#i should probably stop it with my spam

[pedro-pedrito-pascalito]

that was so badass.

[zetsubobu]

Alrighty I created a ninjago oc!!

But sike, it's actually in @weekend-whip 's legacyverse because it's better written than the canon show and I like that universe

Alright so I saw this

And I thought: "hmmm, distant relative, that gives room for headcanons"

So here's my ninjago (legacyverse) oc!

Name: nicole villin (nici)

Age: undefined but in the same age range as harumi and lloyd

Moral: lawful neutral

Ability: partial inheritor of the element of light

Nici is a direct descendant of the 5th gen master of light. However like aurora she only partially inherited the ability. In nici's case, she inherited the control over the element but not the full power. She could make herself disappear at will, however the strongest she could go is being translucent and not fully see through like paleman. That results in her not exactly "disappearing" whenever she wants to but rather it's more coincidental and happens whenever she feels particularly intuned with her element or feels like her life is in danger. Usually she can still be seen in a normal light setting so it's not much of use, however in dimly lit rooms it can happen that you won't notice her unless you look twice or mistake it for a trick of the eyes.

She did not have training to control her powers yet since the previous master is more focused on the other inheritor, paleman.

The fact that nici inherited the control over disappearing (which she could use if she had training) is also the reason why paleman is never seen with his true face but rather his clothes or completely gone. He has the full power that she hasn't (since she just got a weaker portion of that) but since he can not control when to tap out or in, he's constantly see through and the only thing he can do is enhance his power to make him even more see through or weaken it a bit

(imagine it as if kai's hair was constantly on fire because of his element but he can't put it out. He could make his whole body on fire or he could go back to only his hair which is just a bit weaker but it would never stop)

Personality:

She is usually a happy person but that gets really reserved around people she doesn't know well. She doesn't mind talking as long as it's with close ones since she suffers from pretty bad social anxiety and often doubts her friendships, especially when around strangers. Her withdrawal around others makes it easy for her to blend in and be forgotten. She does care deeply about her limited friendships though and her way to show appreciation and care is by making sure her friends stay out of trouble. She's not a shy person so speaking is not something she troubles much with and she's quite happy to talk if she does

She doesn't support the ninjas nor lord garmadon as she thinks they both have their flaws and supporting one or the other without acknowledging the flaws is pretty ignorant. She doesn't mind those who do either though as she thinks opinion is opinion.

She has the bad habit of always distrusting her friendships even if they never said anything bad which is a result of her bond with her mother. So it might come off as a bit hurtful to others when she says something like "I have no friends", which is not something she says because she doesn't consider them friends but rather that she fears they don't consider her one. Just know that she doesn't mean it the way it sounds.

She's an active listener and has the habit of sometimes hearing things she shouldn't because they forget she's also there which could cause her to overhear some certain ninja secrets

Usually light is an element associated with things like hope or positivity which is something that doesn't exactly fit her sometimes due to her anxiety. It's why she has a rather low natural attunement with a mid fluctuation

Jesse belongs to @weekend-whip !!

Story:

Ever since she was born, she noticed her mother frequently disappointed that she didn't inherited the full element as she now had the trouble of needing to search for a person that she could pass it on to. Her mother never expressed that disappointment verbally, however she could see it in her eyes as well as how desperate she was at meeting new people, even really distant family members who they have never met before. It's also how they met paleman as he is a more distant family member. Nici's mother noticed how he had a really high natural attunement and chose that distant relative to be the next master of light. All those parties and meeting all those people with the knowledge of why they are actually here is what caused her social anxiety in the first place.

She and paleman get along quite well though because he understands her situation and had to see her way more often after getting passed on the element. She often calls him uncle viz since he does appear like an uncle to her.

She goes to highschool in ninjago city (bc where else?), spends her time in the cooking club and is in the same year as harumi (though they have never interacted much). She isn't one that believes rumors but she is intimidated by most of the ninjas and isn't sure how to talk to either of them. Though she does get along the best with zane and nya.

She lives close to the border of ninjago city which is why the garmadon or the great devourer attack never affected her as much as the others near the center of the city. She did volunteer work though by helping to cook food to support people who lost their homes.

[bryverros]

when i was a kid i used to hate the word society and would intentionally pretend to struggle pronouncing it in my english class. like yeah no i just hated the word badly enough to humble myself weeks in a row going like uhhhh so- i forgot how to pronounce that :( so sorry :(

the reason for that is the fact that i decided that it reminded me of a bad word in my first language and i felt bad saying it, especially in front of my classmates. the words arent even remotely close now that i look back at it but the fact remains; im better now and have no problems saying it. to prove my point: i love the dead poets gathering of people AND the spider community

[kantraels]

I've had the eternal dark / silent and somber - this is the gift / i have to offer stanzas from wicked love stuck in my head all day. in a kenna context

[mattybsgroupie]

— talking matt through his first orgasm over the phone

★ requested by anon ★

“matt? are you there?” you asked when you noticed matt had suddenly gotten quiet, his hums and nods no longer being heard. “uh, yes yes i’m listening” he mumbled, but his voice sounded further away, as if he had placed his phone somewhere else. you could hear him shuffling around the sheets, his breath getting heavier as he expected you to continue talking.

“what are you doing?” you said in a low tone, hearing matt coughing. “n-nothing, i’m just— i’m getting ready to sleep, that’s all” matt answered, lowering his head against the pillow, trying to get more comfortable as he placed the phone on his own chest. you knew exactly what he was doing — but you needed to hear it from him. “are you touching yourself, matt?” you ask and he suddenly chokes, coughing in discomfort.

“answer. me.” you demand. he never heard you like that before, your voice still soft while spitting mean words. this only made his cock twitch inside his fist, a muffled moan coming from his parted lips. “you’re a naughty, naughty boy”

“‘m sorry!” matt managed to speak, raising his forearm and putting it across his face in a way to hide his lewd expression. he covered his eyes, thinking it was your hand wrapped around his cock, lazily stroking it. “i-i… i need you to keep talking, please”

“give me one good fucking reason, matt. one reason why i should keep talking while you jerk that tiny cock of yours” you hear a loud whine coming from the speaker, as if he was about to cry. you couldn’t help but chuckle at his desperation, wondering how flushed his cheeks would look. you knew he was dripping sweat, his long, slender fingers probably rubbing his slit as he pumped his length — and you were the only thing on his mind. “because” matt started, taking a deep breath. “because i never… never did this before”

“phone sex?” you ask, and he whines again. he was so frustrated. “no!” matt mumbled, a pout forming on his lips. “n-never… came”. you got startled at his confession, adjusting your position in bed, a smirk unwittingly forming on your lips. “you’ve never had an orgasm baby? is that what you’re telling me?”

you can’t see it, but matt nods. “call me that again, please” he pleads, small whimpers coming from the back of his throat. he wanted to be your baby. “aw, is that why you’re so whiny, baby? my little virgin boy never came? not even inside his pants?”

“h-have” he continues. you can now clearly hear the sound of his wetness taking over, the pre-cum oozing from his tip making his cock slippery. “but only… in dreams” matt confesses, causing you to smile at his innocence. “and then you wake up all sticky, baby?”

matt hums through the speaker, his whimpers turning into moans as he approached his high. “do you feel that thing on your tummy sweetie? that’s when you know you’re close” you instruct him, and matt instantly answers. “c-close” he says, not sure when to stop.

“so let it all out yeah?” you coo, feeling your own heat getting harder to ignore, the wetness from your pussy leaving a spot on your panties. “cum for me” was all you needed to say to hear matt’s cries, a loud groan taking over your earphones as he orgasmed for the first time. spams took over his body and his phone suddenly fell, his screen hitting against the wooden floor. you patiently waited as he recovered, chuckling when he got his phone back. “felt good?” you asked, knowing he was smiling on the other side. “you definitely gotta teach me more things”.

[luceafarul-de-dimineata]

How the kings would react to the shipping of them and MC

Satan

He was hanging out with his nobles, just talking gossip like normal people

But Paimon was just staying on his phone through half the conversations

"Paimon! What's so important that you're not interested in seing Sitri's baby pictures?"

Sitri was dying in the corner while Zagan was rubbing his back

Paimon takes his eyes out of his phone and giggles.

"Oh, I was just arguing with some people onlineeee"

Satan puts down the pictures of baby Sitri on the table (which Astaroth swiftly takes for himself. This will make such great blackmail material) and sits next to Paimon curiously.

"What are these dumpass arguing about now? Don't tell me Leraye started sending death threats to Barbatos over the weather again."

"Noooooo, it's better than thaaaaat. People are arguing about who the child of Solomon would dateeeee"

Satan takes Paimon's phone and starts to scroll through the comversations.

"And I'm winning, right? I mean MC has a pact with me, I was the first to meet them, it's obvious that I'm the one they'll choose"

"I know, riiiiiight?"

Satan would become the most active person in the shipping forum, just spamming it with pictures of him and MC

It's a way to assert his dominance over the whole thing.

Gamigin almost started a war between Paradise Lost and Gehenna when he started insulting Satan under his photos of MC

Mod Jjok had to work overtime to stop the harassment everyone in Gehenna was throwing at Gamigin for that

Lucifer had to send a formal apologise on behalf of his son to stop the situation from escalating further.

Mammon

Recently Eligos asked him to try on different fashion styles

At some point Mammon asks Eligos what this is all about

"The child of Solomon mentioned that they are interested in gothic fashion, so I'm trying to see what clothing would fit you and abide by goth fashion rules."

Mammon chuckles and ruffles Eligos' hair before telling him that he is already to his master's liking

"But there are a lot of people that claim that MC would be more interested in the other kings. We can't have that! Just yesterday Amon was bragging that MC and Beelzebub went on a date!"

"I'm glad they had fun with Beelzebub, but Beelzebub is mine and I am MC's. They can have fun with anyone they please."

Eligos' jaw drops to the floor. He gets flashbacks of all the arguments he had online about this and how he bought bots to mass report any Mammon x Mc slander

Eligos constantly tries to convince Mammon that the shipping wars are a big but Mammon doesn't really care.

At most he sends pictures of him and MC cuddling to Satan to spite him like all good friends do with eachother.

Leviathan

Leviathan is a lurker through the forums

It's where he got most of his information about you before kidnapping you

Probably reports all posts that aren't for the ship with him and you for false information

He would constantly post pictures of you and him doing mundane things with captions like "Living life perfectly", "Greatest day of my life", "Me and my wonderful significant other"

Makes everyone in Hades like his post and floud it with compliments

He'll make an account for you where he roleplays as a version of you that's madly innlove with you

The most likely to start an actual war between Hades and whatever ship is trending that morning

He sometimes doesn't sleep and just scrolls through the forums, refreshing constantly to see if you're having fun with someone else

King of all doxxers

No VPN will protect you from Leviathan's wrath

Beelzebub

Beelzebub was tied to his office chair with Bael glaring at him

"Go on, look at the complaint. What does it say?"

"I should take a vacation. I'm already burned out. You know, overworking is very bad for your health."

Bael glares at him with not an ounce of amusement behind his eyes

When Beelzebub skims through the files, something catches his attention

"Threat of war from Hades? I don't remember going to Hades recently, what happened?"

"While you were away having fun with the child of Solomon, Amon posted pictures of you two going at it on a forum. Next thing I know, his majesty Leviathan declared war on Avisos. I had to talk him out of it, but we now have to write a report about what happened and send it to the other kingdoms to tell them that it was resolved without any casualties."

Beelzebub was laughing his ass off while Bael was question his life choices

Beelzebub asks Amon to show him the forum which the younger devil does happily.

He sometimes go through it often, but he uses it as a way to find out where you are.

He's chiller about the whole thing, finding it kind of funny that so many people are so invested in your love life

Lucifer

Gamigin won't shut up about it.

If Lucifer took a shot every time Gamigin complained about the shipping wars, he'll dethrone Beelzebub as the king of Gluttuny

Lucifer is a softer lover, only being intense in more private parts of your relationship

So even getting him to kiss you in public (or outside the bedroom) is very hard.

This makes Gamigin's job as a shipper very hard

Lucifer finds the shipping war situation absurd

Why would anyone do this? What is it accompleshing? Why does he suddently get embargos from Hades or Gehenna after he goes on a date with you?

He'll probably have to sit Gamigin down and tell him to stop calling the other kings rude names just because they hang out with you.

It really depends on your reaction to everything as well

If you like being in the spot light, than he'll try to be more open with his affection, giving Gamigin more oportunities to gush about you online

If you want to keep your relationship more private, than he'll make all cameras fracture when pointing at the two of you

[reiderwriter]

Here Isn't Where I Wanna Be

Chapter Four of I Can't Help Myself

Summary: With Spencer gone, you find yourself spiralling into anger again until a new friend - and a silver lining to your entire situation - appears.

Warnings: Unplanned pregnancy, mentions of the smut in the last chapter in detail, no explicit smut.

A/N: And so we get to it - the plot!! If you're enjoying the series, let me know in the replies or in my inbox, and feedback is greatly appreciated~♡

Masterlist || Add yourself to the taglist

With Mondays back to normal, you were surprised to find yourself still under the weather the day after Spencer had left you. 

Walking into your office, your body anticipated the fight, muscles tensing, heart beating, blood pumping as you opened the door to your office. Logically, you knew he wouldn't be there. He'd practically shouted it at you the Saturday before. But seeing the vacant desk left you angry once again. 

Tense for a fight, you couldn't stop pacing back and forth in your office as the hours ticked on. A small part of you had hoped that the activities you'd indulged in during the weekend - and indulged was the word for whatever it was you'd done - had simply been your over active imagination once again. 

But even though Spencer has cleaned you up to the best of his ability, had left you in your bed in fresh clothes and tucked under the covers, he couldn't erase the traces of himself on your skin or in your apartment. 

The files you'd both thrown around on the tables were still strewn haphazardly around, the tangle of last night's clothes still discarded suggestively in a line to your couch. He'd washed you up, sure enough, and you'd found a towel and wash cloth in your laundry basket the next morning, but he'd not done a thorough job and you found yourself washing all traces of your activities away from your inner thighs still. 

So, yes. You paced in your office, and you waged a silent war against the empty desk. 

The first week, you were sure they'd come to collect it, to move it elsewhere. 

After all, his time with you - with the university - was done. 

After two weeks, you started spreading yourself out across both desks, twisting them around into an inverted L space so you could roll your chair between the two of them. You stacked books on the stupid reminder of him, you used it as a dining table on late nights and short lunch breaks, you kicked your feet up on it as you read and acted as though it were yours and had never been anyone else's. 

And then you got angry enough that you unblocked Spencer Reid's number. 

You were raging and suffering this torment alone, and why should you be? You'd made a mistake with the case files, sure, but you'd been driven to it by his cockiness, his actions. You deserved the chance to make his life hell one last time as well. 

You took yourself home that night, wrapped yourself in a blanket and pulled your laptop in front of you, and unblocked his number. 

Immediately, you put the phone down and opened your emails. 

You'd take responsibility for the messages, sure, but you had not blocked his email. Searching through the files, you looked through your department database for his work email, searched your inbox for his messages, and came up blank. 

It took you two hours of traipsing through each email - admittedly, you'd probably signed up to one to many mailing list - just to be sure. You finally turned to your spam folder, and there it was. 

“Son of a bitch,” you muttered under your breath as you looked through ten emails. Ten emails from his FBI email account. No wonder they hadn't gotten throug, it was an unauthorised email on a company server. 

You only grew angrier as you read through the messages. 

“Y/N, I have reason to believe you have a file I need as soon as possible. Please message me back as soon as you get this. Spencer.”

“Y/N. I haven't received word from you in 24 hours. If there's something wrong, please reach out. If you're being stubborn, I hope you see reason. Spencer.”

“Y/N. I have your address. If you don't reply in the next four hours, I will be paying you a visit to collect the file myself. You have blocked my number and resisted adult conversation, and I am tired of playing these games. Spencer.”

Sick of playing games? 

From the man that had been playing jenga and scrabble with your bookshelves, that was absolutely rich. You may have worked out that nights frustrations with him easily, but you found yourself angry all over again.

You hadn't even checked your phone yet either, sure that he'd blown that up too until he figured out his number was blocked. 

He'd found your address. He'd practically stalked you to get what he wanted, and then he'd just washed his hands of you the night after? 

It had been a month, and you were still frustrated. 

Your stomach flipped, bike rising in your throat as your anger burned through you.

If he could find you, you sure as hell could find him. You'd assumed he'd found your address through work, and realised it was just as easy to find his as well.  

Before you could stop yourself, you were loading yourself into a car at 8 pm. and driving across the city to Spencer Reid's apartment. 

The red blurring your vision didn't fade until you sounded against his door and were greeted with an entirely too feminine “I'm coming!” 

The woman who opened the door was blonde and cute and sweet, and she had a wonderful smile. You were going to rip Spencer Reid's throat from his chest. 

“I-I’m sorry, I was told this is Spencer Reid's apartment,” you said, trying your best to disappear into the night.

“Oh, yes. Can I help you?” 

“No. No, I'm sorry, I- I don't need help.” 

You must've looked uneasy in that second because before you knew it, the woman was inviting you inside for a hot drink, taking your few seconds of hesitancy to push down your guards completely. 

“Spencer doesn't keep much here in terms of food, but I know there has to be some…aha! Coffee!” 

“No, thank you, really I'm alright, I should leave-” 

In another two minutes, she'd talked you into sitting down and had put a mug in your hands. In a miracle turn of events, you'd actually relaxed enough to take in your surroundings. 

It was like you'd stepped back into your work office. Spencer's apartment, or at least the main living space, was filled with books. There were stacks everywhere, the shelves alphabetised - obviously - and looking neatly chaotic. 

You wanted to examine everything, every picture, every trinket on the shelf, every weakness he had that you could exploit. You wanted to know him. 

“S-So,” you started, turning back to the woman who'd sat herself down in a chair opposite you, staring at you excitedly. “How long have you and Spencer been dating?” 

The woman spluttered her coffee before sending up a howl of laughter that had your cheeks heating. 

Okay. Misunderstanding. You were less pissed at Spencer, but only a fraction.

“Oh, god, the idea of me and the good doctor is incredibly ridiculous. No, it feels incestuous, actually. Really, like shivers down my spine type stuff.”

“So you're his sister?” You asked, even though you knew the answer. Spencer was an only child. You had spent three months with him, you knew at least that much about him. 

“I'm Penelope, I work with Spencer. He's on a case right now, and I came to find him a book.” 

“A book?” You asked again, taking another sip of your drink. Mistake aside, you felt comfortable sitting with her. The couch was comfy, the entire apartment was damn cosy, and it smelt….

Your spine straightened when you realised it smelt like he did, when you realised that thought was somehow a comfort to you. Your stomach had settled for the first time in a week, and the nausea leaving your body after four weeks of anger had made you sick. 

“Yeah, we've been working back to back cases, so he didn't have time to come back and pick up materials, so here I am as his little fairy godfriend to send him a care package.” 

You laughed gently and pulled your feet underneath you on the couch, curling up again. 

“He doesn't deserve you.” 

“What makes you say that?” Her face was open. Her tone was light  but you felt that you'd just walked into a trap. Even though Penelope had described her role on the team to you (not a profiler, not a big risk), you couldn't help but feel as though you were walking into a trap. 

“Well, he's… he's… You know the man better than I do, right? He's infuriating.”

She raised an eyebrow and gave you a smile but didn't say a word. 

“He's domineering. He thinks his way is the best way, he- he- he rearranged my bookshelves!” 

And my guts, you thought to yourself, holding your tongue just quick enough to not let that slip out. You still weren't sure where you stood on the sex. It was good. It was great. It was more than great, and yet you'd hated him until the very second he put his lips on yours, and you hated him again when you'd woken the next morning. Surely that meant that you'd still hated him while fucking him, that you'd just been temporarily blinded by lust? 

“Your bookshelves?” 

“At the university. Sorry, I- I didn't introduce myself, did I?” You told her your name, how you'd met Spencer and regaled her with tales of your office antics. 

“Penelope you, you should've seen the look on his face. It was priceless! Like a deer in headlights, his eyes were so wide, it was adorable,” you said, recounting the run-in with the student. 

“And then, infuriating man, he said he'd spent all day looking at me, but like, with the books-” 

You realised after five minutes of talking that Penelope had gone completely quiet, just grinning. Uncharacteristically quiet. You'd known her less than an hour, and you knew it was uncharacteristic for her to be so quiet. 

“So you hate him?” She asked, noticing your abrupt stop. 

“I- yes. Yes, I did. I do."

“It doesn't sound like you-” 

“We- we parted on really bad terms. I think. I took one of your files accidentally, and he was very angry, we both said some things-” And did some other things, you thought. 

“Things that I'm sure we both regret.” 

“Oh my god-” the other woman said, suddenly going wide-eyed and jumping up from the couch. 

“You're the- you're the reason he was late! He's never been late, never, apart from - well anyway he's never late but he was late and… oh Miss Y/N, you're not telling me everything!” 

“What? N-No, I don't know what you're-” 

“Luke owes me $20. This is wonderful. Look at me, I'm not even a fancy shmancy profiler or anything!” 

“Penelope please-” 

She heard the plea in your tone and sat down again, zipping her lips up and throwing away a non-existent key. 

“While we were…arguing, he accused me of having blocked his email, ignoring him on purpose. I found out today that he emailed from his FBI account and not his university email-” 

“So it was sent to your spam folder? Yeah, it happens all the time.” 

You shot her a tired look, and she repeated her action. Lips zipped, key thrown.

“I came here to….” To what? Fight with him again? See him again? To one up him? To kiss him again, feel his hands on you, feel his fingers inside of you, his tongue on your clit as you rode his face again, his hands around your throat as you came on his dick, as he blew his load inside you, filling you with his cum- 

“Shit.” 

“Shit? What's… what is shit, Y/N? Please enlighten me, because everything seems very not shit to me right now, other than the fact that I'm due a video call from our boy wonder soon and I haven't located this book yet.

You counted in your head and then recounted again as all the blood drained from your body. You didn't even want to acknowledge the fact that you'd come here just to see him again  using whatever old excuse you could find to get back into his arms (or more accurately, his bed). 

You counted, and you counted again until your brain fogged, and you couldn't even hear Penelope asking you if you were alright anymore. 

“Penelope, I- I think… Penelope, can you keep a secret?” 

“Yes, I can absolutely keep a secret. I'm a great secret keeper. Everyone says if you want a secret keeping, Penelope is your girl-” 

“Okay, that's- that's enough. I need to- shit, I need to go and get…” 

For the thousandth time since Spencer left, you stood up and started pacing. 

“Okay, now you're worrying me, friend I just made. Please don't freak out on me.” 

“I'm sorry, I'm going to freak out, I think I'm pregnant. Very much freaking out.”

All of a sudden, Penelope was up and pacing beside you. 

“Pregnant! With a baby? You think you're pregnant with a baby?”

“I don't see how I could be pregnant with anything else?” 

“You're sure?”

“No! I need a test or a sign from God or something.” 

The woman took a deep breath herself and then grabbed your shoulders, hauling you to her side. 

“Okay, breathe. You sit here, I’ll go pick up a test. Don't go anywhere and don't spiral. Rearrange the bookshelves of you must but don't. Leave. Okay?” 

You nodded, and she rushed out of the door in a whirlwind.

For at least ten minutes, you stayed completely still. It had been roughly seven weeks since your last period and 26 days since you and Spencer had sex. He hadn't pulled out. He hadn't worn a condom. He hadn't asked if you were on birth control. As much as you wanted to be angry, though, you hadn't told him to pull out. You hadn't stopped him and asked him to put on a condom, and if you were telling the truth, you enjoyed it all the more when he'd finished inside you. You'd forgotten that you'd gone off your birth control when you'd started your job, knowing that tenure came with health insurance and wanting to get the implant cheaper or included in your premium. 

What a brilliant plan.

Still, you weren't expecting this, and you were in a haze. 

Seven weeks. You'd missed a period, and you hadn't even noticed. 

You stopped spiralling when you paced into the bookshelves and started actually looking at the things laid about on his shelves. 

There were chess pieces, small rooks placed here and there, as if dropped and forgotten. Paper stuck out of the books at all different angles, and you noticed his looping scrawl on a few of them, his notes brief and indecipherable, but still bringing a faint smile to your lips. 

Then there were the pictures. There were a lot with an older woman you instantly recognised as his mother, and your heart softened as how they looked very protective of one another. Others showed him with his team, with Penelope, and a stern looking middle-aged man, two women, a happy looking, well-built man. There were weddings, faces that popped up here and there. There was a very young, very vulnerable looking Spencer playing chess with an older man. 

The room was filled with family, and you couldn't stop the tears from welling up in your eyes as you took in how much Spencer could love. 

He cared, and he cared deeply, and there were all these people in his life that enjoyed being around him. And he hated you. 

Your heart sank, and you were about to leave when Penelope appeared again, test in hand and gently pushed you into the bathroom. 

You took the test and waited. Penelope waited beside you, clutching your (clean) hands in hers as she talked you through her day, distracting you in the only way she could.

But your brain resisted everything, focused only on how you were about to grow a family with a man you knew didn't enjoy your company. 

“What am I going to do, Penelope?” You whispered, suddenly afraid of what your future looked like. 

“I can't - I can't raise a baby with a man that doesn't love me the way-” 

You ran a hand through your hair, biting your tongue quickly. 

“You don't have to answer me, but is it… is there a chance it could be Spencer's?” 

You nodded before you could even think of lying, too wrapped up in your mental to-do list building up and up and up. 

“It could be negative? This could just be panic and stress and-” 

You heard the alarm you'd set for the test go off and jumped up, sprinting into the bathroom. 

Two lines. What did two lines mean? Two lines meant baby. 

Baby. You were having a baby. 

“Y/N, what does it say?” Penelope asked from behind you. 

“It's… I'm…shit.” 

She came up behind you and looked herself, cursing the same way you did as she watched you for your reaction. 

There was a baby. You were going to have a baby. 

Okay. You could have a baby. You could bring a baby into this world. You just had to figure out how, and write a to-do list, and avoid telling your boss until you got tenure, and tell your parents, and tell Spencer. 

Spencer. 

You had to Spencer. You collapsed to the ground, mumbling to yourself as Penelope fanned you with her hands, squeaking at your unresponsiveness. 

“Spencer…” you mumbled. “I have to tell Spencer.”

You blinked the fog out of your eyes and stood quickly, absent mindedly making a note to check if sudden movements were good for the baby or not. 

“Penelope, I need some help,” you said, moving to the living room and pulling our your phone. She trailed behind you, sending you a worrying look, and you thanked the heavens that you'd managed to run into the most forgiving angel of a woman on quite possible the best/worst day of your life. The jury waa still undecided. 

You snapped a picture of the shelves, and then, throwing your phone down, you started tearing each stack apart. 

Once you'd made a large enough gap in the stacks, you turned back to Penelope. 

“We're going to tell Spencer. Like this.” 

🔖@stillhere197 @understandingsunrise @mindfullycriminal @aliteralsemicolon @r-3dlips @alexafromamazon15 @jasf444 @subunitless @thebloomingeagle @lackingoriginalthoughts @empressgraytea @nox-sprite @alondralolll @allspicestones @chiyozai @i_heart_mgg @2hiigh2cry @tiyuel @jiuseoks @readinglatenights @placidus @dreamsarebig @pisceslovrr @waywardgoddess66 @tampon_racecar @kbaby-024 @luvdella @feyresqueen @a1dyn @pleasantwitchgarden @kolasbombaf @lovehadlovelost @kissesforspence @moonchildooh @bubbleebubz @theoraekenslover @melagem02 @calypso-read @ari-aurelia @flipsideoflife @spicyspirit @donttrustlove @chicaconfundidaycuriosa @ivet4 @nox-xie @sarakay-gvf @miss-ev @nvrlandqueen

[nobodysavemysoulitsperfectlyfine]

Incorrect Percy Jackson Quotes as things my friends and I have said except I literally forgot the context.

Percy Jackson: "No. I will eat him. Swallow him whole. Shove him down my gullet. You underestimate how much I need him seasoned, battered, baked or fried."

Annabeth Chase: "No, the stupidest thing I've ever heard is anything Jk Rowling ever said."

Jason Grace: (screaming at the top of his lungs) "WHO EVEN IS JEMIMAH THE CONQUEROR??"

Leo Valdez: (breaking out into song whenever the room is quiet)

Piper Mclean: (In front of literal police) "It's because I stole it."

Frank Zhang: (Standing in front of a very wealthy house in the middle of the poorest county in the state) "What? I'm not rich."

Hazel Levesque: (Relentlessly being bullied for looking like a horse girl)

Nico Di Angelo: "I know it's midnight and we don't live here, but I really want to go out in the woods right now."

Will Sollace: "How could there possibly be THIS many things wrong with you?? What the hell?"

Chris Rodriguez: (Spamming calls and texts) "HOW COME EVERY TIME I TAKE COUGH MEDICINE I HAVE VIVID NIGHTMARES OF BEING IN FUCKING LEAGUE OF LEGENDS. I DON'T WANT THEM."

Octavian: "No, I'm really manipulative. It's gotten to a point where I don't even notice, but you guys should keep that in mind."

Reyna Avila Ramirez Allerano: (Aiming nerf guns stolen from a group of rotten kids) "JUSTICE!!"

Dakota: (Taking a drink of literally anything carbonated and visibly twitching uncomfortably) "Ew." (Drinking again) "Ew. Disgusting." (Drinking it again)

Mr. D: "Would you please STOP MAKING BABIES IF YOU DON'T WANT TO RAISE THEM."

Lester Papadopoulos: "How is it that every time a thunderstorm rolls around I have a psychotic break? Like, I have a feeling that's not just anxiety."

Meg Mcaffery: "I always thought Unicorns would be fatter."

Luke Castellan: "Guys, do you think I have bad morals?" (everyone saying yes in unison)

Alex Fierro: (Only ever using hoe as a pronoun when talking about someone to their face)

Magnus Chase: (Being forced to eat an orange peel covered in salt after saying he was bored while other people watched and recorded him gag)

Austin Lake:(Playing Sailor Song every moment he gets the chance)

Rachel Dare: "You know there's a Greek word for that? That describes exactly what you are?"

Georgina: "Right Now my Mom's waiting outside for and I quote "Biker Bitch". It's like a fairy tale."

Rhea: "I genuinely, and wholeheartedly believe that MOST of the world's problems would be solved if all men got a decent pegging. Every world leader, politician, everyone." (Continues to debate this perfectly for twenty minutes)

Ethan Nakumara: "Guys do your parents have nemisisees?"

Litreysis: "My entire face hates me."

Blitzen: "By Peach do you mean fruit or ass?"

Hearth: (Signing slurs in public to his boyfriend while smiling kindly)

Commodus: (Harassing the guy dressed up as Santa by repeatedly smacking his fake stomach and calling his ass a bowl full of jelly)

Thomas Jefferson Junior: "You're only a whore mentally."

Mallory Keen: (Prank calling some poor woman and screaming random scottish as loud as possible)

Marcus: "I'm gonna boil one of them alive and make the other watch."

Samirah Al Abbas: (frowning in response to seeing her friend's scores on the empathy test)

Arrow of Dodona: "Probably cause I am in the woods. They thought I got lost."

Ella The Harpy: (Rewrighting Heather's as a Biden x Trump musical with other world leaders as the Heathers)

I'm tired maybe I'll do more tomorrow or never

[madelynraemunson]

i need to know if we ever get jealous of eddie’s said short lived relationships. do we ever try to sabotage them? or are we the type to try and get along with them and thats when they’re like “oh no you two need to be together?”

(i know the answer in my heart but i want to hear what you think lol)

ex husband!eddie x reader

whaaat? sabotage eddie's relationships? 😵 that's diabolical. why on earth would we do that?

that one time we showed up to his house wearing a sundress after months of wearing sweats was TOTALLY unplanned! we had a date, after all.

and that one time we were dancing with eddie at the family bbq, rocking out to all our favorite songs like careless teenagers right in front of girlfriend #3 was all a ploy by our kiddos! right, kids? right? we do everything for the kids. they love seeing their parents happy and getting along. right, kids?

and are you really still on about the day of eli's talent show?? 🤦🏻‍♀️ we only asked girlfriend #9 to take a family photo of us because she was the only one that was around. that's all 😇 and she shouldn't be mad at us! eli LOVES taking pics with mommy and daddy. who is she to get in the way of a family, especially when kids are involved 🤨😤 (also, we didn't MAKE eddie place his hand where he did in the pictures. he literally did it by himself, on his own terms.)💋

...okay, bunnie you got me! we know damn well what we're doing 😅 but quite frankly, so does eddie.

you've got a date with david tonight. in fact, eddie knows was nice enough to house sit for you and help the kids with homework. an innocent, sweet little gesture. right?

you and david are watching a movie on his couch and things are getting steamy really fast. david is about to kiss you when...

RING! RING!

you pull away immediately. checking your phone to see who it is, you realize,

"it's my ex husband, that fucker. the house better be burning down." you go to answer it. "yes?"

“hey, sweetheart, this is eddie...the banished." he greets you. “i can't seem to find the measuring tape and was wondering if you knew where it was."

you're unsure as to why he would even need measuring tape. regardless, you reply,

"it's in with drawer of miscellaneous stuff. the one by the kitchen sink.”

"ahh, that's right. found it. thanks, babe."

but that's not the only useless call of the night. as your date with david continues, the calls keep coming through in seemingly calculated intervals. at the worst possible times. with the most irrelevant fucking questions.

“i can't find the baking soda." “where do you keep the batteries? the c batteries not the double As." "hey, just a heads up, you might wanna call somebody for this pipe." "what's the wifi password again?"

"EMUNSON1986!" you hiss. "the year you graduated high school."

"aww, really?" eddie coos. "that's endearing. thanks baby."

eventually after an hour, the calls stop. you and david were able to finish the movie, and get back to that steamy interaction before you were spammed mercilessly. david is now fiddling with your straps as you two are kissing, his available hand grazing your lower back, breath hitching when —

RING! RING!

"jesus h CHRIST!" you howl. "it's midnight for god's sake. this better be important. HELLO?”

"sorry," eddie mumbles on the other line. "remind me, i'm looking at your snake plant and was wondering how often these guys need watering? they look a little parched."

"once a day and i already did it," you say through gritted teeth.

"it's a new day, should they be watered again?"

"don't worry about it, eds."

"i always worry, sweetheart.”

david happens to hear this. giving you a side eye now, your date watches as you stay on the line with eddie for a couple of minutes. finally, you get eddie to agree to stop calling, which fills you with relief when you hang up the phone. your eyes then travel back to david, whom you begin to bat your flirty lashes at.

"now." you say. "where were we?"

"you should probably go home," david huffs. "looks like the fort still needs holding down."

you're seeing absolute red now. you are seething. that motherfucker.

your drive home is an angry, and sexually frustrated one. you can't believe eddie would sabotage your date like this, your only fun night out this week. he's in for it now.

"date ended early sweetheart?" eddie pouts at you the moment you walk into your house.

"bedroom," you order. "now."

tagging peeps who seemed interested in this lil universe! as always thank you for reading 💋

@highinmiamiii @potatobeans99 @mediocredreams @joshlmbrt @eddiesxangel @enam3l @mmunson86 @davidblowies-blog @thatissonnina @oskea93 @aurora-austen @lesservillain @madeofmunson @xxbimbobunnyxx @eddiesghxst @munsonssweets @nailbatanddungeon @swiss-mrs @winchester-angel @belokhvostikova @curlyjoequinn @strangereads @marrowfrog00 @shadyunknowncreation @tuolcaniacoc @catherinnn @prestinalove @pleuviors @cinemabean @calumfmu @littlexdeaths @let-the-music-take-c0ntrol @meetmeatyourworst @b-irock @spencerssatchel

divider by: @cafekitsune

[obsidianpen]

PSA: if you are not interested in reading about ‘fandom drama’, please skip this post. You are responsible for your internet experience. If, however, you care about exposing bullies and POS in fandom spaces (specifically the tomione fandom in this case), carry on.

I’m posting a document here that was recently shared with me. It’s about Greyana (if you don’t already know who this is, you’re not missing out, and I encourage you to ignore this post). Specifically, it’s about what a horrible person Greyana is in the fandom. I did not write it. I didn’t know about most of this until it was shared with me, including the parts where she attacked me specifically. I won’t go into all the details of what’s in this, but the short version is: Greyana has a history of harassing other writers, using alt accounts across multiple platforms to promote her work, employing bots to promote her work, using generative AI to write as much as she has in the first place (which means she has stolen from other writers to do so), and more. There is a reason she exists (as herself, anyway) only on specific platforms. Tumblr users didn’t put up with her shit and called her out, so she left. I therefore know I’m sort of speaking to the choir here, but I wanted to put this document out there. I probably should have shared it sooner, I just really didn’t want to get involved because she doesn’t deserve my attention. Now, however, I am, and I’m giving it to her… because this is about more than that.

I don’t like bullies. I don’t like malicious hypocrites, I don’t like liars, I don't like thieves, I don’t like people in fandom spaces tearing others down when we should be building each up and supporting each other, and I don’t like when it is painfully obvious that someone only cares about stats, about being ‘the best’ and about monetizing fanfiction in whatever way they can get away with (such as via TikTok). This isn’t about ‘fandom drama’ at this point. It’s about setting the precedent that this kind of deplorable behavior isn’t acceptable anywhere; that being abusive, deceptive, and malicious because ‘it’s only fanfiction’ does not make it tolerable.

The point in sharing this is simply to let people know. I’m not asking or telling anyone to do anything specific, although I encourage you strongly to not support her and people like her. These are the types of people who ruin fandom spaces. Who make other writers stop writing and feel good about themselves when they succeed in doing so. Actually, here’s something I’ll ask: if you like Voldemort/Hermione as a pairing and have considered writing it, now would be a great time! Because she has recently started spamming her volmione fic as though it is the only one worth reading, as though there simply aren’t any good ones out there (this is going to shock you, but there are), slamming those other fics, etc. 

Here is the link to the document again. It’s also posted below. It’s public. And keep in mind, this is only the shit that people thought to capture in screenshots before she deleted things. 

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1Y4v_kUHBapUyqUqc4yOkD1TjduIO8pBk/view?usp=drive_link

[xaer1s]

ㅤㅤ ❛ ㅤ✿ ──────​ ridiculously yours ⸝⸝

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ[ 박종성 ] ─── PARK JONGSEONG​ ⨾ ENHYPEN

ㅤㅤsynopsis:ㅤcoming home even more exhausted than any other day, practically dragging yourself, right into your loving and pampering husband’s waiting arms; jay can’t wait to show you just how much he loves his cute little wife.ㅤ⨾ㅤwarnings:ㅤnsfw!!, oral (f receiving), pet names, so very sweet jay, small clit & breast play, fluff, lmk if missed anything & sorry for possible mistakes!!ㅤ;ㅤword count:ㅤ0,8kㅤ;ㅤa/n.:ㅤ--

ㅤㅤ › ARCHiVE ; NAViGATiON ・・・・・; ✉︎ message me on: @smnxi ; please reblog and follow if you like my posts! do not spam likes, or you'll be blocked, sorry! ♡

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ• . ˚ ⋆ . ｡.

. . . sweet-husband!jay who waits you at your shared apartment with the brightest smile and warmest hugs and cuddles after the draining work you had that day. unfortunately for him, poor you were so tired, a simple walk to the bedroom was a great challenge. frustration was just hot and fresh inside your veins, threatening to lash out at any time at anyone. you were on the mood sure, but he knew exactly what to do when this happens and you knew you were in good hands.

sweet-husband!jay who carries you to your bedroom as a doting man should do with his wife, gently cradling you against his hard chest, your arms around his neck, feet dangling off as he held you in bridal style, taking much care and avoiding to bump you into any harsh corner on the way.

sweet-husband!jay who after arriving, undresses you as if you’re the most precious gift he ever encountered. stopping at each piece of clothing, letting his adorning but still hungry for you gaze travel over you, taking in all your curves and every single inch of your skin. his hands itching to reach out to touch you, even the smallest swipe of his fingers across your arms are enough for him.

sweet-husband!jay who asks permission first before letting his hand wander towards your intimate areas. the pads of his fingers brushing the swell of your breasts, his thumbs circling around your half-hard nipples, coaxing them to life before flicking over them a few times.

“may i, sweetheart?..” he looked at you with nothing but pure adoration shining in his lust darkened pupils. now his hands slowly rubbing up and down on the inside of your thighs, your heat already radiating off of you with your maddening lust scenting/wafting the room, his head dizzy and light.

sweet-husband!jay who after your approval, let’s his fingers brush against you, just shy of touch against your wet folds. his thumbs parting the swelled? lips, revealing the throbbing, bundle of nerves hidden beneath, so eager, just like him to give you pleasure. the sigh only has his wet muscle dart out swiftly to wet at his lips.

sweet-husband!jay who starts with clit play, grazing your oversensitive flesh now more determined, finding delight in the way the inside of your thighs tremble, the urge to get a grip at his wrist and shove his fingers inside your pussy painted all over your pretty, pleasure-contorted face.

sweet-husband!jay who instead of watching his fingers roll, pinch and tug on the bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs, be drinking up all your reactions and noises, feeling his own cock throb painfully in his sweats, yet his top priority remains purely you.

sweet-husband!jay who has formed a small, cute wet patch on the front of the clothing he was already so uncomfortable in. leaking and ruining his underwear just at the sigh of you taking everything so prettily he has to offer; your reactions making it so goddamn hard not to just pounce on you and bury himself in your inviting warmth.

sweet-husband!jay who learned everything about his sweet girl when it come to pleasure, knowing how he has you already close to release by the way your thighs clench and tremble around his hand. a bit surprised but not shocked, your sexual frustration probably through the roof so instead he quickly pumps his middle finger inside your soaked up cunt, wanting to feel you squeeze around him when you come apart.

sweet-husband!jay who gently cooes at you, with his head lowered next to your ear to talk directly against it with his warm breath fanning on your beck, feeling goosebumps rising on every inch of your skin.

“is my baby close, hm? let go, sweetheart..” jay encourages you further, his digit pumping steadily in your clutching heat while his thumb rubbed furious circles over you swelled clit, sneaking in a few small pinch and roll, enjoying the way your breath catches in your throat, your plump lips falling apart a bit every single time the pleasure-pain shoots through you.

sweet-husband!jay who helps in enjoying your high to the most, raining gentle kisses over your jaw and temple as your tummy flexes then trembles. he keeps a firm hold around your torso, doing his best to halt your trashing around, making sure you only focus on the sensations.

sweet-husband!jay who cleans up you so thoroughly that you feel bad deep in your heart at the way he always treats you with so much fucking care. he soothes your warmed up and sweaty skin with small rubs across your legs and sides, gently tucking you against his comforting, firm chest.

sweet-husband!jay who wants absolutely nothing in return and will refuse it even when you want to repay with the best of your heart and intention. it was about you for him.

plagiarism is strictly forbidden, do not translate my works, copy them or publish them on another site ; @xaer1s

[scam-alerts]

❗❗Scam Update❗❗

Previously on... 🔎Scam Exam(ination)🔍

Seen as: I would like a commission of my son/pet... Scam Type: Commission Scam

Please read this post for a complete rundown of this scam.

While browsing #scams on tumblr earlier today, I saw a post from the wonderful and very talented @louksna-0 where they were calling out a scam account that seemed to be running the art commission scam.

After messaging them.. I found out something... interesting.

The scammers are now changing their script.

@louksna-0 was kind enough to answer some questions and help explain their interactions with this scammer with me, and even provided me with some screenshots which I'll show you all as well.

----------

Part 1 - How it start(s/ed)

Note: @louksna-0 has told me that due to being blocked, they cannot access their conversation with this scammer, but they were kind enough to detail their conversation with me to the best of their ability. :)

@scam-alerts: When this person messaged you for a commission, what did they ask you to draw? What was your response, and what sort of images did they provide?

@louksna-0: They asked me to draw two cartoon portraits of a girl with blue eyes and blonde hair, it was 2 photos, but the second seemed to be taken from a video, not a photo itself. I told her alright, the two were separate drawings, one for $18, the other $20. $38 in the end. She started pressuring me for the details of the commission to get the process finished, being cold and even rude.

@scam-alerts: Did you tell them a price first, or did they offer you money first? Was this amount higher than normal, or was it the price of your commissions?

@louksna-0: I told them the price first, they didn't offer a price to pay. They were pressuring me to tell them the final price.

@louksna-0: I say them because although the profile seems like a girl. Her account of PayPal, email confirmation and Tumblr were all different. So I can't really say their gender. Her profile said Elizabeth, her email said mayes Mary, and her PayPal account said Margaret castro.

These were the screenshots provided to me:

image 1 - The scammer getting very persistent in having @louksna-0 check their spam email for confirmation that the money was sent.

image 2 - The different names that appear on the PayPal, blog, and email (in that order.)

Image 3 - A screenshot of the fake email. (the same exact one that can be seen in the previous scam exam(ination) report.

Image 4 - This one is.. odd. @louksna-0 says that this was sent to them by the same email with a request telling them to send a refund, yet it has a very odd and fishy looking link. (they did not click on it.)

----------

Part 2 - Examining the Evidence

From what it looks like, the scam is pretty much the same 'I want you to draw my <thing>' scam except now they've switched from:

can you draw my son / daughter / pet. to can you draw this cartoon character*

*They might look at blogs now and see what an artists 'style' is to get a grasp on what an artist can do before trying to run this scam? Since not all artists can draw kids and/or pets? So that might be worth keeping an eye on.

They've also switched from:

Offering you a very large amount of money. to accepting commission prices to seem unsuspicious.

----------

Part 3 - What you should do now

🚩Red flags still present🚩

Blogs sending these asks are either blank or bare in one way in another. Little to no reblogs, maybe 'one' picture or two posted. In this case the scammer just had a picture of a dog that probably isn't even theirs.

They will refuse to pay with any other method than PayPal.

The purpose of asking for your real name and your PayPal email is just so they can make a fake email to scam you.

Stop. Read the email very carefully. Think about what it's asking you.

'you are to send (name) money to expand your account.' You are to send someone money, to get money.

You can't just 'expand' your account by sending another user money. That's not how PayPal works.

Emails from these scammers will always show up in your spam folder because they are not from the real PayPal service. They are 100% fake. Only trust emails about PayPal from a @paypal.com email address. Any email claiming to be from PayPal ending in a gmail/hotmail/yahoo.com address is. a. scam.

Always check your PayPal account via the website or App for issues before responding to someone and certainly before sending anyone money. If you see no issues, there are no issues.

Never click links in an email you get during or after interacting with a stranger when money is involved. If someone asks: 'did you get the email?' Check your spam folder.' Make sure you click the link to fix your account.' It's a scam. And they're probably trying to hack you.

----------

Final thoughts:

Remember, take screenshots and report these users to the websites they are running these scams on. If they DM you on tumblr? Report the DM. If they do it on insta, bsky, twitter or even discord?

Make sure you report them there too.

ALSO: Beware of recovery scammers. This is anyone coming into your DM's telling you they can 'help you get your money back' after you made a post talking about how you got scammed. These scammers are just looking for a quick buck.

I've got a whole post right here talking about what one looks like.

Take care and stay vigilant.

And thanks again to @louksna-0 for being a dear. <3

Other helpful guides on spotting scams. (by @kyra45)

[naneun-no]

On “Insecure Jikookers”…

Alright. I might lose followers for this and that’s very okay; curate your timeline and protect your peace babes. But for YEARS, every time the phrase “insecure jikooker” has come up on my feed my eyelid has done a little twitchy twitch 🤨🤨

And I have always ignored it, because I’ve never wanted to be out here policing ppl’s language and we are literally supposed to be having fun and celebrating love, like for me that’s the whole point, but —

I’ve been seeing the phrase popping up again surrounding the release of AYS and I just gotta say it.

You guys the term seems so culty 😬🥲

Like I think I get the origin (maybe)? It probably started when some of the early jikook bloggers (if you are one I salute you, I am not worthy, trust me this is NOT a dig at anyone, jikook bloggers are by and large cool and kind af 🙇‍♀️) would get these sketchy asks that were antis or cultists in disguise just casting aspersions on jikook’s bond or being blatantly homophobic and/or in general being rude little anonymous internet gremlins. Or maybe it was people who did want to believe that jikook was real but kept nagging and begging for reassurance at every turn, which I can totally see becoming annoying as hell and prompting people to start using the term.

But it feels like it’s used now as like a catchall for anyone who expresses any doubt or asks any critical questions? Even like… reasonable ones? And I used to see a lot of “hey believe what you want to believe but this is what I believe” but now it seems like the sentiment around jikooker communities has by and large become “if you don’t believe you’re an idiotic dumb person who has never known love — you’re either a rival shipper in disguise or WORSE (dun dun dunnnnn) an Insecure Jikooker — and we don’t want people like you around.”

And idk it just feels weird for a community that has always seemed to kind of pride itself on being the “rational, fact-based” ship… like we LOVE to be smug about how jikook don’t need edits to be obvious, don’t need slo-mo zooms with red circles and arrows because their chemistry and fondness and affection is just plain to see in basic footage. We’re the levelheaded ones 😌.

But doesn’t that mean that we should always be encouraging critical thinking, and if someone comes to a different conclusion than us, so be it? Like it or not, none of us have foolproof confirmation that jikook are anything more than very close friends. That’s literally all we know. The rest is our best guess based on vibes, anecdotes, dot-connecting, subtext and body language observation, experience, perception (!!This is a big one because confirmation bias is real!!), and suspicion. That’s literally it.

Look maybe I’m just projecting 😅 but when you criticize people for expressing reasonable doubt over something that is literally not confirmed, it’s just a little too religious fundamentalist for me! (This is why I was a bad Christian, because I always raised my hand and asked questions the Sunday school teacher didn’t like.)

Feel free to ignore me. I never want to come across as pushy or trying to stir up anything, it’s just a phrase that grinds my gears and I’m sort of hoping I’m not alone in that… but if I am, so be it! 🤣 would love to hear people’s thoughts because maybe I’m missing something.

(P.S. If you’re a troll who spams jikook blog inboxes this is not me defending you. You’re still annoying and you need a better hobby. Have you tried yoga? Snowboarding? Fly fishing? Filming food vlogs and/or painting? You should try cooking. You should stop being an anonymous internet troll stomping on everyone’s proverbial sandcastles and instead write a poem. K bye ✌️ )

[meanbossart]

I just realized DuDrow could probably just keep some of the usual Tav musings; "These boots have seen everything" painful silence + dark stare... "Is this blood?" licks item "No, never mind." shrug. What would DuDrow specific banter / musings be, if he'd be a Origin character? When you click on him or spam click on him? (my apologies if this was asked already) Cheers x

The usual dark urge musings definitely suit him well, I don't see the need to come up with new ones because... Well, hearing the guy going "INTESTINES THROB... BLOOD WHISPERS" for 130 hours Is what shaped the man to be what he is in my head, not the other way around.

The spam click dialogues are funny though, here's some options of what those could be:

(Pompously) "Being particularly squirmy today, aren't we."

(A vast assortment of dramatic dad groans)

Gods... I'm famished. I could eat a whole... Nevermind.

(Amused and ponderous) What could this feeling be... Hunger? Desire? Boredom? Aaaaand how come it can all be sated by carnage...?

Hm. Perhaps to be plagued by visages of death and decay isn't so unusual. I should simply ask someone about it.

(Lascivious moan) Titillating.

Oh, no need to stop on my behalf.

[felibrary]

cellphone love story — osamu dazai

*+ﾟsynopsis: recently, someone's been spam calling you to the point that you’re fed and pick up the phone, only to be greeted with someone by the name dazai who has been continuously trying to reach his dead friend. the calls however don't end here, rather, your (call) history with dazai starts to extend - slowly but surely forming a bond over time; the phone.

pairing: dazai x reader (gn) |wordcount: 2.5k (this was my personal hell)  | content & warnings: fluff, mentions of odasaku and very very very small mention of chuuya, more than friends less than lovers at the end (can also be interpreted as lovers, but that's just what i had in mind yall), brief mentions of drinking, light angst if you squint, not proofread its 5 am yall…. ; oneshot

a/n: sorry that i havent posted anything in the past few days (eight days to be exact i think..) i hope this will somehow make it up :,)

you can't keep count anymore.

this is the third - no, maybe fourth time today the unknown number has called you. at some point they have to realize that they’ve gotten the wrong number, right? 

it all started about one and a half weeks ago when you changed your phone number and received a new one. ever since that day someone has been continuously trying to call you. unfamiliar digits lit up on your screen as you were out with your friend, you ignored them, after all who were you to accept a call from an unknown number?

but, over the course of the evening the calls didn't stop, eerie and annoying ringtone constantly piercing through your ears until the calls took a halt at midnight. relief washing over you.

to your mishap the calls didn't stop there. sometimes they’d wake you up from a peaceful slumber, groggily pinching and rubbing your eyes before swiping the call away. other times your phone would ring at a work meeting where you had to awkwardly excuse yourself and turn off your phone.

admittedly, you're at fault for not blocking the number. all of your friends suggested that you should, reasoning it with the fact that the caller probably has some dirty schemes and motives and that you should just try and not get in touch with weird people like them. 

which brings you to your current predicament, sitting on the couch with your favorite show playing in the background as you text a friend, until a certain but familiar series of digits show up on your phone screen. do they never know when to stop?

your fingers hover over the decline button and then over to the accept button, debating and contemplating if you should decline the call but you don’t. the pads of your fingers press down on the accept button and you wait. 

you’re greeted with silence, what the hell? your patience runs thin, streaming like arid sand grains through an hourglass until they meet the bottom and gather there together with the others. it's been like thirty seconds into the call now, at this point they should've probably said something, at least a quiet hello. an exasperated sigh leaves your mouth and you begin “seriously? you’ve been calling me for the past week now and suddenly i pick up your calls you don’t say shit?” you complain.

“goodbye odasaku.” a sigh leaves the strangers mouth, a man you notice. “i suppose this is my sign to stop grieving and mourning over you.” his voice slightly quivers and the male chuckles sorrowfully. you can’t distinguish if it’s melancholy or relief that lace the bitter words. 

you’re left with confusion, so many unanswered questions lie at the tip of your tongue but you don’t dare to utter a word. “apologies.” he speaks up once again, this time with a steadier voice. “you’re probably confused, my name is osamu dazai.” he politely introduces himself. even though you’re unable to see him and can’t see him nor his expression, your intuition tells you that he’s slightly grinning, that a ghost of a smile graces his lips, although a rather sad one. 

“this phone number belonged to an old friend of mine.” dazai respires. a shaky “odasaku?” you whisper and let out a breath you yourself didn’t know you held in. “yeah, sakunosuke oda.” he hummed smilingly. “he’s gone.” dead, dazai wants to add but he refrains. 

“his voicemail always played when i dialed his number and called.” he whispered. “it was pleasant to hear his voice, knowing that there are still fragments of odasaku out there. he understood me like no other, i miss him.” dazai meekly confessed in a hushed tone. “but those days are over, i suppose it’s for the better.” the male on the other line sighed.

an umpteen amount of words prickle on your tongue, they itch to be released and said, you wanted to say something - anything. but before you’re able to properly gather your words and form a sentence, dazai cuts you off.

“please excuse my intrusions in the past week. have a good rest.” a shrilling sound echoing through your living room symbolizes the end of the call and you’re left dumbfounded.

-

strident noises awake you from your sleep. you toss and turn in your sheets as you mindlessly try to find your phone, rolling over to lay on your side as you find it and tightly clutching it, gripping your phone as you’re greeted with a bright screen and a row of digits. dazais number, you realize.

no, you didn't save his number nor did you memorize in which order the digits were aligned but his phone number's unfamiliar digits have become quite familiar now. you check the time: 0.52 a.m. what was dazai doing at such time and why was he calling you out of all people? especially after he hung up on you a month ago.

“hello?” you groggily yawn. “ah.” a female voice on the other line yelps, she sounds relieved. “are you odasaku by any chance? could you pick up mr. dazai please?” the woman asks in a demure manner. “what’s the situation?” you rub your eyes, trying to stay awake. “well, mr. dazai is intoxicated - he’s drunk and is currently slumped over the counter.” she whispers into the phone. 

“if that doesn’t bother you of course, i can also call someone else!” she hurriedly says. you're slipping out of your sheets to get out of your bed and move towards your hallway, loosely throwing over a thin jacket and checking its pocket if your car keys are in there. “it’s fine, can you tell me the location?” you tiredly ask. “yes of course. it’s bar lupin.” she replies. you check your phone and step outside your door moving towards your car “got it, i’ll be there in 20 minutes or so.” with that you end the call, get inside your car and put your hands on the steering wheel.

-

carefully you take a step inside the narrow bar, taking off your hood and immediately spotting dazai whose head was currently laying on the surface of the front bar. he was poking at his glass of whiskey, the ball of ice being almost fully melted. “dazai.” you call out. he turns around, hazel eyes meeting yours. 

only then can you admire dazai for the first time. his dark brown is tousled and unkempt but it continues to gleam in the orange light. his arms are wrapped in bandages and there's a long beige, almost khaki, coat draped over his body. you can’t help but think that he’s kind of pretty.

“what are you doing here?” dazai asks in a fatigued tone. you show him your car keys and wag them in the air “here to pick you up.” you reply nonchalantly. “why?” his question is barely above a whisper. 

why are you helping him? he doesn’t understand - he wishes to understand. the first impression you’ve received from dazai was when he was calling you non stop and now your second impression is him slumped over bar lupins front bar. dazai can’t tell if you’re just naive or really trying to be helpful out of politeness or rather out of kindness. 

a certain kindness he’s only ever received from odasaku. helping someone like him out of kindness with no hidden intentions, offering a helping hand, smiling with utmost fondness. 

“as if im leaving a somewhat nice drunkard alone. i’m not inhumane.” even though your answers are full of nonchalance, dazai can make out a certain sincerity that lies in your words. 

his eyes can only follow as you tilt your head towards the door. “let's get you back home.” you gently smile. 

-

dazai wakes up to the sound of  birds chirping and sizzling oil. he’s warm, a soft blanket covering his body only then dazai realizes that this isn’t his bed, that he’s not lying in his futon. he looks around before his gaze lands on the bedside table which had a glass of water atop it, marked with a little sticky note that said “drink this, you’ll feel much better and come find me in the kitchen :)” 

he can’t recall everything that happened yesterday, it all went past him like a blur the only thing he remembered was that you came to pick him up. dazai grabbed the glass and gulped it down in one go, some of its content seeping down his chin and wiping it away with his sleeve before sliding out of the bed with the glass in his hand to return it to you.

finding your kitchen wasn’t hard, it was located right next to the dining room where a variety of dishes were placed on the dining table. dazai enters the kitchen, without you noticing and sees you whisking up two eggs with a pair of chopsticks before speaking up “here.” dazai coughs and places the glass on the counter near the sink to express his gratitude. 

“oh, it’s no problem.” you shoot him a small smile. your hand reaches over to the salt and pepper  to season the eggs with before carefully putting the egg mixture into the hot greased pan. admittedly dazai feels a bit out of place - useless (when was he ever not) so he offers to wash your dishes which you happily agreed to. 

besides the sound of sizzling fat and water running down the faucet, it's quiet in your kitchen. “how’d she know whom to call?”  you’re the first to speak up, eyes still concentrated on frying the eggs as you hum a small melody.

“the bartendress?” dazai asks in response. 

“yeah.” 

“well, odasaku’s number, which is your number now, is one of my emergency contacts, i suppose she just called you first.” dazai shrugs his shoulders, his hands still focused on rubbing away the dirty spots on your plates. 

“i see.” 

“if the old man, my favourite bartender by the way." dazai winks. "if he would’ve been here he would’ve called slug.” dazai lets out a small laugh, probably the most sincere laugh he let out in the past few weeks.

“slug” you ask, soft voice laced with confusion.

“an old friend of mine.” dazai smiles sadly. “odasaku and him are both my emergency contacts.” he chuckles. 

dazai doesn’t talk about the topic much further and neither do you, assuming it’s a sensitive topic for him. “i’m done, how about you?” you look over to dazai who’s currently washing his hands off with lavender soap. “mhm, me too.” he hums in agreement at which you can smile at.

dazais eyes trail after you as you leave the kitchen and move to the dining room, setting down all the plates and pouring two glasses of water. “sit down and eat up.” your eyes sway from his eyes over to the chairs. only then does dazai notice that his beige coat is neatly folded on one of your dining chairs. it makes his heart jump lightly. 

he sits down and takes a sip out of his glass, waiting until you start to eat first before he gets to. he smiles contently as you happily chew on your food. “does it taste good?” he cringes at himself when he realizes just how awkward that question is, he feels like a teenager again that was always wary of what people thought of him. 

“it tastes amazing! wanna try?” you slide the plate over to dazai, offering him to take a piece. “sure.” he agrees before taking a small bite. you weren’t lying when you said that it tasted amazing. “you're right, it tastes so good.” dazai says ecstatically. “told you so! my cooking is not to be underestimated.” you laugh and dazai can’t help but laugh too which makes him cough uncontrollably, putting a hand over his mouth so he doesn’t spit out anything on your table cloth but continuing to laugh.

“oh god dazai, are you okay?” you rush over to his aid and put your hand over his back to slide over it, hoping that it’ll somehow soothe his coughing. dazai manages to muffle out a “i’m fine, really.” between his coughs and laughs which you can only sigh at but can’t help the smile that finds its way onto your face and plasters itself on your lips.

-

calls with dazai have become more frequent now, although he sometimes still remains a mystery to you, it feels like he’s grown quite comfortable around you. 

he told you more about himself (vice versa), talks about his work at the armed detective agency and sends you recipes the both of you could recreate. not only calls with him became more frequent but also visits. 

at least four out of seven times a week dazai rushes to your place after work (you should probably call it your shared home now due to dazai leaving his stuff at your place like scattered objects on the floor).

for example, today: dazai walks into your kitchen like he owns the place. he sets down his belongings onto your couch before stepping towards the kitchen where he already finds you chopping the vegetables for the curry. 

he notices that you’re on the verge of tearing up as you continuously chop the onions into small bits and grabs a tissue before sneaking up behind you and scaring you. “boo.” his mouth forms a little “o” and you slightly jump before setting the knife down and putting your hand over your heart. “you scared me!” you complain even though dazai can see the playful glint in your eyes.

“sorry, sorry.” he laughs before wiping away the small droplets of tears that managed to escape your eyes. 

his calloused hands brush over your soft skin, it’s intimate - romantic even. you softly sigh against the tissue, the object that separates the two of you. the action makes your face lightly heat up and you’re sure that dazai noticed it too from the way he’s smirking. 

“aw, was i able to fluster you?” he coos at you smilingly, which in response you can only huff at, eyeing him with a look that says “you already know the answer.” before turning around to continue where you left off.

in the meantime dazai pulls out another cutting board and starts to chop the carrots. it’s quiet, it’s always quiet when the two of you cook together, but neither you nor dazai mind. the smell of aromatics that nip and continue to linger in the air and the sound of your jazz playlist which sometimes gets outplayed by the sounds of cutting or frying food, are more than enough. it’s just like the first time the two of you shared this space together, a certain nostalgia suddenly washing over him.

“thank you” he whispers, barely loud enough to not get overplayed by the music playing in the background. 

“for what?” you ask, longing for an answer.

for the times you’ve picked me up at bar lupin, for the times you’ve cooked me warm meals, for the times when you took care of me. 

“for everything.”

this is dedicated to my odasaku person @azullumi (don't die pls i need u and ur fics HHDDISISISIS). you've always told me that you liked odasaku a lot and that some day you also want to open up an orphanage which i find really endearing. what i mean by "you're my odasaku person" is not "wow we're literally so odasaku and dazai coded" but no rather it's because you also play such a major role in my life (not just cause of the age gap between oda and dazai and u and me..). you're always there when i need you, you're always there when i needed you and i hope that you'll always be there when i need you. but the same thing goes vice versa; goes for me. azul you're someone whom i've randomly met and if i never made that one comment or sent that one ask or if you never sent that one dm i would've never written this. you're someone who reassures me and soothes my worries with simple words, when i'm feeling down you're the person i turn to because you're the only person who really understands and somehow relates and thus i'm always able to trust and follow your judgement and advice. i never feel judged or belittled by you or treated as someone whose only an immature kid, no you treat me as a normal person, like a friend. which makes me feel seen - acknowledged even. to be loved is to be seen. i could go hours when it comes about talking to you and what impact you have on my life, but i suppose that's for another end note dsjsdsuusus. you're so dear to me. i love you a lot azul <3

© VYNICITY 2024. stealing, copying, translating, reposting my works on other platforms or feeding them to ai is not permitted.

[snailsgoingdowntown]

Help, I Reincarnated as the Female Lead’s Sister-in-Law!

Story Masterlist

Chapter 7

‘Slight’ Yandere! Dion Agriche x Fem! Reader

Arranged marriage AU

Warnings: themes of obsession and maybe possessiveness, implied thought of suicide once (1), toxic relationship/marriage, slight themes of misogynistic society (??? Probably???), implied guilt and regret, ooc Dion. Please tell me if I missed anything.

NSFW warnings: sexual fantasies (Dion: implied unprotected sex, unprotected frottage, oral (fem receiving), clit stimulation, mention of fingering), one (1) dry hump, teasing, mention/implied masturbation, offers of oral (male receiving) and handjob, slightly sexually frustrated Dion (he might die if u don’t kiss him eventually), mention/implications of non-con twice (2) (no he does not non-con you), DUB-CON. Please tell me if I missed anything.

NOTE: I gave the Reader’s brother a name because I dislike writing (family member’s name) unless it’s like the parents. Probably. Also going to tag this as smut just in case.

Main story is slightly different from the drabbles for reasons.

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT CONDONE ANY OF THE HARMFUL AND/OR DANGEROUS/TOXIC ACTIONS AND/OR BEHAVIORS THAT MAY TAKE PLACE IN THIS PIECE OF FICTION. THESE ACTIONS/BEHAVIORS SHOULD NOT BE NORMALIZED AS THEY ARE BOTH EXTREMELY TOXIC AND DANGEROUS.

MINORS/BLANK BLOGS/BLOGS THAT DO NOT INTERACT WITH/REBLOG WITH FANDOM STUFF DNI AND PLEASE DO NOT SPAM LIKE MY POSTS. 

= = =

Something throbs against your bottom.

Breath catching in your throat, your heartbeat speeds up. Your husband doesn’t make any attempt to move, still hovering above you. He’s so close that you could feel his chest against your back with each and every exhale. Despite his… bodily reaction, he doesn’t grind against you. Doesn’t nibble on your ear or slide his hands until they’re groping at your chest, lifting you enough to do so. 

No, he just stays and his breath makes your ear tingle. You need to get out of this.

“H-hey… mind getting off? I need to change…” You wiggle a bit, aiming to escape his one-sided ‘embrace,’ if you could even call it that. Only to immediately stop once he hisses through his teeth, one hand flying to hold your hips still. You cease all actions and breathing becomes difficult. 

All is silent. 

The air becomes heavy and awkward. You dare not move. The risk of rubbing against him is high and you’d rather avoid giving him the wrong idea. Ah, but how should you go about this situation? You can’t exactly move and begging would elicit a less than desirable response from him - he likes seeing you cry, so begging might give him the same thrill. 

Seconds feel like minutes and minutes like hours. Dion doesn’t move against you nor away from you. However, his fingers dig into your hip, and you hold back the whimper from the sharp pain caused by his grasp. You’re stuck and don’t know how to escape. 

…but he is your husband. You don’t want to do that again, to be used as a fleshlight as he enjoys himself while you shake in his arms from the pain. It was humiliating. Awful. 

But your mother would tell you to go along with it. Lant would expect it. Your sister would comfort you, saying that it’s only natural, normal for married couples to engage in sexual intercourse. As for your father… he was always too awkward to discuss the subject. 

Besides, you already told him that you refuse to go through it again. That he could jack off and you would shove his sperm into your cunt so it could reach your fertile womb. 

You also don’t want to give birth to his child. However, you had no say so in that area - a child should be the result of any marriage. You scowl. While things were different in your old, modern world, things were vastly different here. A child was expected, needed in most cases. 

And this was one of them. 

His cock throbs again. 

… you could offer to jerk him off again. Maybe use your mouth if you’re feeling daring, suck on and twirl your tongue around the tip as your hands work the shaft. You’ll even swallow if it means he’ll stay far, far away from your cunt. It doesn’t matter if his cum is bitter and sour. 

When he throbs against you for the third time, you bring up your offer, your voice faltering with each word. When he takes a sharp breath, you know that you signed your death certificate. If accepted, you won’t be able to turn back.   

Wasn’t Dion Agriche supposed to be immune to sexual desires? From what you saw from spoilers, he was dense when it came to romance, so why was he acting this way? …then again, nothing about this was romantic. 

“I don’t need it.” was his response. In spite of that, he doesn’t move, voice husky and dripping with lust. You despise yourself for the shiver running down your body while your ear tingles as his breath hits it. It seems that you’re also weak to physical pleasure regardless of your wariness and fear. 

If only your body was more receptive last night. 

“Then why are you still on me? Holding my hip no less.” If your head wasn’t so fuzzy with sleep, if today had gone in a less confusing direction, would you still act the same? Or would you stay quiet as a mouse, waiting for Dion to take you while your stomach churns and you swallow bile down?

“To stop you from squirming,” he deadpans like his fingers weren’t digging into your poor hip. 

“And your hand around my throat?” 

“To see your reaction.” 

This isn’t going anywhere. You’re just running in circles as the man denies himself and keeps you in purgatory. Can’t somebody knock on the door, forcing him to get up and leave?

You think you should be more scared. You are, but it melts into something worse than annoyance. Why can’t he let you sleep? Leave you alone and pretend you don’t exist. 

“You didn’t tell me why you’re still on top of me,” pointing out as you lift your shoulder the slightest bit, silently telling him to get out of your personal space. After a pause he lets go of your neck, hoisting himself up a bit. It’s not much, but at least he isn’t as close. 

He throbs against you a fourth time. 

Please, please for the love of everything that is holy, let him calm down. No sane man would get horny after saying such awful things. 

You forgot he wasn’t sane. 

“Your reactions are interesting.” 

“... Well, you saw them - that should be enough, no?” You’re debating if you should headbut him. Tomorrow, you’re going to question your own sanity, wondering what gave you the bravery of becoming so bold. Chucking yourself into the nearest river won’t be enough. 

Time stops when your husband’s thumb starts rubbing circles into your hip. It’s gentle but suggestive all the same. No, no, no - you don’t want to fuck him again. You don’t want to bare yourself to him, to allow his fingers to rub at your clit as he thrusts in and out of your most sensitive area. You don’t want him to lick your twitching clit or tug his hair as he eats you out again. 

It was too much, too painful. 

You already told him as such. 

“D-D-Dion.” You hate how your voice shakes, choking on his name. You hate how loud your gulp is. You hate how you’re going to offer your mouth and hands to him again. You hate the fact that you’re going to sit back and act how your mother and sister told you to. 

He hums, hand moving from your hip to your back, tracing your spine again. You fail in holding back the small gasp that slips through. How is it possible for him to get harder just from that!? 

Your toes curl as he gives a small hump, only to harshly stiffen. Did he not mean to do that? 

“A-as long as we don’t… do it, then I’ll be happy to help you.” His hips struggle to stay still at your words, your husband clearly getting excited. He shouldn’t be like this. He should have left you alone and obsess over Roxana. 

But your gut is telling you that you switched places with her. That can’t be true though - he’s just playing with you for now. Raising your hopes up that he’ll be a ‘decent’ husband only to shatter the illusion once he gets tired of you. Honestly, after giving it some thought, you’re not sure which one is worse. 

“You have a lot of trouble with saying the word ‘sex’. It’s cute.” Dion muses, deciding to break his promise of not touching you further by ghosting his lips along the back of your neck, stopping between your shoulder blades. 

“M-mmh… You promised not to touch,” you shakily breath out, ignoring how he called you ‘cute.’ Your toes curl again, chest heaving a bit as you force your breathing to stay steady. Fingers digging into the sheets, your head starts to feel dizzy - he’s being much more intimate, choosing to be teasing and lover-like. 

How long has it been since you tingle down there? You hate it, hate how his touches are starting to set the mood. It’s despicable.

“You also said you didn’t come here for this.” 

“People are allowed to change their minds.” Your husband doesn’t go further than this. You wonder what his expression is. What he’s thinking while scared of the reality of everything. Should you be direct with your refusal? Would he even care? Bother to listen? 

Breathing in, you decide to test your luck. 

“But I haven’t.” Again, he stays practically glued to you. “So, please.” Unable to finish, you only shut your eyes tight, praying to whatever God that would listen. After what seems like hours he completely removes himself from you. Relief fills you as you’re freed, air easier to take in. 

It slightly irks you when he doesn’t apologize. The moment you wake up tomorrow, dawn breaking and memories fresh, you might consider killing yourself. To avoid any possible harsh and inhuman punishment Dion may give you for rejecting him. But tonight, right now as your head is fuzzy and your body falling victim to sleep, you couldn’t care less. 

You’re just happy and grateful he listened. 

Now only your body would do the same. 

“You should change and sleep.” No emotion in his voice. Remorse, guilt, annoyance, hatred - nonexistent. You are a bit worried about it but you can only close your eyes. Thinking is becoming hard.

How can you talk to him so freely? Minutes ago you were scared that the man would rape you. Yet now you’re back to being fine? Madness really is contagious. 

“I don’t think I can… that’s not an invitation.” Making your thoughts and expectations clear, you think you can faintly hear the scolding of your mother. You’ll fret over tonight later.

The world ceases to exist around you, falling into the abyss before you could hear him sigh.  

- - -

He was hoping you would change your mind. The most painful part was over with - as long as he took his time with you, it shouldn’t hurt as much. 

He would have played with your clit until you were whining for his fingers.  To flick the nub back and forth with his tongue until you complain, saying he was being unfair. To rub the tip of his cock against both your entrance and clit until your hips were bucking against him, trying to slip him in. 

But dreams don't always come true. 

Dion accepted as such, realizing that it was far too early to have sex again anytime soon. He could live without it. For a while. Hopefully the same goes for you, otherwise…

Well, his left arm would suffer a lot. 

… this isn’t like him. It’s strange and confuses him. You confuse him. But the questions could be saved for later, when his own eyes aren’t becoming heavy with sleep deprivation, the eye bags getting worse. 

He looks at your sleeping figure, halfway undone dress and corset still on. He considers stripping and changing you into the silk nightgown that he threw onto your back earlier. But seeing how the interaction from earlier went, he decides against it. 

He should call for Hana. 

Scarlet eyes stare hard at you. You look so comfortable, so peaceful - he wants to ruin it. Yet, at the same time, he wants to leave you be, to have a moment of peace in this hell. Your husband settles for the latter. Consideration sometimes overwrites sadistic pleasures. 

… something really is wrong with him. He wasn’t raised with consideration in mind yet here he is. 

Walking to the closet, opening the doors and picking nightclothes at random, Dion wonders how bad you’ll freak out tomorrow. If you’ll cry and beg for forgiveness once you’re able to talk and think. Or if you’ll play pretend and give him a nervous smile once the shock wears off. 

Maybe when he closes his eyes and slips into the dreamworld, he’ll be blessed with a dream of where you’ll accept him as is, faults and all. But as Dion slips his shirt on, he knows it’s next to impossible. 

For tomorrow, when you wake up to his sleeping face, you’ll find an isolated corner to hide in. Tonight will only be looked back on with regret filling your mind. 

That’s how it always starts. 

- - -

“Is it too early to write to sister?” a boyish voice asks. Your father looks up from his paperwork, heavy bags under his eyes. Standing in front of his desk in his office stands your brother - (e/c) eyes filled with impatience and worry. His hands are behind his back, nails digging into skin. 

The twelve-year-old boy has to physically stop himself from grabbing your father by the shoulders and shake him, demanding answers. Out of every man to marry you to, every family to give you to… why did he choose the worst of the worst? 

Weren’t there any better options? 

Your father goes back to his paperwork, pen gliding across the sheets. “It’s not, but be mindful of your words. No need to give your sister more stress. God knows she’s already tipping on the verge of insanity.” 

He doesn’t see the point in lying. Everyone with a brain knows he basically sent you to your early grave - it was only a matter of time until the Agriche family drives you crazy. And that’s putting it lightly. 

His reputation as a man and father has been ruined beyond belief. In spite of that, many still pitied him, rumors going around that he was forced to give you away. Others say that he wanted a bit of the power your new in-laws would lend him after the marriage. However, no-one would dare to ask him directly. 

“... am I supposed to wish her luck on her new happy marriage? Or should I tell her how lucky she is to get sold into such a wealthy and warm family?” 

Slam!

“Zachary (Last name)! Enough. This is a political matter; you won’t understand until you get older.” Your father slammed his palms against the surface of the desk, papers flying and pen dropping to the floor. It rolls under the desk. 

“Understand…? What is there to understand? Anyone with a brain cell knows that she won’t last long. Maybe a month if she’s lucky.” Zachary argues back, stomping towards the desk. A staring contest breaks out between the two males - your father is the first to look away. 

Running a hand through his greying hair, he heavily breathes out. “Everything will… work out.” 

“Work out? What do you mean by that? This isn’t some experiment -” 

“Listen,” your father leaves his position to walk towards your brother, grabbing his shoulders. “Your sister is strong. There is no need to worry.” 

“She’s as strong as a single match.” 

“That’s just rude. But yes, she won’t go crazy… immediately.” 

“You just said she’s tipping on the verge of insanity.” 

“It’s a figure of speech.” 

The argument goes nowhere, both males refusing to back down. Your brother was always hard headed - this wasn’t the first argument that has broken out between father and son, nor will it be the last. However, the context of this one is grave. It involves you. 

“Zac,” your father affectionately refers to him by his nickname, “it’s good that you’re worried about your sister. I’m worried too; but now is not the time to think the worst. Right now, you should offer her support…  cheer her up.” 

What a lousy way of pushing aside the pressing issue. 

Zac doesn’t say anything. In the end, he sighs before nodding his head. “Alright. I understand, father.” 

Your father accepts his answer. “Good. Now, like I said, do be mindful of what you write. Right now is a sensitive time.” 

‘Which means that the Agriche family is going to read through the letter first before giving it to her,’ Zac thinks. Alright, fine. That’s fine. 

Not like he practiced writing sugary words with hidden meanings the moment he heard of your engagement. With a teacher he hates but still followed regardless. The results of his teaching better yield positive results. For everyone’s safety - especially your brother’s. 

“I’ll tell her how you cried for two hours straight.” 

“...Zachary.”