#i’m five foot eight

[bending-sickle]

so many bits of me have been hurting so much today you guys *writhing in worm fashion*

[heavencasteel420]

Steve in the no-UD IU Stonathan AU is metaphorically googling “tiny boyfriend go in mosh pit worried???”

[feelmyskinonyourskin]

Fic idea for anyone who wants it:

Reader has a chronic illness and is sick of doctors writing off her symptoms as anxiety, dehydration, etc.

Friend of reader mentions she started seeing results when her retired linebacker husband came to the appointments because doctors take female patients pain more seriously when big scary men are present.

Reader hires Frank to pretend to be her husband and it works. Hijinks ensue and they fall in love.

I’d write it, but my own chronic illness is making writing not a possibility right now.

[screampied]

oh my godddd I need choso with a breeding kink

choso and his breeding kink ★

warnings. fem! reader, breeding kink, unprotected, p i v, praise, whiny pussydrunk choso, manhandling, mdni.

you let choso shoot into you raw once, just once and he becomes addicted immediately,

it drives him wild, the feeling of goopy amounts of viscous cum pouring into you every few seconds makes his mouth water tremendously with shaky hands glued to your hips, a sweetened mewl slides out of his lips. “ohh, ‘m c-cummin’ again,” and he dryly laughs to hide his whiny moan that were trying to escape from his compressing lips. despite his voice faltering on its own, he couldn’t keep his hands off you. you lay underneath him, an ankle of yours rubbing down his back. you felt his tense muscles and its warmth grazing against your skin. “mhm, ‘s good for me—more please,” he pleads, leaning in to suck against your neck. a few strands of his hair that was naturally down tickles against your cheek. speaking of strands, a few strands stick against his own forehead as he slows his pace. it’s so much dribbling into you before a little trail of his syrupy seed starts to run its way down your left thigh. “i- i’m gonna get you pregnant, baby. i jus’ wanna make a mess out of you. make a mess outta my pretty girl.”

“you love saying that, hm?” you stroke his cheek, panting breaths departing from your lips before you arch forward.

choso was infertile—being a half human half curse, you weren’t sure if he could actually even get you pregnant but he’s always dreamt of the idea. the thought of you walking around with a rounded, swollen tummy has him nearly drooling into your collarbone. baring a fang into the crook of your neck, his sucking intensifies—you’re so full. he only gives you a silent nod, nibbling his teeth into your skin as he’s still got you stuffed full of cock. “how many babies this time?”

“m- maybe um,” he breaks away to stare into your eyes once more.

choso was sweating, a nice glossing sheet of sweat paints against his flushed face before he gulps at your direct eye contact. prying your thighs open just a bit more to stare at the volumes of cum spilling out of your cunt and onto the sheets, he sighs. “wanna give you twins.”

“. . . oh,” you tease, feeling his warm weight press against your entire body. the heat of each body makes his cravings escalate further. he wants you so bad. choso knew you were teasing from your tone alone but still, he furrowed his darkened brows.

as his dick curls into your gummy, gripping walls that forevermore clung onto him tightly, he whines. “oh? oh— what? is that not enough?”

“i was thinking more like . . five, baby,” you whisper against his ear.

whilst you’re still laid flat against your back, feeling his smooth tempo pick up again, a moan almost drags out of your throat. choso always knew how to make you feel good, vice versa. your breaths were so quickened irregular, it’s as if you’d return from a midnight job. with the back of your foot playfully slides down his stiff back muscles, you cup his chin. “maybe six . . or seven, eight . . ”

“s-so basically, you want an entire family,” he whimpers, a mere smile forming onto his lips.

within a few positions, it was safe to say choso was already pussy-drunk. you had him right where you wanted, and once he saw your nod at his question, he only moans into your neck. “okay, i’ll try. gonna try my best for you,” and a flat palm of his circles against your bare stomach. “and this pretty tummy. ‘s gonna be so full when ‘m done.”

choso was a man who never went back on his word.

he says he’s gonna breed you and that’s exactly what he does—

there was simply no sugarcoating it. it’s been about a plethora of positions and as promised, you were filled to the utmost brim with his cum. choso loves more than anything to have you in missionary. he wants to hold your face as he’s fucking his cum back into you.

a pout spreads against his lips as he feels the slippery slope of his own seed pour its way out of your cunt. he wants you to savor it. it drives him mad—with your legs wrapping around his waist, the desire to give you more of him only increases.

“ugh, ‘s good. you’re gonna be so full. take more, pretty please. saved so much for you,” and he’s just babbling.

it’s cute—he’s whimpering sweet nothings against your skin as he’s languidly swinging his hips into your very core. it’s sloppy, yet it feels almost blissful—each time he finishes inside it literally takes his breath away. chills roam all through his spine as he’s dumping such velvety amounts of cum into you. choso bites his lip at the sudden waves of electricity coursing through his veins. he has a bit of a short circuit and it’s cute. with blow irises, he gasps before making a cute attempt to kiss you, but in reality he’s just sucking on your bottom lip. “take it, t- take it, gimme a baby.”

and his words were raspy, yet his tone was whiny. his head’s spinning but he wants more. choso’s so in love, in love with love, in love with you.

“kiss me, ‘cho.” you mewl out breathlessly, moving a few strands out of his face. once he heard you said that, you didn’t have to tell him twice.

a thumb of yours massage against the bridge of his nose, tickling against the scar before you drag him into your lips. choso loudly moans into your mouth as his thrusts become more precise and slow. you glue against him so good that it’s just carnally lustful..

his hips twitch against your own as he’s shoving his own spilling cum right into your cunt. you’re sopping already, a few creamy droplets already start to rundown your thighs as you cling onto him tightly.

“mhm, i love you. i love you s’much, gonna be such a good mommy,” he whines, resuming to babble between kisses.

mwah after mwah . .

with hooded eyes, and a sheepish little grin, he gazes at your after glow. so pretty, saliva cobwebs string out of your mouth as he breaks away only to kiss you again. a hand still rubs against your tummy before it’s his turn to cup your chin. “p- princess,” he breathes in a raspy way. a tongue swipes its way against your bottom lip. his dick was still inside, idle and not moving—yet it’s just plugging feverish excess amounts of cum into you.

“yes baby.” you stare right back into his eyes, a thumb gliding against his flushed cheeks.

“i- i love you,” he whines, his heart melting from the softness of your touch. you bring a hand of his towards your mouth to kiss it. “i love you but- but ‘m not done. need to fill you some more,” and you gasp once he flips you over, making you get on all fours. “i wanna love you more, especially from behind, h-heh.”

[wonderjanga]

Possession

The Gods including Solomon possess Billy whenever they feel like it. They try to not do it that often, but sometimes just can’t help it.

Batman and Question: *talking about an intellectual topic*

Marvel: *possessed by Solomon, somehow seamlessly joins the conversation*

Batman, Question, Marvel: *all yapping*

Question: *pauses and slowly looks over to Marvel* “When did you join this conversation?”

Marvel: “Like a couple minutes ago.”

Question: “Huh.”

Batman: “You normally never add to these conversations.”

Marvel: “That’s because I normally never care for them.” *shrugs* “But this one is actually interesting.” *is about to stroke his beard only to remember Billy’s Marvel form doesn’t have one* “Anyways-” *goes back to yapping about the topic*

Batman and Question: *look at each other before shrugging and also going back to yapping*

or

Marvel: *possessed by Hercules and walking to the lion exhibit in a zoo*

Billy: “HERCULES NO-”

Marvel: *hops on the railing of the exhibit* “It’s no Nemean Lion but it’ll do.”

or

Robin!Damian: *on a couch at the Titan’s Tower, watching TV*

Marvel: *possessed by Atlas who uses Marvel as a way to take a quick nap since he’s literally been holding up the heavens for like a thousand years, does not notice Damian and just lets himself fall on the couch, passing tf out*

Robin!Damian: *feels the weight of an eight foot tall unit of a man on his legs* “WHA-“ *tries to push him off* “YOU IMBECILE! GET OFF!?”

Damian was stuck like that for four hours.

or

Marvel: *possessed by Zeus* “It’s been a while since I’ve let loose! MUAHAHAHA! *spamming throwing lightning at Captain Nazi*

Captain Nazi: *in a crater literally getting his heart restarted and stopped*

Fawcitizens: “😨” *cause Marvel just did an evil laugh*

or

Marvel: *possessed by Achilles, chilling on the ground, making a spear with a branch and a stone he found*

Fawcitizens: *taking tons of pictures because they love their hero*

Marvel: “Alright!” *stands up with his complete spear*

Purse Snatcher: *steals a purse* “You can’t catch me!”

Marvel: *throws the dang spear, misses by a hair, and impales it in a wall so hard, the concrete is cracked* “Huh… I guess I’m rusty. I’ll need to work on my throwing skills.”

Purse Snatcher: *walks over and hands Marvel the purse* “I am extremely sorry for the grievance I have just committed. Please forgive me as I am ready to renter society as a humble human being.” *walks off*

or

Marvel: *possessed by Mercury, grabs a bunch of poker chips he won* “Man, you guys all suck.” *playing poker with mobsters disguised with a fake mustache, sunglasses, a Hawaiian shirt, and some sandals*

Mobster: “Oh that’s it!” *stands up, pulls out a gun and puts it to Marvel’s head*

Marvel: “Whaaaaat? I would never.” *is in fact cheating using magic*

Mobster: “We’ll see about that!” *pulls trigger and bullet just falls flat on the table*

Marvel: “You know, that is so not nice. You don’t shoot a man in the face if you think they’re cheating.” *stands up to make that eight feet and five inches of height apparent to everyone in the room* “You owe me 10 million in emotional reparations.”

He was just joking around. He didn’t actually need nor want 10 mil. Though, they did get 5 mil which was donated to a homeless shelter Billy knew was good.

[cranberrysaucebauce]

I’m immensely attracted to comic Bucky vs mcu bucky because 1) brown eye long hair boy and 2) he’s canonically five foot nine and I just love a little guy I can scoop up like a housecat

[femmeroll]

✦•·················• 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐳 •·················•✦

abby anderson x fem reader | wicked au

wicked has taken over my brain completely this week and i had this idea while watching gelphie edits on tiktok! i might make this a series if it does well 🤍

your arrival to shiz was nothing short of magical. the scenery is something out of a storybook, the buildings resemble the palace from your favorite fairytale.

you step off your boat, kissing your dear parents goodbye and stepping into the quad with as much courage as you could muster. it’s overwhelming, truly, being thrust into a new environment.

the illusive madame morrible takes center stage, introducing herself and welcoming us all.

“welcome, students, to shiz university. your roommate assignments are posted at each corner of the quad.”

you walk over to one of the signs, searching for your name. you hope whoever you’re paired with is nice enough. that’s what you had the most trouble with. you heard stories of girls being stuck with awful roommates at shiz. your finger trails the list until you spot your name.

y/n and abigail anderson

abigail. okay. a new best friend, perhaps? you wonder what she’s like. what’s her major? does she play sports? is she more introverted or extroverted?

the room is on the second floor. you carry your pink bags up the stairs, eyes landing on room 201. opening the door brings a bright smile to your face. it’s gorgeous. the dark wood and floral ceiling details make your heart swell. it’s perfect.

the door clicks, and your eyes widen.

at least five foot ten, skin adorned with the cutest freckles you’ve ever seen. her biceps strain the fabric of her shirt. she has a stoic expression on her face, practically unreadable.

“you must be abigail! i’m y/n, it’s great to meet you” you greet her, glossed lips perking up in a sweet smile.

“uh, yeah. that’s me. just abby” she replies awkwardly. she looks around and sees what you’ve already set up. pink desk, pink vanity, pink bedding and a closet already filled to the brim with frilly pink clothing.

she sighs, opening her bags and getting her side of the room ready in silence. she’s the complete opposite of you. no decorations apart from a framed picture of her and a middle aged man, assuming her father. her clothes are plain, a lot of grays and blacks.

“so…” you start, “what’s your major? i’m in sorcery.”

“same” she replies shortly. you find her disinterest with you a bit strange. she doesn’t even look at you as she speaks, focused completely on unpacking.

“are you taking oz history? i have it at eight tomorrow with dr. dillamond.”

“yeah, same” she says. “i’m a morning person, so i should be fine.”

you smile. even if it’s small, her adding to the conversation is worth something. you hope that she’ll warm up to you eventually. you’ve always been friendly, and maybe some of that will rub off on your new roommate.

the first week of school at shiz is decently successful. you make some friends, meet your professors, and your adjusting just fine without your parents. abby, however, is still an issue. she leaves early for your shared class, seemingly so she doesn’t have to walk with you. she eats in the dinning hall by herself, studies in the library alone, and never talks to you without being prompted. she doesn’t even interact with you in spells and sorcery club.

you’re so frustrated. why doesn’t she like you? is she just bad at making friends? you don’t understand.

on sunday evening, while abby is at the library, you get ready for bed. you slip on a silk, pink nightgown and matching pink slippers. you grab a pen and paper, and begin writing.

dearest mumsie and popsicle,

this week has been good, but my roommate is not fond of me. i’m trying to be friendly, but i thinks it’s safe to say that she detests me. i miss you both dearly, i can’t wait for oz day break!

love,

y/n

the door opens, and abby eyes you up. you look so pure in your little nightgown, holding your pink pen. it makes her skin crawl, her face flush, and her head reel. she has a hard time describing her feelings towards you. but she settles on one word.

loathing.

she loathes the fact that you occupy her thoughts. she loathes the fact that she can smell your sweet perfume in any room you were in before her. she loathes how social you are. she loathes how effortlessly pretty you are. with your stupid makeup and stupid pink dresses that barely reach your mid thigh. she loathes how kind your words are. loathes how every word you say sits in her head for hours. it drives her insane.

“hi, abby. how was your studying?”

“it was fine. i’m no good at history.”

you giggle. god, she loathes that adorable giggle too. “aren’t you from the emerald city? i assume it was shoved down your throat.”

“i guess so,” she sighs. “i kinda tuned it out. it being shoved down my throat had the opposite effect.”

“i could help you, you know. i’m good at history.”

abby huffs. why are you so insistent? she doesn’t need help. from you or for anyone. but when you look up at her with those precious eyes, her mouth opens before her brain even works.

“that’d be great.”

you internally cheer. finally, you’re getting somewhere!

“good! we can go to the library tomorrow.”

that next week, you and abby spend every day in the library. while the conversations are mostly about oz history, you learn a little bit more about abby. you learn that she likes to read old books. she plays desertball in her free time. she takes walks off campus often, with no destination. she just enjoys being outside.

around eight pm on friday night, you and abby are still in the library. it’s empty, besides the two of you and the librarian.

“you’re really improving, abs!” you smile, sneaking in a new nickname. “i think you’ll do great on monday’s quiz.”

there you go with those sweet words. the words that make abby’s stomach twist.

“a bunch of us are going down to the ozdust tonight. do you wanna go?”

“i don’t think so,” abby replies. “not really my scene.”

you pack up and start walking back, a bit disappointed.

“if you won’t come, will you at least help me pick a dress?”

“uh…i guess so.”

back in the dorm, you hold up three dresses. one is pink sequin, one is pink with with lace, and one is white with pink flowers.

“i think i should try them on, so you can see what they really look like.”

abby’s mouth goes dry the second you start taking your uniform off, face to face with your pink lace bra and matching panties.

that’s the final thing abby loathes.

how much you turn her on.

she doesn’t mean to look at you like that, but she just can’t help herself. every time she sees you in your tiny dresses, her eyes linger. when you come back from the communal showers with your pink silk robe, her brain short-circuits at the thought of you being completely nude underneath. it drives her insane.

“abby? what do you think of this dress?”

she snaps out of her thoughts, you’ve already put one of the dresses on. you look gorgeous, the dress highlights all your curves, the lace on the sleeves is absolutely stunning.

“u-um…it looks nice. really nice.”

you giggle. “i guess i’ll go with this one, then.”

abby sits on her bed while you get ready, curling your hair and applying your makeup. she feels sick. you’re so nice, you look so pretty, and now she has the imagine of you in nothing but a bra and panties burned into her brain. and you’re going out in that tight dress and abby feels like her head is gonna explode.

“i’ll be back before midnight. bye abby!”

she waves goodbye and collapses onto her pillow the second you leave.

she tries to calm down. she goes to the gym, she takes a freezing cold shower, she studies for her remedial sorcery class, but no amount of distractions will get rid of the picture of you in her head. she loathes this feeling. maybe she loathes how you make her feel, not you yourself.

she’s trying to sleep, but every time she closes her eyes she sees you. and then her imagination starts to go against her will.

“abby, will you take my dress off?”

“abby, you’re so muscular and strong.”

“abby, please kiss me.”

“abby, you make me feel so good-”

her thoughts are interrupted by the door swinging open. there you are, hair slightly frizzy but still as perfect as ever.

“hey abs? why are you still up?”

“couldn’t sleep. did you…have fun?” she asks

you pout. “not really. my friends left me to go hang out with a group of boys.”

“why didn’t you go with them?”

“they were all paired off. plus, i’m not really interested in flirting with boys.”

abby’s eyes widen.

“will you unzip my dress for me? i’m so sleepy.”

oh, this is horrible. abby feels like she’s gonna faint as she unzips your dress. this is exactly how her stupid fantasy started. the stupid fantasy where she gets to taste every inch of your sweet body.

“thanks, abs. you’re so sweet” you say. you change into your nightgown and turn back to face abby.

“i hope you’ll come out with me next time. it’d be much more fun with you.”

“yeah…maybe.”

you stand on your tiptoes to kiss her cheek, getting a pink, shiny mark on her face. “goodnight, abs.”

you crawl into bed, falling asleep immediately. abby is stilling standing there, jaw dropped.

she didn’t loathe that. not one bit.

i hope yall enjoyed! this is my first actual long fic. let me know if you want a part two 🤍🤍🤍

[pochaccoups]

cw — sfw, fluff, mingi is sick and sulky, reader is smaller than mingi

It’s not entirely weird for Mingi to be waking up at 11:27 a.m. Sure, he’ll get up at seven or eight on a day full of schedules, but there’s also days where he sleeps until two, three, four p.m whether it’s from jet lag or after staying up late writing. What is weird is the fact that he’s been asleep since eight p.m. yesterday.

A text from your boyfriend is what lets you know he’s finally awake, and you’re up from the sitting room couch in an instant, darting to your shared bedroom.

He’s got the covers pulled halfway up his face with just his eyes poking out to stare at his phone screen and you wonder how a six-foot-something man can look so small.

“Morning, baby,” you say, slinking over to his side of the bed so you can sit on the edge next to him.

“Morning,” he replies, and if it weren’t for the fact that he was quite literally in front of you, you’d be convinced that someone had kidnapped your boyfriend and replaced him with a complete stranger—one with a voice so deep that it rumbles when he speaks.

Your eyes widen and you giggle, but you can’t say you’re surprised at how he sounds. His voice is notorious for dropping several octaves in the morning. Usually it’s sexy, but given that he’d spent the entire day before complaining about a sore throat, you can’t find it in you to feel anything but pity for the poor boy.

“So, I called your doctor and he said you need to stay home for the next four to five days at the least,” you tell him, reaching for his muss of silver hair to tangle your fingers through it softly.

“What-no, I’m really fine!” he whines, pushing himself up to sit against the headboard. “I have to practice for the comeback, I can’t take a break right now.”

“You’re not taking a break, Gi, you’re going on sick leave. You kept me up all night with your sneezing and coughing,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest, only to melt as soon as he gives you his big, round, puppy eyes.

“But it’s just a cold…”

“Well, the doctor ordered it. Besides, I’ve already called Hongjoong and your managers. And I took work off today and tomorrow so I can stay home with you.”

For a split second you swear his eyes well up with tears. “You did?”

“Of course,” you tell him. When Mingi is sick, he turns into a four week old puppy because he can’t be left alone, or a newborn baby who needs a pair of eyes on him at all times so that he doesn’t suffocate to death. So when you tell him you’ll go make him some food and tea, he wraps his excessively giant hands around your body and clings to you, like letting go of you would mean he’ll succumb to his illness.

“Gi, you need fluids. Please let me go,” you remind him, but he only holds you tighter and you know it’s partly out of spite and partly because he’s just like this—a velcro boyfriend.

“Mingi, I’ll be two minutes, then I’ll come right back, okay?” you tell him.

“No, you won’t, I know you,” he says, and you don’t have to look at him to know he’s pouting. It’s a permanent feature of his face by now.

“I will! Why else do you think I took work off, huh?”

He’s silent then, and a moment later his arms fall loose, and he lets you go, but you leave a kiss on his forehead as an act of promise to him and shuffle back out to your kitchen.

Spurred by your boyfriend’s neediness, you gather leftover rice from the fridge, chicken broth, and a handful of vegetables with haste and start to boil the concoction that your mother taught you how to make, the one that got you through not just fevers but through heartbreaks, losses, and cold winters.

“The most important ingredient,” she would say, “is a sprinkle of your heart”—though Mingi deserved more than just a sprinkle.

The kettle boils away and your stew bubbles with life in no time. It’s also no time before a giant, warm, sniffling body plasters itself to your back and buries his face into your neck, practically bending in half to do so.

You can’t say you don’t see it coming. Still, the spirit of your mother possesses you when you drag out his name to scold him.

“Why aren’t you in bed, dummy?” you question, though you’re careful not to have any real aggravation in your voice toward him. Admittedly, you adore the way his body heat wraps around you like a blanket, although you’re sure that’s just his fever.

“Missed you too much,” he mumbles, nuzzling his nose and lips against your shoulder.

“I told you I’d be two minutes,” you sigh.

“It’s been more than that already. You lied. I knew you’d lie.”

“It was hyperbole for ‘I’ll be super quick’.”

“Then you should have said that.”

You place your wooden spoon down on the counter, turning to face your boyfriend with a fond smile on your face.

He looks adorable. Unbelievably so. Mussed up white hair, a dusting of pink on the apples of his cheeks and the pointy tip of his nose, puffy eyes that still sparkle at the sight of you. You might be the luckiest human on the planet.

You bring your hands up to his face, grabbing at each of his cheeks and squishing them gently between your fingers.

“My poor, sick princess,” you coo, watching his dimples make an appearance when he gives you a goofy, content smile. “Do you wanna watch a movie? Or a show maybe?”

He nods his head, still smiling so sweetly.

“Go pick something and I’ll finish up your soup,” you offer.

“Can I have a kiss first?”

You stare at him, unamused, though you know this very well—Song Mingi cannot live without your kisses. It’s why he was crafted with the softest, prettiest, heart-shaped lips, so that you could kiss them over and over and over again until the end of time. There are exceptions, however.

“I’m not catching your virus! Is that what you want?”

“No, no, on my forehead again!” he clarifies, his features suddenly muddled with worry because he would suffer from this cold for the rest of his life if it meant you would be healthy for the rest of yours. You wonder, though, if he knows how badly you wish you could take his cold and suffer it for him.

“Oh, well then yeah, duh,” you say, standing on your tip toes and gently pulling Mingi’s face towards you so that you can plant an overly long kiss on his burning forehead and pull away with a “mwah!” that leaves him utterly beaming.

Finally satisfied, he shuffles off back to the room, leaving you to brew his tea and serve up the stew into two bowls.

You grab flu tablets from the medicine cabinet, noting that they’re almost all gone and you’ll need to go to the pharmacy to get more. For today you have enough, so you place them on the tray along with the stews and tea and make your way back to your bedroom.

Mingi is curled up under the covers again and it’s so cute that you hate to disturb him, but he unfurls himself and sits up as soon as he sees you with a tray in hand.

“What are we watching?” you ask, slowly settling on the bed next to him and laying the tray down on the mattress.

“I think Attack on Titan, if you want to,” he says, full of fondness as you hand him two tablets to take.

“Oh, right, you’ve been wanting to watch that! Of course I want to,” you tell him, because you could never pass up the opportunity to see Jean Kirschtein in action again. You’ve missed him dearly since the show ended, though you have no doubt of the sulking and pouting you’ll get from Mingi when he comes onscreen.

Your boyfriend’s eyes go comically wide when he tries your soup and you laugh because he almost chokes on it.

“Is it that good?” you chuckle.

“It’s really good,” he responds.

“Good, because I put all my love into it.”

He hums, his face glowing pink as he eats another spoonful. “I can tell. Thank you for making this. And thank you for taking care of me. And for putting up with me.”

“Anything for my princess,” you giggle. “But I’m not ‘putting up with you’, idiot. Is it hard to comprehend that someone cares about you, Mingi?”

He stares up at you with his shiny eyes as though you hand-crafted the very sun, moon, and stars and placed them in the sky yourself.

“I love you,” he says, a mere whisper. It’s three words he’s said to you a million times, but right now, with his walls down and him vulnerable, it’s worth a million times more.

“I love you too,” you reply, leaning over to smack your lips against his temple. “Now watch the show!”

And he tries, he really does—but your little hospital patient is fast asleep by the third episode.

[stclaretarot]

PAC ⭒ YOUR NEXT MAJOR BLESSING

reminder that this is a general reading and messages found here may not apply to everyone. take what resonates, leave what doesn't, and don't force anything if it does not fit.

BOOK A READING WITH ME · LINKTREE · 18+ PATREON · TIPS ♡ tips, bookings, and feedback are highly appreciated!

GROUP ONE

cards pulled · page of swords (reversed), five of wands, king of pentacles (reversed), ace of swords, eight of wands (reversed), temperance. 

channelled songs · dream merchant by the new birth. new axis by nct u. worth my while by manny norté. 

my dear group one ♡ what’s coming up may not feel like much of a blessing as, truth be told, it is a blessing of tough times and times of challenge. 

as this unfolds in your life, remember this one truth: “no rain, no sunshine.”

without difficulties and challenges, will we ever truly appreciate when things are easy? when things are going well? when things are falling into place? 

without these difficulties and challenges, will we even know what it’s like to be happy and at peace and content? whose to say, but i say no. i say we need the darkness and the misery and the pain to truly know light and happiness. to truly marvel in the blessings being showered upon us. 

so, as you go through this, dear, remember that this, too, is a blessing. that you are being blessed with hard times as much as you will be blessed with good ones. that you are being blessed with patience, and perseverance and an inner-strength. 

remember, too, that “blessings” are a manmade ideal. god bestows, and humans decide if this is a blessing or a curse. it is all about perspective. 

GROUP TWO

cards pulled · queen of wands (reversed), three of pentacles (reversed), eight of swords, six of cups, eight of cups, death (reversed). 

channelled songs · get out by pinkfantasy. wake me up before you go-go by wham! i’m every woman by whitney houston. 

my dear group two ♡ your next major blessing sees you settling into yourself -- likely out of no other option but to settle into yourself. out of no other option but to become comfortable with yourself, in your entirety. 

you are being forced into this role of the “outside” -- in your community, school, or workplace. you are different from those around you. your views are different from those around you. and that is your strength. that is your blessing. 

you are not meant to be the same as everybody else. to share everybody else’s perspectives. to live everybody’s life. and sometimes we have to truly become isolated and feel not just alone but lonely in order to embrace who we truly are. 

are that is what this is doing, how this is blessing you. you are going to blessed with this experience that pushes you to be completely unique and original. to honour your uniqueness and original ways of thinking. to forge your own path and create a life for yourself that is truly your own. 

GROUP THREE

cards pulled · eight of swords, page of swords, knight of pentacles, seven of pentacles, knight of cups, three of pentacles. 

channelled songs · i am the best by 2ne1. middle of the night by monsta x. infinity by superm. 

my dear group three ♡ your next major blessing is a blessing of clarity. clarity of the mind. 

the fog is being lifted from in front of your eyes and any confusion you may have felt (or held in your mind) is now gone for good and for the better!

up until now, you have been wandering aimlessly. putting one foot in front of the other because while you do not know where you are going, you know that you cannot afford to stay in one place for too long and rot. rot. rot away. 

but no more! you are going to receive this blessing of knowing exactly what you want to do, exactly what you want to out of life, and exactly who you want to be. 

honestly, dear, this is such a major blessing, because after so long of trying and trying and trying, things are finally coming together in your life. 

GROUP FOUR

cards pulled · two of swords, judgement, nine of wands (reversed), seven of swords, the world (reversed), the star. 

channelled songs · run this town by jay-z & rihanna. stop by lous and the yakuza. put my hands on you by dean & anderson. paak. 

my dear group four ♡ this major blessing is another one of those “blessings in disguise.” though, to be fair, aren’t most blessings? 

but, now, for you, this is a blessing of fake friends and fake supporters being revealed and promptly removed from your life. all these snakes in the grass, lurking, spying on you and waiting for the vital moment to strike and hurt you. these people who are faking friendliness to your face, but are waiting to stab you in the back. these people will be made known to you soon. in a drastic way. 

what you do with this is up to you, however. will you take this blessing for what it is and cut them out, thus making space for true friends and supporters? for people who actually do have your best interest at heart? or will you forgive and forget, allowing naivety to take the reins? which, may be hard as these may be friends you’ve known for a long time. or a family member. or a lover. 

a blessing is a blessing is a blessing, but what’s most important is what we do when we are presented with one. what are you going to do? 

[maxsimagination]

𝙘𝙤𝙖𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙨' 𝙙𝙖𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙚𝙧 - 𝙥.𝙗𝙪𝙚𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙧𝙨

summary: paige meets yn for the first time, but has no idea that she’s her coaches daughter

-> r is geno’s daughter, i know he’s like 70 but for the sake of the story let’s pretend that he has a younger daughter (26)

• part 1 • part 2 •

𖦹 masterlist

𝗖𝗢𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗛𝗢𝗠𝗘 𝗛𝗔𝗗 never felt better.

after two years studying abroad in spain, i was finally back home. i could see my family again, my dad again. he had no clue i was coming back now, he thought i was still overseas and he wouldn’t see me for another month.

i knew he was at uconn, i was studying my degree there and he was the women’s basketball coach. so i thought the best way to surprise him would be to show up at one of his practices. mom had given me the times of his practices, with the promise of making someone record his reaction to seeing me back for the first time.

i walk down to the gymnasium, hearing the light sounds of shoes squeaking from running on the court.

the doors to the arena are open, i walk in and the first thing i spot is my dad, his back to me and yelling instructions to a team of really tall girls.

the second thing i see is a six foot, hot, blonde woman. i knew who she was, paige bueckers is unmissable. and she was staring directly at me.

instead of approaching either of the two, i decide to sit on the bleachers for a bit and observe the practice. since i was in the states for my last year of studies, i might have to start coming to more of dad’s practices.

to spend time with him of course, and definitely not to see paige.

geno shouts at the players to take a water break and next thing i know, paige is walking straight at me.

“hey.”

“hi.”

i don’t know what else to say, it’s the paige bueckers talking to me.

“i haven’t seen you around here before, what’s your name?”

“i’m yn.”

“nice to meet you, i’m paige.”

“you looked good out there, paige”

the taller girl grinned down at me, and we got to taking for a bit. that was before geno called them all back from their break. paige left me with a wink and a promise to come speak again after practice. i held her to that and waited until they were finished before standing up.

my dad was yet to realise that i’d been here the whole time, and i was waiting for the right time.

when he told all the girls he’d see them tomorrow for practice again, i started walking towards him.

“hey dad.”

he whipped around at my voice and his eyes landed on me. i stood there grinning, waiting for him to say something. there were multiple players watching on, including paige, who didn’t know that i was their coaches’ daughter.

“yn, you’re back?”

“i’m back, dad.”

he didn’t say anything back, just swept me up in a giant hug.

i hugged him back as much as i could, even though he was taller than me by quite a bit. you’d think that being the daughter of tall parents would mean passing down the tall genes, but apparently my siblings took them all. so i was left to stand at only five-foot-eight.

that meant that almost the entire women’s basketball team towered over me. speaking of, when geno finally put me down, the first person i turned to was paige who stood directly behind me the whole time.

“surprise.”

i grinned up at her, and tried to hold back my laughter at her shocked expression.

“damn, coaches’ daughter? i guess i can’t take you out on a date now.”

she feigns sadness and i laugh out loud.

“what can i say, rules are meant to be broken.”

her faux sadness turned into a wolfish grin.

“i always was more of a rule breaker.”

i grabbed my phone out of my pocket then, pulling up a fresh contact.

“put your number in. i’ll text you.”

paige didn’t hesitate to type in her contact, handing my phone back to me in record time.

“i’ll look forward to it, pretty girl.”

i could feel my cheeks blush at the pet name, before i gave a small wave and followed my dad over to where he was just finishing gathering his things and leaving.

it was later that afternoon when i decided to bite the bullet and send paige a message.

to: paige

hey it’s yn, i’m free this friday if you are?

i didn’t expect a reply back so quickly but within the minute, my phone had vibrated multiple times.

from: paige

hey pretty girl

i’ve got practice @ 10, but we could go for a late lunch if that’s okay with you?

to: paige

sounds good, i’ll see you then ;)

never in my life did i think i’d be going on a date with the paige bueckers.

[aheathen-conceivably]

The tip of Violette’s foot was perfectly upturned as she hopped into the first square of the crudely drawn hopscotch board. And five, six, seven, eight… Her other foot reached the final square, pirouetting exactly in the center before she spun back toward the start and hopped lightly onto her other foot. Nine, eight, seven, six… She reached the middle of the board easily, her balance never faltering even as she bent down to pick up the stone in the fifth square.

She held it up triumphantly, jumping out of the final square with a bit too much flair for someone who already knew they had won. The girl keeping score across the way called out loudly. “Violette wins again!”

Violette set the stone back on the ground, mindful of the boys at the end of the yard who had been cheering her on. She gave them a small bow, watching Will’s cheeks grow pink like he was embarrassed she was drawing so much attention to herself. When she turned she saw her friend Daisy, arms crossed and eyes to the ground. Violette didn’t need anyone to keep track of the score. She never lost track of the count, or at least she very rarely did. She had picked up the stone from each square without losing her balance once. A perfect ten out of ten. Daisy, who came in second almost every time, still only had five out of ten. 

Sometimes Violette considered letting herself fall, just so that she wouldn’t look so defeated. But then, in the moment, with everyone’s eyes on her, her arms soared higher and her posture even straighter, so that she leapt off the final square forgetting she had ever felt bad at all. But now, seeing her again, a small pit of guilt rose in her stomach. She walked toward her, gesturing to the monkey bars, “Want to race across? See who can make it to the top?”

Daisy readily shook her head, glancing over to the table where the boys were seated before she ran to the monkey bars. Violette stood still for a moment, counting in her mind before she ran off to join her. Five, six, seven, eight….

By the time Zelda walked up to the schoolyard a choir of girlish giggles was raining down from the monkey bars. She stood unnoticed near the fence, watching the childish energy surge through the schoolyard like hummingbirds in Spring. It was heartening to see her daughter this way, so lively and comfortable amongst her peers when she herself had been so withdrawn as a child. It made her feel as though there was so much excitement ahead of her in life, and the path would present itself at her feet through her sheer will and magnetism.

But here, she was simply reminded of how much promise lay ahead for all of them, a new generation enjoying what was left of their childhoods - still yet to see what the world would hold for them or how the years would go by. It was so hopeful that it brought tears to her eyes.

“Mrs. Duplanchier!” The words had come from the schoolhouse porch, and Zelda had been so lost in her own thoughts that it took her a moment to realize they had been spoken by Violette’s teacher Mrs. Sullivan. “I’m glad to have caught you. Do you have a moment to speak before the bell rings?” 

Zelda fiddled her hands, nodding her head in nervous agreement. It took only a few seconds for the woman to walk down from the porch, but it was long enough to convince Zelda that her daughter was in trouble. She would have to reprimand her at least, or more likely, punish her. She began to panic, but before the fear could take hold Mrs. Sullivan stopped on the other side of the fence.

“I thought it might be beneficial for the children to try and get some sort of after school activity going. I know a number of the their fathers are either away on the road or out in California, as Violette’s is, and mother’s like yourself are overwhelmed in their absence. I was hoping an additional class may help ease the burden. A dance class, in particular, for the girls only, of course.”

Excited butterflies rose in Zelda's stomach, joining the chorus of hummingbirds in the schoolyard. “Dance? Do you - do you mean like ballet?”

The woman laughed quietly “One could call it that. Mostly ballet, mixed with what I’ve picked up from here and there over the years. I danced a bit before coming to teach here. Nothing professional by any stretch, but it will be nice to have reason to do it again.”

“Of course! She - she would be delighted. As would I.”

A bell sounded from above, prompting a dozen playing children to scurry from their posts to the ground below. The woman in front of her looked over her shoulder and smiled. "My apologies, Mrs. Duplanchier. I should help the children gather their belongings. And please, feel free to tell Violette. You were the last mother I needed to speak with so if she’s interested we can meet thrice a week starting next Monday.”

The bell overhead continued to ring, sounding in time to her heels as they walked away. Zelda watched her go, her own question gnawing at her mind as she bit her nails.

She gazed over her shoulder, looking at the courthouse reflecting the late afternoon sun. She tried to walk by it most days, admiring its stately columns and remembering the welcome it had given them when they arrived. It never seemed to change, despite all that had come and gone since then.

"Mrs. - Mrs. Sullivan?" The woman turned quickly, slowing her footsteps just long enough to allow Zelda to speak. "Has the book truck been by yet?"

"Why, yes. Did Violette mention it?"

Zelda kept her hands behind her back, hoping the other woman couldn't sense her nerves. "She did. But I - I was wondering if you had a chance to speak to the man who drives the truck? Goes by Mr. Barnes, I believe."

Mrs. Sullivan slowed to a stop and raised a curious eyebrow. "We didn't have much time to speak, what with the children's questions and excitement, but he mentioned that he was working out of the courthouse. Something about a government contract? But I couldn't tell you much more, my apologies."

As the sound of running children disappeared inside the schoolhouse, Zelda turned where she stood, taking a few timid steps across the sidewalk as she looked at the courthouse. Alexander Barnes, Librarian. Surely it wouldn’t be any harm for her to speak with him, just to see what this contract was or to understand more about the truck itself. Why was she putting so much hope onto this? Turning it into something it probably wouldn’t never be. It was foolish. Like any other daydream.

"Momma?" Zelda spun around, dropping down to Violette's level as soon as she realized she had been lost in her own thoughts again. "Hello, little flower. How was school?"

Violette rolled back and forth on the balls of her feet, like she was impatient to ask what was really on her mind. "It was fine. I won at hopscotch again."

"Did you! Well that's very - "

"It was." Her response was short, sending cold, quiet daggers into Zelda's heart. "It's - it's two weeks until Poppa comes home, right?"

"Oh, my love. Not quite." Violette looked down as her mother spoke, frustration and disappointment darkening her young face; because almost without realizing, she had lost the count. "I told you not to count the days. It only makes them go by slower. Trust me, okay? Besides, I think I have something that may help..."

Zelda rose to her feet, putting her arm around her daughter's shoulder and turning her full attention away from the courthouse just across the street. As they made their way home Zelda explained what Mrs. Sullivan had proposed, Violette’s face brightening every step of the way.

Previous / Next

[i-am-hungry-24-7]

[We went on shopping (it didn’t go well)] - TF141*F!Reader

not a chapter actually just a rambling, it's kinda messy and not my style imo, pls feel free to skip this etc. might rewrite this shit when I have time since I’m busy with my job these days and I just accidentally sliced my thumb open making it difficult to type, hence not much to provide sorry :( and the weird stranger incident in the latter part did happen irl damn it’s creepy af, but I was the one telling them to fuck off tho (they harassing my cute friend RAGE)

Summary: You sigh when it's the fifth time someone fights in your poor tea shop this month. You just open it two months ago, in an area ruled by mafia called '141'. Maybe you should find their boss and give them money or what to stop the bullshit keeps happening in your shop. (well, here they come)

Mafia!TF141*F!Reader

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

After your car graduates from its car life in about a week, congratulations, the poor shelf accompanies you since your college life is finally undone, fragments spreading across the floor making you shout Mama and mourn for its graduation.

You don’t have a car right now, so when Gaz offers to drive you to buy a new shelf, you agree to his suggestion without a second thought. Yet when the day comes and you open the car door, only to be greeted by the wide smile of Soap and Gaz, you almost slam the door close in reflex.

“Okay, but why do all of you come together? this isn’t an elementary school field trip!” You gawk at them when you squeeze in the car.

“Sounds fun, how can ye not tell us?” 

“Gaz I thought you could seal your lips!”

“Sorry love, Ghost exchanged it with some goodies.”

Oh yeah, Ghost is sitting in the driver’s seat.

Wait, he’s sitting in the driver's seat?

“Goddamnit—“ Your scream dies out on your tongue when said man puts his foot down. 

Ghost does a good job at providing you the same experience as riding a rollercoaster, glad that you didn’t throw up in the car and arrived at the warehouse without dying. If he's your Uber driver, you will give him five stars and block the hell out of him. 

You hop out of the car and walk to the door. As the automatic door parts after sensing your presence, you feel much better when the cold air of the store. Nice a.c. is one of the important features of a nice store, and you already built a fondness for the warehouse with how refreshing the chilly air is inside.

The first area welcoming you is food. Not bad, 6 out of 10 if it needs to be precise. Gaz pushes the cart and follows you as you saunter to the aisle with cereals.

“Oh, they have my favorite brand.” You murmur to him as your eyes travel across the price tag.

Wait, you must still be dizzy because no way it’s 30% cheaper than the same one you just bought from the supermarket.

“Kyle, it says it’s 3 pounds, right?!” pointing at the tag, your voice raises a whole eight-tone with excitement.

“Yes?”

“Good.”

5 boxes of cereal are added to the cart. 

Actually, 9.9 out of 10 for this place, you fix the evaluation as you watch Gaz putting some of those ten bags of chocolate Ghost and Soap dump into the cart back on the shelf, and as a little revenge to Gaz for letting the other two men join the trip without you knowing, you choose to turn a blind eye when you spot Ghost sneaking all of them back in the cart.

Not forgetting the primary goal for today, you go straight to the furniture area after letting Soap throw five packs of gummy bears in the cart and convincing Ghost not to get a cup of tea from the random tea shop. You’ll make a much better one for him when you get home — you coo when he stares at you with unhappy eyes not covered by the mask, glad that he seems to accept the idea, so he huffs and lets you drag him and Soap out of the food area.

“You should buy this.” 

“Ghost I don’t need a green shelf in my shop thank you.”

“Then ye should buy this bonnie!”

“That’s not even a goddamn shelf, Soap.”

“How about this?” 

Your eyes brighten up when Gaz shows you a wooden shelf, it’s stripped-back, with not many decorations, but it surely will fit wonderfully into your store with its aesthetic vibes and high functionality, thus you pick up your phone to type down the product number immediately.

“Oh my, Kyle, you’re the best.”

and you’re too busy typing the numbers down that you don’t notice him shooting the others a taunt of victory.

The last area before the cashier’s counter sets a bookshop. You don’t plan on buying books, but you indeed need to go to the bathroom, so you dismiss yourself and tell them to look around before you’re done.

Why are the bathrooms always hidden in a bloody long hallway? What if someone can’t hold back during their way? Your footsteps echo through the corridor as your mind starts hitting you with a fresh and unnecessary question, glad that you aren’t that urgent though, so you’re able to get to the destination without wetting your pants.

Washing your hands, you step back to the hallway again, but you yelp in surprise when you bump into someone.

“Sorry!” You nod at the man and start heading back to the bookstore.

but it’s weird, the man you just bump into walks so close to you, that you suddenly realize he’s just a step behind you.

Hey, don’t panic, might just coincidence, you try to tell yourself as you make another step.

“Hey, lovely.” Okay, it’s not a coincidence, fucking hell. You curse when his hand touches your shoulder and stops you.

“Sorry for bumping into you, Sir. Anything that I can help?”

“No, I’m waiting for you to separate from the blokes for a while can’t ask for your phone number when they surround you like dogs.”

“I don’t give strangers my number, sorry.” You try to leave, but the man’s hand grabs your shoulder forcefully preventing you from moving.

“Hey, give us a chance yeah? I’m sure we will have some nice time together.”

“I don’t fucking know you!”

Prying off his hand, you turn and start walking fast, almost running when you hear the stranger’s footsteps coming towards you.

Fuck fuck fuck, you haven’t run with such desperation in years, last time must be high school.

“Who the fok are ye arsehole?”

The tears prickling in your eyes when you hear Soap’s voice ringing in your ears before you feel a pair of warm hands drag you behind him.

“Ghost and Soap will deal with him, let’s go.”

Adrenaline pumping through your body finally subsides when Soap and Ghost reappear from the hallway, you don’t want to know what happened to the stranger, maybe hope they’re still alive and in one piece so you won’t involve yourself in another chaos, 

“I think it’s time to go home, Kyle. Is it okay?”

“Of course, wanna grab some food before we leave?”

“I guess Ghost already bought sufficient chocolate for us.”

A burst of laughter catches your attention whilst Gaz looking at the cart with bags of chocolate stuffing under your cereals with disbelief, and a smile crawls back to your lips as you look at Ghost slamming his forehead against a lower door frame and Soap laughing over him.

They aren’t that bad, maybe, or they reserve the remnants of tenderness for you, you’re not sure whether is correct, but at least they have your back when you need them, and that’s enough for you to stop exploring the answer for now.

“Oh.” A book gets knocked off when you shift to stand up. Turning around to pick it up, you have a good look at the shelf behind your seat.

Your eyes dart from ‘Today’s recommendation’ to the book within your grasp.

‘Surrounded by idiots — by Thomas.’

You will rate this recommendation 10 out of 10 for sure.

After insisting on paying yourself and shooing the men off, you take out your card and place it on the scanner.

‘Insufficient balance :( please try again’

You frown when the machine shoves you a nuh-uh, and you open the bank app to check your balance.

So you overspent 10 pounds huh? What a shame to your title for being a successfully financially broken adult. Which link loses and makes you make a wrong shopping decision? 

you scan the list of items with sharp vision until you land your eyes on a product.

Surrounded by idiots - £ 10.61

Ah.

a/n: thx for reading :D sorry it's messy and unlike my previous writings :( hope I can have time to write again btw Price went on business trip so he's missing everything

tag list :D - @blackhawkfanatic @nexthyperfix @danielle143 @goodbyegh0st @reaperxxxxzz @kaoyamamegami @imyprice @cod-z @poppingaround @live-for-fluff @masterstr0ke @mall0ww @ghostysloot @hxnneydew @cutiecusp @beigechristmastree @rejectedbytheempty @lupikekee @hotvinimon @whitetiger846

[stayinlimbo]

Unsaid (Not Unwritten)

pairing: lee minho x gn!reader genre/warnings: established relationship, hurt/comfort, previous communication issues being resolved, mentions of not feeling loved, forgiveness because they do actually love each other, like one swear word lmao, self-indulgent af because i have free will word count: 0.6k note:  is this based off a true story? yes. what's the moral? communication requires effort but is so worth it. i feel like i couldn't portray this fic in the way i wanted to but i tried my best ♡

Minho’s front door is chipping. That’s to be expected, considering the apartment complex is ancient, and his landlord is unwilling to give the place a much-needed paint job. You’ve never really taken the time to inspect the old wood or notice the small patches of discoloration, revealing the original color scattered along its expanse. You’ve never hesitated to knock on his door, either.

Stalling the inevitable is pointless; you know that. However, it doesn’t stop you from hesitating, hovering a fist inches away from the very door you’ve stood in front of for the past five minutes. The carefully folded piece of paper crinkles in your other hand, tightly gripped by your side as you take a steadying breath to calm your thumping heart.  

Eight rhythmic knocks echo against the wood. There’s no going back; he’s sure to know it’s you now.

Ten seconds, twenty seconds, thirty seconds. The wait has never been so daunting. There’s no one else in the hallway to see you rocking back and forth on your heels—no one to see your cautiously optimistic gaze glued to his door.

Forty seconds. Maybe he needs to prepare himself before he sees you. Fifty seconds. Or maybe this was a bad idea. You can feel yourself physically deflating. Maybe he doesn’t want to see you yet. One minute. But what if he didn’t hear you? Should you knock again? There’s no harm in trying.

You raise your fist again, and the door creaks open. 

You quickly shuffle backward a couple of steps in surprise, retracting your hand back down to your side. Minho peeks his head out of the door, his downcast eyes slightly widening and then squinting when they meet yours.  

Minho opens the door further, shuffling around the entryway to face you directly. He scans over your disheveled figure, a small consequence of rushing over to his place and taking the stairs instead of the elevator, with a pensive look. “What—“

“I’m sorry,” you say, cutting him off and watching his lips part in surprise. “I’m sorry I haven’t been making you feel as loved as you deserve.”

Minho slowly nods, his gaze softening and brows quirking up in a way you know it’s okay to continue. You give him a small smile, closing the distance between you until you’re less than a foot away from him. 

You grab his hand, gently turning it upward, and place the folded paper in this palm. “Because I do love you, even if I’ve been communicating it in a really shitty way.” 

Minho looks down at the paper, scribbled writing peeking out from the interior, and back at you in question. 

“I’m not good at verbally telling you how I feel, so I tried writing down everything I could,” you murmur, seeing a look of astonishment cross your boyfriend’s face. 

“Can I read it now?” Minho asks, smiling as he flicks his gaze between you and the letter. 

You lightly shrug, trying to ignore your warming cheeks. “If you want to.”

Minho unfolds the letter, bringing it closer to his face. You wait with bated breath, wringing your fingers in front of you as your boyfriend’s eyes trail over the letter you poured out of your heart and soul. 

“If you don’t like it, you can burn it,” you say, half-joking. 

Minho snaps his head up at your voice. “Do you mean it? Do you mean everything you wrote?”

“Of course, I do, dummy,” you laugh, sending him what you’re sure is the epitome of a lovesick smile. “I love you.”

Minho crosses the door’s threshold, wrapping his arms around your waist as yours simultaneously wrap around his middle. 

“I love you, too,” he whispers into your neck, pressing plush kisses along the skin. “Thank you.”

liked this work? want to let me know how i did? please like, comment, and/or reblog; they are greatly appreciated my asks are always open ♡

taglist : @linospuddin @linocz @spicyhyunn @inlovewithstraykids @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21

@hwangism143 @feelikecinderella @celebration88 @ssickmagnolia8

[satorusugurugurl]

What’s Your Favorite Scary Movie?

Summary: You get a call from an unknown number, that leads to one of the most erotic moments of your entire life.

Pairing: Ghostface!Geto Suguru X AFAB!Reader

Warnings: Primal play, knife play, language, chasing, role-play, sex, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding kink

Word Count: 1.8K

A/N: Kinktoner day eight! Ghostface! I love the Scream Franchise and it’s my sisters favorite movie ever. Which is funny because no one believes this cute five foot nothing girly girl loves it. She can quote it! Suguru call me and chase me! 🥴

The smell of popcorn flooded the house as you hummed happily in the kitchen, standing on your tiptoes and grabbing a large bowl from the cabinet. October was one of your favorite times of year—changing seasons, scary movies, and getting cozy under a blanket. Tonight was going to be a nice lazy night in.

You pulled the steaming bag of popcorn out of the microwave, slowly opening it carefully so you would not burn yourself when your cell phone started ringing. Thinking it was your boyfriend, you reached into your back pocket, pulled it out, and found an unknown number on the screen. You thought about it for a second before answering the call.

“Hello?” You asked putting it on speaker to allow yourself to empty the contents of the popcorn bag into the bowl.

“Hi.” A smooth came through on the other line.

You blinked, tilting your head to the side as you grinned. “Who is this?” The man laughed, and you could practically hear him smiling from the other line.

“Who is this?”

You laughed, pouring the popcorn into a bowl. “You called me.” The man hummed in response.

“You got a boyfriend?”

“Yeah, I do.” You laughed, carrying the popcorn to the living room and placing it on the coffee table. “Why were you wanting to take me out on a date?”

“Maybe I was.”

You walked around the living room with a smile, twirling some of your hair around a finger and biting your lip in anticipation. Deep down in your gut, you could feel the excitement boiling inside you.

“Well, I’m so sorry. I’m happily taken.” You purred out like your words in itself were a sin. “Have a good night.”

Just before you could hang up, you could hear a creaking sound. One that wasn’t because of your weight. No, this was further down and much too heavy to be your cat. Your heart dropped into your stomach as you tightened your phone grip. You slowly approached the coat closet with a shudder.

“Ooor maybe—I could just take you for myself.”

“W-What’s that supposed to mean?” You asked, hand reaching out for the doorknob.

“That I’m going to take you.”

The door to the flung open, and a man towered over you wearing a Ghostface mask and matching flowing black robes. The phone fell from your hand as you inhaled sharply, turning on your heels and running as fast as you could. Ghostface growled from behind you, chasing you down the hall towards your bedroom.

You ran to the opposite side of the bed, trying to open your window to the backyard. Only it was jammed for some ungodly reason. You screamed in pure frustration, trying to open it with all your might. But the sound of footsteps behind you had you abandoning your attempt, causing you to scream in fear as he lunged for you.

You barely managed to get away, falling back on your ass against the wall. Your hands reached for the alarm clock that was sitting there. And you threw it to your assailant, missing him by a long shot. He ducked his head, looking back at the alarm clock that hit a wall before he turned his focus back on you with a snarl.

“You little shit!” His voice was harsh and cold, sending a swarm of butterflies to gather deep inside your stomach. A black gloved hand shot out, grabbing you by your ankle and yanking you towards him. “Bitch!”

“Fuck!” You cried out, your heart drumming inside your ears as you searched for anything and everything to defend yourself. But there were hardly any weapons around that could be useful. “No!” you cried, even though the word held no heat.

He reached into under his robes, pulling out a hunting knife. You choked on a moan. It wasn’t even a scream as he lifted you off the ground, throwing you onto the mattress. Ghostface grabbed a hold of your shirt, ripping it open with the knife. The sound of ripping fabric went straight between your legs as you considered running. However, all those thoughts dissipated like fog in the morning; that cool steel ran over your belly before digging into your shorts. The air was cool as it hit your skin as you lay there completely bare ass side from your strawberry print panties.

“Oooh fuck!” you cried out as he held the knife above your head. But instead of thrusting the blade down into you, it fell to the mattress as those same loved hands that gripped your ankle reached down, undoing the tie to his robes.

He pulled them apart, exposing his well-toned chest. You whimpered as the same loved hands down his body, grabbing his jeans, unbuttoning them, freeing an erection that was throbbing and leaking pre-cum already. Both of your legs were grabbed and draped over the shoulders of the masked man before you as he jerked himself twice before pulling your drenched panties to the side.

“Oooh fuck—fuck!” you grabbed hold of the sheets underneath you. The head of his cock rubbed up and down over your slick folds.

“You want this?” he asked, his head to the side as he pressed his cock harder against you. “You want me to fuck you, Princess?”

That familiar nickname, the way that he grabbed a hold of your hips, and you soaking wet with anticipation. “Oooh fuck!” you cried out, biting down on your bottom lip as Ghostface tilted his head to the other side, waiting for your consent your verbal approval. “Fuck me!!” you begged, and that was the only two words he needed to hear before he was shoving his hard throbbing cock inside of you.

“Fuck!” He hissed out, holding your legs firmly over his shoulders as he dragged your ass further to the edge of the bed as he stood there towering above you. “Fuck yes, Princess!”

The position that you were in allowed him to hit the deepest parts of you. The head of his cock slammed against your cervix so hard you were sure he was going to bruise it. But you welcomed the pain. It only intensified the pleasure that you were feeling with each drag of his cock in and out of your tight wet cunt.

“Fuck yes! Fuck me!” Groans of pure, unfiltered pleasure were stifled by the masked man from above you. “Fuck!” you screamed, watching as his large hands left your hips, moving to grab the tops of your thighs, pressing your legs together as he fucked you harder, making the bed creak underneath so you could join the headboard, slamming against the wall as your home body shock with tremors.

“Nnngh~!” Ghost face yelled, throwing his head back as you rocked your hips up and down in time with his powerful thrusts.

“Harder! Harder!” you begged, feeling his fingers dig into the top of your thighs. “Oooh~! Fuuuck me!!”

Ghostface reaches down, rubbing his thumb in circles around your click in time, and does a deep thrust. “You’re mine, all fucking mine.” His cock moved in and out deeper, faster, harder, coding his cock and your inner thighs with your slick wetness. “Say it,” he commanded. “Tell me you’re mine!”

“I’m yours!” You screamed, not even hesitating or questioning what he wanted you to say. The second, those two words left your mouth much like your consent. He left all convection behind, throwing himself forward, putting you into a meeting press as he slammed into you with the force that rocked your soul out of your body. “Fuckk me! Fuck me! Fuuuck me!!”

Your legs were pressed back as Ghostface fucked you with a purpose. You could hear him grunting and groaning above before he finally reached up, grabbed the mask, and pulled it to the side. Strands of raven hair fell in his face, and violet eyes looked down at you. Both his hands pressed firmly behind your knees, pressing you further back against the mattress. His cheeks were flushed a dusty rose color as he huffed and snarled, losing himself to the scenario you had created together.

“C-Cumming!” you screamed as big tears slow down your cheeks, staining them.“Cumming! Cumming!”

Your masked man’s eyes rolled back into his head as he felt your walls hugging him, pulling him deeper inside of you. “Get pregnant! Get pregnant fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” He barked out as his cock throbbed hard inside of you. Warmth filled you as he flooded your pussy and womb with his cum. You were expecting him to breed you. But you gladly welcomed it.

It looks like you weren’t the only one who was in this.

What had started as a lazy day watching horror movies into one of the most erotic experiences of your entire life? And it was the same for your boyfriend, who was sweating as he pulled the rope. He was wearing off, letting it fall to the ground below. You sighed, swallowing hard as the Ghostface mask and your tattered clothing were tossed onto the floor.

“So~,” Your sexy and super supportive boyfriend asked softly as he crawled onto the bed with you, pulling you up to the pillows. “Do I still get to take you out on a date?”

Suguru brushed strands of your hair out of your face as he watched you continue to come down from the intensity of your orgasm. “Fuck Suguru if you fuck me like that again. I would gladly marry you tomorrow.” Geto snickered, pulling you into his chest as he stroked your hair back. “That was so fucking hot.” You whispered, pressing kisses along his chest before you ran your index finger slowly up and down his stomach. “Thanks for doing that for me. For this fulfilling one of my fantasies.”

Suguru hummed a pressing agent kiss to the top of your head. “Next time, let’s take this outside. I want to chase you through the backyard.” He felt you squirm next to him at the idea of this not being a one-time scenario. “Yeah, you like that? I bet that pussy of yours is throbbing, isn’t it?” There was no denying that as you nodded your head. “Good, because I’m gonna make you scream.” You suddenly had more love for the cult, classic movie than you ever had before.

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3 @wil10wthetree @msniks @lana18918

Kinktober Tag List:

@candy-s72

[wonderjanga]

Marilyn Gets Revived

In this AU, the time bubble was formed in 62, Billy got his powers in 59, and the twin’s parents died in 58. There was also the fact that her body was found, but C.C.’s never was. So, as for how this works, I don’t particularly know. Maybe, since Fawcett is weird, the magic of the city revived her? You decide.

The point is, Marilyn Batson crawls out of her grave, Jason Todd style, and wanders the streets in the funeral dress she was buried in.

Marvel: *patrolling when he sees a woman, dirtied with bloodied hands* (from both crawling out of the grave and breaking the coffin)

Marilyn: *walking down the street, trying to get to get to Ebenezer’s house to ask what the hell is going on*

Marvel: *flies down* “Miss? Are you alright?”

Marilyn: “Oh uhm… Yes, I’m fine.” *looks up to Marvel and literally freezes when she sees her husband*

Marvel: “Are you sure? I can take you to the hospital. Your hands are bleeding heavily.” *doesn’t recognize her*

Marilyn: “C.C.?”

Marvel: “Huh?” *confused as to if she either said his dad’s name, or if she said ‘see see’*

Marilyn: “C.C. it’s me. What’s going on? Why’re you dressed like that?” *happy to see her husband even though she doesn’t know he’s not her husband*

Marvel: *computing* “Mo-” *looks around before leaning in to whisper* “You’re Marilyn Batson??” *sounds completely baffled* “Are you real?”

Marilyn: “Wha- Clarence Charles Batson, of course I’m real!”

Being called by his dad’s name made Billy’s mind blank. He didn’t really know what to do except take her to the Watchtower’s medbay because he isn’t going to take his mom to just any hospital. His mom deserves the best. And so, the JL were graced with the image of the eight foot five Cap, with a seven foot ten woman who looks like she’s been through hell and back. And yes, Marilyn is 7’10 because if Captain Marvel is a copy of C.C. Batson, he would’ve been 8’5 so he needs an almost equally as tall wife.

Marilyn: *hands bandaged* “So… What happened to archeology?”

Marvel: *awkward* “Oh right, uh… I’m not da-” *slowly looks over to see Flash and GL spying from the doorway*

Marilyn: *also looks over to them*

GL: *clears throat and walks over* “Who’s this lovely lady, hmm?”

Marvel: “This is Marilyn. Marilyn, that’s Green Lantern. The guy over there still lurking and stalking is Flash.”

Marilyn: *bright ahh smile* “It’s lovely to meet you. When did you become friends with my husband?”

Flash: *zooms over* “Husband?” *jaw is on the floor*

Marvel: “Mari-”

GL: *summons a metal clamp to shut Billy’s mouth* “Sooooo how long have you two been married?”

Marilyn: “Since we were nineteen. So twenty years!”

Flash: “Twenty years…?” *looks between Marilyn and Marvel* “Dude. How do you just forget to tell us that?!”

Marvel: “Uh…” *just grabs Marilyn, and dips out, dragging her to the zeta tubes*

Marilyn: “C.C. what’s wrong?”

Marvel: “Nothing at all. We just need to talk. Not here.”

Marilyn: “Okay…?”

So, Billy drags them to one of the buildings Billy and Mary live in. When Marilyn saw Mary she immediately hugged her baby.

Marilyn: “You’re so big, yet so tiny! You haven’t been eating enough have you?!” *hugging the life out of Mary*

Mary: *getting suffocated while crying*

Marilyn: “Has your father not been feeding you enough?” *glares over at Marvel*

Mary: “What? No, dad’s… dead.”

Marilyn: *slowly looks confused* “Then who…?”

Marvel: “Shazam.”

Billy: “Surprise…?”

Yeah, Marilyn spoiled your two with lots and lots and lots of motherly affection after this. The twins were just happy to have their mommy back.

Bonus:

Billy: “Shazam!”

Marilyn: *standing nearby, gets hit by stray lightning* “Huh…?”

Marilyn Batson now has a Marvel form and she gets to fight with her babies.

[rosedustdreams]

a fic where walker is like afraid of spiders and the oc has to kill the spider even though they are also afraid of spiders

Spider slayer's

It was supposed to be a chill night. You and Walker were laying out on the couch, surrounded by snacks, a movie playing softly in the background. Everything was perfect..... until you saw it.

A spider.

It wasn’t just any spider, either. This one was big, the kind that looked like it had no business existing indoors. It was stuck on the wall, motionless but menacing, as if it were plotting its next move.

Your stomach dropped. You froze, pointing a shaky finger. “Walker...” He followed your gaze, and the second he spotted it, his face went pale. “Oh, no. Nope. Absolutely not.” He said jumping up from the couch

“You’ve got to kill it!” you whisper-shouted, already inching further away from the spider.

“Me?” Walker’s voice cracked as he scrambled up onto the couch, looking as though he wanted to be anywhere but here. “No way. You kill it!”

“Are you serious right now?” you asked, clutching a pillow like it could shield you from the eight-legged intruder. “You’re supposed to be the brave one!”

“Bravery has its limits,” he replied, glancing at the spider like it was his mortal enemy. “And mine stops at spiders that look like it can star in a horror movie.”

You groaned, realising that if either of you wanted to survive the night, one of you had to deal with it. The problem? You were just as terrified. “Okay,” you said, trying to psych yourself up. “We’ll do it together.”

“Together?” Walker echoed, his tone doubtful. “How does that work? Do we both throw a shoe at it?”

“No,” you said, glaring at him despite your trembling hands. “One of us has to get close enough to—”

“To what? Have it leap at us and start a new life in our hair?” Walker interrupted, shuddering at the thought. “Would you stop?” you snapped, though you couldn’t help the nervous laugh that bubbled up. “You’re not helping!”

After a brief (and slightly ridiculous) strategy session, the two of you decided on a plan: you’d grab the broom to corner it, and Walker would finish it off with a rolled-up magazine.

Armed and ready or as ready as two terrified teenagers could be—you approached the spider cautiously.

“Closer,” Walker whispered, standing a safe distance behind you. “I am getting closer!” you hissed, inching the broom toward the spider.

The second the broom touched the wall, the spider fell down toward's the floor. Both of you screamed in unison, scrambling back as it darted under the couch.

“This is a nightmare,” Walker said, pacing like he was about to have a full-blown meltdown.

You knelt down, peering under the couch. “Okay, new plan. I’ll... I’ll flush it out, and you smash it.”

“Define ‘smash,’” he said nervously. “End its reign of terror, Walker!” you said.

With a deep breath, you used the broom to push under the couch, forcing the spider into the open. It went across the floor, heading straight for Walker, who yelped and threw the magazine at it.

To your shock, the spider stopped. “Did you get it?” you asked, peering around Walker’s legs.

“I don’t know,” he said, gripping the back of the couch like his life depended on it. You approached cautiously, giving the magazine a nudge with your foot. Sure enough, the spider didn't move.

Walker let out a loud exhale, collapsing back onto the couch. “We did it. We survived.”

“We?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow. “I’m pretty sure I was the one who flushed it out.”

“And I was moral support,” he said with a grin,You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help laughing. “Next time, you’re on spider duty.”

“Next time?” Walker said, wide-eyed. “Let’s agree there’s never a next time.” you flopped down beside him, both of you still a little rattled but relieved. “I can’t believe we just battled a spider together,” you said, leaning against his shoulder.

“Spider Slayer Duo,” Walker said, holding up his hand for a high-five. You laughed, smacking his hand lightly. “Let’s never do that again.”

“Deal,” he said, wrapping an arm around you as the two of you resumed your movie night.

A/N: i love this so much lmk what we think

Tags: @sophand4n4, @kaiwrites092