#i need it to go on for like… a whole week lol

[kindalonely-ngl]

Man, I would cry from stress! I've been broke since childhood and the last time I ever wore branded clothes was when I was 9 or 10 years old. After that my family's financial state went 📉 until now. In our tradition, parents would give their daughters gold bracelets, necklaces or anklets but I'd never have those. Never had jewelries, branded and pretty clothes, fancy handbags, pretty shoes, and never have I ever own nice skincare and makeup sets. Bet I am the most unfashionable person you'd ever meet in this life lol. If Sylus ever come to me and give me his card expecting me to go batshit crazy, he would have chronic migraine for a whole week and I would be sobbing like a kid from the stress and pressure to have tons of money and don't know what to do with it. I mean, I would use his money to pay my student loan, although it won't be enough for him, I have about $2k left. While I'm at it maybe I'll buy a unit of comfy, private condominium. Fully furnished with air conditioners in every room. I would schedule weekly groceries delivery, maid service every fortnight, an on-call driver who will be there whenever I want to go somewhere. Maybe change my ugly appearance ie dentist, hair treatment, skin expert, monthly spa session, ugh do I have to workout though?? Nah, let's just go to slimming and center or whatever and let them slim me down without me lifting a finger lol. I guess that's it?? He wants me to cover in shiny jewelries? Pretty clothes? Expensive head-to-toe? He needs to buy all that shit for me because I don't know a thing about fashion and jewelries. Oh, the gap between us is too huge that I'm happy he's not real. I wouldn't even dare to steal a glance at such a prestige and divine man like Sylus. I'm just a potato who dreams of owning a cute lil apartment and live there alone, walking through life at my own pace.

Hi! Can I ask for a Sylus fluff, where he gives the reader his bank card for her to go shopping, and he expects a bill to be at least $10,000, but all he sees is about $100. So he asks her if she bought everything she wanted, and she says something like "yeah, there were such good discounts, I didn't spend too much, did I?"

And man is just ಠ⁠益⁠ಠ GIRL GO SPEND MY MONEY I WANT TO SPOIL YOU

My beloved @lalaluch I cannot explain to you just how much fun this was to even imagine but let alone even WRITE 🩷 like I was losing my mind trying to bust out my Google docs to even make this. But my sickness was literally getting to me that all I could do was imagine--but anywhoo now that it's finally done I hope you all enjoy it ✨️

p.s: I hope this sickness finally leaves me because it be making me internally cry on the inside ...I pray for prayers lol 💅🏻

BUDGET QUEEN

It had taken weeks of gentle coaxing, half-joking remarks, and the occasional exasperated sigh before you’d reluctantly agreed. You had this stubborn streak, an insistence on independence that both irritated and fascinated him. But today, you’d finally caved.

“You’ll take it,” Sylus had said that morning, slipping the sleek card into your hand, his fingers brushing against your palm. “No arguments. No excuses.”

You had sighed, rolling your eyes. “Fine. But I’m not going crazy with it?!”

He had only smirked, knowing full well you would—and knowing full well that he wanted you to.

And now, hours later, he awaited the results.

Sylus leaned back in his leather chair, his crimson eyes flicking lazily over the documents cluttering his desk. A rare break in his usual chaos had him sipping on his usual drink, savoring the brief quiet. That was until his phone buzzed. He set his glass down and checked the notification, a message from his bank popping up.

He expected it—he wanted it. You had finally caved to his insistence after a literal month of convincing and taken his black card to go shopping. He’d envisioned the inevitable message all morning, something like:

One-hundred million spent at Celine and The Row’s combined?

Or perhaps?

Fifty million at Loro Piana?

You’d mentioned their beauty and elegance more than once.

Nevertheless, the man wanted indulgence, excess—you deserved it, after all.

Instead, the message read:

$157.45 at… Assorted Stores.

Sylus stared at the screen, unblinking. Surely, this was a mistake. He refreshed his balance multiple times. Same amount. He checked for pending transactions. None.

“…What?” he muttered, his irritation simmering beneath the surface. He slammed his phone down, crossing his arms as he waited for you to return.

Minutes later, the front door opened, and you walked in, humming happily, two bags dangling from your arms. You looked utterly content, your warm smile sending a pang through Sylus’s chest. He didn’t want to ruin the moment, but he had questions.

“You’re back,” he said, leaning against the doorframe to his study, watching you set the bags down in the living room. His towering presence cast a shadow over you, his white hair catching the light, giving him an almost otherworldly aura.

“Yup!” you chirped, rifling through the bags. “You wouldn’t believe the deals I found today! It’s like the universe knew I had your card!”

Sylus squinted. “Deals?”

“Yeah! Everything was on sale! I even had coupons for some things. Oh, and this boutique downtown was having a clearance event! It was amazing!” You beamed at him, oblivious to his growing disbelief.

“Clearance? ..…How much did you spend?” he asked, his voice neutral. Too neutral.

“Um…” You frowned, pulling your phone out to check. “About a few hundred, I think? Oh, wait—like one-fifty! I didn’t spend too much, did I?” You tilted your head, as if genuinely concerned.

Sylus stared at you, his expression shifting to one of incredulous disbelief. His red eyes seemed to glow, and his lips pressed into a thin line. It was the look of a man deeply offended. Not by you—but by the principle.

“…That’s it?” he asked, his voice sharp but measured, as if he were trying to comprehend an alien concept. “One-fifty?”

You blinked up at him, a little confused by his tone. “Well, yes… I mean, I didn’t want to waste your money—”

“Waste my—” He cut himself off, running a hand through his snowy hair. He took a deep breath, trying to keep his composure. “Sweetheart,” he said slowly, ��do you have any idea why I gave you my card?”

“To… buy some stuff?” you offered, suddenly feeling like you were missing something obvious.

“To spoil you,” he emphasized, stepping closer. “To treat you like the queen you are. To shower you in luxury. And you—” He gestured to the modest shopping bags on the floor, his voice taking on a dramatic edge. “—come back with clearance items?”

Your cheeks flushed. “But… I didn’t need anything expensive! I found good deals, and I thought—”

“No.” Sylus leaned down slightly, bringing himself to eye level with you, his crimson eyes boring into yours. “Listen to me, love. I don’t care about the price tag. I want you to have the best. The fact that you’re this thoughtful is adorable—don’t get me wrong—but next time…” He paused, his voice dropping into a softer, more commanding tone. “…I want to see receipts that would make the average person cry.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“I’m not.” He straightened, towering over you again, his arms crossing. “Do you know how much money I make? How much I’ve set aside specifically to spoil you?”

“I can guess?…”

“Clearly not if you’re spending less than a casual dinner out on everything.” His voice was calm, but laced with unmistakable disapproval.

Then, with a breath, he softened—only slightly. “I just want to see you dressed in diamonds,” he corrected, stepping closer, his towering frame casting a shadow over you. “To watch you slip into golden heels that make you shine like the goddess you are. To drape you in silk and velvet, to see you standing before me in a dress that costs more than a car and still doesn’t compare to your worth.”

Your lips parted slightly, caught off guard by the sudden weight in his words.

“I gave you my card,” he continued, voice lower now, intimate, “because I want you to indulge. To spoil yourself the way I ache to spoil you. Because you deserve to walk into a store and not think—just watch and admire”

Your throat went dry.

He lifted his hand, fingers brushing over your wrist before tracing upward, his touch featherlight against your skin. “I want to see you try on jewelry without looking at the price tag,” he murmured. “I want to sit back and watch as a saleswoman fumbles to put a necklace around your throat because her hands are shaking too much from the sheer amount of wealth wrapped around you.”

His gaze dipped lower, lingering on your frame as he exhaled through his nose. “And instead… you bring me deals?”

Your heart pounded, a mix of amusement and something else entirely stirring in your chest. “I didn’t think I needed to spend that much—”

“You don’t need to,” he interrupted, thumb ghosting over your jawline. His voice was softer now, but no less commanding. “But I want you to.”

Your face heated.

“Next time, I’m going with you.”

“What, to make sure I spend enough?” you teased.

“Yes,” he said, dead serious. “And to carry your bags. And to remind you that you can have whatever you want.” His red eyes softened slightly, and he tilted your chin up with two fingers. “All I want is to see you happy. No discounts required.”

You smiled at his sincerity, warmth blooming in your chest. “Okay, fine. Next time, I’ll go a little crazier. Maybe five million?” you joked.

Sylus groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Woman, you’re going to be the death of me.”

You laughed, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck. “You’re so dramatic, you know that?”

“And you’re too frugal for your own good,” he shot back, pulling you into his arms. His voice softened, turning almost playful. “But I guess I’ll just have to teach you how to spend properly.”

“Looking forward to it,” you said, grinning against his chest.

Sylus sighed, resting his chin atop your head. As much as he wanted to spoil you senseless, he couldn’t help but love your thoughtful, practical side. It was part of what made you you—and he wouldn’t trade that for anything.

Still, next time… he was definitely making sure you left the store with at least an entire closet filled with designer bags.

For his sanity—and yours.

[isaisliterallyhim]

hey can you please write about reader giving nagi a handjob while he's playing but as revenge because he's been ignoring reader for his games so reader doesn't let him cum unless he wins the round but he can't focus on the game because of the pleasure he's feeling!! hoping for a kinda subby nagi if that's alright <3

YES YES OMG ANON BBY I SEE IT AHJWJSAJ delicious plot hehe!

"i'm about to show you, baby slow down!"

ft. nagi seishiro . ooc! nagi ? . somewhat sub! nagi heh . aged up! characters . established-relationships . fem! reader . nsfw . smut . handjobs . cockwarming in the end ? . nagi's kinda a dick rn . use of mommy ig... . unreliable narrator.. :^

wc: 0.5k

cw: this might be dub-con idk tho

"my girlfriend's always harassing me whenever i'm tryna play a game.. what a hassle," nagi started off. his friends giggled on vc. "she's a nice person, you'll get used to it."

a few rounds of horror games, nagi was carrying hard. (heh hard like him :x) horror games were yea, a hassle. but, not a hassle to him. unlike his friends, nagi didn't really scream. shit, he was so lazy he didn't even wanna be fazed.

this round in particular though... "g-good god..." the man whined, spasming a little. "you good, nagi?" bachira asked. "is the horror finally getting to you?" your softer, smaller hands pumping at his cock :p

it started off slow, nagi didn't really notice at first. slow and steady wins the race right? but after a few more minutes of getting ignored, you fastened the pace.

you locked eyes with nagi. your lips curling into a smirk. "sei, what're your friends g'na think when they realize that when you're receiving a handjob with little to no lubrication at all?" you began. "your cock was leaking so much pre — it was like you wanted me to do this!" you continued to yap, face now no longer in a cocky demeanor but, in a pouty expression now.

"[n-name]," the grey eyed man moaned out. your expression, your hands... the stimulation was getting to him. "w-wait guys- oooh..." nagi tried to get out, his voice now strained. "nagi, you weren't even screaming are you good?" isagi asked. screaming? nah this guy was CREAMING.

"y-yep, i'm good," he stuttered out. "i jus' need a few minutes off real qui.." his voice trailed off as he muted himself. his hand released the mouse as his calloused fingers wrapped around your hand. nagi began thrusting into your hand.

his shaft was absolutely tearing up, just like the man. tears leaked from his eyes while there was a bit of semen leaking out of his tip LOL.

"[name], s-slow down.. [name], i-i.." he couldn't even get the words out as he scrunched his eye shut. "sei, yknow you dont deserve this at all.. all you've done was ignore me n shit this whole week..." you frowned. nagi knew he was coming close, hell he WAS going to come.

"i'm sorry mommy, i didn' mean t'- god! please, i'm sorry!" he apologized. the stimulation actually got to nagi as he came. his precious n delicious come leaked out as he let out the most gorgeous moan you've ever heard during the whole time you two were together.

your eyes kinda widened. nagi had this flushed, fucked out expression. he was panting like crazy. "[name], i'm so sorry.." he sobbed.

"what happened to emotions being a hassle, seishiro?" you teased. his sweatpants n boxers were to his knees LOL. nagi slid down your shorts n panties. "please let me feel your warm cunt, ma'am.. please use me f' your pleasure, pretty.." nagi mumbled. most genuine mumble omd...

"my bad guys, i'm back." nagi grunted after unmuting. nagi had a little bit of struggle seeing the PC screen with his gorgeous partner's warm n tight walls clenching against his shaft. let's just say, nagi wasn't the best player after LOL.

— ©isaisliterallyhim, 2025

tags! : @twijaxx ♡, @kyvkc

a/n : errr... idk man i came back from training w my corps i j wrote this and threw it .. kinda late night post so uhwhhdaj sorry for the unreadabler englush i tried ok ygs i j went thru a breakup pls give me credit for trying. nyways, nagi ohf wakkk hes so hot omg.. i need that 190 cm man in me omgmgmjddkkwjd anyhow i hope ygs enjoyed hehe

[7-deadly-cats]

killing me softly (part one)

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!introverted!kook!reader

cw: swearing, very indirect subtle mention of sexual activities (no actual scenes), mention of drug usage (no actual scene)

synopsys: it's the last year of high school and y/n is paired up with rafe cameron for a 2 week project in art class. this wouldn't be a problem if y/n wasn't awkward as hell and well ... if there wasn't her big fat crush on him.

word count: 2144

a/n: i haven't written this kind of stuff since like 8th grade (i recently graduated from university sooo yeah) but i kinda felt like it now and idk. there are so many smut involved fics on here (which isn't bad, i just need more softer slow burn stuff). not saying there won't be any smut in future parts hihihihi. also i have no clue how the american school system works (i'm from europe) so pls just accept this lol. and kelce's last name is statter bc apparently it was never mentioned in the show. anyway, this is for all my introverted and overthinking girlies (who may or may not be little freaks) <3

*****

Fuck my life.

That was the only thing on your mind as Mr. Smith announced the partners for the upcoming two-week art project. In pairs, you were supposed to create a reinterpretation of the Greek gods.

The assignment wasn’t the problem. In fact, it actually sounded kind of fun. But your partner? Yeah, that was the real issue.

Fucking Rafe Cameron.

Of all the people in this class, it had to be him. You didn’t even know why he'd chosen this class. Rafe was probably the last guy you’d expect to take an art elective—well, right after Kelce Statter.

He'd probably thought it was an easy class to boost his GPA. Rookie mistake.

Okay, whatever, it was just a small project. You could handle this.

NO, YOU COULDN’T, HOLY SHIT.

The thought of working with Rafe Cameron made your skin crawl. In all your years at Kildare Academy, you'd maybe exchanged two words with him—and that was only because he'd mistaken you for another girl.

"Y/N, right?" Rafe appeared at your desk at the end of class, a bored expression on his face.

Okay, okay, just act normal. Be nice. You nodded. "Yeah."

Rafe stared at you for a moment, like he was waiting for you to say more. His eyebrows furrowed slightly before he tilted his head. "Cool, okay. Let’s just meet up during lunch break and get this over with."

Did he seriously think you could finish a two-week project in one lunch break?

When he saw the look on your face, he raised his brows in amusement, his tone teasing. "What? You too busy?"

Your cheeks heated up as you shook your head. "No, lunch sounds good."

"Okay, then let’s meet after the fifth period." Before you could ask where you should meet him, he turned around and disappeared out of the classroom.

You frowned. This was off to a great start.

Just two weeks, you reminded yourself as you slung your bag over your shoulder and headed to math class.

On the way, you unlocked your phone to text your bestie Cara:

You shoved your phone away and tried to ignore the uneasiness creeping into your stomach.

You didn’t usually have trouble talking to guys but Rafe Cameron was a whole different story. Not because he was "too cool" or some dumb shit like that.

No, Rafe was just... intimidating. Not in that bad-boy, cringe Wattpad kind of way. It was something else, something you couldn’t quite put into words.

He wasn’t arrogant—he was proud. He was loud, but not in the annoying way Kelce Statton was. He wasn’t rude—he just said whatever the hell was on his mind.

He was just ... himself. And yet, somehow he wasn't. It felt like there was a lot more going on beneath the surface.

Maybe that was what made him so interesting to you. Sure, he had a nice face and a well-known name, no doubt about that. But more than anything, you wanted to know why he was the way he was.

Was he just a blunt person who didn’t give a fuck, or was there more to him than his looks and his last name?

So yeah, maybe a part of you was curious about him. But he had such an overwhelming presence, you wouldn’t even know where to start.

In the past, he'd had a few friends-with-benefits situations, but none of them had lasted long. And that was definitely a path you didn't want to go down. Under different circumstances, maybe you could but you've never even held hands with a guy, let alone kissed one or—yeah, no, not going there.

Okay, chill. Internally, you cursed Cara for fueling your delusions.

You had more important problems at right now anyway. Like math class with Mrs. Richman. And no one could claim you were a star student in that subject.

----

The lesson dragged on, your thoughts constantly drifting. After class, you were supposed to meet Rafe.

Rafe, who had PE right now.

Shit. You tried not to think about a sweaty, heavy-breathing, and—NOPE, NOT NOW.

"Okay, that’s it for today. Don’t forget about the math test next week. But for now, go enjoy the nice weather," Mrs. Richman announced, dismissing the class.

Your hands felt clammy as you got up to leave. What the fuck is wrong with me?

You headed to the restroom and washed your hands. Why were you so nervous about spending one lunch break with Rafe Cameron? Fuck you, social anxiety.

"Everything okay?" A soft voice pulled you from your thoughts. "You look kinda pale."

You turned to see the pretty face of Molly Crane. Red hair, cute freckles, and a super charming smile. She was one of the few Kooks (if any existed at all) who was genuinely nice.

You forced a smile. "Yeah, yeah, all good. I think I just ate something bad for breakfast."

Molly didn't look convinced. "You sure? You look like you’ve seen a ghost."

"Really, thanks, Molly. I’m fine now." With an awkward smile, you excused yourself and headed out—only to realize that, well… great, you and Rafe had never picked a meeting spot.

Brrrt.

Your phone had been buzzing since math class. Of course, it had been Cara.

You rolled your eyes with a smile and texted back.

Should you really wait in front of the gym? That felt weird af. But at the same time, you didn’t want to miss him and end up having an awkward conversation about it in the next art class.

The dining hall would've been the most obvious meeting place, but would Rafe actually look for you there?

You pressed your lips together. Fuck it.

Heart pounding, you headed toward the gym.

Good thing your body totally knew how to distinguish between social interaction and actual danger.

When you arrived, you heard muffled voices of the boys inside, along with Coach Brown’s instructions.

Just breathe, it’s just one lunch break, you told yourself. Then again, this was probably how the next two weeks were going to feel.

You held your breath as the gym doors swung open, and a crowd of sweaty—oops wrong, freshly showered—boys streamed out.

You awkwardly stepped to the side, ignoring the curious glances thrown your way.

No sign of Rafe yet. A sick feeling settled in your stomach. Even worse than being here and having to explain HOW you knew that he would be here, would be explaining why you were standing there if he didn’t actually have PE right now.

But then relief washed over you when you spotted Kelce Statter and Topper Thornton. And right behind them—Rafe Cameron.

You tightened your grip on your bag. Okay, okay, I can do this. They’ll probably say bye to Rafe and leave for lunch now.

They didn’t. Great.

When Rafe saw you, something flickered in his gaze that you didn’t want to analyze. You expected him to just walk past you but instead, he headed straight toward you—with Kelce and Topper right behind him.

Just smile. No, not like that, you probably look like a creep. Oh god, okay.

"Hey," Rafe greeted you with a slightly puzzled smile as the three of them stopped in front of you. "I didn't expect you here."

In other words: Did you stalk me or how did you know I was here?

Kelce and Topper eyed you with amusement. This is so unbelievably embarrassing.

Blushing, you pointed at the gym bag slung over his shoulder. "Well, I saw you bringing a sports bag today, and PE is usually scheduled right before lunch ... so I just assumed you’d be here."

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Kelce stifling a laugh. You wanted to disappear from Earth, no from this universe. No way anyone would believe--

"Right," Rafe replied with a lopsided grin. "I would’ve just waited in the dining hall."

So you had been right. And you could've saved yourself this painfully awkward moment. G-r-e-a-t.

"Good thinking though. The faster we get this project over with, the better."

Shit, did Rafe just compliment you? Then again, why did the last sentence sound like he didn't want to work with you?

You smiled awkwardly. "Exactly."

"You're Y/N Y/L/N, right? Your mom owns Y/L/N Yacht Sales." Topper’s voice cut in, and you were grateful for the topic change.

You nodded. "Yeah."

Was that admiration on Topper’s face?

"Ohh, a business Mommy, I like that", Kelce said, and both Topper and Rafe eyed him with shaking heads.

Topper blinked at him annoyed. "Bro, shut the fuck up for once."

Kelce just laughed.

"My dad bought a Grady-White from you guys recently," Rafe remarked, and your gaze flicked back to his blue eyes.

Jesus, he wasn’t just looking at you—he was staring into your soul. If he was always looking at girls like that you'd gladly be his friends-with-benefits-girl.

You prayed to whatever gods were listening that you didn’t blush. "I remember. A 456 Canyon."

The corner of Rafe’s mouth twitched up. "Yeah, a pretty model."

Your cheeks warmed, and either he didn’t notice, or he chose not to comment on it.

"Oh shit, that sounds like a boat party," Kelce chimed in with a grin and looked at you. "If I were you, I’d have thrown a dozen parties by now. So many possibilities…"

Rafe scoffed amused. "Good thing she isn’t, or her family would be broke by now."

You allowed yourself a small smirk.

„Hey, I’m just saying.“ Kelce raised his hands innocently.

Topper tapped him on the chest with the back of his hand. „Okay, dude, and I’m saying we’re leaving now before you say more stupid shit.“ Then he looked at you apologetically and turned his gaze to Rafe. „See you later.“

Rafe just gave him a short nod, his expression hard to read, before turning back to you with a tired smile as Kelce and Topper disappeared behind the gym. „So, you hungry?“

Why did this situation suddenly feel so… intimate? It wasn’t. Definitely not. There was absolutely no reason to feel weird about this. And yet—standing here alone with Rafe Cameron was… a lot. Maybe it was the way he looked at you—calm, focused, as if he was actually paying attention.

Or maybe it was the damn wet strands of hair falling into his forehead after his shower.

Get a grip.

You nodded quickly, trying not to overthink it. „The cafeteria has quinoa veggie bowls today. Or fries, if you’re not into influencer food.“

Oh God. Was that your attempt at being funny? Tragic.

Rafe’s lips twitched with amusement. „So, you’re assuming I don’t like quinoa bowls?“

Oh. Oh no.

Heat immediately rushed to your face, and you could feel your cheeks burning. Why the hell did you say that?

„No—I mean…“ You let out a nervous laugh, which sounded more like a weird cough. „Not that you wouldn’t like it, but you’re just more like—uh, not that I’m putting you in a box or anything, but you don’t seem like someone who… uh…“

Rafe raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. „Someone who eats quinoa?“

You sighed. „Forget it. I’m just talking nonsense.“

„No, no, now I’m curious.“ His voice was amused, almost teasing. „How exactly do I seem?“

You swallowed. Shit.

„Uh…“ Your eyes flickered over him for a second—his broad shoulders, the damp strands of hair falling into his forehead, the fresh polo shirt fitting way too well against his body—oh God, wrong direction.

„I just meant…“ Maybe you should just stop talking and dig your own grave. You sighed and smiled awkwardly. „Okay, look, I'm sorry if you’re actually a secret quinoa veggie bowl advocate. I didn’t mean to sound condescending.“

Rafe laughed. Not in a mocking way—no, it was real, warm, which somehow made it worse because it only made you more nervous.

„No, no, I get it,“ he said, shrugging with an amused smile. „I guess I need to work out more if I’m giving off ‘fries guy’ vibes.“

Your eyes widened, and you quickly shook your head. „That’s not what—“

„Relax, I know what you meant.“ He cut you off, tilting his head toward the dining hall. „Come on, you can keep judging me in there.“

I am the most embarrassing person alive, you thought, face still burning.

Still, you fell into step beside him, gripping the strap of your bag a little tighter. Brain, could you please shut the hell up? Thanks.

It didn’t.

Because why did Rafe’s presence feel so overwhelming—in the best way possible? And why did his ridiculously good aftershave still linger in the air between you, like some kind of cruel distraction?

And most importantly—how the hell were you supposed to survive two whole weeks of this?

[28harryssunflower]

Could you maybe do an angsty one with a happy ending? Harry is mistreating/ not putting y/n or the relationship first. He gets defensive at first when y/n brings it up

I didn’t know what era you preferred, so I chose the 2017-ish era. Hope that’s fine! But in the end you can imagine whatever era lol. It’s just about the picture at the top!

Hope it matches your expectations xx

Gone but not forgotten

It wasn’t always like this.

There was a time when Harry made you feel like you were the most important thing in his world. He used to text you first thing in the morning, send you little voice notes throughout the day, and surprise you with coffee when he knew you had a long afternoon ahead. He used to come home and pull you into his arms like he needed you, like you were the best part of his day.

Now? Now, you felt like an afterthought.

It started slow - plans canceled at the last minute, phone calls ignored, messages left on read. Then it became days without a word from him. Nights where he barely acknowledged you. Excuses that felt emptier every time he spoke them.

And it wasn’t just the silence. It was how he treated you when he was home.

When you tried to talk, he barely listened, nodding absently as he scrolled through his phone. When you reached for him, he’d pull away, muttering that he was tired. He didn’t touch you the way he used to, didn’t look at you the way he used to. You felt invisible, like he had already walked out of the relationship but forgot to tell you.

And you tried. God, you tried.

You made his favorite dinners, hoping he’d sit and eat with you instead of disappearing into the bedroom. You asked him about his day, even when he never asked about yours. You pretended it didn’t hurt when he came home late and went straight to bed without so much as a goodnight.

But tonight, something inside you snapped.

It was nearly 2AM when he finally walked through the front door. You sat curled on the couch, staring at your phone, your last unanswered message still on the screen: When are you coming home?

He didn’t even look at you. Just sighed, kicked off his shoes, and dropped onto the couch like he was the one suffering.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, voice tight. “You don’t even look at me anymore.”

Harry barely reacted. Just ran a hand through his curls and muttered, “Not now.”

You let out a bitter laugh. “Right. Not now.”

“Can we not do this tonight?” he sighed.

“No, Harry. We are doing this tonight,” you snapped, standing up. “Because I am so tired of feeling like I don’t even exist to you.”

His jaw clenched, but he still wouldn’t look at you. “You’re being dramatic.”

Your heart cracked, but you pushed through. “Dramatic?” Your voice shook with anger. “I never see you. You don’t call, you don’t text, you barely talk to me. You’re home maybe twice a week, and when you are, you don’t even fucking acknowledge me.”

“I’ve been busy,” he muttered.

“Busy?” You let out a hollow laugh. “You’re always busy, Harry. But you’re never too busy for your friends. You’re never too busy for a night out. You’re never too busy to go to some fucking fashion event. You’re only ever too busy for me.”

His eyes snapped to yours, irritation flashing in them. “That’s not true.”

“It is true!” you shot back. “Do you even realize the last time we spent a full day together? The last time we had an actual conversation that wasn’t just me asking for your time?”

Harry rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “Christ, I can’t do this right now.”

Your whole body stiffened. “You never want to do this. You never want to talk. You just expect me to sit here and accept the fact that I don’t fucking matter to you anymore.”

His expression darkened. “That’s not fair.”

“No, what’s not fair is how I’ve felt these past few months,” you shot back, your voice rising. “You put everything before me. I feel like I don’t even fucking exist to you anymore!”

“You know that’s not true,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Do I?” You scoffed. “Because every single thing in your life comes first. The studio, the tour, your career, your friends. Fucking Christ, strangers get more of you than I do. I don’t even know if you love me anymore.”

Harry’s face twisted with frustration. “Are you serious right now?”

“Yes! I am dead serious! Because I’ve spent months wondering what the hell I did wrong! If I wasn’t pretty enough, if I wasn’t good enough. If you just fucking stopped loving me and didn’t have the decency to tell me.”

His whole body went still.

You swallowed hard, trying to stop your voice from shaking. “Do you have any idea what that feels like? To sit alone every night, wondering why you’re not enough for the person you love? To look in the mirror and hate yourself because you think you are the problem?” Your breath hitched, the weight of it all crashing down. “And the worst part? You let me. You let me believe that I wasn’t worth your time.”

Silence.

Harry just stared at you, his face pale, his lips slightly parted. He looked like you had just shattered something inside him.

And then the tears came. You broke, a sob ripping through your chest as you clutched your arms around yourself, trying to hold it all in. But then, suddenly, Harry was there.

His arms wrapped around you, holding you tightly. You tensed at first, but then the warmth of his embrace shattered whatever restraint you had left. You collapsed into him, burying your face in his chest, sobbing so hard your whole body shook.

He held you like he was afraid you’d disappear. His hands ran up and down your back, his lips pressed into your hair. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, voice thick with emotion. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

You clung to him, gripping his hoodie, letting out every tear you had held back for months.

After what felt like forever, your sobs quieted. The exhaustion hit you like a wave, and Harry pulled you down onto the couch with him, tucking you into his chest. His arms stayed wrapped around you like he was afraid to let go.

“I never stopped loving you,” he murmured after a long silence. His voice was hoarse, like he had to force the words out. “I was just so caught up in everything, I- I didn’t see what I was doing to you.” He swallowed hard. “I hate that I made you feel that way. That I made you question yourself.”

You closed your eyes, your body still trembling. “You hurt me, Harry.”

“I know,” he whispered. His grip tightened around you. “I swear to you, I’ll fix this. I’ll fix us.”

You wanted to believe him

For now, you just let yourself breathe in his warmth, hoping that this time, he meant it.

The morning after the argument, you woke up to the sound of quiet movement in the kitchen. For a second, you thought you had imagined it. Harry was never up before you. But when you peeked into the kitchen, there he was.

He was standing by the stove, shirt rumpled, hair a mess, clumsily flipping pancakes.

It wasn’t perfect. There was flour on the counter, a sticky bottle of syrup sitting dangerously close to the edge, and from the slightly burnt smell, it was clear this wasn’t his first attempt. But when he turned around and saw you standing there, something in his face softened.

“Hey,” he said, almost hesitant.

You blinked. “You’re making breakfast?”

He scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah. I, uh… I figured you shouldn’t have to wake up alone again.”

Your heart clenched.

You wanted to be mad. Wanted to remind him that one breakfast wouldn’t erase months of neglect. But the sincerity in his voice, the way his green eyes searched yours like he was hoping you wouldn’t push him away - it made something in you thaw, just a little.

So you sat down, letting him serve you the most uneven stack of pancakes you’d ever seen. And when he poured your coffee just the way you liked it, remembering exactly how much sugar to add, you realized: He was trying.

That’s what the next few weeks were.

Small things, big efforts.

At first, it was just tiny changes - goodnight texts when he was at the studio late, longer hugs when he came home, soft kisses pressed into your hair when he thought you were asleep. He started noticing you again. Asking how your day was. Actually listening to your answers.

Then, the changes got bigger.

One night, when you were curled up on the couch scrolling through your phone, Harry sat down beside you and nudged your leg with his knee.

“Let’s go out tomorrow,” he said.

You glanced at him in surprise. “Out?”

“Yeah.” He reached for your hand, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. “Like a real date. Dinner, maybe a movie after. Whatever you want.”

You stared at him, half expecting him to say just kidding. But he didn’t. He just looked at you with this quiet determination, like he wanted to do this, like he needed to.

So you said yes.

And when the date actually happened, when he held your hand the entire time and kept stealing glances at you like he couldn’t believe he had let himself drift so far away from you - you felt the smallest flicker of hope.

The intimacy was the last thing to return.

It wasn’t that Harry didn’t touch you - he did. But there was a hesitancy now, a carefulness, like he was afraid to push too soon.

One night, as you lay in bed beside him, staring up at the ceiling, you whispered, “Why are you being so careful with me?”

Harry turned his head, his eyes heavy with guilt. “Because I don’t deserve to hold you the way I used to.”

Your chest tightened.

You turned on your side to face him, your fingers tracing absent patterns on his arm. “I still want you to.”

He swallowed hard. “I don’t want to hurt you again.”

“You won’t,” you murmured. “Not if you keep trying.”

For a long moment, he just looked at you. Then, slowly, carefully, he reached out and brushed a strand of hair from your face. His touch was hesitant, but when you leaned into it, he let out a shaky breath - like he had been holding it for weeks. Then he softly and carefully connected your lips.

And when he finally pulled you into his arms, holding you close, his lips pressing into the top of your head - you felt, for the first time in a long time, like maybe things could really be okay again.

Not perfect. Not yet.

But better.

And for now, that was enough.

[hyperions-light]

@uchidachi requested I do this one, and now that the activity around it has calmed down a bit, I thought it’d be fun!

I’ve briefly considered this topic before, but thinking about it for longer I’m pretty sure that if Lucanis or Neve brought this up (lbr here, it’d be Lucanis) it would start a fight lol

Marriage sounds like it involves a whole bunch of things Leth doesn’t like such as

-rules

-legal proceedings

-interacting with authority figures

-politics

However, they do love parties and wearing fancy clothes, so it has that going for it.

Putting the rest under the cut, bc long lol

But I think ultimately the idea would kind of freak them out, because then like… what about Teia and Viago? They have a weird situationship going on that they don’t want to give up or have to think too hard about, and marriage might complicate it. Being freaked out would immediately cause them to start an argument, and then they’d probably run away and hide for some amount of time. (Leth’s instincts always say: fight until you can run, run until you can hide)

If they were eventually convinced (hard but not impossible) it would have to be a wedding where all three of them get married, because they'd think it was unfair, otherwise.

And then probably Lucanis would regret his decision because it would turn into the biggest, most elaborate party in the history of Treviso. Leth has never even met half of the people who show up. Teia is over the moon because any wild, extravagant thing she suggests Leth will enthusiastically cosign. Everyone is invited. EVERYONE. It should be a huge security risk because so many Talons (and the Black Divine and the Archon) are in the same place at once but everyone is so heavily armed it would be suicide to attack them. They probably ask Solas if he and Lavellan want to stop holding the sky together briefly so they can come too. Yes, the necromancers can bring the Necropolis skeletons. Of course Vorgoth is invited! Tell uncle Eldrin to bring the griffons!

Probably the only thing that Leth would actually debate with Teia about is clothes. They don't want to wear a dress (they aren't as good at stabbing people in them. What if they have to stab someone?), they want NEVE to wear a dress. There is a LOT of debating back and forth about color schemes and fabrics and tailoring. I think it's like Divine Conclave level serious; Teia and Leth are locked in a room for a week and everyone else goes in and out periodically looking utterly exhausted. They figure it out eventually, though. They find the right shades of purple and turquoise so that everything looks cohesive.

I think the biggest Issue with the wedding is probably politics. There's the Crow house alliance to worry about, which Viago would get huffy over, and there's Caterina. Viago is very convinced that if Leth is around Caterina for any substantive period of time, they are going to annoy her into killing them, so he's spent a lot of time impressing on them that they should stay tf away from her. But she's going to be their grandmother-in-law now! There's probably a lot of traditions to fulfill, like formal meetings and interviews and evaluations and dinners which will stress Lucanis out! Leth endures it with uncomfortable bemusement. They only irritate Caterina a moderate amount-- she definitely whacks them with that cane at least once. It's fine, though! Leth likes grumpy people and is good at dodging.

I think the celebration is like... Carnival or Mardi Gras, essentially. It lasts a week, no one leaves when they're supposed to, everyone is horribly inebriated. They need healers because the Lords of Fortune tried to play their drinking game in the canals and got sick immediately. People show up late; they go and come back and somehow the party is still happening. Lucanis, Neve and Viago definitely tap out at some point-- meanwhile, Teia, Illario, Isabela, and Leth are having an amazing time! It's sort of also a party to celebrate the apocalypse being averted?

I think Taash would make it through the whole time, Davrin would last a while but he has to do Griffon Wrangling eventually. Emmrich is out after like day two. Manfred would stay the whole time. Bel would have fun but I think she would get burned out on it eventually. I think all the faction leaders show at some point, but they also either 1) have stuff to do 2) do NOT want to spend a week in the middle of this chaos, so I think probably by the end it's just Teia and Isabela left.

Leth brings some of Harding's fade plants to decorate the venue and hand-delivers an invitation to Harding's mom. They order a barrel of that nasty shit they serve in the Hanged Man, and pour one out for Varric-- maybe Bianca sneaks in there at some point. There's probably a dramatic reading of Varric's least favorite book, just so Leth can annoy him in the afterlife.

I think it ends up sort of cathartic for everyone? Like, the wedding is why they come, but everyone needs to unwind from all the terrible shit that happened.

I think the actually romantic part is probably after, during the honeymoon. They just go somewhere quiet and isolated where Leth can make sure their two workaholic partners do absolutely nothing productive for two uninterrupted weeks. Treviso and Docktown will be okay without them, for a minute-- Viago and Elek promised.

Also after that Leth is bringing Lucanis and Neve to meet their clan, because they don't live with them anymore, but that doesn't mean they aren't important. Maybe the quiet, sincere version of the ceremony happens there, with nobody else around? And Leth is bullying them into matching tattoos, which they will do themself.

Hey, hope you all had a good weekend! Unfortunately, it’s Monday =/ Fortunately, it’s time for Rook Intro Hour! 🍀🌺🌼🌸

How it works: I ask you a question about your Rook(s) and you answer it with as much brevity or verbosity as you desire. You can do this whenever you want, and I’ll reblog it + add some comments! There’s no time limit— if you want to do the older ones, they are collected here! (The post is updated on Fridays!)

Today’s Question(s): Does your Rook want to get married to their LI(s)? Do they care about where? Is there a specific tradition/traditions they want to follow, when they do? Who would they invite? What would they wear?

Have fun & thanks for sharing!

[strawhatmay]

Just a little drabble I managed to write, but it IS my first ever piece of Zosan fanfiction 😭 (althought it is not about them lol) As always, constructive critiscism is more than welcomed.

A friend in the house

[Zoro runs into someone on the way to the bathroom in the Vinsmoke house]

It was late, very late, but Zoro really had to go take a piss, so he got up, grabbed Sanji’s robe and got out of the bedroom as quietly as possible.

 

This big ass house and no private bathroom, just the logic of Judge Vinsmoke, "let's make a gigantic one, practically a mansion, oh toilets? I don't give a fuck, put them wherever." Zoro never met him really, he died when Sanji was 6, good fucking riddance.

Even after the Vinsmoke siblings all turned 21, they still share a house. Sora insisted, she wanted them all in one place as long as they were happy here, and well, none of them had the heart to say no to their mom.

 

So that's why Zoro has to go through a maze to find a bathroom in the middle of the night, instead of just finding one a few steps away from the bed in a hypothetical apartment they would own. Or, Sanji would own, he means. Zoro would love to move in with him, but Sanji might like to have his own place for a bit before that.

 

 

Ah, Sanji. He needs to hurry up so he can go back to bed. They had a little argument a week ago and now they were back, he was back in his arms. It was silly, so silly, they just needed to talk it out, and last night Sanji called him saying he missed him, so Zoro was throwing tiny rocks at his window 5 minutes later.

 

"Yeah that's definitely the bathroom," Zoro thinks when he recognizes the door. Just when he's aproaching it, another figure in a bright pink robe appears in the dark and goes to the door as well. Both in robes so clearly from their respective partners, they stop and stare at each other.

 

 

"Roronoa" she aknowledges, a bit irritated.

 

"Tash" says Zoro, trying to sound friendly.

 

…awkward.

 

"Made up with Blondie?" Tashigi asks with a teasing smile.

 

"Back together with Pinkie?" Zoro answers.

 

She smiles. "Why else would I be here?"

 

"I don't know, maybe you were seeing one of her brothers."

 

"Ew."

 

"Or maybe you sneaked in," Zoro shrugs.

 

"Yeah right, cause I'M the one who climed through Sanji's balcony like three hours ago." Look at that, now she was teasing in a friendly way. Zoro can never tell if Tashigi is a friend or an enemy.

 

"How do you even know about that?" Zoro asks, suddendly worried the rest of the house heard him too.

 

"Sanji's room is right on top of the library, we literally saw you the whole time. You know you can just use the door, right?" she asks him like he's dumb.

 

"It's more fun this way" he says, trying to look nonchalant.

 

She pauses and then asks: "You’re scared of Zeff?"

Caught.

 

"...maybe, so what? He's intimidating" Zoro admits, because really, would anyone blame him?

 

"He's an old chef with one leg," she says, leaning on the wall and crossing her arms. "Besides, he likes you more than he likes me and I'm allowed to use the door."

 

"Yeah well, I've never broken up with *my* Vinsmoke," Zoro says, but then he feels that maybe it was a bit cold, so he adds "no offense."

 

"It's fine, it is what it is" Tashigi says, now seeming a little sad.

 

Zoro knows why Tashigi broke up with Reiju a couple times in the past. Reiju and Sanji are pretty close, and naturally, Sanji tells him everything. He doesn't wanna get too involved in other people's bussiness, but at least he can offer some advice.

 

"Hey, so...I don't know much about your relationship but...I often think I don't deserve him either, you know?"

 

Zoro tells her, carefully.

 

Tashigi looks at him, she seems to be paying real attention now.

 

He continues "and that's ok, it's ok to feel unworthy sometimes, but just...try to trust that she thinks you actually are, that you do deserve her and trust her judgement. It's her decision to be with you, to choose you, you know?"

 

A few seconds pass, Zoro starts fidgeting with the fabric of his yellow robe.

 

"Huh...and here I thought Blondie chose you only because of your boobs" Tashigi says, now fully on her feet, with her hands on her hips. She smiles. Zoro mirrors the smile.

 

"Thank you, Zoro" she says and bumps his shoulder softly with her fist.

 

"You're welcome" he says and does the same to her.

 

Just when they finish talking, the door to the bathroom opens.

A VERY tall guy with purple hair comes out wearing a red robe. He stands in the middle of Zoro and Tashigi, looks between them and says “all yours” as he walks away.

The other two stare at each other surprised.

“…was that Charlotte Katakuri?” Tashigi whispers as she looks at the red robe dissappear in the hallway.

“I can’t believe it” Zoro says, finally closing his mouth. “Did he not completely hate Ichiji?” he adds, whispering as well.

“Right, cause two people can’t hate each other but also want to fuck” says Tashigi and gives Zoro a pointed look.

“…ok, I get it” he answers and looks around a bit embarrassed.

“They are way more controversial than you two though, both captains of rival teams” she half whispers as she gets a bit closer.

“The Charlottes are gonna hate us even more” says Zoro.

“Us?”

“Well, yeah, we’re part of the Vinsmoke clan, aren’t we?” Zoro asks with a frown.

“I guess, yeah, I never thought about it before”

A moment passes.

“Hey, look at us gossiping” Zoro laughs. “Guess now I have a friend in this house” he adds as he opens the bathroom door.

“Hey ‘friend’, why do YOU get to go-“ but the door is closed to her face.

The end.

[lorilane33]

Cold

Pairing: Modern AU!Wrecker x Reader (I tried to make this as gender neutral as possible)

A/N: Wrecker is the cutest patootie ever, but at the same time I want him to absolutely shred me to pieces any day of the week. No y/n used, reader's nickname is Bunny, Bun for short.

Summary: You get cold and steal Wrecker's hoodie

Word Count: 2,192

Warnings: Yes, I am back with another friends to lovers fic okay? lol Wrecker needs his own warning label, let's be honest.

In the apartment you share with your long time friend Wrecker, you are mindlessly watching some baking contest show on Netflix. Snuggled under some blankets you try to warm up after your day of shopping with Hera, however, no matter how deep you snuggle into the couch you are still chilled to the bone. 

Grumbling to yourself, you continue to try and warm up, which ends with you having the blanket over your head hood style. But still no warmer than you were at the beginning of this struggle. You’ve completely lost track of what is going on in the episode you are watching. Suddenly you grin to yourself as an idea hits you.

Wrecker is out with Tech and Echo, helping Tech find an anniversary gift for Phee. You know he won’t be back for some time, and you are pretty sure he won’t mind if you borrow a hoodie from his closet. You quickly jump up to go raid his closet, only to stumble over the blanket currently wrapped around you. Giggling at the absurdity, you find the remote and pause your show to  continue on your mission to find your favorite hoodie of your roommate’s. 

Down the small hallway, you quietly enter his room. Glancing around the bedroom, you smile to yourself as you remember how things even started for you. The two of you moved in together in the first place because random roommates always turned out badly for each of you. 

Once the two of you had moved in together, the rest was history; you meshed so well as roommates neither of you had any plans to move out any time soon. Brought back to the present, you begin your search for his warmest hoodie. 

Within a few moments of digging in Wrecker’s closet, your hand makes contact with the hoodie you are looking for. “Aha! There you are, you little bugger!” You exclaim as you pull it off the hanger. Pulling the soft hoodie close to your body, you bring it to your nose and inhale contentedly, smiling to yourself as you do. 

Suddenly you gasp to yourself, realizing that you’re currently being comforted by Wrecker’s scent. You quickly pull his hoodie away from your face while trying to ignore your minor bout of insanity. “Why am I like this?” you mutter to yourself as you gently shake your head while pulling the hoodie over your head. 

The moment your head is through the hole, you sigh in relief. With Wrecker being almost a foot taller than you, his hoodie almost swallows you whole. The inside of his hoodie is so luxuriously soft, you find yourself snuggling deeper in to be as cozy as possible. Pulling the hood over your head, you turn and walk out of his closet, closing the door behind you. 

Reaching your shared living room, you curl back up on the couch, snuggling back into the blankets. Digging for the remote once again you hit play, and are soon lost in a whirlwind of baking and drama once again. 

Some time later, as the sun begins its descent, you hear keys in the door, announcing Wrecker’s arrival back home. Turning the volume down on the TV, you call back, “Hey, Wreck! How did the gift shopping go with the boys?” 

Wrecker toes off his shoes in the foyer and takes off his coat, followed by his infectious laughter, as you hear him emptying his pockets into the dish on the entry table. “Hey! You wouldn’t believe what happened to Echo! We were at that pho restaurant we all like, you remember that place?” 

“Yeah, I do remember it! Wasn't that place in the strip mall over on Harrison?” You reply as you giggle. You’ve always enjoyed Wrecker’s boisterous personality. He couldn’t always control his personality’s intensity, but you’ve always adored that about him. 

You listen to him padding into the living room as he continues. “Well anyway, we were talking to the waitress, and-” he stops mid-sentence, which is extremely unusual for your friend. You know he’s in the room, you can feel his presence behind you, and the tension filling his body. 

You pull your hands into the sleeves of his hoodie in a nervous gesture, as you throw over your shoulder to him, “You have any plan on finishing your story, Wrecker?” You add a small giggle after, hoping to pull Wrecker out of whatever trance he’s fallen into. 

In the silence of your apartment you hear him swallow thickly and lean against the doorway before saying hesitantly, “That’s my hoodie there, bun.”

Still sitting on the couch with your back facing him, your back suddenly goes ramrod straight. Is he mad that you’re wearing his hoodie? You’ve never heard him use that tone of voice, which makes you nervous. Trying to play it off as cool as possible, you decide to go for witty. “Oh? Really, I had no idea whose hoodie it was when I grabbed it.” 

Wrecker lets out a deep chuckle, almost a purr at your response to his statement. “Didn’t know whose hoodie it was, my ass. Never thought I’d see the day when my supposed best friend would betray me like this.” You can hear the smirk in his tone from the doorway, where he’s still against the doorway.

Rolling your eyes fondly, you decide to turn around and call him out. But the second you’ve turned around on the couch, pulling the hood down as you do, you realize you’re out of your depth. In the years the two of you have been friends, Wrecker has never had the look on his face that is gracing his features now. 

You are very uncertain how this is going to play out, and you feel your stomach clench with nerves. As you study Wrecker’s face, you not only realize his expression screams intensity, but you also clock what he’s wearing. Your eyes rove over him, taking in his dark, well fitting jeans and his dark green Henley shirt. 

It is the exact outfit he’d been wearing when he left earlier today, but for some reason completely new to you now. Suddenly catching yourself checking out your friend, your eyes go wide and you immediately return your eyes to his face. Still unsure of what could be going through his head, you hope for the best and smile at him shyly. 

Attempting to dispel the tension between you two, you respond to his quip. “Betrayed? I think betrayal is the last thing I think you should be feeling right now. I think I make this hoodie look better than you ever could!” 

Seeing Wrecker’s eyes quickly dart to your mouth and back, you feel a shiver run down your spine. He growls out a response as he rolls up  his shirt sleeves, “You got that right, bun. In fact, I think you should keep it. It looks perfect on you.”

Your eyes widen and your jaw drops in shock. “Wrecker, what do you mean? This is your favorite hoodie. Why would you say I could have it?”

Finally leaving his perch in the doorway, he slowly makes his way around to the front of the couch. Still studying you intensely, he replies with, “Exactly what I just said. You look perfect in my hoodie.” 

Sitting down next to you and grabbing your legs to pull them into his lap he continues, “Why am I telling you to keep it? Because I want you to. It’s as easy as that.” He smiles at you, gently rubbing your ankle. 

Still trying to process what is happening, you look down to your lap and play with your fingers. You reply, “Okay. I guess I’ll take that answer. But Wrecker, can you do me a favor?” He nods in response, waiting for you to continue. “Please stop looking at me like that. I’m not sure why you’re doing it, but it’s making me feel things I didn’t know I was feeling about you. And I’m not entirely sure how-” 

Suddenly his index finger is stopping you mid rant. He then moves his finger to dip under your chin and gently tilts your face up to meet his, a hesitant smile quirking on his face. “The way I’m looking at you? Bunny, I have no idea how to look at you right now. I walked into our home, expecting to find my best friend, and instead I was blindsided by how kriffing stunning I apparently find you.” 

Your lower lip begins to wobble, and your eyes get glassy as he continues. “You sitting here in my hoodie moved something in my soul, sweetheart. I am not the same man now as I was when I left this morning, and I never want to go back.” He tips your head forward enough so he can place a kiss on your forehead. 

Needing confirmation, you clear your throat and ask, “Wreck, are you saying you like me like me?” 

He smiles shyly, “Yeah, bunny, I am. Somehow, you managed to make it happen.” Suddenly, his eyes widen, and he begins pulling away from you. “Oh, kriff! Bun, I didn’t mean to dump all that on you. I just felt I needed to tell you. Here I am, just assuming that you felt-”

You cut him off from spiraling by throwing your arms around his neck, and pulling yourself into his lap and straddle his thighs. “Stop that, right now, Wrecker. You have no reason to doubt anything, because I do feel the same way. I’m not sure when it happened, but it did.” You giggle into his shoulder as you feel the tension seep out of him at your words. 

You pull back from squeezing him, and gently cup his right  cheek in your hand. He leans into the motion, and you both smile. “Oh, Wrecker, you silly man. Who wouldn’t love this handsome mug of yours?” You feel his deep chuckle rumble through you,and his hands come up to rest on your hips. 

Leaning forward, you gently placed a hand on his scarred cheek, continuing on. “And this scar, and your cybernetic eye? They are two of my favorite parts of you. You were willing to sacrifice yourself for your brothers, and the maker decided you weren’t done. I’m so proud of the man you are, Wreck. You have no idea how proud.” He lets out a shaky exhale under you, gripping your hips and pulling you closer to him. 

Wrecker licks his lips, your eyes zeroing in on the motion. “Okay, bun. I really love all the niceties of the moment, but I have one last question.” 

Quickly nodding your head in response, you reply, “Of  course, Wrecker. Anything.” 

You feel his hands rove up from your hips, up your back and around to cup your cheeks. “I am dying to kiss you.” Looking at him, his eyes are glued to your lips, face blatantly displaying his want.

Giggling, you roll your eyes and go to reprimand him. “I don’t think that counts as a ques-” 

Words are lost on you as Wrecker places his lips on yours for the first time. His lips are soft, and shy at first. You eagerly kiss back, taking him by surprise. He chuckles into the kiss at that. 

You drop your hands to his chest, lightly gripping his shirt in your hand. Gentle pecks and whispered words of love between new lovers eventually become more urgent. One of his hands drops to your waist, pulling you closer into his embrace. You feel his tongue gently swipe across your bottom lip, asking permission and you moan in response.

Suddenly Wrecker’s invading your mouth, making you question why you’d ever waited this long to be with him. When you decide to nibble his bottom lip, he groans in response, his hand on your waist dropping to your ass, firmly gripping it and pressing you even harder into him. 

Before things escalate, the two of you naturally slow things down. Still swapping kisses and sweet words, the two of you know this is as far as it needs to go. Things are still new, and you just want to enjoy each other’s presence. Wrecker finally pulls away, pressing another kiss to your forehead. 

Suddenly you’re being manhandled in Wrecker’s lap as he pulls one of your legs out  from behind him, and gently curls you up in his lap bridal style. Running one of his fingers mindlessly up and down your leg, he suddenly stops. “Hey, bunny?” 

You mumble a response in the affirmative to him, being too cozy to dare and form words

He chuckles at the state of you, and gently squeezes you closer to him. “Why did you suddenly decide my hoodie was good enough to dig through my closet for anyway? Not that I mind at all.”

You inhale and respond sleepily, “Cold. I was really kriffing cold.”

Wrecker’s laughter could be felt throughout your body, and heard throughout the house at that answer. Even though you hadn’t planned on this outcome happening when you took his hoodie, you wouldn't have it any other way.

[sydneytheforestqueer]

Greetings Tumblr!! One of my pookies said I should post this here so I am! I was going to write a Desert Duo hunger games fic but I didn't feel like writing out the whole thing so have this snippet that I wrote up earlier!!

The canon sounded and Scar stared up at Grian. The peacekeepers son had become much more ruthless throughout the course of the games than Scar had ever seen him before, but thats what a need of survival does to you, right? Grian still stood over the body of Bdubs, sword in hand as he turned twords Scar, who had essentially turned on him a moment before.

Scar was never going to truly kill Grian, he was just hoping to get Grian mad enough to kill him. They had been by each other since the very beginning, growing up together, learning the ways of this awful world. Even when Grian moved districts, Scar always remembered his best friend. Here they were, standing face to face with Grian yelling that he was a traitor.

He stared at the boy in front of him, the one he had been trying to keep going this entire time and scar dropped his sword. He knelt on the ground in front of Grian.

“You can kill me. For everything you did to me to keep me alive this long, you may slay me and claim victory.”

The boy gave Grian a sad smile. He preferred to die by Grians hand with the knowledge that his flower was safe than to have died earlier with so many adversaries against them.

Grian stared at Scar, saying that he couldn’t do it, he couldn’t kill Scar. They both knew that the Gamemakers would only allow one champion, so they decided to fight, bare fits, no weapons. They had made their way back to the makeshift grave that they had made for Pizza, the mutt they managed to wrangle into submission earlier in the games. Likely something that upset the gamemakers, it was a small act of rebellion that had been wonderful while it lasted.

The farmhand and the peacekeepers son stood across from each other in a makeshift circle of cacti next to the grave of their pet. Grian said that whatever happened, they could count this as a double win… but scar knew what would happen. He would make sure that Grian made it out. He cared too much for him to let him lose.

The two counted down before Grian charged at Scar. Sure, Scar was strong but Grian had always been faster. Scar knew he had to fight back or Grian wouldn’t actually kill him, but he couldn’t keep up with him anyways. It hurt, everything hurt. He was in pain from the hits yet they kept coming till he was bloodied and broken on the ground, staring up at Grian as he sobbed out apologies. Grian looked beautiful, even with the blood and grime staining his features from the past week of ruthless conditions.

He was like an angel of death, coming to take the suffering from Scar. Scar gave a weak laugh as he looked up at his pesky bird. He wanted so badly to hug him and comfort him like he always did but Scars body and mind felt numb. Despite the fact he was dying, he was happy. Grian won, he would get to go home. Scar was happy to sacrifice himself for Grian. He cared about him more than anything else. He just wished he had the courage to tell him before this moment.

As Scars thoughts started slipping into eternal darkness he was able to make out a few weak words. He simply needed to tell Grian that he loved him… and then he let the darkness take him. At least the last sight he saw was the beautiful face of his Sun. He was Icarus, he had gotten too close and now he was burnt up, diving into the cool darkness of eternal sleep.

The canon sounded across the arena as Scars heart stopped.

Okay so yea that's the scene lol- I have another post somewhere with some things about this AU but I'll put some basic info here

Grian and Scar are from district 10 but Grians dad is a peacekeeper and was able to move them to district 3 a few years before both g and scar end up in the games.

Grian got the nickname pesky bird from farmers in D 10 cause he tended to climb around in barn rafters and sing songs in his free time.

Grian had his dad and his mom (whos an engineer) and then scar had just his mom. After scar dies grian also dies (like in third life) out of spite so that the game makers wouldn't have a winner.

Pizza was one of the mutts put into the arena to make the tributes have to fight in order to get food. The llamas had supplies but would brutally attack the tributes, grian and scar were able to wrangle pizza and get a makeshift muzzle on him with their experience from being raised in district 10Also this all takes place during the 25th hunger games where all the tributes were voted on. Scar basically told everyone to vote him cause he didn't want anyone else to deal with the games, grian was voted because people hated that he's a kid of a peacekeeper and no one really had much care for him.

Feel free to ask questions if anyone wants to know anything more!! I did start writing this from before the games and then gave up but I'm willing to give information to the community and let you guys come up with your own ideas and such. >:D

Also have the playlist I made a while ago.

(Thanks @c4-oliver for convincing me to post this here lol)

[demaparbat-hp]

Almost

[rip-headphones-users]

You could just leave this here, happy and satisfied as is…

…But thats not how things get to end, right?

Maybe one day they can be happy together. But not like this. Not when Infected can barely remember who he’s with, and not when Lampert is so scared of contracting the parasite himself.

One of these days I’ll do a full summary of how I interpret their dynamic. Both as friends and as a ship. I see them as having a queer-platonic relationship for the most part though.

[hethinkslikeaking]

"omg homophobia :( the lesbian ship i want to kiss didn't kiss in an episode that was obviously going to be the backstory of another main character :( hes EXPLICITLY gay in a MARVEL DISNEY+ show and kisses his boyfriend but its still so homophobic :( the episode wasn't straight out of my headcannon so i hate it :("

do you know how dumb u sound rn

[fear-no-mort]

i cant get over the whole time in the real world rick just sat there watching over morty and when he woke up finally rick sounded SO happy the way he just yelled his name excitedly the second he woke up,,,

[tblsomedoodles]

Donnie's Visions (apocalypse Seer Twins comic) Part 5 (complete!)

Start - Previous

I should wait until tomorrow to post this so i can make sure i didn't miss anything. But i don't particularly want to wait. It's the last part and i just really want this to be fully complete (post and all.)

anyways, i hope you enjoyed this comic! I am very glad to get to check one thing off my to-do list.

[hellsite-hall-of-fame]

umm so fun thing- an anon was mean again, but this one affected me more than normal for some reason, sooo I shall post less ✨personality✨ here bc pain, soooo pls follow @the-curators-bullshit for hhof personality. thank you and goodnight lol

[bookishjules]

Hi hi!!!! I saw your sizzy HCs and I would love it if you did TMI gang HCs for the future when they have kids and all💗 How do they all interact with their kids/each other’s kids? That ask about Jace’s kids made me laugh I feel like his kids would have a jar for him to put money in whenever he’s too cocky, kinda like New Girl with Schmidt

simon and izzy are the go-to babysitter couple of the bunch for sure, given that they aren't running an institute or, you know, the entire clave. they're also the most likely to have a movie or game night, which the kids absolutely love

because the cousins span over a decade in ages, there seems to always be a baby to hold, and clary is always the first one to reach for them (followed by alec)

jace is stricter as a father than might be expected. not in a harsh way, but in a protective way. in a 'i want you to learn how best protect yourself and your family' way. he's definitely a teacher, in a very physical way, and loves spending time in the training room with his kids and niblings (not that this makes him any more mature or less ridiculous at his core hehe)

creativity and expression are very well supported by all members of the tmi gang, and their children develop a good amount of confidence when it comes to being themselves and not necessarily folding into shadowhunter (or warlock) norms

magnus loves taking the kids on adventures and showing them things they might never have gotten to see if they didn't have a very powerful warlock for an uncle, but he is also very protective, moreso than some of the other parents. he's seen too many people die to knowingly bear witness to human/shadowhunter recklessness in these kids he cares so much for

alec is the first one to suggest they let rafe go out on patrol, not without alec ofc. that first patrol is a fun one. jace is there too. he's muchhh less strict with his niblings than he is with his own kids, and he tends to treat them much more like how he treats kit. hence the fun hehe rafe has a blast, and the whole time alec's anxiety is through the roof.

all the cousins are scared of izzy's cooking. even if she's gotten better as the years have gone on, their parents have ingrained in them too much fear for the food she makes not to be wary when she holds out a wooden spoon with a questionable substance on it. usually the kids ask for pizza. or a delivery of chinese food (like parents like kids hehe)

[blaithnne]

If I may, how do you typically approach choosing colors in your art? It always has just a lovely feel to it, so I was a bit curious; don't feel pressured to answer ofc :]

I’ve been using a lot of gradient maps lately, they work by switching the greys in your piece with a corresponding colour according to its value. Basically, I colour in black and white, grab a gradient map, and then I adjust the colours by hand until I’m happy with it. This isn’t the only kind of colouring I do, but it works great if you’re in a rush or you’re struggling to find a good starting point for your colours. I’ve been operating under a time crunch for these Sketchbook Week drawings and the Plenism promo stuff I made, so for all except one I used gradient maps. I’m actually in a bit of a funk with my colours right now soooo I’ll come back and do a proper colouring tutorial for my style once I’m happier with how my non gradient mapped colours are looking !