#i know a bunch of the What but basically none of the Why

[callsign-rogueone]

questions

Ridoc Gamlyn x reader (sweetheart!) Part three of Ridoc and Sweetheart's story words: 2.9k 🏷: no real book spoilers, this will make more sense if you've read Resson (Garrick's version) but it's not required, set a week or two into Iron Flame, this is a sweetheart chapter so warning for intrusive / self-deprecating thoughts and anxiety spirals, I made a bunch of stuff up about Ridoc's life because RY never told us anything, Rhith being a cool mom, this hasn't been proofread, oops. gonna go have a bagel now byeeee

Rhith had told you that Ridoc would meet you at the gates at eleven — so naturally you’ve been standing there since 10:45, rocking back and forth on your heels and peeling your cuticles.

Why did you agree to do this? Actually, this was your idea — why did you bring it up? What if he’s not going to show up, and you’re just going to stand here for an hour like an idiot?

“Hey! Am I late?” he asks, startling you out of your thoughts. He’s a little out of breath, like he’d ran here, but he offers you a wide smile nonetheless.

You open your mouth to speak just as the bells chime. 

“Guess not,” he laughs when they’re done. “You ready to go?”

You nod, stuffing your hands into your pockets so he can’t see the state of your fingers. Thankfully it’s not too hot to wear your flight jacket. This is your first venture into town, and you don’t want to have your relic on display when you’re in a new place — just going is scary enough.

He leads the way — of course he knows where you’re going. He probably goes out every weekend with his friends; another way you’re completely different.

“I figured we could play twenty questions,” he offers. “Get to know each other a little more. You can go first, if you want.”

You take a second to remember how to speak again. “Alright, um… do you have any hobbies?”

“Coming up with jokes is pretty time consuming.”

“And here I thought they were all completely spontaneous,” you say, shaking your head. “Do you write them all down in that fabled diary of yours?”

He laughs. “Would you believe me if I said I didn’t actually have one?”

You tilt your head to the side, considering it. “Only because I don’t see you spending your free time sitting down, writing.” 

“You wound me, sweetheart. I assure you, I’m perfectly capable of writing complete sentences.”

“I never said you weren’t. I just said that I didn’t see you doing it.”

“Fair. Tell me about your book,” he prompts. “The one you’re always carrying around.”

“That’s not a question.”

He gives you a sly smile. “Well played. I’ll rephrase, then. What’s the book about? Do you like it?”

“That’s two questions.”

He laughs, warm and full. “I can’t get anything past you, can I?”

“Three.”

“Okay, okay. The first one, then — what's it about?”

“The main character is a trained assassin who is called before the king to join a contest to become his hitman, basically. But the contestants keep getting murdered in the night by some creature that they can’t track down.  It’s part of a series, but I’ve never seen the other volumes anywhere. I like to imagine a different ending every time I read it.”

“You’ve read it more than once?”

You ignore the fact that that’s yet another question, answering it without protest. “Yeah. I know that’s dumb, but it was the book I was in the middle of when my life went to shit. It’s technically property of the library in Aretia, but it was burnt to the ground, so I never gave it back.”

Your heart beats a little faster at the mention of your hometown, and you immediately regret bringing it up, but thankfully Ridoc seems none the wiser. 

“There’s nothing dumb about it if it makes you happy.”

You’ve just stepped into the tiny restaurant when a man that you guess is the owner sees Ridoc and pulls him into a tight hug. “I was wondering when you’d bring your girlfriend!”

Your cheeks warm, but you don’t correct him — that would be too awkward.

Ridoc doesn’t correct him either. “I set up Ezra here with ice that never melts,” he explains with a smile.

“It’s been a blessing. Keeps everything fresh longer, so I don’t have to waste it. You two sit — I’ll make you something special, on the house.” He disappears into the tiny kitchen in the back, leaving the two of you alone in the nearly-empty dining room. 

Ridoc gestures to a table in the corner, away from the door, and you settle into the chair silently. You can’t help but run through Garrick’s mental checklist — your back is to the wall, and you have clear sight of the two exits. You have a knife in your right boot and one in your left sleeve — plus the blunt one laid on the table in front of you. The fork would probably do more damage, though.

“I think it’s your turn.”

“Hm? Oh. Right.” You take a moment to look at him. “Why are you here?”

He gives you a stupid grin. “Because you asked me on a date.”

You roll your eyes. “No, I mean, why Basgiath? Why the rider’s quadrant?”

“Oh, I know. I just wanted to remind you that this whole thing was your idea. But really… probably because I’m an adrenaline junkie who feels like he has to prove to the world that he’s not an idiot. And I’ve always admired the riders and their magic. We can do some pretty cool shit.” 

There’s a pause, and his voice softens as he continues. “I know you didn’t want to be here, so I probably sound super ignorant saying all that. I do think it’s fucked up that you didn’t get a choice — and the way that they handled all of it.”

“I respect your answer. It was honest.”

His turn for a question. “How do you feel about it, really, being here? Not here as in here,” he clarifies, tapping the table, “but at Basgiath.”

You look at him for a second. “Is that your question, or…”

“It can be. But if you don’t want to talk about it, we can go back to the dumb ones.”

“No, it’s fine,” you say quietly, thinking for a second. “I’ve accepted it, but that doesn’t make it any less terrifying.”

He’s quiet, giving you space to elaborate — the same way Garrick does; not prying, but silently offering to let you tell him what you’re thinking, if you want to.

“Challenges are the one thing here that doesn’t scare me, because I don’t have to think about it anymore. I know what to do if someone takes a swing at me, and I know how to disarm someone, because Garrick made me practice hundreds of times. But everything else…” 

“Is uncertain and unfamiliar, and therefore scary,” he finishes for you. 

You’re a little surprised by the gentle tone of his voice, the lack of judgment in his words. “That pretty much sums it up.”

Another pause.

“I’ve had an anxiety disorder pretty much my whole life,” you admit. “I was that kid in school that everyone thought couldn’t speak, because I never talked to anyone, except my siblings. Liam was my first real friend who was my age. He didn’t mind the quiet. We would just sit together, and he’d do his wood carvings while I read my books. That was good enough for both of us.”

“Where are they now? Your siblings, I mean.”

You’re silent for a moment, looking down at the tablecloth and the barely distinguishable pattern of flowers woven into it. 

“I know that’s two in a row for me,” he says, backpedaling. “And you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

“I had a brother and a sister. They were eight and ten years older than me, but they were my best friends. I think they knew that I didn’t have anyone my age, so they always let me tag along for everything until they left for Basgiath.”

“They went here?”

You nod. “As infantry. When they graduated, they joined Fen Riorson’s movement, and a few years later, they were executed along with my parents.”

“I’m so sorry,” he says softly. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

Something compels you to keep talking, to push past the awkwardness and condolences. “I don’t mind talking about them. It’s hard, but they were an important part of my life, and they deserve to be remembered. Losing them was devastating, but Garrick and my foster sister helped fill that void.”

You trace a fingernail over one of the tiny flowers. “I think… I think that’s why I kept pushing you away, and why I haven’t really made any friends here. Being marked doesn’t help, but I can never let myself get close to anyone, because everyone I’ve ever been close to has left me, one way or another.”

You can’t bring yourself to say “died” — and that wouldn’t be quite correct, either. Garrick is very much alive, last you’d heard, but he’s at least a twelve hour flight away. 

“I’m sorry,” he says softly. “I only met her twice, but she was always kind to me and everyone she met.”

It takes you a second to realize that he means your foster sister — as far as Ridoc and the rest of the school know, she’d died at Resson along with Liam and Soleil.

“She was,” you say softly. 

It feels weird speaking about her in the past tense. You know she’s not dead, that she’s safe with Brennan and the elders, but the last time you saw her, she might as well have been — she’d felt so cold, and looked so drained, unable to respond to you or even open her eyes. 

She has to be awake by now, starting to recover. She has to push through, if for no reason other than that it would absolutely shatter both you and Garrick if she didn’t. 

Ridoc exhales, choosing his next words carefully. “I really am sorry. You shouldn’t have had to go through any of that, especially so young. But for what it’s worth, which probably isn’t a lot — I think you’re handling it all incredibly well, and you’re really brave for it.”

You, handling anything well? and being brave? Yeah, right. You take a sip of water to cover the look of dry disbelief on your face, but he sees it anyway. 

“I mean it. Bravery isn’t “never being scared”, it’s “being scared but doing the scary thing anyway”, and you’ve been doing that every day for the last year — for your whole life, honestly. I think that’s admirable.”

You blink at him for a moment, surprised. 

“It’s true,” Rhith says gently. 

“Thank you,” you say softly — to both of them. “I’ve never thought about it like that before.”

He offers you a soft smile. “I think that’s enough deep questions for now. Thank you for telling me all of that, though. I’m sure it wasn’t easy.”

“It wasn’t,” you agree. “But I feel… lighter.”

“Lighter is good.”

Ezra arrives at the perfect time, holding a tray with two plates of steaming noodles and two glasses of water, placing them in front of you and making a quick exit.

Ridoc brushes a hand against his glass, and you watch the pattern of frost crawl over the edges as it chills itself near instantly. “Want me to do yours?”

You blink, realizing he’s speaking to you. “Sure. Thank you.”

He pushes the cold glass toward you, taking the other and chilling it for himself.

The question comes out before you can think. “How long did it take you to get used to the cold?”

He looks up at you, surprised. “Not long. A week, maybe. I run hot, so sometimes it’s kinda nice.”

You nod in understanding. He’d been warm to the touch when he’d wrapped his arms around you, and you’d melted right into him. That was a first. But so is this, and it seems to be going okay.

You both eat without further discussion, every minute of quiet a little more comfortable than the last. The food is good — better than anything they serve at Basgiath. 

“So, where’s home for you?” you ask after a while.

“Deaconshire,” he answers. “My dad’s still out there. It’s been just me and him for a while.”

“Not too far, then,” you comment, not wanting to draw attention to the fact that he hadn’t mentioned his mother. 

“Yeah. I’ve thought about going AWOL for an afternoon, just to see him for an hour or two. But at least the letters will arrive fast.”

“Right,” you say softly, pushing the last piece of pasta around your plate idly. 

It hadn’t really sunk in yet that you can write letters now, as a second year. You could write to Garrick, but it would be too dangerous to send anything to Aretia, with the professors reading everything to make sure there’s no classified information being spread. You might be able to write to the Duke, and hope he passes it on to the right people, but that would still be deemed suspicious. 

Maybe Bodhi could help you.

“Where’d Garrick get stationed?” he asks.

“Samara,” you answer quietly. 

He winces, knowing that’s right on the front between Navarre and Poromiel, but he recovers quickly. “He’s with Xaden, right? They’ll take care of each other.”

“Yeah.”

“They’ll be fine,” he reassures. “They were the two biggest, most intimidating dudes in fourth wing. Nobody’s going to mess with them — but if anyone’s dumb enough to try, they’ll get what’s coming to them. And they can definitely kick ass in the air, too.”

He’s right — they’ll be fine.

Probably.

“Yeah,” you say again, hoping it sounds convincing. “They can definitely hold their own.” But against wyvern… what if what happened to Deigh happens to Chradh or Sgaeyl, and there’s nothing they can do? 

You force the thought out of your head before the universe can hear it and make it come true. 

“You ready to head back?” he asks gently.

You nod in affirmation, and he gets up, finding Ezra. The owner bids him a cheerful goodbye that includes a hearty pat on the back, while you stand by the table and offer him a weak wave and a soft thank you.

The walk back to the school is quiet, only the crunching of gravel under your boots, but this time the silence isn’t as loud.

You’ve already said everything you needed to say, laid all your cards face up on the table and shown them to the other — almost all of them, you think with a little flare of guilt, but there are some things you just can’t tell anyone, for the sake of Tyrrendor in its entirety.

“This one’s mine,” you say quietly, stopping in front of your door. 

You call it yours, but it doesn’t feel that way. Just because you sleep here and your stuff is piled up in the corner, yet to be unpacked, doesn’t make it feel like yours, and doesn’t make it feel safe, despite the ward that Garrick had helped you put up before he left for Samara with Xaden.

Ridoc offers you a warm smile. “Thank you for taking a chance on me. I’d really like to see you again, if you want.”

“I’d like that too.”

He lingers, and for a moment you’re worried that he’s expecting something of you, but he remains a few steps away, his hands in his pockets.

“Thank you,” you add. “For today. And for finding me yesterday.”

“Of course, sweetheart. And next time you start to feel that way, you can have Rhith tell Aotrom to get me, okay? You shouldn’t have to deal with that alone.”

“Okay,” you say softly. 

He gives you another knee-weakening smile before he heads off, disappearing into a room that must be his — eight doors down, on the other side of the hall.

You make it inside just as the bells strike twelve thirty. The afternoon is still young.

You decide to unpack — starting by shoving the box of your sister’s things into the bottom of the armoire. You’d burned most of her stuff, to maintain the appearance that she’s actually dead, but you and Garrick had both taken some for yourselves. Malek couldn’t get mad about that, right?

You don’t know if you should worry what he thinks or not — you despise him for taking everyone away from you, but you need to remain in his good graces if you want to keep the few people you have left. But you aren’t sure how — it remains unclear what you did, or didn’t do, to deserve that. 

“It was nothing you did,” Rhith says gently, startling you. “And you didn’t deserve it.”

“Sorry,” you stammer. “I didn’t mean to project that to you.”

“We’ve talked about the apologies, sweet one,” she prods. “They’re never necessary.”

“Sor—” you stop yourself before you can finish the word. “I’ll work on that.”

She changes the subject for you. “I’m proud of what you did today. I know that was difficult for you.”

“It’s easier with him,” you say quietly. “I don’t know why, but it is.”

“Many things don’t require explanation. It is enough to simply appreciate them.” 

Spoken like a true green. “I wish I could be as logical as you,” you sigh. 

“There is value in both logic and emotion, but there is a balance to be found between them.”

You sit with the statement for a moment as you start to fold the laundry you’d shoved into a bag and dragged up the stairs when you’d moved, trying to smooth out the wrinkles to no avail.

“What do you think?” you ask. “about him, I mean.”

“I think he has a good heart. He genuinely cares for you, but it is your decision whether to trust him or not. And even if you do, there are some things that he can never know.”

“Yeah,” you say softly. “I know.”

“I’m proud of you, my girl.”

You’re a little bit proud of yourself too.

[nyankochan]

Question about Fairy Tail

You know what’s one thing that’s never been clear to me? 🤔And I’ve been a die hard fan of Fairy Tail since I was a kid and read the entire main series + watched it. But just exactly how old are Natsu and Gajeel?

In the Manga, they’re the only two dragon slayers whose age is listed as unknown. And we know from the Battle of Fairy Tail Arc the two of them are at least 80+ because they were trapped in the guild with Makarov. From chapter 108 and 111.

We also eventually learn from Zeref during the Alvarez Arc that all the dragon slayers were sent 400 years into the future to defeat Acnologia. From chapter 465 of the manga.

But if that’s the case, then why in the manga is Wendy’s age listed at 12 and Sting and Rogue are listed as 19?

We also know that the three of them were the same age, but because of the 7 year gap on Tenrou Island, Wendy didn’t age. Gajeel and Natsu were like the two older brothers (how much older?) that the younger ones all looked up to. But still, it adds up with Sting and Rogue being 19. From chapter 510:

We know Natsu is definitely at least over the age of 400 due to Zeref’s age and the timeline of his backstory with the dragon’s attacking their village. But was Natsu’s age at one point stalled due to being revived? Or does he even age at all? And what about Gajeel? I haven’t caught up to 100 year quest, so I’m not sure if things are revealed later on in the series about his past before meeting Metallicana.

But then again, if all the Dragon Slayers are also from the past, then why do Sting, Rogue, & Wendy have canonical ages?

I also wonder about their pasts too before meeting their dragons. These poor children were all a bunch of orphans who grew up with their dragon parents. They actually all knew each other and grew up together but basically lost any memories of them being practically family. 🙁

Their ages have always just been a big mystery to me. My best guess is perhaps prior to Tenrou Island, Gajeel and Natsu were around 18-19 (physically) like most of the other children from Fairy Tail. Lucy, Levy and Lisanna are 17. Gray, Cana and Elfman are 18. Erza and Mirajane are 19. Laxus was a little older than everyone at 23.

If they weren’t trapped on Tenrou, then Gajeel and Natsu would maybe be around 25-26. Then Sting, Rogue, and Wendy would be 19. I guess this kinda makes sense. It’s a cute little age gap between people who were supposed to be like siblings.

So how old were they all when their dragon’s first disappear in X777?

If we take the guestimated year Lucy joined Fairy Tail, which is X784, that’s 7 years after the dragons disappeared. If at that time, Wendy, Rogue and Sting are all 12 years old, that means they were only 5 years old when their parents disappeared!?

By this guess, Natsu and Gajeel were then around 11-12 years old when their dragons disappeared, making them 6-7 years older than Wendy, Sting and Rogue. Again! This is just my guess! None of this has been actually confirmed.

Either this is a plot hole or I’m just stupid and missed something along the way. Again, I’m not caught up to 100 year quest, so maybe this gets explained later. But I think and wonder about it a lot.

[dravidious]

You're more amazing than being

Yesterday I sat down to play some Tunic and when I got up it had been 6 hours. I'm so happy to be on spring break

[ponderingmoonlight]

Reader and Sanemi going from hating to marrying each other + meeting up with the Kamado family post infinity castle

Pairing: Sanemi x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,2k

Synopsis: Gosh, you hated that guy. Just the way the wind hashira talked to you pushed you over the edge far too often. Little did you know that you'll feel different about that hot-tempered man after everything is over, that you'll find yourself convincing your husband to meet the Kamado family...

Warnings: THIS IS SPOILER FREE Y'ALL, I wrote this without ANY spoilers in it, so none of the outcome is what actually happens in the manga like that (I actually aim for a spoiler-free blog so anime onlys don't have to worry, death of basically every other hashira, language, angst to fluff

Special thanks to cutie patootie @effetsecndaires for that super cute suggestion 🤍

„Me and that guy?“

„Yeah, there’s ain’t no way I’m working with that spoiled brat-„

„Who are you to call me spoiled, you prick-“

“Did you just call me prick you little-“

“Can you two just stop?”, Giyu mumbles under his breath, all pairs on eyes set on you and the wind hashira who is only inches away from your face by know.

God, how much you hate that guy. Since the first time you saw him beating up a bunch of innocent demon slayer to now where you literally feel his urge to slap you right into your face, you can’t stand him. Out of all skilled demon slayers, why does it have to be him? How did he even achieve the status of a pillar in the first place?

“Stay the hell out of it, Tomioka”, Sanemi barks at the water hashira in an instant.

“Stop acting like a jerk. Don’t you get that nobody will ever like you if you treat them like that!?”

“Not liking me? Look at you, (y/n). You’re a total loser.”

“Take that back right now!”

“That’s enough, stop already”, Gyomei finally speaks out.

Oh, you couldn’t care less about the stone hashira lifting himself off the ground or the thick tension that fills the air. Out of instinct, you yank towards, your fist aiming straight for his face. That little fucker will pay for every single insult, for every time he put you down-

“I said enough, (y/n).”

“Let go of me!”, you cry out when Gyomei catches you mid-air.

“You heard him, (y/n). Enough is enough”, Sanemi jeers at you with a slight grin.

Oh, how much you would have given to get teased by Sanemi Shinazugawa like that one last time. How desperately you wish you could turn back time to see all their faces again. When all of you arrived within the infinity castle, you knew you might not make it out alive, that some of your beloved friends will eventually never find their way out.

“Sanemi!”, you cried into the countless chambers around you, eyes aimlessly searching for the man your eyes locked with just seconds ago.

“(y/n)!”, he shouted from afar.

Where is he? Is he safe? What if you’ll never see him again? You swallowed hard, desperately trying to stop your dumb eyes from watering. What if…you’ll never see Sanemi again?

“Where are you?”

“Don’t you dare to die on me here!”, he yelled on top of his lungs.

Before eventually, he stopped replying.  Before you faced countless demons on your own, all at once.

You would have never imagined that those crazy eyes you hated so much since joining the chosen circle of hashira would be the ones you’ll see last before your lifeless body collapses onto the floor.

“No, you can’t leave me like that. Not you too, (y/n). Get yourself together and fight!”, he hissed through gritted teeth while grabbing your body tightly.

“S…Sanemi?”

What a relief it was to fall asleep in his muscular arms.

And what a surprise it was to wake up with him by your side again.

“I’m so tired”, you mumbled before being able to even think straight.

Everything hurt. From your little toe to your shoulder, over your torso and your crushed leg. It feels like you just returned from a trip to hell.

“You’re awake.”

Don’t so familiar voice that suddenly sounds so soft and broken, that maniac orbs that suddenly turned…hurt. Is Sanemi Shinazugawa crying?

“Are you okay?”, you croaked.

What about the others? Are they safe? Did you make it? What about Muzan, the upper moons, Tanjiro and his sister? Your brain threatens to give him, a breathtaking wave of nausea close to hit you with full force.

“Dumbass, look at yourself first. Are you okay?”

Gently, he caressed your cheek with his bruised knuckles, forcing your heart to skip a beat. Is this really the Sanemi Shinazugawa you know and hate?

Hate?

You furrow your eyebrows. Did you really hate him those past few weeks when you sat together after training past after midnight? Did you really hate him when fighting against those demons, when he was all you were able to think about? When on earth did you start un-hating him?

“I’m fine…But…the others?”

Just the way he shakes his head in defeat is enough for you to know. You swallow hard. All the people you loved…Mitsuri who always braided your hair, Shinobu always stitched you up after another fight with Sanemi, Giyu who always scolded you for acting out like that. Tanjiro, Nezuko, Gyomei, Obanai, Muichiro…Are all of them gone?

Suddenly you fail to breathe. Your friends, your found-family.

Everything’s gone.

“Hey, don’t panic.”

Did they suffer? How many people were forced to die in that senseless war?

“Look at me, (y/n).”

You can’t catch your breath, shaky hands clinging onto Sanemi’s sleeve for what feels like dear life.

“(y/n).”

He grabs your face with both of his hands. And all of the sudden, everything around you starts to get calm.

“It will be alright. Not today, not even tomorrow or next week. But we’ll get through this together.”

“I hate you”, you breathe out while getting lost in the new-found peace his eyes radiate.

“I hate you too”, he mumbles.

Why do his lips suddenly look so inviting, roaming closer and closer? Why do you enjoy the way he holds your face in place with his rough hands, how he stares at you in distress?

But there’s something apart from distress, a new-found feeling you’ve never seen before.

“More than anything else”, you add.

“Absolutely, yes.”

And then his lips crash into yours. Longingly, almost desperate Sanemi Shinazugawa kisses you with every fiber of his being, allows his body to finally give him. He never allowed himself a single positive thought when it came to you, always hated every minor thing you did. Until the infinity castle made him realize what he truly feels for you, that he needs to catch a taste of your forward lips before it is too late.

That was exactly one year ago.

“What’s on your mind again?”, Sanemi mumbles into your hair while staring into the sunset and holding you tight.

“Oh, I was just thinking about how much you hated me back then”, you chuckle.

What a relief it is. Being able to watch the sunset without fearing the night. Being able so live another day with your husband by your side.

Your husband, Sanemi Shinazugawa.

“I wonder what they would think, seeing us like that”, Sanemi comments dryly.

“Oh, they wouldn’t believe us.”

“Absolutely not, nah.”

“But I bet they’d be proud, right? I’m sure it’s fine that we’re doing okay…”

“You’re talking nonsense again, (y/n). Why would they ever be mad at us for living our lives?”

“Because they couldn’t.”

You swallow the lump that forms itself deep in your throat down. Not a single day went by without you thinking about your comrades. How they always had to keep the two of you separated, how much fun you’ve had despite the circumstances.

But now, there’s only you and Sanemi left. And Tanjiro Kamado.

“I think we should pay the Kamado family a visit”, you add before thinking about it any further.

To this day, Sanemi refused to meet up with Tanjiro and his sister. Maybe because he still hates the boy with the scar, maybe because seeing Tanjiro means being confronted with his past all over again. Over and over, you begged him to go, to make sure both of them are doing alright.

“Didn’t I say no 100 times already?”, Sanemi grumbles behind you.

“Well, you said you hate me at least 100 times as well and still, I’m here”, you bite back.

Sanemi shifts his weight, his muscles tense behind your back. You know too well that this isn’t easy for him, that seeing Tanjiro means getting confronted with a part of his past he’s so eager to forget. But the Kamado family never gave up their hope, always keeps their doors open if Sanemi does decide on meeting them someday.

“That’s not the same, idiot.”

“Sanemi.”

You turn around and cup his face gently with both hands.

“Maybe you should pay him a visit. We didn’t see him in a long time.”

“Why would I care though? It’s not like I liked that kid at one point”, he barks back at you.

You let out your breath. Despite the fact that infinity castle made both of you softer, Sanemi still didn’t lose his stubbornness and attitude. Well, so did you.

“You wanna act like an asshole? Go ahead, then. I’ll leave tomorrow morning, with or without you.”

Without another word, you get up and make your way back into the house. How frustrating living with him can be. But still…The past is scarry, maybe even too much too bear. After today, you won’t speak up about visiting the Kamado family again.

-the next day-

“Nezuko!”

She doesn’t hear you. The girl with the wavy black hair tied into a knot, her tender eyes focused on the garden in front of her feet. How breathtakingly gorgeous she is, a true beauty just like back then.

“Nezuko!”, you cry out again, waving at her like an idiot.

Back then, she saved your life by almost sacrificing her own. Even though you weren’t as kind as the other hashiras, the Kamado family always stood by your side and believed in you. Seeing her so unbothered and happy forces a wave of tears up your eyes, makes your vision go foggy.

Thanks to your comrades, all of this is over now.

“(y/n)!”, the girl finally greets you while mindlessly dropping her sickle and dashing towards you.

“(y/n), is it really you? I can’t believe it!”, Nezuko breathes out.

“Yeah, the original”, you giggle.

She still wears the same patterns she did back then. But her eyes, they look so different. Nezuko really is fully human again. You can’t stop a single tear rolling down your eyes. And all of this, only due to the sacrifice of your friends.

“No, don’t you cry, (y/n)! Not when both of us should be happy”, Nezuko croaks out, a thin coat of tears now covering her very own eyes.

“Those are happy tears. I’m so sorry for not visiting you sooner, it’s just…”

Yes, what is it? Did you hesitate because Sanemi wasn’t ready, because he refused over and over to accompany you? No, you yourself needed that time to heal, to get over all the terror and suffering you’ve been through.

“You don’t have to apologize at all. After all, Tanjiro and I needed some time to adjust to this new life as well. Do you mind me asking how Shinazugawa-sama is?”

“Sanemi? He’s doing okay. But he isn’t ready yet…”

“Of course, I get that! But there’s no need to rush, right? After all, we now have plenty of time left”, Nezuko replies with that oh so gentle grin plastered onto her face.

“(y/n), is that you?”

Your heart skips a beat. Oh, you’d recognize that voice from everywhere with its unwavering optimism and tender undertones.

“Long time no see, Kamado Tanjiro.”

In the matter of seconds, you find yourself embraced into a tight hug, surrounded by nothing but the signature ichimatsu pattern that burned itself into your brain.

“Oh my, I’m so sorry for casually hugging you like this, (y/n)-sama!”, he adds in a haste, quickly letting go of you and bowing.

“I’m not a hashira anymore, Tanjiro. And both of us are equal. Well, now that I think of it, I should be the one who bows in front of you”, you contradict jokingly.

“It’s so nice to finally see you again! How are you?”

“I’m doing alright. Sanemi and I, we worked quite hard to renovate his estate after what happened. These past few months, we enjoyed watching the sunsets for the very first time in ages”, you explain briefly.

“I couldn’t believe my ears when I heard that the two of you married. It makes me beyond happy you found your luck, (y/n).”

“Don’t you dare making my wife cry, brat.”

Your eyes widen, heartbeat instantly picking up. You’d recognize that voice out of a thousand people. When you turn around, you get greeted by the annoyed expression of none other than your husband.

“Sanemi”, you breathe out.

Did he follow you? When did he decide on meeting the Kamado’s? You’ve been bugging him for ages, almost begging him to pay Tanjiro and Nezuko a visit.

And now he stands there, arms casually crossed in front of his chest.

“Shinazugawa-sama, what a honor-“

“Spare me with that bullshit”, Sanemi interrupts the boy immediately.

“Just tell me how you’re doing.”

Oh. Your eyes threaten to overfill with joy all over again, Sanemi’s arm now wrapped around your waist tightly. Just 2 years ago, you didn’t even think about the possibility to even like Sanemi, to look after the Kamado’s.

But this is your life now. Your oh so sweet life.

“You might have been right. Maybe this isn’t so bad after all”, Sanemi whispers into your ear.

“So, does that mean you finally don’t hate me anymore.”

“That’s a bit out of line, Kamado. You’re still a brat, after all.”

Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix  @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld

@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake

@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345

@komelrebi-san @kentocalls (your fic will be next) @barbuse @sunshine7queen @lavenderdrxp

@yaninnaacu @hopefulbelievertimemachine

[on-leatheredwings]

Mr. Sandman (18+)

Yandere Jason Todd / AFAB Reader

> romantic  > tw/cw: non-con, somno. reader has a vagina, piv sex, creampie(s). > Jason just can't get enough of you when you're awake; why would that change when you're asleep? > a/n: my first jason solo!!! WE UP! im a sucker for simpering, weak, vulnerable jason sowwyyyy . he needs u spiritually what can i say . > word count: 1.1k

Jason knows he shouldn't be doing this.

But who could blame him? You’re just so gorgeous. And so smart, so funny, so generous and so– so perfect. You are his god. He is your faithful acolyte. And your cunt is his altar of choice.

Jason glances himself in the mirror across your bedroom. He’s a hulking mass of muscle on all fours, hovering above your gently sleeping body. It would be a shock you haven’t woken up yet, if not for his stealth. He padded onto your bed, knowing just where the mattress would give soundlessly under his solid weight. Underneath him, you’re none the wiser. Innocent. Ripe and for the taking.

He shouldn't be doing this, he reminds himself, despite his bare erection already weeping precum in anticipation. 

You took him into your embrace, like a savior to a wounded dog. You decided he was loveable, of all things. 

He shouldn't be doing this, he tells himself again, despite his hands starting to wander. Your nipples poke sinfully through his wifebeater, breasts nearly spilling out of it anyway. You’ve dictated it to be your new set of pajamas. It’s much too long for you, falling past the start of your thighs. He peels it up, slowly, carefully. He leaves it to bunch at your collarbone, revealing your naked breasts. He swallows an appreciative groan, leaning forward and suckling on a nipple.

It’ll just be some heavy petting. Just some kissing. Just some marks so people know you’re his – he knows what to say so you won’t mind that too much in the morning. Just– just a few touches.

But then Jason’s hand wanders downwards. And when he cups your cunt with his hand – his throat tightens; he bristles, stiffens; heady desire intoxicates him and fogs his mind – all restraint comes crashing down. 

He was a damn idiot to think he could resist.

“Okay– Just a little. Just a little, I swear,” Jason groans, little more than a whisper, betraying his attempts at being quiet.

Jason, with expert vigilante fluidity, hikes one of your legs over his shoulder. He lowers and shuffles back to an eye-level view of your cunt, waiting prettily just for him.

He draws circles around your clit with his fingers, using his abundant precum as lube. A man possessed, he could watch all day at how easily and nicely you let his fingers in.

Fuck, you were made just for him, he bets. It’s not only his cock your pussy remembers; your body accommodates, obeys, and wettens in response to every part of his own. He’s barely even trying, pumping his digits back and forth. You’re basically drawing him in. 

Your mouth drops open, a soft whine falling out, and he freezes. His fingers are still stuffed in your puffy cunt. After a few seconds, you continue dozing off, although your brows pinch together with pleasure.

If you can wake up at any second, he’ll be damned if he doesn’t at least go the full mile. He slips his fingers out. Another whine from you. I know, I know, baby, he thinks. You’ll be full again soon enough. Jason slides forward and makes you both fit together puzzle pieces, cock against your folds. “Just the tip, I promise,” Jason says again. And so he continues. 

He’s in. He lets out a relieved sigh, nearly moaning. He’s in.

… But it’s not enough.

Before Jason knows it, he’s pushing forward, entering you fully. And every inch is well-earned – your tightness has him choked, panting and gasping. Yeah, he reassures himself. He fucking belongs here.

It takes him no time at all to start fucking his precum into your cunt. A near-frothy ring of cream grows at the fat base of his cock, a product of his speed and fervor. If he had the mind to, he’d be embarrassed at his desperation. But then he grinds your clit down against the root of his cock, frotting against your walls, and he could not be at all fucked to care.

Jason could start laughing, fucking you with wild abandon. As soon as he climbed on this bed, this was out of his hands. How did he ever think he’d be able to stop? He can’t even try to quiet down anymore. There’s the sound of skin colliding bouncing through the room, your mattress creaking from the intensity of him pounding you, and of course, his own heavy breathing. Fuck, fuck. Despite the noise, he can’t help it – he needs this.

Finally, the hot coil in him snaps. He shudders violently, veins visible in his arms and temple, mouth falling open into a moan. Face-to-face with you at this point, his breaths tickle against your cheek.

On his third orgasm, he’s finally spent. He marvels at the mess he’s made – the inside of your thighs is slick with his own makings, pearly white smeared across the canvas that his your skin. Your abused cunt is swollen and so, so pretty. His cock is still firing ropes into your body. 

Jason can't bear to withdraw himself, mind drunk with pleasure. Suddenly drowsy, Jason has to stop himself from collapsing on top of you. He gently lowers himself to lie down facing you. Both of you are on your sides, his cock still buried in your warmth.

You start to wake up, blinking away the blearly tendrils of sleep. You glance black hair and a shock of white. Mm. Jason, your sleepy mind thinks. Good. Great, even. The allure of continuing your slumber calls, as he rocks you back and forth, the motion almost sedative. Hips meeting yours, cock rutting into you…

Wait–

Your eyes fully snap open, body on high alert. You gasp.

“Jay–?” you squeak. Now fully awake, you register the full presence of his length in you and the pleasurable throb in between your thighs. And the utter stickiness of your thighs. 

Startled, Jason wakes up with a jerk. He doesn’t normally fall into such deep sleep. He feels panic rise. He was supposed to wake up after just a few minutes…!

“Fuck–” he begins, fumbling to roll away and unsheathe himself. But you curl a fist around the collar of his shirt, like pulling on a leash. You two stare at one another, both bodies still sweaty and warm. Your cunt is still full with him, his seed. Leaking. 

Fear thunders through Jason at getting caught. 

But then you pout. So cute, his dumb animal brain instinctively thinks. Even though you’d argue to him that you’re nothing of the sort. You smile mischievously, sinking onto his cock an inch.

“Now, Jay,” you say, tutting. “You should’ve woken me up first.”

[frantic-fiction]

Unexpected

Pic: @cheekylittlepupp (I love her posts)

Astarion x gn!Tav, Astarion x gn!reader

Summary: A night of seduction takes an unexpected turn, leaving Astarion to realize just how deep his feelings for Tav have developed.

Warnings: Astarion not knowing how to handle affection. Mild disassociation. Astarion has a lot of confusing feels.

Word count: 2.8k

Masterlist

Astarion sprawls across the blanket, his spine cracking against the stretch. A reflexive groan escapes him. His arms are crossed to cushion his head while the sun's heat seeps into his bones. The last time he felt this warm and relaxed was when his heart still beat in his chest. He feels like he could trance, in just a moment.

It still baffles him, the luck of it all. Being ripped right out of that bastard's chains, only to be dropped in the middle of nowhere with a tadpole in his head and a bunch of problematic weirdos for company. And Tav. Tav, who Astarion has yet to fully figure out. 

At first, he thought the naive little hero thing was all an act, but no, that was just Tav. And a sweet, naive person was exactly who he needed to keep his place in this group. He had already seduced them; now, he just needed to keep them on his side.

Astarion is pulled from his thoughts. He's not sure why until his ears twitch at the sound of boots scuffing on dirt. Pushing up on his elbows, Astarion looks up towards the tree line. 

Tav, slightly obscured by clouds of disturbed dust, is trudging up the west trail. Their body seems to have deflated, shoulders slumped, both hands gripping their pack straps as if the moment they let go, the heavy bag would pull them to the ground.

Tav looks exhausted, not the kind brought on by a poor night's rest or a long day's travel. But one that builds up slowly, from continuous tasks and responsibilities, with constant eyes looking for guidance in a time none could imagine experiencing. The suffocating feeling that claws its way under the skin, burying deep behind fake smiles and pleasantries.

Sitting up further, he watches Tav start to make their rounds. First to Gale, they pull a necklace out of their pocket before placing it in his palm. The wizard makes what's sure to be a subpar joke, and Tav's delicate laugh rings out—Astarion glares in annoyance. 

Tav says goodbye and moves over to Wyll. They unsheaths a polished rapier- a replacement for the one Wyll managed to break when they fought against a pack of minotaurs. It's ridiculous if you ask Astarion, but Tav tells him to keep his comments to himself and, as they say, "don't bite the hand that feeds." 

After a quick hello to Lae'zel, Tav's eyes find Astarion. They perk up a bit, a timid smile stretching their plump lips. Astarion is now fully on his feet, returning their smile with a smirk of his own.

"Hello, my sweet," Astarion says, moving behind Tav. "Let me," he pulls the straps off Tav's shoulders, letting the heavy pack fall into his arms. "Hells, my dear, you carried this all the way from town."

"It's not that heavy," they mumble, reaching for the bag.

Astarion swiftly pulls the pack from Tav's reach. "What did you get?" He quirks his brow and unlatches the pack to begin sifting through its contents.

Tav huffs something under their breath and crosses their arms, but makes no further attempt to reach for the bag. 

The pack is brimming with food, potions, arrows, daggers, and scrolls, all basic supplies. "Boring," Astarion says, tossing the bag to the side carelessly.

"If anything broke, it's coming from your gold pouch."

"Yes, yes, of course," Astarion says, waving his hand casually before turning up the charm. They look up at him with lidded eyes and a glaze over look . "Are you alright?" Astarion asks, his voice laced with played-up concern.

"Hmm... O-Oh, yeah, yes, I'm fine." Their eyes dart away, seeming to look for the next lie. "You know me; I'm always doing good."

Astarion glances around the camp, looking at the others. None seemed to be paying attention to the two of them. He steps forward and brushes a strand of hair behind Tav's ear, trailing his fingers down their neck.

"I've begun to know you very well, my sweet, and I can tell you are exhausted."

"I'll be fine," Tav catches his hand and starts to play with his fingers.

Astarion freezes, brow furrowing in confusion. They're just pulling slightly at his hand. An odd feeling settles in Astarion's stomach.

Why are they doing that?

They let go a moment later, and Astarion pulls his hand back quickly.

"I've got to talk with Shadowheart; if you'd like, you can feed on me tonight." Tav hesitates before quickly pecking his cheek and skipping off.

Astarion is left staring after them with this dreadful fluttering in his stomach. A hand absentmindedly touches his cheek. His mouth feels dry, and he swallows hard. 

Astarion has an idea brewing that would please Tav, and maybe he would even get another of those soft kisses.

Why would he care for another damn kiss? Gods, what is happening to him? Is it the damn tadpole?

It's nightfall when Astarion finds Tav again. They are sat on the ground, suffocated between a growing owlbear cub and a slobbery dog. Scratch's tail wags and the subtle movement of Tav's hands petting each animal's fur are the only movements. Tav's eyes are closed, and their face is relaxed.

"Should I grab the cleric?"

"No, I think the rogue will do just fine." 

Tav's eyes open, their face breaking into a bright smile. They sit up, displacing the animals who no longer consider Tav a suitable bed. 

"Time for dinner?" Tav wiggles their fingers at them, beckoning for assistance.

Astarion scoffs but grabs their wrists and pulls Tav to their feet. Tav stumbles forward a step and presses into him. He gets the urge to kiss them for no reason other than he wants to and almost leans down to do just that when Tav speaks.

"So… my tent or yours?"

Astarion blinks out of his thoughts. "Right, I think my tent tonight,” he offers his arm, which Tav takes. "This way, my dear."

Tav allows Astarion to escort them to his tent, where upon entrance, on a small table sits a platter containing a loaf of bread and a chunk of cheese he nipped from Gale's pack, alongside a fresh vine of grapes he may or may not have gone all the way to the bloody town for. Tav mentioned it was their favorite fruit, and hearing the shocked gasp made that obnoxious trip at least worth it.

"What's all this for?"

"I was feeling a bit peckish tonight, so I decided to have a nice meal. I merely wanted to rub it in your face."

Tav rolls their eyes and punches him in the arm dropping to the ground. They pluck a grape from the vine, pop it in their mouth, and pierce the skin with their teeth. 

"Where did you even get all this?"

"If I told you the lengths I went," Astarion says, pulling out a bottle of wine and popping the cork. "I would have to kill you, Darling. I've got an image to keep."  He pours out a glass and passes it over.

Tav chuckles and thanks him and takes a sip. Astarion sits on a cushion beside Tav with his own glass, watching them slice the bread. It quiets long enough for Tav to finish the slice of bread with some cheese along with a couple of grapes. 

Astarion couldn't help but think how cute they looked, cheeks puffing slightly from too big of a bite. They swallow it with a mouth full of wine, a droplet falling down their chin. He wants to catch it with his thumb.

"But seriously, isn't this time reserved for your midnight snack?"

"Typically, but you looked so tired, my dear." Astarion places his goblet to the side and scoots closer to Tav. "I wanted to help you relax, help you sleep. You are always doing so much for everyone."

He plucks a grape and leans in, guiding it to their wine-stained lips. Lowering his voice, he whispers deep and low, "Let me help you."

Tav instinctually opens their mouth, letting the fruit fall in between their lips; their tongue catches Astarion's thumb briefly before his hand retreats. He cups their jaw, and traces over Tav's cheekbone.

 Every time he gets a chance to look, really look at Tav. Astarion can't help being captivated by their beauty. The shine of their hair, the softness of their face alway so warm and inviting, their nose scrunching up anytime he teases. So gorgeous. 

Tav's doe eyes flick down from his eyes to his mouth. Their tongue peaks out gently swiping across their bottom lip. 

Who kisses who is irrelevant. Only the feeling of their smooth lips gliding against his, the shaky exhale of breath, Tav's warm hands curling around his neck, fingers carding into his hair. 

Tav pulls away to breathe, running their nose against his. Astarion can't remember the last time a kiss left him wanting more. And having Tav rush back into the kiss as desperate as he feels sent unfamiliar shivers down his spine.

Astarion's hand presses against the small of their back, pulling Tav close to his chest. The other falls on their thigh, gripping gently like a lifeline. Astarion sighs low in his chest and runs his tongue against the seam of Tav's lips. They tentatively part, and Astarion chases the taste of grapes and bread.

Hells, he wishes to stay in the moment- in the softness of this kiss, the closeness of their bodies. His chest felt light, and the warmth of Tav's body under his hands is something he never wants to stop feeling. It feels as if nothing more needs to happen if either party deems it so.

But that wasn't how this worked. No one ever wanted a simple kiss. Astarion was never the innocent kiss that had you blushing the whole walk home. He was the sinful whisper and dirty looks. The pleasure before the end. Never this.

So Astarion begins the routine he's done a thousand times before.

His mouth leaves Tav's lips, trailing hot, wet kisses down the column of their throat. Tav releases the softest whimper when he bites at the flesh of their shoulder. Their fingers tighten in his hair. He grunts.

Astarion no longer feels quite present; it is more like he is simply observing the scene as a third party. Just finish the task. 

His agile fingers snake up their waist, pulling their shirt from their pants and caressing the smooth skin underneath. Astarion begins to unbutton their top when Tav grabs his hand.

"Wait." They say out of breath.

Astarion focuses back in, eyes taking in the look of Tav's flushed face and kiss swollen lips. They look flustered, and he's suddenly confused about why they stopped him.

"Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, everything's fine. I was…" They trail off, looking away then back again. "Could… we not do this tonight?"

That wasn't what he thought they’d say and it has Astarion momentarily at a loss for words. What does he do now? Tav's looking at him, and he's still frozen. No one has asked him not to have sex before.

"Yes, of course. Would you like me to pack this food and escort you back to your tent?" He sounds robotic to his ears and cringes. 

"No."

Astarion's brow furrows. Do they want his tent? Okay, he can work with this. Let them have his tent for the night; he'll be fine. And it's a nice thing to do since they don't want sex. He can still win favor. Right?

"That will not be a problem, my dear. I was going to be out late hunting anyway- probably until morning. You're welcome to sleep here. Rest well."

Astarion moves to leave- flee more like when Tav grabs his wrist.

"Wait," Their voice is so tiny.

Astarion turns back to Tav. They won't meet his eyes and are playing with his fingers again. Is this something people do? Or just Tav?

"Would you hold me?" A subtle blush began to bloom across their cheeks.

"I can't sleep; I keep having nightmares. I keep waking up trapped in my body." Tav released his hand to hug themselves. "I just don't want to sleep alone again."

Tav. Fearless, reckless, heroic Tav. Who killed more goblins and helped more people than any hero he could think of. To see them look so small, so vulnerable. And ask him. Him. To hold them, protect them from the monsters that torment their sleep. 

His mind is ricocheting around. Who was this person before him? So kind, so beautiful, so trusting of him, who deserves none of it.

Astarion has been quiet for too long. He knows this when he sees hope drain from Tav's wide eyes. They are looking for a way to leave.

"Okay," Astarion croaks, nodding before clearing his throat and repeating the word more confidently.

Tav beams at him. "Okay."

They stay rooted in place, awkwardly staring at each other. Tav bites their lip, tugging it between their teeth. Astarion feels like he's been plunged into the deep end. Every physical encounter he's partaken in was sexual and one he quickly left feeling used and disgusted.

This was new territory; did Tav want him to initiate? How did he initiate this without sex?

Astarion looks down when he feels a tug at his arm. "Um, would it be okay if we laid down?"

Astarion nods rigidly, his tongue cemented in his mouth. He moves to his bedroll and lays back. Astarion's body felt like a wood plank, he couldn't seem to relax. Tav sees this of course, because they seem to alway notice him. 

Everything Astarion wished to keep buried, all his dirty secrets, he kept behind the facade he perfected over the centuries. Tav seemed to see through everything. Read him in a way no other had.

"Astarion," he looks up, Tav's kneeling beside him, eyes full of concern. "If you're uncomfortable, I can-"

Astarion snaps back to himself. He shakes his head and props himself up on his elbow. A flirtatious smirk automatically stretches his lips.

"Me? Uncomfortable? Pfft, Darling, to have you pressed against me all night," Astarion reaches out to pull Tav's arm hard enough to have them stumble onto his chest with a small yelp. 

His voice drops to a husky whisper. "I don't think there's anything I'd like more."

Astarion chuckles at how reactive Tav always is to him. Their hands are splayed against his chest, face inches from his. 

They open their mouths to speak, but Astarion cuts them off with a kiss long enough to leave Tav chasing him for another.

"Though I will admit, having you so close, it's going to be very difficult to keep my hands to myself."

"I don't want you to keep your hands to yourself. I want you to hold me." Tav speaks plainly as they adjust til they are pressed against his side.

Their head is in the space between his collar and jaw. Astarion takes a deep breath. The smell of pine, rosewater, and something distinctly Tav hits his nose. The scent alone acts like a cool drink of water during a searing summer day, calming his anxiety. 

Tav grips the front of his shirt loosely and tangles their legs with his. Astarion was initially unsure what to do with his hands, hovering them slightly over the contours of Tav's body. But he adjusts quickly enough, and pulls them tighter against his chest, chasing the addictive warmth of their body.

This was strange, unfamiliar, but…nice. Tav's nose brushed against his neck, and the heat of their mumbled words fans over his skin. Astarion hums in question.

"Thank you," Tav repeats, yawning, their words slightly slurs from exhaustion. "You make me feel safe."

Tav was trying to break the record for how many times they could shock Astarion in one day. But before he could come up with a charming retort, their breath had already evened out. Tav fell into the world of dreams, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

Astarion didn't trance that night, just staring up at the roof of his tent, listening to the soft breaths and steady heartbeat, rubbing absentminded patterns to the planes of Tav's back. 

Why couldn't he have found them when he was still so hopeful? Less broken. Because he think he might have been able to make it through just about anything with Tav by his side.

Tav, whose eyes find him first. Who makes sure he's fed and comfortable and okay with the plan even though he could give two shits about the poor fools that need saving. 

Who asks to be held at night when the dreams are too dark to handle alone, and they trust Astarion of all people to keep them safe? Where was Tav when he needed and pleaded for someone to care for and protect him from the cruelty of this realm?

Gods, he thinks he loves Tav. The thought turns his stomach to lead, but he stops and takes a deep breath. That is something he will have to think about tomorrow. 

All Astarion wanted to think about right then was the person in his arms. He kisses the top of Tav's head and closes his eyes. Astarion doesn't believe he's ever felt more at ease.

I really enjoyed writing this, so please let know what you thought. Astarion discovering his feelings for Tav past his survival instinct is a personal favorite type of fic for me, so I want to write one of my own.

Taglist: @heartfully10 @ayselluna @marina-and-the-memes @anixson @canonicalchaoticneutral @toadsbitch @meulinkitten-blog @ambr4armr @lotusandcrystals @venussakura @synapticjive

Want to be added? DM me please!

[beansandsprouts]

Sunshine

Female reader. Sparse use of y/n.

Summary: Growing up, Bucky never thought he'd find his soulmate. Years and years and years of searching. Even Steve had found his. But you were nowhere to be found. Until he was living in the Avengers Tower. Until you happened to join the team.

Warnings: none

Considering making this a series, let me know if you wanna be tagged in the next one. I may consider doing a bit of a rewrite of it all on my other fanfic blog and add in some sweet smut in there. Everything on this blog will be kept mostly PG.

Bucky was irritated. He didn't see why there had to be this big deal about a new team member. And he didn't understand why he had to be there. They hadn't been told much about you. All Tony had said was you were ex-military, and that everyone typically called you Grim. As in Grim Reaper. Bucky had to admit he was curious to know what earned you that nickname.

With a callsign like that, you had to be ruthless. Cold blooded. So he wasn't expecting this cute bubbly thing to practically skip in alongside Tony with a huge grin. Though he could tell that belt buckle you had on was hiding a knife.

He was immediately taken with you. He'd been a heartthrob in his younger years, had no shortage of women throwing themselves at him. Though he hadn't really been with anyone since being freed from Hydra, though he'd seen pretty women. You, however, were completely different.

The warmth of your smile and twinkle in your eyes made his chest warm. He admired the shape of your lips and the way your jaw curved. Even the little glimpse of your collarbone had him tingling with an unfamiliar excitement.

"Alright, everyone this is our new teammate. I'll let you introduce yourself." I gestured for you to step forward.

"Hi, nice to meet you all. Name's y/n but most just call me Grim." You offered a bright smile.

Bucky felt his heart skip a beat when you spoke your name. Hell everytime he heard that name he got his hopes up, and without fail they'd been dashed. There was no way it was you. You were technically a lot younger than him, it'd be ridiculous if you were his soulmate.

Right?

Everyone else immediately greeted you warmly, your sunshiney demeanor immediately brought a feeling of ease to everyone around you. It didn't take long before you and Steve were swapping combat stories. Bucky sat quietly the entire time, taking you in. He was hoping to get a glimpse of your soulmate mark, wondering if it'd be his name written in his messy writing. But your damned long sleeves obscured even the tiniest glimpse of it.

Your laugh was like music to his ears. He felt breathless hearing that beautiful sound and watching the way your face changed. You were gorgeous. Even the way you blinked had him enamored.

He swallowed hard as you giggled and playfully nudged Natasha when she made a joke. You hadn't even directly spoken to him yet and he was already absolutely whipped for you.

After a while, everyone dispersed, and Tony led you to your room. Which coincidentally was right across from Buckys.

He awkwardly stood in his doorway as he watched someone bring two duffels and a box into your room. You didn't have much. He had a feeling you had tactical gear in those duffels and a few sets of fatigues. He had to admit he was a bit surprised considering your bubbly personality. He thought you'd be the type to have a bunch of cutesy clothes to wear when you were off duty. And some pretty things to decorate your room.

Though to be fair you'd basically come straight here from the military. You'd hinted at having enhanced abilities, but Bucky doubted you'd been given the same serum as him or Steve. He had to admit he was excited to see what you were capable of.

You'd dropped the box on your bed and noticed Bucky across the hall.

"Hey! You're Bucky right?"

A bit embarrassed to have been caught watching, he just silently nodded.

"You're also a super soldier, yeah?"

He nodded again and you offered a soft smile.

"Steve's more the talker huh?"

Bucky huffed out a chuckle.

"Definitely." He responded.

It was the first time you'd heard him speak and it sent shivers down your spine and a heat between your legs. He'd caught your eye the moment you entered the common room, and now his room was straight across from his. If you had to describe the situation in one word it'd have to be "fucked." It woukd be heaven and torture to have such a gorgeous man living mere feet away from you.

"Well I look forward to spending more time together. I don't mind silence." You offered a sweet smile. You couldn't help but notice the way his cheeks tinged red at that, which you found incredibly adorable.

This was going to be an interesting experience.

Next Part

[2btheanswertothequestion]

Eddie's porn stash is a pretty conventional one. An 'if you've seen one stash you've seen them all' type. It basically only consists of skin mags, some of them kinky but most of them vanilla. Normal stuff.

The oddest thing in it is a two-year-old calendar. You know those sexy firefighter calendars? Usually a charity thing? A hit with the housewife crowd? Yeah. Except this calendar decided to branch out and include a bunch of sexy men from a bunch of sexy professions.

So, in this thing, joining the sexy firefighter is a sexy doctor, a sexy construction worker, a sexy police officer (whose month Eddie tore out and burned because fuck cops but don't ever fuck cops), a sexy librarian, and so on. They're all really good-looking, but none of them hold a candle to the paramedic.

It's weird. Paramedics aren't normally part of the traditionally sexy professions. It's messy and sometimes tragic, but lacks the high-paying glamour that doctors and nurses enjoy. Eddie's had his fair share of fantasies, and none of them involved fucking a paramedic.

Until two years ago.

The guy in the calendar simply is that hot.

There's not even anything risqué about his picture. None of the pictures go beyond "this dude is chiseled and shirtless", because veering even slightly past the softest softcore territory would scare off the little housewives or something.

(Eddie is actually pretty fucking sure it'd increase the sales, but hey, what does he know.)

The point is, there's nothing that obscene about the pic. Just a guy kneeling in the back of an ambulance, first aid equipment scattered between his powerful thighs, shirt open to reveal his sculpted torso…

Dark hair spanning across his pecs, over his abs, vanishing down his tight tight tight pants. Hips canting upward, bringing attention to the size of his bulge beneath the zipper. Broad shoulders, ripped arms and large hands, veins protruding across the back. A pretty yet masculine face, with a strong jaw and a straight nose, full lips, a smattering of moles going down his biteable neck. Voluminous, golden brown hair swooped away from his twinkling eyes.

He's got this look in them, this slant to his mouth. Like he knows he's the hottest guy in the calendar.

The one month everyone will go crazy for.

Eddie has become intimately familiar with that look. No joke, in two years it's made him crack his marbles more than anyone else has done in his quarter-century lifetime. When all else fails, November-paramedic has his back. It's basically his longest relationship to date, which sounds a lot sadder out loud (and it sounded fucking sad inside his head, too).

You might wonder why any of that is relevant now, as he sits on the curb outside of The Behemoth with blood trickling from his temple, his band giving their statements to one cop while another hauls away the snarling douchebag that clipped him. How does it play a part in this god-awful night out, you ask?

Well.

"Sir?"

Eddie startles, too caught up in the thudding inside his head, made worse by the buzzing crowd, to notice the man approaching him. He looks up, his gaze gliding past uniformed legs, muscular forearms, a curved neck and honeyed eyes appraising Eddie, and oh.

Oh God.

Eddie's breath sticks in his chest and his tongue becomes a cognate to sandpaper, because it's the paramedic.

It's the paramedic. From the calendar.

He's hallucinating. He has to be. He collapsed on the sidewalk, and now he's having one last weird sex dream before his brain finishes seeping out and he fucking dies.

November-paramedic crouches in front of him. Eddie continues to gape like he's getting ready to catch the peanuts no one is tossing at him.

"My name is Steve. I'm with the ambulance," November-paramedic says. "What's your name?"

Eddie makes a noise incomprehensible to most Earth cultures before his brain registers the meaning of the question and stutters out the answer.

"I- Uh- E-Eddie. It's, it's Eddie."

November-paramedic – Steve – smiles kindly. Heat prickles across Eddie's cheeks and neck. It's not the same as the cocky, sexy smile he's got in the calendar, but still. He's smiling. At Eddie!

"Hi, Eddie." He nods toward Eddie's temple. "That's an impressive cut you got there. May I take a look at it?"

"Yeah? Yeah. Um, g-go ahead."

As Steve sets down his bag and rummages through it, Eddie scours his face to confirm that it really is the guy from the calendar. To his chagrin, it is. There's no mistaking it. Those eyes, like liquid gold. That jawline, a weapon in its own right. Those moles, applied so skillfully it must've been by an artist's hand. That hair, coming straight out of a commercial for luxury shampoo. It's lying flatter than in the calendar, either lacking product or having sweated it out, but it's still glorious.

Steve, having finished washing his hands, tugs on a pair of disposable gloves. The plastic snaps against his wrist, sending a shiver through Eddie. It centers between his legs. Shit, if he pops a boner now…

"I'm going to ask you some questions, okay?" Steve says while pressing a square piece of gauze against the cut. "Do you know what day it is?"

"Eh, Thursday?"

"Do you know where you are?"

"The Behemoth."

Steve nods and, with a lopsided smile, asks, "And are you a patron or did you and your head injury just wander onto the scene?"

Eddie laughs. Loud, merry, and verging on too long. It wasn't even that funny. Steve seems pleased his joke was a success, though. Unless his smile is the uncomfortable kind that one wears when faced with the unhinged. Eddie isn't sure how much blood he's lost.

"No, I, like, my band…" he says, stammering like talking isn't what he does best. Jesus Christ, it's just a hot guy! Eddie has made a fool of himself in front of those plenty of times – no need to get flustered about it. He clears his throat. "We had a gig and, after, at the bar, some guys got into a fight. Got ugly, so we tried to leave, but… alas!" He makes a dramatic sweep of his arm, nearly clocking Steve. Steve expertly ducks away without lessening the pressure on the wound. Eddie soldiers on, not daring to pause lest he lose his steam. Hopefully his burning face is enough of an apology. "Fucker wasn't even aiming for me. He missed his intended target and struck me instead."

"Right. Did you lose consciousness after he hit you?"

"Nope."

"Good. Did you drink tonight?"

"Half a beer, at most."

"Do-"

"Eddie!"

Gareth's nasally voice cuts off Steve's question. The next second, he's materialized beside them with a slightly alarmed expression. "Dude, are you…!"

He trails off, eyes growing into dinner plates. There isn't that much blood, is there?

Steve looks Gareth up and down, a crease between his brows. "Is this your friend?"

"My drummer. Gareth."

Eddie half-expects Steve to demand Gareth leaves so he can do his job in peace, but nope. That kind, calm smile is back. He even gives him one of those little upward-nods 'cool guys' like to do.

"What's up, Gareth? I'm Steve; I'm with the ambulance. Just making sure Eddie won't keel over later tonight."

"Uh huh…" Gareth kneels opposite Steve. He's smiling too, but his is shit eating. Eddie frowns in confusion, because what does Gareth have to be happy about? He was freaking out right after Eddie got hit, but now he's staring at Steve like-

Oh.

He's staring at Steve.

No. Noooooooooo! Oh shit! Oh fuck! Oh why, why has he kept his porn stash in a drawer without a lock all these years?! He can't recollect the reason Gareth opened that particular drawer on that particular day – all Eddie remembers is how Gareth, Jeff, and Marv snickered when he explained the inclusion of the calendar.

That was it, though. They moved on. Sure, there has been the occasional roasting after the fact, but it's not like he hasn't also mocked them for their weird shit. But that's not the point. The point is that Gareth is staring at Steve like he recognizes him.

Gareth's attention flicks toward Eddie. Eddie shakes his head as subtly yet pleadingly as he can. Gareth's grin gobbles down another turd. Eddie makes a valiant effort to explode Gareth's eyeballs with his mind.

"Say…" Gareth turns to Steve. "Have we met?"

"I don't think so. Eddie, do you have a headache?"

"Yeah, man," Eddie says, voice trembling. "Hurts like hell."

"I could've sworn I've seen your face before," Gareth says. "Like, I'm 100% sure."

"Are you dizzy or nauseous?" Steve asks, ignoring Gareth.

"Um, a little dizzy but no nausea?"

"Hmm, okay. Blurred vision or uneven numbness?"

"No."

Steve nods, glancing at his watch. Then, to Eddie’s dismay, he looks at Gareth. "I've never been to this bar before."

"Nono, not here. Somewhere else…"

Steve's lips purse and his brows knit into the most adorable thinking-face Eddie has ever seen. His heart skips a beat, then skips two more as Steve's free hand gently cups Eddie's cheek. The skin catches fire where Steve's gloved fingertips touch it.

"Let me have a look at your pupils…" Steve says, guiding Eddie's face and, holy shit, leaning in close for a better look.

Eddie gulps, half his blood rushing up and the other half down; he squeezes his legs together to prevent the little guy from saying 'hello' to everyone present. His eyes rove over Steve's face. His lips are chapped and the skin on his nose is dry. The nose itself is somewhat crooked. Did he get into a fight between the calendar photoshoot and now, or did they make the nose straighter for the photo? Why would anyone think it necessary to edit a face like this one? Even with its imperfections mere inches away, it's still the handsomest Eddie has seen.

Steve hums. It's a perfectly preserved vinyl. It's a metal festival. It's Eddie's new favorite song.

"Same size but pretty dilated… Keep your eyes open, please." He shines a tiny flashlight into Eddie's eyes before nodding, satisfied. "All right, looks good."

He leans back out of Eddie's space, returning Eddie's ability to breathe, and removes the gauze. His smile tells Eddie that the bleeding has stopped. As great as it is that he won't hemorrhage to death, it also means their encounter is approaching its end.

"You might've seen me at the university campus?" Steve says, fiddling with some plasters; it takes Eddie's horny brain five full seconds to deduce he's talking to Gareth again.

"No-" Gareth freezes, mouth hanging open. His smugness has evaporated. "Actually, I might have? You're a student?"

Steve chuckles as he patches the last of Eddie's cut. "No, but my friends are. None of them own a car, so I end up driving them everywhere. Right, Eddie, I think you're good to recover at home. Unless you feel like you should head to the hospital?"

Great question! Does he? On the one hand: riding in the ambulance with Steve, ensuring a few additional minutes of his lustrous eyes and smooth voice.

On the other hand: hospital bills.

"… no."

"Okay. Do you have anyone who can keep an eye on you?"

Eddie shakes his head. "I live alone."

"Then maybe Gareth could hang around for the next 48 hours?"

"Sure can," Gareth says without hesitating. Eddie's heart swells with affection for him, despite his (failed! Hah!) plot to mortify Eddie to death.

Steve is already packing his medical bag.

"I want you to rest and avoid stressful situations," he tells Eddie. "No alcohol, no recreational drugs, no driving, and no working until you feel completely recovered. You may take tylenol, but not aspirin or ibuprofen. And if your symptoms worsen or you develop new ones – seek medical attention. Got it?"

The last part is sterner, reminding Eddie of every male authority figure he's strived to disobey during his teenage years. He has no such desire this time.

"Got it."

Steve raises his eyebrows as if to say 'have you really?', and Eddie has to wonder if it's he who seems contrariant and/or stupid enough to ignore the medic or if this is something Steve does with every patient. If it's the former, he mustn't seem that contrariant, because Steve's features soften into trust. He stands, brushing dust off his knees.

"Great. You boys take care now. Have a nice night."

"Yeah, you too, man," Eddie calls after him weakly as he retreats to the blinking ambulance. "Thanks…"

He keeps his gaze on the broad expanse of Steve's back, soaking in the rippling of his muscles as he walks and, oh would you look at that, his ass is as nice as the rest of him. Eddie's been wondering for two years now…

"Dude!"

Eddie jerks toward Gareth. Did he say that out loud? Did he drool? Is his boner showing? But no, Gareth isn't disgusted or disturbed – he's excited.

Shit.

He'll never hear the end of this.

"Don't!" he hisses.

Gareth just laughs, eyes twinkling.

"That was-"

"Don't!"

"I can't believe it!"

"Gareth-"

"You are so red right now!"

"For Jesus fucking Christ's fucking sake-"

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

Dedicated to @rougenancy for always listening to and encouraging my various thoughts, opinions, and ideas (they are constant).

Part 2

AO3

[chericherrybaby]

I’LL PICK YOU UP ON THE WAY HOME

Summary, Jealous ex-boyfriend, Harry picks you up from a party after a last choice call was made from you.

Warnings, Jealous Harry?

This is so many words and not much dialogue. Enjoy the first of many!!

…

Harry was an ex you hadn’t spoken to in almost two years.

He was someone you had loved very much at the time, he was just a little bit too protective over you at the time, which is not what you had wanted as a 21 year old girl who’s friends loved a party.

You had never ridded his contact of your phone, it felt strange since he had been the first number to go in it after you had gotten it with him. Plus, he had never done anything wrong and you felt slightly bad for ending things the way you did.

You hadn’t been together that long at the time, you had told yourself hundreds of times, trying to rid the guilt you had whenever one of your girlfriends would tell you how miserable he was.

It was terrible that one of your girlfriends was dating his best friend, and you were a main source of topic for their entertainment.

You had thought about calling him as soon as your date had pulled up to the house, you could hear the music booming atleast 4 streets away and the place looked crammed with 17 year olds, a weird place for a 25 year old to take you on a first date.

He had led you inside the house, letting you follow his heels, greeting almost everyone that was in his path.

Your first red flag was a girl coming up to your date, who was unfortunately named Chad, you’d heard it all from your girlfriends already, and him hugging her with his hands a bit too close to somewhere they shouldn’t be.

This had made you pull your phone out, scroll down to the very bottom of your contacts and send a quick message to someone who may not even answer you, you’d been so lucky he hadn’t blocked you already and you were so grateful.

You sent a quick “hey” and hoped the recipient didn’t hate you as much as you hated yourself for texting him.

…

About an hour later, the party felt a bit dull compared to when you had arrived, everyone feeling lulled on the couch from everything they had drank, smoked and consumed in many other ways.

Including your date.

You had never been happier to feel your phone ringing in your back pocket and feel the excitement yet dread when your screen read “Harry Styles”

“Hello” you said sounding a little ashamed, making your way to sit on the front porch away from the booming music and the yelling of party goers who were still feeling their high.

“Hey” he replied sounding a little too groggy for you liking, like he’d woken and immediately called you “Why’d you text me? Thought you wanted nothing to do with me”

You felt your heart pang a little at this, but you could feel the hurt in his voice also “I’m at a party with a bunch of high schoolers. I need an escape”

“Gonna need more than that to get me going Y/N” he’d never sounded so irritated to you, but you also understood. The first time you’d texted him in almost two years was for an excuse to leave a party.

“Please come get me, i’ve basically been ditched and none of the girls know i’m here” You sighed feeling so ashamed you were doing this”

Harry ended the call. You waited, hoping he was still the sweet boy you had met 5 years ago.

…

10 minutes later, Harry’s car pulled up outside of the house. You jumped to your feet, jogged over to the car and placed yourself in his passenger seat

“Thank you so much Harry” you looked at him, your eyes pleading for his to meet yours.

He hummed in acknowledgment.

You sat in silence for 5 minutes while Harry drove in the direction opposite of your apartment, He came to a stop when he came to a quieter road with houses all using dimmed lights. He turned the car off and placed his hands in his lap.

“What are we-”

“Why have you done this to me Y/N? You know i’m still so utterly in love with you. So you text me at 11pm a shitty message saying ‘hey’”

“In my defence you’re the one who called me, you could’ve ignored my message and blocked me, you can’t blame me for your lack of self control”

You heard harry chuckle quietly to himself, that’s when you realised you’d said something that maybe you shouldn’t have.

“What are you even doing at a party full of children, you’re 23 Y/N” Harry finally looked at your face, your red cheeks prominent and wasted makeup.

His heart broke knowing after he dropped you home, you were gone again and there was nothing he could do about it.

“I was supposed to be on a first date, but instead he drove us to a high schoolers party. Basically touched up a girl right infront of my face, then got pissed and probably even high while letting me fend for myself when these are people he knows”

Harry slightly laughs to himself, but tires to cover it up by slapping his hand over his mouth. “You sure know how to pick ‘em”

“Picked you. You’re alright” You remarked back and Harry’s head quickly snapped back up to you and slightly glared at you “Sorry, that was really mean”

“I really fucking hate when you go on dates, y’know. Makes me so cross knowing ‘yer going out with all these shit guys when i’m right infront of you”

It’s like he was on his knees begging, pleading for you to love him. Tearing his heart out of his chest ready to give to you.

“You’ve always been such a jealous prick” You smirked at him and he couldn’t help his lips curling up into a smile.

“Hard not to be, look at you. You’re insane and i had my chance and fucked it with you, Cause i was scared to lose something i wanted forever”

You sighed and reached over to place your hand on top of his, he flinched away slightly. You curled your fingers around his hand and held it tightly.

“I love you” You admitted shamefully “It never went anywhere and i think i may just be slightly ashamed that i ended something so good just for what? To get drunk and dance around at a party full of strangers. When i had you waiting for me with open arms no matter the time i came back”

Harry shifted in his seat and moved towards the centre console of his car, you kicked your shoes off and sat cross legged on his passenger seat. Turning towards him, being able to see his face fully.

“You infuriate me, you know that don’t you” He says moving closer, close enough you could feel his breath of your face.

Swearing you could heart his heart beating out of his chest.

“Can you please” You thought for a second, were you making the right decision? Telling him you wanted him all over again, when you feared you may be slightly high from all the fumes in that house party.

Harry hummed gently “What would you like, Angel? Anything for you. I swear” His eyes flicked down towards your lips but quickly returned to your eyes.

“Kiss me” you practically begged him.

His lips crashed onto yours, his hands finding your jaw and cupping your cheeks while you sat in, what felt like an isolated area.

Kissing a man that you thought was just madly possessive over you, instead he just wanted the world for you, and you were the world to him.

[thatdeadaquarius]

Topic: Genshin impact.

au: Sagau.

idea: So what if you had the powers of every character you played as in every game you played and then get isekaid into genshin impact with imposter au. I imagine it goes smth like

Zhongli: “I will have order!”

reader, Who played Roblox as someone who lagged the game (explanation: I’m pretty sure ping is also how time works in games. If you can control the flow of ping you can control the flow of time in games.): “ZA WARUDO!”

Heyyy!! Thanks for waiting for the reply/response from my slow ass :0

So they did clarify what they meant/expand so imma just copy paste that here!

“k now I remember. So basically imma write it here since it’s easier: Basically you don’t have to (but you can) transform into the character that has those set of powers but if you do those powers are enhanced.”

Sun: Reader (”you”/they/them)

Orbit: Headcanons-ish, Light Imposter AU (as in, NOT Yandere/Dark), mild crossover elements bc Shapeshifter Shenanigans™️

Stars: bro idek

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: mild cussing, genshin typical mild violence, & Trigger Warnings: none known.

Please comment if I missed any. /gen

☆

so fair warning,, ive never seen jojo bizarre, but i appreciate i come off well-read/watched? LMAO

so im just gonna kinda,, guess? like just cycle thru diff. random media, and im hoping both me and you reading this will have a fun time (as this is a little challenge, but i like it so ill give it a shot, dont kno if its a good one but- 😅)

so to set the scene, of how u got to this point, ykno of running like ur life (maybe?) depends on u running around different teyvat countries,

u thought it was weird everyone knew a little too much about you?? (ofc theyve heard u during gaming, they know u the same way we all know Markiplier, get it?)

then a bunch of NPCs/Vision users/Archons?? were REALLY invested in talking to you, which freaked u out even more

and by the time you saw Zhongli, yknow, just the oldest god in game, making a fast-walk towards you, ykno the retired god who didnt move an inch when an old water god attacked Liyue for a test, is now hurrying to you???

ur logically get so fucking scared sm shits abt to go down, u just start running

it isnt until ur reaching for a ledge and some webbing shoots out of ur arm (from a glitchy little spot on ur arm, where it could be coming out of ur skin, but sometimes its a blue and red bracelet)

it latched onto the nearest building, and thats how u find out u can grapple ur way, literally Spiderman style, out of the harbor

and bro, idk if it would be fun, or confusing and stressful, or maybe both?? to just find out u can use any video game power from any game youve played before as you go running from countries bc for some freaky reason they know too much abt you/are pursuing you-

dUDE- they had small statues of you in like every little section of their cities

u head to Mondstadt and as Venti comes screaming and flying at you (in excitement, but ur freaked), u go to hold a hand up and suddenly ur holding a heavy stone tablet that unleashes some holographic yellow chains that freeze him in place-?? why is this familiar-

oh my god u have the sheikah slate from Breath of the Wild,

and as ur booking it out of there, u manage to get ahold of a sword, and u know exactly how to use it to knock back favonius knights trying to stop you (they are concerned for their god who is just unleashing random powers on ppl, pls let Grandmaster Jean just talk to you Your Majesty-!!)

by the time you teleport ur way to Inazuma, (bc u still have this worlds access to ur player/traveler’s powers), ur trying to find a nice place to stay for a little bit

at least in that sweet spot of the Raiden not noticing/finding you, while things cool down on the main continent, before moving on,

and u get some tools to help fashion just a little shelter, bc u dont have any money/mora rn, and ur able to literally build a house???

a mailbox pops up and thanks you for renting with Tom Nook???? As in Animal Crossing-

and rlly if the BOTW/slate thing didnt clue u into video game powers, then this definitely would tbh lmao

right as u see Yae Miko circling ur house, with an armful of books? ..is she planning to thru them at you??, u get the hell out of dodge before her favorite god can follow along

(she knows ur prefrences in books and got authors/trends to start so youd have plenty to read, and she was making sure it was ur house before politely dropping them off! how was she to know thatd spook their favorite God, Ei?!)

u get to Sumeru and think ur safe, hiding in an abandoned forest watcher outpost (1 person treehouse rlly) when Nahida shows up in ur dreams,

and u just,

walk out of the dream, into reality, and possess a nearby ruin guard so u can sleep in peace, bc she cant access a robot,

that one baffled u as you re-possessed ur own body before realizing-

Five Nights at Freddy’s. 💀

U cant do that forever, so u try Fontaine, hoping Neuvillette/Furina wont rlly give af abt you, plus theyre the latest region, so maybe they have the least exposure to whatever the other archons didnt like abt you??

u get there and are immediately summoned to court, and right as the mekas show up to escort you, jfc they have a mecha army

(meanwhile, theyre thinking, yknow. high profile guest/our god of gods. ofc we need state of the art mekas to escort them, its only polite-)

meanwhile ur cape has now become wings, and a mask covers ur face as you glide and fly ur way over the city in an attempt to get to where u assume Snezhnaya is

it doesnt occur to you the game until ur running out of stamnia and catch ur reflection in the waters of fontaine, Sky: Children of the Light

u hope the Tsaritsa’s dislike for other gods/Celestia doesnt extend to ur otherworldly presence so ur just hoping for the best atp tbh

tbh youd forget what all powers you have, and the absolute chaos ur causing urself as u try to desperately rememeber what games youve played thru ur entire life is NOT helping to reduce confusion when u randomly wake up with elf ears (legend of zelda/botw) or get dragged into another ruin machine when u fall asleep/faint/do smth u guess mimics death lmao- (fnaf) 💀

…

(meanwhile the Tsaritsa does get wind ur coming this way, and just, makes the people have a parade/festival to celebrate you coming,

she did also have to get Pierro/Captaino to physically restrain some of them from going ahead to meet/escort you to the palace, she’d heard how the others scared u off, and was, ironically, hoping the warm welcome would clear things up)

☆

well that was, something. 😃🫠

sorry lil car, that was such a fun idea idk if i did it justice!! i thought itd be too op to include every media youve consumed ever, so i kept it to video games, (which, could u cheat the system if youve played smash bros??)

i hope it was at least a decent read, and sorry im half asleep so i was not v funny this time around, but, again, hope u got smth out of it 😭

</3

on another note, im having my wisdom teeth surgery this friday, send whatever u got my way, prayers, blessings, good vibes, ill take anything im nervous 🙃

have a good week guys!

Safe Travels Lil Car,

💀♒

If you wanna join a taglist, DM me what for! "Pspspsss, please tag me for [All SAGAU posts, Only SAGAU Language AUs, diff fandom, etc.]!"

(If you ever wanna drop, just DM me! "No more taglists/[specifically this AU/fandom] please!")

♡the beloveds♡

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If ur tag doesnt work, pls check ur settings to see if ur a "searchable blog"!! Its not the same as the Ai selling data thing.

[brighteuphony]

Got a bunch of Sasuke-centric asks, so here we are!

Sakura has some complicated feelings about Sasuke.

In my AU, Sakura was born to civilian parents who didn't really want her to become shinobi, even though that had been her dream for as long as she could remember- and it was no secret in the Haruno household that they were hoping she'd drop out, or at the very most, be career genin.

So Sakura never really had anyone to believe in her and had to go into the academy (late!) as a civilian-born, meaning she was automatically behind in development (and status) compared to the clan kids. (I headcanon that until the Academy, Sakura didn't ever spar with anyone, versus clan kids who had probably learned how to wield kunai before they knew how to walk).

So Sakura worked hard and did her absolute best to get the barest minimum that clan kids were afforded by default. Unfortunately, her best, without the resources/opportunities, just wasn't good enough. And Sakura knew it. Academically, she was brilliant, but that's not enough to be a good shinobi. And somewhere deep down, Sakura (at the very least Inner Sakura) knew it.

It's why I headcanon that she developed such a violent temper. People who are secure in themselves don't have such explosive, uncontrolled outbursts- it's why she picked on people like Naruto, who was probably the only person below her in the pecking order (maybe Tenten? But they're equals I guess). It's why she's so quick to anger and usually has those responses OUT of combat- it's because that's the only place her violence is actually effective.

It's also why she's such a teacher's pet- she needs validation from others to try and fill the gaping void.

So when Sasuke appeared on the radar, and everyone wanted him, so did Sakura. Because if she got him, she would do something that no one else- clan-privileged and better- could do. In fact, she staked most of her identity (her hair, her diet, her clothing) on it.

None of this was conscious. She really did have a crush on Sasuke, but the seed of it was born from a very misguided desire to prove herself on an even playing field.

After all, she didn't have a clan upbringing/resources to teach her how to find self-worth and actualization through her skills (she went home, and her civilian parents praised her for things that absolutely didn't matter in shinobi reality, amazement that she could throw a kunai! how good her grades were! and how cool it was that she could jump high!)

(and Kakashi absolutely didn't help, lol), so she defaulted to what she knew- which was being a regular girl with a regular crush.

Now, as an ~adult, she's come to the painful realization that her love for Sasuke was just a goalpost. Ironically, she set her sights on someone who would inadvertently feed into all of those insecurities, and because Sakura didn't love/believe in herself, she accepted Sasuke's abuse.

She also understands that she ran into the Chidori/Rasengan deathmatch of her own stupidity, but she just can't forgive Sasuke for leaving. For never owning up. 'Cause that's just coward behavior..

Basically, Sasuke's cruelty was just a reflection of her own self-loathing, and unfortunately, Sakura just wallowed in denial and ended up paying a hefty-ass price.

So if she ever sees Sasuke again? Honestly, she doesn't know whether she wants justice or revenge. It's complicated.

Whew- that was a text dump....

Once again, thank you so much to everyone for all the interest and asks! I'm so happy we can all share Naruto rotbrain together.

[wonysugar]

if you insist | jang wonyoung

synopsis: jang wonyoung, the biggest fuckgirl on campus, asks you, y/n l/n, an honors student, to study together after classes

pairing: scum!wonyoung x goodgirl!femreader

genres: college au, smut with plot lowkey and tbh that’s it help

tags: g!p wonyoung, college au, wonyoung is a fuckgirl, reader doesn’t know wonyoung has a dick, facefucking, cowgirl, wonyoung doesn’t care how reader feels in the beginning, wony is insufferable in this (sorry it must be said), some texting, reader and wony are both vers switches

warnings: none? just be mindful that wy kinda sucks at first but then we grow to enjoy her me thinks! (and she also has a dick so that’s that)

word count: 3.3k

a/n: i wasn’t originally gonna make her have a g!p but inspiration struck me and i just had to. also, sorry for taking so long with this!! i truly hope you enjoy it<3

“so, any questions?”

that sentence alone wakes basically most of the class up from their deep sleep, this is one of - if not the - most boring class in your program. every session of his is a literal snoozefest, you hadn’t slept well last night so this would’ve been your chance.

but you still managed to stay awake, you needed to ace this next test, keeping a streak of good grades is your main source of dopamine, so failing it was out of the question. well, it’s not like you failed any of them, anyway.

the class comes to an end and the students all pack their stuff to leave. as you put your books away, jang… wonyoung walks up to you? ‘what the hell does she want?’ you think to yourself. she leans on the desk and runs a hand through her long straight dark hair, her other hand inside of her gray hoodie’s pocket. you look at her up and down, then finally set your eyes on hers.

“what do you want?” you annoyingly ask her, grabbing your bag and jacket, her being the only thing holding you back from leaving.

“why so uptight, girl?” she grins, looking back at her friends as they laugh at this whole interaction. her friend group was a bunch of ugly frat guys, you weren’t surprised she associated herself with them though, she’s the exact same (just, much hotter). “i was just gonna ask you if you were busy later, baby.” not-so-subtly eyeing your every curve, even slightly tilting her head to catch a better glimpse of your ass, cheekily smiling.

you roll your eyes at the girl, “i don’t want to fuck you, wonyoung. now, if you’ll excuse me-“

then, she leans in, her taller figure towering over you and stopping you from moving forward, your heart skips a beat, despite you not really wanting it to, “who even mentioned sex, y/n? oh you totally picture me naked.” she smirks, peaking glances at your lips.

“get to the point. what do you really want?” you coldly respond, trying to not pay too much attention to her literally staring you down.

she backs up from you, chuckling as she readjusts her already good looking hair. “chill shawtyy, it was a jokee.” you glare, “anyways, i was just wondering if you wanted to study together later, back at your dorm? i barely listened in class, i’d like to actually understand the lecture this time.”

study together? actually understanding the lecture?? since when did this girl ever care about studies?

“oh, so now you’re trying to get good grades, jang wonyoung?” you say with a scoff, earning a playful smile from her in response.

“i guess that seeing you work so hard motivates me, l/n y/n.”

i mean, what could go wrong? if she’s really trying to improve her grades, then who were you to stop that? that would just be wrong of you. plus, it doesn’t look like she’s lying, either. you notice the hopeful look in her eyes, is she waiting for you to accept? you chuckled,

“i’ll think about it.” you say as you walk past her. then, making you jump, she slaps your ass before putting her hood on and jogging over to her friends, earning a high five from one of them as they all laugh. she looks over to you and winks, “see you later, mama.”

you can’t lie, that pet name sent a chill down your spine and you unfortunately couldn’t tell if it was a good one or not. could it even be considered a pet name? anywho, you walk to your next class, excited to see what the rest of the day brings you. and you kinda wish it involved wonyoung, because despite denying it, you did find her very attractive.

you’ll just have to wait and see.

-

after getting wonyoung’s number from your very ‘popular on campus’ friend, huh yunjin, you’re hesitant to text her. i mean, it’s not like your life right now is all that interesting to begin with, so maybe flirting with a fuckgirl is gonna help you kill your boredom.

smiling to yourself, satisfied with your decision, you grab your phone and type a quick message as you make your way to the exit. after saving her contact, you’re about to set your phone back in your pocket, and you get a notification.

she already responded? you open your phone and type out your next responses as you see her messages.

what?

and she just leaves you on delivered after that? what the fuck is wrong with her.. and what the fuck is wrong with you, why are you getting butterflies?? this is anything BUT cute. the typos? the winky face?? god you can literally visualize her smirk just from reading her messages. despite all of that, you giggle to yourself, but then quickly mentally beat yourself up for it. she’s just joking, is what you thought. you type out your dorm number and put your phone back in your pocket.

you get in your car then drive to your shared apartment. upon arriving, you immediately start rearranging the place. i mean, it’s not like she would care about your dorm looking pretty anyway, since hers probably doesn’t look any better. you’re doing this for your own self, you told yourself. thank god your roommate wasn’t home that day, you’d have a lot of explaining to do.

hours quickly went by as you cleaned up everything, you turn on your phone, reading the clock, 5:54 pm.

she’ll be here soon. you mentally prepare yourself, putting on different, more comfy-looking clothes, then proceed to sit on your couch. bouncing your leg up and down as you await the ringing of your doorbell, looking at the progressing time on your hanging clock. ‘why am i freaking out over this?’, you think to yourself. it’s not like you’re meeting a date, plus she’s probably gonna be late. reassuring yourself, you come to the conclusion that it’s because you haven’t received someone over in so long. of course you’d be exci-

ding dong!

quickly, you rush to your door and open it, finding the taller girl, wonyoung, leaning against the door frame. well, she’s surprisingly here on time. she’s wearing a backwards cap, a black zip up jacket over a white oversized t-shirt and some gray sweatpants.

you weren’t expecting anything grand coming from her, so the look doesn’t faze you.

she smirks at you eyeing her outfit, “did you miss me, bae?”, making you sigh as you roll your eyes, stepping aside to let her in.

“you’re on time, that’s surprising.” you say in a condescending tone. in response, she chuckles, taking off her jordan’s, “how could i keep you waiting?”

she steps foot into your house, observing everything, but only for a quick moment.

“damn, you keep this place neat though huh?” right as you were about to brag about being a very organized person, unlike her, she quickly cuts you off, “yeah sooo…. where your room at?”

you give her a look of disbelief.

“god, y/n, it’s so that we can study properly. who the fuck studies in the living room?” you process that for a moment and look away from her in slight shame, she probably didn’t even mean it like that. then, as you’re about to apologize,

“that text i sent you is still on your mind, hm? you’re cute.” she says, chuckling as she’s grabbing your waist, gently pushing you against one of your hallway’s walls. you unintentionally gulp, looking into her eyes, then at her lips.

“you want me to, don’t you? you want me to fuck your brains out?” leaning into you, she whispers against your ear. you can feel her hot breath on it, making you shiver. but instead of actually doing anything, she quickly steps away from you, a smirk plastered on her face.

what the fuck.

“no but seriously, where’s your room shawty?” she nonchalantly asks, as if she wasn’t all up on you not even 5 seconds ago?? god, what is with this girl? you just blink at her in complete disbelief and confusion, then lead her to your room.

-

“so that explains why that phrase could be interpreted as a lot of different things. does that make sense?” you ask her, her gaze instantly meeting yours, like she wasn’t looking at the book. was she even listening?

“…what are you looking at.” you coldly add.

“sorry, i wasn’t listening.” she smirks, still looking at you, eyes darting back and forth between your lips and eyes. you scoff, mumbling an annoyed i know as you close the book in question, sitting up. you’ve had enough, she’s driving you insane.

“look, if you’re just here to sit around and do nothing you might as well just leave. i mean, you’re not even paying attention nor are you fucking me right now, so this just seems like a waste of time.” you snap at her. in response, her eyes widen, she definitely wasn’t expecting you to be so blunt. she then grins.

“which one are you waiting for me to do?” she smirks, getting closer to you.

frustrated at yourself for even wanting wonyoung to do you in the first place, an annoyed “fuck you.” was all that could come out of your mouth.

“i mean, if you insist.” she smirks, and places her lips onto yours, forcefully and roughly. quickly, she brushes her tongue along your lips, asking for entrance. you part your lips, allowing her tongue to roam around your mouth. before you could even realize, she was on top of you, her jacket and cap off and her hard on pressing on your stomach.

wait. her.. hard on???

you quickly push her away in surprise. she looked at you, a confused look painted on her face. “what?” she asks you.

“y-you. you have a dick??” you hesitantly ask her back. it’s not that you were against it, quite the opposite, even. but, it just caught you by surprise. since when did she… okay, dumb question.

she scoffs in amusement, “I thought everyone knew that? why do you think straight girls like me so much?”

ugh, nevermind, she was so much hotter when she wasn’t talking. before you could say anything else, though,

“you wanna see it, y/n?”

you reluctantly nod, earning a sly smile from her. quickly, she grabs the waistband of her not-so-boner-proof sweatpants and pulls it down, revealing black calvin klein boxers, her cock poking through.

“take it off.” she basically orders you, making you glare at her. you didn’t like listening to anything wonyoung said, but saying you were horny would be an understatement and you didn’t feel like stalling. you pull the boxers down, making her throbbing dick bounce up at you before sitting up.

dear god, it was big. you couldn’t exactly blame the girls who begged to fuck her anymore, cause if you knew it was that huge before, you would have thought about it a lot more. it’s girthy and veiny while being slightly above average size. it’s weirdly pretty for being used to fuck a bunch of girls, you keep that to yourself, though. you don’t wanna inflate her already huge ego.

before she could say anything arrogant about her size, you put the head in your mouth, slowly circling your tongue around the tip. quickly, you work towards taking the entire length as she groans and throws her head back. suddenly, though, as you’re still sucking, she unexpectedly grabs your head and forces her cock all the way down your throat, earning a gag from you and a moan from her.

“you were going too slow.” she specified, groaning and relentlessly fucking your throat. you would never admit it outloud, but you loved the way she was roughly pulling on your hair, using your mouth to get off. it hurt your ego, your pride, being used by a fuckgirl like this, being used by wonyoung like this. it was degrading, but you still loved it.

you keep letting her handle you like this for a long while, working your tongue on her tip and shaft in the process of her moving your head up and down her cock. hair all on your face, you didn’t even bother tying it, you liked it messy, and she apparently did too. her moans and groans getting higher and shorter, her grip getting tighter, you can only assume that she’s getting closer to finishing.

“fuck baby.. you’re gonna be good and swallow it all, okay?” she said, still using your throat. soon enough, she lets out a long moan and you quickly feel her dick slightly throb, spurting out a warm and thick liquid everywhere in your mouth, it was bitter and salty. you pull away and she looks at you, smirking and expecting you to swallow, which you don’t wanna give her the satisfaction of seeing. you wanted to see how far she would go, what she would do to you.

when she sees that you’re not doing what she asked, “come on, swallow it, you bitch.” she tells you, grabbing your jaw and smiling at you in a mocking way. you probably look like a huge whore to her right now, cum slightly spilling out of your mouth and everything. you glare at wonyoung and swallow all of it like she asked earlier, all of her semen, keeping eye contact. in response to that, she chuckles and grabs your cheek, patting it. “atta girl, you’re hotter when you do what you’re told.”

you roll your eyes as she chuckles and push her back on the bed, eyeing her still very hard dick. in a swift motion, you take off your jeans and panties, hovering over her. then, you sit down on it, slowly taking in all the length.

“you a virgin?” she asks you, holding onto your waist.

“no, why? you think i don’t know how to ride di-“

she grips on your waist and unexpectedly pushes you down onto her cock, making you accidentally let out a loud noise, a mix between a moan and a yelp. it was painful being penetrated so fast, especially by something so big but the sensation was also.. amazing. before you could have the chance to ask her to go slowly, though, she’s already pumping in and out, increasing her speed progressively. okay, now, it hurts.

“can you go slower for - mmh - f-fuck’s sake..”

“no? you take things too fucking slowly, i’m here to cum, not fall asleep.” she grunts, still lifting you up and down her cock, using you like she would a fleshlight. you notice that she gets a lot more annoying during sex, meaner, even. and you hate to admit it, but you’ve also noticed that you seem to enjoy it a lot.

“fuuuck babygirl, you’re so tight.” she mumbles as she presses her thumb onto your exposed clit and plays with it, earning a whimper from you. you feel your walls clench around her as you roughly bounce on her, taking in all of her length.

she’s fucking you so roughly, magically hitting all of the right spots, as if she knows exactly where they are. you couldn’t help but let out the lewdest most shameless noises known to man, it feels too good not to. she definitely didn’t use her mouth for much, but god did she know how to use her cock.

after a while of you bouncing up and down on her, you already feel like you could cum, despite trying your hardest to keep it in, to enjoy it a little longer. a knot was starting to form in your lower stomach, fuck, you were so close, and the fact that she was fucking you so roughly nonstop was making it so hard to keep it contained.

“fuck y/n i’m about to cum again..” she whimpers out needily, once again tightly holding onto your waist. you can’t let her though, not yet. you grab her wrists and pin them above her head, preventing her from touching you. a confused but very aroused expression plastered on her face.

“you can wait a little longer, right?” you ask, but in a tone that basically makes it seem like an order. she glares at you, gaze full of lust yet worry. you could tell she liked the sense of being in control, and that she felt vulnerable in this state. she usually was doing the fucking, not whatever this is. and she was even more frustrated that she liked it.

she moaned, chest heaving up and down from the effort she’s putting in to not climaxing, especially inside of you. you ride her dick, changing the speed to your liking. sometimes moving painfully slow, making her sensitive tip throb at the sensation, other times riding it like there was no tomorrow, she felt it everywhere, your slick running up and down her entire shaft in a fast motion. “c-can i cum yet? you’re being so - fuck - annoying.” she messily asks you, the feeling of you bouncing on her making her stumble over her words.

“maybe i’d let you if you weren’t so goddamn impatient.” you say, moaning out the words.

you were making it so hard for her, she actually thought she would pass out. thankfully for her, though, you quickly get closer to finishing, the noises coming out of your mouth getting louder and higher. then, you feel yourself clench around her length.

seeing you like this, hearing you call out her name as you came all over her cock, it all just made her arousal grow even more. she really couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“y/n please get off i need to cum ineedtocu-“

“cum inside of me.” you interrupted, you were still coming down from your high and you needed her to fill you up. you were on the pill, but she didn’t need to know that yet. you wanted to see how far she would actually go. “w-what? are you fucking crazy what if i get you pre-“ you cut her off by lifting yourself up on her cock, then back down, earning a cute moan from her.

“fill me up, wony. do it.”

upon hearing those words, the nickname, her eyes widen and she bites her bottom lip, throwing her head back as she pants from all the different feelings she felt. she would’ve actually thought about it more if she wasn’t horny out of her mind at the moment.

a mind blanking orgasm hits her, and you can feel the familiar feeling of her warm thick juices filling up your cunt again as you both moan in unison. she rambles out fucks and oh my gods as she takes it all in. watching her become such a mess just because of you.. if you weren’t so tired, that would’ve definitely made you wanna fuck her again. poor baby has probably never even been edged by a girl before.

you watched her as she came down from her high, head still thrown back as she’s panting and heaving. then, she lifts it back up to look at you, smiling shyly. was this the same wonyoung you knew? because if yes, she got significantly cuter.

you laid down on her, resting your head in the crook of her neck. you didn’t even bother pulling her dick out of you, it felt comfortable, and honestly? you were way too lazy to.

“so, are you gonna be telling this to your friends?” you jokingly ask her.

“they’d never let me live it down if they knew you got me begging for you, girl.. so, no.” she confessed, making you giggle.

“also shawty, if you do get pregnant, just be aware that i will not be taking care of the baby.” she adds.

you hum, “you’ll still fuck me whenever you feel like it though, right?”

she chuckles in response, “i mean..

if you insist.”

[sugrhigh]

BOY NEXT DOOR - ( c.s )

part two

summary- you and your roommates live beside a bunch of senior hockey players, one of them being the infamous team captain chris sturniolo. he’s effortlessly flirty and undeniably attractive, but he’s also a pain in your ass. you find that you have to fight between lust and hatred as you finally get to know the boy next door, whether you want to or not.

warnings- swearing, drinking, no smut (yet 😁)

neighbor/hockey!chris x fem!reader

a/n: WELCOME TO MY FIRST REAL SERIES! i have a lot of ideas for this cuz i love this trope dearly so buckle up! more parts will come soon. also working on a tattooartist!reader x matt series (thank you anons) that will also be out eventually. in the mean time if you have smaller/specific reqs you’d like to see, my inbox is open babies! and if u just wanna say hello or ask a question i’m here xoxo

the music booms over the speakers inside the house next door, just like it always does on the weekends (and occasionally on thursdays too). it always drives you up a wall, but tonight it’s particularly bad.

you sit up slightly in bed, absentmindedly wondering who the fuck is on aux. you’re not sure why the thought crosses your mind, but you know it’s not chris, because these picks are horrendous.

it’s already past two in the morning, not to mention it’s the middle of the week. you haven’t been able to get a wink of rest, even with your headphones blaring at full volume. usually they do the trick, but tonight’s party is relentless, demanding to be heard.

wine wednesday, you think to yourself sourly.

neither of your roommates are home; they’re both off with their significant others, somewhere that’s not here, listening to fuckface and his friends get drunk.

you’re usually pretty passive about the noise, because they provide free alcohol for you guys when you show up and typically give you notice that they’re throwing something.

but tonight it’s just too fucking much. you’re tired, and groggy, and very much so still in your silky pajama bottoms and oversized t-shirt, but you don’t give a shit.

you jam your feet into some sneakers and grab a jacket, clutching it close to your chest as you head down the stairs to the main level of your own house.

you pass the dark living room, shadows leering in the corners as you’re guided only by the light coming from the street lamps outside.

you step onto the porch and the cold smacks you in the face, breath fogging up the air. it’s the middle of january in boston, and the expanse of dead grass between your houses crunches under your feet as you tread toward the front door.

the rest of the street is quiet, aside from the party. but they’re all senior hockey players, and it’s the beginning of their last semester, so what else can you expect?

besides maybe some basic human decency every once in a while. in fact, you’re so frustrated that you’re going in without backup, and without a real plan of any kind.

for some reason, once you get up the three steps to their door, you pause to knock. as if anyone would hear you over the music, or care enough to open the door for someone who’s fucking knocking.

so you twist the handle next, and it’s unlocked. of course.

it opens to a hazey front hallway that you recognize, stairs to the left hand side, blocked off by a young-looking guy you assume is probably a freshman on duty.

the front area is full of people, pressed against the walls, chatting over the music. well, more like yelling over it.

you can smell weed, which confuses you slightly. you know none of them smoke, not during the season at least. they usually don’t let anyone do it inside the house, so it must be an allowance for a girl.

you’re already getting strange looks as you step inside, which is fair. your shorts are hidden by the length of your shirt and jacket, so you’re just legs and shoes. you’ve got no makeup on, and you didn’t check your hair before you came.

but you swallow the lump in your throat, because it doesn’t matter right now anyways.

you shift your way through the crowd, gaze skipping over the people as you finally reach the dark living room. multi-colored strobes flash, lighting up the hoards of tipsy college kids dancing on the soaked wooden floor. furniture is pushed aside to make room, though the championship banner from last year still hangs on the wall.

his eyes find you before yours find him.

he stares at you across the tops of people's heads, standing by one of the couches that’s shoved against the wall. one of his roommates, connor, is leaned back on the cushions, watching the two girls they were talking to pass a joint back and forth.

but he’s no longer focused on anyone else, because he’s spotted you across the room, and he thinks this is the most disheveled he’s ever seen you. your angry eyes lock in on him seconds later, and they narrow instantly.

you beeline toward him, right through a group of people that are half-dancing along to the terrible playlist.

he lifts his eyebrows at your attitude, but not in fear. he’s actually a little impressed. his friends are watching you warily, just as confused as everyone else who saw you walk in.

he can’t help but stare at your legs as you finally reach him, admiring how cute you look in your pajamas, pale pink bottoms peeking out underneath your shirt with every step. he briefly wonders if you’re even wearing a bra.

then you open your mouth, and the fantasy is over.

“what time is it, chris?” you snap at him, one hand balled into a fist, the other clutching your phone.

“i don’t know, but i have a feeling you’re going to tell me.” he takes a sip of his drink to try and hide his grin.

it takes a lot of self control to keep yourself from slapping it out of his fucking hand, just because of how smug he looks. you hold up the screen to his face.

two twenty-two in the morning. chris almost laughs.

“the answer is way too fucking late to be having a party on a wednesday.” you reply, bringing the device back down to rest by your thigh.

“why didn’t you come? i missed you.” he pouts.

you glance over at the people on the couch, at the girls who are still making eyes at you as they converse with connor. he’s giving you a weird look too, as if no one could possibly understand why you’re here like this.

“yeah, sure you did,” you turn back to him, “now shut this shit down before i call the cops.”

chris puts his hands up in surrender, though he knows this is an empty threat just as much as you do.

“wow, somebody’s grumpy.”

you roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest self-consciously. “i’m serious. tell the puck bunnies to go home for the night or i’ll do it myself.”

he takes a tiny step closer, just a few inches, and yet it still seems suffocating. he looks too good, clad in a simple black tee and jeans, and he’s studying your face with the fire of a thousand suns.

“you don’t have to be jealous because other girls are here. you know you’re my number one.” chris replies easily.

even though his tone remains light, his expression is serious now. it enrages you more, that he thinks he has so much control over you.

“as if i give a fuck. i just want to sleep, so the choice is yours. police,” you wave the hand that holds your phone slightly, “or call it off.”

chris takes another sip of his drink, tipping it back so he can finish the rest of it in one foul swoop. then he nods his head, like he’s admitting defeat.

“fine. i’ll send everyone home.”

you can feel the relief creeping over you, knowing that you don’t have to actually get law enforcement involved. “thank yo—”

“on one condition.” he interrupts, and you furrow your brows.

“no conditions, chris. we’re not bartering right now.”

“come to the game on friday and we can hang out after for a bit. i’ll even give you a practice jersey to wear.” he offers, and the trademark smirk has reappeared on his face.

lights dance across his features, morphing his expression every few seconds. you just stare, because for once, you’re actually not sure what game he’s playing.

“what, can’t get a date without having to resort to blackmail?” you taunt, and he laughs.

“please, i don’t date. and i’d hardly consider this blackmail. just think of it as getting to know your friendly neighbor on a more personal level.”

there’s a humorous glint in his eye, one that’s daring you to say yes. what’s there to be afraid of? all you have to do is watch hockey, eat some popcorn from the concession stand, and deal with his attitude for an hour afterwards.

you’re still not sure what chris is getting out of this, or why he’s insisting that you need to be there, but at this point you don’t care. all you can think about is salvaging the rest of your sleep.

“alright, fine. now you have five minutes to get everyone out, and i better not hear any more shitty remixes for the rest of the week.” you point an accusatory finger at him and he shrugs, though he’s clearly content that you caved in.

“your wish is my command, princess.”

you turn on your heel to head back outside, retracing your steps from earlier as you slip through the mob. you half expect chris to follow, just because he’s annoying, but he doesn’t.

the overhead lights are coming back on now, and you can hear deep voices shouting, combined with collective groans from the crowd as they all realize they’re being kicked out.

luckily you make it out the front door first, and you jog back up the steps to your own place to get out of the cold.

you’ve only been inside for seconds when your phone buzzes in your hand.

chris

see you friday

sweet dreams ;)

[gurggggleburgle]

I need yall to understand how funny and terrifying it is that Luo Binghe was doing his shizun's paperwork before legally he could drive a car. This child was filing tax forms and making schedules. If he had Excell he'd have been a monster of logistical paperwork power.

Like we have no proof he wasn't grading papers.

But he could have been grading papers.

Like this child for all we know was influencing the curriculum of the entire peak and his shizun would just nod and say yes to 90% of it because he's such a been so cute and perfect of course Binghe knows best. He's the protagonist. And SIR! That is a child. He's like what 5 and smoll????? What does he know about academic curricular and proper cultivation techniques??? You left him and a bunch of other children alone for like half a year and I understand there are other teachers on the peak. Senior Disciples and all that but where are they getting the lesson plan? Who's determining classroom funds? What was the extent of our boy's power????? Could he have convinced Shizun to start a home ec class just to show off how much he's marrying material and prove he's better than everyone else? Did he spitefully give lower grades to people who looked at Shizun too long? What is the extent of his power and how little Shen Qingqiu understands about his own job. Is one guy who teaches the music lessons just getting 40 students while everyone else is in a classroom of 10 just because nobody is paying attention the to the course scheduling or because they can't enforce anything without the peak lord's signature. are the teachers filing out duplicate requests at An Ding Peak and driving Shang Qinghua insane because this is the fourth requests for new textbooks this year. WHY!!!!!!!

And then Shen Yuan took a depression sabbatical for 3 years basically followed by a 5 year nap. He's not qualified. That man is going to sit at his desk. Look at his paperwork. AND UNDERSTAND NONE OF IT. It's been like 10 years since he even pretended to look at his desk with interest and comprehension. Help. Like he can't even train a successor because that would require knowing what the fuck he's doing.

[bennyden]

User hamatoanne's fic plagiarism

Hello, I’m the author of The Android, an AO3 Robot OC x Reader fic that was plagiarized by hamatoanne on Tumblr in her Aemond x Reader story, System Error. You can read my AO3 post for more info about the issue. As you can tell by the timestamps on AO3 and the screenshots of her now-deleted story, mine was posted months before hers. I didn’t want to make this public, but it appears Anne has not learned her lesson and is grasping at straws to keep her readers in the dark. She’s been deleting her stories to hide evidence of her plagiarism. I think you deserve to know who your beloved writer gets her words from.

I don’t know this fandom, but I’ve heard you guys can get pretty crazy. Control yourselves. The only one who needs to take responsibility is Anne. Don’t send hate to her mutuals. Don’t send hate to her followers. Don’t stalk or harass or dox anyone. Read through this post and form your opinion.

First bunch of screenshots: A side-by-side comparison of her story (now deleted) and mine (still up and linked above). I took screenshots in advance in case something like this happened so I’d have proof if I needed it. I decided to compare the first chapter of my fic with the first part of hers. I could do the whole thing, but I’m a busy college student and I think just a quick skim of the pictures below is enough for people to see the extent of her plagiarism. 

I have screenshots of her entire post, but I don’t want to make this too long to scroll through and Tumblr posts cap at 30 pictures. I’m assuming some of you have already read her story multiple times, so you’re familiar with the words. If you haven’t, then I should warn you that the fic that she plagiarized is very not SFW. I’ll let you know where the not SFW content starts so you can skip it. 

On the left is my story. On the right is what Anne posted (and took down).

Not SFW content starts here. 

Not SFW content over.

Finally, I DM’ed her. This was just before I posted to The Android on AO3 about the situation. To summarize, I wrote about how I would go about the situation and how hurt I was about a bigger creator stealing from me. I admit, I was too kind and too much of a pushover. I just wanted things to go quietly. She later replied with this and deleted her fic immediately. 

“I was completely stupid for not giving your credit” Why do they always play dumb? You copy that much and can’t even think to put my name there? You credit the artist but not the person who basically wrote your whole story? The story that gave you over 3k notes, so much more clout than any of your other stories has earned you? Total BS.

“I had every intention of giving credit where it was due…But I forgot” Right. Sure. Of course. If she felt guilty about plagiarizing, she would not be so shameless to accept praise like she did. I have examples of where she happily thanked people for complimenting "her work”, but didn’t want to bring other blogs into this, especially since they were none the wiser to her plagiarism. Ironically enough, someone even gifted her a badge for being a good writer the day she replied to my DM. She tagged that post “#a breath of fresh air on a horrible day”. I wonder why her day was horrible. Whoever gifted her that badge deserves their money back.

My thoughts when approaching her DMs were:

If she wants to keep up the story? Fine, just edit the post to say that it was heavily influenced by my story and leave a link to the original. I don’t mind. The readers will see that, click my story, compare the two, and think, “Hey, that’s not just inspiration! She plagiarized!” and her downfall would start from there without me having to do anything.

If she ignored me and didn’t fulfill that request, i would take matters into my own hands and expose her on her own post. Even more damaging.

In the end, she chose to delete the post entirely, getting rid of the evidence and her clout. I actually didn’t expect this outcome since I thought she’d like the clout too much, but I guess she decided this route would be the least damaging to her reputation. Everything was swept under the rug for now. 

And like a fool, I said thanks and went on with my life. But I decided to keep track of her. Because while I was too cowardly to do anything, I knew there would always be someone in the crowd who would take action. And it seems like people did. 

After reading the supportive comments from readers of my fic, I started to regret how lightly I handled it. I wanted to be mature even though I wanted her entire blog to fall and her reputation taken away. But I didn’t want to be a “bad person”. I wondered if I should keep pursuing the issue. I realized that my overly-people-pleasing behavior might lead her to continue her ways. I decided to speak out because others might’ve had their works taken by her and that my silence wasn’t helping. 

Next is her post, now deleted (I wonder why), about how she’s been so sad and how she’s going to be deleting her old stories and starting over. I’m likely not the only one she’s plagiarized from if she’s deleting other stories. At the time, I only saw supportive replies and reblogs on it, but maybe she deleted it after people started calling her out? Idk.

She’s playing the victim game pretty hard. Acting as a kind underdog even though she’s the big creator who stole from a nobody like me. I know I said on my AO3 update that people shouldn’t send hate to her (and even censored her name after she deleted her story) but I guess I’m a little happy that people sought to call her out on her shit. I wish I was as brave. 

Later, a nice person (we’ll call her Bob because she asked to remain anonymous) DM’ed me directly with a kind message. After seeing this, I decided I should take action and expose all of this since Anne obviously hasn’t learned and wants to keep it all hidden. Bob confirmed that I’m not the only victim of Anne’s plagiarism either.

Bob asked that I not use screenshots of our DM’s so here is a transcription of the important parts:

“Hey! I just found out that one of your fics had been plagiarized by someone in the HOTD community. First of all, I am tremendously sorry that happened…”

(For Bob’s privacy, I won’t explain her relation to Anne. Just know that Anne has refused to message her back).

“I definitely think you should make a blog post. with side by side comparison. I am still completely gobsmacked that she pilfered your entire story word for word and changed a few things. We found evidence that she had plagiarized multiple stories. Not just yours. We found out her mermaid!aemond fic was entirely stolen as well as a few others. She has quietly deleted them and hasn't spoken on them since.”

“We surmised that she takes ‘underrated’ fics from different fandoms and changes the name and that's it. It's almost like she believed that stealing from other fandoms was going to draw less attention than stealing directly from the HOTD fandom.”

So if you noticed that one of your favorite Aemond fics is gone, now you know why.

‘But benny, she still wrote her own sentences and just changed it around to fit aemond!’

Fanfiction is transformative. You know what the source material is and who created it. You know you’re not reading a copied and pasted text with maybe some words and sentences switched around. This wasn’t fanfic. According to Google, plagiarism is defined as, “the practice of taking someone else's work or ideas and passing them off as one's own.” (See what I did there? I credited Google. Is it so hard to give credit where credit is due?) She copied people's work, didn't give credit to the source material, and claimed it as her own. That's plagiarism.

I wouldn’t have had a problem if she properly credited me and linked the original story. I wouldn’t have had a problem if she didn’t blatantly copy and paste the entire text and premise. I wouldn’t even require getting permission to write a story based on my fic if she had satisfied those conditions.

She’s a 27-year-old grown-ass woman with enough free time to simp over some blond guy with an eyepatch. I’m a 21-year-old college student who only posts fics during the summer and winter because that’s when school’s on break. I’m too busy writing lab reports and essays to be an active writer online. The fact that she can disrespect smaller writers so tremendously should not be acceptable. The fact that she also deceived her devoted readers and friends about her "works" is also unacceptable.

What can you do about this? To be honest, I don’t know what to do. I’ve never had to deal with this before. I want to be a good person and say, “Don’t send any hate to Anne, don’t harass her. Just unfollow her and stop supporting her.” But that obviously hasn’t taught her anything. She’ll just make a half-assed apology, maybe go on hiatus, maybe disappear, and then pop up again under another name to steal from another creator. If you have any ideas on how to deal with this, please tell us. 

She can try to block me or delete her posts, but the evidence is out and the damage is done. Anything she does to hide this mess will only make it worse for her. I’d appreciate people bringing more awareness to this issue, especially if it can reach the eyes of others she’s taken from. 

Thanks for reading.

[itadores]

note: sakura's so cute ^-^

pairing: sakura haruka x gender neutral reader

tags: gender neutral reader, silliness, fluff

staring at the wall ahead of you, you're faced with an impossible decision.

which stuffed animal should you buy?

you suddenly cry out, startling sakura who’s standing beside you, and grip your head in despair. "they're all so cute, i can't choose," you exclaim. making decisions has never been your strong suit, and when faced with so many options, you're at a complete and utter loss of what to do.

sakura looks at you a little strangely.

"aren't they all basically the same? it's a stuffed animal," sakura remarks.

you tear your eyes away from the wall of stuffed animals to turn your attention towards sakura. “they are not ‘all basically the same,’” you parrot back to sakura. you motion towards the stack of plushes that nearly stretches across the entire wall of the store, waving your hand wildly. “they’re all different!”

you grab two stuffed animal at random to use as your example. “see this,” you raise the stuffed animal in your right hand, “this is obviously a bunny,” you say before raising the stuffed animal in your left hand, “while this is a dinosaur. not only are they two completely different creatures, but the colors are different as well as the material.”

“i don't get it," sakura bluntly says.

you droop, the stuffed animals in your hands falling to your side. honestly, you didn't really expect sakura to understand your interest in stuffed animals since he doesn’t share the same passion for it as you do, but you're glad he still chose to accompany you regardless.

“it’s fine, i didn’t expect you to understand,” you say, although not unkindly as you place the stuffed animals you grabbed at random back in their respective spots. “i know i can get rather excited when it comes to plushies and other cute things.”

that may be an understatement given the number of stuffed animals and other cute collectibles you already have in your possession, but you don’t need the whole store knowing that.

“i’m just happy you’re here.”

you look over your shoulder, smiling at sakura. he ducks his head, his bangs barely concealing the flush on his cheeks.

“i don’t understand why you like all of this so much,” sakura admits, “but you like it so…”

he trails off at the end, but you understand what he’s trying to convey. it makes you smile once more. sakura is so unaware of how sweet and endearing he can be. it makes you want to lavish him in praise and compliments, but you hold back. you don’t want to embarrass him when he’s in the middle of opening up to you a little bit more.

“thanks, sakura,” you settle on saying. hopefully in the future, you’ll be able to tell sakura everything you want to tell him, but for right now, you’re content taking things at whatever pace works best for him.

“now help me choose!” you exclaim, moving closer to sakura and looping your arms together. he stumbles, knocking his shoulders against yours before quickly stabilizing himself.

“don’t just randomly grab me,” sakura grumbles, shifting in place but making no move to disentangle himself from you.

“sorry,” you reply, utterly unrepentant. "now let's focus on the mission at hand!"

you point out a bunch of different plushes you find cute to sakura, who's unable to offer much help in your decision-making process. it's fine though because the decision becomes crystal clear for you when your gaze lands on a black and white cat plushie that's nestled on one of the lower levels of the shelving unit. it's perfect. all of the stuffed animals you were looking at were cute, but none as cute as the cat plush you now have in hand. you're quick to buy it, leaving the store pleased as can be with your purchase.

as you leave the shop, sakura asks what made you want that stuffed animal out of all the ones you looked at. after all, you had such a hard time choosing which one to buy just to make a decision as soon as you laid eyes on the cat plush. you just shrug and tell him that it's cute, and you liked it the most out of all of them.

what you don't tell sakura is that the black and white cat reminds you of a certain someone. you don't think his poor heart could take it, so you keep it to yourself for now.

maybe, sakura will figure it out for himself in the future.