#its like 997 words

[sepulchralblues]

@jilymicrofics A My Lady Jane AU for Jily in august - elegant, bride, knight, royalty, soulmate

“I didn’t ask to be his bride, Petunia.” Lily wanted to tear her hair out its elegant crown-braid, half out of frustration, half to piss her sister off further. “Just because I’m going through with this doesn’t mean I want to be stuck in a loveless marriage with some doddering old fool I’ve never even met before.”

She stood before a large mirror, edges gilded a brown that once used to be gold, in a floor length wedding dress. If she held any care for the day itself, she’d notice the gown was rather stunning, a similar fashion to the royal wedding gown from last season. Instead, she was spending the morning of her wedding like any other day growing up with her darling dear sister – arguing.

“You could at least try to appreciate the effort Vernon’s parents put into securing this match for you,” Petunia returned with venom. “You’re nearly five and twenty summers old, Lily. You’re practically a spinster. After Mother died last year, you weren’t able to secure any prospects for yourself. Without Vernon stepping in, who knows what state you'd be in a year’s time from now.”

Anywhere but here sounded absolutely lovely to Lily at the moment, but she refrained from antagonizing Petunia anymore.

Lily sighed and turned away from the mirror. She waved off the handmaiden who stepped out of the shadows to help her down from the platform the tailor had her stand on for the final fitting of the gown. 

Stepping closer to her sister, Lily said softly, “Understand that I am only doing this for the sake of my inheritance. If this stupid clause had not been in the will, I would have taken the money and left for Paris the minute I could get my hands on it.”

Petunia smirked. “Would you have waited for a knight in shining armor to come along before you got married then? Someone who was, perhaps, your soulmate?”

Some childish part of Lily was stung, hearing the dreams she’d once whispered to Petunia under the covers of darkness in their childhood bedroom thrown back in her face so mockingly.

But her sister was not wrong. As stupid as it sounded, Lily had spent her entire life dreaming of a love that felt like an adventure, rather than one built and bred in the stuffy castles and manors they had grown up in. It was the dream that Paris had held, and the hope that had shattered the day their parents will was announced in full.

Neither child would gain access to their portion of the (significantly large) inheritance until after they were married. And they had to be married before the age of twenty-five.

Hence the stalemate the Lily found herself locked in – a marriage to one James Potter in return for her inheritance. She’d wait the minimum period out, call for a divorce, and finally – finally – leave this place for good.

The double doors at the far end of the room burst open before she could reply. It was the Butler.

“My ladies,” he bowed deep, “it is time. The ceremony will begin shortly, and your presence in required in the garden.”

“Well then,” Petunia said. “Off we go, before you change your mind and embarrass our family again.”

Clenching her jaw, Lily followed Petunia out of the room.

–

James ran a finger along his collar in an attempt to find respite from the sweltering heat of the garden. He failed remarkably, but it was yet to be seen whether it was really the summer heat or the prospect of what was to come that was making him sweat.

Sirius Black, his best man and best mate, heard his annoyed huff and chuckled. “Heat of the moment getting to you, Prongsie?”

James ignored the taunt and focused on straightening his cuff links.

While he’d always known the day was coming, he hadn’t quite let himself wonder what it would be like. He’s never been one for stage fright, but they don’t really prepare you to stand in front of a crowd of two hundred-odd nobles and minor royalty to say the most damning two words of your life.

And damning they were, because whoever this Lily Evans was, he doubted she was any match for the girl he’d been eyeing up at the pub last night when out celebrating the last of his bachelorhood with his mates. Or the girl from the week before, her raven hair spread like ink on his bedspread, her moans like ecstasy in his ears. Or even–

The band began its tune, and the guests shuffled to their feet. He shared a final glance with Sirius. It was time.

First came the sister (he thought it was the sister at least), in a gown of deep scarlet with her arm looped around Vernon’s.

Sirius coughed something that sounded like that slug beside him, and James could only agree.

It was when he saw the white gown brushing the navy carpet that James looked at his parents. His mother met his gaze, a grave look on her face.

They couldn’t screw this up, she was trying to say. This was the last chance they had to fix things, their last attempt to root the problem out before it came back to destroy his entire family.

Sirius inhaled sharply, causing James to finally look at his bride for the first time.

Except he’d seen her before. Nine hours before, to be precise, in a badly lit pub, with a glass of ale in his hands and the golden daze of drink highlighting the arch of her eyebrows, her delicate collarbones.

Lily Evans was, in fact, the very girl he’d been flirting with last night.

Judging by the shock that stole across her face and the slightest pause in her steps, his identity was news to her too.

Suddenly everything that had seemed too daunting and painful about this marriage didn’t seem as bleak.

–

Oh, thought Lily. Oh, fuck.

[cottonlemonade]

Hello, may I please get a ramune and soke dorayaki from menu B for tendou

Please, and thank you

🫱💴

Here, meney

How You Met

word count: 997 || avg. reading time: 4 mins.

pairing: rival!Tendou x chubby!Reader (feat. Semi and Ushijima as wingmen)

genre: fluff, rivals to lovers

warnings: mentions of having a nosebleed?

request: fluffy, detention with rival Tendou, as manager

Tendou loved riling people up. To him, volleyball was as much about psychological warfare as it was about physical abilities and he particularly enjoyed testing out a new person’s limits. So when the local university’s volleyball team announced that they brought their newly appointed manager, he was delighted to have a fresh study subject. Did he think you were cute? Absolutely. Being quite a bit shorter than him, as well as plump and squishy looking, he immediately focused his attention on you and tested how much teasing it would take to get you to snap at him. He was a simple boy that way. What he didn’t expect, however, was a bloody nose and being shoved into an empty classroom with you.

“You can’t just give me detention! He started it! And I don’t even go to this school!”, you called through the closed door but no one answered.

“Yeah, old Washijo has quite the trigger finger.”, Tendou shrugged, slumping on his chair and leaning his head back to stop the bleeding.

“You pack quite the punch, little plum.”

“Don’t call me that unless you want me to have another go at that nose.”, you grumbled, slumping down on a chair two desks away from him. He just laughed and sighed. It really hadn’t taken long for him to be completely in love.

“So, is that guy your boyfriend?”

“Huh?”

“That guy I talked about that made you sucker punch me.”

“That was hardly a sucker punch.”

Tendou tensed a little that you avoided the question but he kept poking further.

“Then… That big beefy guy with the babyface - you aren’t together?”

You looked at him, arms crossed.

“No. We’re friends. - And I’m protective of my friends.”

“Yeah I could tell.” He stretched his face and removed the whatted up piece of tissue from his nose, tipping back his chair on its hind legs.

It seemed you were quite hellbent on ignoring him until the 30 minute timeout was over. Meanwhile, the red haired boy studied you openly, finding more things he liked about you with every minute. Like the way you scrunched your nose in annoyance when you noticed him staring.

“What?”, you barked.

“Nothing. Ever considered dating someone younger than you? I’m perfectly legal, organic and grass-fed.”

“Organic and grass-fed…? Do you want me to eat you?”, you frowned confused.

“We can start with a normal date and see where the night takes us.”, he said with a wink.

After that you pretended he was air until the captain of the varsity team came to collect you.

“Uuuuugh!”, Tendou repeatedly bonked his head against the table at lunch the next day. His friends regarded him with questioning looks.

“Grass-fed! What was I thinking?”, he lamented with a muffled voice.

“Yeah, what were you thinking?”, Semi asked with a raised brow.

“I don’t know! My brain just… stopped working. I couldn’t control what I was saying.” The middle blocker turned his head to the side, looking up at his friends, cheek still smooshed against the table.

“So, you can’t flirt. You’ll get better and the next girl might not even punch you.”, Semi said encouragingly but Tendou pouted.

“But I don’t want another girl. I want this one.”, he sat up, eying Semi who just lifted a spoonful of soup to his mouth but stopped.

“What?”

“How do you get girls to go out with you, Semi-Semi? You dress horribly and it really can’t be your personality.”

Semi ignored the slight and just raised a hand to gesture at his face.

“Does it all for me.”

“Ugh.” Tendou dropped back onto the table.

“May I make a suggestion?”, Ushijima offered, setting down his water bottle.

“Sure.”

“Like with many things in life you could draw inspiration from nature. So I suggest, you do it like animals.”

Goshiki choked on a piece of tofu and Semi let out a scandalized, “Ushijima-san!”, patting the first-year next to him on his back.

Tendou straightened again and raised a hand, “Wait, let’s hear the man out. - Proceed.”

“A lot of animals bring gifts to their potential mates such as rocks or even food as courtship. You don’t have to bring her rocks unless she finds them fascinating but food seems like a reasonable start.”

“See, it was nothing weird. Dirty mind, you!”, Tendou teased and Semi put a hand to his chin in thought.

“As crazy as he sounds, that is actually a good idea.”, the setter agreed.

One week later when the varsity team came for another training match, Tendou waited for you by the entrance of the gym, rolling back and forth on his heels in nervousness.

You scowled when you saw him.

“Can I talk to you for a moment, y/n-chan?”

“I don’t remember ever offering you to drop formalities.”

“Alright, little plum-san. Do you have a minute?”

You sighed and nodded to the captain who led the team into the gym, leaving you behind.

After taking a deep breath he brought his hands out in front of him and presented you with a box of chocolates.

“They’re not poisoned.”, he said.

“Well that’s reassuring.”, you carefully took the box into your hand and opened the lid.

They looked a bit crooked like they had been a factory mishap.

“I made them.”, Tendou added and your eyes widened. Okay, so far so good. He just had to stick to the script he and his friends came up with.

“I’m sorry for last week. I’ll make sure not to annoy your players verbally anymore. Or insinuate that one of them looks like a third grader in the body of an accountant. But… I really did mean it when I asked you out. I think you’re really pretty and”, he chuckled and brushed the tip of his nose, “really strong.”

You considered him for a moment, then looked down at the chocolates again. It must have taken him hours to make those.

“Fine. One coffee.”

a/n: the way you wrote your request made me laugh xD thank you so much! I hope you liked it - this one got a bit wild 🫠

[blackelysian]

Where your man at?

Kofi Siriboe x Black! Fem! Reader

Word Count: 997

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, Talks of infidelity, unprotected sex, cursing, roleplay

A/N: Its kinda short I knowww this is just a random story idea I had! Hope you enjoy!

Taglist: @notapradagurl7 @livebythelovediebythelove @catxo @flydotty @henneseyhoe @novaniskye

Kofi sat back and watched as the brown skin goddess conversed with other people at the bar. She was fine as hell sporting a long black, form fitting slightly mesh dress. You could see the silhouette of her naked body underneath but not too much. He bites his lip at the sight of her. He continued to watch as she casually sipped on a lemon drop not even noticing me. The chocolate man downs the rest of his drink and makes his way over to the beauty. She was so engulfed in her conversation she hadn’t even seen him walk up. 

“Excuse me, beautiful” He said with a grin. She stops talking and turns to face him with a smirk. “ I don’t mean to interrupt your conversation but I just had to introduce myself. My name is Kofi.” She looks him up and down with interest. He reaches his hand out for hers. “YN” She replies as he grabs her hand placing a kiss on the back of it, noticing the shiny wedding ring on her left hand. The other person she was talking to excuses themselves and walks away to mingle with the other party guests.

“Your man let you come out the house by yourself like that?” He asks, leaning back to admire her curvy frame up close. 

“He did. I'm a big girl, I can look after myself,” she replies, taking the last sip of her drink before signaling the bartender to make her another one.

“Hmm, I see,” He said. She chuckles.

He instantly became mesmerized by her beautiful smile. “You are gorgeous, I had to come make myself known.” I smirk.

“You're pretty good looking yourself.” She replies with a wink, sipping her drink.

They sat at the bar, talked for a little bit and ordered another round of drinks. As they were finishing up he asked her if she would like to dance which she happily agreed, grabbing his hand dragging him to the dance floor. She turns around, putting her backside against him as she starts to dance. He grabs her left hand and raises it in the air as he lets her continue to push up on me, both of them completely getting into it. The sexual tension was thick.

He leans down into her ear and whispers “ Hmm hubby is not going to like this when he finds out” His hands find her waist. She turns around wrapping her arms around his neck bringing her lips to his ear. “What if he doesn’t..” She says, placing a tender kiss on his ear. He shuddered and turned his head to where their lips were literally just inches apart. 

“Hmm, you goin start something sweetheart…” He cautioned.

“I told you ima big girl..” she whispers back, rubbing the back of his head.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Their lips never leave each other as they make their way into her house. She pulls away, grabbing his hand leading him to her bedroom. Their lips meet again in a heated lip lock. He grabs at her dress gently pulling it up her body and over her head. She wore a black lace thong to match with no bra. His eyes are drawn to her succulent full breasts. He palms both of them in my large hands, massaging them pulling a light moan from her lips. His lips find her neck next, then her shoulders and then in between her breasts. He sucks the left one into his mouth as her hand finds the back of his head. Sweet, sensual moans escaping her. Her voice was beautiful. He picked her up gently tossing her on the bed, unbuckling my belt in the process. She palms his member through his pants in return he let out a low groan. He grabbed her neck with one hand and reached down with the other, pulling his piece out with the other. She reaches her hand down and starts firmly stroking him. He starts to slide her panties down to her ankles bringing her shiny wet center into view. 

“Your husband is one lucky man” He said, leaning down to place a single kiss on her clit. He lined himself to her entrance and slid in. Both of them let out a satisfied moan. His hips crash into hers over and over again. Her hands rub the back of his head as he fucked her with passion.

“Turn over for me” He said. She turns over stomach resting on the bed with her ass slightly raised as he slides back in instantly finding her spot. “Oh shit, right there” She moans.

“Right there baby?” He taunts, stroking into her mercilessly. “Oh fuckk” she yells out, gripping the sheets. “I’m gonna cum” she pants. He flips them over again, her ending up on top this time. “ Get your nut” he says, watching their bodies connect. She grabs his shoulders and starts to drop her ass down into his lap, chasing her orgasm. She throws her head back, feeling her orgasm build in her stomach again. “Shitt, You so wet babygirl.”  He groans, biting his lip. He continues to bounce her up and down on his shaft, aiming directly for her spot. He looked up at her, biting his lip at her love faces.

“What time your man getting home?” he asks, with a smirk growing on his face. Too wrapped up in her own orgasm to hear him. “Ohh fuckk im coming!!” She yells, releasing all over him and his lap. He finishes right behind her unloading himself inside her. They fall back onto the bed next to each other. He grabs her hand, placing gentle kisses on the back of it as he plays with the ring on her finger. “That was fun, still didn't say what time your man was getting home” He says with a slight chuckle. She slaps his bare chest joining in the laugh. “Shut up babe, but we should definitely do this more often…

[callme-holly]

𝐄𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 [𝐭𝐢𝐦 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐱 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫]

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 - waking up with Tim Shepard

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 - live laugh love Tim Shepard <33 asks are still open for requests!!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 997 words

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - none

It’s early morning, and the sun is just beginning to rise over Tulsa, casting a soft, dim glow on the streets below. Its rays shine in through the gaps in your blinds, bathing your room in a warm light that appears almost golden, standing stark against the darkened shadows upon your walls

Beside you lies none other than Tim Shepard, his arm hanging loosely across your middle, his hair tousled with sleep, and his eyes bleary as he blinks down at you.

The house is silent, save for the muffled snores coming from your brothers’ respective rooms, and you find yourself tucking your face into the nape of Tim’s neck, humming as the all-too-familiar scent of cigarettes and cheap cologne fills your senses. 

His arms snake around you tighter, and he pulls you even closer until you're practically lying on top of him, your legs intertwined, as he buries his nose into your hair. 

“Mornin’, darlin’,” He drawls, his voice still thick with sleep. You can’t help but smile as he presses a quick kiss on your temple, his rough and calloused fingers idly tracing patterns against your exposed skin. 

“Hey,” You murmur back softly, tilting your head up so you can press a quick peck on his lips. “I didn’t expect you to still be here.” 

Truthfully, you had expected him to leave hours ago, just as the first signs of daylight began to show, colouring the sky with a variety of pinks and oranges. He usually does, taking advantage of the early hour and the lack of people walking the streets to slip from your house unnoticed, ensuring not to wake your brothers when he leaves.  But today, however, it seems as though he’s decided to stick around.

“I didn’t feel like goin’.” Tim replies, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips before stretching out beside you and propping himself up on one elbow. He runs a hand through his hair, tousling it further, before giving you a lazy grin. “Suppose you’ll want’ me gone before your brothers wake up.”

You let out a low hum, pulling away from him slightly so that you could meet his gaze directly, your hand coming up to brush a stray piece of hair from his forehead. 

“You know Darry will freak out if he finds you in here.” 

Tim lets out a low chuckle, running a hand down your side before pulling you into his chest once more. “Relax, doll.” He whispers, his mouth finding the shell of your ear once more, peppering butterfly kisses along your neck. “Nobody'll know I'm here.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes at him, pushing his face away with a small laugh. “I’m not taking any chances.” You tell him sternly, sitting up properly despite his grip on your waist and his quiet groan of protest. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Tim grumbles, letting you pull away from him, though he still doesn't move from his position on your bed. He watches you carefully, studying every feature of your face with an intensity that has never failed to drive you insane as you stand, stretching languidly before turning to fix him with a stern look. He raises his eyebrows questioningly in response, raising both hands in defence.

“Can you blame me for starin’?” He asks, grinning lazily at you. “I mean, damn, y/n, you sure don't want to spend this time doin' something else?” 

You roll your eyes at the ridiculousness of his statement as you make your way across your room, picking up his discarded clothes and tossing them at him. He catches them easily, his eyes still not leaving you as he slips his shirt over his head, the material clinging to his body in all the right places. 

“You’re impossible,” you mutter, turning away from him as he tugs on his wrinkled jeans, immediately pulling a carton of cigarettes from his back pocket. He places one between his lips and goes to light it up, only for you to slap his hand away. 

“Oh no, you don't. Not in here, Timothy Shepard.” You scold, “Do you want Darry to skin me?” 

Tim pauses and lets out a breathy chuckle, his arms circling around your waist once more. He gives you as innocent a look as he can manage. 

“Come on, doll. Don’t be like that.” He trails off, his words sounding as though they were made from honey. His fingers trace slow circles across your stomach, sending shivers throughout your entire body as your eyes flutter shut. “My company ain’t all that bad, is it?” The cigarette is forgotten momentarily in favour of trailing light kisses over your shoulders.

“It’s tolerable,” you tease, smiling as you turn around in his embrace, your hands resting lightly on his chest. “But you better be gone before my brothers wake up.” You add, swatting him away as he begins to place feather-light kisses across your jaw. 

“Oh really?” Tim asks, quirking an eyebrow and smirking down at you.

“Yes.” You reply firmly, reaching out to cup his cheek, the pad of your thumb brushing gently under his bottom lip. “Get the hell outta here, Shepard.” 

He nods with a sigh, releasing you reluctantly, pulling on his boots, which he had discarded by your bed the night before, and slinging his jacket over his shoulder. He leans forward and presses one final chaste kiss to your lips before heading over to your window. You watch as he unlatches it, pushing it open carefully and slipping silently out onto the grass below with the same stealth as an alley cat. 

He turns to shoot you one last smirk, his hand cupping your cheek for one brief moment when you lean out to say goodbye, whispering a promise to meet him later on, knowing full well he'll be back in your room, tangled in your sheets once more. 

He flashes another wink before he disappears into the morning light. 

𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬!!

[slytherinshua]

INTERTWINED SOULS, CLASHING LIPS

genre. vampire au. fluff. brief reference to vampire seungwoo for @haecien and cien alone teehee. warnings. reader is briefly a bat sdkjsk lmao. blood and fangs and other vampire stuff. hanbin's tattoos are magical!! kissing and the tiniest bit of biting. like 1 second of nudity i'm not sure but it's nothing sexual guys promise. not proofread. pairing. vampire!hanbin x vampire!reader. wc. 997. request. no. a/n. i mean he was practically asking me to write this when he dropped his aotm...

read part 2 here

Hanbin’s collarbone was burning, which, despite the pain, was a good sign. His tattoos were reacting to a signal that only you could have put out. And he knew that you were coming home, back to him.

It had been a few years since you had been sent out on your mission by the elders. Hanbin had never worried about you making it back to him. You dying from a mission was a ridiculous notion, no matter how dangerous the task was. You always rose above your station and completed every commission you were given. But the years you had been apart from him, although barely even worth counting, had started to become noticeable to him.

Compared to the hundreds of years you had been united with him, a couple years gone on a mission was almost nothing. But with time had grown fondness, and Hanbin couldn’t help the way his heart yearned for you.

As the burning grew more intense and his tattoos glowed brightly, he knew it was only a matter of minutes before you were back in his arms. He waited with baited breath on the top of his tower, eyes sharply focused for any bat that emerged from the forest. Exactly 8 minutes later, he saw the silhouette of one.

He rubbed his palm against his sternum, subsiding the pain that had grown to its worst. The cost of uniting two vampire’s souls in hopes of greater power was an equal amount of pain. Hanbin held out his hands, and the bat landed carefully on them. It slumped forward a second after, completely exhausting its energy. Hanbin cupped it gently, and carried it inside. 

“I told you not to fly with the pain. Now you’re stuck.” He scolded the bat as he placed it on the soft bed. He closed his eyes in concentration, and with his right hand flattened over his moon tattoo, slowly summoned his power. The ink glowed, and so did the palm of his hand.

He moved his hand to the bat's head, ignoring the screech it let out as he let the magic flow through its body. A few seconds of writhing around later, the bat shapeshifted back into its vampire form.

“You couldn’t have been a little gentler with that? You nearly suffocated me.” You coughed, shooting a glare at the man dressed in black. He handed you a robe with a shake of his head, and you wrapped it around your bare body.

“Would you rather live as a bat for the next thousand years? You should be thankful.” He tsked, averting his gaze from your figure so as to try to not seem so obvious. You had called him out many times for his bad habit of staring.

“All you do is nag me. Someone needs to shut you up.” You stood up, grabbing Hanbin’s wrist before he could continue making moves to leave the room.

“As if you’d survive a day without a word from me.” He countered, red eyes shining a bit brighter at your touch. He hadn’t felt his magic surge so powerfully since the last time you had been back.

“I survived a few years. A few more days would be a piece of cake.” You replied, pulling his face down before he could think of another witty response. 

Maybe it was the familiarity of it all that made you feel as if nothing had changed. Hanbin’s lips tasted just like you remembered. Exactly the same as the many nights you had imagined it in hopes of soothing the ache in your heart. Coming back to Hanbin meant coming back to a missing part of your soul. The longer you were separated from each other, the weaker you both became. And, as the reverse, the closer you were, the stronger. That is why the elders were so pleased with your clearly undying infatuation with each other. 

Hanbin’s former reprove towards you completely melted away the moment his lips made contact with yours. The clash of soft lips and sharp fangs stole all his breath, clouding his brain with only one thought: relief. Restlessness always followed him when you were away. Your weak state when you landed in his hand filled him with worry, but feeling your kiss now gave him consolation. 

He pulled away breathlessly, and a satisfied smirk lifted on his lips, just wide enough to uncover one of his fangs. You looked at his face, admiring his gleaming eyes, bruised lips, pearly teeth, and smooth skin. Your gaze dropped slightly lower, eyeing the marking on his collarbone, of which you also displayed below the dip of your neck.

You pressed a small kiss to the sun, which granted Hanbin his strength and surged his magic. Next, your lips found the star, which allowed him to cast complex spells, both to aid in combat or alter the very fabric of time. Lastly, you grazed the moon emblem which stored his healing abilities. With it, he was easily able to nurse you back to health within seconds. Pulling him closer again, you travelled up to his neck and teasingly nipped at his skin.

“Did you not get your fill of biting people while on your mission? You’re insatiable.” He commented in amusement. The sensation pricked his skin with a whisper of pain that was soon soothed completely by your lips. Although he would gladly let you have free rein over him for as long as you wanted, one glance at the time urged him to pull you off of him gently.

“We should announce your return to Seungwoo and the others. They’ve been expecting you.” He urged you, and a flash of pride showed in his eyes. You were sure to be rewarded generously for your excellence during the past few years you were gone. Now more than ever, Hanbin felt fortunate that he was intertwined with you in every function of life. For, even your very souls laced together perfectly.

↳ zerobaseone taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @eternalgyu,, @okshu,, @chewryy,, @haecien,, @sobun1est,,

@emmylksblog,, @talkingsaxy,, @thesunsfullmoon,, @chenleszone,, @sxmmerberries,,

@talking-saxy,, @cupidslovearrows,, @dimplewonie,, @50-husbands,, @hursheys,,

@kristianities,, @kangtaehyunzzz

[lunerenzo]

Falling behind, 01

Art cred(s); @wacuoms

☆ Pairing(s). Barista!Suguru geto x Nursing student! reader 

☆ Content. Swearing, mentions of self harm (not seriously though), conversations of college, fluff, talks of food, reader is intended to be black but anyone can read, please let me know if i missed anything :)

☆ Notes. Hi guys! First off, thank you so so so much for a hundred followers! I appreciate it so much and am so grateful! This is going to be a series so expect more pieces from me soon and yeah. That's all I got for right now.  Words in bold is reader.

☆ Word count. 997

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED, Enjoy!

Masterlist. | Next.

‘Fuck mornings.’ Is the mantra that repeats in Suguru’s mind as he turns on the cafe’s lights. Laying his hands on his face before inevitably dragging them down, shrugging his coat off and hanging it against the wall before making his way out the backroom. “Who the fuck is even up this early to get coffee? ‘S ridiculous.” He grumbles as he stumbles to the front of the establishment, flipping the sign that hangs on the door to ‘open’. 

The smell of coffee and soft music slowly wakes him up, heating up pastries and putting them in their respective places in the display glass, the usual. Suguru looks at the clock on his lockscreen, its only been fifteen minutes? He huffs, leaning against the counter as his arms are tucked under each other. He sits there staring blankly at the wall. He could read, or doddle, or-, the bell at the front door rings. Isn’t it like six o’clock in the morning? Why would somebody be out of the house this early? Geto sighs as he turns around. “Welcome and good morning. How can-” Everything stops. The music, the sounds of coffee brewing, the clock in the corner, everything. In Front of him sat a girl, roughly his age. She was beautiful, dewy skin glowing in the light of the rising sun. An elastic headband pushing some of her hair out her face. Brown tortoiseshell glasses perched on the bridge of her nose. “Um.” God, even her voice was amazing. 

“S-Sorry, um, howw can I help you?” Shit, how long has he been staring? His eyes cast down in embarrassment as he tusks a strand of hair behind his ear. He’s racking his brain to see if he’s remembered her from somewhere. A regular or something? No. Well, the school year just started and there’s a university not that far from here. That’s probably it….or maybe not. She's wearing scrubs, so maybe she has some type of early shift at a hospital. “Is the brown sugar espresso good?” “Uh, i mean yeah. I like it.” The girl nods, sitting there idly for a bit. “Yeah I’ll take that and aaa…creme brulee donut.” Suguru nods, tapping on the screen and logging in quickly. “Oat milk okay?” “Yeah, that’s fine.” He hums putting in the order before looking back up, hand reaching back to the nape of his neck twirl and pull his hair nervously. “Anything else?” She declines, shuffling through her purse and handing her card.

Geto damn near short circles when his hand brushes her. Busy swiping the card and doing whatever else, a slight aroma of peaches fills the air. He sniffed slightly, was that her? “Here you go.” He mumbles as he hands her back the card. The girl flashes him a smile as she takes the card back. When Geto turns around he mentally hypes himself up as he makes her drink, his face feeling like it was on fire as he prepares himself to engage in small talk. ‘Come on Suguru, you got this.’ He takes a deep as he puts ice in the metallic cup, “So, whats your name?” “[reader], you?” “Suguru, suguru geto.” “Oh, thats a nice name.” He might be dying, like actually. “T-Thanks. You got a morning shift? I mean we’re uh…pretty far from the hospital.” Did he just stutter? His palms begin to get clammy as he pours the syrup to the bottom of the cup. Why can’t a sinkhole just his size open up right under him? “Oh no, i’m not a nurse. Not yet at least, I'm going to the medical university not that far from here.” He could feel her eyes in the back of his head. Dear god, what is happening? He’s never been this nervous in his life. Okay, maybe once or twice, but to talk to a girl? Never. Her voice was so light and cheerful.

“That’s whats up. Umm…got anything that you like studying or something that interests you?” ‘Just focus on making the drink. Focus and everything will go smoothly.’ Geto thinks as he pour the espresso and oat milk into the cup. Shaking it quickly and a bit roughly before pouring it in a plastic to-go cup. “I enjoy the simulations, they have these extremely realistic robots, like i i was in a simulation lab with a friend, ya’know just practicing, and one just yelled out ‘i want my mommy’.” He chuckles softly. Putting on the cups top and he put it on the front counter. Towards the pickup side. “I’d honestly be terrified if i were you.” He mumbles as he grabs a small parchment paper bag. Squatting down and grabbing the tongs to put one of the huge brulee donuts inside. He stands back up, folding the top flap and putting a little sticker to keep it sealed. “Here.” Suguru mumbles with a small smile. His hand brushes against hers once more, her skin was so soft. “You smell like peaches.” He blurts out, and immediately regrets it. His entire face and ears flushed into a shade of red. Embarrassment eating him whole, he’s throwing himself off a building. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know why i said that, i just-” [Reader] giggles, waving her hand dismissively. “You’re fine and thank you.” She says after a while. Full lips pulled into a graceful smile, his breathe hitched slightly. She was ethereal, like some type of painting you’d see from the renaissance era.

“N-No problem. Uh…s-see you around?” Geto stammers, looking at the girl across the counter. He felt like he was floating, is this what people mean when they talk about love at first sight? Cause he totally gets the hype. “Yeah. I’ll be around every now and then.” He nods frantically, “Yeah, okay.” [Reader] giggles one more time. Before grabbing her food and waving at him as she walks out the door. Him doing the same and waving a good bye as she leaves. ‘Shit.’

☆A/N. I don't really having anything else to say besides I'm working on the second chapter rn and if anyone want to be on the tag list let me know!

© 2023 lunerenzo, please don’t plagiarize or translate work.

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

congrats on 1k!!! can i have Q and 🥵?

Thank you so much! 🥰

This was ... less angsty and more smutty in my head. 😅

Guiding light

Rated: E

Words: 997

Tags: Post-Vecna; Kas!Eddie Munson; monster!Eddie Munson; rough sex; monsterfucking; angst; hopeful ending

He doesn't know what pulls him in.

He doesn’t know a lot of things, these days.

The portals have closed. Master is dead. So are his siblings. The comforting buzz of their claws and wings and voices in his head, the cold, familiar slither of their minds against his, it's all gone.

It’s dreadfully empty, all alone in his head. His mind flails like a bird the dark, released from the confines of its … house? prison? A thing with bars, he doesn’t know the word. It’s lost somewhere in the void and he can’t grasp it, doesn’t know how to reach for it. Doesn’t remember.

That’s how the golden glow flickering beyond the trees finds him - naked in the night, stumbling around without aim. He doesn’t know why he follows it.

The house is dark, half-destroyed from the ground tremors. The light pulses from a window above him. A … a tiny fire thing. A candle.

A candle to light his way, like something from a … another thing he doesn’t remember the word for, a thing with words on pages that takes you to far-off worlds, a thing that smells of ink, paper, dust. A thing he used to … love.

The distant echo of the feeling makes his head erupt in pain, makes something horribly warm bubble in his chest. He scales the wall, using his tail and wings for support, ready to snuff out the tiny light.

“There you are.”

A whisper, barely more than a breath floating on air. He whips around as if yanked by a leash, fangs bared.

There’s a … sleep thing in the corner of the room. Blankets and pillows that smell of comfort, warmth, rest - but that isn’t what makes his mouth water and his stomach churn with a terrible, primal feeling. A feeling that’s close to hunger but not quite.

It's the figure sitting on top of the thing. A boy with eyes that are bright in the flickering candlelight, eyes brimming with emotions he doesn’t know.

But he knows those eyes.

The warm thing in his chest explodes, like boiling liquid eating at his insides. He roars in pain and confusion and fear and launches himself at the boy. He wants to shred, he wants to maim, he wants the burning to stop, he wants the emptiness to go away, he wants, he wants, he wants-

Something touches his face, something soft and light. A hand. He has the boy pinned, claws digging into his shoulders, ripping through the fabric of his shirt. Fangs inches from his throat, breath hot against his pulse.

There's no fear in those eyes. Instead, those lips - soft and inviting and familiar - curl into a smile.

“I thought I'd never see you again,” says the boy, fingers slipping up to his temples, gently combing aside the tangled curtain of his hair.

He doesn’t know gentle.

Then why does he remember it?

He peels back his lips and hisses, wings flaring out, tail slicing the air like a whip.

“It’s okay,” says the boy. His hand tucks a strand of hair behind his ear, slowly, tenderly and the warm thing coils in his chest, in his abdomen. “I know you're in there, Eddie.”

The pain in his skull turns blinding white. The word … the name ricochets in the empty cavern of his mind and his chest pulls with want, so hard he thinks it might crack open.

The boy's eyes are bright like the candle. Pulling him in. His claws shred through fabric, exposing soft skin, patterns of moles like … sky things. Stars.

“Go ahead,” says the boy. “I'm here. Take what you need.”

He doesn’t know what he needs.

But he thinks he remembers.

*

He doesn't know gentle, but the boy does.

His claws can only leave gashes and cuts, but those hands can tease and caress. His fangs can only bite and tear, but those lips leave kisses and whispered words of endearment. He's death and destruction and cold, but the boy is warmth and kindness and life.

He shouldn’t want that warmth, but he does. And he takes it. Takes it in all the ways he knows and all the ways he remembers.

The boy doesn't stop him once. Not when he pushes inside of him with a brutality that punches the breath from his chest in a hoarse whimper. Not when the force of his thrusts makes the sleep thing … the bed … groan and creak. Not when his claws leave bruises and draw blood, not when his tail wraps around the boy's throat, leaving him gasping for breath underneath him.

By the time he spills inside of that warmth and collapses on top of the boy, spent and exhausted and finally sated, the candle has burnt to a small stub and the sky beyond the window is turning brighter. Birdsong reaches his ears and he snarls reluctantly.

“You need to go?”

The boy's smile is tired and slow, and a little sad. He's beautiful in the waxing light, skin littered in marks. Marks he left there. The warm feeling blooms in his chest again. He thinks he could get used to the pain if means seeing that smile again.

“That’s alright.” Fingers combing through his hair, lips tracing the ruined remains of pictures etched into his skin. “I'll leave the candle burning so you can find me again, now that you know the way.”

He whines, even as he disentangles himself from the boy's embrace. He doesn’t know gentle, but he still presses his lips to the long stretch of that throat one last time, fangs scraping over bruised and bitten skin.

The boy sighs and melts into the touch.

“I'll get you back, Eddie. No matter how long it takes.”

He doesn't know gentle, and he doesn’t know the person that name belongs to.

But the darkness is a little bit thinner now. And he thinks that some day, he might remember.

Steve guiding Eddie back to himself through unhinged monsterfucking? Why not?

More celebration ficlets

[st-el-la-luna]

Call of the Valley {Call of Duty x Reader/Stardew Valley AU｝

Prologue: Grey

➔ gn!reader ("you"/"your" pronouns used), thoughts of violence, mentions of death

no character introductions yet, just some world building. unedited

Series masterlist!

next

997 words

Grey walls. Grey ceilings. Grey floors. Grey desks. 

Everywhere you look is grey. From the meticulously lined cubicles to the desks lacking any personalization. From the uncomfortable chairs to the equally as uncomfortably sticky floors. From the company provided coffee mug to the company provided calendar. From your coworker's outfit (you swear that sweater used to be blue) to the contents of your lunch. 

It’s all grey. 

You sigh as you push around the mushy overcooked rice on your desk before you. In the silence of the office, you might as well have fired a gun, the sound a stark contrast to the usual deadness. The only sounds typical of this purgatory you call work are the tap-tap-tapping of keys and the clicking of mouses. Plus, the occasional beep of the microwave, or slam of the fridge door (you swear that fridge has been here longer than any employee. The way the lightbulb buzzes when you open the door sounds like a cry for help. A plea for you to end its decades-long misery. You, of course, don’t. If you must suffer, then so too must the fridge). 

Someone clears their throat from the entry of your cubicle. You turn away from your sad little lunch to find your sad little supervisor. Who, surprise, surprise, is dressed in, you guessed it, even more grey. 

“Something the matter?” she asks you with a smile that makes you want to use your cheap plastic fork to carve out her eyes. “I could have sworn I heard something.” 

“Yeah, sorry,” you try for a smile in return, not sure why you bother considering you hate her guts as much as she hates yours. “I’m just... tired.” 

“Well, tired or not, you know better than to bring that kind of attitude to the workplace. Big smiles, remember? The atmosphere matters you know!” 

“Right, yeah,” you nod, barely able to stop yourself from rolling your eyes. “Big smiles.” 

“Come on, let’s see it,” your supervisor says, tapping the sign on your cubicle wall *Smile, you’re with Joja!* You put on a smile which she returns with a patronizing scrunch of her nose, talking to you like one would an unruly child. “There, that wasn’t that hard now, was it?” 

It wouldn’t be too hard to use my stapler to knock your teeth in, you bitch. It’d only take a couple of hits... All the red would really brighten this place up... Ever heard of colour theory? 

“Yeah,” you smile. “Not that hard.” 

Your computer beeps. Your lunch break is over. You haven’t touched your food. 

Your supervisor's smile widens. The brown-nosing corporate shill that she is. “Well, you’d better get back to it... And try to do better this afternoon. Your numbers have been trailing all morning. I’d hate to have to write you up.” 

“Yeah,” you say as you drop your food into the rubbish. “I’m sure.” 

Your computer goes off again, demanding your attention. Your supervisor stands there for a moment longer than she needs to, as if checking that you’re really going to work, then hums, pleased, and walks away. 

It’s going to be a long day...  

But hey, look on the bright side, you won’t be doing this forever. 

One day you’ll die. 

Die... The thought echoes in your head for a bit. Die... Die... 

Your gaze falls to the drawer of your desk where the letter from your late great-uncle sits, waiting to be opened. You didn’t know the guy much, the family didn’t really talk about him, and he never came to any gatherings. But he had no kids and, well... No one really. He’d been thrilled when you had expressed interest in enlisting in your early teens. He taught you all the tricks of the trade and then some. 

He was less thrilled when you told him you’d changed your mind. 

It really wasn’t that shocking news. He’d kept talking on and on about pulling some strings, using his connections, but it’s just... not what you wanted anymore. You weren’t a kid anymore and well, you had to be realistic. 

Besides, they didn’t want you to enlist. You’d tried and well... While you passed the physical tests fine and were more than smart enough to work in intelligence or as a bomb tech, your psychological tests were... Less than stellar. Which was difficult to explain to a man who, despite having watched countless of his friends die and witness atrocities you could never fathom, thought that mental illness was a sham created by the youth to get out of doing real work. 

It’s not like you’d caused his heart attack. He was already sick. And all the smoking and drinking from his days on active duty surely didn’t help. He got himself too worked up over something small, and well... His heart just couldn’t take any more of it. 

Speaking of being unable to take anymore... you can hear your supervisor coming back around. You look between your monitor and the desk drawer. Monitor. Drawer. Monitor. Drawer. Monitor. Drawer. Monitor... 

“I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to write you up. Just know this isn’t-” 

“I quit.” 

And, just like that, you grab your few personal belongings and shove past her to the door, manilla envelope clutched in your hand.  

She sputters something behind you, makes a move to grab your wrist. You dodge. 

“You can’t be serious,” she says. “You... You can’t quit now! It’s the busiest time of the year!” 

“I just did... Oh, and Stacy?” 

“Yes?” she asks, almost hopeful. 

“You’re a right bitch. Just wanted to let you know.” 

Her entire face goes red as her cheeks puff out. “You... I... Wh...” 

You leave her there to her aneurysm, walking into the elevator and letting the doors close behind you. 

You lean your head back against the grey wall, resting your weight against the railing. You glance at the envelope in your hand. 

God... Please don’t let this be a mistake.  

please comment and reblog to support my writing! asks are always open! Literally nothing inspires me to write more!

who should we meet first and how?

taglist: @tooloudarts @cadotoast @elaineiswithyou-blog @thigh-o-saur

Masterlist!

[august-anon]

11. "How can someone not be ticklish??" with Wyll 🥺🥺🥺??

find the list of warmup prompts and which fandoms i am taking here!

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wyll my darling beloved boy!!!!!!!! kdjfhjkdfh because i get so excited about wyll (and also this specific prompt plays into one of my Favorite tropes lol) this ended up being WAY more than a little ficlet or drabble but its Fine it just means more wyll content lol

(also, very funny, but by the time i had this 90% completed i got another ask with the same prompt also with wyll but with a specific companion so i did not combine the prompts lol)

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Playful Exploration

Fandom: Baldur’s Gate 3

Ship(s): Tav/Wyll

Characters (lee/ler): Ler!Wyll/Lee!Tav

Word Count: 997 words

Summary: Wyll refuses to believe that Tav isn't ticklish. Tav allows him the chance to prove it.

[ao3 link]

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“How can someone not be ticklish?” 

Wyll’s expression twisted into something incredulous, brows furrowed and eyes narrowed, his nose crinkling in the most adorable way with the force of his frown. Tav couldn’t help the soft smile that rose to their face at the sight. They relaxed back onto the blanket the two of them had spread over the grass, fiddling idly with the now-empty basket that had previously held their rather late dinner.

“I don’t know,” they hummed. “Just that I’m not.”

Wyll’s frown deepened and he shifted closer, lying parallel to Tav. “Just that no one’s found the right places, you mean.”

Tav laughed, soft and light so as not to disturb the peace of the night, and let Wyll draw them in closer with an arm around their waist. “This seems rather important to you. A favorite pastime of yours?”

Wyll’s nose crinkled again as he lost himself in thought. “Not quite as such, though I remember not minding much as a boy.”

Tav hummed, absent-mindedly running their fingers up and down Wyll’s arm. Of course, it made sense that the Blade of Frontiers wouldn’t have much time to explore frivolities like those in recent years. There was a sharp sense of loneliness accompanying the title of Hero, as Tav was quickly learning over the course of their adventures. It was hard to build a real connection with anyone once you became larger-than-life.

Tav was drawn out of their thoughts by Wyll’s fingers tracing down their own arm, a gentle, barely-there touching mimicking their own ministrations. His fingers slipped between their own once he reached their hand, and he gave it a quick squeeze.

“Everyone’s ticklish somewhere.”

“And is that a fact?”

“I’d say so.”

Tav grinned and shook their head. “Is this you asking permission?”

“Only if you wouldn’t mind a little… let’s call it playful exploration.”

Tav thought back to days that felt lifetimes away by now. To friends tussling, fingers squeezing and kneading, disappointed sounds turning to shocked laughter as tables were turned. They smirked and leaned forward to press a brief, chaste kiss against Wyll’s lips.

“Only if you wouldn’t mind the consequences, once I get bored.”

This time when Wyll’s face twisted, it was into something almost bashful, a nervous smile tugging at his own lips. “I suppose, if that would be the price to pay.”

Tav flopped over onto their back, Wyll following after to prop himself over their prone form with a hand by either side of their head. He leaned down and kissed them, drawing it out until Tav had butterflies swarming around their stomach from the attention. Wyll pulled back with a smirk, all too aware of the effect he had on them, brushing a finger over the flush that now filled their cheeks. They squirmed under his gaze, blush deepening.

“Get on with it,” Tav grunted.

Wyll’s smile widened. “I don’t see why I should. You’re clearly not growing bored.”

“Wyll.”

Wyll laughed, rich and deep, shifting around until he sat next to their prone form instead of looming over them. Rather than diving in with squeezing fingers like Tav expected, Wyll gathered up their hand again, dragging his fingers around their palm with a gentle touch. It tingled a little, enough to be distracting, but not enough to warrant a twitch, let alone a laugh. Tav furrowed their brows.

“What are you doing?”

Wyll raised an eyebrow. “Tickling you.”

“That’s not tickling.”

“Is it not? What is, then?”

Tav waved around their free hand, searching for the words. “It’s not that, it’s like– like–” They grumbled, instead choosing to demonstrate by reaching out and squeezing one of Wyll’s thighs.

They couldn’t help the way they brightened at the choked-off giggle he made, an almost predatory instinct inside them begging them to do it again, to tickle him down to the blanket and steal the laughter from his lungs.

“That’s certainly one way of doing it,” Wyll said. “But tonight, I think I prefer a more gentle method.”

Wyll’s fingers drifted away from their palm, up their wrist and forearm, and into the crease of their elbow. They frowned at the foreign sensation, electric and distracting in the oddest of ways. After a quick wiggle in the crook of their arm, his fingers wrapped around to the outside of their arm, dancing up towards their shoulder. Almost imperceptibly, Tav’s breath hitched. More noticeably, their arm twitched away.

“Oh?” Wyll said. “Have I found something?”

Wyll focused on their upper arm, fluttering his fingers in the stretch between their elbow and shoulder. An involuntary smile tugged at Tav’s lips and they had to fight themselves to not tear away from his touch.

“That feels weird,” Tav said, wholly unfamiliar with the giddy tone that overtook their voice.

“I think you mean,” Wyll chuckled, leaning down to peck a kiss on their shoulder, “it tickles.”

Without warning, his fingers spidered up and over Tav’s shoulder, diving into the crook of their neck. Tav squealed, shocking themselves with the noise, as their shoulders shrugged up in a feeble attempt at protection. It did nothing to drive Wyll off. If anything, it made him all the more determined. Tav’s knees curled into their chest and they rolled onto their side, trying instinctively to dislodge him. A few more seconds of tickling, and uncontrollable giggles started to burst out of them.

“Still not ticklish?” Wyll asked, spidering his free hand up the opposite side of their neck to their ear. “Or have you gotten bored yet?” 

Tav was hardly aware of the unintelligible mess that escaped their mouth, bringing their knees up to their chest to curl up as tight as they could as if it would save them. Wyll laughed, his fingers slowing.

“Well?”

Tav puffed out their cheeks. “Fine. I’m a tad ticklish.”

Wyll smirked. “And not a bit bored.”

“No,” Tav huffed out, then quickly matched his expression. “Though I never guaranteed you free from revenge.

[hereticdrws]

it's a little specific, but was thinking about loser!mizu going with reader to a karaoke as official girlfriends (yay!) and discovering that reader was a massive theater kid in high school or something, seems in character to me lol

Karaoke

a/n: I loved this sm I rlly hope u like it 😭 I'm a sucker for loser mizu I need to write headcannons for her 😭

For texting akemi is pink you are purple

Word count:997

Warnings: swearing, alcohol mentioned, I think that's it? Lmk if I missed one

Mizu x reader enjoy ☺️

------------------------------

The lights beamed across the floor of the karaoke bar, a small disco ball decorating the ceiling of the room, drenching the room in small flickering lights, the floor and the small platform was covered in confetti, probably from a previous party.

I looked around for my girlfriend who thankfully was right behind me, following me like a lost puppy.

"You good hon?" I yelled over the beating music of the speakers and whoever was singing

"Yeah I'm fine" She smiled, still a nervous blush adorned her cheeks and tip of her nose at the closeness of the crowd

We had been invited to a karaoke bar by taigen, akemi, and mizus best friend ringo after we had officially become girlfriends after months of dating and even more pining and flirting (though the flirting was more you while mizu did the blushing ;])

I grabbed her hand as we made our way to the bar, sending akemi a quick text that we had arrived and were grabbing drinks

Hey!! We're here js grabbing drinks what room r yall

We're in room 4 ☺️

Great well be there soon!

"Mizu! Their in room 4!" I yelled over to my girlfriend as she grabbed our drinks, I leaned over grabbing mine from her hand

"Great, are you ready?" She inquired

"Yeah! Cmon let's go!" I said radiating excitement.

We made our way through the crowd mizu grabbed my hand squeezing it, obviously uncomfortable with the overwhelming amount of people, I gently pulled her arm towards me, her front pressed against my back.

"You good baby?" I whisper yelled into her ear to ensure she could hear me

"Yeah, crowds just a little much" She sputtered, flashing me a small smile "let's just get to the room, I think it's upstairs

"Ok" I nodded at her, changing directions and heading towards the stairs, not letting go of her hand

Once we finally made it to the room I knocked to let akemi know we were there

"Y/n! Hey omg it's been to long" She squealed as she hugged me

"Its been 2 days" I laughed

"I know! Way to long" She said back with a giggle at the end as she moved over to hug mizu

"Oh mizu! Youre gonna love this! Don't worry" akemi said since mizu had always been the shyest of the group so obviously karaoke would send mizu into a spiral, I mean cmon, singing infront of people? Are you crazy? But she had been convinced somehow

As mizu and I followed akemi into the room, taigen was already belting his heart out to an katy perry song, clearly already very tipsy

"HI mizu" ringo smiled brightly at his bsf

"Hey" She smiled back, moving to sit next to him, dragging you lightly behind her by your intertwined hands

"Mizu! Cmon sing with me!!" Taigen yelled drunkenly at her

"No I'm good" She chuckled nervously, obviously very uncomfortable with the idea of singing katy perry I front of her brand new girlfriend

However that attitude changed the second te alcohol hit her system

2 hours later, 5 drinks in, and at least 17 songs later, mizu had been convinced to start singing, as I was laughing at taigens idiocy with akemi and ringo, mizu and taigen were searching for more songs to do

"The Heather's? Tf is that" taigen slurred, the alcohol had already hit his system awhile ago

"They have heathers?!?!" I practically jumped from my seat, rushing over to where my girl friend and taigen were sitting, pushing taigen away

"Oh my God no way I fucking love them!!" I said towards mizu

"You watched the heathers?" Mizu said, kind of thunderstruck

"Yes!! I used to be the biggest theater kid" I said vibrating with excitement as I looked ta the songs

Mizu just sat there with the biggest doe eyes looking up at me"What?" I laughed as I looked at her adorable shocked expression

"I didn't know you liked them" She mumbled looking away shyly her blush turning a bright red making her palms sweat

"Cmon! Sing with me!" I said as I turned on dead girl walking

We spent the rest of the time belting out lyrics and arguing about the best song/musical, and ofc my favorite was ride the cyclone while mizus was phantom of the opera

Once everyone was all tired out mizu and I headed toward my car

"So.." mizu started, something obviously on her mind

"So..." I said with a giggle bumping her

She let out a small laugh, her blush from earlier returning once more

"I didn't take you as a theater kid" She stumbled out

"No?" I laughed

"No definitely not" She laughed back

"Well aren't I just full of suprises" her blush deepening as I winked at her, throwing my arm around her neck, forcing her down a bit since she was very tall, leaving a few pecks on her cheek, finding it oh so amusing as to watch her blush become deeper and deeper turning her into a tomato

"Alright alright cmon we gotta get home" She stuttered out

"Whatever you say Rudolph" I winked and laughed at her annoyed expression, opening the passenger door for her

We rode home with the ride the cyclone soundtrack on low as I told her all about the plays I did in middle school and high school

"No way you were in a Beetlejuice play you're fucking with me" She said with a laugh

"I'm not!" I giggled at her punching her lightly

"What part?" She said through her laughter

"Lydia deetz!!" I said still laughing along with her

"No way you got a lead part”

“I did!!”

Once we got home and changed into pajamas, I put on beetle juice and we spent the rest of our night cuddled up watching our favs

"Goodnight Rudolph" I mumbled sleepily with a subtle smirk adorning my face

"Goodnight my little theater kid" She said right back

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Thank you for reading I hope yall liked this ☺️

[impala-dreamer]

please Tell Me About John Winchester x Reader and Exhibitionism!

A Quick Break

John Winchester x Reader

997 Words (oops)

NSFW, Exhibitionism, Sex Things

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works

The motel room was stuffy and dark. Y/N was tired of squinting into the shadows and the damned lamps were dimmer than than the idiot cops they’d interviewed that morning. With a huff, she slammed her book down on the bed and leapt up. Her bare toes dug into the plush blue carpet as she padded to the window and threw back the curtains. 

A plumage of dust scattered into the room, but the sunlight was welcomed and warm. 

“I don’t know why you always insist on workin’ in the dark,” she said, hoping to rock John from his stupor. 

He was hard at it, chewing on a pen cap while scanning the surrounding towns’ newspapers from the last two weeks. He cocked a brow and peered over at her. 

“Because I like it,” he answered simply. 

Y/N closed her eyes and let the sun warm her face. “Yeah, well, I can’t see shit.” 

The large, single window ran the entire length of the short front wall and faced the pool area. Like the room, the pool wasn’t much to look at, but a few lodgers were making use of its cooling, overly chlorinated waters. Y/N sighed, wondering if she could coax him into going for a dip. 

“We could use a break, ya know…” 

John hummed non-commitally. “I guess.” 

She turned and pressed her back against the glass. “You have been workin’ real hard, Johnny…” 

Hazel eyes lit up with interest. She was the only one who ever called him that, and despite the less-than-manly quality to the nickname, he loved it. 

“I suppose.” 

She smiled and bit her lip as he stared her way. The mid-day sun was haloing her in bright light and he couldn’t help the twing of desire in his gut. Her curves were sexy silhouettes, her position in the window was one that teased ‘come get me’. 

He answered the call before she could register what he was doing. 

John swept in, grabbing her up into his big arms and licking at her lips. Y/N melted instantly. Her eyes fell closed, her lips softened and parted. She hummed into his mouth as his hands slid down her body, lovingly gripping each delicious curve. 

Pulling back, she grinned up at him. “Take me to bed…” Her whisper was sultry, her eyes inviting. 

John licked his lips and shook his head. He eyed the pool, the patrons splashing about not more than a dozen yards from their room. With a devilish smirk, he bent down to kiss her again, this time diving deep between her lips as he cupped her left breast. She squirmed against him, her body opening for him in every way that it could. His scruff scraped at her lips, his rough hands scratched her sides. He slipped a hand into her shorts and she gasped. 

Looking over her shoulder, Y/N counted six people close by. “John- don’t-”

He tapped at her clit and her body jolted with desire. “You want me to stop?” He pressed down lightly and her eyes glazed over. 

She swallowed hard. “Um… no? I just… there’s people right there.”

John laughed and bent to kiss her throat as he dragged his middle finger slowly through her pussy lips. She shivered and he licked at her ear. “So? Let them watch.” 

Her heart pounded, her knees spread a little wider. She nodded breathlessly. “OK…” 

With a hard kiss, John pressed her into the window. The sunkissed glass hit the small of her back; warm and firm. She could feel phantom eyes upon her, and she prayed that the glare from the sun was hiding her writhing form. 

John dipped two fingers in deep and flickered his thumb over her clit. Every moan was swallowed by a kiss, every buck of her hips was met with a thrust of his hand. She clung to his broad shoulders, licked at his throat, desperately tried to be involved when all she really wanted was to lay back and have him fuck her until the walls came down around them. 

“Johnny,” she moaned, “need your cock… please…” 

He growled aganist her lips and withdrew his hand from her shorts, immediately moving to open his belt. Once more, Y/N moved to scoot around him and run for the bed, but again, he stopped her. 

“No.” He shook his head and tugged on the waistband of her shorts. “Right here.” 

She hesitated, an innocent pout turning her lip. “But-”

A big hand gripped her hip, tugging her close. “Now.” 

Y/N held her breath as John lifted her up. She wrapped her legs around his trim waist and let out a hard huff as he propped her up against the window. 

“This is bad,” she laughed. 

He grinned. “Is it?” His erection nudged at her cunt. 

She shuddered and whined. “No. Good. Do it. Please.” 

John slammed into her and she worried for a moment that the glass would shatter, but it held strong. 

Her nails dug into the back of his neck; his hands cupped her ass. 

The sun beat down on the window, highlighting but hiding their bodies. If anyone was watching from the pool, they made no scene; blissfully unaware of the orgasmic pulse still working its way through Y/N’s shaking body as John set her down on the blue carpet. She fell to her knees and took his cock in her mouth, finishing the job while the lodgers swam, oblivious. 

His palms flat on the window, he jerked his hips in a quick rhythm, forcing her to keep up or choke. When she buried her face in the black hair around his cock, he came, spurting down her delicate throat. 

He helped her to her feet. She smiled with cum-drunk happiness. 

“How’s that for a break?” he asked. 

Y/N laughed and slumped forward into his arms. “It was pretty good,” she replied. “But, I still wanna go for a swim...” 

[joviepog]

hi hi! i love your work and was wondering if you could do a wilbur x reader where the reader is going through a breakup and best friend wilbur comforts them and they end up kissing at the end?

A new start

Pronouns: She / they?

Warnings: Heartbreak, crying, angst, cursing, mention of alcohol.

Word count: 997 words!

Anything else: Thank your for the request! I had made one of these when i first started and it was really cool to do a remake! Also thank you for the support! Its really kind if you! :D

“F-Fuck.” You sniffle, “I can’t cry… I’ll let everyone down. I’m supposed to be the happy friend!” You said while sobbing. You where sat on your bed crying into a pillow, trying to muffle your sounds “I-I cant cry…” you said again. You slid into your bed and kept crying. Your sobs started to turn into you bawling. You hated this. You where supposed to be happy. Why is it that you find yourself crying? And even worse your roommate is right next door. If he sees you in this state..

There was a soft knock on the door before a british voice started speaking. It was a soft voice, caring and compassionate. “YN? Is everything okay in there?” This set off panic mode in you. You quickly got up and wiped away your tears, stuffing the pillow under your bed. If he saw how wet it was from all the tears he would start asking questions. You muttered curses under your breath about how dusty that pillow is going to be later. You shoved the beer bottles under the bed as well and turned around. You looked in the mirror for a second. You looked wrecked. It looked like you had a least 30 beers (which is quite close to what you did have) and as if you hadn’t slept in days.

“I uh.. brought you food… You haven’t really come out of your room in a couple of days and uhh… well I know all your backup snacks are probably gone by now.” He said softly. Still not opening the door. You kept quiet, not wanting yo speak. Knowing that you would sound like you’ve been crying. You tried to fix your hair a bit before putting on an oversized sweater that you and Wilbur found. The purple LED lights where the only thing that was on in the room. Your phone had been dead for days and you couldn’t find yourself charging it. Not wanting to see any of the notifications you probably got.

You finally decided that you couldn’t just leave Wilbur outside. Even though seeing people was the last thing you wanted to do, you opened the door slowly. “T-thanks Wil.” You said softly, not wanting to him to notice your voice. You looked down, not wanting to meet his eyes. You could feel his eyes on you and you hated it. He was studying you. If you didn’t get the food quick he would notice how shitty you felt.

You grabbed the food and started closing the door before he placed his hand to stop it.

“Yn…” He said softly, looking at you.

You sniffled before trying to close the door again but his hand just stopped it. He slowly opened the door more to see cloths all over the floor. He turned to your bed, studying it. His eyes widened a bit at the sight of the beer bottles, they where poorly hidden. “Wilbur!” You managed to choke out.

“Yn..” he repeated turning back to you. His eyebrows where scrunched up a bit as he looked at you with a worried look. That worried look.

‘don’t cry don’t cry Don’t cry Don’t Cry DON’T CRY.’ You kept repeating to yourself but you couldn’t help it. You burst out crying.

Wilbur hugged you tightly, grabbing you waist and the other hand was rubbing your back. “Oh YN…” he said. Your face was in his chest as you cried. You would mutter words like, “I don’t know what I did wrong.” And “Why did he leave me Wil? Why?” You couldn’t help but cry for a couple of minutes, feeling comforted by his touch. “Wilbur what did I do wrong? I made sure to always be happy, to always do what he said. Why did he leave me? What did I do wrong?” He stayed silent as you continued, “He knows everything about me Wil. He knows my secrets. He knows who I really am. All my friends are going to hate me when he tells him what I said. Oh god wilbur. I’m so scared…” you said into his chest as you sniffled.

“Yn, Darling, it’ll all be okay.” He said softly. “Your not in the wrong he is. That piece of shit can fuck of.” He says confidently before pausing.

“YN.” He let go of you and kneeled to look up to you. Grabbing you hand and rubbing his thumb along your skin. “YN you are the most perfect person ever. You beautiful and absolutely gorgeous. Your smile can light up a room YN. You’re the kindest, most important person in my life. Trust me this will all pass soon. All those friends that will supposedly hate you? They are fake. Because if they knew who you really are. If they know how absolutely amazing you are, they wouldn’t even believe that prick. God Yn, if you could just see how amazing you are. You always putting so much weight on yourself, making everybody happy. But you need to make sure that your pleasing yourself, Darling.”

He paused and you blushed at the nickname.

“YN look at me.” You finally looked at him, tears still slowly rolling down your eyes. “I love you. Everyone loves you. You are our light. Our everything. My everything. Don’t let some bitch change that about you.” He says softly. You look at him for a second before making a move that you’ve been wanting to do for a long time. You kissed him. You closed your eyes and pulled him by the collar. You could only imagine his expression. The kiss was soft yet passionate. He never even pulled away. He just kissed you softly.

You gasped for air before looking at him again. His eyes where wide and his face was red. His gaze softened though, looking at you again. “Wow.” He said.

You laughed a little before hugging him again, “Thank you Wil.”

“No problem, My Love.”

The food. Was long forgotten.

P.S I’m sorry if it turned out bad i am currently running on two hours of sleep 😭

@justanormalfangirlx2 Thanks for the request!

[mwebber]

MARTIAN'S MATCHING PORSCHE 911 GT2 RS CARS: A MASTERPOST

are you ready to feel parasocial about a pair of matching porsches, one of which may or may not even exist? you've come to the right place!

SECTIONS:

what is the 2010 Porsche 911 GT2 RS?

what's been said about the matching cars

timeline

unanswered questions and speculation

WHAT IS THE 2010 PORSCHE 911 GT2 RS?

well, it's her (source in watermark)

though she's been upstaged by her counterparts in the last decade, at the time, the gt2 rs was the most powerful road car porsche had ever built. only 500 were made. one of which, as we all know, came into the paws of one mark webber--another, presumably, found a home in sebastian vettel's garage. why do i say presumably? well..

WHAT'S BEEN SAID ABOUT THE MATCHING CARS

rather than making you squint at a bunch of screencaps, i'm just going to copy and paste the quotes that are out there..

“[The 911 GTS RS] is a beast! It’s got biblical power – the amount of torque is phenomenal. Sebastian [Vettel] bought one as well back in the day, we bought one together pretty much and I think he’s had a few tricky moments in his! They’re proper machines, those things. I think the engine’s probably a little bit big for the body, but in the right hands she’s a machine!” Red Bull. july 28, 2016.

Webber said he shopped for a new ride with teammate Sebastian Vettel and both agreed that the Porsche made the most sense. He's extremely happy with the GT2's performance, comfort and race car-like driving dynamics. Auto123, date unknown. the video in question

“I think it was around Monaco Grand Prix time, [Red Bull teammate] Sebastian Vettel and I were looking at some cars,” Webber said. “I’m not big on my road cars, to be honest, but when we started talking about this one it was a no-brainer.” But instead of pulling any strings using his formula one fame, Webber reportedly strolled into a UK Porsche dealer to order his new wheels personally. Drive. October 7, 2016.

“As a young guy, growing up in Australia, the Porsche 911 was definitive. I remember talking to Sebastian Vettel when the GT2 came out, about the power, the way it looked. He said, ‘what do you reckon?’ I said, ‘we should both get one’, so we did. If you take a 911 to a track day it’s the car that’s running around out there still working, with its brakes still working, at the end of the day. It’s a Porsche. You know that. We all know that. Brakes are important, you know." Top Gear Malaysia. date unknown, but since the headline is "mark webber has retired from racing," i'm going to pin it at sometime around november, 2016

“… Monte Carlo Grand Prix, 2010. I was sitting with Sebastian Vettel, and we were looking at the new 997 GT2 RS. And he said, ‘Shit, we need to buy one of those, you know?’ And I said, ‘yeah, we need—both of us.’ So I think that night, Monaco, after qualifying, we, uh. I didn’t outqualify Seb often, but that day, lucky, I kicked his ass, I was on pole position and he was not qualifying that well. And I said, ‘you still gonna buy the 911?’ And he said, ‘yeah, we should buy it.’ So he got a black one, I got a white one...” fan video from the weekend of oct 2-3, 2021.

and though nothing was mentioned about matching cars, they're driving the same model (DEFINITELY different car though, one purchased by the red bull ring) in the now-famous martian taxi drivers instagram post, where mark says, “At the end of the day we even drove each other for a few laps. That’s the biggest bloody endorsement a street car can have, F1 drivers wanting to do more laps for the own pleasure😉👌🏽” april 24, 2020. this is the only allusion to the car i can find that is not only from 2010, but also shows that seb so much as touched a 2010 porsche 911 gt2 rs.

now, you may ask, why are you being so cagey about seb and his porsche?

well, the thing is. sebastian vettel has not so much as breathed a WORD to the media about owning a porsche 911, much less matching one with mark. as far as i can tell from the numerous searches i've done, anyway. everything we know about their matching porsches has come from mark.

TIMELINE

so with that, let's piece it together:

some point on thurs/fri of the monaco gp (may 13 or 14, 2010): martian see the 911 and they're like. hot damn. seb says what do u think. mark says let's get one each.

saturday (may 15): mark beats seb in qualifying, then gloatingly asks if seb is still in the mood to buy the porsche. and because seb is insane, he says yes.

some unidentified point in the future, likely in the break between monaco and turkey because i sincerely doubt mark was in the mood to go car shopping with seb after that (may 16-26): they buy the porsches. mark buys a white one, seb buys a black one.

2016: they don't speak about this to anyone in the media until mark retires from racing for good. when questioned about his favourite porsche cars, only THEN does he even mention that this car matching business took place at all. and, unprompted, repeats this story to multiple news outlets when asked about the 911.

we're faced with several years of silence until 2021, when the story pops up again.

UNANSWERED QUESTIONS AND SPECULATION

have you ever thought it weird that something as clinically insane as matching cars with your rival was never given more media attention than a passing few lines in some articles? somehow, either nobody has asked about the fact that Thee most fractious relationship in contemporary f1 bought matching cars, or they DID ask and were effectively muzzled, which is telling in and of itself. and check the dates: 2016. 2016. 2016. 2020. 2021. they did not only keep this under wraps until mark retired and became a full time porsche #influencer. one of them is either STILL KEEPING IT UNDER WRAPS...

... or doesn't have the car at all.

does seb even own this porsche? why have we only heard of it from mark's mouth? there are so many articles on ~road cars f1 drivers own~ but none of them even mention seb having it. so what's the truth? did he never buy one and only tell mark he did? does it stay dusty under a cover in his garage, never to see the light of day? did he buy it and then immediately sell it/give it away after turkey? or because it was like, purposefully to match with mark, is it one of the things he's Sentimental about that he's viciously protective of and keeps out of the spotlight?

mark goes into detail and says that seb got a black porsche, so that must mean that it EXISTS? surely?? well, we take that for granted, but we may never actually know.

another thing: notice how in the Drive article, mark reportedly went to a uk dealership in person to order the car? if he and seb bought them together, does that mean they also went to the dealership... together? and if we take this to be true, does that then mean they physically went to a porsche dealership in the uk just weeks before they collided in turkey and their relationship tripped and fell off a cliff? or did they go separately in person, or did only mark go in person and seb order through connections?

yet another thing: in the "Mark Webber and his 911 GT2 RS" video linked above next to auto123, he drives a black 911 and seems to imply that the car is his: "i'm definitely not gonna be parting with this one." but the car is black. and he says he got a white one. WHAT? [EDIT: the one in the video may be the 2011 model and not the 2010 model he bought with seb]

AND ANOTHER THING TO NOTE: while the internet was surely a Widespread Phenomenon in 2010, there may very well have been printed news about the matching cars that never got digitally archived. unfortunately i do not have a time machine, so that's up in the air for now.

but that's it! that's everything we know about martian's matching porsches. i will be updating this post as more info comes to light, so if i've missed anything, pls let me know!

[she-walks-on-starlight]

Kiss of Death

a/n: This is Day 1! I will make a compilation of all these works at some point, watch this space - ✨

Pairing: Lae'zel x Fem!Reader

Prompt: Write about a first kiss

Warnings: swearing, blood, mild violence, mild threat, description of tasting blood.

Summary: Travelling with a stoic, broody Githyanki eliminates any chance of surprises... right?

Word Count: 997

The first time she kisses you, it takes you both by surprise. You were travelling the Risen Road, on your way to the Mountain Pass when you were cornered and set upon by a group of men and women demanding your valuables, and your lives.

The ensuing fight is a bloody one. Your attackers are well-armed and well-organised, a group of Zhentarim finally catching up with you, thirsting for revenge after finding you had not only killed one of theirs, Rugan, but also made off with the shipment he had been tasked with transporting. Turns out Zhentarim mercenaries hold one hell of a grudge.

Lae’zel welcomed the battle, unsheathing her gleaming greatsword with a piercing cry of “Htak'a!” and leapt into the fray, slashing, and stabbing in a deadly dance worthy of her heritage.

You were no stranger to a fight, not these days. Growing up on the streets of Baldur’s Gate had you learning to fight to survive before you even saw your tenth summer. You didn’t possess the same skill as Lae’zel but then few could match a Githyanki warrior trained in the ways of the blade practically from birth. You just thanked the Gods that she had chosen you as a worthy travelling companion, as she held a blatant disregard for most people she encountered.

You’re starting to tire, but you know you have to keep fighting. There’s no way you’re going down in a fight with these bastards, and you know Lae’zel will never forgive you if you give up.  You’re distracted by your own thoughts, a fatal mistake. The brute nearest you sweeps both your legs and you end up on your back, your blade knocked a few feet away. Useless.

The man chuckles, his eyes bright with malicious glee, raising his marred greataxe over his head. “This is for Rugan!”

You summon the last of your strength, leaning up and driving your elbow into his groin. “Fuck you!”

The man doubles over in pain, grunting angrily. His eyes blaze and he lunges forward, clasping hold of your throat. “I’ll kill you with my bare hands if I have to, whelp!”

“Hta'zith!”

The man’s eyes widen, and you feel warm, thick blood on your face. The blood is not yours; it is leaking from the man now slumping as life drains from him. The sharp tip of Lae’zel’s sword protrudes proudly from his chest. She does not move to help you up, instead she turns away to survey the now bloody scene in front of her, riddled with the fallen.

Jumping up, you dust yourself off, angling yourself away from Lae’zel as you surreptitiously check yourself for wounds. You discover a long, thin cut on your forearm that will likely close on its own in a few days. A gash just under your ribs presents a more pressing issue, but it can wait until you find a somewhat decent healer. You glance to the side, watching curiously as Lae’zel cleans her sword of blood in one sweep of her gloved hand.

Sighing, you retrieve your sword and sheath it, raising your voice so she can hear you. “Thank you. For the save. I didn’t see him, stupid really…”

You don’t get to finish your sentence because without warning, Lae’zel is towering over you, her expression unreadable. You swallow, unable to find your words and apparently you don’t need them because she grasps your collar roughly and brings your mouth to hers.

Her grip is tight and unyielding as she presses you against her, the cold plate of her armour clinking against your fraying chain shirt. Her scent envelops your senses, a rich blend of sweat, musk, and blood. Her kiss is dominating, and her teeth are sharp, every now and then nipping at your bottom lip as she deepens the kiss to claim you entirely. Her tongue enters and you know it is futile to even attempt to take control, so you allow her to have you, a low moan tearing from your throat as your body awakens from her fierce kiss. All too soon, she pulls way from you and busies herself with checking the corpses for anything that can be sold or put to good use.

You blink rapidly. “Why did you do that?”

Lae’zel stares at you blankly. “I find your form pleasing, especially in the throes of battle.”

You gulp, feeling a blush creep up your neck and colouring your cheeks. “I was hardly any good back there. You had to save me.”

Lae’zel nods. “It is true, your stance should not be broken so easily. Your balance requires more training, and you must learn to grip your weapon in such a way that you wield it with more force and cannot have it wrested from you.”

You hang your head, but grin sheepishly. “Good job I have you around to teach me, huh?”

Lae’zel cocks her head to the side, analysing you. “I will gladly impart my wisdom for battle unto you.” She steps into your space again, gripping your chin and forcing you to meet her gaze. “But I would have you hold your head high.”

You wonder if she will kiss you again, taking the time to admire her eyes, green emeralds flecked with bronze and gold, a more precious sight than any petty gem. She considers you for only a moment more before she returns her attention to looting. You join her, still reeling from the kiss. Once you have swept the area, you nod to Lae’zel and continue towards the Mountain Pass. She shakes her head.

“No. We make for the Emerald Grove. You are in need of healing.”

You sputter in protest. “We need to reach your crèche!”

She silences you with a look, a devious look in her eye. “If you are to withstand my plans for you this night, you must be healed and ready.”

You gulp again, suddenly feeling very hot. “Well then…in that case, to the Emerald Grove!”

[multi-lefaiye]

FFF #226: By Any Other Name

haven't participated in @flashfictionfridayofficial in a HOT fuckin minute, but i finally got a piece together that i like for a prompt that got me excited <3 posting on sunday bc no gods no masters teehee :3 (and because i was exhausted after work on friday)

this is about a specific oc, but i deliberately wrote it in a very... abstract way, for lack of a better way to put it. if you know who this is about, i would be genuinely surprised.

here we go!

Their Name is Death.

content warnings: non-graphic descriptions of violence and murder, including a specific mention of gun violence.

word count: 997

-

Their name is a shaky breath, a mother's comforting whisper to the squirming infant in her arms. It's a promise, to love and to protect for many years to come. A soft kiss to their downy forehead seals the deal, spreading warmth through their tiny form. Their life has just begun, and the road ahead is full of hope. The twinge of fear in her chest is easy to ignore.

Their name is a warning, spoken in a stern voice dry and exhausted from overuse. Curious feet on wobbly legs tumble through an exciting new world with hardly a care, all the while their mother follows behind. They don’t know yet that the world can be dangerous, and she fears the day they trip and fall. Her voice is harsh and sometimes frightening, but her intentions are noble (so she hopes, watching them falter and cower before her).

Their name is a prison, its thin, gilded bars stretching as far as the eye can see. They are protected from a world that wants to do them harm, but they’re trapped. Day by day, the lion paces their cell, eyeing their captors with thinly veiled contempt. Their mother tells them this is for the best. They disagree. The lion’s claws grow sharper.

Their name is a lucky break. A chance to see a world deprived from them. Sunlight streams through their spread fingers as wind ruffles their hair. There is a ferocity in the wild around them, but as they run barefoot through the trees they feel tenderness in each step. Outside of their cage, the world is alive, and their heart swells with confidence that they’ll never die.

Their name is familiarity. They meet a stranger, one with a light shining in his eyes and a gentle smile on his face. He speaks to them in the voice of an old friend, and the weary hand he offers them is sure and strong. They take his hand, and he pulls them to their feet. Behind them, the sun begins to set, casting shadows over the world. Over the stranger’s face.

Their name is a fatal mistake. A clawed hand closes around their neck, crushing their throat. The world around them is burning, flames reaching toward the sky with grasping tendrils of heat and destruction. They can’t breathe, they can’t see, they can’t hear. Nothing and everything falls to pieces around them, until suddenly it’s all over. Sharp, piercing agony blooms in their abdomen, and suddenly all is quiet. They fall to the earth, cradled in ash and dust.

Their name is lost. Weary eyes crusted with death slowly creak open, and they see that they are alone. The shards impaling their body are stained red, and their ribcage is hollow in a way it’s never been before. Slowly, they stand, feeling white hot static in their veins. The jagged tears in their flesh sluggishly knit themselves back together, and they stagger through the rubble. Each step is more sure than the last, but the hollow ache in their chest only grows. They’re alive, despite it all, but their heart is gone.

Their name is change. Years pass, and they grow stronger. Open wounds scab over until they become gnarled knots of scar tissue. They travel with a cloak around their shoulders and a hood hiding their face. Static remains in their veins. The world is no longer beautiful and nurturing, and they no longer see beauty in the life around them. Around them, seasons pass. Time marches on. They march on, too.

Their name is a leap of faith. His name is an opportunity. They meet on a rainy day, two strangers seeking shelter in the same rotting shed. Where they are all sharp edges and red-raw rashes, he is gentle, he is soft, and he is warm. He sits across from them, a small campfire between them, and speaks words of reassurance they haven’t heard in many years. They don’t trust him, but he takes no offense.

Their name is a friend. They meet the man several more times, always by chance. He greets them with respect, never pushing against their frayed and tattered nerves. After three meetings, they begin to seek him out, and he accepts them with ease every time. He shares his cloak with them, hands them a hunk of fresh bread. His hands are gentle as he holds their own, his eyes the color of a spring breeze. A new beginning blooms in the grass between them.

Their name is hope. His name is father. Between them is a child, only hours old, sleeping peacefully as the night fades into day. Their husband smiles at them both, at this little family cobbled together from spare parts and rusty nails. His arm is around them, holding them protectively. Lovingly. There is sunlight in the gaping hole in their chest.

Their name is a gunshot. A piercing, sudden, terrible sound. It echoes in the silence, ringing until their ears bleed. Their husband slumps to the ground, his spring-colored eyes lifeless and dull. Behind him, his killer steps back, grimacing as his blood begins to spill and seep into the moss. She doesn’t want it soaking into her shoes. She doesn’t spare a single glance to the family she destroyed as she turns, directing her followers to keep searching.

Their name is grief. All-consuming devastation that pulls them apart at the seams. The hole in their chest aches to be filled, now that their heart is a smear on the ground in front of them. Tears fall freely down their face as their son clings to them. Anger makes the tears hot, burning tracks of fire searing their skin. They stare at their husband’s body, then lift their head to look at his killer. Her back is to them. All at once, their grief becomes boiling hot rage.

Their name is devastation.

Their name is vengeance.

Their name is death.

Their name is all alone.

[latinotimdrake]

the rule is for every negative post I have to make a positive one so

batfamily fic recs that aren't just the same 5 white or whitewashed guys

amber-lit by Crystalinastar : Duke Thomas & the We Are Robin gang (Riko Sheridan, Isabella Ortiz, Daxton Chill, Andre Cipriani), AU, future fic, 1.3k words

In a world where Batman never returned and his family scattered, the We Are Robin movement has grown and become the city’s new protectors. Now older, they have a conversation around a kitchen counter.

do you ever think of me and my two hands by Le_tap_22 : Stephanie Brown, Talia al Ghul, Damian Wayne, character study, 681 words

Stephanie has never thought, and will never think, of Damian as her child. He’s a child, sure. Bruce’s child, Dick’s child, Talia’s child. But not hers. He’s her little asshole younger brother. But sometimes when she sits beside him— like now under the soft light of the sun shining through the curtain in the Manor’s library as she watches him write a letter to send to his mother— she feels a deep, almost indescribable emotion well up inside her. Not for him, but for Talia. Or, Damian and Stephanie sit together in the Manor’s library, two opposite halves of similar pictures.

Read These Roses by Kalinjdra : Tam Fox/Cassandra Cain, soulmate AU, 3.6k words

One of Tam's most prized possessions is a book on the language of flowers, that her father had gifted her in the third grade. The page for belladonna is wrinkled thin from how many times its been flipped open to, rhodohedron has had it's dog-eared corner torn off and and coriander sticks out from where it had been slightly torn off out of the binding. Boneset has long since fallen out and remains taped to the inside of the binding. These are the flowers of pain and grief.

A House Divided by Capucine : Cassandra Cain, Batgirl #19 canon divergence, 997 words

Batgirl does not condone killing. When a murderer is scheduled to be executed, this principle is put to the test--and the aftermath of her decision will change everything.

gotham city, 2021 by pendulum_north : Minhkhoa Khan, Bao Pham, Cassandra Cain, hurt/comfort, 2.3k words

The boy was shaking, practically vibrating out of his skin, when Minhkhoa had found him, tucked himself away in dark recesses of the half-constructed building.

not mutually exclusive by majorlachdown : Duke Thomas & Bruce Wayne, hurt/comfort, grief/mourning, 4k words

Bruce turned to properly face Duke. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you were awake, but if you want to talk now….” Duke groaned, falling back onto the pillows. “Aren’t you supposed to be the emotionally constipated adult who just leaves things alone?” “I’m trying this new thing out,” Bruce said dryly, “where I try to be supportive of emotionally constipated children.” (Duke is kinda going through it. He has to accept he doesn't have to go through it alone.)

Dance by rakketyrivertam : Cassandra Cain, character study, half drabble, 50 words

Cassandra, described.

necessary reminders by Quillium : Duke Thomas, character study, 5.1k words

Duke, as Signal becomes known and as Duke becomes part of the Wayne family.

Like Father by Wisetypewriter : Sasha, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, 3.1k words

Jason, Dick privately recalled, was ironically the one that took after Bruce's adoption addiction the most.

Note: this one does have equal parts for Jason and Dick, but it's about Sasha and I really like how it follows up on her character. She is heavily defined by her relationship with Jason in canon, and I like what this fic does with that.