#i really like the flames of love and lets break the rules too

[echobx]

Twin Flame 2 - pervy!bsf!JJ × pervy!bsf!fem!reader

summary: y/n is indecisive about what she wants and tries to blame JJ

word count: 2.3k

warnings: bratty!reader, angsty feels for JJ, miscommunication ig, lying (to the pogues), smut, talk of mutual masturbation, p in v (unprotected), backshots, orgasm denial

author's note: as promised here's part 2 and bc I couldn't fit all of what I needed in here, I'm gonna do a 3rd one on top... what can I say, I'm a sucker for this man

series masterlist ♡ part 1

   Exchanging used underwear in secrecy. That's the best way you could describe the “situation” you had with JJ. 

   You hadn't really managed to do much that first day, not wanting to get caught by your friends and having to explain it all. Maybe you were both more scared of their judgment for how you two acted than for breaking the rules. They were stupid rules anyway, not holding up any weight anymore after the group finally consisted of two couples, Kiara and whatever it was that JJ and you would maybe, possibly, potentially become. 

   You weren't sure if you wanted more than just hanging out that ended with his fingers up your cunt and yours wrapped around his dick. An occasional make out session if needed, but you weren't picky about it. 

   It wasn't the classic get up. No secret love, at least you told yourself that, because you didn't even know what love was supposed to feel like, never having felt it. You just knew that kissing JJ made your head spin, and you felt nauseous afterward. But not in a sick way, not like when you did after drinking one too many stale beers. No, it was more like your stomach wanted to turn itself inside out and the feeling could only be remedied by his touch, by the feel of his lips pressed against you. 

   There were silent boundaries that JJ wasn't about to cross without asking first, either, but he was also too afraid to pose the question. He looked at you with wonder, more so now than ever before, and maybe that’s why it was so difficult. Before the “agreement” he could make jokes about you sucking him off instead of paying for your weed. Or him going down on you for a pack of cold ones. 

   However, that ease had shifted drastically with the moment you had pulled him into the spare room that day. From then on his whole body was only craving one thing, to hear you try to stay quiet for him and to feel your soft touch around his cock; to watch you watch him as he licked his fingers, cleaning off the last drops of your cum; and maybe even more so, to watch you do the same with him. 

   Head and hand were close enough alphabetically for him already, so it didn't make sense to him why he had such a hard time asking for more from you, and granting it in return. 

   “My parents aren't home this weekend,” you told him while getting dressed, pulling your skirt up but leaving your slip lying damp on his bed. 

   “Is that an invitation?” JJ cocked his brow, and you tilted your head to the side. 

   “Sometimes I think you’re scared of coming inside.” The double entendre didn't get lost on him. 

   “I just mean, we've never done that, is all,” he shrugged. 

   “You've been in my room more times than I can count.” 

   “Not like that,” he shook his head two times, exhaling loudly before getting up and picking up a fresh pair of underwear to put on. 

   “Maybe if you had asked earlier,” you shrugged. 

   “Are we still just talking about the room?” 

   “I don't know, JJ, are we?” you huffed, picking up your purse and walking out on him. 

   Your demeanor had become increasingly harder to read for him, and your growing usage of quips and sarcasm, as well as words he had to look up, wasn't helping either. He knew it was just who you are, not your intention to confuse him more. Yet it didn't help much. 

   The next day, he tried his best to not gaze at you, instead keeping his eyes pinned to the ground to not get lost again. He got lost more and more these days. Thinking about letting you ride him, fucking your throat, bending you over; you name it, he thought of it. He went to sleep thinking about you with a growing semi that wouldn't die down unless you took care of it, and woke up with a boner that grew increasingly more painful. To him, it seemed like the only options would be to just be able to fuck you awake or fall asleep with your tight cunt wrapped around him. 

   “How do you ask someone to go down on you?” your voice ripped him out of his thoughts, but he refused to look at you still. 

   “Why? You got someone new?” Kie poked your shoulder, a cheeky grin on her face, and you smiled politely, keeping the facade. 

   “I wouldn't call it that, we're just hooking up- Well, not so much that either,” you sighed and suddenly all your friends had their ears perked, all but one. 

   “Sounds confusing,” Sarah huffed, her legs draped over John B’s on the couch. 

   “I don't know if it is my fault for not suggesting it or his for not wanting to, I guess,” you roll your eyes. 

   “Maybe he doesn't know how to ask either?” JJ noted, looking up for just a second to see them all look at him for a short moment. 

   “What are you and this guy doing?” Kie inquired. 

   “All we do is make out and then get each other off. We've not even fucked yet, and I'm really starting to question if he just thinks I'm ugly or something. Or maybe I'm just so shit at hand jobs that he doesn't even want to do more,” you complained, and this time JJ stared you down as if you had just announced that you ran over a bunch of toddlers. Maybe even worse, he knew he could find some fucked up excuse for why you would need to run over babies. That was just normal, though, everyone was down bad for their best friend. 

   “Maybe you should tell him that, instead of us,” he hissed, pissed at just the thought that you could think yourself to be not enough to grant the pleasures he wanted to give you, no matter how scared he was. 

   “JJ’s right, for once,” Pope spoke up, oblivious to the tension between the two of you. “Open and clear communication always works out.” 

   “Since when are you such an expert on sex?” JJ huffed, which landed him a kick against the knee by Kiara, and a glare from Cleo, who was playing with her knife. It wasn't a smart move on his end, but he had other things to worry about. 

   “I don't think he knows English as much as he should,” you sighed, finally looking away from JJ, who gulped at the insult.

   John B leaned forward with a mischievous grin. “Don't tell me you're fucking that Italian exchange student.” 

   “What? No. That's not what I meant. And he's so not my type either,” you felt affront to the suggestion. “Also, way out of my league, that one, even if I was interested.”

   “Not fucked up enough for you?” JJ quipped, and you shot him a glare. 

   “Apparently, I like mine dumb,” you hit him back. The tension grew worse with the second, and you knew the only way to get rid of it was to let him ruin you, but you didn't want to give him the satisfaction. 

   “Okay, well, just talk to the guy. And if he doesn't wanna go down on you, let alone refuse to fuck you, drop his balls in a boiling pot of water and then drop him,” Cleo suggested and Kiara agreed with her. 

   “Yeah, and give me his address, so I can put chili powder in all his underwear.”

   The discussion died down after that, but JJ yet again refused to look at you, but this time not because he was too infatuated with you. He was angry, sad, hurt, confused. His chest felt narrower than usual, as if he was having an anxiety attack, but worse. And every time your voice nestled itself in his ear, it got worse, to a point where he pushed his chair back and stomped inside without losing another word. 

   However, you didn't think much of it, knowing how quick tempered he was it would also not be the best idea to meet him inside. 

   When you got home, your parents were already asleep. You got ready, taking a shower and putting your hair up before lying down to sleep. 

   At last your quiet was disturbed by your window being pushed open and the sound of heavy boots on hardwood flooring filled the room. 

   “I’m trying to sleep,” you murmured. 

   “I don't care,” JJ growled right next to your face. “Get up!” 

   “What's your problem?” you hissed at him while sitting up, the tiny nightgown you were wearing made his pants grow impossibly tighter.

   “You're a real bitch. Not saying shit to me and then spilling it all to them? Making me look even worse than I already do? Making fun of me?” JJ was seething, and the fact that you didn't show remorse made it worse. 

   “You don't know what you want!” you yell silently, not wanting to wake your parents. 

   “Has it ever crossed your fucking mind that I'm trying to be respectful here?” You were honestly too stunned to speak. After all, this had only started because he really wasn't respectful, at all. “Don't you think I would've fucked you any way possible by now if it was my choice? Don't you think that it tears me apart on the inside to try and not fuck this up by being me?” 

   “Oh yeah?” you huffed, and he ran his hand over his face, nodding. “JJ, I don't want you to not be you. Why would I want that? If I wanted to keep on masturbating for the rest of my fucking life, I wouldn't have fucking proposed this arrangement.” 

   “Oh-” the realization hit him like a ton of bricks. “Well… you know… so…”

   “Not so good with English, just like I said,” you shook your head and his hand shot out to hold you by your throat, not restricting air, but not letting you move either. 

   “You're such a fucking brat, do you know that?” He dipped his head and forced a harsh kiss on your lips. Your hands came up to his pants, fumbling to open the belt and button before he shoved you to lie on your bed. 

   “You wanted me to come by? Expected it?” He sounded dangerous like that, but you liked it, like knowing that he wouldn't actually hurt you, but just play it enough to please you. Or, just enough to “fix your attitude.” 

   “I don't know what you mean,” you said sweetly as he took off his clothes. 

   “That thing you're wearing,” he pointed at the mesh fabric. “Can see all through that. Not something you put on usually.” 

   “Are you complaining about it?” You didn't quite understand what he was getting at. 

   “Hmmm… no. Take it off anyway,” he ordered, and you did. 

   No matter how much he wanted to touch you, feel the round of your tits in his palms, squeeze them, twist your nipples and suck on them, he refrained. He wanted to punish you for playing with him, more. 

   “Lie down,” he pointed at the length of the bed, and you placed yourself on it, head in the pillows, but he shook his head no. “Face down.”

   First you thought about protesting, but you decided against it, turning around and pressing your head into your pillow while your ass was up in the air, the same way your ex had preferred. 

   JJ smacked your ass, and you winced, the sound being smothered by your pillow. 

   “My parents,” you reminded him quickly, and he chuckled. 

   “You better keep quiet then.” 

   JJ didn't really know what he was doing, he only knew that he needed to do it properly and in a way that would have you begging for more, just for him to deny it then. It was a sick plan by an even sicker man. He didn't praise you, didn't talk to you. Kept comments to himself, like the fact that you were so incredibly wet for him, although he hadn't really done anything to you yet. Or when he pushed inside you for the first time and groaned at how tight you were, the perfect fit for him. 

   His first thrust was torturously slow. He wanted to feel you out, every miniscule part of your insides, and imprint it in his mind. How you whined and begged for him to move faster, and to touch you, anything really. 

   “This is just for me, princess, remember?” he taunted after lying down on top of you, nestled deep in your guts. His hands, one on your neck pushing you down, the other under you, pushing against your stomach to make it even tighter for him. Slow deep thrusts did the trick, but as soon as he felt you get closer, pussy starting to flutter around him, he got up and changed his technique. Going faster, nearly coming already, but he paced himself. 

   “JJ, please. Fuck, please,” you begged as you neared the second attempt. 

   “What? Do you want my cum that badly, baby?” he rasped, and you nodded into the pillow. 

   “Need you.” 

   What you hadn't expected was for him to pull out almost completely, starting to jerk himself off while his throbbing tip was still inside you. 

   “JJ, please,” you were close to tears, needing your release as much as air to breathe, and yet he denied you. 

   “Want my cum, baby?” he smirked like the devil, not that you could've seen by the way he pushed you down.

   “Give it to me, please, J,” you whined pathetically.

   As soon as the words had left you, he pushed inside again, spilling himself into your guts and groaning loudly while his dick twitched, and he fucked his seed deeper into you. 

   Maybe you should've felt more used after, but you understood why he had done it. What you didn't understand was that he left as soon as he was done, only a quick, “I hope you're on something,” before vanishing into the night and leaving you behind. 

read part 3 here

please don't copy and/or post my work onto other platforms! ~e©ho

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[comicaurora]

do you have any tips on writing soft magic systems? I only ever see them talked about when people are comparing it to hard magic systems or criticising it, which is a shame because I love systems where magic is just in the background being unimportant, with implied rules that will never be explained

god I wrote up like eight paragraphs of explanation and I was really working out some cool stuff there and then the app glitched and destroyed it all and I'm so upset

Unfortunately this reduces to a previous problem, which is "figure out how Tolkien did it and then do that."

Middle Earth is laden with magic. Hobbits being good at hiding is magic. There's a random throne in the ruins at the end of Fellowship that lets whoever sits in it see literally the entire world, and that's hella magic. Aragorn radiates One True King magic and occasionally heals people with a touch. Galadriel's mirror lets people see any point in time, past or future. Gandalf knows several spells, but most of the time he's doing less granular stuff by making lights or small fires or going all Servant Of The Secret Fire Wielder Of The Flame Of Anor etc etc. Elves are inherently so magical that the words of their language are never forgotten by anyone who hears them, the laws of physics don't apply to them, their havens are magically pleasant and beautiful, and the planet itself is magical for them - flat for the elves, round for everybody else.

The benefit of a soft magic system is that it produces a feeling in the characters and audience that the world is vast, wonderful and unknowable. It's at its best when it can answer why, but not how.

Why did the old empire of men have a throne that let you see the entire world? That makes sense! It's hugely tactically advantageous! HOW did they get the damn thing? No idea, doesn't matter, they clearly made it work somehow because the throne's right there. Why does Galadriel's mirror give you limited, randomized omniscience? Because while it's a useful tool if you can use it, seeing the future is a dicey and weird game, and the future can change if someone knows it's coming. HOW does riverwater in a birdbath do that? No idea.

Soft magic systems start running into difficulties when the writer needs to decide how it can or can't solve a given situation, which is a very common issue in storytelling, a format almost entirely centered on problems and solutions. For hard magic systems with clear parameters on what is and isn't possible, this is comparatively quite easy. The wizard can't magic this problem away because-

They're out of spell slots :(

They don't know a specific spell that can do that specific thing

There's another caster nearby stopping them

The object that lets them do magic isn't working

They need to speak words/do gestures/use materials to cast, and they can't for whatever reason

There's something "antimagic" around stopping them

Etc etc. The possibilities are easy to run through, because the "how" is clearly defined, and can be negated into a "how NOT." If magic uses spell slots, stop the characters using it by taking those slots away. If magic needs a material focus, break or destroy it. This prevents magic from feeling like an unsatisfying "a wizard did it" fix for all difficulties because the wizards can only do specific things under specific circumstances.

Soft magic systems can contrive answers to this too, but it can be a bit tricky to justify, and if it's Too Convenient it can feel like the magic system really just does what the writer needs it to do. When asked "why can't magic solve this problem?" soft magic systems can answer in several ways:

Too tired, sorry :( magic is Taxing and stuff so the caster can tip over whenever's convenient

They're in a Bad Vibes zone that's hindering their ability to cast because soft magic can be impeded by soft problems like "somebody was very mean here once"

That specific magic is tied to a specific location, like a magical elf forest, and doesn't work outside of it because it's intrinsic to the place and can't be replicated

There's another magical being around and their kung-fu is more powerful

These explanations work, but that's conditional on the story not making the audience think the magic SHOULD work in this situation, and this is entirely based on what's been established in the story thus far. If the wizard has been able to fly up until now, parking the gang at the bottom of the cliff and saying "sorry, fly machine broke" feels contrived. But if we've only ever seen other, intrinsically magical beings fly, the audience is unlikely to expect that the party's humble wizard will suddenly bust out a set of feathery wings as a gift from baby jesus himself. On the writing side, it's really a matter of feeling it out and making sure nothing feels too jarring - if the character who's previously displayed a certain specific space of abilities suddenly does something completely unrelated (like going from clairvoyance to slinging fireballs, or from a healing touch to earthbending) that feels inconsistent AND it teaches the audience that this soft magic system is softer than they realized, and can then make it much harder for the writer to then convince them that this caster CAN'T spontaneously manifest a power or gimmick that'll save them. But if the magical characters or objects operate within a specific space - one character that specializes in fire, one object that specializes in remote viewing, one artifact that lets its holder control the winds - then the audience will expect and accept things that fit in those broad, soft categories without speculating too much on the underlying "how" of their mechanics.

But the temptation to explain "how" is very strong for writers, and soft magic systems especially have trouble with this, because soft magic systems start calcifying into fragmentary hard systems when they're forced to explain "how". It locks in a hard-defined axiom that can be logically extrapolated. Because a soft system is not DESIGNED for that kind of internal logic, doing that will usually cause axiomatic collisions as they contradict one another. If a hard system is a crisp, geometric crystalline structure where any tangent line drawn through it will intersect cleanly with other lines in very predictable ways, adding "how"s to a soft magic system is like drawing tangent lines through a bowl of pudding - you're gonna get a lot of intersections in awkward places.

To pull an example out of absolutely nowhere, if a soft system without clear rules establishes something like "this spell can be used to summon an object towards the caster, but it DOES NOT WORK on living things", there are a number of questions that can become relevant:

Who made that spell to have those limitations?

Why can't WE make spells that DON'T have that limitation?

How is the spell defining "living things"? Would it work on a plant or a skeleton or a piercing in someone's body?

Why did you let this character use it on a living thing anyway, joanne?

In a lot of soft systems that try to lock in hard spell parameters, "who made these spells" and "why can't WE make spells" become the first and most obvious axiomatic clash. If magic can be created to do what the caster wants, why and how does that work, and why can't WE do it? This forces the writer to come up with an explanation to solve the clash without letting the protagonists make up whatever spells they want, therefore solving all plot problems forever - sometimes something like "the inventors of spells were intrinsically magical beings, like elves or dragons or whatever, and thus we ordinary scrub mortals can't make new ones." That's a functional explanation, but it reduces to a previous problem again - that this hard-ish magic system was created by someone with access to an unstructured soft system.

In a soft magic system, the only answer to the question "how does this magical thing work" is "because magic." If any other explanation is needed, things rapidly collapse into hard lines and axioms and covering for edge cases. How can elves run on powder snow, shoot targets in the dark and see for hundreds of miles? They're magical. Does that mean they can fly like a balrog or sling fire like gandalf or control weather like saruman maybe can? No, of course not, that's not their kind of magic and we have no reason to expect it from them. They're just magic. Magic means a lot of different things, and in a soft system the audience has to operate based on vibes rather than rules.

This can be difficult to balance. For instance, Star Wars has a soft system in The Force, and if you squint, every single movie and show uses it differently. It's not super disruptive to the audience's immersion because it's never framed like a Hard System with Hard Rules and it almost never pulls something out of COMPLETELY nowhere, but if you look at what it does from movie to movie and then show to show, it expands from "influence the wills of the weak-minded", "seeing the future a little bit" and "force choking" to "general telekinesis" and "limited telepathy" to "FUCKING LIGHTNING FROM THE HANDS MAN" which is a hell of a twist the first time you see it, to some even more buckwild stuff in the two different animated Clone Wars (like Mace Windu fighting an entire droid army Samurai Jack style and using the force to pull every bolt out of one of them at once, or the planet with the living incarnations of the Light and Dark Side) and the explanation never goes further than "The Force is magic, it's in everything, people who are good at The Force can use it to do a buncha stuff." It's not consistent, it doesn't have rules, but the audience accepts that Force users can just kind of do stuff that fits the Vibes of the stuff it's already been shown it can do. And as SOON as they tried to say "The Force is strong in people who have LOTS OF MIDICHLORIANS" everybody hated it, because it gave us a "how" answer to a question nobody wanted to ask and it made this pervasive, wonderous, soft magic system that Surrounds And Binds Us Luminous Beings Are We into "we are space wizards because we contain an above-average number of bugs."

As a chronic worldbuilder myself, I absolutely understand the impulse to explain and overexplain and lock in the Hows and the Whys, but as far as I can figure it, soft magic systems live and die on the writer's ability to restrain themselves from saying "how." The answer is "magic." The rest is just writing the story in such a way that "magic" doesn't become plot-breaking.

[clubforfrogs]

Slip Ups (Part 2) Poly Marauders x Reader

Quick note: Omg I can’t believe I’ve already finished my first fic. It’s obviously a pretty small one (only two parts) but i’m so excited that people actually seem to like it! If you have requests please send them- I need ideas!

This part is about 2.3k words- I hope you enjoy!

•

Earlier, sneaking around and breaking rules with the marauders sounded fun. Running away from teachers, giggling amongst each other, and thinking of new pranks when inspiration struck. Really, who wouldn’t want to prance around with Hogwarts’ hottest group of guys? But right now, looking at that same group standing in front of you, you wanted to be swallowed whole by the couch you were sitting on. The boys had been about to sneak out and continue on their adventure without you, but somehow spotted you before they actually left.

“Hey, are you guys heading out?” You winced at how lame you sounded as James replied, “Uh, yeah? I invited you earlier today. We thought you’d gone to sleep already, but this is perfect! Now we can all head out!” Your stomach sank at the excited nod the three of them shared. There was no way you could just ditch them without hurting their feelings. You slowly heaved yourself up from the couch and made your way over to them. 

“James’ invisibly cloak is probably too small for all of us, so we’ll need to split up into pairs. Who here’s good at the disillusionment charm?” Remus asked. James shook his head first, “I’ve only casted it a handful of times, I’m no good.” Sirius looked at you and Remus sheepishly, “Same here, Y/n, gorgeous, love of my life, please tell me you know how to cast it?” Your face felt hot at Sirius’ words, but before you could answer James interrupted, “Hold on Sirius, I wouldn’t mind huddling close under the invisibility cloak with Y/n.” He sent a wink your way and you were pretty sure your face would burst into flames at any moment. Before anyone else could get in another remark, you spoke, “I’m pretty good with the charm. So Remus and I will use the charm while you two,” you pointed at James and Sirius, “use the cloak?”

Remus nodded in agreement, “Yeah, that should work, now let’s head out. We’ve got a long night ahead of us.” James and Sirius threw the cloak over themselves and immediately disappointed. You and Remus looked at each other. You watched as Remus cast the charm on himself, and you watched as he disappeared. The only evidence that he was there was the faintest outline around him. You took a deep breath, then did the same, muttering the incantation and finally disappearing. You heard a low whistle, but couldn’t see who did it. You were immensely grateful at that moment that none of them could see you flush red. “Ok, let’s head out. I trust that you, Sirius and James, know the plan. Darling, we’ll fill you in on the way.”

Your mouth dropped open as you all headed out of the common room. The entire student population at Hogwarts described Remus as the shy, stoic type. All of that seemingly disappeared from his demeanor the second he started talking to you or the other marauders. Did that mean he liked you too? Did that mean all of them did? You shook your head as if to clear the thought. Stay focused L/n, don’t be ridiculous. A low whisper broke you out of your all-over the place thoughts, “Make sure we stick together, splitting off from each other just makes us more likely to get caught.” Remus reasoned. You agreed with his thinking, but were slightly surprised when you felt a hand grab your own. You let out a squeal of shock, then quickly slapped a hand over your face. “Sorry about that,” Remus adjusted his grip on your hands, so they were now intertwined, “hopefully we’ll be able to stick together more easily now.” You quickly wondered how he was able to find you so quickly, but brushed it off as him having a keen eye. “Oh, yeah. Makes sense.” Your voice wavered a bit, but if any of them noticed, they didn’t say. Another voice spoke. It was James, surprising you with how close he was, “Alright, let’s head to the snake pit.”

Nerves churned in your stomach as you made your way to the Slytherin common room. Yeah, that was definitely the reason your stomach was in a knot, certainly not the fact that one of your longtime crushes, Remus Lupin, was holding your hand. Remus, feeling the way your hand tensed, mistook your infatuation for the fear of being caught, “Hey, don’t worry, this is a pretty mild prank compared to some of our others. James wouldn’t have invited you if this could get you into serious trouble. You want me to walk you through the prank? Would that help?” You couldn’t help but melt a little at his concern. “No, it’s alright, I think I’d rather be surprised by your guys’ utter genius.” You said the last words with obvious sarcasm, as Remus let out a noise of disbelief, “I’ll choose to ignore that last bit. But good choice, you’re going to love it. Oh, and would you look at that, we’ve arrived.”

You looked and around and realized Remus was, in fact, correct. It was colder down in the dungeons compared to the Gryffindor common room. You wrapped one arm around yourself as Remus led you toward the sound of James and Sirius’ footsteps. Sirius, having heard the pair of you approach, told each marauder where to go and what to do, “and you, my dear Y/n, get to sit back and enjoy the show.” You waited as they all dispersed. You looked around nervously, praying that prefects didn’t decide to do check in over heard for the next few minutes. But you also couldn’t deny the adrenaline rush you were feeling. You had never really been a strictly “by the rules” student, but you’d also never snuck out to prank Slytherins in the middle of the night. An out of breath silhouette of Remus stood in front of you, you could hear from the way he spoke that he was smiling, “Now we get to watch it all unfold,” 

He led you to the now open door of the Slytherin common room. It was absolutely nerve-wracking being in there, but the way Remus grabbed your hand again made you feel a lot a little better. Suddenly, you heard a commotion, and a group of four Slytherins came scrambling into their common room. You recognized them as students that would constantly pick of the first years and make fun of any other wizards and witches for not being pureblood. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel any satisfaction from seeing their panicked faces, and you strained to hear their conversation, “Did you see that?” a tall and skinny wizard said. Another wizard who looked almost identical aside from his much lighter hair responded, “Of course I did! I didn’t think ghosts could get into our common rooms! But did you see that thing? It was all bloody and mangled and terrifying.” The first boy spoke up again, “Of course I saw it! And it doesn’t look like any of the ghosts here at Hogwarts. We’re so fucked!” The group of them looked positively frightened, before a shorter boy who hadn’t said anything yet pointed to the dorm stairs and spoke in a shaky voice, “Guys…”

A pale man floated through the air towards the boys. His hair was flat and greasy, his neck bore long gashes caked with blood, and he looked angry. Remus squeezed your hand as if to reassure you that this was all fake, and you were immensely grateful for it. You watched as the boys ran around the common room like headless chickens, attempting to flee from the ghost. The tall boy with light hair had been cornered by the ghost, and whimpered. It was hard to make out in the dimness, but you could see how his pyjama bottoms started to darken, indicating that, “Oh Merlin, he just pissed himself,” you whispered to Remus. The two of you cracked up, while trying to be as silent as possible. You were laughing so hard that you didn’t notice when the prank had ended, not until Remus calmed himself and muttered, “Let’s get out of here.” 

The two made your way towards the Gryffindor common room. You were walking at a nice leisurely pace until your ears picked up on a pair of footsteps that didn’t belong to you or Remus. You stopped Remus, asking, “Do you hear that?” The both of you listened, but Remus was the one to catch sight of Filch as he turend the corner, walking down the same hallway you and Remus were in. Now, Remus and you were still disillusioned, but neither of you were willing to take the chance of being caught. Remus grabbed you and pulled you into a nearby broom closet quietly. The two of you were both breathing heavily as you strained to hear if Filch was gone or not. Your thoughts didn’t stay of Filch for long, however. They were pulled to Remus’ strong chest now pushed flush to yours. His arms hanging at his sides, but were still so close to you. Remus had apparently noticed the same thing, because you could feel his breath hitch. You desperately didn’t want the atmosphere to turn awkward, so you whispered to him, “How long do you think we’ll be-“ he interrupted you. “You didn’t want to come out with us tonight, why?” 

His tone wasn’t accusatory, it was just matter-of-fact. Regardless, you started to stumble over your words, “What? I didn’t- I never said, that. You just.. read the situation-“ he cut you off again. “Just be honest. Is it because your uncomfortable with us? Do you not like breaking rules? What is it?” His tone was so desperate, you just wanted to tell him everything. Tell him how the reason you didn’t want to go out with them was because you were so horribly in love with each of them, even though they were already in the perfect relationship. Your silence made the air in the closet feel heavy. Suddenly, you felt Remus move his hands to your hips. It made you feel dizzy and hot and wonderful at the same time. He leaned down, “Or did you not want to come out with us because of how you feel towards us?” His words shocked you. “Look, I’m not trying to mess you guys up. I know you’re already committed to each other. I swear I’ll distance myself and leave you guys alone.” 

Remus spoke quickly, “No! that’s not what I want- not what we want.” “What? What are you talking about?” you questioned, trying to stop the feeling of hope blooming in your chest. “James, Sirius, and I speak about you all the time. Those ‘jokes’ we make in class? That’s just how we feel. We want you, if you are willing, to be with us.” If you thought Remus’ hands on your hips made you feel things, his confession doubled those feelings. “Really? You’re not kidding? Because that would break my heart.” Remus wrapped his arms around you and pulled you impossibly closer to him, “I swear to you that I am telling the truth.” 

Giddiness overtook you. Without thinking, you grabbed Remus’ face and pulled him towards you, smashing your lips onto his. The kiss was full of all your pent up longing for this exact moment. All of the times they’d make flirty comments toward you without you knowing how to respond, all of those moments you wished you could just fit in to their world. But right here, kissing Remus, you finally felt like it was a really possibility. You both pulled back, gasping for air and grinning like idiots. Remus dragged you back to the Gryffindor common room excitedly, the pair of you practically skipping your way there. 

Inside, you found a worried looking James and Sirius. “Where have the two of you been? We thought you guys had been caught!” Sirius rambled. You looked at Remus, confirming your prior situation hadn’t just been a figment of your imagination. He nodded and you with a smile and you launched yourself at Sirius, connecting your lips. He huffed in surprise before eagerly retuning the kiss. This kiss was wilder than your kiss with Remus. Sirius tasted slightly of fire whiskey, so you assumed he and James had celebrated their prank on their way back from the dungeons. You heard the disbelieving chuckle from James as he talked with Remus, “I take it you told her then?” You broke a part from Sirius and looked at James, “He might’ve.” 

James walked over to you with the brightest smile you’ve ever seen. Your lips met and finally everything was complete. You had the three men you’ve been pining over for forever all to yourself, and you didn’t want to waste a single moment with them. You flung your arms around James’ neck and pulled his head even closer to yours. He obliged you as he smiled into your lips and kissed you sweetly. When you both finally came up for air, you looked around at Remus, Sirius, and then back to James. They all looked back at you with the same excitement you were sure was displayed plainly across your face. The look in their eyes was the only confirmation you needed: this was going to work. All of you fear and worries surrounding whether they really liked you or if this would last disappeared. They were going to do everything in their power to make this work, and you would do the same. 

The four of you went up to the boys’ dorm and flipped down onto one of their beds. It was a tangled mess of limbs, but no one cared. You used Sirius as a pillow while James laid on your stomach and Remus was lying by your side. You were pretty sure life didn’t get any better than this.

•

Thank you for reading, and again, send me some requests! I’d love to hear them💕

[moonstruckme]

feels odd being a marauder fan asking for tasm Peter content but i couldnt help myself <//3 if ur still taking requests id love to see ur take on Peter and the art students meet cute (or not so cute meeting) I always wondered how two vastly different people would even meet lol

Thanks for requesting gorgeous!

cw: mention of animal cruelty (not present in the story)

tasm!Peter Parker x artist!reader ♡ 831 words

Peter wonders if he should put on his mask. 

He’s not really sure what the protocol is for non-mutant criminal activity that makes its way into his daily life. But he’d only been trying to lock up the lab for the night, and there you are, spray painting all over the glass panes dividing the workspaces. 

“Hey!” He decides to forgo the mask when you direct your can scary close to a container of samples. “Don’t do that, you’ll ruin them.” 

You turn slowly, tense all over. It’s a look Peter’s not unfamiliar with; fight and flight are warring in your nervous system. You’ve been caught. 

“No one’s still supposed to be here,” you say, voice muffled slightly by the painter’s mask covering your nose and mouth. 

A laugh bubbles out of him. “Oh, my bad. Sorry—actually, since I’m clearly the one breaking the rules, I’ll just go.” 

You remain frozen in place, seemingly waiting to see if he’s actually joking or not. Peter’s not sure what to do. He can’t just…let you continue to destroy the lab, but calling the cops has never been his MO. He crosses his arms and leans back against a table, doing his best to look in control. 

“What are you even doing?” he asks. 

“It’s…” You look around you as if you’d forgotten, to the glass now dripping gorily with red paint. “It’s about animal cruelty. It’s a protest. Do you have any idea,” you say, your voice picking up conviction as you speak, “how many animals die in these labs every day?” 

Peter blinks. “Not really.” It feels shitty to say, but it’s not like he’s around for every class and project that happens here every day; something like that would be impossible to keep track of. 

Your eyes flash. “Too many.”

“So, what?” He looks around, at the red dribbling down the glass panes—blood, that’s what it is—and your paint-spritzed overalls. “You make some maintenance worker have to clean this up tomorrow morning, and then the science department will decide to stop?” 

Your eyebrows bunch. You hadn’t thought of that. “I just want to bring attention to it,” you say. “I’ll come back and clean up if I need to, but I just—I think it’s important that people see it. That they can’t just keep ignoring it.” 

Peter frowns, bending to pick up one of the paint canisters stacked neatly by a backpack. He gives it a little shake, and this one’s still full, the pile it came from larger than the matching one of used-up cans by your feet. Your eyes track his movements, too smart to try and take it from him but attentive nonetheless. You’re watching him with this flaming intensity. There’s something quietly passionate about you, like you’re burning with an energy that would be almost frightening if it didn’t seem so heartfelt. 

“You realize there’s cameras all over this place, right?” he asks. “You could get kicked out of school. This is vandalism.” 

You don’t flinch. “It’s uncommissioned public art.” 

“You think they’ll see it that way?” 

You sigh heavily, and Peter wishes he could see what was going on behind that mask so he’d know what you were thinking. Thankfully for him, your eyes are expressive enough. They narrow as you cross your arms, jutting out a hip. 

“So what, are you going to go and tell someone?” 

Peter sizes you up. He can relate to feeling like you need to work outside of the system to get something done. To being sick of going to the proper authorities after being told too many times that while they really do care, they won’t do anything about it.

“How about this,” he says. “You let me stay here and make sure you don’t damage any of the equipment, and I won’t rat you out.” He might even scrub the camera footage once you go. But he’s still figuring you out, so he doesn’t want to make promises. 

“Deal,” you say immediately. If you’re surprised at his bargain, you don’t show it, only shaking the paint canister in your hand and starting to spray another layer of paint onto the glass. Your brows pinch slightly as you work, evidence of an assiduous concentration Peter is familiar with. 

He makes himself comfy in a rolling chair, sitting back to watch you work. “We actually do some really important stuff here, you know.” 

“I’m sure you do,” you say without pausing. “It’s not like I blame everyone you personally. I get that the research helps people, but, I mean, at what cost?” 

Peter shrugs. It’s a good point. “True. It’s a lot worse for animals in the big labs. We’re small-scale because we’re funded by the school, and we’re also responsible for reporting to the higher-ups.” 

“I know.” Your eyes flit to him, less wary than before. “But I don’t have access to one of the big labs. Change has to start somewhere, right?” 

You can certainly agree on that. 

[spinningwebsandtales]

Imagine Gojo Convincing You To Sneak Out Of The Dorms

Gojo Satoru X FemReader

Rating: G

Warnings: Breaking the rules with Gojo, fluff

Word Count: 1.2k

Part 2: here

(A/N:) I don’t know about y’all but I am LOVING the new season of Jujutsu Kaisen! I read the manga and keep up with all the chapters coming out but this was what I was most excited to see come to life. The arc that delves into the past is my top favorite and I love seeing student Gojo. So be prepared for some more Gojo fics and I even have a couple Toji fics lined up as well. If Gojo didn’t exist in the JJK universe I think I’d be a Toji fangirl through and through. Anyway I had to write this and sorry for my absence here lately hopefully that’ll make up for it! Until next time happy reading! ~Countess

You should have been asleep hours ago, but for some reason all you could do was lay in bed and look at the ceiling. The alarm clock at your bedside glowing in the darkness, reminding you of every minute that went by that you needed to get some sleep. Your frustrations grew when the time turned one in the morning and still sleep evaded you. You finally set up, the blankets bunching at your waist before reaching for the lamp at your bedside. You couldn’t even turn the switch when tapping came from your dorm window. You jumped, squeaking in surprise. With a trembling hand you turned on the lamp to spy a head of silvery white hair behind the glass. Gojo waved wildly, grinning like the cat that got the cream as he spotted you, wide awake. His ever present sunglasses reflecting the lamplight when you got up and walked to the window. He backed up giving you enough room to open it and peek your head out.

“What are you doing,” you seethed as you wanted to shout but had to stick with whispering angrily. “You scared me half to death!”

“Can’t sleep,” he asked while moving his body back and forth. It reminded you of rice moving in the wind. You snorted at the thought, as Gojo was slim and tall like rice. He cocked his head but you waved his curiosity away.

“No and now I really won’t be able to with my adrenaline going crazy thanks to you.”

“Let’s sneak out.”

Of course you should have known not to expect an apology from Gojo Satoru. You believed that he would burst into flames if he said ‘I’m sorry’. It wasn’t the powerful sorcerer in training’s style. But you found yourself drawn to him anyway as deep down despite his cocky attitude and devil may care attitude he was a good person. He would make a great teacher if he didn’t get kicked out from his incessant shenanigans first. You couldn’t believe the principal hadn’t gotten rid of him yet. Though you were sure it’s because Satoru was from the Gojo clan with a sprinkle of their teacher protecting him.

“No,” you answered your patience running short. “I’m sick of getting in trouble because of you.”

“We’ll be extra careful,” Gojo replied. “Those other times were just flukes.”

“And I’m sure leaving me alone to take the brunt of the blame was just a fluke too,” you retorted. “I’m not taking the fall for you anymore Satoru Gojo.”

You were about to shut the window in his face when he snagged the frame with his hand. His blue eyes staring straight through you as his sunglasses had slipped down his nose. You sucked in a breath as he grinned.

“We both know you ratted me out every time,” Gojo replied. You tried to pull the window close but his grip was firm and wouldn’t budge.

“I still got in trouble,” you said. There was no reason in lying to him as Gojo knew everything that happened in the school. And you weren’t ashamed at throwing him under the bus. It helped take your punishment down a notch. So if it helped you out and got the reason behind your bad behavior punished further, so be it. Gojo would do the same thing in the situation, if he actually cared about getting into trouble.

“C’mon,” he purred, “let’s go to the beach. You can’t sleep anyway.”

The beach did sound fun and despite yourself you felt your willpower beginning to flounder at every word and every glance in those heavenly blue eyes.

“Why don’t you go bother Geto,” you groaned. He chuckled before giving you a quick peck on the cheek. It stunned you but you didn’t let Gojo see how much the affection effected you. Climbing out of the window you stood beside your partner in crime within seconds. Your lamp still glowing on your bedside and the window ajar, you gently closed it back but not latching it. If you couldn’t get back into your room and you would have to bunk with Satoru and he wouldn’t let you sleep at all if you ever grew tired.

The city was asleep as you both rarely came across another person on the sidewalk you traversed. The ones you did run into turned out to be drunk office workers on their way home from drinking with their coworkers. Gojo would make fun of their stumbling gates as they passed by, which had you giggling into your hand. The air had a chill and you shivered at the icy breeze that passed through your night clothes. Despite acting like he didn’t care majority of the time about others unless ordered to, Gojo stepped closer every time pulling you into his side. His body though tall and lanky was well built and you blushed at the feeling of his toned form pressed against you. You only shoved him away after you warmed up and couldn’t take your burning cheeks anymore.

When you began to hear the waves lapping at the sandy shore did you take off running. Gojo quickly caught up and you both raced to the water. Of course he won and you wound up having to catch your breath halfway there. He teased you kicking at the water while all you could do was glare in his direction, which only made the young sorcerer laugh harder at your plight. Before you could finish regaining your strength, Gojo dashed across the sand again scooping you up and then running back to the water. You were sure he was going to throw you into the salty waves, but surprisingly he set you down gently in the sand. The lights of ships in the distance filled the night and the dock lights illuminated the golden sand. You breathed in deeply, filling your senses with fresh air. Though you knew if the principle found out you both had snuck out...again... you would be in horrible trouble you were glad you both snuck out. Your body wouldn’t allow you to sleep anyway and the atmosphere that surrounded the beach always soothed you no matter what. 

Gojo was quiet for the longest time letting you soak in the calming surroundings in peace. When you sighed and your shoulders drooped, he silently took your hand. You glanced up at the young man that was just a little older than you, his blue eyes glancing down at you. An unfamiliar light glimmered, but you couldn’t bring yourself to question it. You were about to say something when an enraged voice called from the docks. Both your names echoed across the water and your blood froze. Foiled again and it didn’t take long for Gojo to revert back to normal Gojo, except this time when he took off running you were in tow. Your feet churned up sand and you could barely keep up, but as the adrenaline surged you found yourself laughing in amusement. Gojo laughed with you as you both ran to make your escape. The thought of going back never crossed your mind as you lost yourself enjoying the escape that Gojo talked you into. You gripped his hand tighter and willed yourself to run faster, keeping up with his longer legs while the teachers tried their best to keep up. You were glad that you weren’t able to sleep as you would have missed this with him.

[thedovesaredying]

Flames of Green | CoD x GoT/HotD | Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader x John "Soap" MacTavish | Part 1.

Artwork by Elizabeth

You're the heir to the Iron Throne, the eldest child of the current king with the blood of the Targaryens flowing through your veins. Unfortunately, you're due to be married off to a mysterious Northern lord by the name of John MacTavish. At least your closest friend and member of your guard, Simon Riley, will be by your side throughout it all.

A/N: I'm back in my House of the Dragon era, so I'm mixing hyperfixations. The Cannibal doesn't get enough love, he's a nasty bastard and he deserves to cause some chaos. It will eventually be a Ghost x Reader x Soap relationship and likely a bit of a slowburn. Literally just for my own entertainment, but I hope y'all enjoy.

Warnings: None

Masterlist: CoD Masterlist

Next

It’s times like this that you mourn the loss of your youth. Forced to sit in silence while discussions are held by old men around a table, weighing up the advantages and disadvantages of your future marriage to every potential high lord in Westeros. Your opinion is never considered, let alone asked for by any of your father’s advisors, your compliance expected regardless.  

If you had been born a man you could have your pick of any woman in the kingdom to take as a wife, but instead, you’re forced to simply accept whatever man is placed in front of you. Such is the burden of being the princess and heir to House Targaryen. You will be made to give up the right to rule the kingdom to the high lord assigned to you, never to touch the ever-elusive Iron Throne that should have been yours by right.  

You had never really taken the prospect of marriage too seriously in your youth, always considering it a problem for the you of the future to deal with. You didn’t care to forge lasting alliances with other ladies and lords, too busy dragging your poor best friend, Simon, through the gardens and dirtying your extravagant dresses. 

But those days were over. 

Talk of wedding a powerful lord and bringing forth the next line of Targaryen children is all that fills your ears now. You’re forced to entertain every man, young and old, that wishes to gain your favour with a polite smile and feigned interest. You don’t even have your dear Simon to offer you his companionship and a break from the cruel realities of the world. No doubt he would have entertained you with his dry remarks about each man set before you.  

It has been years since you last saw Simon. He was taken from the Red Keep by his father and sent to squire for another lord in the hopes of teaching him the art of warfare. Lord Riley was a foul man, constantly berating his son for spending his time with the Princess rather than roughhousing with his fellow boys. He considered the boy too soft and squeamish at the sight of blood to make a good future lord of their keep.  

You disagreed, of course, Simon was perfect just the way he was; gentle and kind to all those around him. Your friend couldn’t hurt a fly, but he was still one of the bravest people you knew.  

You dread to think just how much he would have hated being drawn into battles, forced to kill other men with his own hands. The letters he occasionally wrote to you always steered clear of depicting the violence you were certain he must have been subjected to, but you’re far from naive enough to hope he has yet to participate in any bloodshed. As the years dragged on, word from him has grown scarce, however, to the point where you can hardly remember when you heard from him last.  

What you do know, is that he had been sent to offer assistance in maintaining peace throughout the Stepstones, killing raiders and pirates that would endanger trade routes to King’s Landing.  

But that was almost six months ago, and there has been little else to soothe your vexed nerves over his safety. He had made a promise to you the day he left, that once his training was done he would return to your side, this time as a knight who would offer himself to your Queen’s Guard once the time was right. Never again would he leave you, more than happy to forfeit the ruling of his own homeland if it meant he could keep you safe.  

You had clung to that promise every day for years after his departure, but with each passing moment it become harder to hold out hope of seeing him again. After all, what is one promise between children in the grand scheme of things?  

It’s a blessing when you’re finally relieved from the meeting, escaping from the suffocating air within the council chambers and fleeing to the safety of your room. You don’t even pause to ensure one of your guards is following you, getting straight to stripping from your dress and replacing it with your riding gear.  

As the carriage carries you away from the city and toward the Dragon Pit your nerves begin to settle. The constant odour of sweat and excrement quickly gives way to fresh air the further away you get. It’s a beautiful day, with hardly a cloud in the sky and wildflowers blooming all along the road. It’s a genuine shame that your day has started so poorly, otherwise you’d have loved to wander the palace gardens and enjoy the midday sun.  

The ground is rocky outside of the dragon pit, and you’re jostled around a bit until the carriage comes to a stop. Although this is your destination, the dragon you seek is not here. Your dragon is far too large to be housed within the Pit.  

Unlike your younger sister, you were not blessed by the Gods to have your dragon egg hatch while you were in the cradle. All throughout your childhood you sat next to it and prayed for the hatchling to come forth, promising you would care for the creature and love it more than anything. But the baby dragon never arrived.  

Many said that it was a sign from the Gods, that you were unfit to be the heir if even your own dragon refused to hatch for you. It was a heavy sentence hanging around your neck, weighing you down and making you feel as though you are worthless, despite the fact you have more power than most of the people laughing at your situation.  

None of them are laughing now.  

You see your dragon stretched out atop one of the nearby ridges. He’s so large that his wings and tail drape over the edge of the rocks, entirely unconcerned by the humans fearfully gathered beneath him as he snoozes away in the warmth of the sun. His scales are like coal, absorbing every ray of sunshine that he can.  

The Cannibal may not be as large as Vhagar, but he’s far older and, as many would argue, far meaner than the old girl. Where most dragons have vibrant, golden eyes, you’re greeted by a pair of sinister green the moment you draw near. His go-to reaction to most things is aggression, and you’ve seen many people meet their end in a blast of emerald flame for merely disturbing him.  

It’s for that precise reason you’re stunned to see someone standing beside the grumpy old beast. There’s only one person other than yourself who could get anywhere near the Cannibal without immediately being swallowed whole. The man pauses his rubbing of your dragon’s scales the moment he sees you, only to earn a displeased whack from the Cannibal’s snout. You bite your lip to force down the grin that’s threatening to spread across your face when the man drops down to one knee, his head bowed respectfully.  

“Lord Riley,” you nod, “I do believe that’s my dragon you’re touching.” That earns a groan from the Cannibal, his massive head twisting away from you both, as though already bored of the conversation.  

“A thousand apologies, princess,” Simon grins, his eyes sparkling with mirth, “your dragon was growing impatient.” The dragon in question huffs, his tail twitching like an agitated cat.  

Simon looks so different from the last time you saw him. He’s both taller and broader, completely filled out with muscles. When he stands again, you’re face to face with the rather intimidating bone mask adorning his face. You’re not certain if it’s real bone, but at that moment you could have cared less, throwing yourself at the large man.  

He catches you easily, holding you tightly against his larger body. It’s entirely improper and if anyone other than your guards witnessed such an interaction there would no doubt be whispers abound. Perhaps it’s a good thing Simon decided to meet you somewhere so private.  

“When did you get back?” you ask, leaning back just long enough to look him in the eye.  

“We docked late last night,” he answers, and you can feel the way his chest rumbles with each word. His deep voice soothes something within you, your stress dissipating like mist at dawn. “We received word that the King’s Guard now has an open position,” he continues, and then much to your shock adds, “I’m here to fill that position.”  

You pull away from him almost completely, only your hands still gently curled around his gauntlets, “but I heard that your father was recently taken ill, don’t you need to return home?”  

While the mask hides the majority of Simon’s face, you can still see the way the skin around his eyes crinkles slightly, “I made a promise to serve my future Queen,” he takes your hand from his arm and presses the back of your palm to where his lips are beneath his mask, “if you’ll have me, princess.”  

You can feel your face burning with the intensity with which Simon stares at you. “I’m certain my father will be delighted to have such a well-regarded warrior in his service,” you smile, gently pulling your hands away from the knight, despite the urge to keep holding onto him.  

Before you can continue the conversation, the Cannibal turns his head back to your again, nudging at you with an irritated huff. His breath is scalding against your skin, yet it doesn’t burn you, thankfully. You place your hand against the beast’s snout, feeling the thick scales shift under your leather gloves. “Gīda,” you coo to the dragon, waiting until he lowers his wing to the floor to provide you with a way to climb onto his back. He’s far too large for you to mount the same way you would a younger dragon.  

Once settling into the Cannibal’s saddle, you grin down at your friend, “I look forward to seeing you in the keep, my lord.” You only have the time to see Simon’s quick nod, before your dragon is leaping from the edge of the ridge, forcing an end to your conversation. You can feel his clear exasperation through your bond and ensure to give the old dragon a scratch to the neck.  

[bronx-bomber87]

I know we’re all struggling with this endless hiatus and the lack of new content, so I thought it would be fun to resurrect the #chenfordchats that were circling around the fandom earlier this year. We previously did a question on favorite Tim Bradford quotes, so this time let’s do Lucy! What are your favorite 3-5 (or more if you want) Lucy Chen quotes from the entire series 😊

This does feel endless doesn't it? Not sure why this hiatus has felt longer than when we had the writers strike. That didn't have an end date for a long time. We have one for this one and it's felt worse. Probably because of all the BTS being withheld for now. We're all starving for content of any kind they'll give us. They've been restricted from sharing much of anything. So we're going little stir crazy. 47 days to go LOL We can do it.

This was not easy because these asks never are but always fun. Appreciate the challenge of them. Here we go. These aren't in any particular order BTW. Except by season cause I can't help but organize it. So maybe they are in a specific order ha But not one of ranking by any means. Also I'm not so good at staying within the numbers lmao I suck at it really. So I just did ones I love and I'm probably forgetting some I love but hopefully not.

If I am missing any feel free to do this as well or let me know your favs in the comments. Also these come with commentary cause I am me after all ahaha Was hard to find quotes I love that aren't just Chenford related but Lucy too if that makes sense. That's real hard cause they're so intertwined lol Anyways this is my crack at it please enjoy and don't hesitate to comment should you like to. Also feel free to participate as well more fun when people join in :)

1x01-What's not to love about her opening line as a character? So confident and ready to go. Look at her. Love everything about this line. Confidence rolling off her as she says. Hasn't been squashed yet by her future soulmate....

1x03-I LOVE this line for how it lands with Tim. But mainly we get to see the early sparks of confident Lucy putting Tim in his place. Standing up for herself. Because if she doesn't her career is going up in flames along with Tim's epic flameout. Telling him like it is and I love her for it.

1x07-Another amazing line that lands so well. This is an iconic scene but this line right here. This IMO is what keeps Tim from crossing that line. It's so spot on. She went out on a major limb and it pays off. Just love this line in particular.

2x01-Are we sensing a theme? LOL It was accidental. But I do love Lucy putting my boy in his place when warranted. Standing up for herself in the process. Straight up owns his ass in this argument with dem fighting words. Love her for it.

2x08-Always love watching her fierce loyalty come out despite rank. heh I love this line. Because once again calling someone out on their crap. Why we love our girl so much isn't it? So many reasons but this is definitely one of them.

2x10-Our poor girl so very frustrated with dating especially as a cop. This is an epic line that I don't think gets enough love. Cracks me up so much.

2x11-Love me some BAMF Lucy. It's one of my favs. The fierceness she shows not only saying this line. But making sure she makes eye contact with Caleb when she delivers it. I love her so much. We all know how true this statement ended up.

3x05-This seems like two quotes in one cause it kinda is. Already breaking the rules as is so here we are haha Fiercely protective Lucy reporting for duty with this quote. Loved it so much. She gonna beat your ass Stanton.

3x07-This line will never cease to crack me up. She owns his ass this entire episode really. It's one giant mic drop for her. This one is one of my all time favs of that ep and in general. I dare you to watch that scene let alone that ep and not be laughing.

4x16-Her reply to Tim's reaction makes me cackle. Her comedic timing is perfection. She is fed up with her hubby at this point and it makes me laugh so much. Goes from playful to over it immediately.

4x22-Lucy's reaction to Juicy is an all time fav. She was having fun messing with Tim over Dim till then. Her replies are so funny I love this quote for how much it makes me laugh every time. She is disturbed and not having fun anymore. LOL

5x12-Such an iconic way to drive her point home with this epic line. No more needed to be explained after this line. I adore this quote and the way she delivers it to Tim.

Lucy Chen is me when i'm prepping for anything with my anxiety. This cracked me up so very hard. Also couldn't find a gif of this glorious line. So just edited down a gif I did ha but I adore this line for how much I related with it LOL She is me when I am prepping.

That's all folks. Hope you enjoyed my rambles. Feel free to comment or do your own that would be fun to see others do it as well. Best part of fandom doing stuff like this. Seeing what everyone loves.

[dfastback68]

Failed to think up modern goth fam scenarios, but this one’s for @kacievvbbbb anyway because I do blame them for the concept of post-canon Mihawk’s Home for Displaced Pirates. (Building off of this fic)

Besides King, who else might wind up there? I don’t really know what’s going on with him in canon, but the answer is obvious: Moria! Perona’s already living on Kuraigana part time/most of the time, so eventually she’d drag her original adoptive dad there.

Of course she wouldn’t tell him it’s Mihawk’s island. Just that there’s this great spooky island with plenty of room and huge graveyards and she loves it and she knows he’ll love it, too. Moria doesn’t put it together that it’s Kuraigana until they’re already there. Perona has absolutely done this on purpose. He really should have seen it coming.

Mihawk isn’t thrilled but he doesn’t object. There’s plenty of room, after all (and he knows Perona will be insufferable if he said no). He does enforce pretty strict rules about fighting among the inhabitants. They can leave their past grievances behind if they want to stay here. No one really wants to mess with Mihawk (or Zoro when he's around).

The first few days go fine, but Perona has forgotten a very crucial aspect to the side of the castle Moria is living in: King. Objectively she knows Moria suffered a crushing defeat from Kaido, and that King was certainly by his side, but it’s not like it’s personal, right? There’s no fighting allowed on the castle grounds, except where training and sparring is permitted. Nothing could ever possibly go wrong.

It’s probably dumb luck that King and Moria don’t run into each other at first. Then one morning Moria walks into the study to find Perona and King in the middle of one of their hair braiding sessions, and all hell breaks loose.

Moria is shrieking, King is yelling, Perona is screaming. She’s never seen Moria so motivated to actively harm someone when it breaks out into an actual fight. Her negative hollows won’t work on them.  Moria simply cannot stand the sight of someone like King being anywhere near Perona. That’s his daughter!!!!

Mihawk has to break it up. Mihawk, all 6 foot something of him, getting between King and Moria, both 20 feet tall.  

He throws them outside and essentially puts them in time out. Perona is sobbing. Mihawk is seriously reconsidering this entire operation. Neither of them really have anywhere to go, though, so he has to think of consequences to quell this sort of behavior. Exactly what he’s been hoping to avoid.

I figure Mihawk’s brand of punishment is just manual labor, but most of the castle residents already pitch in with gardening and farming… so he probably puts them on kitchen duty together. It’s the one room best equipped to handle King’s flame if he gets pissed, and Moria hates doing any kind of menial work at all. 

Forcing them to peel potatoes and carrots and wash grapes (under Perona’s supervision) until they’re united in their anger against Mihawk instead of each other works pretty well, actually. Crisis averted.

(Also wondering if we should throw the Seraphim in there somewhere, too, since again Kuraigana is just a big chill island where they could maybe learn to be people and not live under scrutiny. And let King suffer a mental breakdown over them in privacy. Moria has no idea what to do with a kid murder robot version of himself. Perona treats them like her minions and then eventually like little siblings.)

[merwgue]

The absolute dumpster fire that is ACOSF and if I had the choice to I would erase it from my memory:

Let’s talk about A Court of Silver Flames, where logic goes to die and every character makes the absolute worst decisions. It’s like Sarah J. Maas took one look at the concept of personal autonomy and thought, “Nah, let’s replace it with some good ol’ authoritarianism, terrible communication, and emotional manipulation!” And guess who’s at the heart of all this madness? Our beloved High Lord and High Lady of the Night Court, Rhysand and Feyre. The power couple we’re supposed to root for—except, plot twist, they’re probably the worst people to ever lead anything, let alone an entire court.

Let’s Start With Locking Nesta Up – Because Who Needs Therapy?

Ah yes, Rhysand and Feyre’s grand plan to “fix” Nesta: lock her up. Forget about therapy or actually talking to her like she’s a person with autonomy. No, no. The best solution is clearly to force her into isolation in the House of Wind. What a brilliant move! Because nothing says mental health recovery like a glorified time-out in the sky with zero chance of escape.

Rhysand and Feyre, in their infinite wisdom, decide Nesta’s problems can only be solved through forced training and “tough love.” Never mind the fact that Nesta has been through war, trauma, and, oh yeah, did we mention PTSD? Clearly, locking her up and controlling every aspect of her life is the most compassionate route. Why bother giving her choices when you can just strip them away for her own good, right? Besides, it’s not like they care about actually addressing the root of her issues. As long as Nesta becomes the compliant little sister Feyre always wanted, who cares about her emotional scars?

And let’s not even get into the moral implications. You’d think, after all Rhysand went through Under the Mountain, he’d be a little more careful about, you know, controlling other people’s lives. But nope! Apparently, totalitarianism is fine as long as it’s wrapped up in flowery speeches about love and family. So progressive!

Feyre’s Pregnancy: Where is the Choice? Spoiler: There Isn’t One

Then there’s Feyre’s pregnancy plotline, or as I like to call it: “Rhysand's Pro-Life Power Play.” Because what’s more feminist than completely removing a woman’s agency when it comes to her own body?

Rhysand knows from the beginning that Feyre’s pregnancy is a death sentence. Does he tell her? Of course not! Why would you ever give your partner the chance to make an informed decision about her own life? That would be way too much like respect and love. Instead, Rhysand just... lets it happen. He decides it’s better to let Feyre figure out that her wingspan baby is going to kill her after it’s too late.

But wait! It gets better. Rhysand decides that if Feyre dies during childbirth, he’s going to die with her. How romantic, right? Except for the fact that it’s the most selfish, irresponsible move he could make. This isn’t a love story—it’s a leadership failure. Rhys is so wrapped up in his Feyre-dying-with-me fantasy that he doesn’t even care about what happens to the actual Night Court. You know, the court he’s supposed to be ruling.

Rhys: “If Feyre dies, I’ll just die too. It’s fine. Amren will handle it.”

Amren, who has already sacrificed enough, is expected to pick up the pieces yet again because Rhysand can’t be bothered to plan for the literal future of his people. Oh, and did he even bother telling Amren that she might have to run the Night Court for the second time? Nope. Why communicate important things like that when you can just die dramatically instead?

Rhysand and Feyre: The Power Couple We Never Needed

Let’s really break down this trainwreck of a couple. First off, Feyre’s entire arc has been swallowed by her relationship with Rhys. Remember how she was supposed to be this independent woman? Yeah, that’s cute. But it turns out, her independence only exists when Rhysand approves of it. Their relationship is all about “choice,” but only if it aligns with what Rhys thinks is best.

Feyre, at the end of the day, is just another cog in Rhysand’s Great Leader complex. She’s constantly propped up as this feminist icon, but her choices are always manipulated by Rhys. Whether it’s going to war, having a child, or, you know, surviving childbirth, it’s always Rhys pulling the strings. If you think about it, Feyre’s “independence” has only been traded from one manipulative man to another. Tamlin was too controlling, but Rhys? He’s controlling for her own good. How convenient!

And then there’s Rhysand, our oh-so-perfect High Lord. Except, newsflash, Rhys is just as insecure and broken as the rest of them. His constant need to be the savior, the martyr, the all-knowing leader is exhausting. He can’t help but make everything about himself, even Feyre’s literal death. Rhysand isn’t a protector—he’s a narcissist with a god complex. And the fact that the entire Inner Circle just stands by and lets him act like this? It’s a miracle the Night Court hasn’t crumbled yet.

Cassian and Nesta: Let’s Just Ignore Our Feelings, Shall We?

Let’s not forget about Cassian and Nesta in this mess. Cassian, the oh-so-loyal general, is too busy being Rhysand’s lapdog to actually think about Nesta’s needs. Sure, he cares about her. But instead of helping her deal with her trauma in a healthy way, he’s like, “Let’s train until you’re too tired to feel anything!” Perfect plan. Rhysand would be so proud. And Nesta? She’s clearly been rewritten into a sex-crazed, self-loathing mess, because gods forbid we have a modest, complex woman character in this series. SJM couldn’t stand the thought of a female lead who doesn’t use sex and alcohol as coping mechanisms.

And did Cassian ever confront Rhys about locking Nesta up without her consent? Of course not! Because no one in this court actually communicates with each other. They just fall in line behind Rhys’s idiotic plans, hoping for the best.

In Conclusion: The Night Court is a Disaster Waiting to Happen

In the end, the entire plot of ACOSF is built on terrible leadership, forced confinement, emotional manipulation, and withholding critical information. Rhysand and Feyre are held up as this power couple, but in reality, they’re just two deeply flawed individuals who’ve made a series of reckless decisions that will probably destroy the Night Court one day.

But don’t worry, everyone. It’s all wrapped up in some sparkly “feminist” packaging, so it’s fine! Who needs actual character growth, communication, or autonomy when you can have sex scenes and pretty prose instead?

[huckleberrykai]

choi beomgyu ~ call it what you want

pairing: beomgyu x soobin's sister!reader summary: when you and beomgyu start dating, you aren't sure how to tell your brother. genre: brothers best friend, kinda friends to lovers warnings: fem!reader, pet names, this is the first time i tried fake texts lol, some swearing word count: 1.9k click here for my masterlist!

you didn't mean to fall in love with him. you really didn't.

after spending some time abroad, you decided to go back to korea since you missed your family, and the safe nostalgia of your hometown. you hadn't seen your brother since he debuted, and you were so excited to meet his friends and crash at their dorm for a week before you went to stay with your parents.

and then beomgyu happened.

he knew you were off limits and vice versa, but neither of you were ever one for following the rules. it's like you were magnets, wherever one of you went the other couldn't help but follow.

you got close pretty quickly, as you did with all of the boys - they just loved your laidback personality, unlike your leader brother soobin.

you spent the week playing video games, board games, cooking together, and even helping them clean up around the dorm ~ they were boys after all.

and when your week was over, they begged you to stay.

beomgyu's heart started breaking as soon as you started packing your suitcase, and he begged you for your phone number before you left - and that's where it all began.

you did leave that day, but you spent your entire train journey texting beomgyu, sending each other memes and silly selfies to fill your time.

you couldn't help but giggle at your phone as you got to your parent's house. you usually wouldn't be so bold but beomgyu was just so funny and so so sweet - you weren't gonna let him get away just because your brother would be mad. what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him <3

when wednesday rolled around, beomgyu made some dumb excuse about going to a game store with heesung. kai tried to tag along - spurting something about a pokémon game he really wanted to buy. "they don't.. they don't sell pokémon there!"

"huh? what game store doesn't have pokemon?" kai was puzzled.

"uh, this one! and it's a private event... sorry hyuka!"

smooth gyu. real smooth.

after a few more excuses and fixing his hair for the 5th time, he put on a mask so he wouldn't be recognised and plodded over to the cafe, just a few blocks away. when he got there he noticed he was about 10 minutes early, so he sat at a table and sent you a text to let you know he was there.

his heart nearly fell out of his ass when his vision went black, your cold hands covering his eyes. "guess who!"

"holy shit Y/N you scared the shit out of me!!" you giggled at his dramatics as he clutched a hand over his chest. you grabbed his other hand and dragged him over to order with you.

you bought the drinks for the two of you, much to his dismay. "Y/Nieeee i wanted to pay for you," he pouted cutely. "it's okay beomie, you can pay next time ~" you cooed. his cheeks flamed red at how cute you were, but mostly at you insinuating you wanted to hang out with him again already.

"next time huh? what makes you think i wanna hang out with you again?" he couldn't miss the opportunity to tease you. "well, there's your blushy little face... and your stubbornness to pay me back, i'd say there's gonna be at least one more date." he felt even warmer at that comment.

"date?"

"well duh." you giggled. at his silence you suddenly got nervous, "unless you don't want it to be! that's okay too! like a friend date!" you frantically tried to cover for yourself while beomgyu was still processing you assuming it was a date. "no no no i want it to be a date! i really want it to be."

his voice became small and he had a shy little smile on his face, looking at you with big sparkly eyes. you were about to respond when the barista called your names to collect your drinks.

your date went really well! so well in fact that you went on another one only two days later. beomgyu finished his schedules early, so while the others decided to go out shopping and to see a movie together, he politely declined. they didn't ask what he was doing instead and he was definitely grateful - his excuse game was a tad... lacking.

he met you at the river, he'd planned to take a cute walk with you along the riverside and visit his favourite ice cream shop. he knew he was whipped the second you ordered mint choc chip and he didn't even care, didn't even bat an eyelid. he even paid for it. you did promise to let him pay after all ~

beomgyu thought the date was going well, so his confidence spiked a little when he looked over to see the smile that hadn't left your face all afternoon. as you walked, he switched his ice cream over to his left hand and used his now free one to lace your fingers with his gently.

your hand felt warm in contrast to his cold one, and he gave it a little squeeze.

when you squeezed him back he felt his heart soar and gave you a look of complete adoration. yeah, he was whipped ~

a few weeks of little dates, sneaky meetings and a whole lot of texting led to him thinking about you 24/7. the members had started to notice something was up, but beomgyu just stuck to his excuses - and he was sick of it. he wanted you to be his, and to be able to tell the whole world how much he liked you.

by the world he meant just his friends and family - he wasn't going to subject you to more idol hate or stalking than you already got just for being soobin's sister, but that didn't make him want you any less. you understood him - you understood his job, his wildest dreams, his insecurities, his childish moments, all of him - and he appreciated you beyond words.

he didn't want to text you so late when he knew you'd be busy tomorrow - you finally got an apartment in the city and you were moving a few things early tomorrow morning - but he knew if he didn't use this rush of confidence and adrenaline now, he didn't know when he'd be able to do it.

his brain was running at 100 miles an hour, he just wanted to shove his face in a pillow and scream. he'd just bagged the girl of his dreams over text like a loser, but he succeeded!! and the only catch was the fact she was soobin's sister. yeah maybe he broke the one rule regarding his sister that he gave him, but he'd get over it, right?

he'd break as many rules as he had to if it got you to call him gyubear again.

it was d-day. it had been about a week and a half since you made it official, and now that you had your own apartment you could spend more time with your silly boyfriend in the comfort of your own home, but he could only make so many excuses for sneaking off - and so you devised a plan.

you'd convinced soobin to let you come over to hang out, and when the others caught wind of the idea they jumped at the chance to hang out with you again ~ so saturday night, you'd spill the beans.

when you arrived, your boyfriend and brother were still huddled on the couch eating ice cream, and you couldn't help but giggle at them. "hey lovebirds, am i interrupting?" you joked. beomgyu went wide eyed and soobin just gave you his iconic stink eye.

"Y/N! welcome back!" taehyun greeted you, walking past on his way to the kitchen.

it was nice being in the company of the boys again, but keeping your flirty remarks with beomgyu at bay until after dinner proved to be more difficult than you thought. he'd find himself stopping halfway through his sentences when he realised he was about to slip up and just stop talking.

you bought everyone takeout for dinner, and you all sat around the kitchen table talking about things that had happened recently. "yeah so we found this HUGE rat in the dorm and-" "oh yeah! beomgyu told me about that, that must have been terrifying!" you cut into yeonjun's story without thought.

"huh? since when do you talk to beomgyu?"

oopsies.

"uh, last time we were here she gave me her number! so we could uh... play fortnite!" beomgyu tried to cover for you - but failed miserably.

"Y/N hates fortnite... what's going on?" soobin wondered.

"do we just say it?" beomgyu asked you as if everyone else weren't literally sat at the same table. "well now you've said that we'll have to." you dropped your fork giving him an angry look. he knew there was no bite behind it, but he still felt bad for fucking up - although, you fucked up too.

"say what?" yeonjun asked the obvious, shoving another forkful of salad in his mouth.

"we're dating." you clarified. yeonjun stopped chewing and just looked at you with his jaw hung open. soobin looked mortified, letting out a meek "w-what?"

"before you get mad, it didn't happen on purpose! well it did, but we just wanted to keep in touch and then... i don't know we started spending more time together and... yeah."

"if you're gonna be mad at anyone be mad at me, i asked for her number anyway," beomgyu added. "it was me you told not to try anything, not her."

it was a rare moment where beomgyu was genuinely serious. you meant a whole lot to him and he'd be damned if he let your brother be mad just because he was in love with you.

"i'm not mad."

both of you let out a sigh of relief before soobin began again. "how long?" he asked. "we've only been official for like, 10 days? but we've been talking since i came here last time."

soobin nodded in thought. "it's okay, i know you can't choose who you love and i'm not gonna police you just because you're my baby sister. i'm trusting you beomgyu." although his words were accepting, gyu still felt threatened. "thank you soobin. i promise to take care of her." noticing his discomfort, you held his hand under the table. "i'm just sad you didn't tell me sooner. i mean, i guess i didn't make it seem like i'd be happy for you so i get it, but congratulations."

"see, that wasn't so bad? thank you for your blessing soobin." you smiled at your older brother, who gave you a nod in return before going back to his food. the table was silent for a few seconds, until it was broken by a flabbergasted kai who still hadn't quite processed what just happened.

"so is nobody else gonna acknowledge the fact that BEOMGYU is the least bitchless person at this table?"

[angryushankas]

Sleeping Beauty - Kyman SoT AU

Before they are even born, Prince Kyle of the Elven Kingdom and Prince Eric of Kupa Keep are set to be married to unite both their kingdoms. But the day Kyle is born, he gets a visit by a very powerful wizard: Eric’s older brother Scott, who’s angry that he won’t get the crown because his father married another woman.

Scott gives Kyle a curse: whenever he gets his first kiss, he will die.

The king and queen of the Elves blame the royals of Kupa Keep because the king is Scott’s father. This reignites the flame of a centuries-old conflict, and very quickly they return to being the enemies they once were.

After trying for a long time to take away Kyle’s curse, a fairy manages to weaken it, but not remove it completely. So instead of dying, Kyle’s first kiss would put him in a deep sleep, only to be awakened by a selfless act of true love. Kyle’s parents teach him that he should never kiss anyone. Ever. Their reasons don’t seem to make sense and vary constantly, but Kyle is a well-behaved child so he does as he’s told. Because of this, he grows up afraid of intimacy, never letting himself get too close to anyone. 

Kyle and Eric know of each other, but they’ve never met. Kyle hears awful stories about Kupa Keep and their narcissistic, egotistical prince. He finds himself hating him, even though he has no proof of all the things people tell him. He just knows Kupa Keep is bad, and everyone there is, too.

By the time Kyle’s 18, he has never fallen in love. But that hasn’t stopped him from daydreaming: he still doesn’t know why he can’t kiss anyone, but he wishes he could someday marry a prince to rule with. He sings and dances with forest animals who have come to be some of his closest friends.  One day, he finds a cape and a hat with a yellow star on it on the ground next to a tree; he laughs and dresses up a raccoon so he can dance with him as if he was a prince, while birds fly around them.

That cape and hat belong to Eric, who got jumped by a couple of thieves after he infiltrated the Elven Kingdom in the search for his older brother. His father told him of Scott’s existence right before he died. Eric doesn’t know about the curse; all he knows is that Scott is much more knowledgeable than him, and now that he’s supposed to take the crown he wants to learn from him to become the most powerful king that’s ever been. 

To his surprise, he finds Kyle with his clothes, singing a silly love song. He recognizes who he is, and because he finds the situation so ridiculous, he decides to tease him and join in the singing and dancing, to Kyle’s disgust. 

They really dislike each other at first, particularly Kyle, when he sees first-hand how bigoted Eric is and how superior he thinks he is. Nevertheless, Kyle decides to help Eric on his quest because he’s in a bit of a rebellious phase and wants to get away from his parents.

Even though they start off on the wrong foot, and even though they argue and fight all the time, they can’t help being drawn to each other, discovering things they have in common, learning new magic tricks from each other and even finding themselves having deep conversations about their lives and expectations. Slowly, Kyle realizes he’s starting to fall for Eric. And Eric is falling too.

On a few occasions Eric tries leaning in, wanting to kiss Kyle, but the prince moves away and plays dumb. Eric becomes frustrated, and eventually confronts him because he knows he’s not imagining things, and he’s convinced it’s reciprocated. Kyle ends up admitting that he likes him too, but he’s afraid of getting close. Eric calms him down, lets him know that it’s okay, and Kyle decides that maybe it’s worth it.

They kiss, and it’s wonderful. Kyle’s never been happier. Eric grins, and as he caresses Kyle’s cheek with his thumb, Kyle begins to feel dizzy. Eric’s smile falters, and he starts asking what’s wrong. Suddenly, Kyle faints and doesn’t wake up again.

Eric’s heart breaks. He doesn’t know what to do. In a moment of desperation, and knowing the royals of the Elven Kingdom can’t find out he was involved, he takes Kyle’s body to a nearby village without being seen and leaves him there.

In the hopes that his brother would know what to do, he continues his search for him. When he finds him, he’s met with the realization that Scott is even more self-centered than himself. He decides to ignore this at first, and begs him to help Kyle. But Scott only laughs at him, and before Eric can even ask, he tells him about the curse. 

Eric is in shock. Things start to make sense, why he was despised by the Elven Kingdom, why Kyle didn’t want to admit his feelings, and why Scott was an outcast. Scott, who doesn’t know that the curse is actually weaker now, makes fun of Eric and tells him that he’s responsible for Kyle’s passing.

Overwhelmed by grief, Eric fights him to death and wins. Before Scott dies, he tells Eric that he can take his life and the crown, but he’ll never get his little prince back.

Even though he survived, he feels defeated. Eric blames himself for not listening to Kyle’s worries and convincing him to give in. He decides to visit the Elven Kingdom once again in disguise, so he can see Kyle one last time and say goodbye.

He finds out Kyle is in a tower and that he’s not dead, but he’s asleep and nothing will wake him up.

Eric climbs the tower at night so nobody will see him, and kneels beside Kyle’s bed. He takes Kyle’s hands in his own and starts apologizing. He tells him that he’s sorry, that it’s all his fault and he should’ve listened; that he’s never regretted anything more in his life. That he’s in love with Kyle and he wanted them to be kings together, but now that he’s not with him, he’d rather give up the crown. He doesn’t want fortune, or power, or anything if it’s not with Kyle by his side. He kisses Kyle’s lips and then lays his head on his chest, weeping. 

Suddenly, he hears a little sound coming from Kyle. He backs away only to find that Kyle has woken up. All he remembers is their kiss, and he doesn’t know where he is. Eric is still holding his hands, and now he’s crying but out of joy. He grabs Kyle’s face and starts peppering him with kisses, telling him he loves him, and asking him to marry him. He tells him he doesn’t want to be king and he’d like for Kyle to join him in a simple, quiet life. Kyle, who’s been under pressure and under surveillance his whole life, is quick to say yes and accept his embrace.

Kyle’s parents have a hard time accepting their son won’t be king, but they’re so happy that he’s alive that they eventually come to terms with it, knowing their younger son will take the crown in the future. As for Kupa Keep, Eric proposes a new leader is elected by the people instead. His mother, the queen, agrees, and soon Kenny, a well-beloved princess, is chosen to be their next ruler, and she’ll be allowed to do so without being married.

Eric and Kyle have a small wedding ceremony and move to a little cottage in the woods. They kiss every chance they get, not wanting to waste any. 

And they’ll live happily ever after.

The End.

[sweetracha]

okay look i know youre getting a lot of mommy!skz rn but also we are ignoring the very obvious, True SKZ mommy, minho! you cannot tell me he doesnt give off mommy vibes

Sweetheart you are so real for this.

Minho is actually the member that got me into Mommy!Skz. Him in the SKZ family videos as Seungmin's wife??? Yeah, Milf Minho is my true Bias.

Mommy! Minho Headcannons

Minho was out all day filming for the newest promotional SKZ video

You were always his good sub but Minho always had a sweet spot for brats

You didn't have too many rules but the few you did have were written in stone

So when you sent Minho pictures of you in a new soft yellow babydoll and your dildo laying on the sheets

He was pissed

The door to your apartment flew open making you jump out of your seat and scream

However, that fear of a break-in turned into fear of a punishment as you saw the flames in Minho's eyes

He didn't even take time to remove his 'wife' outfit. Therefore you had a sexy, pissed-off female version of Lee Know standing in front of you and it was hot as hell

"Kitten, strip now and get in the corner of the bedroom..." his tine was as cold as ice

As if he could read your mind he added

"Don't make it worse than it already is. Mommy is about to bruise your ass"

And he did just that

Minho spanked you until your bum was a hot cherry red, then he continued further

Once he decided that was enough, he shoved you to your knees and fucked your throat, holding you down until you were smacking his thighs for air

Finally, he edged you three times before finally deciding

"Mommy's girl doesn't deserve to cum"

"Whining baby, really? Want to get back over my knee? My belt is within reaching distance. Yeah, that's what I thought baby, that's what Mommy thought.'

He was soft with his aftercare to not edge you any further. This was a punishment after all not abuse

The next morning you woke up to soft kisses littering your thighs

When your eyes fluttered open you saw Minho, now dressed like the Minho you knew and loved, in between your legs

"Shhhh Good morning pretty baby! Yeah, that's right honey, just Mommy's pretty baby. Such a good girl, yeah? I know you are. Shhhhh let Mommy take care of you"

He then proceeded to make you cum three times. Once from his mouth, once from his fingers, and once from 'mommy's long cock'

After he cleaned you up, showered you, and dressed you in a pretty baby yellow sundress. He made you breakfast

Pancakes with fresh fruit and whipped cream

He served you and kissed your puffed-up cheeks as you ate

"Mommy loves you kitten, never forget that" he cooed as the new title sent pride through his veins

In conclusion, Mommy Minho is the strictest yet most sugary sweet Mommy of them all.

[zukosdualdao]

still feel the spin / hurts when i remember (i never wanna feel it again)

zutara month, day 14: exposed, @zutaramonth

summary: the night they return from the boiling rock, zuko breaks away from the group and falls back into an old pattern. katara catches him.

warnings: references to abuse and ozai trying to kill zuko, dissociation, and self-harm via firebending. please read carefully, mind the warnings, and take a step back if needed. <3

other notes: title taken from control by zoe wees. don't ask katara why she went looking for him to tell him dinner was ready she doesn't have to answer such questions! (she did, in fact, notice him missing, and wanted to check on him, despite herself.)

The night they return from the Boiling Rock, Zuko watches with a smile as Katara and Sokka hug their father, relieved for them that he’s okay, and that Zuko could help in this.

There’s another feeling wriggling in the back of his mind, though—something more complicated, sick with grief that might morph back into that festering, dark kind of anger if he lets it, and he breaks awake from the group as soon as he gets the chance, with them not noticing as introductions are made and Sokka begins to recount the story.

Shaking his head, he makes for the quarters where Sokka first took him when he arrived at The Western Air Temple. The group tends to sleep together, huddled up with a fire between them for warmth, and Zuko’s taken to doing the same, but this is one place he knows he’ll be alone.

Taking a deep breath, he sits down on the bed there. Katara and Sokka were so happy to see their father, so relieved, and in turn, Hakoda’s love for them was clearly etched into his features. 

Zuko remembers, in a flash, the last time he saw his own father, only weeks ago. The fear clawing at him even as he drew his swords at his father’s threats. That beat before Ozai tried to strike him down with lightning, the electricity working through him as he redirected it.

The knowledge that his father really would kill him.

Zuko doesn’t want anger to rule him anymore, and he’s afraid if he lets himself feel this too deeply, that’s what it will become. 

His chest feels empty, caved in, scooped out. It’s easier, better, he thinks, to let it become muted, to let his feelings die as he swallows them down. Dazedly, almost unconsciously, he lifts his left hand and summons a small flame, grazing it against the palm of his other hand. 

It takes more to burn a firebender than it does others, both because of their hot-blooded natures and because of resistance training. More heat, more intent, more desire—

He feels the heat growing against his palm more than he logically understands it. There’s a swell of pain, a bright searing point, but he only feels hollow.

“What are you doing?”

Zuko whips his head to see Katara staring at him in the doorway, eyes wide and surprised and maybe concerned, her expression so open, like she’s forgotten, for a moment, that she hates him.

She takes a long step forward before pausing.

“I—nothing,” he lies, extinguishing his flame and curling the fingers of his right palm against the shiny red skin there. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knows it should hurt, but what he most feels is shame at the being caught, being exposed like this.

It's not something he does very often. Usually, he has a better handle on it. Knows better than to let his fire grow so strong.

Katara stands stock-still for another few seconds before she’s shaking her head, eyes closed, and huffing out a breath. She approaches him, sitting down on the bed beside him, and opens her waterskin, calling her bending water to her before taking his hands in her own.

Zuko inhales sharply, coming back to himself, as the water soothes his burned skin and draws out the pain, leaving only his blank palm behind. It had gone deep. If it weren’t for her, the fire probably would have left behind a scar.

Another one.

“You shouldn’t hurt your—” Katara starts in a quiet voice, almost kind of gentle, like she’s worried she might spook him. Then, she remembers herself. With her brow drawn, Katara then looks at him, her eyes hard and piercing once more. “Don’t do that again,” she says. “You’re Aang’s firebending teacher,” she reminds him. “We can’t afford for you to be hurt, and he can’t learn anything like that from you.”

Zuko nods, just once. She turns to leave, stopping at the doorway without looking back.

“Dinner is ready,” Katara says before walking away without waiting for his response.

With his hands pressed against his knees, Zuko waits another moment. Then, he stands, limbs feeling rigid, and follows her out.

[prettytoxicrevolver]

The Way I Loved You | Quinn Hughes

quinn hughes x reader and jack hughes x reader

You and Quinn break up after a roller coaster ride of a relationship but when you end up dating his calmer, sweeter, kinder, younger brother you still end up thinking about Quinn anyway

wc 2.1k

flashbacks are in italics as always :)

It was no surprise when Quinn got drafted to Vancouver, Jack to the Devils, and Luke headed out to Michigan for school. 

It wasn’t a shocker when you followed Quinn to Vancouver either. 

Out of the three of them, you and Quinn were the closest. Your parents joked that when he did go to Vancouver, you’d have to get a surgical removal from each other. You were always together. 

To you, it was a no brainer that you’d move to Vancouver with Quinn. You had already finished your undergrad degree and could virtually work anywhere you wanted and what better place to go than where your best friend was. You couldn’t see an issue with it. 

Well, no issue until you ended up moving back to New Jersey. 

Your phone pings with the special text message sound you have set for Jack. Like clockwork, your roommates “ooh” like high schoolers teasing their friends and you roll your eyes. 

“Say hi to Jack for us!” Lauren yells and your other roommate giggles next to her. 

“Have fun being jealous tonight!” you respond back. 

Your roommates laugh loudly in response, yelling out that your boyfriend is “just too hot” and “he’s so sweet” and that they “can’t help but be jealous”. You walk out, shaking your head but smiling nonetheless. 

You step out of your house to see Jack leaned against the passenger side of his bmw. Your heart jumps at the sight, his eyes trailing upwards to meet yours and his shy smile is so endearing you nearly awe out loud. 

“Damn,” he lets out when you get closer and a giggle escapes your lips. He slips an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him and presses a quick kiss to your lips. 

“You look beautiful tonight,” he says and your blush is prominent at the words. 

“Thank you,” you say, ducking your head away from his intense gaze. Your whole body felt like it was on fire at his touch and his words only made the flame burn brighter. 

He lets go for a moment to open your car door and helps you in before getting in on his side afterwards. Jack takes off towards your destination and the car ride is mostly quiet except for the music and casual conversation. 

During a lull of sound your eyes trail out towards the scenery flying by you. The sights blur around you and you find your mind wandering back to him. How fast he drove, one hand always lingering somewhere on your body, the exhilaration in every breath, every touch, every word. How you never felt that passion with Jack. 

But it’s a passion that takes over and rules above all and puts your emotions on a rollercoaster that you never know when is going to drop next. It’s exciting and exhilarating and damn fun. It’s also scary and frustrating and yet you sit here letting yourself be absorbed by the memories of Quinn. 

It was Quinn that wanted you at this banquet. Quinn who had begged you for weeks to go. Quinn who offered to buy you a new dress and pay for your nails. 

Quinn who ignored you literally all night long. And then had the audacity to be frustrated with you on the drive home. 

“What the fuck is your issue?” Quinn snaps as he shifts his car to park. 

“My issue?” you nearly scream back and Quinn huffs like you’re the one acting utterly ridiculous and not him. 

“Fuck off Quinn,” you mutter after a moment of staring at him only to realize his question is genuine.

You shake your head, pulling the car door open and slamming it shut behind you. You don’t make it far, a hand grabbing your arm and yanking you back and you nearly lose your balance from the force and the rain sliding violently down the driveway. 

You’re tempted to shove him away, scream at the top of your lungs and really tell him how it is. You had foolishly spent hours getting ready for tonight’s banquet and Quinn had spent it ignoring you. You were completely and utterly done with his bullshit. 

“What’s wrong?” Quinn asks. It’s quieter this time, almost like a plea but not quite. He’s trying his hardest not to yell but you can tell he’s still pissed at you. 

“What’s wrong is that I’m a complete and utter idiot for thinking that this was more than what it actually is.” 

“And what did you think it was?” he asks, pulling you closer but his grip on your arm softens. 

“I-” you start but falter upon his intense stare. 

“Say it,” he says, now barely above a whisper. “Please say it.” 

“I thought you were finally asking me out.” 

“That's my girl.” 

His lips are on yours faster than you can comprehend and Quinn has to tug you closer for you to respond. His lips mold perfectly to yours, a roller coaster of emotions flowing through every inch of you in what feels like seconds. You never knew you could feel that much so quickly and so intensely. 

Passion like that doesn’t always last. 

“Baby?” you’re brought back by Jack’s voice and you look over at him. “You okay?” 

“All good,” you promise, a smile slips onto your lips but Jack notices that it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. 

He nods, reaching over and squeezing your thigh before focusing on driving once more. 

You didn’t move back to New Jersey just because of Quinn. Your family all lived in the New England area and your parents bought a house for retirement in the rich part of Connecticut. 

You could visit them whenever you wanted, see childhood friends in New Jersey, and hangout with Jack and his teammates more. You reminded yourself of this as Jack was running late to your parents house. 

“Jack!” you hear your mom greet him at the front door. 

You make your way over from the kitchen and spot Jack standing with a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a gift bag in another. He smiles that thousand dollar grin of his and leans down to hug your mom. 

“Hi Mrs. (y/l/n),” he says and your mom beams back at him. “These are for you.” 

“Oh sugar you shouldn’t have!” 

She takes the flowers from Jack, insisting on another bear hug before walking back towards the kitchen. Jack follows her and you don't realize you’re grinning until he’s standing in front of you. 

“Hi,” you say. 

“Hi,” he responds, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your lips. 

“Suck up,” you whisper when he pulls away and the two of you giggle quietly. 

“Jack!” 

Your dad’s voice pulls your boyfriend back and he offers a hand that your dad clasps in a strong grip. You watch as Jack hands him the gift bag, mentioning something about a new book your dad would like and that proud father look adorns his features. 

You don’t see Jack until later, your father and him wrapped in discussions of hockey, news, business, etc. When dinner rolls around, you’re content watching Jack charm your family for the millionth time. He’s polite, always saying please and thank you, complimenting your moms cooking, holding your hand beneath the table and squeezing it reassuringly, joking with your father, it was picture perfect from head to toe. 

Nothing in this world could make you more comfortable than in that moment. 

And yet, some unshakeable force brings your brain back to memories of Quinn. 

“Wait,” you say and Quinn offers a confused look. “I’m nervous.” 

“You’re just meeting the guys,” he says, like it's the easiest thing in the world to do.  

“What if they don't like me?” 

“Then I’ll knock some sense into them on the ice later,” he reassures, leaning over to press a quick kiss to your cheek before getting out of the car and opening your door for you. 

You step into the restaurant and it feels like a whirlwind as you’re swept into conversation with Quinn’s teammates, friends, and one of his brothers. They ask you a million questions and at some point Quinn has to tell them to back off for a bit. 

Finally, you find a seat in between Anthony Beauvillier and Quinn, listening to the boys tell stories about your boyfriend and smiling as he flushes from embarrassment. 

“So, what do you do for a living?” Anthony asks from next to you. 

You answer him, turning your body so you can hear his voice better and vaguely notice the glance from Quinn. You both dive into conversation, the words flowing so easily between you two that you don’t notice when Quinn sits back and stares angrily at the two of you. You fail to see the worried glances of his teammates or the jealousy building in your boyfriend. 

So, when you get home and Quinn still hasn't said a word to you since the restaurant, not only are you confused and worried, you’re a little bit angry as well. 

“That went well, right?” you ask, still testing Quinn’s mood. 

“Yeah,” he snaps out and your head rears back in confusion. “I love watching my girlfriend flirt with my entire team.” 

“What?” you sputter out, confusion evident in your voice. 

“You barely said a word to me all night, you were batting your eyes at any guy that looked at you, and you basically let Beauviller eye fuck you all night!” 

His words are harsh against your skin, heating you up all over and lighting a fire that only exists in intense moments with Quinn. You feel your mood change in a snap and you find yourself crossing your arms defensively and glaring at Quinn. 

“Even if Anthony was eye fucking me I can’t control that!” 

“You could if you actually acted like my girlfriend.” 

“You are un-fucking-believable,” you sigh out. 

Quinn can’t help the angry expression that rests on his face, his fear of losing you so overwhelming he can't help but explode in anger. He was still wrestling with the fact that he loved you so much it physically pained him some days. He didn’t know what to do with all of these intense emotions. Even worse, society had made it practically impossible for him to know or learn how to express those feelings in other healthy ways, not just anger. 

“But I’m right,” he responds and you shake your head. 

“Fuck you Hughes.” 

“What's going on with you?” 

Jack's calm and concerned voice sparks your thoughts, bringing you back to the present. You glance over at him, a false smile appearing on your lips with an ease that scares you for a moment. He places a comforting hand on your thigh and your smile falters for a moment. 

You should be in love with Jack. You should be happy, over the fucking moon by all normal standards. He’s sweet, always calls exactly when he says he will, is close to your family, charming to your friends, makes sure you're comfortable and protects you always. 

So why couldn’t you stop thinking about his older brother? 

Quinn had driven you up a wall the entire time you were in Vancouver with him. He’s late to everything, never has a clue what’s going on, got hung up on little things, could never truly express what he wanted or was feeling. He was frustrating, intoxicating, complicated, wild, crazy, and a million other words that could explain your annoyance with him. 

“What’s got you all worked up beautiful?” Jack asks, turning in his seat to look at you. 

You hated the way he was staring into your eyes, the way he just knew something was going on with you and that no matter what he did he knew he couldn’t solve it. Like he was about to tell you what was bothering you instead of you telling him. 

“Is it Quinn?” 

“Jack,” you start and he shakes his head, offering a smile that makes you nervous. 

“I should have known,” he admits, shrugging his shoulders and if he didn’t look so damn understanding yet hurt, you would lean over and pull him into your arms. 

“You always did get along with Quinn better,” he jokes and you let out a watery laugh. Much to fans and media’s dismay, you never wanted to fuck up the Hughes lives the way you already sort of did. You never wanted to hurt either brother or even put Luke in the middle. 

“We hated each other,” you say laughing and Jack starts to chuckle as well. 

“Yeah well,” he says and now you’re both laughing. 

“I did love you,” you remind him, pushing his chin up with your finger so he looks at you. 

“I love you too,” he says and the present tense makes you flinch a little. 

“Go get him.” 

You press a kiss to his cheek before getting up and leaving Jack’s apartment. 

[goosewizard]

chat i would like to propose in universe ctommy tattoo artist

(also on ao3)

tommy doesn't remember when he started tattooing.

he has a small stick and poke from l'manberg, something stupid he and tubbo did one night with sewing needles and ink. a lopsided 'T' still rests on his ankle, and he knows tubbo has a matching one. they're small and faded and dumb to look at but they face the other when the two stand side by side, and that's enough for them both.

(he remembers tubbo had looked at it in awe after it was done, asking if he could do a bee next, and tommy figured he may have to get more serious about blood-borne diseases)

he practices on himself, writes out POGCHAMP on his knuckles (and then thanks Prime that hand tattoos fade fast). he sports two uneven black circles above his right knee, with small blobs of green and purple in their centers. wilbur had commented on how they looked like a particularly nasty bruise, but tommy found fresh needles, gloves, and rotten flesh on his bed later, so he'd like to call it even.

(besides, he likes how it looks)

he had garnered a bit of a reputation after that, working on whoever would let him. tubbo gets his bee, a whole swarm of them really, niki gets flame dancing up her arm, fundy asks for something or other, but they could never really figure out the logistics of it. it was good for a while.

and then open wounds are too much of a risk to take.

and then they're free.

and then there's schlatt.

in the quiet of pogtopia, wilbur asks him for a flag, the flag, right over his heart. tommy scoffs but takes extra time making sure the ink he's using is just the right color. it had been some of his finest work. wilbur had loved it.

(he tries not to think about how there's a scar running through it now. he guesses some things were never meant to last after all.)

tommy would say that he doesn't do touch-ups, that all his work is perfect the first time and you can suck it.

that rule doesn't quite apply when his best friend has been burned to shit, taking tommy's craftsmanship with it. the skin is obliterated, raw and open, and the bees are gone. tommy offers to do them again, right then and there while tubbo's still hopped up on painkillers, but tubbo just shakes his head and says maybe later.

later doesn't come for a very long time.

when he comes to tommy, back still raw and bandaged, quackity asks for his wings back. he says fuck no but changes his answer to not now when quackity crumples. a few months later, when he all but sobs at his reflection, tommy pretends not to notice.

tommy doesn't tattoo dream.

(he wishes he didn't tattoo himself then, but the smile on his wrist stares up at him, taunting)

(it had been the only thing dream allowed to heal)

he's worse at it when he gets revived back. his hands shake. he's out of practice. his lines are sloppy. he puts a lily of the valley on his calf. it looks like shit.

he does it just to know he's alive sometime, tells people he's 'practicing' when he stabs lines into his skin. it doesn't hurt him, not really, it's just-

tommy doesn't really know. he's so tired nowadays.

it's tubbo that brings him out of it in the end (it's always tubbo isn't it?). he gifts tommy a machine he made himself with new needle adapters, says it should be a lot faster now and you could do the bees again, if you want, and that's it really.

they start on tubbos sleeve that night, laughing like they're 16 again and talking, really talking. it's been so long since they've been together like this. tommy tries out his new machine on rotten flesh, gets a feel for it before he works on his best friend, his brother. as they sketch the design, the sun rises and tubbo has to run home to take care of his son (when did he get a kid?), promising to be back before long.

(tommy thinks of all the promises tubbo has broken)

(he doesn't break this one)

when he comes back, tommy pours the ink with shaking hands and tells his brother you don't have to trust me again. you can live your new life and i'll make do. i never wanted to hurt you. i didn't mean it. if this sucks it's all your fault. tubbo smiles at him, easy and understanding and says yeah, alright.

i still love you enough to stay.

the lines wobble a bit and tubbo has to take deep breaths on the tender parts because he actually does have pain receptors on that side you asshole, but he smiles as he says it. he leaves with his arm wrapped and a promise to care for his new ink, and there's a weight off tommy's chest.

to his surprise, ranboo comes to see him next, hands twisting and looking like a deer set to bolt. they ask for a crown on their left wrist. small. simple. and something that would have taken 15 minutes if they would stop teleporting away every time the needle fucking touched them.

(ranboo ends up calling tubbo to keep them still. the hand-holding and flirting is gross)

(tommy's happy for them)

tommy finishes tubbo's sleeve, and ranboo honest-to-god swoons when they see it and they're all laughing their asses off and before he knows it he's meeting their kid who's so little and looks up at tommy with his big eye and touches his tattoos gently and with so much wonder that it hurts to look at and it's too much and he bolts.

the next time tommy sees the kid (michael, his name is michael), he has marker scribbles all over himself, says like you! in toddler babble, and tommy thinks he may be able to swing an apprenticeship someday.

he sees more people after that. he thinks there's less fighting now, or maybe just less fighting directed at him. he appreciates it, either way. connor gets a sonic tramp stamp, go figure. niki comes back, asks for a lemon branch, and tommy pretends he doesn't know the meaning behind it. quackity comes in, disheveled, and quietly asks for the name Charlie over his heart. tommy does it at no charge. his eternal nuisance ranboo gets alliums and tulips winding up their arms in black and white ink, their husband holding them down all the while.

no, tommy does not cry, he is a professional.

with enough time and some very generous "anonymous" donations, tommy builds a tattoo shop, a real one with clean quartz interior and shiny new chairs and work stations. he offers his tom-toos to whoever passes by, and his portfolio grows bigger by the day. the shop is safe (tubbo's fucking nukes ensure that) and on special days, michael helps him stencil his clients.

wilbur comes in once, and tommy has the strength to say no. wil doesn't come back after that.

tommy doesn't remember when he started tattooing, but now, as he looks across the SMP and sees little pieces of him across boundary and faction lines, on friends and enemies, he thinks he'd be a fool to ever stop again.

[mysticstarlightduck]

Character Aesthetic Deep Dive Tag!

Let's go with Saoirse Richards from Scrapyard Boys for this one!!!

Rules: Make a moodboard with your character's aesthetic, a playlist that fits their vibe, "badly summarize them" (like, talk about their personality, but funnily), etc. It absolutely does not need to be super detailed!!!!!

✦ Character Aesthetic: Saoirse Richards, WIP -Scrapyard Boys

♡ Moodboard ♡

♡ Playlist ♡

Are You Satisfied? - Marina & The Diamonds

Was I meant to feel happy That my life was just about to change? One life pretending to be The cat who got the cream Oh, everybody said, "Marina is a dreamer" People like to tell you What you're gonna be is not my problem if you don't see what I see And I do not give a damn if you don't believe My problem is my problem that I never am happy It's my problem, it's my problem on how fast I will succeed Are you satisfied with an average life? Do I need to lie to make my way in life? High achiever, don't you see? Baby, nothing comes for free They say I'm a control freak Driven by a greed to succeed Nobody can stop me

Things We Lost In The Fire - Bastille

Things we lost to the flames Things we'll never see again All that we've amassed Sits before us, shattered into ash These are the things, the things we lost The things we lost in the fire, fire, fire These are the things, the things we lost The things we lost in the fire, fire, fire We sat and made a list Of all the things that we have Down the backs of table tops Ticket stubs and your diaries, I read them all one day When loneliness came and you were away Oh they told me nothing new But I love to read the words you used These are the things, the things we lost The things we lost in the fire, fire, fire

O.D.D - Hey Violet

I should never listen to another voice But my own Now I've grown up, now I know That when I'm tryna be myself it isn't so simple Anymore Some days I wake up I just wanna hide under the covers 'Cause no matter what I do I'll never be like all the others I'm a little O.D.D Most people really don't get me I'm the girl in the back of the class Blank stare, don't care, don't ask I'm a little O.D.D I see the way they look at me I can hear it when they talk that trash Saying "Any minute she gon' crack"

Mind Games - Sickick

Once I'm in there ain't no letting go, letting go Watch me turn your mind into my home Now that I'm in there's no letting go And your emptiness begins Once I grip onto your mind and soul And your brightness starts to dim Sin after sin you won't feel no more You've lost your trust again I know you wish you could let me know That you're praying for an end

Welcome to Wonderland - Anson Seabra

Welcome to Wonderland, where should we go There's a tea party along down the road Make an appearance and maybe they'll sing us a song Dancing through a dream underneath the stars Laughing 'til the morning comes Everyone that leaves has a heavy heart Oh, Wonderland I love Nothing around here is quite as it seems Not sure if anything's real or a dream And the only thing sure from the start Is the song that's inside of your heart Don't let it leave If this was a dream, then at least I've got Memories for when morning comes Now that I must leave with a heavy heart Oh, Wonderland I love

Boo Hoo - Neoni, ft. RIELL

When you start a fire and hide the matches Been down that rabbit hole Swore I would never go Back to bad habit's, I'm through Around and around we go sick of the vertigo Abracadabra, screw you White lies, red eyes, I've had enough Fake nice surprise, I've had enough White lies, red eyes, I've had enough Fake nice surprise Boo hoo, you don't like me, well That's good for you Boo hoo, say you're over it, well That makes two Throw your pity pity pity party Bring your friends, but you got nobody You, you don't like me, I don't like you Boo hoo

Numb Little Bug - Em Behold

And the world it feels too big Like a floating ball that's bound to break Snap my psyche like a twig And I just wanna see if you feel the same as me Do you ever get a little bit tired of life Like you're not really happy but you don't wanna die Like you're hanging by a thread but you gotta survive 'Cause you gotta survive Like your body's in the room but you're not really there Like you have empathy inside but you don't really care Like you're fresh outta love but it's been in the air Am I past repair A little bit tired of tryin' to care when I don't A little bit tired of quick repairs to cope A little bit tired of sinkin' There's water in my boat I'm barely breathin' Tryna stay afloat So I got these quick repairs to cope Guess I'm just broken and broke

♡ Badly Summarized OC ♡

A brilliant young telepath/telekinetic superhero fueled by coffee, candies and spite, as well as a truckload of pizza.

Puts her intellect to good use by creating the most unhinged plans and somehow making them work! Is the Gremlin Mom Friend.

Is terrified of fire because her father's business partner burned down his lab with him inside. Now doesn't know how to feel about the fact that one of her best friends controls flames.

She's probably a bit more childish and naive than the rest of the team but is sharp-witted and funny all the same. Also! Out of the starting members of the Gang, Saoirse is the only one who was born in serious wealth, though she lost it all.

If someone fused a black cat and an orange cat into one and turned them into a human being, that would be Saoirse.

Can speak a lot of languages but most of the cast doesn't know until she randomly starts spouting fluent words in foreign languages in a situation where that's required. (Cue the classic: "We didn't know you spoke [language X]!" followed by "... But you never asked?")

Gives suspiciously good relationship advice but has never dated before.

Loves a grunge style and absolutely revels in a goblin-core aesthetic, plus adores watching the chaos unfold from behind the scenes.

Has a deeper voice than one would expect, which often also sounds coarse when she's bored or focused.

Sleeps like a rock and could potentially sleep through the end of the world. Counts scientific facts instead of sheep when she can't fall asleep.

Can crawl and climb basically anywhere. This has nothing to do with her powers - she's just uncannily agile and stealthy, to the point she jumpscares her friends often lol.

Source for pictures: Pinterest

Source for music/songs: Spotify

Tagging (gently): @sleepy-night-child, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @smol-feralgremlin, @oh-no-another-idea, @littleladymab,

@winterandwords, @eccaiia, @sarahlizziewrites, @illarian-rambling

@agirlandherquill, @anoelleart, @ray-writes-n-shit

@the-golden-comet, @writernopal, @anyablackwood, @unstablewifiaccess, @forthesanityofstorytellers

@i-can-even-burn-salad, @cakeinthevoid

@lassiesandiego, @thepeculiarbird, @clairelsonao3, @memento-morri-writes, @starlit-hopes-and-dreams

@differentnighttale

@wyked-ao3 and OPEN TAG

Taglist for Scrapyard Boys below the cut 🧪

Scrapyard Boys Taglist (-/+): @ray-writes-n-shit, @sarandipitywrites, @lassiesandiego, @smol-feralgremlin, @kaylinalexanderbooks,

@diabolical-blue @oh-no-another-idea

@cakeinthevoid, @clairelsonao3,

@thepeculiarbird

@the-golden-comet, @urnumber1star, @ominous-feychild, @anyablackwood, @amaiguri, @lyutenw @finickyfelix

@thecomfywriter, @the-letterbox-archives, @differentnighttale @wyked-ao3

Let me know if you'd like to be added!