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writingforstraykids · 3 days ago

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Step by Step

Pairing: Minho x 9th member gn!Reader

Word Count: 2181

Summary: Minho's whole purpose is based on his dancing ability. When an injury slows him down he draws back from everyone until Chan sends you his way to get him back.

Warnings/Tags: 9th member fic, angst, fluff, self doubt

do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©️writingforstraykids 2024 -

Minho was born to dance.

From the moment he first stepped into a studio, it became his second home, the rhythm of music entwined with the rhythm of his heartbeat. Every movement was precise, every routine a masterpiece, crafted with the kind of dedication that only came from true love for the art. And for as long as you had known him, that fire had burned unshakable.

Until the accident.

It happened in an instant, a moment so brief yet devastatingly permanent. One mistimed landing, one sharp cry of pain, and suddenly, the invincible Lee Minho was reduced to someone broken. The doctors assured him he would recover, but the damage had already been done-not just to his body, but to something far more fragile: his confidence.

Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and though his body healed, his soul remained fractured. He refused to return to the studio, refused to do so much as talk about dancing, leaving Hyunjin and Felix to figure out your newest moves by themselves. He stayed away from the studio, not really seeing the use in recording new songs when he wouldn't be able to perform them on stage - which drove first Changbin and then Jisung crazy, whilst Chan worried too much for his own good. And what was even worse - he pushed everyone away. Even you. You, his fellow dancer who had always admired him the most.

But you weren’t about to let him go so easily. Not when your maknae had asked you to check on Min, not when Chan had told you, you were their last hope.

Knocking on Minho’s door has become part of your routine. Every day you found yourself in front of that wooden door, knocking firmly against it.

It always ended the same way. A muffled "go away," sometimes accompanied by the sound of his cats padding across the room, as if they alone were allowed to witness his pain. But today, you didn’t walk away. You could tell the others were beyond worried and you've had enough.

“I know you’re in there,” you said, arms crossed as you leaned against the frame. “You can’t ignore me forever, you know.”

Silence.

You exhaled sharply. "Lee Minho, I swear—"

The door finally cracked open. Just a sliver, enough for his sharp brown eyes to glare at you. His hair was a little messy, and there was an exhaustion about him that had nothing to do with sleep.“What do you want?” he muttered.

You ignored the irritation in his voice. “To see you. To talk to you.”

His grip on the door tightened. “There’s nothing to talk about. You've seen me now.”

“Minho, you—”

“I said there’s nothing to talk about.” His voice was hard now, like stone, cold and unyielding. “Just leave me alone.”

He started closing the door, but you pushed against it before he could. “No.”

That made him pause. “No?”

“No,” you repeated stubbornly. “I’m not going to leave you alone just because you decided to shut yourself off from the world.”

His jaw clenched. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.” Your voice softened, the anger ebbing away into something closer to sadness. “Minho, I know you. You’re not okay. And pretending you don’t care doesn’t make it any less true.”

His gaze flickered. For the briefest moment, something in his expression cracked - but just as quickly, he rebuilt his walls. “I don’t need your pity,” he muttered.

“I’m not here because I pity you,” you shot back. “I’m here because I care.” The words hung in the air between you, heavy and unspoken for far too long.

Minho looked away first. “I don’t need anyone.”

You sighed. “You can keep saying that, but it won’t make it true.”

Silence stretched again. He was staring at the floor now, his fingers curling into fists. When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter. “I can’t dance anymore.”

Your heart clenched at the defeat in his voice and you shook your head. “Yes, you can.”

“No,” he said, sharper this time. “I can’t. I’ve tried, and it’s not the same. My body - it doesn’t move the way it used to. I’m slower, weaker. I mess up things that were second nature before. It’s gone.”

Your chest tightened. You had seen him try - alone in the practice room when he thought no one was watching. The frustration, the way he’d stumble and curse under his breath, the way he’d leave without looking back. You took a step closer. “Minho-”

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” He turned away, gripping the door as if he wanted to slam it shut again.

But you weren’t done. “Minho.” Something in your voice must have made him pause. “You don’t have to be perfect right now,” you said softly. “You just have to try.”

For a long moment, he didn’t move. Then, with a sigh, he muttered, “You’re exhausting.”

A small smile tugged at your lips, knowing you won. “I know.” And this time, when he closed the door, it wasn’t all the way.

The next day, you found Minho sitting in the practice room. Not dancing. Just sitting - back against the mirrors, legs stretched out, watching his reflection like he didn’t recognize the person staring back.

You sat down next to him without a word. For a while, neither of you spoke. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, just heavy. Finally, you broke it.

“You know,” you said, hugging your knees, “when I first joined the group, I thought you hated me.”

Minho blinked, caught off guard. “…What?”

You smiled faintly. “You were so intimidating. Always so serious, so good at everything. I was scared to mess up in front of you.”

Minho scoffed. “You? Scared? Yeah, right.”

“I mean it,” you admitted. “But then I realized something - you weren’t actually scary. You were just focused. Because you cared that much.”

He exhaled, looking away. “Doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Yes, it does.” You turned to him fully. “Minho, dancing is you. It’s in your blood, in your bones. An injury doesn’t change that.”

His jaw clenched and he shook his head firmly. “You don’t get it.”

“Then make me get it,” you pleaded with him. “Make me understand what's keeping you from your passion.”

His hands curled into fists. “What if I’m never as good as before?” The raw honesty in his voice nearly broke you.

“What if you’re better?” you countered and Minho froze. You reached out, your fingers brushing his lightly. “You’re not starting over, Minho. You’re growing. And yeah, it’s going to be hard, and it’s going to hurt. But you’re still you.”

For a long moment, he just looked at you. And then, almost imperceptibly, he nodded. It wasn’t a promise but it was a start.

The next time you found Minho in the studio, he was standing. Not dancing. Not stretching. Just standing like a soldier preparing for battle, shoulders stiff, fists clenched.

You watched from the doorway, waiting. If you pushed too hard, he’d shut down again.

Slowly, he raised a foot, testing his balance. Then he tried a step - hesitant, uncertain. Another. And another. But the moment he attempted a turn, his body faltered. He caught himself before he could fall, but you saw it. The frustration. The fear.

Before he could storm out, you stepped forward. “It’s okay.”

Minho flinched, shoulders tensing. “Go away.”

“No, Min,” you told him firmly and gently cupped his face.

Minho's eyes grew wide as he swallowed softly, the warmth of your hands oddly calming. He exhaled sharply. “Why do you keep-”

“Because you’re worth it,” you said firmly, thumbs drawing a small pattern against his skin. “Because I know you. And because I refuse to watch you give up on yourself.”

He stared at you, something in his gaze unreadable. Then, finally - finally- he lowered his gaze to the floor and whispered, “I don’t know how to do this.”

Your chest tightened. “You don’t have to do it alone, Min. We can work on this together.”

For a moment, he hesitated. And then, without another word, he let you wrap him into a firm hug, enjoying your soothing presence for a moment.

The days passed in a rhythm of their own. Some were good. On those days, Minho moved with a shadow of his old self, the precision of his steps slowly returning. You saw glimpses of the dancer he had once been - the fire, the grace, the intensity.

But some days were bad.

On those days, he couldn’t even make it through a routine without stopping, his frustration boiling over. He lashed out - not at you, but at himself. And then one day, everything snapped.

It was late, the studio dimly lit. You had been practicing together for hours, working through a routine, when Minho’s footwork slipped on a turn. It wasn’t a bad fall, but it was enough. Enough for his patience to shatter.

“Damn it!” The sound of his voice - raw, broken - echoed through the room. Before you could react, he slammed his fist against the mirror. Not hard enough to break it, but enough to send a painful thud through the air. “I can’t do this,” he growled out, voice shaking. “It’s not working. I’m-” His breath hitched. “I’m not me anymore, I'm fucking broken.”

Your heart clenched as you hesitantly took a step forward. “Minho-”

But he wasn’t listening. He pressed a hand to his forehead, eyes squeezed shut, chest heaving with the weight of something far deeper than just dance. And then, so quietly you almost didn’t hear - “I don’t deserve this.”

Your breath caught. “Deserve what?” you whispered.

He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Anything. The group. The stage. You. I was already expendable before,” he said, voice hollow. “Now? I don’t even belong here.”

Something in you snapped, eyes burning fiercely. “Don’t you dare say that.” Minho looked up, startled. “You think you don’t belong?” you demanded. “You think we wouldn’t be less without you? Minho, you’re the main dancer of this team. You always have been. You're our friend..And nothing can change that.” His lips parted slightly, but he didn’t speak. You swallowed hard. “You don’t have to be perfect. You just have to be you. And that’s enough.”

Minho exhaled, something crumbling in his expression. “I don’t know if I can do this,” he admitted, so quiet it was almost a plea.

You reached for his hand. “Then let me believe for you until you can.”

For a long moment, he didn’t move. But then - slowly - his fingers curled around yours. And for the first time, he truly didn’t push you away.

Things changed after that night. Minho still struggled, but he let you see it now. He let himself lean on you, even if only a little. And somewhere along the way, between long hours in the studio and late-night conversations, you realized.

The pain he carried wasn’t just from the injury. It was older. Deeper.

One evening, as you sat side by side in the practice room, Minho finally spoke the words you never expected. “I was ten the first time someone told me I wasn’t good enough.” You turned to him, heart pounding. “My teacher,” he continued, voice eerily calm. “She said I had talent but not drive. That I’d never make it unless I proved I deserve it.” He let out a breath. “She wasn’t wrong.”

You stared at him in disbelief. “Minho, you can't be serious.”

“I’ve spent my whole life proving I belong here,” he murmured. “And now? Now, I don’t even know who I am without dance.”

Your chest ached. “You’re our Minnie,” you whispered. “That’s enough.”

He looked at you then - really looked at you. And for the first time, you saw something fragile beneath the confidence he always wore like armor. Something scared. Something hopeful. And that was when you knew he was healing. Maybe not all at once. Maybe not even soon.

But he would.

The day of the showcase arrived faster than either of you expected. Minho hadn’t performed in months. This wasn’t an official stage - just a small even for fans. But it was the first step. And he was terrified.

You found him backstage, pacing. “You okay?” you asked gently.

He exhaled sharply, his hands trembling slightly as he looked at you. “No.”

You smiled fondly and nodded gently. “Good. That means it matters.”

He scoffed. “You and your stupid optimism.”

You took his hands, feeling the soft tremor in them and squeezed them. “Minho, you can do this.” He hesitated. “You don’t have to be perfect,” you reminded him. “Just dance. I'll be right there with you.”

Minho swallowed harshly. Then, slowly, he nodded. When you two stepped onto the stage, the music began.

And when he moved - hesitant at first, then stronger - something changed. The fire returned. Not the same as before, but something new.

And as you caught the beaming faces of the others at the side of your stage, you realized that Minho was back on track.

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masterdreamweaver · 5 hours ago

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i have further commentary about this that i put into the tags at first but i think it should be part of the main post so it doesn't get lost in further reblogs;

#like hey with all due respect. you are conflating a good handful of things (i don't think i said this part right but that's not the point)

checking tumblr on the phone when you're in the bathroom is a habit. combing your fingers through your hair when you're nervous is a habit.

saying "i can't form habits, the habit forming part of my brain is broken" is. in and of itself. a habit.

hello. i have been professionally diagnosed with adhd twice. it is so much easier now that i am medicated about it. yes. but also quite literally. op is Right.

#i have a life threatening disability that will genuinely kill me if i forget to take my medication #i forget to take my medication a lot. i know this.

#outsource your habits. outsource your motivation. set timers. set reminders. #give yourself a gold star sticker. ask your friends to tell you that they're proud of you. #there are things that make it easier and you are. not entirely wrong. but you're being a negative nancy about it.

#i don't know if i do fully believe you when you say that you've broken your tasks down to the smallest step either

#like my steps for medication are #get food. count carbs. do math. do shot. #that's not small enough. #do shot-- that's so simple and easy. right

no. i have to: - grab my insulin case. - open it. - take syringe out. - take alcohol swab out. - take vial out. - open alcohol swab. - swab top of vial so it's clean. - take backstop cap off syringe. - take front cap off syringe. - purge empty air from syringe. - draw in air. - stick needle in vial. - inject air into vial. - flip vial and syringe upside down. - draw out insulin into syringe. - inject back into vial to get rid of air bubbles. - repeat if necessary. - draw out correct dosage. - take vial off of syringe. - hit syringe with vial in case there's any air bubbles left in there - set syringe down. - expose flesh. (i usually do my shots in my stomach so this is usually as simple as "lean back in chair. lift up shirt." but it's more complicated if you're in public or wearing something more complicated than pajamas etc) - pick up alcohol swab again. - wipe flesh clean with alcohol swab. - set down alcohol swab. - pick up syringe again with one hand. - pinch flesh with the other hand. - place needle against skin. - push needle into flesh until it's fully in there. - inject insulin into flesh. - hit the stopper with my thumb a bit to make sure i get every unit. - remove syringe from flesh slow and careful. - set it down. - pick up alcohol swab. - wipe flesh clean with alcohol swab a second time. - set alcohol swab down. - pick up syringe and syringe caps again. - put both caps back on the syringe. - put syringe in sharps container. - put alcohol swab in trash. - put vial back into medkit. - put medkit back into its place (on my desk i have an organizer with all my shit so it's in reach every second)

and even all THAT. that can be broken down FURTHER. anything can be made simpler and less complicated and easier.

there's a post i need to find which is genuinely about this; "go get a glass of water" for someone without problems might have to be broken all the way down into "stand up walk to door open door go out of door close door walk to stairs walk down stairs walk to kitchen walk to cabinet open cabinet grab cup take cup out of cabinet walk to sink hold cup under faucet turn on sink turn off sink move cup to mouth drink water"

but it's. yeah. you should have made that your own post instead of venting on some genuinely well-meaning and helpful advice

here's some more unsolicited adult advice as someone in her 30s who knows there are a lot of twenty somethings and teens that follow her: if you're trying to build a new habit you really want, and are struggling, you have to break it down to the smallest building block possible. If you're failing, you haven't thought small enough. I know it's possible to hear stories of people who just snapped into new life mode one day by "just deciding", but truly what's happening there is a confluence of events and experiences that force the brain into some sort of epiphany. You cannot will an epiphany. It'll never work. For most times of your life, you will need to build habits intentionally, and that means not working against yourself and to set micro goals. like laughably tiny goals. because once that easy tiny goal is met, you can build off it, tiny goal after tiny goal until you reach your big goal.

so for example, if you want to be a morning person that gets up at ass crack dawn so that you can work out, eat brekkie, shower, and get to work at a leisurely pace, and you're not that person because you will hit your snooze button 800 times, you have to get the big picture goal out of your head. think smaller. "I want to get up 15 minutes earlier than I normally do." If you can't do that, make it 5 minutes. "I want to cook breakfast every day" hell no too big. "I want to eat something, anything, before I leave the house" hell yeah, fantastic. When you go to the grocery store to make sure there are things in the house for breakfast, if you keep buying bagels and microwave sandwiches that you ignore, you gotta think smaller. SMALLER. What's something so easy to eat that you'll never say no to. Is it a yogurt? Is it a handful of grapes? Is it a hostess ho ho? is it hot cheetos? FORGET the big picture of the fantasy put-together woman preparing a full nutritious meal that you'd be proud to admit to. Think only of the smallest goal you can achieve. If you know you can't say no to an ice cream sandwich, put a ton of ice cream sandwiches in your freezer and have one for breakfast every day until it's so instilled in you that you gotta get up to eat something you can start diversifying.

It sounds like, from the lack of habit place, that must take forever. But really it doesn't take too long to form the habit once the discipline kicks in. the trick is that you have to give your brain something easy to become disciplined to. If it's too hard, think easier and smaller. No one has to know. Literally no one in the gd world has to know that for 4 weeks when you were 22 you had an ice cream sandwich for breakfast every day. who cares. If it gets you eating oatmeal with fresh fruit in a few months who cares. you did it, yay. smaller, easier. if you can't do it, think smaller and easier. smaller!! EASIER!!! You are not thinking smaller and easier enough. break your brain thinking how small and easy you can go. SMALLER. EVEN SMALLER, SIS.

#i can format that to make it more readable later.#but hello. needle's fucking pissed (kirby image) .

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fraternum-momentum · 15 hours ago

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yayyy tomorrow is valentine's day and I wanted to do something cute so I'm doing thiss

all you need to do is send me an ask with a ref of your character and the name of whichever character of mine you would like to make out with sloppy style and i'll draw them on stream tomorrow d(⌒_⌒)

important !

> i'll try do draw as much as i can ! but no promises :'] i'll choose at random, so please don't be mad if i didnt pick yours. this is purely just for fun :'''''']

> it has to be a character of mine + any character (personal oc or otherwise, and it doesnt have to be from dol either, it can even be sans from undertale LMFAO). so this means, no your oc x your oc / no your oc x canon / canon x canon / etc. bc that would just be requests at that point 😭😭 and it kind of defeats the purpose of the kissing booth thing, sorry 😭

characters allowed: all my ocs (except for Sadie and Macy bc it's a personal thing whops), any dol character I've drawn before (NPC's, Li's - both f! and m! versions, my pc Aimee), vampsona if you want ????? 😭

> you can be as specific in what you want but but no NSFW since its not allowed in the yt guidelines. suggestive is ok ! and it can be wholesome too if u want like go wild

> i will be streaming tomorrow, feb 14 on Youtube at 11 pm CEST yayy i'll try and see if i can multistream since theres some people who like twitch too (i personally like twitch better bc of ui) but yk

#is this one giant excuse to drink by myself tomorrow? yea ok maybe but at least it would be funny #all my friends r going on dates ok 😭😭😭😭 i dont have any plans so let me wallow in my misery and draw people making out 😭#AND THOSE 2 BOTTLES OF SOJU AINT GONNA DRINK THEMSELVES AMIRITE LMFQOOOOOOO #the whole smooching idea def isnt mine its inspired by some of my moots (sweetestflow3rs and wreckowafer) d(⌒_⌒)#if u have any more questions u can comment or dm or send an ask like i said this isnt anything serious i just need something to draw #while i take shots #frambling...?

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gongyoosgf · 2 days ago

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army dreamers. - a dae-ho x gn!reader fic

warnings: minors dni!! gn!reader, very short fic i’m sorry.., angst, stressed dae-ho (i will sob), smutsmutsmut, dry humping, nicknames like honey, baby, etc, thigh job, cursing, not proofread, aftercare ofc, dae-ho needs a hug omg

an: this was requested by my lovely friend @222hyunju, i hope this is what you wanted ♡

the morning air is thick with the weight of unspoken fears. dae-ho sits at the edge of the bed with his elbows resting on his knees, fingers laced together as he stares at the ground. his shoulders are tense, his breath slow but heavy, like he's carrying something too big for his chest to hold.

you watch him from behind, the sheets cool against your skin compared to the warmth of his body just moments ago. he hasn’t said much since waking up, just a sigh, a hand dragging through his long hair, his back turned to you.

you know what’s haunting him. the games never really leave. and now, even though you both survived, the fear still lingers, clawing at his ribs, making a home inside him.

you move slowly, slipping out from under the covers. you crawl toward him, pressing your chest against his bare back. your arms wind around his waist, hands splaying over his stomach as you press a soft kiss to his shoulder blade.

“talk to me,” you murmur, your lips brushing his skin.

he exhales sharply. “it’s nothing, honey, just go back to sleep.”

his voice wavers, like he’s holding something back. you know better. your hands wander, fingers tracing the lines of his abdomen, feeling the way he tenses under your touch.

“dae-ho,” you whisper, pressing another kiss, this time to the nape of his neck. “you’re lying.”

his hands, which had been clenched into fists, loosen just slightly.

you shift, pressing your lips along his shoulder, his spine, anywhere you can reach. you’re worshipping every part of him that’s been hurt, every piece of him that’s still healing.

he shudders. “you don’t have to do this.” his voice is hoarse, barely above a whisper.

“i want to.”

your fingers trail up his chest, feeling his heartbeat, too fast, too unsteady.

dae-ho exhales shakily. for a moment, he stays still, but then, his big hands cover yours, gripping them like a lifeline.

he turns in your arms, burying his face in the crook of your neck, his breathing uneven. his arms wrap around you, pulling you into his lap, holding you like he’s terrified you’ll disappear.

you let him. you let him take what he needs, let him cling to you, let him feel that you’re real. let him know that you’re not going anywhere.

“i was so scared,” he finally admits.

“i know,” you whisper, cradling his face in your hands, pressing your forehead to his. “but you don’t have to be. not anymore. not with me.”

his lips find yours then, as if trying to make sure you’re real. making sure you won’t disappear like a dream. you kiss him back just as lovingly, promising with every touch that he’s safe. that he’s loved.

the kiss deepens, slow at first, sweet, desperate. but there’s something more now, an urgency buried in the way his lips move against yours. dae-ho’s hands slip under your shirt, tracing the curve of your back.

he pulls away, breath ragged, eyes dark with that raw need you’ve been stirring in him. his lips part, chest rising and falling as his eyes flicker between your gaze and your lips. “you’re too much for me,” he mutters, his voice rough with restraint.

you smile, fingertips grazing along his jaw, trailing down to the hollow of his throat, feeling the erratic beat of his pulse beneath your touch. “it’s okay. i can handle it,” you say softly.

he kisses you again, harder this time. one of his hands slips beneath the waistband of your pants, feeling the warmth of your skin as he draws you against him. you feel the evidence of his desire pressing against you, hard and insistent.

he groans, pulling back just enough to catch his breath, his forehead resting against yours. “you’re so perfect,” he mutters, as his hands trace the curve of your body.

you kiss him again, softer this time, like you’re grounding him with your touch. when you pull away, your voice is a low whisper, “i’m not going anywhere. you can let go. let me love you.”

his body shakes, whether from desire or the weight of his fears, you’re not sure, but it doesn’t matter anymore. he’s here. he’s with you.

his lips find the pulse point of your neck, teeth grazing your skin as his hands explore, urging you closer, faster, until neither of you can keep the pace. the touch becomes frantic and he’s no longer holding back. his lips trail lower, his hands move with purpose now.

his body trembles beneath yours, but the tension from earlier is slowly melting, being replaced by a need that burns through every inch of him. his hands roam as he gasps for breath, as if he's trying to imprint the feeling of you on his skin forever.

“please,” he says, voice breaking, “i need you.”

you can feel his desperation in every movement now, every brush of skin, every gasp. and as you pull him back into a kiss, deeper this time, he surrenders completely.

his hands slip lower, fingers skimming over the curve of your hips, your thighs, just enough to tease, but not nearly enough to satisfy. you can feel the tension in his body, like he’s struggling to keep himself in check, but his touch is already possessive, pulling you closer, urging you to let him in.

you let out a soft gasp as he pushes you back onto the bed, his chest rising with every labored breath. his eyes never leave you as he spreads your legs, just wide enough to slide his hands between them, fingertips brushing the soft skin of your inner thighs.

“dae-ho…” your voice is barely a whisper, but the way your body reacts to him says everything. your thighs opening instinctively, offering him more.

he leans down, lips ghosting over the soft skin of your neck as his fingers press into your thighs, moving ever so slightly, just enough to drive you crazy. his breath is hot against your skin. “i love you so much.”

he pulls away just enough to look at you, his eyes heavy with need, lips parted, face flushed with a mixture of desire and frustration. “don’t make me beg.” his voice is raw now, as he slides his hands up your thighs, fingertips brushing dangerously close to where you want him the most.

you shudder at the closeness, biting your lip to keep from moaning as his hands slowly, deliberately, begin to spread your thighs even further apart.

“i’m not making you beg,” you breathe, voice low and teasing. “but you have to show me what you need.”

dae-ho’s chest heaves as he presses his body closer to yours. his lips are hot against your ear, his voice a low, needy groans. “i need you. i need you so badly.”

without warning, he presses his weight against your thighs, using them as leverage to keep you pinned, his hips grinding into yours, making you gasp. the friction between you both is intoxicating, his hands gripping your thighs tighter, using them to move you against him. you can feel every inch of his body against yours, the weight of his need pushing you both toward the edge.

“tell me you need me,” he demands, his breath shallow, the tension in his voice rising as he drives himself harder against you. “please say it. let me hear it.”

“i need you, dae-ho. i love and need you.”

the pressure between your thighs is almost unbearable, each movement of his hips sending shockwaves of desire through both of you. dae-ho’s hands grip your thighs tighter, pushing them further apart as his body begins to tremble with need, each shift of his hips more frantic than the last.

“i need you so much, baby,” he whines, his voice strained, like he’s fighting to keep himself from losing control completely. his lips are just barely touching yours, breath hot and ragged as his hips begin to grind against the soft curve of your thighs, the friction building with each movement.

the feeling of him against you, so desperate and needy, drives you wild. you can feel him, so painfully hard, pressing against the soft skin of your inner thighs, the tip teasing, brushing against you. his fingers dig into your skin as if he’s trying to hold himself back, but it’s impossible.

“please…” his voice cracks. “let me feel you… i can’t hold back much longer.”

without waiting for a response, his hips surge forward, grinding against the smooth skin of your thighs, the rhythm steady and intense. the friction makes you both gasp, the sensation of him against you, in between your thighs, a mix of heat and pleasure. he moves with purpose, each thrust harder, faster, as he loses himself in the sensation.

you can feel his body begin to tremble above you, his breath hitching, his hands now pulling you closer, urging you to hold him tighter, to give him more. “f—fuck, you feel so good,” he mutters, a whimper breaking his sentence.

his movements start to become erratic, the tension building in his body as he nears the edge. “i can’t…” his voice is shaky, like he’s losing control, but he doesn’t want to stop.

you moan softly, your hands running through his hair, guiding him closer, feeling his desperation as he presses harder, grinding deeper in between your thighs. the pressure is too much, his movements become frantic, the pleasure flooding him as he reaches his breaking point.

with one final groan, his hips stutter as he cums, the intensity of it pulling a ragged gasp from his chest. you feel his body go rigid against you, his release spilling between your thighs, his grip on you unrelenting as he rides out the wave of pleasure.

he collapses against you, his breathing uneven, his body trembling as he tries to catch his breath. “god… i needed that,” he mutters, his face buried in your neck, his hands still gripping your thighs like he can’t quite let go.

dae-ho’s body remains tense for a few moments, but as the last remnants of pleasure fade away, he slumps against you, his forehead resting gently on your chest. you can feel his rapid heartbeat, still racing, but slowly, slowly it begins to calm. his breathing is shallow at first, but soon it steadies, and his hands loosen their grip on your thighs, now caressing you with a gentleness that contrasts the desperation from before.

you run your fingers through his hair, smoothing it back as you press soft, reassuring kisses to the top of his head. his body shudders slightly, but this time it’s not from need, it’s from the emotional weight of everything that had built up.

“are you okay?” you ask quietly, your voice soft, trying to make sure he’s truly with you again.

dae-ho lifts his head, his eyes still glazed with the aftermath, but there’s a look of vulnerability in them now.

he nods slowly, his hands reaching for you, pulling you closer to him, curling you into his chest. “i’m... I’m good,” he mutters, his voice still a little hoarse. “i just... needed that. needed you.”

you smile softly, nuzzling your face into his neck as he wraps his arms around you, holding you close like you’re his anchor. you can feel the faint tremor in his limbs, but it’s no longer a sign of stress.

you let your hands roam over his back, tracing the lines of his muscles, offering comfort in every touch. “i’m here,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to his neck. “always.”

his fingers trail along your skin, tender now, almost as if he’s memorizing the feel of you beneath him. “i don’t deserve you,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion.

“you deserve everything,” you reply firmly, pulling back just enough to look him in the eyes, “and more.”

dae-ho closes his eyes for a moment, as if letting himself truly absorb the safety in your presence.

“i’m sorry, i just…” he trails off, clearly trying to find the right words. “it’s hard to let go sometimes.”

you nod, understanding. “i know. but you don’t have to carry it alone. not with me.”

- - - - ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

uhh taglist: @222hyunju @kouzih @cybrasigilism

#squid game #kang dae ho #squid game season 2 #squid game 2 #squid game s2 #dae ho #kang dae ho smut #dae ho smut #dae ho squid game #dae ho x reader #squid game smut #kang ha neul #player 388 #dae ho fluff #player 388 smut

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cursedcola · 23 hours ago

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Pov. : Valentines! Who doesn’t like a lil’ gift huhu Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Characters: Epel Felmeir, Idia Shroud, Azul Ashengrotto, Kalim Al Asim, Ruggie Bucchi, Deuce Spade, Leona KingScholar, Sebek Zigvolt, Liia Vanrouge, Ace Trappola, Grimmiepoo, and Malleus Draconia. Masterlist: LinkedUP A/N: I’ve always wanted to draw something with an imagine set ^^. Some are longer than others, my bad. Happy Smoocharoo day, everyone. Writings for each square are below the cut.

Pov. A Valentines Surprise :0

Mans was not expecting a present. At all. This is his first year beyond Harveston, where the most romance going on is between the squirelles in the trees. Since Valentines day is a ‘our-earth’ holiday…well, Epel definitely is a bit dense. You might mention it in passing but he won’t think much. Especially since the topic isn't re-occurring. It's definetly there in the back of his mind, but he forgets until the day of.

On the opposite spectrum - Rook clung to the idea like bees to a fresh bloom. He gave out flowers to anyone who crossed his path - all in the pursuit of spreading joy. Vil gets a giant bouquet of roses, but Epel’s happy with his little bushel of lavender sprigs.

It's kinda nice to get a gift just because - y'know? He isn't going to prepare anything since he doesn't want to lose his 'macho bravado'. Yet Pomefiore gets in the spirit hardcore, so he can't escape it.

Whether it’s obligatory, or romantic - Epel’s grateful to get a gift from you. Flattered. Dare I say puffing up just a lil’ bit, because you ain’t giving this to anyone else, right? He’s getting a bit cocky on the inside, look out.

To get a gift on a day like this one, you have to think he's cool. At least better than the others. His competitive streak comes out a wee bit.

He’d have accepted your last cup noodle as a gift (taking great effort to smuggle it in to Pomefiore without being policed. All he wants is one. Just one. ) - but the fact you went out of your way to get macarons makes him feel all sweet inside. Like honey-crisp jam and clotted cream over warm biscuits. He tries to push that feeling down but it just takes over.

Especially when Ace tries to snag one for a taste. Epel should've known better than bringing it to lunch. He let it slide since Ace couldn't come to Fleur city with them, but you bet he was guarding that box like a bloodhound.

Out of all the trouble that came from Fleur city - you remembered his preference and that’s enough to make him accept the gift without a peep. Expect a freshly baked apple pie on White Day. He’s not much for words, but Epel will pull out the best apples for it. No bruises or soft spots.

Idia.exe has crashed. Please reboot and try again.

Seriously. He opened the door expecting Ortho with his monthly snack restock - just to get ambushed! You can’t just pop into a guys safe space without warning!

Aka. Ortho indeed came back with his delivery + 1.

Knowing Idia and his tendency to self-sabotage….yeah, it’s best not to breathe a word about the holiday in advance. He’s not exactly prying for information on ‘our-earth’…well, aside from our tech and a bit on your personal lore. Everything else is on a need-to-know basis.

Considering Ortho brought back a signed card and a few extra bags of gummy worms than he ordered? Now is definitely part of the ‘need-to-know’. Sparing his crap attack by not dropping in personally just causes more anxiety - because is it obligatory? Is it romantic? Does he want it to be romantic?

Ofcoursehedoesbutthatsopeningapandorasboxthatheisntemotionallyreadytoconfront

Holy shit you got his favorite brand and - did he ever tell you that? Have you been watching him like he’s been -

Oh man. Oh man. This is way too much for something he can’t even research - and now he’s gotta get you something back, right? He knows exactly what you’d want but ew why would you want a Valentines gift from someone like him. He can get Ortho to grill you, right? Right. But it can’t be too obvious and he needs to say thank you but can he just send a text or is that lame?

Expect Ortho to drop off a gift-card for one of the systems Idia gave you back in CH.6…and a bag of candied pomegranates. Some sugar coated, some covered in dark chocolate. Definitely higher quality than anything you could afford.

You mention the holiday when discussing the opportune market back in ‘our-world’. Azul does have a nasty habit of making everything about work - even if you’re just stopping by for a spot of tea. Unheard of by any other student.

Alas. Holidays are a great chance for promotions. You’ve seen festivals and the like in Twisted Wonderland - but there are some tips and tricks to contribute. Like how western culture has totally whipped consumerism in gear with a holiday tacking a price tag on love and affection

Whether you buy into Valentines Day or not - Azul does not forget, and tries to establish a bit of a promotion at the Lounge. Hard to do in a school with nearly 100% male population…but he does manage, there are many forms of love other than romantic. It’s also easy to prey on lonely shmucks feeling down on their luck -

*sigh*

Despite remembering the day and campaigning for it - Azul isn’t prepared to receive a present. Not one without strings attached. It’s nothing much. A singular piece of rich, creamy cheesecake, wrapped in a neat little box with his name scrawled on a gift tag. Just enough to indulge but not tempt him to gorge. The perfect sweetness for someone like him to kick back at his desk and enjoy a brief respite.

Has consistently inviting you over for tea finally worked? All those nights of meticulously planning, trying to gather notions and novels while not overbearing you…like fishing. Carefully reeling in and letting loose until you willingly came to him

…no. He mustn’t assume. He will not. This could be obligatory, friendship….familial? No. Certainly not yet.

For all his predatory behavior on those lovesick ‘shmucks’ - Azul enjoys that piece of cheesecake with a bit more gusto than he’d let on. On White Day, do accept a ‘traditional’ assortment of cookies and chocolates, alongside a private dinner reservation.

Oh sweetheart, he’s already way ahead of you. This sunshine never forgets a single holiday. Any chance to celebrate is always taken. He was the first to ever inquire about what parties and events people in ‘our-world’ follow, or at least the ones you do.

Kalim likely picked out gifts in advance - some for his friends, his dorm-mates, a special thank you for Jamil…

And you, of course. The main focus of Valentines is romance, eh? You think he’s going to let that chance slip through his fingers? Especially if you’ve never gotten anything for Valentines before. You’ll be setting off to go track him down, just to find him carrying a teetering stack of boxes up to Ramshackle. Grim’s already drooling.

Part of him wanted to make something with his own two hands. Yet with limited experience in the kitchen, his options were small. He also didn’t want to frustrate Jamil by making a mess…but isn’t the point of this holiday to make one’s feelings clear?

Enlisting help also wouldn’t do. He had to do something on his own. Kalim can buy you the world, but some things need to be done with a man’s own two hands.

Inside the smallest box on the very top is a paper elephant that Kalim folded himself. It’s nothing extravagant, but he’s done crafts with his siblings before. Rather than toll away in the kitchen to come up with something near inedible, Kalim wanted to do something with his skills. Something fun and unique. You can fold it down too, so it can be stored away somewhere safe.

The sight’s a bit intimidating, especially with your small bouquet of yellow and roses, partnered with a few sprigs of baby’s breath. Yet Kalim looks so pleased to bring you his gifts, it’s hard to feel anything but happiness. Especially when he takes one look at the flowers and near bounces to the clouds.

Sure, you might’ve given little gifts to your friends but no one else has flowers. You thought of him first!

Does that mean he’s special? He sure hopes so. Part of him wishes he got you more gifts, but he had to stop somewhere. Otherwise you’d feel overwhelmed…

Guess you’ll both have to do something for each other on White Day though, huh? A banquet for two sounds perfect to his ears.

Ruggie's easy to please. If it's free, he'll take it. You could have offered up the last soda in your fridge, and he would have took it without a second thought.

Problem is - nothing's 'free'. He knows you're not like that - the cunning type (like him) - at least when it comes to abusing others for personal gain. Socially, to be clear. Aka. You know the struggle of scraping coins together to get by, so he's 99.98% sure you're not one to toss a gift his way just 'cause you don't want it anymore. You're also not abundant in resources - so you wouldn't use money to butter him up like Leona does. Maybe a bit of pulling the heart-strings (which regrettably works, not that he'll ever admit it).

Which is why he's doing a lil' mental rodeo when presented with heart-shaped cream donuts. Not the cheap kind either. The good ones. Glazed with cholate, stuffed with vanilla custard, and a dollop of whipped cream on top with a cherry. He won't look a gift horse in the mouth, and takes the basket like you're handing over gold.

For something this good, you've gotta have a good reason. It's not his birthday. Not a holiday he knows about. He hasn't helped you out at all either - at least, nothing out of the ordinary. He'd be super suspicious if this was literally anyone else.

Let's just completely bypass the heart-shape and nervousness bleeding out as you hand the goods over. Ruggie knows better than to hope for a good thing.

He just chalks it up to you spending too much time picking up baking tricks with Trey - ya do hang around Heartslabyul a lot. Ruggie's admit to enjoying a good donut - maybe you were using him as a test dummy for a recipe? Yeah. That's it. He won't get ahead of himself. He'll totally be chowing down on these later, and stuffs the box away for safe keeps (Savanaclaw bros will eat anything).

When he's in the clear? Happily downing his spoils in the sanctity of his dorm, chilling by the waterfall in the lounge? Jack pops in,, spots the donuts, recognizes the wrapping, and comments that they're different from what everyone else got.

and thus - Ruggie learns about Valentines day...and recounts the encounter with a new perspective.

Ruggie acts nonchalant about it. He was already savoring the donuts, but now he's eating slower. Reallllly thinking it over....he's not dumb, y'know.

You might have slipped by him this time, and as a bit of payback he'll reign himself in. It'll be fun watching ya stumble here and there for a bit - knowing he's got the 'good thing' guaranteed.

For White Day? Expect the tables to turn with a pack of sugar cookies - what? They're quick, simple, and sweet. Oh, and they're shaped like hearts too. Familiar? Take that as ya will, shishishi~

Well-informed about Valentines Day. Grim would not shut up about it for an entire week with all his whining and bemoaning about being surrounded by candy that he couldn't eat. Not if he wanted to keep living in Ramshackle.

Deuce thinks it's admirable that you prepare gifts for everyone. Group mentality, y'know? Making sure no one gets left out...even the people who don't deserve that kindness. It's no wonder you're a prefect, even if it was by default.

Yup. Somehow the holiday inspires him. Deuce is invested and supportive. He offers to keep Grim on lockdown at Heartslabyul if you really want to protect all the goodies. Just in case of sticky paws.

Also? Deuce will do anything to make you feel a bit more at home. Seeing you so excited to celebrate something from your world, especially after adhering to Wonderland's festivals (starsending, harveston sledathon, cloudcalling etc) - well, it would be shitty of him not to be supportive. Do you want help passing out gifts? You helped him collect wishes when he was a stargazer, it's only fair.

Imagine when the day comes and everyone's received their little baggie of treats - Deuce is left with one short. He made sure that everyone got their share first, and was happy to have helped despite being disappointed that he was one-short. He thinks you've miscounted and it was on accident. Not for a moment does Deuce think you would intentionally forget him.

Which is exactly why he doesn't say a word. Seeing you happy an being a part of your holiday is more than enough for Deuce. It's corny, but your smile is his present. He'd rather swipe some of Ace's and fib than make you feel bad for miscounting.

Except you didn't miscount. When Deuce heads back to his dorm for the night, he opens his bag to see a surprise slipped inside the outer pocket.

There's a small card, explaining that it felt unfair for everyone to get a surprise but him. Expressing gratitude for his support - both for helping celebrate Valentines and as a friend. Also that his gift was 'special,' and you wanted to spare him the awkwardness of receiving it in front of everyone.

He wonders what kind of 'special' you mean. Deuce pulls out a box of creme filled chocolate eggs. While the bags he passed out earlier were all exactly the same in quality and size - this gift was different.

Different. Special. Cute. Thoughtful. Romantic? If his gift was 'special' compared to everyone else's....

His roommates find Deuce passed out in an emotional sugar coma on the ground. No one moves him. Ace gives you crap for 'running juice-y ragged' the next day and gets pummeled for it.

Deuce tries time and time again to see if your gift meant more...but ultimately fails. His seniors can't watch him flounder anymore, and on White Day he steels his courage. Ready for battle, Deuce offers a bouquet of wild flowers and heartfelt sentiment.

Impressing Leona is both the simplest and most daunting task. What can you give a man who can purchase anything he wants on his own?

Wholesome Sincerity.

Leona acts uninterested when discussing your world - and for the most part? It's not feigned. He grows curious when politics, sports, world progression (research, etc), and how function without magic works. Good examples could be American Football and Rugby - which play similar to Spelldrive and pique his tactical mind. Also diplomatic relations between our countries, the use of differing energy sources other than magic, etc. The stuff a prince who wants to improve his homeland would want information on.

He does not care about celebrity fads or a famous gorilla named Harmbe.

Using this logic, you'd assume he wouldn't want to hear about a commercialized holiday like Valentines Day...right?

Partially correct.

No, he does not care about capitalism preying on sweethearts and monetizing love. Waste of his brain space. What Leona does care about is your investment in the holiday. Just like how he'll have one ear tuned in during those rare moments you let information about your life before Night Raven slip out.

You don't breathe a word about celebrating the holiday to him, but Leona expects a gift. Cocky, sure. He just knows ya too well, sue him. Even though you don't mention giving presents out, you bring up the holiday one too many times when chatting with others in his vicinity. Unlike the fresh meat, he doesn't need to be told straight out when cogs are turning in your head.

So he's plays the quiet game all day. He won't seek you out, but he'll hang around spots you know to find him at. Ruggie pops in during lunch with a wrapped baggie of sweets in one hand and lo-behold, Leona was right. You were giving gifts out like the good herbivore he knew you were. A few look arounds while walking on campus show the same goody bag in roughly every 10th student walking around. All in freshman year, all you likely see in class. With the exception of more obvious relations such as the...eugh...Leech Twins. It's hard not to know Floyd got something with his loud mouth and taunts.

All the same. Obligatory, he notes.

Leona spends longer than usual lazing in his dorm's lounge that night, resting with his eyes closed and lazing on one of the open rocks. A singular perked ear gives him away though, and it twitches when familiar footsteps approach.

Just as planned, you're leaning over him with that sickeningly earnest grin. All to eager to hand over one of those little bags of chocolate he's seen -

Except you set a large, heavy box on his stomach, and he can't maintain his indifference when faced with something....well, definitely not obligatory. An idiot would think this is obligatory.

Ceramic Sunflowers. Exactly six of them in a small white vase. The paint job is shoddy and honestly Savanaclaw is not a place to keep fragile items. He kind of wants to, since the only place you could get a kiln for this is the Gargoyle Studies Club...the thought of that lizard showing you how to carve clay taints the gift just a tad.

Except it's entirely novel all the same, and the hidden meaning is blatantly obvious too. Sickeningly sweet, he might lose a fang. Giving a gift like this to someone like him...with that poorly hidden affection.

He prepared a return gift in expectation for your chocolates. He's a jerk but wouldn't put down your holiday...but before that, he'll ask straight out of this is romantic or platonic. No mercy.

If romantic? Well, he'll waste no time meeting your sweetness with a kiss, clasping a colorfully beaded necklace around your neck in the moment.

Tradition is meant to be honored! Just because you are no longer in your world, does not mean you can shirk your civic responsibilities!

It takes some effort to explain that Valentines is an optional holiday. That it is not celebrated in every country in your world, and that most people do not partake at all. No holiday is mandatory, although some are more widely advertised than others. The meaning behind those days changes by the person.

You can try using Malleus' birthday as an example - it's a big day in Briar Valley after all. It won't work, since Sebek thinks it should be celebrated worldwide and anyone from Briar Valley not doing so should be considered treasonous.

Regardless if you enjoy Valentines or not - Sebek will remember the day (as well as others you mention, and any traditions that you may consider important). He wants you to celebrate, and already told his liege. Malleus was all too eager to hear a bit of your past and is going to send a card. Are you going to not return his good grace?! That's unthinkable - you will celebrate and that is that.

It's important to note that Sebek honed in on the familial and friendship aspects of Valentines. Aka he heard about a chance to revere the people he cares about and went with it. He did not ignore the romance part. In fact, it wavered him enough for his thoughts to roam a brief moment. Then he forcibly snapped himself out of it, and returned to lecturing you about upholding tradition....

He doesn't intrude upon your home - isn't it expected for the giver to prepare their gifts alone? That is what gives the present meaning.

On Valentines day, he presents Malleus and Lilia with presents. Silver too...begrudgingly. Also small candies for his 'friends' since Lilia said it would be against the day's law to forgo them for his ego. Malleus gets the most though, since he is whom Sebek admires above all. Fair warning.

He is pleased to see that you've given out presents to the others as well. Proud, even. It is important to remember your roots and he is pleased to have played a part.

Which is exactly why Sebek proudly boasts a gift for you. It's not the small candies the others received, nor the lavish sweets given to Malleus. As per tradition, Sebek presents you with a heart-shaped box of mixed truffles. He does it in front of everyone else too...very loudly...and despite his insistence that your gift is different since you're a close friend to Malleus? That bright red blush creeping out of Sebek's collar says otherwise.

Emotions and admiration are not something to be hidden. Repressed? Perhaps, but not hidden.

So you give him his gift in turn. Somehow his heart pounds just as hard for your box of chocolates as it did for Malleus' card. He takes it with the stiffest movements you've ever seen, jerking like a toy doll. As if anything beyond a curt 'thank you, human' will cause him to combust

That's because it will. Just saying.

....oho?

Ah. What a precious holiday. Truly.

Lilia is always looking for ways to spice up life. Compliance and predictability are good - but do you know what's better? Fun. Sometimes it’s best to just ‘go with the flow’ as people say.

Your flow always has something exciting in it's path - but so rare does it involve lighthearted joys such as as sweets and love. What a nice change of pace, and novel too! Lilia can't help but grow curious when you tell his about Valentines. A baby that flies through the air and shoots people with arrows? Clad in a diaper? Don’t give him ideas. Maybe TWST could use a bat Cupid…

He’s eager when you invite him and his boys to a party. Malleus is overjoyed to have an invitation to Ramshackle, Sebek goes whereever Malleus does, and Silver wouldn't make light of an invite from a friend. You must be excited to host as well, no? Can he help at all?

He almost refrains from pulling mischief. Almost. In Lilia's defense, his intentions were pure. You wanted to share a bit of love with the people you cared about, no? It would be negligent for him not to do the same!

So….he prepares a special batch of brownies to the potluck. Made with the eggshells included for a crunch! And what’s love without a little spice? He added extra hot sauce for a kick. He just knows it will be a hit!

It was a ‘hit’ alright….you hadn’t the heart to tell him no, and Silver had no time to swap out Lilia’s batch for a palatable option. His brownies sat mostly untouched on the table for the entire party. He tried to steer some unfortunate souls friends towards them, but somehow they never met their mark. Cater tripped and dropped his on the floor. Kalim was a bit quick to add that he needs his food tested, and Jamil was always preoccupied somewhere out of sight. Grim wolfed one down but disappeared before Lilia could ask how it tasted.

At some point half the platter did go missing….Silver said that it was so good, he was the one to eat them. Well, he’s still growing. Lilia doesn’t mind but he should have saved some for everyone! This is a day meant to spread joy and love after all.

Luckily Lilia prepared. To be safe, he’d made an extra batch. One he intended just for you. He made this one extra sweet with roughly chopped coffee beans inside. The strong kind that can keep a horse for three days straight! With the most “satisfying” texture! He knew soldiers that would crunch these bad boys whole during the war, and you do have much on your plate these days. He cut them into hearts as well. Someone name a better use for his blade skills? He’ll wait.

So he leaves the party early, intent to let his boys have their fun and return later on in the evening. That night a tiny bat carrying such a heavy package zips through the kitchen window, nearly scaring the plates out of your hands.

Now. On one hand, you’re happy he’s returned. He left so sudden and you wanted more time together.

On the other?….it’s doomsday once you see that tray of brownies. Lilia is proud when he describes all the ‘beneficial’ ingredients and why he chose them just for you. It would make your heart throb if not for the fear twisting knots in your gut.

Lilia wiggles the platter just by your face, his impish grin pressing his cheeks plump. Only to be rendered stupefied when you pull out a plate of chocolate strawberries from the fridge.

These weren’t on the menu earlier. He’d recall such a cute assortment. The berries are all dipped in fun toppings as well - akin to a sweet Russian roulette packed with unexpected combinations. It seems you were more than saddened that he left early…his invitation extended past the pretense of a friendly party. The blush on your cheeks says as much.

As does a brownie from his earlier tray. You seemed to snag one, not wanting to eat it during the party aka wanting to have it when your stomach could perish in peace

While Lilia hadn’t been amiss to these developments in both your heart and his….well, he hadn’t expected a personal present. Perhaps some joking flirtations, but you were a sweet thing. Much more than he could expect, and Fae never take on matters of the heart with mirth.

This was your holiday, no? Just because it dabbles in amour does not mean you would intend to pursue a cheeky thing like himself….alas, he’s too cute to resist and so are you. Give him a moment to process and expect the party to truly begin

What are you waiting for? Have a brownie <3

Head of the ‘Gimmie Gimmie Brigade’. Ace isn’t invested, but he’s also not disinterested. Valentines seems like something people over at Royal Sword Academy would buy into. From the way you’re talking about it - a holiday meant to celebrate lovers and all the amorous things in life is way too goody-goody for Night Raven.

No one here’s happy enough to buy into that. Wait - no, scratch that. They’re all miserable but with a bit of tweaking it could have some merit. Thing is that people here are way too invested in themselves to ever pull a gift exchange or be open about their *gag* feelings

Of course, Ace only aims to shut you down when it comes to spreading the love with campus. You want to keep it within Heartslabyul? Better yet, just between the two of you? He’s all for it. We all know he’s just talking it down to look cool. This is his plan from the get-go.

Hey. Think you guys could get a holiday excuse from class? Is this a religious thing? No? Damn. Can you lie and say it is?

Ace knows you’ll go out of your way to make something for everyone - if ya do it at all. Which is likely since once an idea gets set into that skull of yours, Ace knows it’s better to just ride the coaster than try to hop off…

For a holiday meant for lovers, you’re sure dense. Has he told you that you’re a Dummy yet? Yeah? Well he’s going to say it about every other hour, because you’re completely missing his signals. It has to be on purpose. He is absolutely sure that you’re screwing with him, making candy for all these other dudes.

For all his complaining, Ace isn’t going to let anyone ruin your holiday spirit. His protective side comes out and Ace is right there doing the delivery route too. He’ll hand over the candy on your behalf to anyone that even looks like they’ll give a bit of lip. A bit more harsh than necessary too, with his little challenging squint. Again. He seriously thinks you should’ve kept this to Heartslabyul and maybe your close friends…other dorms don’t deserve it.

He also makes a point to enforce that it is obligatory chocolate, given as a gesture of good will as a new Ramshackle Holiday. So no one gets any funny ideas…chk. Dream logged bastards.

As part of the gimmie gimmie parade, he expects a gift of his own. Ace makes sure to snag one (or three) of the candy bags while you guys walk around….and for his leg work? He wants to sleep over. So you better give him the bed. He takes your easy compliance as a won victory, and sticks his tongue out to Deuce while packing his bag cause it’s ‘helpers only’ night.

On one hand? Bro is happy the day is done with. It was good giving a bit back and seeing you so happy. Although he will once again say that you shouldn’t have given chocolate to so many guys - just to really grill it in there before bed

Speaking of the bed? It’s so nice. Much better than a stuffy dorm with three other guys…that is, until you rip the sheets out from under him and send Ace’s ass to the floor. He’s this close to doing the same. His hand’s reaching over the bedside with malicious intent, but your head pops over the ledge and points to the clock

11:58pm - the day’s almost done, and you’ve got a last surprise for him. Tadaaaa! Cherry cordial chocolates. Just for Ace. Did you really have to push him out of bed for it? No, but he was a whiney jerk all day so you felt it was right.

Ace is peeved. Not enough to yank you down anymore, but he takes the entire box of candy and starts to eat them all in one-go so you can’t have any. They’re his, yeah? Special jussssst for him? Maybe this isn’t a bad holiday after all…so long as you don’t do anything special for another guy.

For all your ‘good will’…he’ll be happy to drag you along to an ice-cream parlor on White Day. With a bit of wordplay, getting the day placed as mandatory activity is a breeze.

The only way to catch Malleus by surprise is when he’s most vulnerable. Aka…morning hours. Surely he lets his guard down more when it is just you and him, but there’s still decorum. There is still calculation. There is still a working braincell in his head.

And oh do you wish to surprise him. Just once in this lifetime. He loves hearing stories about your world and sharing thoughts. You couldn’t spend the winter holiday together. Everyone left campus and so you partied with Grim and the ghosts….but now there is a chance to give Malleus a cultural experience!

Which means you will need to enlist help. Insert Vanrouge, who unceremoniously hints that the dear Ramshackle Prefect is freezing their tukus off in a dorm with only a hearth to heat the building.

Hook. Oh, woe is the prefect. Humans can get sick from the cold and even die from hypothermia.

Line. Despite the fire fairies working hard to maintain NRC’s temperature during the cold months, Ramshackle is still on the tail end of their list. Other dorms take precedent due to their population.

Sinker. The poor prefect, all alone in that large building. They toughed out the winter but there’s supposed to be an unexpected ice storm this weekend! Possibly the biggest that the Isle has seen in years! Hopefully they stocked up on firewood and safety gear.

And thus, an invitation was extended.

Malleus is hardly one to insist, then again he’s rarely denied. Yet your body is a temple and he would love to have you as a guest. Better yet, transfer to Diasomnia? No? Okay. Guest will do. You can even stay in the room next to his. It’s been empty since his enrollment, and he will personally see to your safety.

Little does he know that there will be no ice storm, you are as fit as a fiddle, and Lilia will do anything to give Malleus a fun surprise.

Truth be told - Malleus thought you were a bit quiet. Mayhaps secretive. At first he thought you felt intimidated by his dormitory, and it saddened him so. He did lay the invitation on thick but it was for your safety! You wouldn’t let anyone carry your bags, not even when he offered to teleport them to your quarters.

While you chat the first night away, sipping tea and enjoying each other’s company in the lounge…a rare evening for him indeed. He quite likes the sight of you in Diasomnia with him. Regardless, Malleus goes to bed with a disquieted heart. He hopes you like it here, and that he won’t feel off-put when it is time for you to go home. Malleus remembers how he felt when you disappeared to the Isle of Woe. It was unpleasant to say the least.

Unsuspecting and a bit miffed from missed sleep - Malleus wakes the next day with an unceremonious stretch and yawn. He’s about to get ready for the day when there’s a loud string of crashes and thuds from the next room. Needless to say, he forgoes to even put on his slippers before teleporting over.

….

Concern is definitely a word that describes one of the various emotions going on. Bewildered is another. Also something else - lacking definitim and unfamiliar. It teeters somewhere on the cusp between good and bad. A weird, twisted fondness that he’s only felt in your presence on occasion.

You stacked a chair on top of the dresser, trying to hang paper streamers of hearts and snowflakes across the ceiling. Grim was hissing curses while trying to lift said dresser off you, because the whole thing came crashing down in the process.

Along with the curtains. The rod barely clung to the window, with one end hanging in the air. A splatter of melted icecream cake streamed down the wall and onto the floor. It left stark streak of red against Diasomnia’s brick

Your expression - utterly horrified. He can ascertain that without any hints. Not with fear but just complete mortification. Malleus has no idea what’s going on, but it’s so ridiculous that he’s biting down laughter while levitating the dresser back to it’s normal state. His brain was lagging behind just -

What lets him loose is the little ‘surprise?’ you squeak once freed - which is is nothing but a grasp at straws as you try and fail to salvage the wall cake. By the time Lilia comes to check on your ‘progress,’ he finds Malleus laughing harder then ever.

All this just to surprise him? Oh. Please tell him the entire story from idea to execution. People go to extreme lengths for Malleus all the time, but this is just something so entirely….hm. That feeling isn’t going away. It seems all he needs to do is think about your clumsy efforts and it comes around again.

This is a gift in itself. He must know how to reciprocate appropriately, so what do you wish for this ‘White Day’? He hasn’t been this excited to gift something in quite some time.

Special Mention : Grim!!

This little shit.

This smug little shit.

Grim thinks he’s sooooooo smart. Doesn’t matter who you’re making treats for - he’s claiming tax on every bag. It’s a one for you, one for me scenario.

Every batch of chocolate prepared comes with that forsaken paw stretching up past the counter, the ‘gimmie’ motion is getting old. He needs new tricks or else you’ll swat him with the rolling pin next.

Valentines day? That’s another human holiday, huh? He ain’t heard of it….but if it’s important to you, then he’ll bite. It helps that he gets free food out of it.

And tuna. Lots of tuna. Grim doesn’t want to see you give ANYONE else a gift that’s bigger than his. They don’t deserve it. None of them do. Maybe Ace and Deuce….and Jack, but that’s it. Even if they get somethin’ big, Grim’s should be better

Which is exactly why by the time Valentines day comes, he’s on his ‘nth’ can of tuna and you physically have to take privilege away before your pockets go dry.

Why’s it like this? Because you’re his henchman. You shouldn’t love anyone else more than you love him. You’re a team.

He sees you give the ghosts chocolate and tries to swipe it. They can’t even eat the stuff! Why bother?

Thus, Grim gets his little but chased out of the kitchen…and the dorm…and all the other dorms since he’s tailing your delivery runs

Grim doesn’t care too much about the meaning behind Valentines day. Yet no one getting your candy better be ungrateful, or expect anythin’ more than obligatory gifts. He has claws and will use them. He ain’t known his ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ too well before NRC…but these guys better use it or they’re getting fried tooshie instead of sweet nothings.

And at the end of the day? He doesn’t have much to offer ya in return, but there’s a stack of ‘favor’ coupons smacked over your head right before bed. Isn’t a big stack, since Grim can only tame himself so much…but they’re exchangeable for good kitty behavior! There’s one for uninterrupted studying, one to have the bed to yourself for a night, one for a free delivery, and a few chore coupons. His handwriting is hard to read, but you assume Riddle helped with the arrangement from the nice stationary and perfect spelling.

Don’t go using them all at once either!…by the time he’s done bashfully giving you his ‘perfect’ gift, Grim’s already curled up next to you and passed out cold. It’s a food coma for the books.

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kawhh · 2 days ago

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I was gonna go on anon with this, but you know what? I'm a whore for all three of our boys and I'm proud. So with that being said, what about being shared between Jack, Quinn and Trevor? Thoughts?

UNASHAMED WHORES UNITE. (before I sleep, it's 1am and I need a nap)

It keeps me up often. I'll admit. There's something about the balance of all three of them and how they'd make eachother worse.

They all have different levels of restraint but they'd all end up complete monsters. Constantly poking eachother. To the point of even making Q snap.

I feel like trevor would be the first to touch you. Forcing you on his lap, hooking your legs open. The way he'd trail his fingers slowly up your thighs, the way he'd threaten to violate you, hooking his thumbs under the lace of your underwear, snapping it back against your skin.

Burying his head in your neck, smirking at the brothers. If they're gonna be cowards about it, he's not gonna let that delay him ruining the cute little slut in his lap. A cruel look in his eyes as he bounces you slightly in his lap, forcing you to feel his cock press against you. Only getting harder with how they're glaring at him. Oh, if looks could kill.

Taking it further, licking a stripe up your neck as he lets his fingers dip under your underwear, close enough to your adorable little hole that he knows they won't know if it's actually touching you. Moaning in your ear, pretending that he's feeling you soaking his fingers.

He can see it working, he can see how worked up Jack's getting. His clenched fingers are pale. The slight tremble in his arms, the restraint he's using to not pounce on you. He swears he's almost drawing blood with how tight he's biting his lip. He won't take long. Just needs a little push.

"Mhmm.. Jaaack.. you really should feel how fucking soaked our little slut is. She's clenching around nothing.. such a fucking whore. Soaking my hand."

Biting your ear, making you squeak, giving your clit a harsh stroke, relishing in how Jack's eye's twitch at the sound of your arousal.

He's not focusing on Quinn. He won't snap until it's both of them bullying you. Too much of an ego. Too much self praise of his control.

The sound's too much for Jack, he's grabbing your ankles, yanking you down the bed. He can't handle not touching you. Can't handle someone touching his property. Trevor can't fuck you like he can. He's too selfish. He won't focus on you. Too focused on his own need to cum. Unlike him. He'll have you screaming before he even bottoms out in you.

Trevor's forgetting the numbers advantage. If he can get Quinn to snap, they're so in sync that he won't stand a chance. You'll be begging to be shared between them. You could wake up every morning with them, spit roasting you for breakfast.

He lets out a borderline growl as he watches Trevor rest your head against his cock. See? Selfish. Even now he's trying to get his dick sucked instead of worshiping you.

Fuck that.

He's yanking you even further down the bed, ignoring your comfort now that he's wrapped up in this ego battle. Blinded with how irritated he is. Giving you no warning as he rips your underwear, diving in to bite your hip, tearing the scraps from your body with his teeth. Glaring up at Trevor. He's still smirking. Still thinks he has the advantage. So what if he was the first to touch you?

Slapping your soaking pussy, the smugness increasing in his glare as you moan and jolt. Pussy clearly knows who it belongs to. Resting his head against your inner thigh, slowly leaving kisses around your hole, teasing you, the way you squeak if he gets too close.

Seeing Trevor twitch, kissing you directly on your tight, wet hole, frenching your cute little lips. Dragging his tongue along your walls. Eyes rolling back in his head at your taste. 'Course his girl tastes delicious. Digging his hands into your ass, lifting you up towards him. Needing more leverage to tongue fuck you. Smothering himself in your arousal. Feeling it drip down his chin, soaking the bed.

He can feel Quinn sitting on the edge of the bed next to him, looking up briefly to see him stroke your hair.

"Being a good girl for Jack, angel? Yeah? You gonna cum on his face? Warm your cunt up for me, yeah?"

You're crying at the contrast. The softness of Quinn's actions.. the brutal way Jack's swirling his tongue inside of you. Firmly trapped in their grip, far away from Trevor.

Helpless to defend against the way Jack manhandles you, flipping you onto your stomach, tugging your hair back, forcing you to look at Trevor. Murderous looking Trevor. He's suddenly thrusting into you, giving you no warning, no time to warm up. Going back on his need to make you cum and scream first. He needs this. Feeling his balls slap against your skin, the sound echoing through the room. Every slap making Trevor twitch.

Hammering into you, pushing you further into the bed. The drag of his cock against your walls is brain numbing. You don't know if you're crying, screaming or dying. He's slamming into your cervix, a little circle to his hips at the end of every thrust, making sure you can feel how big he is, how he fucks you better than anyone ever will.

Yelping as you feel hands on your ass, taking a second to realise what's happening. You'd almost forgotten. Whimpering as you're attacked with an even harder thrust, like he's telling you off for forgetting Quinn in your cock drunk haze.

Trying to squirm up the bed as your feel Quinn playing with your ass, stretching you apart to spit on your untouched hole, giving Jack a better view of how your cunt is gripping him, desperate to keep him inside.

It's no good. Good little sluts don't crawl away from what they're being given. You're being yanked down towards them, feeling like you're actually going to split apart on Jack's cock. Your vision blurs at the brutality.

Feeling Quinn slowly drag his thumb around your hole, threatening to push in. The pressure, the threat, making you whine loudly, begging them for mercy.

"Want me to really show you a good time, angel? Or do you want us both in that stretched little cunt?"

Jack's collapsing against your back at his brother's words, the darkness in his voice. Slamming into you one last time before he floods you. Watching his cum leak out, eyes widening as Quinn scoops it up with his thumb, pressing it against your ass. Forcing it in slightly, giving your ass a smack as a parting gift.

You're barely conscious, dragging your face up the soft bedsheets, glancing up at Trevor. He's a fucking mess. You can see his cum soaked boxers from here, the redness on his cheeks. The way he's just staring at you.

You're being grabbed, the brothers half throwing you up the bed, making you land close to Trevor. They're sandwiching you in a huddle on the bed before you can move. Quinn holding your leg up against his grip, grinding himself against you.

"Best you get some sleep.. before you wake up with my cock down your throat. Still have to show you who the best brother is, don't I?"

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circeyoru · 2 days ago

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Love Trial _ Part 4

[Sung Jinwoo x High School Ex-Lover!Reader]

Part 1 ― Part 2 ― Part 3 ― Part 4 (here) ― Part 5

“They’re together again.”

“I say they make a good couple.”

“Aren’t they just so cute together?”

“Wish I had a boyfriend too…”

“They’re lucky to have much other~”

You and Jinwoo were the talk of the school whenever the two of you walked together on school grounds, whether it was going to school together cause you two lived close or walking through the hallways together to head to the cafeteria for lunch. Both of you brushed off the rumours in the beginning, you two were close friends, nothing else.

Then one day, Jinwoo asked, “What are we exactly?”

“Humans.” You answered without missing a beat, even though you were reading your favourite novels instead of studying for finals.

“I don’t mean that!” Jinwoo exclaimed, but caught himself by the evident redden face from his outburst. He cleared his throat and elaborated, “I mean, our relationship. We’re close, but are we just best friends?”

“Excuse you,” You glared at him after leaning down your book, “We are childhood best friends. Mind you, my friendship is one you can’t just get off the streets, mister.”

That seemed to make Jinwoo chuckle, momentarily averting from the serious topic. You tend to do that, but humour was something he liked about you. Oh. “I think I like you.”

“I like you too, if I didn’t we wouldn’t be friends.”

“As more than a friend, I mean.” Jinwoo shyly corrected you, “What I want to say is I love you.”

You blinked at him and squinted your eyes. “That’s so random, you’re not doing it by the steps.” You showed him your novel, “See, if you truly love someone the way I see it, you need to time the perfect moment and set the mood.”

“Oh…”

“Always.” It was your turn to clear your throat, you raised your book upright to continue reading it. “Back to studying.”

“You’re not even reading the textbook or reference books…”

“Hush! Mind your own business.” While Jinwoo did so, your mind went elsewhere. Being in love and being loved was something you wanted, but you questioned whether you were actually in love with Jinwoo in that way. Novels and films wrote love to be so clear and obvious, but in reality, it never was that easy.

Since that day, you began to subtly look at Jinwoo differently. His little quirks, his little flaws, his little joys. Everything. You knew then when your heart was always at peace with him and you longed for him by your side, that was love. Though, you didn’t know how Jinwoo saw you after that conversation. You assumed he saw you the same way since he learned from his mistake and popped you that question to move onto the next step in your relationship.

How naive.

Following your confrontation with Jinwoo, your picture of him as the stone-faced, strongest, and most impenetrable Hunter somehow changed to that of an abandoned puppy―if that made any sense.

If someone were to ask you to name the most desperate person in your life, you’d pick this guy who snuck into your lecture hall and boldly sat next to you, even innocently writing down short sentences in a notepad before ripping the pages and passed them to you. You were a diligent student, so you were paying attention in your studies and marked down notes. Needless to say, you were using learning as an excuse to ignore Jinwoo.

To the point that one side of your arm was covered in pieces of paper from Jinwoo. Luckily, it was not your dominant side, else you would have called off Jinwoo ages ago. The messages ranged from mundane ’are you free after this lecture’ to ’can I get you a drink’. Now why weren’t you doing anything like an outburst or trying the usual tricks?

It was mostly due to the aftermath of your rooftop conversation. Yes, you did draw an obvious bolded thick line between the two of you and told him you want nothing to do with him. Yes, you did say you’re leaving things in the past and opted to enjoy your present life than wallow in anguish. However! Jinwoo took it as an opportunity to start over.

Just as you were leaving, he confidently and boldly proclaimed, “Give me some time! I’ll prove I’m serious about you. I know I have no excuse for what I did to you and I know nothing can wash away this slate. But. I want to show you I have seen the error in my ways and want to change.” His voice shook in a way that made your heart ache for it reminded you of the old days when you two were your real carefree selves with each other. “Please, give me a chance and don’t push me away.”

And guess what, you caved and gave him a chance. The only thing you never accounted for was Jinwoo approaching you at any given opportunity. He was almost around you for 27/4, wait you got that wrong, 24/7. Yes, that’s right. See how he has affected you… You can’t even get the time right because he was just always there. Respectfully keeping his distance when you had company, but there all the same.

“I brought you something to drink.” Jinwoo popped up out of nowhere when you were just sitting in the lecture hall waiting for the class to start.

“Can I sit here?” A stray Jinwoo just approached you while you were on the bench resting.

“It’s going to rain and you don’t seem to have- Oh, I thought you didn’t have an umbrella and waited for you…” Jinwoo awkwardly chuckled when you gave him the deadpanned face and opened an umbrella right before his eyes, you went first into the rain but then Jinwoo soon joined your side, “Let’s walk together to the station then.”

There were so many more that you can’t even remember it all…

“He’s at it again…” Jong-In chuckled as he sat next to you, “When are you going to announce our break-up? I feel like I’m third wheeling when he’s around.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, sighing in frustration and annoyance. “We can ‘break up’ only if it’s what you want. Not for that insufferable guy…”

“I never seen you this mad and indifferent to someone… What exactly did he do to you?” Jong-In questioned half-heartedly, knowing you wouldn’t enlighten him with your answer or story. He added when you had that look in your eyes, “Hey, we’ve been together―as friends―for a long time and I know how your moods are. Whatever he’s done wrong to you, I think you’re trying to forgive him too.” He chuckled as he commented, “Well, more like you’re putting him through trials of love. You know, to prove himself?”

“...”

“You don’t want to be hurt again, don’t you?”

You weakly nodded―mentally at least. All of this was so exhausting to you. If only Jinwoo had went for Cha Hae-In like he did in his past life… Then everything would been perfect and you could move on with time.

You glanced over to the door, particularly the glass that gave you a peek of the outside, Jinwoo’s arm was there in view. Even after you told him you didn’t want to see him. You heard Jong-In’s remark, “At least our professor banned him from the lecture hall, no disturbance for the prized student and you get some time and space away from him.”

You turned back to your lecture notes, a tiny―very tiny―upward curl at the corner of your lips. “Stupid dummy…”

Note: The last part will be uploaded tomorrow on Valentine's Day~ My treat to you since this one is quite short~ Spoiler, there's a bit of angst, but it's a fluff end. No worries. Not breaking any hearts.

𝕮𝖎𝖗𝖈𝖊 𝖄.

My Works: MASTERLIST *(regarding requests, check the Masterlist to see if it’s opened or not and other info related before sending one. Thanks.)

Taglist: @my-arietta @mydearestbeloved @skylar896 @o-qi-shisme @the-dumber-scaramouche @mochinon-yah @waka-babe @ditmemay1234 @mangooes @cottonbeeeeeeee @gurlie919 @rozuburedo @j1yuji @knucklesdeepmingi @amayakurusu13 @rjasmin2021 @needsleep3000 @backgroundcharactera @mushy-mushroom04 @sxftiebee @tanspostsblog @izaquix078 @lilliana-14 @ariseverdark @simpforskz143148

#Circe’s Nighty Writings #Solo Leveling #Only I Can Level Up #solo leveling x reader #solo leveling jinwoo #sung jin woo x reader #sung jinwoo x reader #sung jinwoo #sung jinwoo x you #jinwoo #Love Trial

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aealzx · 2 days ago

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As Sonic slammed through the enemy’s weapons Knuckles slid to a stop next to Shadow and threw his body protectively over the black hedgehog’s smaller form, a hand resting on Shadow’s head, and face turning to snarl at the soldiers. Only when significant damage had been done did Sonic skid to a stop, standing between the soldiers and Shadow with his arms spread wide, blue lightning rippling off his form. The quiet that fell over the field wasn’t complete, but it was still numbing. “Stay down, new hedgehog. I’ll keep you safe,” Knuckles spoke quietly to Shadow when he tried to push himself up despite the form over him. He smelled of blood mixed with ash, and Knuckles could hear the slight wheeze in his painfully heavy breaths. It was a simple command, but Knuckles was uncertain if the way Shadow’s form relaxed after a moment was a good thing or not. He seemed to be having trouble keeping his eyes open.

____________

“Mr. Wachowski. Care to enlighten me why you’re here?” Commander Walters returned the greeting. “Well, I live here,” Tom answered with a brief smile. “Green Hills is right over there, in case you weren’t aware. We’d appreciate it if the military wasn’t firing off weapons so close to town.” “A minor incident. We have it under control, and will be leaving shortly.” Sonic snorted and opened his mouth to shoot a bitter reply, but Tom stopped him with a hand. “Great! Well then, I’ll just pick up my kids, and we’ll pretend this never happened. We can tell the town you were cleaning up a rogue Eggman drone?” Tom suggested brightly. That got Commander Walters to crack a fake smile. “Ah. Yes, that should do nicely.” “Cool! Keeping it simple. I like it,” Tom breathed, clapping his hands together and turning slightly. “Honey, is kid number four safe to move?” “Four?” Commander Walters spoke in mildly confused protest. “Uhhhhh yeah. Two right here, and then two over there with Maddie makes four,” Tom returned easily, pointing to Sonic and Tails near him, and then Knuckles and Shadow as Maddie reached them. Commander Walters cleared his throat. “I’m sorry Mr. Wachowski, there seems to be a misunderstanding. Project Shadow is property of G.U.N.. I can’t allow you to take it.” “Huh,” Tom voiced, forcing a pause. “That’s strange. I thought slavery was illegal in the United States.” “You know what I mean.” “No, I actually don’t. Care to enlighten me how kidnapping a lost child and subjecting him to experimentation and indefinite imprisonment is something the government does?” Commander Walters’ expression twitched, and Tom started nodding his head. “Yeah, we figured some things out,” Tom confirmed the unspoken, possible question. It prompted Commander Walters to change tactics, shifting his shoulders and drawing a breath for a new conversation. “We’re simply containing a dangerous weapon. It’s standard procedure.” “Excuse me? The only dangerous weapon we’ve had to deal with recently was that moon slicing cannon your people built. The one that my kids stopped, because some nutcase stole it from you. Remember that?” “Didn’t he almost kill you in the process?” “Because he thought I was you!” Tom snapped. ”And seeing what you've done to him now I can see why his first reaction to seeing you was to fight!” “He's dangerous-” “He is a child!” Tom bellowed. “And if you would treat him as one, as a person, instead of a weapon he may have come to like you instead of wanting to kill you the moment he saw you! Now are you going to take my suggestion and get the hell out of here without a fuss, or are we going to have to do this the hard way?”

____________________

“I think he passed out.” Maddie faltered for a moment, but then pushed through, somewhat reassured since they were already in the clinic. “Alright. That’s okay, bring him over here,” Maddie directed, pointing to a shallow bathing station. “We need to get him clean. Can you get his gloves and shoes off?” she gave for further instruction before turning to her three boys. “Knuckles, take your brothers to the front room and call Uncle Wade to come help watch you three.” “But I wanna help!” Sonic protested, already having been dancing around their feet staying out of the way but also trying to stay as close as he could. “I know, but this is a little more intense than I’d like you to have to deal with,” Maddie assured, running her hand over his head. “I’ll be good, I’ll listen.” “No, Sonic,” Maddie stressed. “I’m gonna have to do surgery to fix his ribs, and I don’t want any of you to see that. Okay?” Sonic’s eyes went wide, and Maddie raised her hands to steady him if needed. It was a little blunt, but she didn’t have time to keep trying to convince him. “It’ll be okay, boys. I’ll take care of it. So just be good for Wade, alright?” “I’ll watch over them, mother,” Knuckles assured, moving forward with Tails already clinging to him and putting a hand around Sonic. “Come. Let us contact our Uncle, then construct a plan to welcome Shadow home.”

__________________________

Iiiiiii have a lot of scattered incoherent thoughts about Shadow getting adopted that I cannot figure out how to string together in a straight story, so I'm just doodling and writing the lil bits that pop into my head. 8 |

Something about Shadow trying to find his inhibitor rings again, but he only gets the 2 for his legs and G.U.N. finds the other 2 first, which leads to Shadow trying to steal them back but inevitably getting worn down by them and his own chaos energy beating him up. So he gives in and goes to Green Hills to find Sonic for help because "I thought that...since you wouldn't kill me… even after all I did, all I said, I thought that maybe…. maybe… you could help me"

This all took long enough that the Wachowski fam had enough time to talk things over about everything.

This also might be the 'I may have beat Shadow up a lil too much haha whoops' headspace 'cause he ended up with this list of injuries by the time the fam got him:

2 displaced broken ribs on the right (stabilized by Maddie with pins to be removed later)

broken right arm

broken left leg

injured right lung (causes wheezing mostly)

large laceration on right torso and right thigh

I'm still not sure if I want Walters to be the one there chasing Shadow or if it should be the other military lady and Walters helps stop them and let Tom and Maddie take Shadow 8 |

anyway post is getting way long so * finger guns and leaves ya'll with this *

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rj-cryptidian · 2 days ago

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Ok ok ok ok ok, I LOVE THIS. But I'm also gonna add a theory that I once shared on my old Tumblr back in 2016 (before the great fuckening 😔)

~~~~~

I need Cardassians to be bioluminescent. Like how some scorpions and lizards have markings that show up really bright under blacklight? I need Julian to be experimenting with light therapy or something for skin conditiona or headaches or depression, whatever idc, and Garak comes to the infirmary for a quick flirt chat, and he gets caught in the light of the UV emitter or whatever, and he's just positively LUMINOUS, and Julian just sort of stares and sputters like:

Garak: Doctor, it's rather rude to stare, let alone openly gawk...

Julian: Wh- oh! Sorry, I just...well... you're just...

Garak: I'm just what, Doctor?

Julian: Garak you're... luminous...

And he's just sort of, hypnotized for a second before Garak makes an excuse to leave and have a small fit in his shop, because Julian's never looked at him like that before, and oh lort his heart is fluttering.

If someone can draw this idea that would be AWESOME, but I have not the skill to do so. But yeah... shiny blue lizard man 🥰

here’s a thing I made based on this die another day garashir edit by @ectogeo-art ❤️❤️❤️❤️ I just fell in love with the concept!!!

+ blue sparkly alt because why not…

#ds9 garak #ds9 bashir #garashir #star trek ds9 #Cardassian headcanon #shiny lizard man #someone please draw this #i beg

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ninikrumbs · 2 days ago

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Somewhere in the multiverse

jjk men x fem reader.

"Need something, baby?"

The tone of his voice light and indulgent as it always was, not minding the happy distraction your presence brings.

Your head peaks from the doorway, a hesitant smile on your face as you watch you boyfriend work in his home office.

Shaking your head at his questioning haze, your cross the distance between you. He smiles fondly, realizing your intention, twisting his rolling chair a bit to the side to make space for you.

"Come here, pretty girl." He says when you draw near, pulling you down to plop down on his lap, arms immediately finding a home on your waist.

His familiar warmth and smell envelopes your senses imbuing your body with the affection and comfort you always craved from him. The contented noises you let out as you snuggle in the crook of his neck makes him chuckle in amusement, his gentle fingers tracing slow comforting circles down your back. "So my girl's just needy for me?"

You hum in response, looking absolutely cozy with your eyes closed, nose nuzzling his neck as you breath him in, hands resting on his chest.

His hands teasingly wander down your back to give your bum a light squeeze, not enough to startle you from you perfect position but enough to make you grumble, "Not that kind of needy."

With you lips right next to his neck, your breath tickles his skin. He huffs a laugh, "Oh, my bad. "

Not a hint of remorse in his voice though. His hands changes it course up to you hair, gently threading through it, making your eyes droop. You feel him press a kiss on the top of your head before resting his chin on it.

This is where you belong, you thought. At peace in his arms, away from the cruel horrors of the world even for just a moment. And you're r sure he shares you sentiment with how constantly he tries to shield you from the sometimes brutal realities he has to face.

If he could create a world where you would only know joy and happiness, he would. But Alas the monsters in this world constantly grow like weeds. The best he could do was to make sure they could never get to you. Not in this life or the next.

He hears you whisper his name and mumbling something he incoherent.

"What was that?"

"I said I feel bad for a version of me out there who doesn't have you."

He pulls away just a bit to look at your face, he wonders where you get such sudden and weird ideas yet he humors you regardless, "You don't have to worry your pretty little head about it."

"Why not?"

"Because," He raises your palm to his lips, placing a kiss filled with devotion, "I refuse to believe that there's a world where I don't have you. Any version of me won't allow it."

He says it with such conviction that it sounded like a fact, not an opinion or a thought and it makes you want to believe him.

Seemingly satisfied with his answer, you press youself flush against him once more, finding solace in his words and the beating heart underneath your hands.

"Now sleep, I'll wake you up once im done working some we can eat dinner together."

Your eyes flutter shut again and you fall asleep to the steady rhythm of his heart.

The next time you open your eyes it was to the dark cold ceiling of your bedroom. Your hands reach to the side, - searching, hoping, wishing -heart dropping as you merely felt the bitter emptiness of your comforter.

Sitting up on your bed, you look out of your window. The city lights blurred as hot tears clouded you vision. They fall rapidly down your cheeks, faster than you could wipe them away with your fists. Your throat clogging up with such gut wrenching emotion as you barely held back your sobs.

Your lips trembles, smiling bitterly, memories of another life running though the back of your head, "You're such a liar, you big dummy."

Suguru. Satoru. Kento. Hiromi.

a/n: should I make a happy part 2?

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satsugacafe · 3 days ago

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𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐃𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐀𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐧’𝐬 𝐅𝐚𝐜̧𝐚𝐝𝐞

➳❥ 𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: hellooo love ur blog <3 can I request hcs for soul society!aizen with a reader who isnt charmed easily and is a bit skeptical of his façade?

➳❥ 𝐀/𝐍: I was originally going to turn this into a fic (even though you asked for headcanons), but I was running out of creativity juices to keep it flowing :( It just sounded like it would be a great fic.

➳❥ 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐱𝐭: When you don’t fall for Aizen’s two-faced performance during his time in the Gotei 13

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐍𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

˚₊‧꒰ა From the moment you joined the Gotei 13, you found yourself on the outskirts of every conversation involving Aizen. His reputation preceded him—calm, composed, effortlessly kind, with a voice that could soothe even the most restless souls. But something about him didn’t sit right with you. It wasn’t that he was rude or ever out of place. Quite the opposite. He was too perfect.

˚₊‧꒰ა You’d seen captains and lieutenants before. They were powerful, commanding presences, many of them hardened by battle and responsibility. Yet Aizen…smiled too easily. It wasn’t that his kindness seemed forced; it was that it never wavered. No one was that consistently unshakeable. People had cracks, moments of frustration, and lapses in their carefully crafted facades. But him? Not once. And that was enough to make you wary.

˚₊‧꒰ა He noticed you watching him. Of course he did. Aizen was a man who missed nothing. But he never confronted it directly. He didn’t need to. He was too skilled at playing the game of subtlety. Instead, he’d catch your eye in meetings, offer a faint smile when your gazes met across the training grounds, and always, always address you with a tone that felt meticulously chosen.

˚₊‧꒰ა “You seem thoughtful,” he said one day, catching you in a quiet corridor after a meeting had ended. His voice was light and conversational, but there was something about the way his gaze lingered on you that made you feel like you were being measured. “Do you often get lost in your thoughts like that?”

˚₊‧꒰ა You weren’t in the habit of being easily charmed by flowery words or gentle tones. You shrugged, not bothering to hide your suspicion. “Only when things don’t add up.”

˚₊‧꒰ა His smile never faltered, but there was a flicker of interest in his eyes. “And what, may I ask, isn’t adding up for you?”

˚₊‧꒰ა You knew better than to voice your thoughts outright. Aizen wasn’t the type of man you could accuse without solid evidence. He was too clever, too calculated. So instead, you shrugged again. “That would be telling.”

˚₊‧꒰ა It wasn’t the response he was expecting, and for a brief moment, the mask slipped. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly, his expression sharpening before he smoothed it over again. “Curious,” he murmured, almost to himself. “You’re not like the others.”

˚₊‧꒰ა His words hung in the air, and you knew he wasn’t talking about your combat skills or your rank within the Gotei 13. He was talking about your mind. About how you weren’t so easily swayed by his charm, how you saw the cracks in his otherwise perfect veneer.

˚₊‧꒰ა After that, he started to take a subtle interest in you. Nothing overt, nothing that would raise suspicion among your peers. But you noticed the way he seemed to gravitate toward you during group discussions, how his gaze would linger on you just a fraction longer than anyone else’s.

˚₊‧꒰ა “Do you not trust me?” he asked one day, his tone light and amused as if the question were a joke. But you could see the weight behind his words. He was testing you.

˚₊‧꒰ა You didn’t smile. “I don’t distrust you. But I also don’t trust anyone blindly.”

˚₊‧꒰ა He laughed. “A wise approach. Trust, after all, is a dangerous thing to give freely.”

˚₊‧꒰ა There were moments when you could feel him trying to draw you in, to make you let your guard down. He’d offer small compliments, casual remarks about your skill or your insight. But you never gave him the reaction he was looking for.

˚₊‧꒰ა “You must think me terribly boring,” he said once, with that same faint smile. “Always so serious, always so composed.”

˚₊‧꒰ა “No,” you replied, meeting his gaze head-on. “I think you’re too composed.”

˚₊‧꒰ა He chuckled at that, but there was no humour in it. “And what would you have me do? Shout? Lose my temper? Would that make me more trustworthy in your eyes?”

˚₊‧꒰ა “It would make you more human,” you said simply.

˚₊‧꒰ა That response seemed to catch him off guard. His smile faltered for the briefest moment before he recovered. “Ah, but aren’t we all striving to rise above our baser instincts? Isn’t that what it means to be a Shinigami?”

˚₊‧꒰ა You didn’t miss the irony in his words. He spoke of control, of discipline, but there was a glint in his eyes that suggested something far more dangerous beneath the surface.

˚₊‧꒰ა Over time, your interactions became a dance of sorts. A careful balancing act where neither of you showed your full hand. He’d make a remark, and you’d deflect. He’d offer a compliment; you’d question the intent behind it. It was a game, and you both knew it.

˚₊‧꒰ა “You know,” he said one day, as the two of you stood on the balcony overlooking the Seireitei, “I admire your caution. It’s rare to find someone who doesn’t take things at face value.”

˚₊‧꒰ა “Is that so?” you replied, not bothering to hide the scepticism in your voice.

˚₊‧꒰ა He smiled again, that same enigmatic smile that never quite reached his eyes. “Indeed. It’s…refreshing.”

˚₊‧꒰ა Despite your reservations, you couldn’t deny that Aizen was fascinating. There was something undeniably enigmatic about him, something that drew people in despite themselves. But you refused to be one of those people. You refused to let yourself be lulled into a false sense of security.

˚₊‧꒰ა “Do you ever wonder why people are so quick to trust?” he asked one day, his tone almost philosophical. “Why do they cling to the idea of certainty, even when it’s an illusion?”

˚₊‧꒰ა “Because it’s easier,” you replied. “It’s easier to believe in someone than to question everything they say.”

˚₊‧꒰ა He nodded as if he’d expected that answer. “And you? You prefer the harder path?”

˚₊‧꒰ა “I prefer the truth,” you said firmly.

˚₊‧꒰ა His gaze lingered on you for a long moment, and you could see the gears turning in his mind. He was calculating, always calculating, but you never gave him the satisfaction of knowing what you were thinking.

˚₊‧꒰ა There were moments when you wondered if he found your scepticism amusing, or if it frustrated him. Perhaps it was both. After all, he was used to people falling in line, to people believing in his carefully crafted persona. But you? You saw through the cracks.

˚₊‧꒰ა “It must be exhausting,” he mused one day, “to always be so guarded.”

˚₊‧꒰ა “It must be exhausting,” you countered, “to always wear a mask.”

˚₊‧꒰ა That made him pause, and for the briefest moment, you saw something shift in his expression. But then the mask was back in place, and he offered you another one of his enigmatic smiles. “Touché.”

˚₊‧꒰ა Despite everything, you couldn’t deny that there was a strange sort of mutual respect between you. He recognised your intelligence, your unwillingness to be swayed. And you recognised the danger lurking beneath his polished exterior.

˚₊‧꒰ა In another life, you might have trusted him. You might have even admired him. But in this life, you knew better. Aizen Sousuke was a man of many layers, and you had no intention of peeling them back only to find yourself ensnared in his web.

˚₊‧꒰ა “You’ll never trust me, will you?” he asked one day, his tone almost wistful.

˚₊‧꒰ა “No,” you said without hesitation. “But I’ll respect you for what you are.”

˚₊‧꒰ა His smile that day was different. Softer, more genuine. But you knew better than to believe it was real. Because with Aizen, nothing ever was.

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @stygianoir @edensrose

#˚₊‧꒰ა satsugacafé ໒꒱ ‧₊˚#aizen sosuke x reader #aizen sosuke imagine #aizen sosuke headcanons #aizen sosuke scenario #aizen x reader #aizen headcanons #bleach headcanons #bleach x reader #bleach imagines #bleach x y/n #bleach x you

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