#juggling gloving

[weheartstims]

Can you make a board of David Bowie as the Goblin King from the movie Labyrinth? :-)

Jareth the Goblin King (Labyrinth) with goth stims and contact juggling!

🔮|⬛️|🔮 ⬛️|🔮|⬛️ 🔮|⬛️|🔮

[dndtreasury]

Gloves of Juggling

[dollyichi]

YOUR BIGGEST FAN!

pro-hero katsuki bakugou x actress f ! reader ᯓ★ he finds out who the main admin is of his biggest fan page. 1.4k words. fluff / established relationship / not proofread / little smau at the end

spin-off from ‘a little mystery never hurt anybody’ [m—dni]

katsuki never cared about his image at all. nor did he care about what people post about him online. aside from his own beliefs, he only cares about what you think, and if you think he’s ‘fucking cool’ then he’s fucking cool.

he only ever checks social media and posts something that you’re a part of. if he had the chance to have all his platforms with a picture of you both or even just you, he’d do it—but you would scold him and tell him that he should just have a photo of himself. which you had to do instead since he’s stubborn and wouldn’t know what photo would look the best.

well fortunately for you, who has an album of pictures of him whether you took it yourself to gate-keep, from his fan sites, or his modeling / commercial projects just picked one portrait that would match his overall style. not too much, not too zoomed out, but still would exude that cool side that you loved so much.

and the moment you changed his profile you’re already switching to your verified fan account to notify your followers of his new profile photo. multiple notifications spawn at your lockscreen, the tweet already blew up too.

your co-admins don’t even know that it was the ‘dazzling actress y/n’ running the account in the first place, and it was for the better. you always had this account the moment katsuki was in his third year in UA. usually posting threads about how amazing of a hero he is, or his rankings in the recent fan polls such as ‘hottest hero’ or ‘most powerful rookie hero quirks!’ and your favorite, ‘heroes i wanna get in bed with.’ just from that, anyone other than you knowing your identity would be real bad.

pro-hero dynamight always had a loyal fanbase anyway. and you were always the first account they’d come to for any news on him.

when you started dating you had to ask for some help which is why you had some of your followers (who have been supporting your blog for so long too!) to assist you when you couldn’t post as frequently as you used to. it was easy to juggle the fan account while you were starting as an actress, but when you started dating katsuki, manning the page is a big challenge. he’ll definitely find out in no time since personal space was thrown out the window when you became his.

you wanted to keep it a secret since you were still such a big fan and it felt like a waste deleting the account since you worked so hard on it—pouring so much passion on it despite being with the main source. there were even times when you begged your staff to get him to sign your merch, which you happily post on the fan page too, wearing thick gloves because you figured katsuki would recognize you immediately.

sometimes you would slip and mess up. your co-admin posting about katsuki taking a photo of your new digital billboard by the station. and you accidentally quoted the tweet on your fan page that reads ‘he really likes me~’ and you immediately take it down before the viewer count goes up.

it was a very close call, and when someone did ask you about it since some of them had notifications on for your account you just made up an excuse like ‘i mean y/n! sorry it was a typo.’

sometimes you’d get katsuki to look at the fan page when you both have free time. and he only ever likes the tweets when it involved you. like when you’re both spotted on a date, or a quote from an interview of him promoting your own projects.

you begged him to follow and he didn’t really think that much of it. shrugging and pressing the button and going back to indulging himself beside you.

you never really post any updates on the pro-hero that’s related to you though. and when you do find out about it, you had your co-admins to thank. especially for that one video clip of him struggling to take a picture of another billboard you had in the middle of the city.

until one day, the two of you were apart for a bit. he was out on a mission, and it’s sad that he couldn’t spend the first few days of your break with you.

nonetheless, you are currently working with his fan sites near the area for some updates on him at the time. you end up missing him too much when they send you the photos in your direct messages. though, “he looks really good,” you think to yourself. up in the air with that pretty grin of his whenever he wins.

on your fan page you always have that certain ‘watermark’ when you make a post. ending the tweet with ‘admin ⭐️💥’ to indicate that it was you posting.

quickly, you make a new post about his new feat, scheduling to have it posted on the next day.

you didn’t think much of it, just happy that your boyfriend was safe and he could come home earlier to you.

when you wake up, katsuki’s already back home seated on his side of the bed. but what was unusual was for him to be on his phone this early. concerned, you reach out to him, hoping there wasn’t an emergency or anything bad that happened.

then he starts laughing that goofy laugh of his that you love. which gets you to giggle yourself, “what’s so funny?” you give him a kiss on his cheek as a morning greeting. it’s nice waking up to him so happy, until you feel your own face drop in horror on the screen.

it was your tweet, with that exact format that you always used—not on your fan page, but at your own main account with already thousands of engagement. you feel yourself sink in your spot on the bed.

you did it now, you knew you shouldn’t be posting when you’re sleepy. now you fucked up, big time. you don’t even want to know the replies on that post, and you couldn’t even face your boyfriend who’s already crying from laughing so hard.

“you’re such a dumbass no wonder you kept pestering me about this fan account.”

you groan, hiding yourself under the covers. you couldn’t even imagine what’s going to become of you and how your manager’s going to react. it’s not like you could just abandon your following either! “it’s different as a fan!”

you take your phone from the bedside table and delete the tweet immediately. it’s been 30 minutes after you scheduled it, but there’s nothing you could even do to remedy the mistake. not when thousands have already seen your tweet. you don’t even know how to tell your co-admins who probably found out your real identity.

“just kill me!” you say, wrapping the comforter around you which leaves nothing for him anymore. he puts his phone down and wraps an arm on you. “don’t be so fuckin’ embarrassed babe. if it helps i’m your number one fan too.”

you won’t budge, staying still in your self made blanket burrito with a pout. facing away from him and with a huff. you were so embarrassed that your whole body freezes, and your mind goes blank. “hey come on, i’m happy about it!” you hear him say.

you could already feel the scoldings of your manager, you just hope this is mainly good publicity if it resurfaces—because you’re damn sure a lot of your shared fans are going to spread it all over the net.

“don’t fuckin’ ignore me babe! i’m really damn flattered here!” and he’s laughing again. he really couldn’t take it seriously, and you really wish this was just a really bad dream. it’s not like you wanted to keep it a secret forever! but you didn’t think he’d find out this way, bummer.

he pulls you on top of him, kissing all over your pouting face that’s sticking out from the thick comforter. “ah fuck this is so good! i bet when we get married you’re just on your phone posting live updates or some shit.”

you’re never going to hear the end of this. especially not when he digged a little deeper and found your ‘thirst’ postings from years ago. oh well, at least he knows you’ve always loved him. it was honestly such an ego boost learning his girlfriend just ‘as obsessed’ as he is towards you. besides, his page was almost a fan page of you in itself. whatever, you’re gonna laugh it off next week anyway.

at least you’ve given him another new thing that has him head over heels for you again.

bonus!

do not copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost my works

note : aaaaa this was so funny to me idk T^T it’s really stupid

[solxamber]

Romance Clichés with: Riddle Rosehearts

Cliché: The Grand Romantic Gesture

Others: Leona ; Azul ; Vil ; Kalim ; Idia ; Jamil

The moment you decided to court Riddle Rosehearts, you knew you had to bring your A-game. And by A-game, you meant memorizing all 810 laws of the Queen of Hearts.

Did anyone ask you to? No.

Did anyone want you to? Probably not.

But that didn’t matter. What mattered was Riddle noticing you.

The first rule you put into practice was Rule 178: "When presenting flowers, they must be in groups of three, six, or nine." So, naturally, you showed up at Heartslabyul one day holding a perfectly arranged bouquet of nine red roses.

"For you," you said, holding them out with a bow that lingered precisely three seconds, no more, no less (Rule 12).

Riddle blinked, his face shifting from neutral to the faintest pink. “You— You’re following the rules?”

“Of course,” you replied smoothly. “I wouldn’t dare present flowers improperly to the Heartslabyul Dorm Leader.”

Cater whistled from somewhere behind him. Trey raised a brow. Riddle, meanwhile, looked like he might short-circuit.

“W-Well, good,” he managed, clutching the roses like they were something sacred. “It’s refreshing to see someone with proper manners.”

You grinned, internally high-fiving yourself. Step one: complete.

You’d researched extensively for your next move. Rule 47: “A surprise tea party must include the guest bringing their own cup and saucer.”

When Riddle called an impromptu tea party, you arrived armed with not only a cup and saucer but a tiny tray of perfectly portioned sweets, arranged in compliance with Rule 290: “Desserts served at tea parties must be bite-sized and arranged symmetrically.”

The silence as you set them on the table was deafening.

Trey looked mildly impressed. Cater snapped a picture. Riddle, on the other hand, stared at you like you’d just recited Shakespeare in iambic pentameter while juggling teacups.

“You…” He cleared his throat. “You’ve been studying the rules?”

“Of course,” you said, taking your seat and stirring your tea exactly three times counterclockwise (Rule 723). “It’s only proper.”

“I—Yes, well—” His ears turned bright red as he took a bite of one of your desserts. “You’ve done well,” he muttered, almost too quietly to hear.

You didn’t miss the way his gaze lingered on you for the rest of the tea party.

By the time you hit Rule 810—“A declaration of admiration must be made with precision, sincerity, and a token of affection”—Riddle was this close to losing it.

You didn’t plan to deploy it that day. You were just practicing it in your head when you ran into him at the rose garden. He was inspecting the flowers, his brows furrowed in that way that somehow made him even cuter.

“Rule 810,” you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

Riddle turned to you, confused. “What?”

Crap. No turning back now.

You cleared your throat, stepping closer. “Rule 810 states that a declaration of admiration must be precise, sincere, and accompanied by a token of affection.” You pulled a small, hand-embroidered handkerchief from your pocket. It was decorated with roses and a tiny “R” stitched in the corner.

You held it out to him, your hands only trembling slightly. “I… I’ve memorized all the rules because I wanted to court you properly. Because I admire you. And because—well—because I love you.”

Riddle’s mouth opened, then closed. His face turned such a bright shade of red that you worried he might actually faint.

“You—” His voice cracked, and he quickly cleared his throat. “You… love me?”

“Yes,” you said, letting out a nervous laugh. “Honestly, after memorizing 810 rules for you, I don’t think I could possibly love anyone else.”

Riddle stared at you, his gloved hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. For a moment, you thought he might actually explode. Then, all at once, he stepped forward, took the handkerchief, and pressed it to his chest like it was something priceless.

“I—” He took a shaky breath. “You’re absolutely ridiculous.”

You blinked. “I—what?”

“Who memorizes 810 rules for someone?” he said, his voice rising slightly. “You’re—You’re maddening! Impossible! Utterly—” He cut himself off, taking another breath before meeting your gaze.

“…And yet, I can’t imagine anyone else doing something so utterly… thoughtful.”

You felt your heart leap into your throat as his expression softened. “You’ve done all this for me,” he continued, his voice quieter now. “And I… I’d be a fool not to accept such a heartfelt gesture.”

“So… is that a yes?” you asked, trying (and failing) not to grin.

Riddle’s blush deepened, but he nodded. “Yes.”

And then, to your utter shock, he stepped closer, reaching for your hand. “But I hope you realize,” he said, a small smile tugging at his lips, “that now I’ll expect you to uphold all the rules of the Queen of Hearts from now on.”

You laughed, your heart feeling lighter than it had in weeks. “I wouldn’t dream of doing otherwise.”

Masterlist

[hanasnx]

MINORS DNI 18+

BLACK NOIR wants you overstimulated and fucked out. When you’re as mute as he is, he calls it a win. Any choked, quiet sounds that emit from your mouth is a fucking symphony to his ears because he knows you’re too stupid to think of anything else to say.

When you’re clutching onto the sheets, drooling all over the covers from your gaping mouth suspended in mind-numbing pleasure while he rails you from behind; when you bury your little face into the mattress to scream, louder with each thrust, as he steadies you with a glove on your tailbone: He knows he’s got you. You’re his.

He picks up his foot to settle it on the edge of the bed, standing behind you tucked between your legs, plowing into you from an angle a few degrees difference and you’re fucking writhing. The sensational friction is all too much to bear, the wet chorus of your pussy nearly as loud as your mewling. He presses down on the dimples of your backside, yanking you back onto his cock, only to bounce your ass on his hips with the force of his push. He’s fucking juggling you on him, and all you can do is bang your fist against the mattress to release some of that energy.

You wish you could tell him that it’s so much, almost too much. Your eyes are rolling into the back of your head while your cunt’s being bullied into submission. Fat cock drives into your insides with reckless abandon and it hurts in such a good way. A warning hand reaches behind you, signaling him to slow down.

But he knows if you really wanted him to slow down, you wouldn’t be laying down taking it like the slut you are.

[doumadono]

MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST

💥Late one night, while heading home, you realized someone was tailing you. Your pace quickened, and eventually, you broke into a run, with your pursuer doing the same.

💥Running in fear, you accidentally crashed into a solid chest. Gazing upward, you recognized the face of the pro hero Bakugo Katsuki, also known as Dynamight.

💥He noticed your scared expression and asked, "What's wrong?"

💥You shared what happened, and he handled it.

💥"Come on, doll, I'll walk you home," he said after handling the person following you.

💥You and boxer!Bakugo have been dating for a while ever since. Despite being quite different, things just clicked between you two.

💥He used his limited free time to train and get stronger, while you worked as a sidekick in a pro hero's agency.

💥He was well-known in town, and folks often wondered how a timid girl like you ended up with someone as tough and dangerous as Bakugo.

💥He was the best part of your life - your tough, strong, beefy boyfriend, and your cuddle buddy at the same time.

💥You weren't exactly a fan of his boxing hobby, but you still supported him.

💥After each fight, he'd return home victorious, winning every time. But, along with the victories, he'd also bring back cuts, bruises, and a heap of pent-up frustration.

💥Seeing him so broken broke your heart; the pain weighed heavier on you than on him. You'd carefully treat his wounds, bruises, and cuts, gently asking about his fights and questioning if he's certain about pursuing his side career while also juggling daily hero duties.

💥"I'm good, doll. No need to fret," he'd reassure you as you cared for his injuries. "I enjoy boxing. It's quite calming." Honestly, for a strong guy like him, the cuts and bruises weren't that painful. Still, he allowed you to care for his injuries because it warmed him to know his girl cared so much.

💥Boxer!Bakugo enjoys hitting the boxing gym regularly for training; it keeps him toned and in impeccable shape, ready to effortlessly pursue villains.

💥One day, you decide to visit the boxing gym Bakugo frequents five times a week. After finishing your shift, you enter the gym. A friendly lady at the reception offers help, but you decline, explaining that you're just here to see your boyfriend.

💥You see him right away; there's no mistaking him. He's wearing a snug, black tank top highlighting his muscular torso and six-pack, paired with dark grey sweatpants. Black boxing gloves adorn his hands, and a black bandana secures his hair, keeping it away from his intense crimson eyes.

💥You perk up hearing Katsuki's grunts as he throws punches and kicks at the heavy bag. Watching your boyfriend train gets you all excited. A quiet sigh escapes you as you notice sweat trickling down his forehead and nose, dripping to his neckline, and running under his black tank top. You bite your lower lip - he looks oh so fuckable.

💥Spotting you, he grabs a towel, mops his sweaty face, and strides to the edge of the boxing ring. "Hey, doll, what brings you here?"

💥You confess that you wanted to watch him train to get a better grasp of his world. Surprisingly, you admit you never realized how deeply he was immersed in the whole boxing thing.

💥He chuckles, "Yep, been telling you, doll. Okay, I guess that's all for today. Come, I need to change."

💥You follow Bakugo into a locker room after he assures you it's fine and no one will mind. The desires become too intense, and he pushes you against the door, shutting it firmly.

💥Protest? Not a chance. You just let out a little yelp as he catches you off guard.

💥His lips meet yours forcefully, his hands gripping your waist. You reach to remove his bandana and run your fingers through his hair.

💥Simply sharing these heated kisses with you ignites a fervor in boxer!Bakugo; he feels hornier than a teenager.

💥As he removes your snug uniform pants from your legs and casually kicks them away, his calloused finger slips in you, slowly stretching you out. You unfasten the top part of your uniform, slip it off your shoulders, then pull your arms back to peel your tight sports bra off, freeing your breasts; they bounce after being released.

💥Bakugo places wet kisses all around your exposed chest, his tongue poking out and flicking over your hardened buds as he slips another digit in you, stretching you out.

💥At that moment, you're already a moaning mess, and all of your shyness flew out of the window.

💥Bakugo emits a low growl as he senses the dampness seeping into his training sweatpants as he slips a third finger into your tight, wet hole, fucking you relentless, using his thumb to massage your clitoris. Boxer!Bakugo feels himself getting painfully hard as his cock twitches within his pants.

💥He withdraws his fingers, and there's an extra string of your wetness covering his thick digits. "Mmmm, look at ya, doll," he cooes, "already soaked, just for me."

💥Bakugo pulls down his sweatpants and boxers at one go, allowing them to pool around his ankles.

💥You yank his tight tank top off, revealing a muscular torso covered in sweat.

💥Bakugo uses the slick leftover on his hand from fingering you to lube up his rock-hard cock.

💥Gazing downward at the red tip leaking pre cum, a moan escapes your lips as you endeavor to press against his pelvis with a subtle grind as if to slide his cock in yourself already.

💥Boxer!Bakugo leans in, finally gliding the engorged tip of his dick along your dripping hole, which is clenching around nothing now.

💥He finally enters you, stretching you deliciously, and you clench around him blissfully, making him groan.

💥He promptly thrusts into you with a vigorous rhythm, yearning for the melody of your sweet moans, the snug embrace of your thighs, and the gentle contractions of your velvety walls enclosing his hard cock. Lifting you effortlessly, you instinctively coil your legs around his hips, securing your ankles behind him as your thighs press against his sides.

💥While he's fucking you, he begins uttering the most lewd words into your ear. "Yea, you like that, don't ya, doll?”; "Yea, baby, squeeze me tighter, give it to me, give it all to me!”; “Fuck, it feels so fucking good, doll.”

💥As you start moaning like a whore, Bakugo skillfully places his fingers into your mouth, a move aimed at tempering the volume of your pleasure-filled noises as you continue to moan around them.

💥You're uttering incoherent words and moans around his fingers — part desperate pleas, part unintelligible expressions —as he relentlessly fucks your tiny cunt.

💥As your cunny clench tighter around his throbbing cock, he withdraws his fingers from your mouth and descends them to firmly stimulate your clit.

💥“Yes! Please, Katsy! Right there, right there!" you moan like a cheap whore, trying to roll your hips for more friction.

💥You're trembling and convulsing as he feels you cream all over his throbbing cock. Bakugo emits a loud moan at the sensation and can't resist following suit, filling your swollen, abused pussy to the brim with his warm, thick cum. Yet, he doesn't cease there; oh, not at all.

💥With his cock still inside you, and with the mix of your cums dripping out of your pussy and down your thighs, Bakugo initiates a more rapid and vigorous rubbing against your swollen clit than in the previous instance.

💥"Come on, darling, one more for me. I know you've got it in you. Just one more. I've been fucking missing for you all day, doll."

💥Your mouth hangs agape as pleasure consumes you, drool trickling from the corner of your parted lips. "K-Kats!"

💥Katsuki spits on his hand and moves it down where you both are still conjoined, intensifying your arousal; the slick is dripping from you onto the floor as he continues to rub your wet, glistening folds.

💥You release a slight cry as you gush and squirt on his cock, spraying and covering his abdomen with the wetness; some of your juices is trickling onto the floor.

💥"Yes, doll, I knew you had it in you. Show me more, unleash everything you've got," he chuckled with a dark undertone.

💥He swiftly becomes hard once more, and thrusts in you at an unrelenting pace; occasional droplets of slick juices are squirting out of you and landing on his toned abs.

💥Boxer!Bakugo is chasing his second orgasm, basically using you as his own fucktoy; his hold is firm around your waist, and he effortlessly brings you up and down on his throbbing dick, his hips pistoning into yours.

💥At this stage, your juices are beyond control - every thrust Bakugo gives is met by a gush of your wetness, creating a pool on the floor. "Kats! Kats! O-Oh! OH! Fuuuck!"

💥Bakugo halts abruptly, executing a series of preliminary thrusts before you feel his warm cum shoot into your abused pussy once more.

💥You cry out, tears streaming down your flushed cheeks, as Bakugo gently lowers your feet to the ground.

💥After he pulls his flaccid dick out of you, the blend of your cums trickles down your trembling thighs.

💥"You did so well f'me, doll," he whispered before kissing you again. "Well, looks like we both could use a shower. Fuck, you've worn me out more than a hardcore training session, doll."

[omedapixel]

MORE DEBUG OBJECTS

By poular demand, here are the rest of the prop and miscellaneous objects enabled for decorating! I don't have any pics right now, but the full list of objects is below the cut, and each package is merged by expansion pack.

As with my other debug objects, these can all be found under DEBUG > MISC. The catalog names are often something weird, because I haven't edited or added any strings.

These objects are technically not CC, it just allows you to access and decorate with objects that are already in game. Therefore you can uninstall these overrides, share worlds and lots using them, and they'll still remain wherever you've placed them.

Also, if you have a default replacement for any of these props, for example a plate default, then the object will also be updated to reflect that.

I highly reccomment using this in conjunction with my S3DT mod, since some of the objects are half sunk into the ground by default.

DOWNLOAD HERE

Object List Below

BASE GAME:

Guitar Case

Amplifier

Bottle Spigot (unused asset)

Child Ladle

Child Mixing Bowl

Cutting Board (slots do no work, unfortunately)

Fire Extinguisher

Fire Poker

Fire Lighter

Hammer

Bartending Bottle Prop

Ice Cream Cone

Microwave Meal

Paper Plate

Screwdiver

Sponge

Toilet Brush

Wedding Ring

Wrench

WORLD ADVENTURES:

Canteen

Chopsticks

Dig Site Brush

Flour Bag

Fortune Cookie

Map (looks like plain parchment)

Nectar Glass

Nectar Tray

Pamphlet

Pickaxe

Pungi (snake charming instrument)

AMBITIONS:

Chisel

Fire Axe

Blowtorch

Chainsaw

Detonator

Gnubb Bunny

Gnubb King

Junk Pipe Piece

Magnifying Glass

Notepad

Shovel

Tape Measure

Tattoo Gun

Triangle Ruler

Walkie Talkie

LATE NIGHT:

Drink Shaker

Drumstick

Party Glass

Round Party Glass

Bartending Bottle Prop

Juice Can

GENERATIONS:

Envelope

Love Letter Envelope

Cheap RAM Disk

Expensive RAM Disk

Beaker

Rolled Diploma

Flashlight

Game Controller

Greeting Card

Round Flask

Sparkling Juice (champagne)

PETS:

Hoofpick

Adult Pitchfork

Child Pitchfork

Plastic Pet Food Bowl

Cat Hunting Chip Bag

Cat Hunting Feather

Cat Hunting Leaf

Dog Treat

Foal Bottle

Horse Brush

Litter Scoop

Pet Brush

Stick (for playing fetch)

Freezer Bunny Ice Cream

Kitty Litter Pile

Rainbow Ice Cream

(forgot to do the chocolate ice cream, sorry!)

SHOWTIME:

CD Case

Record

Golf Ball

Juggling Pin

Microphone (grey)

Snack Bowl

Headphones

Golf Club Average

Golf Club Expert

Golf Club Old

Firefly Jar

FireflyJar Lid

Juggling Knife

Magician Sword

SUPERNATURAL:

Fly Swatter

White Glove

Bonehilda Key

Alchemy Bowl

Alchemy Package

Beehive Smoker

SEASONS:

Horseshoe

Child Rake

Adult Rake

Barista Bar Cup

Egg Hunt Basket

Trick or Treat Basket

Carving Knife

Fruit Punch

Hot Beverage Cup

Stack of Hot Dogs

Love Letter

Pie (from eating contest)

Snow Cone Syrup

Soccer Ball

Tissue

Spooky Day Candy

UNIVERSITY:

Clipboard

Red Juice Cup

Art Scanner

Bonfire Logs

Candy Bar

Cold One

College Letter

Energy Drink

Manilla Envelope

Macot Plushy

Ping Pong Ball

Ping Pong Paddle

Mistletoe (unused asset)

Protest Banners (3 versions)

Protest Flyer

Smartphone

Soda Can

Paint Sray Can

Suitcase

Whiteboard Eraser

Whiteboard Marker

ISLAND PARADISE:

Broom

Coconut Drink

Cold Beverage

Grim Reaper Trident

Pineapple Drink

Rescue Tube

Glass Bottle Pool Bar

Pool Bar Juice Can

INTO THE FUTURE:

Microphone (black)

OIl Puddle

Stardust

Paper Bag

[wwaheoh]

“Falling Asleep on The Job” - Victoria Housekeeping x gnReader (Platonic)

Alexandrina Sebastiane, Corin Wickes, Ellen Joe, Von Lycaon

a/n: writing this at 2 am but unlike the reader, i dont have a ghost milf to be there when i wake up...

As the newest member of Victoria Housekeeping, it had been a bit of a shaky transition. Still in high school, you’ve had to juggle your studies, hobbies, and your part time job all at once, it was a lot to hold on to- not even mentioning any extracurriculars or social life you might have.

So, all in all, pretty stressful. Especially now, coming back from your break, it seemed like the teachers were all trying to one-up each other on how many pages of homework they’d give. It had all begun to affect your wellbeing, always trying your best to give it your all, hours of studying began to dig into your sleep time.

An hour or two into the night began to become going to sleep at 4 AM or even just not sleeping at all and staying up through energy drinks.

After a particularly hard week- where you hadn’t slept at all last night and barely slept the day before that, you finally broke.

Shadows under your eyes, sweaty arms, twitchy hands, legs that felt like lead, and a light pressure on your forehead. You had been put on shift to help clean up a house, the usual stuff, thankfully nothing with any underlying “help” required.

As you were sweeping dust off a windowsill, you began to feel the familiar wave of tiredness wash over you. Muscles felt exhausted, a yawn threatening to escape you. Deciding to sit on a nearby chair to rest a little, you began to be lulled into a deep slumber. Head bobbing, eyelids drooping down- a desperate but ultimately futile attempt at staying awake.

And then you conked out.

Slowly you woke up, blur in your eyes that you had to blink away a few times before your vision cleared. You were turned horizontally- actually you weren’t where you had accidentally fallen asleep in the first place!

Immediately you rushed to get up, “Oh shi-!” before a mature, warm voice softly hushed you, a gloved hand slowly drifted you back down and set your head down on something soft.

Looking up, you saw Ms. Sebastiane looking down on you, a soft smile on her face as she pet your hair. From the lighting of the room, it was clear some time had passed. Meaning that you’d fallen asleep on the job.

“I-I’m so sorry Miss!” You let out, mortified at having fallen asleep- especially with how often housekeeping wasn’t the only thing Victoria Housekeeping did. Something terrible could have happened- and while there were other members of the company here, you would have been a liability.

“It’s okay dear,” She started with her usual caring tone, “You’ve been pretty out of it recently, Ms. Ellen told us of how your shared academics might be affecting your quality of life.” Her hands brushed softly against your hair, a spell of sleep beginning to overtake you once more. “It’s not wrong to ask for some time off, your health matters most.”

“Go back to sleep, I shall awake you once it is time for us to head back.”

You relaxed, her lap being used as a pillow as she let you sleep until it was time to go back home.

Something soft underneath the side of your head, you were lying down now- different to how you slept. Oh! You fell asleep! Quickly rushing to get up with a few expletives, a timid voice called out to you, “Uhm! You don’t need to get up!”

Looking at the source of the voice, you realized that you had fallen asleep on the job, leaving your coworker, Corin, all by her lonesome. Or at least on this side of the premises.

“Ah, I’m so sorry Corin!” You quickly tried to fix the couch you had been moved to, arranging the pillows and patting the cushions to make it seem as if no one had been sleeping on it.

“N-no! It’s fine!” You turned to her, confused but hopeful that she wasn’t just saying that to calm you down. “Uhm, I heard about how school’s been pretty tough, Ellen- I mean no one told us how it might be affecting you. You can rest for now! I’ll uhm, wake you up when I need help!”

You were thankful for her, worried that she’d be angry that you basically ditched her for sleep. Of course she probably wouldn't be that angry- she never got mad at Ellen whenever she slept on the job, but it was still a thought in the back of your head. Nodding, you sat back onto the couch as the feeling of drowsiness began to take hold again.

“Sweet uhm, dreams!” Corin whispered, worried that it wasn’t the right thing to say or not in the right context.

Slowly waking, you were still vertically sleeping, however where you had fallen asleep had changed. Quickly you got up, looking around for an indication of the time or Ellen, your coworker- and classmate, who you were partnered with for this part of the premises. It didn’t seem like she was around, but that begged the question of who moved you…

“Oi,”, You nearly yelped as you quickly turned to the person you hadn’t noticed, “Don’t move so fast… you woke me up.”

It.. seemed Ellen had the same problem you did, it made sense, the both of you did share multiple classes.

“Uhm-” “If you’re worried about waking up before the client gets here, don’ worry, I’ll wake you up.” “Oh! Uh, thank you.” “Mm…”

She promptly fell right back to sleep, with you following shortly after.

Slowly your eyes blinked open. You felt as if you just had the best sleep of your life. A soft pillow under your head, a warm blanket covering you, a homey scent of a candle nearby. Oh my gods you fell asleep at work and were acting like you were at home- hell even better than home.

You began to scramble out of this makeshift bed before a gloved hand firmly set itself on your shoulder. Turning to the owner, your heart stopped as you came face to face with your boss.

Quickly tears began to form at the edge of your eyes, mortification at having fallen asleep on the job and waking up in front of your boss. A therian that prided themselves on keeping a professional atmosphere and providing top-notch service to their “Master”s.

“I- I’m so-”

“Shh.. it’s of no trouble.”

God, was he going to fire you after this?

“No, I will not. Please, I’ve been informed of your recent academics and how they might be affecting your work-life balance.” He interrupted any other thoughts you might have had, as if he were reading your mind. “While I prefer you not to fall asleep while we are keeping the home of our Masters, I won’t be upset for minor inconvenience.” His voice was warm, deep, with a voice that seemed to lull you back to sleep.

“Now rest, I will awake you once the Master is due to arrive.”

[djkerr]

TGW 03x18 Gloves Come Off

[radioactive-mouse]

I get how tempting it is to just label flower husbands as “toxic” and move on, but god they can be SO much more nuanced than that, it makes me insane.

I think something that goes largely unexplored by the fanbase is c!scott’s obsession with composure. he’s clearly very proud of his ability to stay calm under pressure and be two steps ahead of everyone else— not that he’s afraid to rely on people, him and cleo very clearly have that unshakable trust between them, but i think that sometimes he gets so wrapped up in being steady, reliable scott, never hot-headed, never spiteful, or clumsy, or nervous.

and jimmy is a very real threat to that composure, more often than not.

and i think the way their relationship functions in 3rd life, while steady at the time, definitely set them up for complications down the road. scott, for as fiercely dedicated to his allies as he is, kind of tends to handle jimmy with kid gloves for the earlier parts of their relationship. he’s not very good at the death game, but that’s fine, he doesn’t need to be, scott will take care of it— he’ll get them set up with armor and potions and walls and jimmy can do… whatever it is he does when scott’s not around. mostly getting swindled, if he had to guess. but it’s fine, because scott can be steady, level headed, clever—

i do think most of scott’s ribbing about how he doesn’t know why he lets jimmy do anything when all he does is get scammed half the time is genuinely all in good fun, (jimmy is more than happy to play the fool most of the time, if only to bring a little bit of levity to things) it is super symptomatic of the way scott actually thinks about him. i don’t believe he thinks jimmy is actually stupid or anything, but i do think scott doesn’t quite trust him to get anything done. scott would never in a million years let himself lean on jimmy for any kind of support, because in scott’s mind jimmy’s job is to be bright and brash and only listen to that heart of his that’s too big for his body, too big for this game.

and i think too often we forget just how much losing jimmy destroyed scott in 3rd life. you ever think about how wrecked he must’ve been to place 10th despite being a consistent finalist in every other season? do you think about how all he has left is the burning, white-hot urge for revenge from the second jimmy’s body hit the ground?

i don’t think scott ever wants to feel like that again. i don’t think scott wants anyone to see him like that again. i think scott tries very hard to love jimmy from a safe distance where no one gets hurt. and i think that distance fucking kills jimmy, metaphorically speaking.

(also, tangentially related, i think there’s something to be said for how instantly tango goes “we only have a short time together, your curse will probably get us killed, and that’s fine.” and how jealous scott gets of that sentiment. as far as scott is concerned, tango and jimmy are of the same niche— they feel everything, loudly, even if it causes problems and even if it gets messy. and god that just makes his blood boil.)

i’m just so… entranced with the way scott carries himself with so much confidence and it’s not like he’s insecure, he really believes that, he’s a strong player and he knows that, but also revealing any emotion he deems to be “ugly” or “messy” makes him start to completely unravel. the driving force behind him is always love and loyalty and protectiveness over the people he cares about, but he’s juggling that with being dead set on never getting so close that losing them will completely ruin him.

anyway, this is getting away from me, but i think a lot of jimmy’s frustration with scott comes from the fact that he refuses to let their relationship go both ways, and i think by the time of the infamous “say i love you back” scene in limlife he’s just exhausted with throwing himself repeatedly against scott’s brick wall of perfectionism. that, and the whole Situation between them in double life, which i could honestly make it’s own post but good god i need to STOP typing or this will go on forever. forgive my completely disorganized ramblings i just have been trying to get all this down on paper FOREVER

[leviathanleva]

Daisy

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Fem Reader [DARK FIC]

Description: Cooper Howard was not a kind man, he cared for nobody, but himself. Then he found you, a lost little dove, barefoot and crying, torn dress and big innocent eyes staring at him like he was a hero. He knew you’d be a burden, he knew you couldn’t survive in the wasteland, he was doing you a favor.

But he couldn’t pull the fucking trigger...

........................

[Minor Violence, Non-consensual Choking]

[5.4k words]

🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼

Chapter 2 "The Proposition"

You wanted to say something desperately, but your mouth came dry and empty and you promptly closed it to avoid any stray specs of sand. Your neck ached from having to keep it so profoundly craned just to hold eye contact and avoid the gun from pressing against your Adam’s apple.

His boots sunk in the dune as he juggled his weight tantalizingly, prowling in front of you and looking like he was ready to pounce. He was staring at you like you weren’t even human and it made sense because he didn’t look like one. The sun scratched at your exposed shoulders and upper back, hair pooled over your face and breasts and no longer acting as a shield for your delicate skin. It hurt, it burned, your flesh felt like it was cooking on a barbeque rack, but there was nothing you could do except take it like a champ and worry about it later.

This was not how you imagined the world above to be… You never thought you’d be attacked by giant roaches or chased by deranged criminals smelling of shameless cannibalism or held at gunpoint by the man…thing, that saved your life. You never imagined it was this bad up here, so desolate and askew, everything was old, rusted, worn, and crumbling and you had half the mind to just go back and let the raiders kill you and make their threats a reality of making you into human jerky.

The gun tapping incessantly against your cheek failed to pull you out of the depths of your spinning thoughts. But when it was forcibly pressed against the center of your forehead, nearly knocking you back on your arse, you stiffened with a gasp.

Your hero was becoming impatient.

“Never seen a ghoul before, Darlin’?” he asks with somewhat of a frown, his agitation brewing with your silent treatment and mindblown stare. He pranced around you, circling your kneeling, hunched-over form as you tried following his movements with doubtful eyes and a racing heart. “You been livin’ under a fucking rock?”

His gun was cocked and ready to fire, a steady forefinger resting over the trigger in case you decided to be stupid and try to run or lunge at him. He scoffed at the idea but kept his guard up just in case. After so many years of roaming, he’d seen just about everything, he wasn’t risking it no matter how defenseless you appeared at first glance.

“N-No…No, Sir. Never seen a…ghoul. Before.” you forced the words out, fearing his wrath, and clung to your sides as your hands kneaded through the soft material of your dress. Your head lowered obediently, lashes shielding your darting irises as they read his every movement. “A rock? No, I – “

It took him a single spin to notice the Pip-boy slapped over your wrist and his eyes hardened. He stopped by your side, towering over you, and ripped your arm away, clutching it in his hand with a roughness you’d never experienced before. You winced as he leaned over to inspect the device and grimaced with a twitching upper lip.

“ – A vault dweller…” he spat and his gloved fingers dug into your flesh. He ignored your whiney noise of protest, jostling you into silence before shooting a flesh-searing glare right into your soul. “You a vaulty?”

“What? I – No! Yes. Wait – ” you stammered when he dug a knee into the sand and let your arm go before gathering a handful of hair on the back of your head and forcing your neck back to make you look at him. He was…menacing, practically bolting you to the ground with a single glare. “Wait! Please, wait. Please! I – ” your hands shot up to grip his wrist, trembling and useless as you pleaded. He dug the gun under your chin, preventing you from swallowing. “Please, I did. I lived in a vault, but I don’t know anything! Please, please, I promise. Don’t – “ your eyes frantically shot down at where the barrel sunk into your skin, teeth chattering as your lashes heavied with tears.

“The hell’s that supposed to mean?!” he snarled, leaning so close that if he had a nose it would have bumped into yours. His breath stank of spirit and you tried to recoil but were promptly jerked back into place.

It didn’t click in your brain what had upset him so. The vaults were created to preserve humanity and its antics from before the bombs, it was for the betterment of the future. It was so that his children could eventually live better lives after you finally left the sanctuary of the underground and restored order to the surface, or so you’ve read. It made no sense for him to hate you based on a stupid Pip-boy that wasn’t even yours, you’d done nothing to him, you didn’t even know him! How could he be so nonchalantly cruel? How could he touch you without your consent? What gave him the right!?

The firearm digging into your flesh told you what.

“I was sick!” you wail, fighting back your tears and a pitiful stutter from poisoning your reply. His grip on your hair tightened and you twitched in pain, shaking like a leaf beneath him and clutching at his wrist in a silent plea to let you go. “I was isolated. I didn’t know anyone but my mom and dad, I didn’t do anything. I don’t know!” you debated for your life, prolonging his spine-chilling intentions. Bargaining with the devil was a difficult task when your body and mind worked against you, all blabbering words and choppy thoughts and jittery limbs. “The vault was taken over and I ran and I don’t know anything about the people and I just – Please…My parents are dead…Please, Mister, please don’t shoot…” you beg through sobs and a sniffling nose, tugging at his iron grip to no avail.

With a grunt and a flexing jaw, he threw you back, treating you with disregard equal to tossing out a piece of garbage, releasing you to curl up protectively over yourself, and standing. His gun clicked and he secured it back in the holster on his hip.

You instinctively rub at the tender area on the back of your head with a dissatisfied plaint, locking your thighs to obscure your exposed privates. Propped up on one hand and with a shaken look, you watched him spit and turn, his expression solid and distasteful and beating down on you for no reason that you could comprehend. Your breaths begin to event out and you swallow with a shuddering hum.

He turned away, drawing distance between you with stiff steps, fighting his resolve as his hand itched to draw his weapon and just shoot you on the spot.

But he couldn’t…

You weren’t worth the bullet, he repeated that bitter sentence under his breath to convince himself that he hesitated and withdrew simply because you were a waste of ammunition. It wasn’t your doe-eyed stare and too-soft-for-this-world skin that felt like silk when your tiny fingers had lingered under the edge of his sleeve. It wasn’t your delicate, shiny hair that looked like it would tear under his hold or the thick, heavy lashes that framed your eyes and held your tears that shone like diamonds in the sunlight. It definitely wasn’t that tiny dress that hugged your little frame and would make any goon go rabid from just a glance. You were no wastelander, didn’t look like any vault dweller who had crossed his path, you were too soft even for the life before the bombs. He didn’t know what you were, but you weren’t worth the cogitation.

You weren’t worth the bullet. You weren’t worth anything. You were nothing.

You were –

“ – Wait!” you hurry to rise and stumble after him. Despite his demeanor, he was the only thing that hadn’t tried to kill you on sight, and without anything or anyone else around, you had mentally latched onto him as your hero. “Mister, wait! You can’t just – “

He raised his weapon and pointed it at you faster than you could blink. Your hands shot up to shield your face and you shrunk in submission, rapidly blinking and with a hesitant look.

“Come closer.” he barks and cocks his gun, arm extended and eerily steady. “See what happens.”

“I – You can’t just leave me here!“ you protest, mustering what confidence you could, scraping at the bottom of a barrel that was emptied the moment you had set foot outside the vault. You straighten when no bullets come and your palms curl into fists, stomping a foot for emphasis. “That’s not right. You can’t just ditch me.”

“Watch me, Princess.” he chuckled, sneered, and bared his yellowish teeth at you like a dog. He gestured with the gun in dismissal and rested his free hand on his hip after flinging his coat back. “Now get!”

“I don’t know where to get.” you whine and curl your fingers in air quotes in a brash display, pushing your luck and mocking his conceit because you were so desperate you took your chances. “I don’t even know where I am!”

He just snorts at you, unbothered and uncaring, and proceeds on his way with a flick of his wrist, refusing to entertain your tantrum any longer.

You didn’t understand how someone could turn down a person in need, it made no sense, the lack of compassion was incomprehensible and so…inhuman. How could a man be this purposefully ignorant of another’s struggle and choose not to do anything? You could never turn down a cry for help, not that you’d ever been faced with such a situation before, but you knew you wouldn’t. So what had this ghoul lived through to be so detached and devoid of sympathy? How much had he been hurt to abandon emotion entirely for the sake of a still mind and dreamless sleep?

What kind of world forced a man to abandon his humanity…

Fueled by frustration, you take a few steps after him, so hellbent on keeping the spotless image of your hero you had forced upon his shoulders that your rationality couldn’t break through your naivety. He couldn’t be this cruel after saving your life and not even bringing up the possibility of a reward. He had to have a soft spot somewhere, beneath the rags and the ruggedness and the hissy threats and brutish actions. He was still a person just like you even if the harshness of the surface had disfigured both his body and soul, you believed in him, you had to for your own preservation.

He heard you move, heard the rustling of fabric and the shuffling of sand, and snapped with a cornered animal.

“Oh I’ve had about enough of you!” he snarled and whirled around, covering the distance between you with three long, menacing strides. Your startled scream was cut short when he squeezed your neck and forced you down on your back like your resistance against him didn’t even exist. He caged you beneath his tights, keeping you in place as you clawed at his stone-firm grip and gasped apologies and pleas through labored breaths. The gun knocked against the side of your forehead to stifle you into stilling. It clicked threateningly as he applied pressure to the trigger, sunken eyes staring down at you without any hesitation. “First rule of the wasteland, Sweetheart.” he grumbled through gritted teeth and a stiff jaw, tightening his chokehold until your eyes rolled back and you burst into a fit of coughs. “Don’t trust nobody.”

Your mind raced fervently, battling against the lack of oxygen and trying to search for anything in your memory that could guarantee you even a chance at surviving his unrelenting assault. A sliver of hope as unconsciousness splotched the edges of your vision with viscous darkness. Your ears screeched as blood thrashed around in your head and face, bulging and boiling, trapped and unable to reach the rest of your writhing body. Your feet kicked and thrashed without results and no matter how deep your nails sank in his leathery skin he didn’t so much as flinch. Spit dribbled from the corner of your gaping mouth, the threat of the gun completely discarded due to suffocation and your lungs screamed and burned with the scarce air.

And he just watched you struggle with a solemn visage and jagged features.

“Say something! ANYTHING! THINK OF SOMETHING!!!”

“Water!” you croak and it was nearly unintelligible, but he understood.

“What?” he hisses and his grip on your throat slacks enough for you to finally suck in a full breath.

You gulp greedily at the dry, scorching air, groaning in octaves so low you couldn’t recognize your own voice. Supposedly having your neck nearly crushed like a rotten pencil did that to one’s vocal cords. You relax beneath him and hold onto his forearm for support as if he hadn’t been the cause of your near-death experience. You cling to him like a lost child and not his victim and it utterly baffles him. He tried to find a glimmer of hatred or disgust, anything that would deter him enough to just shoot you and get this overextended fiasco to an end, anything that would let him pull the fucking trigger. There’s nothing though, just desperation and confusion and fright and you had placed him as the only barrier between yourself and the rest of the world and even when he watched the life drain from you as you fought for breath you still didn’t even glare at him. You were just too pure, undefiled by the cruelty of the world you’d set off to venture and a tiny, once-dead part of him boiled at the incessant thought of you falling into the hands of a less kind man. What if someone else had found you first…

“There’s a storage safehouse. It was made for emergencies.” you gasp and clear your throat, pushing past the need to gag and looking up at him because you were taught that holding eye contact was a good thing when speaking about something of grave importance. He softened above you and leaned away and you took that as your cue to continue. “Those people, the ugh…the bad guys can’t get to it. It’s hidden and you need a Pip-boy to unlock it.” you gulp audibly and wince at the soreness before licking at your chapped lips and wiping the drool off your cheek. “It’s full of food and water…and stimpaks and bandages and…whatever you wish. You can take all of it just – ” a wave of trembles racked through you and you tried to suppress a whimper, but couldn’t. “ – Please, just help me get to it…I just want to go home, Sir…”

“Thought you said you didn’t know anything, Princess? You tryna lie to me now?” his chin dipped as he cocked his head to the side. His voice was flat, and his cold demeanor breaching through your dress and nipping at your insides until you were littered with goosebumps despite being pinned down in a desert in the middle of the day.

“I don’t…I’ve never been there – I was an archive keeper. I know everything in theory I just never knew the people except my parents…But I can find my way to it just by memory, I know where it is I just need to walk around a bit and – ”

“ – Stop yappin’.” he scolded, cutting your rant short before tucking away his gun.

He took a moment to mull over your words, still keeping you locked beneath him while you laid there like a corpse and prayed wordlessly as anticipation punched at your churning stomach. He rubbed at his chin, tongue twisting in his mouth as if he were tasting your proposition. His eyes dipped down to your scrawny form, done skimming over the barren desert sea and deciding this didn’t need much more contemplation. You got to go home and get off his back, he got supplies for a good few weeks, and a handful of raiders would end up dead. Simple. Easy. He could do that.

“Done deal.”

You nearly cried out in joy at his words.

Then he finally stood and gripped your upper arm before roughly pulling you to your feet and you nearly faceplanted in his chest at the force. He laughs as you flounder and fight not to trip, the baritone of his voice sending you spiraling into a pit of embarrassment and abashment because he was the first person you had ever properly met and you were making a fool of yourself. There was a feint, innocent need prickling at your heart, you wished you could’ve impressed him, and made a good first impression, but that had been thrown out the window in its entirety the moment he’d pointed a gun at you.

Now you were torn between needing him close because he was your only source of comfort and wanting to slap him because he was such a rude and foul man. Who even pointed a weapon at an unarmed woman?

He did…the bastard.

“Shoulda just started with the storage, Missy.” he teases as if he’d not nearly killed you a few minutes ago, all lighthearted and smirking. He holds your arm until you’re stable enough to stand on your own and you’re grateful even if a bit abrasive. “Coulda saved us a whole lot of tusslin’.”

“I would have, sir, but you – “

“ – Sssst!” he susses you like one would a mischievous cat and your lips are sealed in an instant. Then he nudged his head forward and readjusted the collar of his coat after releasing you. “Walk.”

Deciding you’ve run your luck dry for the day, you let go of a snarky remark hanging on the tip of your tongue and do as instructed, trudging through the dunes as the familiar sting returns to the bare soles of your feet. Now, however, you had a nasty gash on your ankle to boot and it didn’t help that it was slowly getting covered by specs of sand that rubbed excruciatingly against your exposed flesh.

God damn those roaches, they were a menace when they were tiny! Now? You mouthed at the recollection.

You bite your tongue to keep from whining when the hurt becomes too unbearable, the rest of the time you were heaving with an open mouth as the idea of licking at your sweat for some sort of thirst relief grew. You’d not known thirst until today, it was worse than any needle or medical practice your father had used on you, you couldn’t even swallow properly, the motion happened automatically and you cringed at the stickiness of your dried-up throat.

It was too hot and you were woefully unprepared to deal with it or any of the other discomforts tugging your nerves thin. It bothered you how unphased he seemed by the harsh weather, one glance at him told you he hadn’t even broken a sweat. He was covered from head to toe in heavy clothes and strode with confidence and ease as if he were taking a walk through a park. You shrug without realizing it, too sunken into your head. Maybe he doesn’t have sweat glands anymore.

The sun was finally moving, sinking to the west and casting dramatic shadows over the desert. As his shadow grew, you found sanctuary in it from the still-sizzling rays and sighed in relief. It was a tiny drop of comfort, but it was enough to ease some of your strain. The muscles in your thighs were numb from overexertion for the first time in your life and you dreaded the cramps you’d have to deal with later on. The skin on your feet was smooth as butter from the intense exfoliation of walking through sand for so long, that was an interesting little fact you’d never heard of before. Dead skin cells could be removed by rubbing coarse surfaces over the body. Dope.

Locking yourself in the sanctity of your head and isolating your surroundings, you were numb and blind to how your legs shook. It wasn’t until you collapsed and tasted brittle little specs on your tongue that you realized you were lying down.

The ghoul paused and turned to look at you over his shoulder with profane boredom.

“Didn’t tell you to stop, Princess.”

“Mm…My legs don’t work.” you state before even realizing the cruciality of that bit of information. Your eyes pop open and the exhausted expression vanishes in an instant, you prop up on your elbows and stare back at the limp limbs. Panic ensues, pumping through you like a drug as a dry sob punctures your chest. “My legs don’t…My legs!”

“What in the hell!”

He’s on you in an instant, bent over and pushing at your shoulder until you roll on your back, the spaces where his eyebrows should be are locked together and he shushes your cries with a curt noise, but you’re too stressed to acknowledge it. There are no more tears left, your nose can’t even fill with snot from dehydration, and you end up a mess of ragged sobs and loud wails as you paw at your legs to wake them up. You double over and clutch at your upset stomach with a shaky hand as your teeth grit in dread.

If he hadn’t left you behind yet, he would now…

And you couldn’t even debate him on it this time, you wouldn’t even be able to stalk him if he tried.

“I can’t move them…” you hiccup. You manage to wiggle your toes but lifting your foot or bending a knee just doesn’t register, instead, you get a few twitches from the spent muscles and nothing else. The worst scenario plagues your sanity and you look to the ghoul for guidance because there is no one else. “What if – ”

“ – Shut the hell up!” he scolds and shoots you a brief glare before averting his eyes down as he cups a large gloved palm in the junction of your knee before lifting your thigh in uncharacteristically gentle examination. His thumb dips in your supple flesh, rubbing in circles, searching for something to hint him in on what the issue was, the concentration evident on his distinct features. Your cries die down to whimpers as he juts a finger against your lips. “You – “ he sighs and after a handsy inspection of your other leg, covers his eyes with his hand and presses down on his eyelids as the urge to hold you in another chokehold resurfaces. “ – You’re just fucking tired, you smooth-skinned little – ” he huffs and halts the slew of curses less you start crying even harder.

You don’t have time to react when he grips your sides and lifts you in the air before tossing you over his shoulder like a sack of tatoes. You wretch when his shoulder digs into your stomach and cough it off with arms flailing. Shaky hands clutch at the back of his coat as he secures one arm around your bare thighs and begins walking as if he’s not carrying another full-grown adult.

“Throw up on me and I will fucking blow your head off.”

He understood your sheltered way of thinking, but this was fucking unheard of. A newborn probably had more stamina than you, more strength too if your display of power earlier while he had you pinned down was the brink of your ability. You were so fragile it was annoying, you wouldn’t last a day out here, would’ve ended up as radroach food if he hadn’t stepped in. You were scrawnier than most people he’d seen and he’d seen plenty, and those who were smaller were on the brink of death from starvation. Who the hell went out in the wasteland unarmed?!

You did…fucking idiot.

“Thank you.” you mumble and audibly exhale, despite his threat, closing your eyes at his scarce kindness and smiling through bitten-down lips to cease your sobbing. You tried ignoring the fact that your butt was a few inches away from his face or that his hat grazed against your side with every step he took. Such bashful thoughts had no right to take up space in your head, but then again, he was your first friend and just having him around shot bolts of excitement through you.

Sure, he was a bit…rough around the edges. But he had saved you and he was carrying you back home. And he was a surface dweller who’d probably never known the comforts of the vaults so you couldn’t hold him accountable for being aggressive. Well, you could, and technically should, but you knew better than to bite the hand that feeds you.

“Don’t thank me, Princess.” he snorts and pats your thigh in feign caringness. “You owe me supplies. I ain’t gonna let you cheat me outta that.”

“There’s a few of them, though…the criminals, I mean.” you mused over what to call them while chewing on your bottom lip, hanging off the shoulder of a ghoul in a thin sundress, carried through a desert, like it was just a normal day.

They had looked more like bandits, but what else were you supposed to label them as? The judgment system was a thing of the past, so what were these people considered now? Outlaws? You continue with a pang of concern, fearing for the safety of your rugged savior, too attached to the idea of companionship and just sick of seeing violence. You’d had enough for one day.

“Are you sure you can handle them? They didn’t seem very friendly.”

“First off, they’re called raiders. Everyone ‘round here’s a criminal now.” he laughed, tipping his head back and you feel the raspy chortle swell your chest.

You liked him happy, he was almost charming this way. Or maybe it was a “Rescue Romance” you were experiencing and the ghoul was just a crusty weird man who had saved you without considering what a pest you might turn out to be. You’d try to find that one psychology book and re-read it once you got back home just to make sure.

“Stop swooning!”

“Second, it’s my job. I’m a bounty hunter, Sweetheart. I kill people for a livin’.” he tilted his hollow nose to the side, addressing you properly as he spoke, and if you’d seen the gesture you would have appreciated it.

“Oh,…a bounty hunter? Like in the Old West then! I’ve read so much about that!” you squeak and perk up, wiggling in excitement as your face beams. Your calf twitched as some feeling returned to your limp legs and it only added to your brightened mood. Now you could actually feel the cool texture of his coat gliding against your skin.

You didn’t see his features grim or how his hat tipped to obscure sunken eyes and hide the brisk vulnerability swirling in them or the flash of regret, the pain, the little piece of humanity he didn’t even know he still had. His grip on your thigh tightened and you strayed to one side and glanced at the back of his head in question, expecting him to be more boastful about his job. Instead, he was mournfully silent and you feared you’d said something wrong, reopened an old would accidentally.

“Just like the Old West, yeah.” he nodded with a low grunt and you frowned. The words slip past his teeth with such dreadful familiarity that you can’t help the curiosity that would no doubt be your downfall one day. You press a tender palm between his shoulder blades, more for your sake rather than his, and pray he didn’t change his mind to drop you and leave.

You doubted books were a common luxury in this crumbling world, you also doubted the ghoul was a man of knowledge, he didn’t look like the type to read. Maybe there were still movie cassettes and TVs in good enough shape to be used and that’s how he learned of the old cowboy history. As slim as those possibilities were, they made more sense than him being alive before the apocalypse and still walking the earth in the present time. His distorted appearance didn’t give you any indicators of his age, so trying to guess was out of the question, but even then the war was over two hundred years ago. He couldn’t possibly…

Maybe you were simply overthinking, but the way he’d said it sounded like he’d lived through it and the longer you pondered over that the sharper your awareness became.

“How long do ghouls live, Mister?” you ask, uncertain of what he’d answer, but holding onto your speculations until he did.

“That the vault?” he shoots back, coming to a halt and straightening and completely sweeping away your inquiry.

It was a good enough answer and despite your gnawing curiosity, you decided not to press the matter further because you didn’t know how far his courtesy extended before he had his gun pressed to your temple again.

You hadn’t even noticed how much ground he’d covered with you slumped over him, everything around you looked the same and with fatigue fogging your lapse of time it wasn’t surprising. He was built for endurance or…mutated for it. What exactly was a ghoul, anyway?

You coil around him like a snake and he holds you secure as you clutch at his shoulder and turn until you can see what he sees.

The distinct metal of the vault door glinted in the dying sunlight, mostly concealed by debris and toppled over stone blocks.

Everything around you was bathed in warm hues of maroon and deep orange and for just a moment the world felt so peaceful. The sun had almost completely set, dipping behind golden dunes, the breeze hollered a deft, haunted tune and there was no noise besides you and the ghoul’s breaths. It was all so beautiful you wanted to cry, your eyes dampened as you soaked in the sight with a slack jaw. The magic of a sunset was so foreign it hadn’t even registered until you’d been made to look around instead of troubling yourself with the bounty hunter’s backstory.

How could something be so impossibly mesmerizing?

“Yeah…” you manage to answer, at a loss for words, yet still conscious of the question and your friend’s proven lack of patience. “Yeah, that’s it.”

He plops you down unceremonially without even asking you if your legs were back in order before grabbing your arm and dragging you along. You waddle after him like a duckling and clutch at his coat when your ankles intertwine and trip you in your stride. A startled noise escapes you, but you successfully manage to keep up with his hasty footing until he’s pulled you directly in front of the vault door, grumbling at your clumsy nature and lack of coordination. A few low curses are hung over your head but you don’t pay them any mind.

“Open it.” he demands and pushes you forward, then unclasps his gun and then another you hadn’t even noticed he had.

Whatever nonchalant demeanor you’d made him settle into was discarded for one so icy and sharp that you failed to understand how he just switched within a blink.

You straighten your dress with a huff, patting out the newly acquired wrinkles and trying to ignore the variety of stains. The Pip-boy is raised up as you maneuver around the plethora of menus.

The ghoul steps closer, stopping once he’s right behind you with a raised weapon and steady eyes glued to the entrance. The lid hisses and you recoil at the scratchy sound until you’re pressing back into him, he wraps an arm around you on instinct, then scowls and rips away as if burnt by a hot rod.

“Watch your step.” he hisses and points the guns at the entrance, treading cautiously, on high alert for any noise that echoes beyond the darkness. Once he’s glued to the vault door he beckons you with his hand and you quickly follow, feet pattering against the metallic floor until you’re closely pressed to his side and peeking from behind him.

It wasn’t scary when he was with you. You strangely didn’t fear the raiders lurking inside anymore, only worrying over the potential harm they might cause him. But he’d proven more than capable, you made yourself believe he’ll be just fine and so would you.

When nothing comes and he’s confident the threat lies further inside, he steps past the entrance.

“Stay behind me.” he makes a face at his statement, then glances back at you. “And don’t get in my way.”

🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼

<<< Chapter 1

Chapter 3 >>>

🌼 Daisy Masterlist 🌼

Masterlist

[karlachismylife]

Yeah, but what if you're a character in a game they like to play? A pre-existing townie in a life simulator that helps them reconnect with normal life outside deployment? The one they somehow always tend to romance in every savefile, courting you through the clumsy mechanics?

Soap would absolutely spam interactions, interrupting any of the tasks you are trying to do. What do you mean your relatonship progress starts going down after he chose "tell a flirty joke" twenty times in a row? Why are you falling out of the conversation and going to water your plants or play on the computer? Does he have to delete it out of the game for you to stop getting distracted? Hmph. If you were a real person, you would be already swooning at his jokes, that he knows for sure. C'mon, bonnie, don't leave the lot for work! If you accept his proposition to move in, you'll never need to work a day in your pixel life! He also has a fuckton of savefiles, because he wants to try every single thing the game has to offer, but turns out mastering all 158 skills and 73 careers isn't that easy in one go. He still goes after you in each and every savefile. What can he say? You're just the prettiest of them all.

Gaz has the strategy nailed down. He knows your pre-set preferences and makes sure his character caters to them (good thing you seem to be generally into him, all he needs to do is add your favourite colour to his outfit, and it suits hm too!), he can calculate the shortest route to have a romantic meter above your head in one conversation. Juggling the interactions with ease, never making the mistake to bore or upset you. He knows you'll have the best family tree in that game, and he'll make it happen. Also has quite a few savefiles, but only because he enjoys the storytelling aspect and always prepares some elaborate plot, filled with drama. Takes inspiration from the hundreds of episodes of different TV shows he manages to watch, also plays with mods to add as much flavour to the game as possible.

Price tries to court you like he would a real person. Inviting your character out, putting a lot of thought into which conversation theme choose out of what game offers, bringing you gifts. Unfortunately for him, the game isn't registering his actions as actually trying to woo you... so he just takes the gloves off and fucking cheats your relationship status. His in-game self needs a pretty partner to look after the pack of three dogs, named Ghost, Gaz and Soap respectively. He's not above cheating your babies (whether your character carries them or it's the science baby option) to be triplets. Only starts new savefiles when you both grow old and pass away in the previous one, maybe because he can't bring himself to live out your kids' lives (they should be their own little virtual people and decide for themselves), or maybe because he doesn't understand that he actually can keep playing even if his character's dead.

Ghost starts with adding himself to your family and setting your relationship status as spouses. Oh, you have some in-game pathetic weird looking prick as your pre-set partner/husband? Too bad, evicted, deleted from the game, forgotten. If he is in the mood, he won't straight up delete that poor bloke, but will set up a pool with no ladder and drown him in it or lock him in a separate room to starve. Nothing you should see, though, you'll be plenty busy drowning yourself, not in a pool, but in his affection. Doesn't spam interactions, but really enjoys just watching you go about your day and making it so that his character takes care of your needs - if you start to get hungry, he's already slamming the "call to meal" button on the giant ribs plate his in-game self just roasted. Probably has one savefile where he keeps cheating any death back.

Or are you a cute tamagochi pocket friend/pet they enjoy taking care of, because having a real pet is impossible with their lifestyle? An NPC with an everyday quest of collecting produce in a chill farm simulator? A weekly boss they lose fight to as much times as they can afford to, just to see your opening cutscene replay over and over? A companion whose personal quest they have memorized line by line, but never skip dialogue to hear your voice and look at every expression you make?

Whoever you are, what if one day something in your code changes and you suddenly start recognizing them?

[misswynters]

Buddy, the snowman

featuring. s2 jayce x reader

a/n. i want everyone to picture s2 long haired jayce for this (my lil hispanic boy)

Piltover in winter was a different kind of magic. The city’s usual bustle slowed as the snow draped over rooftops, blanketed the cobbled streets, and softened the sharp edges of its mechanical marvels. The air was crisp, filled with the faint scent of pine, and for once, it seemed as if even the gears of progress paused to appreciate the quiet beauty of the holiday season.

You stood on the edge of the park, bundled in a thick coat, scarf, and gloves, waiting for Jayce. Who is always late, as usual. Snow crunched beneath your boots as you shifted your weight, your breath visible in the cold air. When he finally arrived, he was juggling a small box of cookies he’d picked up on the way, a thermos of hot cocoa, and his scarf, which he hadn’t managed to wrap around his neck yet.

“Sorry I’m late,” he called out, flashing you a sheepish grin. “I got held up by Mrs. Halloway. She wanted to tell me all about her snowflake shaped cookie cutters.”

You laughed, reaching out to grab the thermos before it slipped from his hands. “Let me guess, you were too polite to escape?”

“She cornered me at the shop,” he admitted, his breath clouding in the air as he finally wrestled the scarf into place. “But hey, I brought cookies!”

“Then all is forgiven,” you teased, linking your arm with his as you walked into the park.

The snow was untouched, sparkling under the late morning sun. Children’s laughter echoed from the far side of the park where a sledding hill was busy with activity. You and Jayce gravitated toward a quieter spot, where the snow lay pristine and the trees offered some shelter from the wind. “I can’t remember the last time I built a snowman,” you mused, surveying the scene.

“Then we’re fixing that today,” Jayce declared, already kneeling to scoop up a handful of snow. He packed it tightly, forming the beginnings of a snowball. “You start the bottom, I’ll handle the head.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You trust me with the foundation?”

“Of course. You’re the architect here, aren’t you?” he teased, his grin warm and inviting.

With a playful roll of your eyes, you got to work. The snow was perfect, soft enough to mold but firm enough to hold its shape. You began rolling the snowball across the ground, watching it grow larger and larger. Meanwhile, Jayce fashioned the middle and top sections, his gloved hands moving with practiced ease.

“Hey,” he called out after a while, his voice tinged with amusement. “Is this snowman going to rival the height of the council tower? Because it’s looking like you’re aiming for a structural masterpiece.”

You stepped back, admiring your work. The base was enormous, almost up to your waist. “Bigger is better ,” you retorted with a grin, dusting the snow off your gloves. “If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it right.”

Jayce chuckled, hoisting the midsection of the snowman in his arms. “Fair point. But if this guy topples over, I’m blaming the architect.”

You laughed as he carefully balanced the second snowball on top of the base. “You’re not exactly the most careful engineer I know, Jayce. Remember that time you accidentally launched yourself across the workshop?”

“That was one time!” he shot back, laughing as he adjusted the snowball until it was perfectly centered. “And I still say it was an unintended success.”

“You’re lucky I was there to catch you,” you teased, rolling up the final snowball for the head. Jayce stepped aside to help you lift it, his hands brushing against yours as you both placed it on top. The snowman took shape quickly, its proportions absurdly exaggerated but undeniably charming. Jayce pulled a handful of random gadgets and bolts from his pocket, because of course he carried those everywhere, and started sticking them into the snowman’s torso.

“What are you doing?” you asked, watching in disbelief as he carefully attached a cogwheel where a button might go.

“Improving him,” Jayce said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Every snowman deserves a touch of innovation.”

You snorted. “This is why you can’t leave well enough alone.”

“I prefer to think of it as creativity,” he said, leaning back to admire his work. “What do you think? Too much?” The snowman now looked like a combination between a friendly holiday figure and an early prototype from Jayce’s workshop. His scarf draped around its neck (stolen from Jayce’s coat), the twig arms were bent at jaunty angles, and the “buttons” were a mismatched collection of gears and screws.

“It’s… unique to say the least,” you said, stifling a laugh. “But he needs a name. How about… Buddy?”

Jayce grinned. “I like it. He’s definitely our buddy now.”

The two of you stood back, admiring your creation. The late morning sun glinted off the snow. But then, out of nowhere, a snowball hit you square in the shoulder. “Jayce!” you yelped, spinning around to see him grinning mischievously, another snowball already in his hand.

“Consider it a christening for Buddy,” he said with a wink, launching the second snowball toward you.

You dodged, laughing, and scooped up some snow of your own. “Oh, you’re going to regret that!” The next few minutes devolved into a chaotic snowball fight. You darted behind trees, narrowly avoiding Jayce’s throws while lobbing your own with surprising accuracy. He wasn’t as agile as you, but his aim was scarily good, and more than once you ended up covered in snow.

When you finally called a truce, you were both breathless and laughing, your cheeks pink from the cold and exertion. Jayce flopped onto the snow, spreading his arms and legs to make a snow angel.

“Not bad,” he said between breaths. “But I think I won.”

“You wish,” you said, collapsing beside him. “I hit you way more times than you hit me.”

“Debatable,” he replied, turning his head to look at you. His brown eyes sparkled with warmth, and his smile was softer now, less mischievous. The two of you lay there in the snow, staring up at the pale blue sky. The world felt quiet, the only sounds the distant laughter of children and the occasional rustle of wind through the trees.

“Thanks for dragging me out here,” Jayce said after a while. “I needed this.”

You turned your head to face him, your breath visible in the cold air. “Me too. It’s nice to just... be for a while. No council meetings, experiments, or deadlines.”

“Just you, me, and our little Buddy,” he said with a chuckle, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than usual. You felt your cheeks grow warmer, though whether it was from the cold or something else, you weren’t sure. “And the cookies,” you reminded him, sitting up and reaching for the box he’d brought.

Jayce sat up too, brushing snow from his coat. “Right. Can’t forget about the cookies.” The two of you sat together, sharing cookies and sipping hot cocoa from the thermos. Buddy stood proudly nearby, a testament to your combined (if slightly chaotic) efforts. Pulling off your gloves, cradling the thermos in your hands. The warmth seeped through your fingers as you took a sip, the rich, sweet cocoa melting the chill in your bones. Jayce opened the box of cookies, offering you one before taking one for himself.

"These are so good,” you said, savoring the buttery sweetness.

“Told you Mrs. Halloway knows her stuff,” Jayce replied, his grin boyish as he took a large bite. “Snowball fights and cookies. Best day off ever.”

You leaned back, watching Buddy stand proudly in the distance. “I think we outdid ourselves with that snowman,” you said.

Jayce glanced at it, a playful smile on his face. “He’s definitely got personality. Though next year, I’m thinking we add some light-up features. Maybe a mini hammer.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Of course you are. But fine, as long as I get to handle the design.”

“Deal,” he said, raising his cookie like a toast.

As the two of you sat there, sharing cookies and warm drinks, the soft glow of the setting sun painted the snow in shades of gold and pink. It was a rare, perfect moment of peace, one you knew you’d carry with you through the busier days ahead. And in the quiet of the winter evening, with Jayce’s laughter still echoing in your ears, you realized this was what you loved most about him: his ability to make even the simplest moments unforgettable.

As the sun began to set, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, Jayce pulled his scarf from the snowman and wrapped it around your shoulders instead.

“You’re going to freeze,” you protested, but he shook his head.

“I’m fine,” he said, his voice gentle. “You’re the one who dragged me out here, so it’s only fair that I make sure you stay warm.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t argue, leaning into his side as he slung an arm around you. “Same time next year?” he asked, his tone light but hopeful.

“Maybe, as long as you aren't late.” you agreed, smiling as you watched the last light of day fade behind the snow-covered trees.

taglist. @diffusebread @xxblairslairxx @thesevi0lentdelights @writingwisterias

[bunnyyyuu]

includes: implied f! reader, nothing but fluffff, PINK

for context, i dyed my hair hot pink this weekend with the help of my gf! but it came out red (though i love the red its my favorite hair color ive ever had). anyways that + yuuta brainrot =

yuuta’s eyes are squinted so small you worry if he can even see what he’s doing. his tongue is sticking out of his lips in concentration—how cute. his hair is out of his face in a little ponytail atop his head held up wjth one of your spare scrunchies. he’s gripping the brush with a gloved and as he meticulously worked.

you were tired of paying upwards of 200? 300? dollars for a new look. so, tonight, you’d asked your lovely boyfriend to dye your hair pink for you. he’d never dyed hair before, but, after studying a couple youtube videos with furrowed brows, he’s feeling relatively confident.

“sorry if i mess up your hair,” he murmurs for the upteenth time as he globs more hot pink goop on the naked section of your hair.

he was anxious—how could he not be? there was a chance he could ruin your hair and your confidence in just an hour or so. you just giggled, trying to stay as still as possible but your shoulders still shake a little.

“if you fuck my shit up and i have to go bald, will you still love me?” you ask. you can see him in the mirror hanging on your bedroom door you were seated in front of, a faint blush pinking your cheeks at just how adorably focused he looked.

“i’ll love you always,” he says simply, as if it was common sense.

“even if i’m bald? like shiny, not-a-single-strand-of-hair bald?” you continue pestering him.

“yes, yes, love your hair, but i would still love you without it." you can tell he’s struggling to juggle his task and your conversation, so you shut up.

he has you leaning over the edge of the tub an hour later, holding the detachable shower head. bright, neon pink water threatens to stain the porcelain white tub as he rinses your hair. your’re hissing at the freezing temperature of the water, eyes squeezed shut so tight as it streams down your face.

he keeps rinsing, occasionally running his hands through your sopping locks to check if there was any dye left on your scalp, until the water grew light enough to be safe.

he blow dries your hair after, mumbling apologies when you whine about the heat against your head. he’s not letting you look at yourself until it's all done, but you're pretty sure he likes it.

“it looks good,” he half-shouts over the sound of the hairdryer, “very pink!”

once your hair was all done, he pressed a kiss against the crown of your head before turning you to look at the mirror.

you’re looking at your reflection and he’s looking at you. he thinks you might be angel sent down from heaven as a reward for something great he did in a past life.

“yuuta!” you squeal, hands cautiously hovering over the bright strands, “it's so pretty!”

“you're so pretty,” he can't help to remind you—he does that a lot.

he just loves the way you're looking at yourself. he knows (for reasons he cannot even begin to comprehend) that you're not always satisfied with your appearance, even when he puts his best efforts to make you know just how gorgeous you are forth. but, now, you're staring at yourself with such glimmer in your eyes. he doesn't want you to ever look at yourself any other way again.

“do you like it?” he knows the answer before he asks it.

“i love it!” you turn to him, big grin painted on your lips, “i love you!” you throw yourself onto him and press a fat kiss against his forehead.

“i love you more.”

[zaczenemiji]

Curtain Calls and Curveballs II

Kenji Sato x Actress!Reader

Synopsis: After high school graduation, you never expected to see Kenji Sato again. But fate reunites you both at the same university where your love/hate relationship continues to grow.

Word Count: 1,376

Genre/Warning: Coming of Age, Enemies to Lover, Eventual Romance, Slow Burn

Author's Note: Oops, it became a short series 🫢 Part 3’s otw and I changed the title

PART ONE | PART THREE

MASTERLIST

You were dead wrong when you thought that high school graduation would be the last time you’d ever have to interact with Kenji. You remember your last words then, saying, “Congrats, Sato! I hope this is the last time I ever have to deal with you again.”

To which he replied with, “I’m sure this isn’t the last, (y/n)—to me at least—if ever you really are going to be the actress you dream of being.”

You were hurrying across the busy campus of your university, juggling a stack of drama textbooks and a cup of coffee.

Just as you were about to approach the performing arts building, you noticed a group of students gathered around a bulletin board. Your curiosity built up as you got closer to see what the commotion was about.

“Did you hear? There's a big baseball game this weekend.” a familiar voice called out.

You turned, heart skipping a beat. You didn’t expect to see anyone from high school here, let alone Kenji Sato. He stood there, his signature confident grin in place, holding a baseball glove.

"Kenji?" you blurted out, surprised. "What are you doing here?"

Kenji raised an eyebrow, looking equally taken aback. "I could ask you the same thing,” he said. “I thought you were off to some fancy drama school."

“I am,” you rolled your eyes, recovering from the shock. “This university has one of the best drama programs in LA. What about you? I thought you were headed straight for the big leagues."

“Not yet,” Kenji chuckled, shaking his head. “I've got a scholarship to play baseball here while I get my degree.”

The two of you stood there for a moment, sizing each other up. The familiar tension from high school crept back in, but it was tinged with the novelty of your new surroundings.

"So, you're still playing ball?" you asked, trying to sound casual.

"Yeah, and I'm still throwing strikes," Kenji replied with a smirk. "And you? Still pretending to be someone else on stage?"

“Ugh!” you rolled your eyes, but couldn't help the small smile tugging at your lips. "It's called acting, Kenji. Something you'd know nothing about."

Kenji laughed, the sound surprisingly warm. "Fair enough. So, are you coming to the game this weekend? It's against our biggest rival. Should be a good show."

"I might," you said, shrugging. "If I don't have rehearsals."

"Typical," Kenji said, shaking his head. "Always busy with your little plays."

"And you're always busy chasing a ball," you retorted.

The rivalry that had defined your high school years was still there, but it was different now but no less present.

"Well, I've got to get to practice," Kenji said finally, stepping back. "Try not to trip on stage, (y/n)."

"And you try not to get hit by a pitch, Sato," she shot back.

As you went your own way, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief. Being in college felt like being in an unknown and bigger territory with so much more people. It was nice to come across someone you know in a crowd of unfamiliar faces; even if that was Kenji.

So many things have changed since you got into college. The only thing that didn’t, of course, was your rivalry with Kenji but the competition was less intense since you were in different programs.

This shift allowed you to focus on your individual passions without the constant pressure of direct competition. Here, in college, people didn’t know about the rivalry you had.

But this anonymity disappeared quicker than you thought because, for every time you came across each other, you’d always be hurling sarcastic remarks; as you two always did.

One bustling afternoon in the cafeteria, you were with your new friends, laughing and discussing your upcoming production.

"Hey, (y/n), I heard your play's actually worth watching this time," Kenji called out, smirking as he approached with his tray.

“Kenji,” You looked up, a frown on your face. "I thought you'd be busy throwing balls around. What brings you to the world of real talent?"

Kenji chuckled, setting his tray down. "Just wanted to see if you're still pretending to be someone you're not."

One of your friends raised an eyebrow, glancing between the two of you. "You two know each other?"

“Unfortunately,” you said, rolling your eyes as you sighed. "Kenji here thinks he's the king of everything just because he can throw a ball."

"Careful, (y/n). Your jealousy is showing," Kenji retorted, grinning.

Your friends exchanged looks, quickly picking up on the rivalry. "So, you two have a history?"

"You could say that," Kenji said. "She's been trying to keep up with me since high school."

You scoffed, "In your dreams, Sato."

On baseball games, you’d attend with a group of friends from your program more to support the school than to see Kenji, or so you told yourself.

As you settled in your seat, one of your guy friends nudged you. "Isn't that the guy you're always talking about? The baseball star?" He asked.

You sighed, rolling your eyes. "Yes, that's Kenji,” you said. “Try not to feed his ego."

Kenji was on the mound, winding up for a pitch. He glanced towards the stands where he spotted you and your friends. With a smirk, he nodded in your direction.

"Is he waving at us?" another friend asked.

“No,” you shook your head. "He's just trying to show off. Watch, he'll probably strike this guy out just to make a point."

Sure enough, Kenji delivered a fastball that struck the batter out, the crowd erupting in cheers. He turned back to you, giving a mock bow.

Your guy friend laughed. "You weren't kidding,” he said. He's got a flair for the dramatic."

"Tell me about it," you muttered. "He's always been like this."

More than once, on your rehearsals, you’d find Kenji standing by the doorway, leaning casually against the frame.

"Nice performance, (y/n)," he called out, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Almost believed you were someone else."

You paused, turning to face him with a raised eyebrow. "What are you doing here, Kenji?” You asked. “Lost your way to the field?"

The director looked between the two of you, intrigued. "Friend of yours, (y/n)?" He asked.

"Hardly," you answered, crossing your arms. "Just someone who thinks he's more important than he actually is."

Kenji grinned, unfazed. "Just wanted to see what all the fuss was about,” he said. “You know, your acting. Seems like everyone's talking about it."

"Well, I'm flattered," you said dryly. "Now, if you'll excuse us, we have real work to do."

As Kenji left, one of your fellow actors whispered, "He really gets under your skin, doesn't he?"

You sighed, shaking her head. "He's been doing it for years."

During hell week, your exams season, you’d spend your time in the library a little longer. Of course, Kenji knew about this. He’s been keeping tabs on you since coming across you when you were freshmen.

You were studying in a quiet corner of the library when Kenji walked in. He made his way over, pulling out a chair across from you.

"Studying hard, I see," he said, grinning. "Trying to finally beat me at something?"

You looked up, exasperated. "Kenji, some of us actually have exams to prepare for,” you replied. “Don't you have a game to practice for?"

"Already did," he said. "Thought I'd see what the academic life is like. How's the memorizing going? More lines to learn?"

"At least I use my brain for something other than sports," you shot back.

A nearby student, overhearing the exchange, glanced over with curiosity. "Do you two always bicker like this?"

You nodded, not missing a beat, “Pretty much. It's our thing."

Kenji laughed, leaning back in his chair, "Can't let her get too comfortable, can I?"

As he left, the student shook his head, smiling, "You two have a strange relationship."

You didn’t even know that guy or from what program he’s in. It felt like it was high school all over again where everyone knew of your rivalry, and it’s the only thing they knew between you two.

And soon enough, it will be what the world knows about you two.

PART THREE

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[honeyhae-svt]

❄ mistletoe - h. joshua 🎄

hong joshua x gn!reader

december with seventeen ! 3/13 tags: joshua x reader, holiday au, christmas love story, snowball fight, mistletoe kiss, fluff, romance, cozy vibes, snow angels, warmth in the cold, friends to lovers, slow burn, winter vibes genre: romance, fluff, holiday/christmas au, friendship, humor warnings: none (this is a fluff-filled story with light teasing and playful moments) wc: 3702 a/n: 3/13 ! ten to go. PLAY MISTLETOE BY JUSTIN BIEBER RN !!

the town square was alive with the kind of magic only december could bring. strings of fairy lights draped over every lamppost, their soft glow reflecting off the freshly fallen snow. the scent of roasted chestnuts and cinnamon wafted through the air, mingling with the sound of laughter and the occasional jingle of sleigh bells. stalls lined the cobblestone paths, each one adorned with wreaths and red bows, offering everything from hand-knitted scarves to steaming cups of mulled cider.

you pulled your coat tighter around you, your breath visible in the frosty air as you glanced at the clipboard in your gloved hands. "decorations—check. food vendors—check. sound system…" your eyes scanned the square, landing on a small stage being set up at the far end. "pending."

"you’re doing great, by the way," a voice piped up beside you. turning, you saw karina, the friend who had somehow convinced you to volunteer for this event. she was bundled in a puffy coat and a bright red scarf, her cheeks flushed from the cold, pretty as ever.

"sure," you replied with a wry smile. "because frantically running around and triple-checking lists just screams ‘competent.’"

karina laughed, linking her arm with yours. "it’s your first christmas in town. you’re supposed to be soaking in the charm, not stressing over the details."

"says the person who handed me this clipboard," you teased, nudging her lightly.

"okay, fair," she admitted, grinning. "but trust me, once the festival starts, you’ll forget all about the clipboard. besides, we’ve got an amazing performer lined up."

"oh?" you asked, only half-listening as you scanned the square again. "who is it?"

karina's eyes sparkled mischievously. "you’ll see."

before you could press her for more details, she gave your arm a squeeze and darted off, leaving you standing there with equal parts curiosity and exasperation. shaking your head, you turned your attention back to the clipboard, unaware of the pair of eyes watching you from across the square.

joshua hong adjusted the strap of his guitar case, a small smile tugging at his lips as he observed the flustered but determined volunteer coordinating the chaos. he didn’t recognize you, which was unusual in a town where everyone seemed to know everyone. a newcomer, then. interesting.

"ready to soundcheck?" one of the event organizers called to him.

joshua nodded, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before heading toward the stage.

the festival was in full swing, but you were too busy juggling a stack of boxes filled with ornaments to notice the festive cheer buzzing around you. balancing the boxes precariously, you tried to maneuver your way through the crowd, offering polite apologies to anyone who accidentally bumped into you.

"need a hand?"

the smooth voice startled you, and you turned to see a tall figure in a dark coat and scarf, his smile warm enough to melt the frost clinging to the air. he gestured toward the wobbling stack in your arms.

"uh, i… sure, thanks," you stammered, a little flustered as he easily took half the load. it wasn’t until you glanced at him again that recognition hit. this was the performer karina had been so cryptic about. joshua hong—the local celebrity with a voice that could make christmas carols sound like love songs.

"you’re doing all this by yourself?" he asked, his tone light as the two of you made your way toward the main decoration stall.

"it’s kind of in the job description," you replied, setting the boxes down with a relieved sigh. "volunteer extraordinaire, at your service."

joshua chuckled, the sound rich and genuine. "well, volunteer extraordinaire, you’ve got some serious multitasking skills. but even superheroes need a sidekick, right?"

before you could respond, a group of kids came barreling past, almost knocking over a nearby display of poinsettias. you instinctively reached out to steady it, your clipboard slipping from under your arm in the process. joshua caught it before it hit the ground, his reflexes quick.

"definitely a sidekick," he quipped, handing it back to you with a playful grin.

"thanks," you murmured, still trying to steady yourself—and not just because of the near mishap. there was something about him, a natural ease that seemed to blend seamlessly with the festive chaos, leaving you both intrigued and… frustratingly charmed.

the two of you spent the next hour working together, joshua insisting on helping with everything from stringing lights to setting up tables. his presence drew curious glances from passersby, but he didn’t seem to mind, focused instead on making you laugh with little jokes and observations.

"you’ve got glitter on your face," he pointed out at one point, gesturing vaguely toward your cheek.

"what? where?" you asked, swiping at your face awkwardly.

he leaned in slightly, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "here, let me…" he said softly, brushing a thumb just below your cheekbone. the gesture was innocent enough, but it sent a wave of heat rushing to your face nonetheless.

as the evening progressed, the mistletoe seemed to become a running joke. every time you turned around, it felt like one of the sprigs was conveniently hanging nearby, and joshua never missed an opportunity to point it out.

"you know, it’s practically a crime to ignore mistletoe," he said, his tone teasing as the two of you stood under yet another sprig while rearranging a table display.

"pretty sure it’s optional," you shot back, trying to sound unfazed.

he tilted his head, feigning deep thought. "hmm, maybe. but it’s bad luck to tempt fate during the holidays."

"you’re impossible," you muttered, though you couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips.

"and yet, here we are," he replied smoothly, his grin making it clear he was thoroughly enjoying this little game.

despite the teasing, there was a sincerity in his actions that made it hard to stay flustered for long. whether it was handing you a cup of hot cocoa when he noticed you shivering or helping an elderly vendor fix a stubborn string of lights, joshua had a way of making everything feel a little brighter.

by the time the night wound down, you couldn’t deny that he’d left an impression—one that lingered long after the last stall had closed and the fairy lights cast their soft glow over the empty square.

the festival's glow had long since faded as the crowd dispersed, leaving only a few lingering souls, each wrapped in the warmth of the evening's festivities. you were wrapping up, your clipboard now a crumpled relic of the day, as the final touches were made to the stalls. the soft crunch of snow underfoot was the only sound as you made your way toward the town's ice skating rink, your steps slow and heavy from a long day of coordinating and running errands.

but then, you heard it—joshua's voice, light and warm as ever, calling your name from behind.

"hey," he greeted, appearing beside you with a steaming cup of hot chocolate in hand. "thought you might need a break."

you smiled, accepting the drink gratefully. "thanks. this night’s been… a lot." your gaze shifted, following the snowflakes drifting down, blanketing the square in a thick layer of white.

"i can imagine," joshua said, his tone soft but carrying an undercurrent of something you couldn’t quite place. he fell into step beside you, matching your slow pace. "you’ve been running around all day, coordinating everything. that's impressive."

"well," you shrugged, wrapping your hands around the cup. "someone had to make sure everything was in order." you stole a glance at him, noting the way he seemed a little distant, his usual playful demeanor dimming slightly.

"yeah," joshua murmured, but there was a hesitation in his voice that made you glance at him more closely. "i heard you talking earlier. about leaving after christmas?"

you froze. the warmth from the cocoa seemed to drain from your fingers as the weight of his words sank in. "what?" you asked, trying to steady your voice, but a knot had already formed in your stomach.

"you said something about going back to the city, after the festival. thought i'd check if that’s still the plan." his voice was carefully neutral, though his gaze was intense, searching yours.

you couldn’t help the confusion that bubbled up. "oh, that… yeah, i’ve got some things to sort out. after the holidays, i’m going back." you tried to brush it off, but there was something in his eyes that made you pause. "but it’s not like i’m leaving forever. i’ll be back for work and stuff."

there was a long silence between you, one that stretched out uncomfortably as joshua seemed to retreat further into himself, his gaze now fixed ahead.

"right," he said quietly. "well, i guess that makes sense." his words were distant, the playfulness from earlier all but gone. it was strange, this shift in him. you were used to his teasing, the way he would joke and make everything feel easy, but now… now he seemed so different. like he’d closed off in a way you didn’t understand.

"joshua," you called softly, hesitating. "are you… are you okay?"

he turned to you then, his expression unreadable. for a moment, there was only the sound of the wind and the soft hum of the distant festival. and then, he smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "yeah, i’m fine. just, you know, a little tired. long day, that’s all."

you weren’t convinced. you wanted to press him for more, to understand why the joshua you knew was suddenly so distant. but the words caught in your throat, leaving you frustrated and unsure.

"i’ll teach you how to skate," he added quickly, as if to change the subject, his eyes lighting up with a new, brighter energy. "if you’re up for it, that is."

you nodded, grateful for the distraction. "sure, why not? i’ve never tried before."

joshua led you to the rink, his hand naturally brushing against yours as you approached the edge. there was a quiet moment between you, both of you standing there, bundled up in scarves and jackets, staring out at the ice. joshua grinned at you, his usual playful self returning just a little.

"okay, so," he began, his voice light. "first rule of skating: try not to fall."

"great," you muttered, already dreading the inevitable disaster that was about to unfold.

he laughed, a low, easy sound that filled the space between you. "don’t worry, i’ve got you. just hold onto my hand and follow my lead."

you hesitated but then took a deep breath, letting him guide you onto the ice. your legs wobbled beneath you at first, but joshua's grip on your hand was steady, reassuring. he guided you slowly, laughing when you nearly slipped.

"hey, you're doing better than i thought," he teased, his voice warm with the familiar teasing tone. "maybe i should start calling you a skating prodigy."

"please," you muttered, trying to ignore the flutter in your chest at the way his hand felt in yours. "i’m just not falling on my face yet."

joshua's grin widened. "yet."

you spent the next few minutes skating together, him teaching you the basics and laughing when you stumbled. the chill in the air seemed to disappear in his presence, replaced by something warm—something that settled in your chest every time his hand brushed against yours or he flashed you that smile. and yet, that nagging feeling still lingered, the one that told you something was off between you two.

finally, after a few more rounds on the rink, joshua stopped, pulling you to the side near a snow-covered path. the area was quieter now, the glow of the festival a distant memory behind you, and the snow felt like it had carved out a little world just for the two of you.

"i don’t want you to leave," joshua said, his voice quieter than before, his hand still holding yours, but this time, there was no teasing. only sincerity. "not just yet. i… i think i’ve caught feelings for you."

you blinked, taken aback by his confession. "joshua, i… i didn’t think you—"

"i know, i know," he interrupted, his face flushed from the cold and his words coming out a little rushed. "i've been acting distant, and i hate that i did, but i didn’t know how to say it. i just thought maybe you wouldn’t feel the same. or maybe you’d leave town and… well, then it would be too late."

you stood there for a moment, the weight of his words settling over you, mixing with the surprise and the warmth that bubbled up inside. it was hard to process, but the more you thought about it, the clearer it became.

"joshua," you said softly, your voice catching in your throat. "i didn't realize... but now that i know, i don’t want to leave things unsaid either."

he stepped a little closer, his gaze never leaving yours, and then, in a soft, sincere voice, he asked, "so… what does that mean? for us?"

you smiled, your heart suddenly light as the snow falling around you. "it means, i’m not leaving just yet. and maybe… just maybe… we should see where this goes."

joshua’s face broke into a grin, his relief palpable. but then, he hesitated, his eyes searching yours with a new intensity. "well, if that’s the case…" he began, his voice almost shy now. "how about you let me take you out on a date? nothing fancy, just… i don’t know, some hot cocoa and maybe a walk under the lights, or even a skating rink if you’re up for it?"

you felt your heart skip a beat. a date? it hadn’t even crossed your mind that he was thinking of this, of taking things further already. but the sincerity in his eyes, the way he held himself so openly, made you feel a warmth that spread through you.

"joshua…" you said, your smile growing, "i think that sounds pretty perfect."

his grin widened, and for a moment, it felt like the world had stopped moving around you. all that was left was the two of you, standing under the twinkling lights, the soft sound of falling snow, and the gentle press of his hand in yours.

"then it’s a date," he said, the playful spark returning to his eyes. "i promise, i’ll make it a night you won’t forget."

you laughed softly, feeling a little shy but also strangely giddy. "i’m looking forward to it," you replied, your voice lighter than it had been all evening.

the two of you stood there, the world quiet except for the soft hum of the holiday festivities in the distance, and as the snow continued to fall around you, you realized that this moment—this beginning—was more than you could’ve ever hoped for.

just as the two of you were about to say something, a snowball suddenly hit you in the back of the head, causing you to freeze in surprise.

"gotcha!" karina called out, her laughter ringing through the air. she was grinning mischievously, clearly delighted with herself. "you two look like you’re in your own little world over here, all lovey-dovey."

you turned to karina, your face flushed, and tried to glare at her, but it was hard to stay mad with the way her eyes were sparkling. before you could say anything, joshua was already brushing the snow off your coat, his hands gentle but quick.

"don’t want you to get cold," he said, his voice soft, but his eyes playful as he made sure no snow clung to you.

"oh, how sweet," karina teased, crossing her arms. "you’re really spoiling her now, huh?"

"well, someone has to take care of her," joshua shot back, a grin tugging at his lips as he wrapped his scarf tighter around your neck. you felt your heart warm at his protectiveness, but then—

"oh, it’s on," karina said, her tone wickedly playful as she scooped up a snowball, launching it straight at joshua.

he ducked easily, and with a smirk, he returned the favor. "watch out, karina!" he warned, before launching a snowball of his own in her direction.

within moments, snowballs were flying in every direction. karina and joshua were laughing and dodging, trying to outwit each other while you stood by, completely unprepared for the chaos.

"you’re just gonna stand there?" karina yelled, throwing another snowball, but you had no time to react. joshua immediately stepped in front of you, raising his arms to block the incoming snowball.

"stay behind me," he said firmly, his tone teasing but protective. "i won’t let you get hit."

"what?" you laughed, "you’re treating me like a princess or something."

"hey, you don’t have gloves on," he said, his eyes soft but mischievous. "besides, you’re too precious to get hit with a snowball."

you rolled your eyes, but the warmth in your chest made it impossible to say anything sarcastic. joshua had this way of making everything feel just a little bit magical.

"you better not be hiding behind him the whole time," karina shouted, tossing yet another snowball, but joshua dodged it easily, taking a few steps back to shield you further.

"i think i’ll hide behind him forever," you joked, poking joshua in the ribs as he grinned, clearly enjoying the attention.

before you could say anything else, karina threw a big snowball right at joshua, catching him off guard. the impact sent him stumbling backward, and before either of you knew it, he lost his balance completely and fell straight into the snow.

"oh no!" you gasped, quickly bending down to check on him. but as soon as you did, karina laughed triumphantly, her arms raised in victory.

"i finally got him!" she cheered.

but the celebration was short-lived, because in the next second, joshua reached up, grabbing your wrist, and pulled you down beside him. the two of you ended up laughing uncontrollably in the snow, your bodies making soft impressions in the cold ground as you rolled and tumbled together, trying to escape karina’s playful attacks.

"looks like we’re stuck now," joshua teased, his breath visible in the cold air as you both lay there, staring up at the sky, giggling.

"we’re definitely stuck," you agreed, a smile tugging at your lips as you made angel marks in the snow beside him, your body creating the perfect shape next to his. "this is nice."

"perfect, actually," joshua murmured, his voice low and warm as he reached over to take your hand, squeezing it gently. "snow angels with you? i can’t think of a better way to spend the night."

"me neither," you said softly, still laughing, but with a feeling of contentment filling you from head to toe. you looked at him, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to fade, leaving only the sound of your laughter and the soft, fluffy snow that surrounded you.

karina, watching from a distance, rolled her eyes dramatically. "you two are impossible," she muttered, but her smile was as warm as the Christmas lights twinkling overhead.

joshua turned to you, his grin wide and genuine, his eyes sparkling with something more than just playfulness now. "hey, maybe we can do this again tomorrow?" he asked, his voice filled with hope.

you smiled, your heart light as a snowflake. "i’d like that."

"good," he said, his hand still holding yours, his fingers brushing gently against yours. "because there’s no one else i’d rather make snow angels with."

after karina left to give the two of you some space (or maybe she was just going to find her next snowball victim), the quiet of the night settled in, with the soft crunch of snow beneath your boots as you walked together. the night was peaceful now, the only sound being the occasional giggle between you and joshua as you made your way back to where the lights twinkled in the distance.

as you were walking, joshua stopped suddenly, his eyes catching something above. you followed his gaze and found yourself staring at a mistletoe, hanging just above you both, tucked between two snowy branches of a nearby tree. the sight made your heart skip a beat.

"well, well," joshua said, his voice low and teasing, "looks like we’ve been caught under the mistletoe."

you looked up at him, trying to suppress a grin, but it was impossible. the way he was looking at you—like he was waiting for something, and maybe even hoping for something—made your cheeks heat up.

"what are we supposed to do now?" you teased, trying to play it cool, but the fluttering in your chest gave away just how nervous you were.

"i think you know exactly what to do," he replied with a smirk, his eyes softening as he stepped closer to you. snowflakes dusted his hair and shoulders, and his cheeks were still flushed from the cold, but his warmth—his presence—felt like a blanket around you.

you took a small step toward him, your heart racing. "maybe," you said softly, your breath mixing with the chilly air. "but it’s your turn to make the move."

joshua’s smile widened, his fingers brushing gently against your cheek, brushing away the stray snowflakes that had landed there. "well, if you insist," he murmured, his voice a tender whisper against the quiet night.

then, with a small laugh, he leaned in. the world around you seemed to slow down, the falling snowflakes swirling in the air, everything silent except for the beating of your hearts. his lips were warm against yours, and for that brief moment, everything else faded. there was only the softness of the kiss and the sparkling snow around you, as if the world had paused to give you this perfect moment.

when you pulled away, your noses still brushing, joshua chuckled softly. "i think that’s the best Christmas kiss i’ve ever had."

you laughed, feeling lighter than air. "i think i might agree," you said, your hand slipping into his as you both stood under the mistletoe, still covered in snow, but with warmth radiating between you.

"so," joshua said, squeezing your hand, "what else can we do to make this night even better?"

you smiled up at him, a mischievous glint in your eye. "we can start by making more snow angels."

joshua laughed, shaking his head. "always trying to get me into the snow, huh?"

"you’re lucky i like snow," you teased, nudging him playfully, your heart full of warmth despite the cold air around you.

"well, i’m lucky to be with you," he said, his voice full of sincerity. "this is the best christmas i’ve ever had."

"me too," you whispered, your heart swelling with happiness. and in that moment, with snow falling softly and the mistletoe still above you, everything felt perfectly, wonderfully right.

december with seventeen ! 3/13