#it’s not going to be as easy as he thinks it’ll be

[morganbritton132]

Fic where the Corroded Coffin boys need money for The Battle of the Bands in Chicago.

They’re getting high and thinking of ways to come up with the money - selling their shit, donating blood, ect - when one of them suggest they do a ransom.

Dick Harrington is the richest guy in town. Surely, he’d pay big bucks for his only son, right? They could get enough cash to get to the Battle of the Bands and also buy new amps. They should do this, right?

It’ll be easy.

Turns out, it’s not easy to kidnap someone because Steve fights back surprisingly hard. Gareth is limping. Jeff has a broken nose. Grant has an asthma attack chasing Steve when he runs.

The only reason they get him is because Eddie hit him with his van and now they’re all panicking about how he’s probably slowly dying from a head bleed. This what they’re doing when Steve slowly regains consciousness, tied up in Gareth’s mom’s basement.

They don’t stop panicking until he’s like, “Um, can I get a cigarette?”

Steve is both the best and worst hostage they’ve ever had (also the only hostage they’ve ever had). He doesn’t scream or cry like they thought he would, but he’s really bitchy and kinda mean, and he does try to escape when Eddie unties him so he can use the bathroom.

It’s like three hours later when Steve tells them that his dad is not going to pay a ransom because like, “He doesn’t even like me.”

“He’ll pay,” Eddie says, breaking his hour long streak of ignoring Steve. “Anybody would pay to get their kid back.”

“He didn’t last time.”

Freeze. Record scratch. “What?”

“What do you need the money for anyways?” Steve asks. Grant tells him and a Steve nods like, “Oh. Yeah, I can get you the money. Easy peasy.”

Cut to a genre change. This is a heist now and the Corroded Coffin boys quickly learn that Steve is fucking insane and also, maybe their manager now?

[pinksugarberries]

Hey, do you write for min su? Just him being a bit of a pervert

pervert min-su x fem!reader

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﹒　૮꒰◞ ◟ ꒱ა　⸝　new upload!　❜

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　⸝⸝　　◦　　tags: pervertness, suggestive staring/language, min-su acting clueless and dumb to get his way, reader is more clueless, game au, mentions of jerking off, i wouldn’t call this smut but some people may so idk, min-su overshares with the wrong people and they fuck him over, female reader intended (sorry fellas…), ooc? (most likely)

　⸝⸝　　◦　　a/n: how late am i to this…? shut up. also im sorry if this isn’t what you wanteddd people being perverted isn’t my favorite thing to write about but i had no other ideas and decided to do my request so i hope this is good for you!! i also just don’t like writing about me unless it’s like nam-gyu hehehehehhe also sorry if this isn’t short it is currently 1:33AM while i’m writing this sentence…

BLUE: MIN-SU

GREEN: NAM-GYU

PURPLE: THANOS (his english is in italics)

PINK: READER

masterlist • rules

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min-su is a perv, but not on purpose… his eyes just wander and happen to land on you…!

…right?

yes, min-su is naturally shy and a people pleaser, who is usually timid and gets under pressure extremely easy, but why wouldn’t he use that advantage of him being ‘clueless’ or shy all the time to ogle at the girl that’s also in the group with him?

ever since you, se-mi, min-su, nam-gyu, thanos, and gyeong-su have been hanging out, he’s found himself staring more and more at your lips, or at your chest while your talking. enjoying the way your lips move and fantasize on how they would feel against bist, and how your chest would feel if he’s holding them in his hands. wait, is he drooling? fuck.

it’s not his fault you just are the definition of eye candy.

past that, he would always want to attempt to protect you or become someone you could lean on, but he’s to shy to really do anything about it.

when you two are alone, he gets really scared, as if he wasn’t already before, while you talk to him you can’t help but he his eyes ‘innocently’ graze your figure. you didn’t think anything of it, he didn’t mean any harm!

after a game, or talking to you alone, he feels all this pent up emotion that he just goes to the bathroom and relieves some stress.

by imagining you sucking or jerking him off in the stall.

he can’t help it!

cutting to lights out, he finds himself admitting his feelings to nam-gyu and thanos out of peer pressure

(during this section if you didn’t read the cor coded text names before this started, please go back! it’ll make sense!)

“i—i mean she’s cute.. i—i don’t really know..”

”dude—“

thanos put a hand out and looked up at the both of them from where he was sitting “nam-su i got this, bro”

“dude, we’ve seen the way you look at her tits, it’s okay man.”

min-su attempted to save himself, but let out a shaky sigh, putting his head down as he spoke.

“…yeah well, i’ve liked her since she’s joined the team. i mean, she’s kind, funny, endearing, very… very beautiful… and… um… very beautiful…yeah…” he rambled to them, not on purpose, but everything just flowed perfectly.

“min-su, when you had to go to the bathroom as soon as we got back from grabbing our lunches, why’d you immediately have to go to the bathroom?” “oh! i know!”

“we all heard you by the way, bro”

min-sus heart sank as he listened to the boys, shrugging them off.

(to cut this short, nam-gyu and thanos told you and you eventually started avoiding his slightly more since you were creeped out)

ok scenario over!!!

while he was sitting next you, he accidentally gripped your waist,

as you felt the grip of his hand on your waist, you turned to him with a concerned and scared looked on your face.

“min-su?” “are you okay?”

he looked completely shaken up as he let go quickly, turning the other way from you.

“yes— i’m so— so so sorry.. i’m sorry.. that was an accident.”

“it’s okay, just give me a warning next time..!”

[lovethyauthors]

OP I LOVE YOU

I’ll just be over here not thinking about how their hearts drop when reader says that and panic takes over. Definitely not thinking about how the confusion fades into heartbreak when reader refers to herself as a burden, and their minds are racing trying to figure out how she could possibly think that.

Not thinking about how Price was only used to reader calling him captain in a flirty way at home or on missions, always feeling grounded when she says it, and how wrong it feels now, hearing it dejected and pained and it’s his fault, it’s all his fault, he’s let his team down. Everything he’s done is to keep his team safe and this means he’s failed, spectacularly.

I’m also not thinking about ghost and how this makes him feel, growing up believing he wasn’t worthy of love but then she came into his life swinging, and knocked all his walls down, made him believe he was worthy! And good!! And deserving of the little family their team had become!!! And now feels his heart cracking at having it all ripped away from him, a persistent voice in his head taunting him, telling him he should’ve known it was too good to be true, telling him he didn’t deserve it, not after all the things he’s done.

And SOAP and Gaz who can’t stop thinking that they’ve known better, should’ve done more, when they smelled her sour scent, should’ve been more persistent when she slammed the door in their face. And now they’re losing her, they’re losing their family!

Don’t mind me, I’m not thinking about how delicious the angst will be when they try to explain that no she’s not a burden, they’ve been distant not because they don’t love her but because they’ve been so caught up dealing with a threat against her life, or whatever other reason they’ve been acting like assholes, and didn’t want to scare her. They’re not excluding her from the meetings because they don’t want her there, they’re just trying to protect her without scaring her.

I’m even more so not thinking about how long it’d take them to try to convince her they still love her, how much it’ll break their hearts that even after she forgives them, there’s still a piece of her heart that doubts them, because it’s not so easy to repair things you’ve carelessly broken. They’ll need to earn back her trust piece by piece and it’s like walking over hot coals to think that they’re the reason why she feels like this now, but by god they’ll do it like the good soldiers they are, nothing in their training has taught them to back down from a fight and they certainly won’t in the most important fight of their lives.

Yup, definitely not thinking of any of that at all, no thoughts, head empty. Excuse me while I go sob in a corner 😭😭

Hey friend. I've put off this ask a little while, because I'm sure you're tired of getting it by now, but... are there any updates on the neglected! reader (a/b/o)? I really liked that one, and though I have no issues with the second part not being done yet, a little progress update (if you want to add one) would be very cool! Thanks for writing :)

ugh i know i've been putting it off for a long time but i haven't abandoned it guys! just feeling very stuck with where the narrative is sitting rn 🥲 however, here's a little tease of the beginning of part two, keep in mind it may not be written exactly like this when i post it:

"what?" kyle mumbles, rising from john's lap to grapple with the sudden coldness that overcomes him. no one else says anything, but you can see how your words affect the rest of them: john stiffens in his seat, simon's dismissive glance has turned into a burning glare, and johnny's hand has slipped from where it was resting on his captain's shoulder, a look of confusion and panic twisting on his face.

your anxiety may have dissipated, but that doesn't make this any easier. the air feels too tense, too uncomfortable. you don't like how agitated everyone's scents became the moment you walked in, and it hurts even more knowing they didn't even try to hide it. you don't like seeing them all together here like this. you don't like that you're believing that spiteful little voice in the back of your mind jeering at you that they've been planning your departure, planning how to break the news to you that you're not worth the hassle anymore.

it only makes sense why they're all cooped up in john's office, whispering amongst themselves.

"darling, what are you talking about?" john's voice cuts through your thoughts, but you try not to find comfort in it. he stands from his seat, and you try not to reveal how much you've missed his scent despite how thick it is with stress. your omega has been quiet for a while, but now that you're gathered in one place like this, she's getting restless, simultaneously wanting to hiss at them and cling to anyone who will spare a scrap of affection.

"please, captain, just do it. i don't want to be a burden any longer." you'll beg if that's what it takes; you'll get on your knees and clasp your hands together if it means saving them from unnecessary stress and annoyance and you from further heartbreak.

the earnestness in your voice is so strong it bites at them because how could you even suggest something like that? how could they even consider their pack whole if you're not there?

but hearing his rank fall from your lips leaves a bitter taste in john's mouth and a knot forming in his stomach. it's unnatural to hear you call him that while sounding so defeated and miserable. it's scary to feel so out of control when he's supposed to be your captain, your head alpha.

to know he's let you down so much makes his alpha growl pathetically in shame; how can he even consider himself a leader?

[harryforvogue]

harry and mia blurb. 1.8k. as always, happy reading! based on this message ... from 2021

---

The thud of Harry’s duffel bag dropping onto the floor forces Mia out of her daydreams. She stops staring at him – even though it’s well within her right to as someone so intimately occupied with him – and smiles up at the newest arrival. He’s just stepped out of the bathroom, a hoodie and sweats on, dragging the bag to the end of her bed frame so it’s no longer a tripping hazard. 

Harry’s hair is tied into a bun at the back of his head, but the strands he couldn’t avoid getting wet in the shower frame his face in cute ringlets. Harry loops his work bag over the back of her desk chair and then falls onto her twin XL bed with a grunt. Face first. 

The bed is so small, not just compared to all six feet of Harry, that his arms naturally fall into her lap. He adjusts himself then, wrapping his arms around her waist, shuffling closer to bury his face against her hip. It’s easy to fall back into the rhythm of having Harry in her space, no matter how startling it is to see him only every few months. The excitement doesn’t go away totally, but it dissipates into comfort. Evolves.

Harry sighs deeply. Mia relieves his hair of the tight bun, and then his sigh turns into a very tired hum. 

“Long flight?” Mia whispers. She walks her fingers down his neck and shoulders, pressing the backs of her knuckles into the hard flesh at the top of his spine. Harry groans and drops his shoulders.

“Worked the entire flight. I wanted to sleep,” Harry mutters. He lifts his head up and then flips over, staring at her upside down from where his head rests now in her lap. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Mia says softly, smoothing her thumbs over his forehead. “You should get some rest.”

Harry blinks. “No, I’m good. I’ll sleep at the hotel.” With yet another sound that he can’t seem to keep inside of him, he sits up and turns around, wrapping his right arm around her torso. “Come here.”

Mia happily lets him tug her towards him. His kiss is soft, always just a little bit hesitant when they meet after so long. His free hand cups her jaw, fingers curling into her own damp hair. When he pulls back, Mia swears there’s a hint of a smile on his face. The rest of him, though, still looks tired. Even his blinks are slow. 

“You can take my bed, sir,” Mia whispers, leaning in for another kiss. What she really wants to do is kiss him until she’s lost all reason, but she just feels so bad about how tired he looks. “It’s small but it’ll do the job.”

Harry drops his forehead to Mia’s shoulder. She thinks he kisses her collarbone, but she’s not too sure. The kiss is clumsy and not well positioned. Mia throws her arms around his big shoulders and goes back to knuckling at the stiff muscle, smiling when Harry shivers and spreads his large hands over her back.

“Fine,” he decides. Or maybe his body decides. “Just for half an hour.”

“Okay.” She goes to pull away. “I’ve an assignment I’ve been procrastinating anyways.”

Harry’s arms tighten. “No, sleep with me.”

It’s not a question. But it’s not an order either. Mia knows exactly how to tell the difference in tone when the statement from Harry comes as a command versus a suggestion versus – albeit rare – a joke. Right now, it’s a suggestion. He picks his head up and looks at her with his beautiful red rimmed green eyes and his pouty, tired mouth, and his red cheeks, and –

And Mia can’t say no to him.

“Yeah, all right,” she whispers, swallowing. 

Harry scoots back and pulls the duvet away. Before he buries himself into the bed, he tugs his hoodie off, giving Mia a breathtaking view of the smattering of tattoos on his arms and chest. She stops herself for a total of seven seconds before her hands are wandering over his flesh, as if it’s the first time she’s seeing them. Harry doesn’t mind, nor does he pull away. His eyes are closed, hair smushed under his cheek on her pillow. He’s taken the side closest to the wall, but even though he makes himself small, there’s so much of him. To accommodate the lack of space, Mia slinks into the warm bed and huddles close to him.

“Your roommate?” Harry murmurs against Mia’s hair. It’s a bit awkward. There’s a bit of maneuvering, and Mia ends up with her back to his chest. Still, his knees end up at her thighs and he has nowhere to put his other arm except under the pillow. It’ll fall asleep soon and cause discomfort, but Harry seems too tired to care.

“Studying in the library. Then she’s staying at her boyfriend’s dorm.”

“Did you tell her I’d be here?”

“I told her I’d have a guest.”

“Mm.” Harry’s hand slides over Mia’s skin when he snakes under her shirt. She clenches her stomach to prevent laughing out loud or jabbing her elbow into his stomach. “An hour okay? Set an alarm or something.”

“Okay,” Mia says.

She will not.

Maybe Harry will be upset with her when he ends up sleeping for a lot longer, but there’s no way a man can function like this. It’s simply not healthy. And it digs into their time together, but if Mia’s totally honest, she’s fine with just this. She’s missed Harry so much. It’s nice to be close to him, to feel his warmth against her back, his heavy arm over her waist. His presence is good for her.

Harry is out within seconds. His breathing evens before Mia actually gets comfortable.

Stupid man, Mia thinks. He overworks himself too much.

–

Later, when two and a half hours have gone by and Mia’s working on her assignment on her desk, she peeks over at him. He’s still fast asleep and hasn’t moved since he first laid down, arms where they would be if Mia was still cuddled up against him. But it’s eight p.m. now and though Harry needs the sleep, he won’t be able to rest again if he goes back to the hotel. It’ll start an annoying cycle of sleeping at the wrong hours.

He looks beautiful tucked into her ridiculously small bed. All pale skin and dark tattoos. Dark hair. She’s so happy she gets to see him in his most vulnerable state. 

Mia stands and shuffles closer. In her heart, she doesn’t want to wake him up. She leans on the mattress on her knees and carefully shakes him. “Hey. Sir, wake up.”

It takes a while to get him to give her a grunt, but when he does, he glances outside sharply and sighs at the dark night. His eyelashes stick together and there’s an imprint of her pillow’s folded edge right under his left eye.

“Amelia…”

“I know. You said to wake you up, but you looked so tired. I couldn't.”

He smells like sleep, like warmth. Mia carefully lowers herself onto him, straddling his hips, balancing herself out with hands rested on his lower stomach. Harry blinks at her a few times and then lazily looks over at his phone. The bright light illuminates his face so she has a perfect view of his furrowed eyebrows. He drops the phone back onto the bed. 

“Don’t you feel so much better?” Mia whispers. 

Harry’s fingers slide under her shirt again, holding her down. “Mhm.”

“You can stay the night, you know?”

Harry shakes his head. “Can’t.”

“You can. It’s my room and I say you can.”

It requires a fair amount of effort, but soon Harry’s sitting up, bleary eyed, rubbing his palms against his eyes. “I can’t,” he says, dropping his hands. “What time is your class tomorrow?”

“11.”

“And it’s done at–?”

“I have two classes. I’ll be done by 3.”

“I’ll pick you up at 3:45. We’ll eat in.”

He goes to move, but Mia’s hands stop him, holding him down. “Sir, you need to rest. I mean it.”

Harry’s eyebrows raise, a clear sign that he’s trying to be in charge, but the attempt melts away with his low energy. He puts his hands over hers and leans in for a quick kiss. No arguments after. He rolls her over and then heads to the bathroom to freshen up.

When he returns, she’s still sitting in her bed with her legs criss crossed, staring up at him. Before he goes to grab his bag, he leans down and kisses her hard, fingers curled around her jaw. She eagerly responds, dragging him back down by the collar so that he has to lean his weight on the mattress with a hand splayed on her headboard.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Harry’s promise is firm and resolute.He kisses her again. Pulls away. Thinks for a moment, and then kisses her once more. “It’s so very good to see you, Amelia.”

Butterflies erupt everywhere in her body. She follows his lips with her own, crawling closer when he goes to move away. “Come on. Please stay, sir.” She pouts. “You can take my bed. I’ll sleep on the floor or even my roommate’s bed.” Neither of them are her first choice, but whatever. 

Harry’s answer is a quick shake of his head. “Thank you,” he murmurs, thumbing over her mouth. “But, honestly, Amelia, the issue isn’t that.” A quick upwards turn of his lips and then – “My back will kill me tomorrow if I sleep in your bed overnight.”

Mia gapes at him as he moves to grab his work bag. “You’re such an elitist!” she whisper-shouts. “My twin XL bed wasn’t cheap! I paid for it in my room and board fees!”

Harry hums with a bigger smile on his face. “Tomorrow, 3:45. I’m going to be at your door, got it?”

“If you hate my mattress so much, why don’t you buy me a new one!”

“We’re going to my hotel and we’re going to have dinner–” he says slowly.

“And why don’t you complain to the college while you’re at it!”

“And we’ll open a bottle of wine and maybe take a bath, have dessert–” Harry comes closer, a fire in his tired eyes.

“You have no right to complain considering you just hogged my blankets for two freaking hours!”

“--and I’m finally, finally,” Harry murmurs, reaching for her jaw to shut her mouth, “going to show you how much I fucking missed you.”

Mia stops. She puts down the pillow she grabbed in her frustration to hurl at him. “Oh. Okay.”

“Okay?” Harry says, amused, searching her face.

“Uh huh.”

“Good.” Harry drops his hand and lays an innocent kiss to her cheek. It seems like a reward. “Now.” He goes for the door. “Tomorrow. I’ll see you.”

“Um.”

“Goodnight.”

Mia sits there and blinks.

“Wait!” She scrambles off the bed, running to the door. “You can’t just say that and leave! Hey!” The door shuts behind Harry, but she can hear him quietly laughing. “You can’t just leave now!”

[adoresia]

꣑ৎ contains ★ Fluff ,, Crack ,, suggestive (if you squint) ,, might be ooc cause i havent met him yet.. gulp.

ft Michael Kaiser :: ★ Getting a matching tattoo with your boyfriend was one thing, trusting him with a needle was definitely another. ★ W/C 0.8k

˙🧷 ̟ Sia here ! :: I haven’t even met kaiser yet but i saw this illustration and i started barking out loud, i saw it on pinterest but the artist is bunnyluvrrr on instagram her drawings are so good you guys should go check them out 😚😚

˙🏷️ ̟ Kaiser’s masterlist | BLLK masterlist | Main masterlist

Looking back, you weren’t sure why you agreed to let him tattoo you. Actually scratch that, you knew exactly why — because of his inability to take no for an answer.

A week ago, when he first proposed the idea of getting matching tattoos you almost choked on your drink. “You? Want to Tattoo me? Yeah, no.” you laughed off this sudden joke of his, but knowing him he wasn’t going yo give up so easily. “You didn’t even think about it,” he whined dramatically. Flopping onto the couch beside you with the same infuriating grin. “I’ve got great hands. You trust me on the field don’t you?”

“Hey so, a football and a needle are actually two different things.”

“Don’t you think I’d be good at it? I’ve got an eye for detail.”

“You keep telling yourself that,” you muttered, but he ignored it completely.

“I think it would be cool,” he insisted, leaning closer. “Our tattoos will connect like we do. That’s Romantic, no?” You squinted at him. “That sounds like a really bad pickup line”

“Well, did it work?” He smirked smugly. “I literally just said bad.” you deadpanned him. Why is he trying to gaslight you?” Admit you’re thinking about it.”

“Yeah, I’m thinking about why I’m still talking to you.”

But of course, a week later here you were. Perched on the extra cushioned chair of a makeshift tattoo station he set up especially for you, your leg extended across his lap while he prepped the machine with a confident flick of his wrist.

“You nervous?” His voice was honeyed with amusement as his eyes flickered up to meet yours. “No.” you lied through your teeth. “Just wondering how and why I ended up trusting you with a needle.”

“Because you realised you have nothing to worry about, I am the best. You know that right?” He chuckled. “At football, maybe.” You answered rolling your eyes.His grin only grew as he gently took hold of your thigh, his fingers brushed against your skin in a way that made your breath hitch. He was steady and confident, yet surprisingly tender.“I’ll be gentle,” he promised. Athough the teasing tone in his voice made you doubt it. “Yeah okay, just hurry up.”

The humming sound of the machine filled the room, and the first prick of the needle made you tense. His hand tightened ever so slightly around your leg grounding you. “Relax,” he reassured. “It’ll hurt less if you stop being so stiff.”

Easy for him to say.

Okay you were nervous, but not just about the tattoo. There was something about the way his fingers rested on your skin, firm yet oddly intimate, that had your heart racing. And of course he noticed.

“Aw, what’s this?” he teased, glancing up with a grin. “You sure it’s the needle making you so nervous?”

“Shut up.”

“Oh yeah?” he teased, his voice thick with amusement. “Is that why you keep looking away from me? I see those paintings on the wall everyday. There isn’t anything all that interesting about them.” he teased. You hadn’t even realised you were staring so hard at the paintings behind him, trying to divert your attention from what was going on in front of you.

“Focus on the tattoo.” was the inly thing you could muster up. It made him laugh. The sound was warm and far too smug. “Whatever you say.”

As the needle traced along your leg, following the intricate design that wrapped from his arm to your leg, you couldn’t help but notice how focused he was. Despite all the teasing, he was meticulous with the way he traced the ink into your skin. The thorned stem mirrored the one on his arm — it was sharp and elegant. The vines curled gracefully around your thigh, wrapping down your leg in a way that made it look seamless, as if your tattoos were always meant to be connected.

Every one of his movements was precise and his concentration showed in the way he furrowed his eyebrow. His usual arrogance was still there, but it was tempered by precision and care. His teasing words contrasted with the steady determination and gentleness in his eyes.

“Are you still with me?” he asked, his voice somewhat softer now.

“mhm,” you managed to utter. Although your heart raced for reasons that had very little to do with the sting of the tattoo at this point.

“Your a tough girl.”

The teasing never stopped but neither did the gentleness. His thumb brushed absentmindedly against your skin which soothed the burn of the needle. You wondered if he even realized he was doing it.

“You’re doing great baby,” he praised. His eyes flickered up again. “I told you I was good with my hands.”

“Do you ever stop flirting?”

“Not when it’s working.”

Despite yourself, you laughed. The tension eased from your body and he grinned as if that was the real victory here. And when he finally finished, he leaned back to admire his work. The thorned stem wrapped elegantly around your leg, seamlessly continuing from his own tattoo. It was beautiful; raw and intimate in a way you could’ve never expected.

“Perfect.” he said proudly, wiping down the fresh ink. “Just like us.”

“You’re so annoying.” you muttered. Although your lips curled into a smile.

“And yet here you are,” he grinned as he wiped the last bit of ink residue from your skin.

You ignored him though, turning your leg slightly to get a better look at the intricate design etched into the entirety of your leg. It was so beautifully detailed. Each curve wrapped so elegantly around your skin, tracing a sinuous path from just above your knee to the side of your thigh, and the way it so seamlessly connected to Kaiser’s own tattoo felt… intimate. Like your tattoos were meant to intertwine, bound together, just as he had promised.

“Wow,” you breathed, fingers hovering near the fresh ink but really careful not to touch. “You outdid yourself.”

He said nothing at first, unusually silent and less taunting. His eyes fixed on your reaction instead of the tattoo. You could feel his gaze, it was warm and unwavering. Tracking every subtle shift of your expression while you admired his work. His usual teasing demeanor softened as it was replaced by something quieter and more genuine.

“You like it?” he finally asked, you glanced up at him and when you met his gaze your heart did that stupid fluttering thing it always did when he dropped the cocky act for just a second. “Yeah,” you admitted, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “I love it.” His lips curved into a knowing smirk. “I know you do.” You rolled your eyes, but the warmth in your chest lingered.

He leaned closer, thumb brushing gently along your thigh just below the fresh ink. “I told you I was good with my hands,” he murmured , the teasing glint returned to his eyes. “And your ego is still insufferable.”

“But you love that too,” he said confidently. You shook your head with a laugh. “Debatable.”

“Not at all” His fingers lingered on your skin for a bit longer than necessary. “It is romantic, right?”

“You’re ridiculous,” you muttered, though you didn’t pull away from his touch.

“And yet you’re still here,” he whispered smugly, “matching tattoo and all.” He pressed a kiss just above the tattoo, his breath was warm and gentle against your freshly inked skin. “But you do love it, right?” He asked, eyes gleaming as he looked up at you.

“I guess I do.”

[wchswift]

pairing: eddie alden x f!reader

summary: you ask your boyfriend eddie to braid your hair. anon reqs: congratulations to the 125 followers! 🌺could i request eddie alden with the prompt: “could you help me [curl, straighten, braid, etc.] my hair?”

word count: 977

content: fluff, humor, established relationship, flirty

note: thank you sm anon!! sorry for accidentally deleting your request from my inbox, hope you see this <3 this is part of my 125 followers celebration! Join the celebration too!

── english isn't my first language :)

mdni 𖤐 18+

You huffed in frustration, staring at your reflection in the small mirror propped up on Eddie’s dresser. You and Eddie had arranged to go out tonight, like a date, something more romantic and intimate to spend time together.

The night out was supposed to be fun—a few drinks, some dancing, and a good night together after returning to the apartment. Maybe you’d even tease him a little if he got jealous of a guy looking at you. Lately, you and Eddie hadn’t been able to enjoy a good time outside of just the two of you, so you decided to dress up more than usual and even braid your hair—something different from your typical loose, wavy style

Behind you, Eddie lay sprawled out on the bed, one arm tucked under his head, watching your struggle with a lazy smirk.

“You know, I’m pretty sure you’ve been fighting with that thing longer than it’ll actually take us to get to the bar,” he teased, his voice dripping with amusement.

You shot him a glare through the mirror. “Oh, I’m sorry, did you suddenly become a hair expert?”

“Maybe,” he shrugged, grinning. “I mean, how hard can it be? Twist a little, loop a little, tie it up—bam. Done.”

A beat passed before you turned, eyes narrowing, analyzing him. “Think you could do better?”

Eddie raised a brow. “Are you seriously asking me to do your hair?”

“Yes,” you deadpanned, grabbing the brush and tossing it at him. He caught it with surprising ease. “Come on, babe... Seriously, could you please help me braid my hair?" you softly asked, pouting.

Eddie let out a dramatic sigh but swung his legs off the bed, patting the space between them. “Alright, sweetheart. Sit your pretty self down."

Rolling your eyes but secretly loving how easy this all was with him, you settled between his legs on the floor. His knees brushed your sides as he gathered your hair in his hands, fingers skimming the back of your neck in a way that made you shiver. He paused. “You okay?”

You scoffed. “It’s just… your hands are cold.”

“Uh-huh,” he hummed, smug as ever. “Thought maybe I had some kinda effect on you.”

You huffed a laugh. “Eddie, just focus.”

“Bossy,” he murmured, but there was warmth in his voice. “So… what exactly am I doing?” he asked, amusement still thick in his tone.

“A simple braid,” you said, “and don’t pull too hard, or I swear to God, Eddie—”

“I know, I know,” he chuckled. "Relax, baby, I'm not gonna hurt you, I'm gentle, huh?" he teased, and you just rolled your eyes.

His fingers threaded through your hair, working with more patience than you expected. You could feel him frowning slightly in concentration, his movements gentle, if a little unpracticed. Every now and then, he’d brush too close to your ear, or tilt your head slightly to the side, muttering, "Stay still, baby," like he was the one doing you a favor.

At one point, he clicked his tongue. “I should start charging for this.”

You snorted. “Yeah? What’s the price?”

Eddie leaned in slightly, his breath warm against your skin. “One kiss per braid.”

You grinned. “So if I ask for two?”

“Then I’m a very well-paid man,” he said, and you could hear the smirk in his voice.

A soft chuckle left your lips, and for a moment, you let yourself just be in this—his hands in your hair, the quiet hum of a song playing from the radio, the warmth of his presence behind you.

“You smell nice,” he murmured absentmindedly.

You let out an amused huff, but a smile crept onto your lips. “You’re just saying that to distract me from whatever disaster you’re creating back there.”

“Mm, maybe,” he admitted, his tone teasing. He remained silent for a few seconds before he sat back with a satisfied noise. “Done.”

You reached back, fingers brushing over a surprisingly neat braid. Turning in his lap, you gave him an impressed look. “Okay, where the hell did you learn that?”

Eddie shrugged, smirking. “You pick up a thing or two when you’ve spent years charming women.”

You raised your eyebrows playfully. "Is that so, Alden? Hum, I was gonna kiss you for your services, but I don’t know now…” You stated, turning back toward the mirror.

Eddie wrapped his strong arms around your waist from behind, pressing his chin to your shoulder. “Oh, c’mon, don’t get jealous.”

He let out an exaggerated gasp. “Don't be like that, baby. No tip? After all my hard work?”

You playfully jabbed him in the side, a teasing smile stretched across your face. “I don’t know if you deserve it...”

He just chuckled softly, pressing a gentle kiss against your shoulder. “Aw, baby, not even one?” he pleaded, his breath warm against your skin.

You pretended to think about it before turning to face him fully. “Fine. One.”

His grin was immediate. “I’ll take it.”

You leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. It was meant to be quick, but Eddie had other ideas—his fingers slid to your jaw, keeping you there just a second longer, deepening it just enough to leave you a little breathless.

When you pulled back, his smirk was nothing short of triumphant. “Guess that means I’m on permanent hair duty now, huh?”

You laughed, flicking his forehead. “Don’t push it, Alden.”

He grinned, reaching for his jacket. “C’mon, sweetheart. Let me spoil you.”

As you stood, adjusting your outfit, you caught him glancing at your braid with something almost proud in his expression. And, okay—maybe you would let him do it again sometime.

Maybe.

𖤐 reblogs and feedback are appreciated! requests are also welcome, ty!

[cryinggirlnamedhelen]

feeling a bit generous today, so for anyone who needs these, here are some tips for writing blue lock specifically (also some bonus facts at the end)

- right off the bat, don’t let popularity and likes on your posts be the only thing on your mind. when you write, make sure you’re also enjoying what you’re writing. doing this stuff only for fame and fans is a bit sad, but not only that, the quality of your work will decrease due to less passion.

- if you want it to get popular and fast, writing for rin, kaiser, or nagi is your best bet. they’re easily the most popular when it comes to this part of the fanbase, and people will eat up ANYTHING sweet when it comes to these nonchalant men.

- listening to music while you write can be helpful. i know it’s not for everyone, but listening to a playlist that matches the vibe of what im writing helps me lock in really well. here is a playlist for writing something fluffy and lovey. here is a playlist for writing something angst and made from pure sadness. here is a playlist for something obsessive and intense. here is a playlist for something that really makes you think about your life choices. (yes, i made all of these playlists, and these are the ones that i listen to)

- using the egoist bible to confirm information is immensely helpful. not only is anyone else who reads the egoist bible see those small Easter eggs, but adding those small hints about their character can also be cute and makes for better writing.

- use colored dividers. i get mine from this post (thank you to firefly graphics!!!), and make sure you use the colors in order with the characters. for example, i use teal for rin, dark blue for kaiser, and yellow for bachira.

- using song lyrics or song names as titles or inspiration is easy for ideas and for attention. many times, i will listen to a song and realize how much it matches with the blue lock boys or realize that it’ll make an incredible prompt for a drabble. for example, in no. 1 party anthem, there is the iconic “the look of love” part. for that, i made a post with the same title as the lyric and made it about how their eyes are when they are in love.

- putting 2-4 characters in a prompt drabble is the ideal amount. it gets you more popularity quicker due to more characters and more tags, but also, anyone who only started reading the prompt for a certain character can also enjoy reading about the rest of the characters.

- use as many tags as you can. if you look at the tags on my post, i use a monstrous amount.

- quality >>>>>>> quantity ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS. even a 100 word drabble can be more beautiful or impactful than a 1000 word fic if it’s worded better, has a better concept, has better character writing, and has better interactions.

- there are many tropes that work well with certain characters. for example, i always write kaiser with the childhood best friends trope, because not only does it match his character, but it also makes the best quality content. another example is karasu with academic rivals for obvious reasons, although im pretty sure we all already know that.

bonus facts!!!:

- i tend to have a hard time writing sae. he’s a difficult character to understand, which makes him all the more appealing to me but also just as annoying to write. because we have no idea what happened to him when he was in spain, he’s hard to write without being ooc or weird. before kaiser’s backstory, i also had a hard time writing for kaiser. (im an infp 4w5, if that helps)

- the only blue lock boys i can confidently say are green flags are barou, kunigami (pre-wildcard), yukimiya, and karasu. many of the others (isagi, reo, bachira, etc) are extremely close to being green flags but all have questionably toxic things that make them yellow flags.

- i wanna write for shidou so bad, but because the fandom mischaracterizes his so much, it’s hard to write for him validly without getting criticized. for example, shidou is NOT going to beat you up for no reason or be disturbing towards you for no reason. if you don’t play soccer or if you’re not particularly special, then he’s honestly just really chill. think of him like hisoka from hxh but less of a pdf file.

[shiki-jin]

sweet embrace

hawks x reader (angst -> comfort)

was feeling like shit so i wrote this rq,, also probably definitely not how you're supposed to take care of wounds but i wrote this in one sitting so o7

CWS: self harm, almost dying (but it's implied your quirk saves you), a lot of blood

when you're on your own, blood dripping down your arms, keigo gives you a call.

the phone rings beside you.

you barely have the energy to look over — keigo is calling you.

‘i should probably pick up.’

you reach out your arm, slowly, shakily, and press the little green ‘accept’ button.

“mind if i pay a visit?”

he speaks with a certain charm that makes the blood rise to your cheeks.

“go ahead.”

your voice is tired, he notes. makes sense, considering it's past midnight.

in the silence, he hears dripping.

“... you leave your sink on, birdie?”

you look at your arms, nodding like he can see you. “oh, i think so. i'll turn it off soon. 'm tired right now.”

“gotcha. i should be there in five to cuddle all that fatigue away.”

“..oh. can you, um, take a bit longer, maybe?”

“hm? why's that? you don't have to get anything ready or clean for me, ya know. just wait for me in bed, okay?”

you think for a second. “no, i still…” your vision blurs. you feel the cold of the tiled floor against your face. “ow.”

keigo's voice grows more concerned by the second. “you okay, sweetheart?”

you push yourself off the floor, your hands and arms weak and trembling. “i’ll be fine. just, like, go get takeout or something.”

he stays quiet, long enough to hear you messing with something… metal? no, it sounds like paper now. he keeps listening.

“ugh, this is annoying…” he hears you mumble, ripping something akin to —

fuck.

“i’ll be there soon, just— agh, hey, keep talking to me, okay?”

you tilt your head, but nod not a second later. “sure. uh, i'd prefer you get something small since i'm not super hungry, but i don't mind eating… ugh, um, eating the leftovers t-tomorrow.”

your vision keeps going in and out, and right when you're going to stand up to wash your hands, you slip. you could've probably hear the flapping of keigo's wings if you weren't so preoccupied.

it feels like your entire body is shaking now. you don't care that much. “okay, gimme like, s-some 10 extra minutes… it'll probably be,” you feel lightheaded. “it’ll be clean, by then. i think.”

he doesn't respond. you hear the front door click open, and you can't help but sigh. he's probably going to yell at you, or something. god, you couldn't even stick to one easy agreement. isn't that pathetic?

you try to push yourself off of the floor, but all the liquid you've been letting run down your wrists is making it difficult. you manage to sit on your knees, awaiting the scolding you'd get for being so stupid.

the moment the bathroom doors open, you close your eyes.

“shit, that's bad—”

his hands are taking yours before you can object, and he's using the same bandages you got out of the first-aid kit to wrap up your wrists. the material dyes red quickly, but at least it's somewhat stopped the bleeding. you can hear keigo cursing under his breath, and you feel a bit guilty.

“mmh, 's not that bad, look,” you lift up the unbandaged wrist and show it to him. “they're half-healed, already. i wasn't... wasn't trying to die.”

“don't— you're on the verge of passing out, that's pretty bad in my book!”

he takes the chance to wrap up that arm, too, and you're honestly surprised he hasn't started his lecture. you open your eyes ever so slightly, and you realize his chest is right in front of you. you lay down on it, your head on his shoulder, and relax.

“but i know. i know you weren't trying to die, i know. just with me, kay, [name]?”

he's obviously scared, he's speaking quickly, and you feel even worse. “...kay, i'll try.. 'm sorry.”

“it's okay, it's okay, i'm here with you. for you. just stay awake for a bit, that's all i'm asking, dove.”

your breath hitches, and you practically cry the words out. “just yell at me already. just get it over with, i get it, i'm pathetic — i can't keep to a single promise, so yell at me.”

your hands turn to fists, and keigo feels his shirt getting wet. he hugs you tightly, and you can't help but return the gesture. “i'm not going to yell at you, i'm not angry or mad, i understand. i get it, i really do. you're not pathetic, you don't deserve anger.”

raising your head you can see blood all over the floor and sink. you realize it's probably in your clothes by now — and keigos, too. you try to push yourself off him with the little strength you still have, but he keeps you close.

“...i still need to clean—” he shakes his head. “i'll take care of it, don't worry, just focus on me, birdie. just talk to me.”

you suppress the whine that wants to escape your throat. “...i, i tried. i really, really tried, i swear,” you inhale sharply, trying to calm down. “i—i tried really hard, b-but, i couldn't stop, a-and...!”

“i believe you, i promise, i believe you, baby. i know you tried your best, and i'm proud of you for it.” he pressed a gentle kiss against you. after a few moments of silence, he speaks calmly. “could you show me your wrists again, dove? 'wanna make sure you're not bleeding too much.”

you nod, and lift one of them up for him to hold. “...okay, that's good, seems like it's healed up. the other?” he presses another kiss to your hands. you lift up the other wrist, and he holds it just as gently as the first. “thank you, baby... they've both healed, for the most part, so do you want to lay down in bed?”

you think for a while. you're tired, exhausted, but if you go to bed...

“will you stay?”

he doesn't think about it.

“i will. i promise.”

you nod. “t-then, yeah, i wanna go to bed.”

he picks you up, holding you against him while he walks to your bed. he sets you down on it, and lays on the other side. “can you face me for a bit, songbird?”

you pull your legs just a bit closer to your chest, one of your arms holding your knees while the other rubs your tears away. you shake your head. “don't wanna.”

“that's okay. can i hold you, then?”

you nod, and he wraps an arm around your waist to pull you closer so that he's spooning you. his legs tangle with yours, and he presses soft kisses to your back, your neck, your scalp.

you're shaking less now, he thinks. he pulls the covers up so you can both be warm, and one of his wings instinctually covers your body. “is it okay if i make a suggestion? no need to answer right away, we can talk about it in the morning — or whenever you're ready.”

before the exhaustion completely takes over, you want to get an answer out. “go ahead.”

“thank you. i... when you get these types of urges, i'd like for you to call me. talk to me. if i can't talk you out of it, that's okay, just ask me to come over. i want to help you with this.”

you listen intently, his voice so soft and sweet it almost lulls you to sleep.

“okay. i'll... i'll call you, promise.”

he presses another kiss to your neck. “thank you for trusting me with that, dove. i'm proud of you.” you can tell he's about to fall asleep, too. “you should rest now, though. i'll be here when you wake up.”

the next time you're in the bathroom with a box cutter to your arms, he's the one to pick up the call.

[miss-tc-nova]

With Reckless Choices - Leona Kingscholar x Reader Pt 16

Okay okay okay, things are finally beginning to wind down now.

Premise: Doing anything possible to ease the guilt

Words: 2,334

Music Inspirations: Dear God - Avenged Sevenfold

~~~Repentance~~~

               I can see that smile, the word “good bye” fresh off those endearing lips like a stake through the chest. This is our last moment together; I’ll never have this love again. With the mysterious visitor goes my heart and I’ll be alone again.

               Please don’t leave. I love you.

               Glittering eyes, welling with water, spare one last fleeting glance before turning to the portal to another world. That’s where I focus—the realm beyond my own. But for all I try, I can only see the one leaving me behind.

               Desperately, I cling to that vision, grasping at threads. Pain surges through every nerve in my arm like electricity. In my hand sparks my magic, struggling to manifest the door to a place I’ve never known. Meanwhile, the darkness crawls between my fingers, bleeding across my hand not unlike the wound in my heart.

               “That’s enough.”

               Ignoring those words, I force more magic to my fingers, reaching farther than I ever have. I have to open this door.

               A grip on my arm spikes the pain, tearing me from the memory as my eyes snap open.

               The dragon is displeased, but more so, he appears concerned. “I said that’s enough.”

               Exhaustion brings me to the floor, encouraged by the agony that’s consumed my hand.

               “Are you alright?” Malleus asks, kneeling beside me. His gentle touch aggravates the infestation as he investigates the malady on my arm.

               “I’m okay,” I murmur, feeling the sweat drip down my back.

               “You went too far. It’ll be weeks before this heals.”

               “It’s fine. Just give me five minutes and we can try again.”

               His response is immediate. “No.”

               “Mall—”

               “We’re done for today.” His hand sneaks the crystal from the grasp of my unmarred hand.

               A knock draws the king’s attention where the door allows Silver inside.

               “My lord—oh. Is now a bad time?”

               “No. We’ve just finished.”

  ��            “Uh, okay. There’s a guest for you in the foyer.”

               His dark brows furrow. “Very well. Can you help here?”

               “Yes sir.”

               Malleus looks back down at me. “Go rest. No more magic today.”

               I sigh. “Fine.”

               His parting gesture is a gentle hand atop my head before he takes his leave. Silver, on the other hand, hurries forward.

               “Can you stand?”

               “Not very well. Sorry.”

               “That’s okay.”

               I’m not proud being unable to support my own weight, but I accept Silver’s assistance. He carefully helps me through the scattered collection of gems, no longer the beautiful, gleaming rainbow it had been. Each and every one had been overwhelmed with the same blight that I had been. I suppose Malleus had been right in that we were done for the day.

               On my insistence, Silver’s help ends at the door to my room. This leaves me to ruminate as I clean up.

               Though the memoric gem is no longer in my possession, its secrets are already mine. All the heartbreak and sorrow that Malleus felt in that moment the prefect left also belong to me now. While I don’t think it’s strong enough for the task at hand, it’s all too easy to empathize with that loss.

               On a superficial level, I’m finding it more difficult to hide the struggles as of late. I can’t just sit around, lest the grief creep up on me. However no amount of scrubbing will remove the ink stains on my skin. Time is going to force me into the company of my own thoughts, it seems.

               When I’m dry, dressed, and contemplating what to do now, I hear the second knock of the day.

               “Come in.”

               Silver is once again the messenger. “Our guest is waiting for you in the study.”

               My brows furrow. “For me? What happened to Malleus?”

               “It seems they’re done talking, but now your presence has been requested.”

               Well, I had no other plans for my time. “Very well.”

               Legs protest, forcing me to rely on Silver once or twice, but I inevitably reach my destination.

               “Would you like me join you?” my escort offers.

               I give him a glance. “They spoke with Malleus first?”

               “Yes.”

               “Then I should be fine. Thank you.”

               His head dips, but Silver allows me to enter the study on my own.

               Honestly, I shouldn’t be that surprised to see who’s waiting for me. I’m slightly surprised that he spoke to Malleus first, but I can’t think of anyone else who would come asking for me. Even so, I’m so very nervous. I don’t know what he wants; this could be our chance at mending things. It could also simply be our final goodbyes. Plus, there’s still always that chance he simply ends me. Anything could happen.

               “You’re a long way from home—” I bend at the waist, my clean hand extended in reverence. “—Prince Leona.”

               From his spot leaned against the window, the lion’s piercing gaze stares me down.

               “And you live here in the castle but still kept me waiting.”

               I straighten up, trying to ignore the screaming in my heart. “My apologies. I wasn’t expecting guests and had been indisposed when your request came. Silver delivered it as soon as he was able.”

               His chest rises with a huff. “Whatever.”

               Speaking past the lump building in my throat, my voice is surprisingly even. “What can I do for you, your highness?”

               He scoffs, strolling around the desk. “’Your highness.’ Look at you bein’ all proper. Just like that pathetic little mouse I found sulking on a ballroom balcony.”

               He’s not wrong. “Propriety is recommended when interacting with royalty such as yourself.”

               That doesn’t seem to be the response he was looking for. But as Leona opens his mouth to insult me again, his sight zeroes in on my hand. His grip reigniting the sting, Leona lifts the blot-infected hand. My instant reaction is to jerk away but proves futile.

               “What’s this?” Anger simmers in his demand.

               I choose my words carefully. “An unfortunate incident.”

               “Did he make you do this? Is he forcing you?”

               “No.” This time, he lets go when I pull back. “It was an experiment gone wrong but it’s fine.”

               “Bullshit it’s fine!”

               “Leona, I’m okay,” I insist.

               “Did he ever tell you what it’s like to overblot?! How every terrible memory replays in your head while the blot chokes you?! How much it hurts as the demon sucks the life right outta you?!”

               “It can’t hurt any more than this!”

               Fuck.

               Leona’s anger slips and, for the first time ever, he seems to feel sorry for me. That’s not what I wanted. I don’t deserve that, but I don’t know what else I’m supposed to do now.

               I glance to my blackened palm. “I…I know I put you through hell, so this misery is the least I deserve. But not everyone has to suffer for what I did. And I just want to help…someone, anyone, get out of this pit of despair I dug. So if it takes a little blot to make even the smallest amends, that’s what I’m going to do.” A deep breath suppresses the despair bubbling up. “In saying that, if there’s anything you need, all you have to do is to ask.”

               That pity gnaws at me and I wish he’d just stop.

               “So everything we did—you regret it?”

               For the first time in months, laughter rattles my chest, weak as it may be. “Only the times we were apart.”

               There’s silence, the acceptance of my consequences seeping into my bones. Whatever comes next, I’m ready.

               Except for what comes next.

               Fingers tilt my chin and the moment my head rises is the moment he takes me. Surprise hits my brain like brick wall though my body immediately conforms to his rhythm. I remember the taste of his desire, but its grown—filled out with something honest that I so desperately need. His grip clenches at my back, arms pulling me against him flush. It exposes the excitement of his heart, calling out for me.

               That familiar happiness washes over me, bringing tears to my eyes. I never thought I’d feel this love again.

               Cautiously, hesitantly, Leona lets the kiss break. His breath comes forcefully slow as if he expects me to just vanish.

               “You wanna make amends?” This time, far softer, he raises my stricken hand. “Don’t do this. I don’t care what it is or what he wants. Don’t.”

               I soak in his request. “I can’t just give up.”

               “Then find another way.” Gently, his forehead lays against mine. “This is the last way you’ll want to do anything. Trust me.”

               There’s no argument I can bring myself to raise. “Okay.”

               Relief visible, Leona buries his face in my shoulder. That’s when it occurs to me.

               “Why did you come here?”

               His body goes rigid in my arms.

               “Leona?”

               Straightening up, the lion peers down. He wears the same look he wore on my wedding day: an uncertain anxiety. His gaze averts and those ears lie flat in his mane.

               “All this fucked up shit happened because of me and my grudge. I blamed you, but it was my own fault. And I’m sorry. That doesn’t change what happened though—I love you.” It’s surprising to see that his courage doesn’t come so easy, his breath shuddering. “But none of that can’t happen again. If you choose to stay with him, that’s it. I’ll leave now and we’ll never see each other again.”

               I want so badly to say something, but more than that, I want to know where this is going.

               “So I came to give you a choice.”

               From his pocket, Leona produces a black box that he places in my hands. Pounding in my chest, it feels like my heart is trying to escape with my imagination. Trembling fingers carefully pry the hinges back to prove that it’s not fiction. Nestled in the velvet is a black band striped with two golden rings. Between the gold is a stripe of black stone and gold leaf. It’s the simplicity that makes it beautiful but what it means is far more important.

               His warm palms cup my hands beneath the box. Softer than ever before, Leona nearly begs me.

               “Marry me. Let’s get out of here. We can start planning now or we can run away. I don’t care what we do, I just—”

               My brain is still stuck on the first two words. “Yes.”

               At first there’s disbelief—as if he expected much more resistance. Then it cracks. It’s been so long since I’ve seen that smile, but my heart skips and immediately, I break into a teary smile. Leona’s arms take me in, enveloping me in the love I could never forget. Meanwhile, his face brushes past mine, greedy for all the contact he’s been neglected. That quickly devolves into another kiss and then a few more. Only his hasty thoughts have the power to break through his excitement now.

               “I need to call Ruggie. We’ll need to find you a lawyer to divorce that stupid lizard and get you moved to Sunrise City. I—”

               “Leona.”

               My interruption surprisingly causes him to pause.

               “We’re already divorced.”

               He blinks once. Twice. “What?”

               “Malleus and I had a talk and we realized that we weren’t really compatible. Actually, we were both miserable, so we agreed to an amicable divorce. We’re just waiting to announce it.”

               The gears behind his eyes turn, building tension that rises in his shoulders.

               “I threatened that lizard for nothing.”

               “WHAT?!”

               “That’s why he was laughing! That bastard!”

               I wave my hands frantically. “Wait! You threatened Malleus!”

               “Well yeah! I mean, after I said sorry, I told him what I was gonna do and he’d have to live with the choice! Then that bastard laughed at me and wished me luck!”

               “And you didn’t take that as a sign?!”

               “I took it as a challenge! How was I supposed to know you were already divorced?!”

               A hand meets my forehead. “For Seven’s sake.”

               From behind my palm, a laugh escapes me.

               “Great. Now you’re laughing. I’m leaving.”

               “No!” I snag his hand as he tries to leave. “No no, I’m just…I’m delighted to know you would threaten a centuries-old fae for me.”

               “Nope. Not helping.”

               I have to pull against him. “Okay okay! I’m sorry. You’re the most amazing person in the world.” He glares down at me with skepticism. “You’re clever and strong and gorgeous. I’m head over heels for you and so exceptionally lucky that you’re giving me a second chance.”

               “Alright, now you’re layin’ it on a little thick.”

               “And yet I mean every word. Shall I go on?”

               Though his eyes roll, I notice a tint of pink to his nose. “Maybe later. So are you allowed to start wearing that? Or is it gonna get you and the lizard king in trouble?”

               I close the velvet box in my hand. “I’ll speak with Malleus and our advisor about publicly disclosing our separation. Until then, it’s probably best not to stir up trouble.”

               “Fine. How long have you been divorced?”

               “A least a few months now.”

               “And you didn’t say anything?”

               I shrug. “We were advised not to say anything yet and I didn’t get a chance. Besides, I doubt it would’ve made any difference at the time. After that, Malleus and I decided not to make any announcements until we worked out a few things. There was no use creating drama for futures we couldn’t guarantee.”

               “What do you mean?”

               I wiggle my achy fingers. “I’ll tell you about it later.” My face presses into his chest, knowing that this is exactly where I’m meant to be. A familiar lump in my throat threatens to break my voice. “For now, this is all I want. I missed you so much.”

               His sigh is a mockery of the most burdened, inconvenienced man in the world. But his arms find their way around me in turn. I truly am lucky.

               “I missed you too.”

~~~~~

Part 17 (Coming Soon)

Nova’s Twisted Wonderland Masterlist

[will80sbyers]

I kept getting nervous about how the GA would react to a byler endgame. Would they see it coming or would they think it’s out of nowhere or would they grow to root for it and I recently realized after looking at some comments that people mostly just want an answer that makes more sense than the one they are currently getting.

People just want something they can fully believe in without any questions. They are TOLD that Mike loves/wants El but they don’t see it and they’re getting tired of it or some people still find them cute together they just want Mike to fix his bad behavior so El isn’t upset. I think that a Byler endgame would show to those people that yes Mike can be lovely and attentive and romantic and be a good boyfriend—just not with El. Once people see that emotion and love from Mike, that they so desperately needed to see from him when he was with El, directed towards Will I think it will just click in their heads like, “OH! That’s why he was acting weird and defensive”. Once they see that El isn’t hurting without Mike and that she doesn’t blame him and that they do love each other just not in that way I think people will feel satisfied with the outcome or at least be like “Damn, I did not see that coming but it makes so much sense now that I see it”. I feel like Mike and Will are going to be so undeniably in love that even if people are on the fence about it they will still be more on board with it than M*elven because they will finally be able to see that love and desire they needed to see to believe in a relationship. They’ll be able to see how natural and genuine they are and that they just fit so well together as a couple. I feel like it’ll almost feel like an obvious progression to some people like they were always supposed to end up together because Mike’s feelings for Will aren’t brand new they are constant and are consistently getting stronger and stronger every season. Their relationship only feels weird or off when they hold back on those feelings out of obvious fear. Once Mike makes his feelings more outwardly known to the audience and they can finally be more open and honest with each other I think I’ll just feel like the right path for their characters. The only path that truly makes sense. Hopefully people will finally be able to sympathize with Mike and understand how much he was struggling and grow to love him again. I can definitely see the GA rooting for them throughout s5 in a —I-saw-absolutely-nothing-to-suggest-a-Mike-and-Will-pairing-from-prior-seasons-but-I’m-so-down-for-this-because-Mike-actually-seems-in-love-this-time-and-like-himself-again-and-Will-is-finally-happy—kind of way. Hopefully we get a good Mike and El friendship scene so people can see that they do need/love each other that it just got too complicated when they tried to make their platonic feelings romantic.

Then people can go back and watch the series again to find all of the clues and see that Mike’s focus has always been Will. Obviously everything will be easier to catch watching it all over again because they have the answers now. They’ll be able to compare Mike with El vs Mike with Will and see how it really was right under their noses the whole time.

Yeah, the only ones mad about it are gonna be melvins and homophobic people, I don't think Mike knows what he feels or that he was exactly conscious about it, I think he always felt weird/different about Will but didn't get it yet... and I don't think Mike has lied about anything, I think he had a crush on El when he was little and whatever "wrong" he did is mainly because he's 14... but I also think they have been building up to Byler since s1 through their friendship, it's easy to write it in the show as endgame because they have a solid base and Will is already in love with Mike! ❤️

[acracana]

//twst book 7 ch.12 spoilers

My Word Vomit on Ch. 12

I had a feeling with how they kept bringing up how much Silver has been using his um (over 20 times now) in the last chapter that there would be some type of repercussion for him. After this chapter, I’m 99.9% sure that they’re building up to it.

Idk what the repercussions would be, though. Maybe he just won’t be able to use his um for a while and his magic is depleted (though Ace’s um might solve the dream hopping part if that’s 's the case). There’s a chance he overblots ig but I doubt that’s the route the game takes. Silver reawakens his curse and falls into a deep sleep again? Weird turn but sure, I could see it happening under the right writing.

we also still don’t have Silver ssr card for book 7 (malleus and silver better be getting cards). I feel like we’ll be wrapping up book 7 soon. Hopefully, it’ll be less than like 50 more chapters. It’ll be interesting to see how they incorporate “knight of dreams” and “king of the abyss” for them. I sorta want to see them clash as a parallel to their parents, but I also think they should also just hug it out and talk about their feelings about Lilia leaving them. In the end, I feel like Silver understands Malleus’s feelings the most because they are losing the same person.

Ace’s discovery of his UM was so well executed. He’s having his character development guys 🥹. I didn’t think it would happen this quickly after his dream though—I thought we’d get a couple of more chapters without it. It’s very op, but I wonder if he needs to have a similar magic pool for him to completely use the other person’s UM. If not, then there’s the trump card for defeating Malleus but I really hope it’s not that easy.

I have a feeling that now that Ace has his um, it’ll play a big part in the fight against Malleus—whether he uses it for Malleus’s magic, Silver’s magic, or even someone else’s, but I hope that, in the end, the main conflict is between and resolved with the diasomnia members. For a book whose main themes revolves around them, family, and their lack of communication, the message has kinda been pushed to the back burner as they hopped between other characters’ dreams.

ALTHOUGH, I think Riddle’s Dream is good to tie back the book’s theme of family (maybe even its theme of forgiveness, but idk). Riddle obviously cares for his parents, and I don’t doubt that he still loves his mother despite everything. I feel like the fandom treats Mrs. Rosehearts as a one-dimensional villain (she’s a horrible mother, don’t get me wrong), but she acts as she does because she genuinely thinks that is what is good for her son and his future. But she ignores/dismisses her son’s attempts to communicate his wants/needs to her, which I feel is the main issue. I could draw some parallels between her and Lilia’s parenting methods, but I’ll open that can of worms on another day.

Ok, rant done. This chapter was so good, and the cliff-hanger is also *chef’s kiss*. I’m so excited for the book to be coming to and end soon. I still hope they go to crowley’s dream just because it would be funny (lore drop pls).

[blushweddinggowns]

“Eddie? Did you hear me?”

Eddie blinked, the sound of Steve’s voice shaking him out of his thoughts. He hadn’t heard a word, too busy obsessing to actually focus on what the fuck was happening in real life. He rubbed the back of his neck, sheepish at the call out,  “Sorry, can you repeat that?”

Steve sighed, turning away from the bathroom mirror to pinch his cheek, “I’ll have to punish you for that one later.”

Eddie grinned, swinging his legs from his perch on the bathroom counter. He’d learned quickly that Steve’s definition of punishment equated to Eddie’s definition of a good night. But one that he was going to have to wait for. 

“You can’t say shit like that when you’re about to leave,” Eddie whined, kicking Steve lightly in the leg, “It’s cruel.”

Steve sighed, letting him go to go back to his routine, “You’re right, you’re right. Not to mention I’m going to be back late.”

Eddie had never made him late to work but he did interrupt Steve's usual timeline. It was too easy for them to distract each other. Before they knew it, he’d lose enough time for him to have to do his stage makeup at home. Eddie's penance for the crime was to entertain him while he did it. 

He sure wasn’t complaining. 

“It’s a private party,” Steve said, turning to the mirror. Eye liner pen in hand, “A bachelorette. No one goes more wild than drunk straight women, I swear to God.”

“How late?” Eddie asked.

“Last one, we didn’t get them out of there till 3:30. No more alcohol did not effect their flow,” Steve said, blinking at the small, black wing he just made. He glanced at Eddie for approval, humming happily when he gave him a thumbs up. 

“So I’ll probably be back by four,” Steve went on, moving to the next eye, “The owner is real big on keeping people who pay thousands to rent the place out happy. Go figure.”

“Want me to stay up for you?”

“Of course,” Steve laughed, finally satisfied with what he saw in the mirror, “But I won’t make you. Not tonight. You can just make it up to me later.”

That was a relief. As much as Eddie wanted to wait for him, he wasn’t sure if he had four a.m. in him. 

“I’ll miss you,” Eddie offered up instead.

“I’ll miss you more,” Steve sighed back, turning to face him, “Now kiss me before I do the lips.”

Eddie listened, the kiss itself more temptation to force himself to stay awake. He spent the night quietly at home, productive while he watched the clock. He called Wayne, talked to him for a few hours. Sketched out a few designs. Vacuumed. Watched a bad movie. But alas, at around one a.m. he had to throw in the towel. 

It was a minor success. He got a few hours in before the loud creak of their shitty door ruined his light sleep. He squinted into the dark, groaning quietly when he saw the time. It was late. Late enough to be early, four thirty a.m. Eddie stretched, patient enough to not try to go back to sleep. He was hoping Steve would come in here soon, something that happened more often than not when he worked late. He only avoided him when he was too tired to shower, a habit that Eddie was trying to subtly talk him out of. 

But instead of the sound of Steve’s footsteps coming down the hall, he heard his voice, “No, no. He’s asleep.”

Eddie paused his stretching, curious.

“I think it’ll be fine if I keep quiet,” Steve said followed by the creak of their couch, “I’m in the living room anyway.”

Eddie sighed, too understanding to be annoyed. It wasn’t Steve’s fault. He had been sleeping better since whatever this was started between them. Good enough for the shower to not even be enough to wake him anymore. Who would have thought that regularly scheduled orgasms could be the cure for insomnia? It just so happened that the effect was lessened when Steve wasn't in the bed with him.

“Shut up!” Steve laughed, loud and clear despite the walls between them.

Eddie got out of bed, deciding to fake a bathroom trip so Steve knew that he had an audience. Even if he was slightly tempted to listen in, his natural inclination to be a nosey bitch poking it’s head out. 

“He’s adorable,” Steve sighed, his voice dropping. Barely audible through his door, “I’m obsessed.”

Eddie’s hand paused on the doorknob. He could hear Steve getting comfortable on the couch, the leather creaking under him. He saw him in his minds eye, laid back, his legs hanging over one of the arms. 

“It’s perfect,” Steve said happily, “His mouth is insane, dude. It’s so pretty.”

It was time to give up the act of proprietary. Eddie pressed his ear against the door, officially eavesdropping. 

“Obviously, I did,” Steve laughed, “It was the first thing we did and it looked obscene. I don’t even think he gets how hot he is?”

Eddie’s eyes widened. He couldn’t- was he actually saying what it sounded like?

“Oh yeah,” Steve said easily, “That too. But I don't think he's lying about it. He's too shy. He just has a perfect dick and is a perfect sweetheart. All at the same time. Of course, it's good! Amazing actually.”

His face was burning, a mix of flattered and incredibly embarrassed. Steve had warned him that he told Robin everything but God. He went pretty damn far with it. He didn’t expect Steve to be so graphic. 

“He’s my boyfriend,” Steve said suddenly, his tone shifting, “What the hell is that supposed to mean? Wouldn't I know more than you?”

Eddie’s heart skipped a beat.

from the next chapter of this fic

[emphasisonthehomo]

More Popstar!Au

For context, this takes place right before the first actual concert Buck and Tommy perform together.

Here's Buck in peak drama queen mode.

•

“Tommy Kinard, is that you?”

As Buck turns, a rail thin man with a long beard starts waving his arms like a windmill.

“Oh fuck,” Tommy grumbles under his breath, before saying louder “Artem! Good to see you man, I didn’t know you worked here now.”

Artem comes jogging over, dressed all in black with STAFF in bold letters across his chest.

“Yeah, for a couple years,” Artem says, holding Tommy by his shoulders and shaking him a bit, “Damn dude, tech death doesn’t pay shit if you’re doing this too.”

Buck bristles, and Tommy starts laughing awkwardly.

“I’m here as a favor,” Tommy says, “Last minute thing.”

“Oh really? Cool. Doing sound again? You’re late as fuck if that’s the case,” Artem speaks a mile a minute, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Buck and Eddie are both staring at him.

“No. I’m drumming,” Tommy says, easy as anything.

“For Buckley?” Artem looks cartoonishly shocked.

Honestly? Buck can relate to that. Part of him still can’t believe it. 

“Uh…” Tommy’s eyes are very wide, and they look shockingly blue under the florescent lighting as he glances at Buck. Buck just raises his eyebrows in return. Eddie looks like he can’t decide if he wants to laugh or not.

“As I Lay Dying always needs a new drummer, you don’t have to resort to that,” Artem continues, before laughing hysterically.

“I would genuinely rather choke,” Tommy says, “I gotta go dude. See you around.”

“Cool man,” Artem pats him on the shoulder, “Bye!”

Just as suddenly as he appeared, Artem is jogging off in another direction.

“Sorry about that,” Tommy mumbles, “He’s uh. He’s nice enough, but he’s… a lot.”

“Can he not see?" Eddie sounds bewildered.

“He used to do a lot of mushrooms,” Tommy explains, before speaking to Buck directly “Also I don’t think he knows what you look like.”

“My face is on a 50-foot screen in front of the building,” Buck feels obligated to point out.

“I don’t know,” Tommy says defensively, “I once saw Artem eat a live grasshopper for a McDouble, and that was back when those were only like a dollar. He’s not exactly the brightest crayon in the box.”

“What does he do?” Buck asks, anxiety starting to claw at him, “It’s not stage effects or anything right?”

“Oh no,” Tommy shakes his head immediately, “I don’t know what he does here, but when I’ve worked with him, he’s always done merch.”

“It’ll be fine,” Eddie says confidently, “I don’t think MSG hires people that can ruin shows.”

“I’m going to throw up,” Buck says bluntly.

“C’mon,” Eddie rolls his eyes and grabs at Buck’s hand and starts dragging him further down the hallway, “You need to chill out.”

“I’m going to. Throw. Up.” Buck repeats, but he lets Eddie pull him into the greenroom.

“For real?” Eddie asks, pushing the door open “Or are you being dramatic?”

“I’ll let you know if it’s ever for real,” Buck says sourly, throwing himself onto one of the couches.

Unmoved by Buck’s distress, Eddie just grabs the trashcan in the corner and places it delicately next to Buck’s knee. Buck scowls at him. It’s frustrating, but more than that it’s stupid. Buck knows he’s being difficult, but that doesn’t stop him from doing so.

“I’m going to go grab food,” Eddie says, putting his hands on his hips, “Hey? Tommy?”

“Yeah?” Tommy says, wandering into the greenroom behind them.

“Can you make sure Buck doesn’t leave this room?” Eddie says, placing a hand seriously on the top of Tommy’s shoulder.

“And how exactly am I supposed to do that?” Tommy says, looking amused, “He’s a grown man.”

“Put him in a headlock if you have to,” Eddie continues, “He’s ticklish.” 

“Oh, fuck off,” Buck bristles.

“Ticklish,” Tommy repeats with a sharp nod, “Got it. And what happens when he fires me?”

“He can’t fire you,” Eddie snorts, “Bobby signs your checks.”

“I sign Bobby’s checks,” Buck says mulishly, crossing his arms and sinking low against the couch cushions, “I’m going to fire you.”

“No, you won’t,” Eddie says easily, before turning to Tommy, “You want anything?”

“I’m good,” Tommy says with a shrug, sitting down on the couch opposite Buck, “I’ll get something later. I gotta go find out where my practice pad is.”

“I’ll ask Bobby if I see him,” Eddie says, already halfway out the door.

“I wanna beer!” Buck calls after him.

Eddie flips him off without looking back, and vanishes down the hallway.

“It’s a bit early for a beer,” Tommy says mildly.

Buck doesn’t bother dignifying that with a response. He makes a point of laying down on the couch and turning his back to Tommy.

“Okay,” Tommy mumbles under his breath, “You’re the boss, you sign Bobby’s checks, you can have a beer at noon.”

Buck doesn’t respond to that either. He’s so tired his eyes hurt. He feels sick to his stomach, and the show is still hours away. He forces himself to breathe slowly and tries to relax against the cushions. There’s movement behind him. Tommy says thank you to someone, and a few minutes later the muted and rhythmic clatter of drum sticks on a practice pad starts up.

It’s a sound Buck’s used to. Lucy uses one as well, though she prefers to limit her warmup to right before going on stage. Tommy isn’t Lucy, a fact that Buck is well aware of, and honestly still irritated by. The noise is comforting in its familiarity all the same.

-tatatata-tatata-tatatata-tata-

He’s a little cold, he should have thought to grab a jacket.

-tatatata-tatata-tatatata-tata-

Buck shifts on the couch and closes his eyes.

-tatatata-tatata-tat-

Buck wakes with a jerk. His face is mashed against the arm of the couch, and there’s a wet smear on his cheek that lets him know he’s been drooling. Gross.

“Wassit?” He grumbles, sitting up and rubbing at his face. A thick black piece of clothing flops down off of his shoulders, and he blinks down at it in confusion.

“Oh, sorry I woke you.”

Buck twists around to see Chimney gingerly closing the door behind him.

“‘m good,” Buck says, “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

He picks up the clothing, turning the fabric over in his hands, and realizes it’s a hoodie. Tommy’s hoodie. It’s soft and well worn, the white screen printing of Tommy's band's insane logo cracked in some places.

Tommy, on the other hand, is nowhere to be seen.

[c0exiist]

Gasping at Akash’s response, Catriona did her best to suppress her smile, but broke out into fits of giggles as she shook her head and said, “That’s already a given. You could have just said I’m beauty and brains with a sprinkle of amazing, you know?” However, she paused as she went back to being serious and added, “You’re self-aware Akash, probably too much for your own good, but it’s not a bad thing…What would be bad is if you don’t follow through or take accountability.” She then nodded in understanding, when he admitted that staying down was the root of his fear. It gave her insight on his vulnerabilities and as valid as they were, it was evidently something he needed to work on. “We all have those moments of feeling down and out…” Her voice trailed off as she was trying to find the right words. “But I believe in you.” she admitted with a gentle smile. “It’ll take time and acceptance, but the way I see it…If you have at least someone on your corner rooting for you and you haven’t given up completely, then you’re a winner already. Like I said, you should be giving yourself grace, what you do isn’t easy, nor for the faint of heart.”

Catriona nodded once more when Akash confirmed that he’ll think about her offer. “Fine by me. The offers are always on the table.” She then tapped her chin and expressed amusement at the thought of being on point with her intuition. “Tempting, but not my cup of tea. You’re better suited in the field than I am. I feel like my emotions would get in the way of my judgement.” Rolling her eyes, she then waved him off and mockingly said, “'Thank you so much, you're the best Catriona!!'…'Oh, you’re sooo welcome Akash'...Amazing, now moving forward you’ll remember to eat.” Tilting her head, she then narrowed her gaze and added, “Unless you find joy in these surprise check-ins, then I definitely need to step up my psychic game for the next one.” The ex-equestrian valued her relationships from the get-go, so it wouldn't be a surprise if she happened to do this act of kindness again.

Akash huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he leaned back slightly. “It tells me that you’re determined to collect credit where it’s due,” he said dryly, though there was a flicker of amusement in his expression. But she wasn’t wrong—he had a habit of circling around self-awareness without always following through. He could acknowledge the things that needed to change, but taking that next step? That was harder. “I hear you,” he admitted after a pause. “It’s just—falling doesn’t scare me. Staying down does.” It was something he’d been reckoning with for a while now. The burnout, the weight of his work, the way he kept himself in a cycle of late nights and early mornings like stopping would somehow make everything unravel. He wasn’t naive—he knew he was running on fumes, and still, the idea of slowing down felt more like losing control than finding balance.

Her suggestion about working at the clinic or the stables made his brow lift slightly, not in outright rejection but in consideration. It wasn’t the worst idea. It was different, at least. The last time he’d been around horses was in college, when a friend had dragged him out to an upstate retreat for the weekend. He remembered liking them well enough, their steady presence, their unspoken trust. Maybe that was the appeal. Something outside himself, outside of work, that didn’t demand justification. “I’ll think about it,” he said finally, though this time it wasn’t a dismissal. “No promises, but I’ll let you know.”

At her joke about being psychic, he smirked, shaking his head. “I’ll give you that one. But if you start predicting my closing arguments in court, I’m going to be concerned.” His gaze flicked to the food, then back to her. “And yeah, it’s good. So, guess you’re right again.” He exhaled, something lighter settling in his chest. “Not that I’ll ever hear the end of it.” The relationship he shared with Catriona was one he valued quite a bit because not only did she give it to him straight but it felt comfortable to be open and honest with her.

[freewayshark]

I know the Buck of today is a far cry from season 1 Buck but I did just think about him channeling that version of himself and physically squaring up with Gerrard the way he did Athena in the pilot and. I need that to happen now

[butchrindou]

need to draw baji and rindou as bffs tbhhh i feel like they’d get along but it would take a while also literally because i have some music baji would listen to in my rindou playlists but who said that.. must’ve been the wind