it. But here’s the thing: I’m not getting any younger, and I sure as hell don’t want to look back and regret not giving this a shot. So, here I am, hoping you’ll just give me a chance to prove I’m worth it. You’ve got nothing to lose, right?

Now, I know what you might be thinking—what makes me think I’m the right person to ask you out? And honestly, I get it. But I’ve been around enough to know what I want, and what I want right now is to get to know you better. Sure, we’ve hung out here and there, and yeah, I’ve probably made a fool of myself a few times already. But here’s the thing—I’m not perfect, and I don’t expect you to be either. We all have our flaws, and I think we could really learn a lot from each other.

So, I’m just gonna put it out there. I’m not trying to force anything or rush you into a decision. Hell, you don’t even have to give me an answer right away. But just think about it, alright? Maybe you could give me a shot to show you what I’m about. We could do something simple, like grab a drink or check out that new restaurant you mentioned. Nothing too crazy. Maybe I’ll even let you pick where we go. I promise, I won’t drag you into a weird, over-the-top date that makes you want to bolt for the door. I mean, I’ll try my best not to, anyway.

But hey, I don’t know. Maybe I’m just crazy for thinking you’d want to go out with me, or maybe you’re sitting there wondering if this whole thing is just some weird joke. It’s not, though. This is real, and I’m not messing around. I’m honestly trying to put myself out there and take a chance because I think you’re amazing. So, that’s where I’m at.

If you say yes, then great. I’ll probably be a little nervous (okay, a lot nervous), but I promise I’ll do my best to make it worth your time. If you say no... well, I’ll respect that. But I’ll still be glad I asked. I won’t hold it against you, and I’m not going to be awkward or weird about it, I swear. I’m just trying to do something that feels right, even if it’s a little terrifying.

Anyway, I don’t want to drag this out too much longer. You probably get the gist of it by now. I’m asking you out because I think you’re worth it, and I’d like to see where things could go. No pressure, though. Just... think about it.

So, what do you say? Want to go grab some pizza with me sometime?

Pope

taglist: @namelesslosers @maybanksangel @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @rafesheaven @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog @slavicangelmuah @alivinggirl @nemesyaaa

[bone-yarddz]

Dragon Jayce and Viktor except rough drafts that I love/hate.

I’ll always be better at dragon AUs than anything else! So! Here is some random info about it:

- Viktor is probably not like. SMALL, but medium sized for a dragon. He’s kind of, feathery or whatever you want to call the dragon fluff, he’s got a weasel/raptor inspiration tbh. He was born wingless from the grey on top of other shitty mutations that cause his leg pain and overall sickness. (Similar to the show, just has a different kind of disability that limits him more than his human counterpart) He doesn’t have a crutch/cane in this universe since he can limp on three legs if the bad one is bothering him. His main problem is flying though. He works in a city in the sky after all. I think he has the same character development and all that. Though his relationship with others is a LITTLE different since his dragon disability is a bit more. Limiting? I imagine more frustration from piltovians since they think he doesn’t belong (for A LOT of reasons) in piltover. They think he makes their image look bad or whatever, because he’s like. A walking example of how badly they failed the other half of their city (and I think that goes for the show too tbh but this is more exaggerated) He also lacks the ability to breath fire but that’s not a big deal since most dragons don’t do that anyway. (He adds it to his list of new things he can do as Machine Herald though.)

- Machine Herald Viktor is essentially the same but he’s more driven in specifically helping Zaun compared to EVERYONE. (So Salo may or may not be part of his followers) He does have the hexarm still it’s just replacing his front arm instead of being an extra one. His wings are the main new bits that catch attention now.

- Jayce is pretty big for a dragon, but not full grown so he appears medium stil. He’s definitely “top heavy” so he can’t stand back on his hind legs like some dragons can. His dad is distantly related to Caitlyn’s dad. So. They’re very far removed family in this universe. Also that’s why his hair is bluish. His mom tried taking him back to piltover after his dad died and then the whole mage thing happened. So they’re technically foreigners even if his dad lived in Piltover once. Jayce is essentially a cliche dragon. The tusks are a little irregular though. Hehe. His season two injury is his wing and horn. The horn breaks which just. Causes really bad migraines every now and then if he doesn’t treat it. And his wing is permanently busted haha. Still has to climb the spire thing hehe. Also the weapons he makes might be different since dragons don’t really… NEED a gauntlet or hammer. Also, Jayce can breathe fire.

Also! Some notes on the architecture for Piltover (Specifically Piltover Academy) since I imagine it more like, a literal city in the sky.

Last thing is that I imagine grey (and shimmer in a very complex and weird way) mutates dragons to have no wings or dysfunctional wings so lots of Zaunites started giving birth to flightless dragonets (like Viktor, Ekko, Vander, Vi & Jinx, etc.) which is a big problem because both cities weren’t built with the idea that a dragon wouldn’t be able to fly to access points. As time goes on though Zaun has become more grounded and less in the air and Piltover has made the smallest changes for flightless dragons that come up. Other cities don’t have this problem though, such as Noxus, so most foreigners find it appalling that could even happen to a whole city.

[kieumy]

I think the problem now is that it directly involves Louis. He was the one who blocked those fans and he was the one who asked for privacy for the child (9 years late) it's not just fandom being annoying as always.

And as long as more fans continue to say that they are blocked or create protection accounts for Louis, the discussion will not stop.

i’m trying to word this in a way that doesn’t come off as dismissive, because yeah louis blocking larries sucks, but we can’t really do anything about it. we can sit here and discuss how he should stay away from fandom spaces, and i’d agree with you, but it won’t change the fact that he chooses to put himself in that position. he’s a grown man who can make his own choices, and if he wants to lurk around and if he wants to block people, well, that’s his choice. how you deal with it is your decision

as i said previously i don’t like talking about or discussing babygate on my blog, but i will for the sake of your ask. i agree that he should’ve been protected from the beginning, but now i really hope they actually follow through. also, i find the fact someone posted details about the school freddie goes to creepy and disgusting, all to prove he’s not louis’ kid. you all have your beliefs, what else do you need? just leave the kid alone. stop obsessing over that family. you’re basically giving them what they want: attention. we can’t do anything about it, nor do we actually know all the details. it’s better to just let it be

and that’s also what it comes down to: attention. the more attention you give something the more it happens. how about we stop giving attention to these people? why do we need to know so much about the lives of these strangers? i know they post it on their social media, but if you stop engaging then it loses power. it doesn’t matter anymore

i’m saying this from the bottom of my heart: this need to know every single step louis and harry take, everything they do, everything they believe, everyone they engage with, everything their families do, their locations, it needs to stop. it’s invasive. it’s unhealthy. it’s parasocial. it’s not good. it fucks you up. i don’t care if louis says things like i need you and you need me, that’s not an invitation to follow him and stalk him. they’re not our friends. they’re not our family. we are fans, that’s it. we aren’t entitled to know personal details of their lives. i may sound harsh, but it’s the truth. we also have to acknowledge that these expectations we have of them will not always be a reality, because they’re human, and humans are complex and imperfect and they make mistakes and sometimes they do things that you will not like and that doesn’t make someone evil. putting them on a pedestal will only lead to heartache, disappointment and resentment