#late bc I was lowkey dying

[tenderandmild]

Don’t they know the difference between silver and golden age All Might!?

[lumosou]

୨୧ — Breathing After the Ashes. 𖦹 , ✿ + ꕤ

ꕤ — Character(s) ; Harry J. Potter x Fem!Reader

ꕤ — Synopsis + Wc ; In the quiet after the storm, Harry learns to feel again—through stolen touches, whispered truths, and the solace of you. Together, you find warmth in the wreckage, and a reason to hold on. 7.9k

ꕤ — Discretion ; 18+ MDNI! angsty feelings alllll around, some fluff but mostly angstyish, the smut is so gentle and soft!!!!! mostly healing sex between reader & harry, they both need therapy.. penetrative sex! kisses as well 🫡

ꕤ — A/n ; this fic is lowkey my child but i also lowkey hate it! wtf! the pacing is kinda awkward and also repetitive bc this is genuinely the longest thing i’ve ever written and idk how to deal w it, bare with me i promise ill get better as i go 😭 i do hope u guys enjoy it somewhat!! reblogs and feedback are so so appreciated 🫶🏻

; masterlist.

The Great Hall wasn’t the same anymore. The enchanted ceiling still glowed with its usual charm, painted in amber hues that mirrored the late summer sunset, but the light felt muted somehow, swallowed by a weight too stubborn to dissipate. It hung in the air like smoke from a dying fire—bitter, clinging, impossible to outrun.

Harry sat at the Gryffindor table, the hum of voices around him blurring into an indistinct murmur. His eyes stayed fixed on his plate, laden with food he didn’t remember serving himself: roast chicken, mashed potatoes, a gleaming crescent of gravy. None of it tempted him. The thought of eating made his stomach twist uncomfortably, a dull ache that spread through his chest.

The war was over. Voldemort was gone, his name no longer a curse. This was supposed to be the part where relief set in, where everything hurt a little less. Instead, Harry felt as though he was still wading through the rubble, shoulders bowed under the crushing weight of those who hadn’t made it. Colin Creevey. Remus. Tonks. Fred. Their names were a mantra he couldn’t stop repeating in his head, their faces seared into his mind’s eye.

His grip on the fork tightened until it dug into his palm, the bite of metal a thin distraction.

“Harry.” Hermione’s voice was a soft thread that tugged him out of his spiral. He looked up, startled, to find her hand brushing against his arm. Concern clouded her features, her brows knitting together. “You don’t have to stay here. If it’s too much, you can—”

“I’m fine,” he snapped, sharper than he meant to. The words came out like a reflex, cutting her off mid-sentence. Hermione flinched, pulling back her hand, and for a fleeting moment, guilt gnawed at him. But he shoved it down. He didn’t want her worry, her pity. He didn’t want any of it.

Ron shifted beside him, chewing on a hunk of bread like it was his way out of the tension. He didn’t speak, though Harry could feel the sideways glance he shot him. The silence stretched, thick and uncomfortable, until Harry let out a slow, controlled breath and placed his fork on the plate. The metallic clang rang louder than it should’ve, making him wince.

The scrape of his chair against the floor cut through the noise of the hall as he stood abruptly. “I need some air,” he muttered, already turning away.

He didn’t wait for Hermione to protest or Ron to offer some half-hearted comment to fill the space. His feet carried him toward the door, away from the low hum of conversation and clinking dishes. Toward the one place in all of Hogwarts where the noise couldn’t follow. Where he could finally, maybe, breathe.

─────────────

The Astronomy Tower had always been Harry’s escape. Perched high above the rest of the castle, it was the only place where the world felt distant enough to bear. The sprawling grounds stretched out below him, bathed in the purples and blues of dusk, and for a brief moment, the sight eased the tension coiled in his chest. He leaned heavily against the stone railing, its chill biting through his sleeves, and the wind making his already wild hair even messier. It carried the sharp, clean scent of freshly cut grass, grounding him in the present even as his thoughts drifted elsewhere.

The sound of footsteps startled him—not loud, but enough to break the fragile stillness he’d sought. He turned sharply, hand brushing the wand tucked in his pocket, only to pause when a voice cut through the quiet.

“Are you hiding too?” you asked, lingering near the top of the stairs. The dim light softened your features, but it didn’t quite mask the curiosity behind your words. There was no malice in your tone, only a quiet humor that made his shoulders drop slightly.

“I wasn’t hiding,” Harry said automatically, though even to his ears, the denial sounded weak.

You tilted your head, unconvinced. A faint smile ghosted across your lips, but your eyes remained guarded, unreadable. “Right. You’re just conveniently up here, avoiding everyone, the same way I am.”

Harry shifted uncomfortably, his fingers brushing the edge of the railing. He didn’t respond, unsure how to defend himself—or if he even wanted to. There was something about the way you stood there, hands loosely at your sides, your voice soft but steady, that caught him off guard. It wasn’t pity or prying curiosity, just… understanding. Like you could see the weight pressing down on him and felt no need to ask what it was. Like maybe you carried some of it yourself.

He swallowed hard, his gaze flicking back to the horizon. “I guess you’re not.. wrong.’’

You stepped closer with quiet purpose, each movement deliberate, as though gauging the fragile equilibrium of Harry’s silence. He didn’t flinch or shift away, didn’t so much as glance at you. His gaze stayed locked on the horizon, but you could feel the weight of his awareness, the way the air between you seemed to hold its breath. When you finally stopped beside him at the railing, the stillness wasn’t stifling. It was tentative, balanced, as though it might shatter if either of you spoke too loudly.

“It doesn’t feel like the same place, does it?” Your voice was soft, your eyes fixed on the horizon as the last threads of sunlight dissolved into the hills. The sky deepened into shades of indigo and amber, blurring the edges of the world.

Harry nodded, though the motion felt stiff, half-hearted. “No,” he said, but the word came out hollow, too small to carry the weight behind it.

You leaned forward on the railing, fingers brushing the cool stone. “It’s strange,” you murmured, more to the sky than to him. “You think coming back will fix things, like the castle will just… feel the same. Like being here should make it easier. But it doesn’t. It’s all still different.”

Harry turned his head slightly, his gaze catching yours out of the corner of his eye. He didn’t mean to linger, but your words struck something raw, something he hadn’t managed to put into words. You’d said it so simply, yet it was exactly what had been clawing at him for months.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “It’s not the same.”

Your eyes flicked to him, your expression unreadable. “And neither are you.”

The observation hit like a hex, sharper than you’d probably meant it to. Harry’s jaw tightened, his hands curling into fists against the stone. “Nobody is,” he said, his voice low and edged with a bitterness he didn’t entirely mean to direct at you.

But you didn’t flinch. You didn’t back away or apologize for the truth in your words. Instead, you tilted your head slightly, a flicker of understanding softening your tone. “I didn’t mean it as a bad thing,” you said, your voice gentler now. “War changes people. It has to.”

He wanted to argue, to say something sharp and deflective, but the words caught in his throat. Because you weren’t wrong. He wasn’t the same person who had fought his way out of the Chamber of Secrets or stood in front of the Mirror of Erised. He wasn’t sure who he was now—just that he wasn’t enough.

The silence stretched again, but this time it felt different. Not heavy, not empty, but something quieter, more bearable. Your arm brushed his lightly as you leaned forward on the railing, the contact fleeting yet somehow electric. He stiffened, his pulse jolting unexpectedly, and he waited for you to pull away. But you didn’t.

“You don’t have to talk about it,” you said after a moment, your voice low, steady. “I just thought you might not want to be alone. Sometimes it helps.”

He swallowed, his throat dry, and tried to muster some kind of response. He wanted to tell you he didn’t need anyone, that he was fine—had always been fine—on his own. But the words wouldn’t come. Maybe because they weren’t true.

“Thanks,” he said eventually, his voice barely audible, as though saying it too loudly might break whatever fragile thing had settled between you.

Your lips curved into the faintest smile, one that felt less like triumph and more like an offering. You leaned back against the railing, gaze lifting to the stars beginning to scatter across the night sky. They blinked faintly in the deepening dark, small points of light that somehow didn’t feel so far away.

For the first time in weeks—months, maybe—Harry let the tension in his chest ease just a little. The world still felt impossibly heavy, but next to you, it didn’t feel so crushing.

Maybe you were right. Maybe not being alone did help.

─────────────

The two of you stayed there, side by side, the silence between you settling into something quieter, more natural. Harry’s hands curled around the cold stone of the railing, the familiar feel grounding him as his eyes traced the lines of the grounds below. The weight on his chest hadn’t vanished, not completely, but your presence dulled its sharp edges, made it something he could carry, if only for a little while.

“You don’t talk much, do you?” Your voice cut through the stillness—not loud, not accusing, just curious.

Harry turned his head toward you, startled by the observation. But you weren’t looking at him. Your gaze stayed on the horizon, your features lit faintly by the glow of the rising stars.

He shrugged, the motion small, self-contained. “Guess I don’t have much to say.”

You hummed softly, the sound low and thoughtful, almost like you were agreeing with him. “Sometimes it’s easier that way,” you murmured. “Less to explain.”

His grip on the railing tightened, knuckles pressing white against the stone. He wanted to ask how you could say something like that, how you seemed to know exactly what he was thinking when he hadn’t even said it aloud. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. Some part of him was afraid that asking might shatter whatever strange, fragile understanding hung between you.

“Not everyone sees it that way,” he muttered instead. “Most people just want me to talk. Like if I say something, it’ll fix everything.”

You turned your head then, and he felt your gaze settle on him—steady, unflinching, impossible to avoid. “They probably think it’ll make them feel better,” you said, your voice calm but edged with certainty.

Harry blinked, the words landing harder than he expected. He hadn’t thought about it like that before, but of course, you were right. People didn’t just want him to be okay—they needed it. They needed Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, to be fine so they could tell themselves that things might still go back to the way they were.

“But it’s not about them,” you added, your tone softening just slightly, as though you’d noticed the way his jaw tightened. “It’s about you.”

The words struck something deep, loosening a knot he hadn’t realized had been pulling him taut all day. He turned to look at you fully now, his gaze searching your face for something he couldn’t name. But you weren’t watching him like everyone else did. There was no pity in your expression, no awkwardness. Just quiet understanding.

“Why are you up here?” he asked, the question spilling out before he had time to think better of it. He didn’t want to talk about himself anymore, didn’t want to keep peeling open wounds that hadn’t even begun to heal.

You hesitated, just for a moment, as if deciding whether or not to answer. Then your lips quirked into a faint smile—tired, almost self-deprecating. “Guess I needed to get away too. Being around people all the time… it’s exhausting.”

He nodded slowly. That, at least, he didn’t need explained. The noise, the questions, the endless parade of looks that didn’t ask but expected—it was suffocating. Up here, though, the castle below felt distant enough to forget, just for a little while.

“It’s different up here,” he said after a pause, though he wasn’t sure he’d meant to say it out loud.

You glanced at him again, your expression softer now, as though something in his words had shifted the space between you.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he added quietly, surprising himself with the honesty of it.

You blinked, tilting your head like you hadn’t expected it either. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

And for the first time in what felt like forever, the tension in his chest eased, just a fraction. Whatever warmth flickered there wasn’t tied to the war or his title or anything he’d done to save the world. It wasn’t about being Harry Potter. It was just you.

You gave him a small, knowing smile, and for a moment, the weight of everything slipped from Harry’s shoulders. The ghosts quieted, the endless expectations faded, and the hollow ache that lived in his chest dulled just enough. Up here, with you beside him, the rest of the world felt far away, like it couldn’t reach him.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” you said lightly, leaning back against the railing, arms folding across your chest. The breeze stirred your hair, the faint scent of pine and earth clinging to it, and Harry found himself watching the way the dim light softened your features.

“The Boy Who Lived doesn’t strike me as someone who needs anyone.”

Harry’s lips quirked into a faint smirk, but the warmth of it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Is that what people think?”

You tilted your head, considering. “People think all sorts of things about you. Half of it’s probably rubbish.”

That drew a soft laugh from him, low and unexpected. The sound sat strangely in his chest, but it didn’t feel unwelcome. “You’re probably right.”

You glanced at him then, head tilted, your gaze curious but not intrusive. It wasn’t the sharp, prying look he was used to, the one that demanded answers or apologies or pieces of him he didn’t have to give. Instead, it was quieter, like you were searching for something without expecting him to offer it. Harry shifted under the weight of it, his fingers curling tighter around the railing, but before he could say anything, you spoke again.

“Sometimes I think people forget you’re just… human.”

The words caught him off guard, sinking into him like a stone dropped into water. You didn’t say it with pity or reverence—just a soft kind of honesty that made his breath catch. It was like you weren’t talking to Harry Potter, the Chosen One, but just Harry, the boy standing beside you on a cold, quiet night.

For a moment, he couldn’t respond. The silence between you stretched, filled with a thousand things he wanted to say but couldn’t find the words for. “Sometimes I forget that too,” he said finally, the confession slipping out before he could stop it. His voice was barely audible, and yet it felt louder than anything he’d said in months. “It’s like… if I’m not fighting or fixing something, I don’t know who I’m supposed to be.”

You turned to face him fully now, your expression soft but steady. “Maybe you don’t have to figure that out right now,” you said. “Maybe it’s okay to just… be.”

The simplicity of it stunned him. Just be. As though it were that easy. As though he could strip himself of everything he carried and exist without purpose or expectation. Harry’s grip on the railing tightened. “I don’t know if I even know how to do that anymore.”

“Maybe you don’t have to do it alone.”

The words hung in the air between you, weightless and heavy all at once. Harry’s gaze lifted to meet yours, his heart stumbling in his chest. You weren’t looking at him the way most people did, like he was a puzzle to solve or a hero to rely on. You were looking at him like he was… enough.

He swallowed, his throat dry. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

Your lips curved into a soft smile, but there was something in your eyes—something faintly sad and yet unwavering. “Because I think you need it.”

The knot in his chest twisted, a sharp ache he hadn’t felt in years threatening to rise to the surface. He blinked hard, pushing it back, refusing to let it crack him open. Not here. Not now.

His hand moved almost without thinking, brushing against yours where it rested on the stone. It was a light touch, tentative and fleeting, but enough to send a jolt through him. He froze, half expecting you to pull away, to retreat the way everyone else eventually did.

But you didn’t.

The touch lingered, delicate and unspoken, neither of you pulling away. It wasn’t an accident, nor was it intentional in a way that required words. It just was, the kind of quiet moment Harry didn’t know how to name—simple, yet heavy with meaning. His gaze dropped to your hand, where your fingers just barely grazed his, and something unfamiliar stirred in him, warm and disorienting.

“I’m not used to this,” he murmured, the words slipping out before he could stop them. The night breeze nearly carried them away, but you heard him.

You turned your head, curiosity softening your expression. “Used to what?”

“Someone just… being here.” He let out a dry laugh, short and humorless, as if mocking himself. “Most people either avoid me or expect something.”

Your fingers shifted, brushing his more firmly, the subtle movement grounding him. “I don’t expect anything, Harry.”

His name, spoken so gently, without expectation or weight—it shouldn’t have struck him the way it did. But it lodged in his chest, the simplicity of it making his stomach twist. You weren’t trying to be anything other than honest, and somehow that made it worse.

He looked at you then, really looked at you. The moonlight played across your features, softening the edges, casting faint shadows against your skin. Your gaze met his and didn’t waver, holding steady in a way that made his chest tighten. There was something solid about you, something he couldn’t explain but couldn’t deny either. An anchor, maybe, in a world that had only ever felt like chaos.

“I don’t know how to…” The sentence faltered, crumbling before it could finish. Harry shook his head slightly, as if that might hide his frustration. How to what, exactly? Let someone in? Say what he was feeling? Be himself again?

“You don’t have to explain anything,” you said, like you could read his mind. Your voice was low, steady, but kind. “I meant it. You don’t have to do this alone. Whatever this is.”

A lump rose in his throat, the kind that tightened every word into silence, but he nodded, managing a quiet, “Thanks.” It felt small, inadequate, but you didn’t seem to mind. You just gave him a smile—small but warm, like the kind of light you don’t notice until it chases away the dark.

For a while, neither of you said anything. The silence wrapped around you, not heavy or cold, but something softer now. Warm, even. Harry let himself sink into it, his shoulders easing, his usual tension slipping away bit by bit. He glanced down at the grounds, the glow of the castle windows below casting long, soft shadows over the grass.

“Do you ever think about leaving?” you asked suddenly, your voice breaking the quiet but not shattering it.

Harry blinked, caught off guard. “Leaving Hogwarts?”

You nodded. “Yeah. Just… walking away. Starting over somewhere far from all of this.”

He hesitated, the idea catching him in a way he wasn’t expecting. The thought of leaving everything—this castle, its whispers, the weight of who he was supposed to be—was both terrifying and strangely tempting. To go somewhere he could just be Harry, without the war, without the name, without the constant pull of the past.

“Sometimes,” he admitted, the word quiet but honest. “But… I don’t think I could. I don’t know who I’d be without all of this.”

You nodded, like you understood. “Maybe that’s something you figure out with time.”

There was no judgment in your voice, just patience, and that startled him more than the question itself. Harry turned to look at you, searching your face for something he couldn’t name. You weren’t pushing him. You weren’t rushing him to have answers he didn’t have. And somehow, that made him ache.

“What about you?” he asked, the words coming out before he could stop them. “Would you leave?”

Your smile was faint, wistful, like the question had passed through you a thousand times already. “I think about it. But I always come back to the same answer.” You paused, your gaze slipping to the horizon. “I don’t think running away fixes anything.”

He nodded slowly, letting the words sink in. “Yeah. You’re probably right.”

You laughed softly, and the sound caught him by surprise. It wasn’t loud, but it was real, and it made something in his chest ease. “Only probably?”

The corner of his mouth twitched, the ghost of a smile finally breaking through. “Fine. You’re definitely right.”

“There you go,” you teased, your tone lighter now. “See? That wasn’t so hard.”

It was strange how the conversation shifted, how the tension between you melted into something easier. Lighter. For the first time in longer than he could remember, Harry felt himself relax into the moment, his guard lowering just enough to let the night and your presence settle over him. For once, the weight on his shoulders didn’t feel so crushing. For once, the world outside the two of you could wait.

─────────────

The hours blurred together, the sky above deepening into a velvety indigo scattered with stars. The castle had fallen silent, the faint hum of voices and clatter of dishes from the Great Hall fading into memory. You hadn’t moved far from him, and Harry found himself noticing—really noticing—how the quiet didn’t feel oppressive anymore. It wasn’t heavy or suffocating. It was just… there. And for the first time in what felt like forever, it was bearable.

When you turned to him, your gaze was steady, searching but not invasive. “Do you think you’ll ever feel normal again?”

The question caught him off guard. It wasn’t laced with pity or weighed down with expectation—it was just honest. Simple. It twisted something inside him all the same. Harry swallowed hard, the knot in his chest pulling tighter.

“I don’t know what normal is,” he admitted, his voice low, like he was confessing something fragile to the night itself. “Maybe I.. never really did.”

You nodded, like that answer didn’t surprise you. Like it wasn’t the wrong one. “I think a lot of us feel that way.”

You didn’t push, didn’t prod for more, and that—more than anything—made him want to keep going.

“When it ended…” He trailed off, his eyes dropping to his hands on the railing. They looked unfamiliar, scarred and pale against the stone. “I thought it would stop. The hurt. I thought I’d feel relieved.” His jaw tightened, and the next words slipped out like they had been waiting for years. “But it didn’t. And now I don’t know if it ever will.”

The admission hung in the air, raw and vulnerable. Harry’s fingers curled against the railing, the cold bite of the stone grounding him. He didn’t look at you—he couldn’t. He didn’t know what he’d see in your eyes, and some part of him was afraid of it.

“You lost so much,” you said softly, your voice steady but laced with something achingly gentle. “It’s okay to feel like that. No one expects you to just move on.”

Harry let out a hollow laugh, bitter and quiet. “Everyone expects me to be fine. To be Harry Potter, the one who saved everyone.” He gestured vaguely to himself, his voice cracking under the weight of it. “They don’t want to see this. Whatever this is.”

“I do,” you said, your voice unwavering.

The words hit him like a punch to the chest, knocking the air clean out of him. His head snapped up, his eyes meeting yours. There was no hesitation in your expression, no doubt. Just quiet sincerity, so clear and certain it left him breathless.

“Why?” The question fell from his lips before he could stop it.

You shrugged, a faint, bittersweet smile curving your lips. “Because… you’re more than what everyone sees. And because I think you deserve someone who doesn’t just want the shiny bits of you.”

Harry stared at you, his chest tightening painfully. He didn’t know how to respond, didn’t know how to process something so simple yet staggering. No one had ever said anything like that to him before—at least, not in a way that felt this real.

The air between you shifted, heavier now, like it was carrying something unspoken, something fragile but undeniable. You weren’t touching, but Harry could still feel the warmth of you beside him, like a presence he didn’t want to lose. His heart pounded harder, the sound of it loud in his ears.

“I don’t think I deserve it,” he said quietly, his voice barely audible.

Your brows knit together, a flicker of sadness crossing your face, but you didn’t look away. Instead, you stepped closer, close enough that he could see the faint curve of your lashes, the soft press of your lips. “I think you do.”

Harry inhaled sharply, his grip tightening on the railing as you moved into his space. His pulse thundered, and his mind raced with the weight of the moment, with how close you were, with the quiet pull of something he wasn’t sure he had the strength to reach for.

“I don’t want to screw this up,” he whispered, the words raw and fractured.

“You won’t,” you said softly, your voice steady but kind. “But you don’t have to decide anything right now.”

His eyes flicked to your lips, then back to your eyes, and he felt something shift in him—like a thread unraveling after being pulled too tight for too long. Slowly, almost hesitantly, he reached out, his fingers brushing yours again.

This time, you didn’t just let the touch linger. You let your fingers twine with his, warm and certain, the weight of it enough to crack the walls he’d been holding up for so long.

Harry’s breath hitched as your fingers laced with his, the touch so simple yet carrying the weight of something he didn’t quite know how to name. It sent a ripple through him—a warmth that started in his chest and spread outward, leaving a faint ache in its wake. His grip tightened slightly, hesitant but sure, and he drew in a shaky breath, trying to ground himself in the moment.

You didn’t push him, didn’t say a word. You just stayed there, steady and close, your thumb brushing softly over the back of his hand. The stars above blurred into the edges of his vision, the castle fading into shadow. The world narrowed until it was only you, your touch, and the quiet hum of something unspoken between you.

“I don’t know how to do this,” he admitted, his voice low and uneven. His green eyes searched yours, wide and vulnerable in a way that made his chest feel both too tight and too open. “I don’t know how to let myself… feel like this.”

You didn’t flinch or pull back. Instead, you gave him a small, steady smile, your free hand lifting, hovering just near his arm, a silent question. “You don’t have to know how. You just have to let it happen.”

Harry exhaled, shaky and raw, but didn’t pull away. If anything, he leaned closer, his forehead almost brushing yours. His heart pounded so loudly it drowned out everything else, but for once, he didn’t care. He was tired of holding himself together, of keeping everyone out, of pretending he didn’t need this.

And then, almost instinctively, he closed the space between you.

The kiss was gentle, hesitant, like he was afraid of breaking something fragile. Or maybe breaking himself. But the moment your hand slid to his cheek, grounding him, something inside him unraveled. He pressed deeper into the kiss, his other hand rising to rest lightly at your waist. It wasn’t desperate or hurried—it was slow, deliberate, filled with everything he couldn’t put into words.

Your fingers threaded into his hair, pulling him closer, and Harry felt something crack open in his chest. It wasn’t pain, but a kind of aching relief, as though he’d been holding his breath for years and was finally allowed to exhale. For the first time in what felt like forever, he wasn’t drowning.

When you finally pulled back, your breaths mingling in the cool night air, Harry didn’t go far. His forehead rested lightly against yours, his hand still at your waist, his fingers curling slightly against the fabric as though afraid you might disappear if he let go.

“Sorry,” he murmured, though there was no regret in his voice, only uncertainty. “I… I didn’t mean to—”

“Don’t apologize,” you interrupted, your voice soft but certain. Your hand slid down to rest over his chest, where his heart still raced beneath your touch. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

A quiet laugh slipped from him, more a sigh than anything else. “I’m not used to this.”

“Neither am I,” you admitted, your fingers tracing small, absent shapes against the fabric of his shirt. “But.. I think we’re allowed to have this. Even after everything.”

Your words settled deep in his chest, heavy and grounding in a way that didn’t feel like a burden. He didn’t know if he fully believed you—not yet—but for the first time, he wanted to. He wanted to let himself try, to let himself have this, even if it scared him.

“Stay,” he said quietly, the word barely above a whisper. It wasn’t a question. It was a plea.

Your lips curved into a small, tender smile, and you nodded. “I’m not going anywhere.”

─────────────

The space between you thrummed with tension, the kind that wasn’t uncomfortable but electric, alive with everything unspoken. Harry’s hand lingered at your waist, the tips of his fingers brushing against the fabric of your shirt, hesitant but wanting. His other hand gripped the railing behind you, steadying himself as he leaned in, his lips hovering just shy of yours. Your heart pounded, loud enough to drown out the quiet of the night.

You didn’t pull away. Instead, you tilted closer, your fingers curling into the front of his shirt, clutching the soft cotton as though it might keep you tethered. His breath ghosted over your lips, warm and uneven, and when he kissed you again, it was different this time—no hesitation, no doubt.

It started slow, the way it had before, soft and searching. But when you pressed closer, your body molding against his, something inside him gave way. The kiss deepened, shifting into something more urgent, more unrestrained, as if the careful control he had been holding onto had finally slipped. His grip on your waist tightened, pulling you flush against him, and for a moment, nothing else existed but the heat between you.

Your hands slid up his chest, fingers trailing over the steady thrum of his heartbeat. He felt so solid beneath your palms, so real, and yet the way he kissed you was anything but careful. Your hands found his shoulders, clutching tightly as he kissed you harder, his need for you palpable. One of his hands left the railing to thread through your hair, his fingers tangling there with a kind of reverence that sent a shiver down your spine.

The rough stone at your back was cool, grounding, but it was nothing compared to the warmth of Harry’s body pressed against yours. He seemed to be everywhere at once, overwhelming in the best way.

“Is this okay?” he murmured against your lips, his voice rough and unsteady.

You nodded quickly, your breath catching as he kissed you again, more certain this time. “Yes,” you managed to whisper, your voice trembling. Your fingers slid to the nape of his neck, brushing against the soft, slightly damp strands of his hair. “More than okay.”

That was all the encouragement he needed. His lips left yours, trailing down along your jaw, slow and deliberate. When he reached the curve of your neck, the heat of his breath against your skin sent a spark shooting through you, and you couldn’t stop the quiet sound that escaped your lips.

The noise seemed to break something in him. His hand slid lower, from your waist to your hip, his thumb grazing the bare skin just above the waistband of your jeans. His name slipped from your lips without thinking, and Harry groaned softly, the sound reverberating against your throat. He pressed you more firmly against the railing, his body bracketing yours as though he wanted to block out the rest of the world.

His mouth continued its path along the line of your throat, slow and reverent, stopping just above the collar of your shirt. Every kiss left a trail of fire in its wake, every touch pulling you deeper into him.

“Tell me if—” he started, his voice hoarse and uneven, but you cut him off, your hands gripping his shirt to pull him back up to kiss you again. This time, you were the one who deepened it, letting him feel the weight of everything you couldn’t say. He responded instantly, his hands roaming over your waist, your hips, your back, as though trying to memorize the shape of you.

You broke the kiss only when you couldn’t breathe, your forehead resting against his as you whispered, “Not here.”

Harry froze for a moment, his breath heavy against your lips, his eyes locked on yours. They were dark, intense, filled with something raw and vulnerable. You half-expected him to hesitate, but instead, he nodded, his hand sliding down to find yours. His grip was warm, firm, and steady, like it was the only thing anchoring him.

“Come on,” he said quietly, his voice low and sure.

You didn’t need to ask where. You just followed, your hand in his, trusting him completely.

─────────────

Harry led you through the castle’s dim corridors, his hand steady in yours. The silence wasn’t awkward—it buzzed with anticipation, each step echoing softly against the stone walls. His grip was firm but gentle, grounding you in the moment, though the occasional brush of his thumb against your skin sent a quiet thrill through you, making it harder to focus on anything but him.

He didn’t tell you where he was taking you, and you didn’t ask. You trusted him completely.

When he stopped, it was outside an empty classroom near the Charms corridor. The door creaked softly as he pushed it open, revealing a quiet space bathed in silvery moonlight pouring through tall, arched windows. The room was unremarkable, desks and chairs pushed to the sides, but it felt secluded—safe. A haven away from the weight of everything outside.

Harry let go of your hand only to close the door behind you, locking it with a flick of his wand. The soft click echoed in the stillness, and your pulse quickened as he turned back to face you. His gaze met yours, sharp and intense, and for a moment, you felt frozen under the weight of it.

“Is this okay?” he asked, his voice low, almost uncertain.

You didn’t answer with words. Instead, you stepped forward, your hands finding the front of his shirt again, pulling him down into a kiss that left no room for doubt. His lips met yours hungrily, and his hands found your waist, anchoring you against him. This time, there was no hesitation in the way he held you, his touch firm but reverent, like he’d been waiting for this moment as long as you had.

The kiss deepened quickly, the tension that had simmered between you all night spilling over like floodwaters. His hands slid up your back, pulling you closer, his body pressed against yours like he couldn’t bear even a breath of space between you. Your fingers found the hem of his shirt, tugging it upward, and he broke the kiss only long enough to let you pull it over his head, the fabric falling to the floor.

Your gaze drifted over his chest, tracing the faint scars etched across his skin, each one a reminder of everything he’d endured. The moonlight highlighted every line, every curve of muscle, and for a moment, he looked vulnerable—unsure. His chest rose and fell quickly, his nerves evident, but you didn’t let him linger there.

Your fingers brushed over his scars, soft and deliberate, and you leaned in to kiss him again. He melted into it, his hesitance replaced by a quiet urgency as his hands slid to your hips. His lips left yours to trail down your jaw, finding your neck, his kisses slow and infused with something akin to hunger. The heat of his mouth against your skin made you shiver, your breath catching as his fingers found the hem of your shirt and lifted it.

You raised your arms to let him pull it off, and when he stepped back just slightly, his gaze lingered on you in the moonlight, reverent and full of something raw that made warmth bloom low in your stomach.

“You’re incredible,” he murmured, his voice barely audible, as though he wasn’t sure he was allowed to say it aloud.

Before you could respond, he kissed you again, his hands wandering your sides and back, like he was mapping every inch of you. You barely noticed the edge of a desk pressing into the backs of your thighs as he guided you backward, his movements growing bolder with each passing moment.

Your fingers drifted down his chest, following the ridges of his muscles until they found the waistband of his jeans. You worked the button free, and Harry let out a low groan, his forehead dropping to yours, his breath warm against your lips.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice strained, his green eyes searching yours with an intensity that made your heart stumble.

“I’m sure,” you whispered, your voice steady despite the whirlwind of nerves and desire coursing through you. “I want this. I want you.”

Something in his expression shifted, the raw emotion behind his gaze making your chest ache. He kissed you again, slower this time, as though he was trying to pour every unsaid word, every feeling he couldn’t name, into the press of his lips.

His hands gripped your thighs, lifting you onto the desk with ease. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, the warmth of him against you making your breath hitch. Every touch, every kiss, every whispered sound felt all-consuming, pulling you deeper into him.

The world outside disappeared. There was no war, no expectations, no fear. Just Harry—the feel of his hands, the heat of his mouth, the quiet way he murmured your name like it was the only thing keeping him grounded.

For the first time in what felt like forever, the weight you both carried didn’t matter. In this moment, there was nothing but the two of you, and that was enough.

Harry’s hands gripped your thighs firmly, his touch grounding and electric all at once. His kisses grew hungrier, more insistent, his mouth moving against yours like he’d been holding back for far too long. The edge of the desk pressed into your back, but the slight discomfort melted away beneath the heat of his body pressing against yours. Everything about him—his hands, his lips, the low, ragged sounds he made—consumed you entirely.

Your fingers worked at the top of his jeans, fumbling slightly in your haste. Harry groaned softly against your mouth as you finally managed to pull them down, his breath hitching sharply when your hands slipped below the waistband of his boxers brushing against the heated skin just above his throbbing length. His hips jerked slightly at the contact, and the sound that escaped his lips was low and guttural, sending a rush of heat spiraling through you.

He pulled back slightly, just enough to look at you. His green eyes were dark, heavy-lidded, and filled with something raw that made your pulse stutter. His hands slid to your hips, fingers brushing against the hem of your jeans. “Can I?” he asked, his voice low and rough, barely steady.

“Please,” you breathed, lifting your hips to help him.

His gaze stayed locked on you as he slid your jeans down, the fabric brushing against your skin in a way that left you shivering. The look in his eyes made your breath catch—a mixture of reverence and want, like he couldn’t quite believe you were real. His hands trembled slightly as he tossed the jeans aside, and the way his gaze raked over you, slow and deliberate, made warmth bloom low in your stomach.

“You’re…” He trailed off, his words faltering as his eyes met yours again. He didn’t need to finish the sentence; the intensity in his expression said everything his voice couldn’t.

You reached for him, pulling him closer until his bare chest pressed against yours. The heat of his skin against yours sent a shiver through you, and when his hands slid back to your thighs, parting them just slightly, you gasped quietly. His lips found yours again, slower this time, deeper. Each kiss was deliberate, filled with a need that made your whole body tremble.

One of his hands slipped between your legs, his fingers brushing against the fabric of your underwear. The touch was tentative at first, testing, but when a soft moan slipped from your lips, his confidence grew. His fingers pressed more firmly, tracing the heat of you through the fabric, and you arched into his touch instinctively, the sensation overwhelming.

“God, you’re so—” Harry broke off with a groan, his free hand gripping your thigh tightly as you rolled your hips against his hand. His breathing was unsteady now, ragged and uneven. “You’re perfect.”

The words sent a jolt of pleasure through you, making your pulse race. You reached for him, your fingers slipping beneath the waistband of his boxers, finally pulling the restrictive barrier between the two of you down. His forehead dropped to your shoulder as your hand wrapped around him, the heat and weight of him making your own breath falter. He let out a strangled moan, his hips rocking instinctively into your touch.

“Wait,” he murmured, his voice tight, like he was holding on to the last threads of control. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands trembling as they moved to your waist. “I want to—can I—”

You nodded quickly, your cheeks warm, reaching for him again to help guide his length inside you. The desk creaked faintly as he stepped closer, his hands finding your hips as he lined himself up with you. He hesitated, his eyes meeting yours, and for a moment, the world stilled.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice softer this time, steady but full of emotion.

“Yes,” you whispered, your voice sure despite the nerves and anticipation rushing through you. “I want this, Harry. I want you—all of you.”

That was all he needed.

Harry leaned in, his lips finding yours again as he pushed forward, slow and purposeful. The initial stretch made you tense, your fingers instinctively tightening against his shoulders. But then his breath brushed warm against your cheek, and the soft, shaky sound he let out as he slid deeper sent a ripple through you, easing the tension and replacing it with something else entirely—something that left you breathless.

“You okay?” he murmured, his forehead pressing against yours. His voice was tight, laced with restraint, and it made your heart ache in the best way.

“Yes,” you whispered, your nails digging lightly into his skin as your body adjusted to him. “Just… don’t stop.”

His jaw tightened, and he nodded, his hands trembling slightly where they gripped your waist. He started to move, his hips rolling in a slow, achingly delicious rhythm that made your breath catch. Each motion sent a wave of heat building steadily through you, your body arching instinctively toward his as though you couldn’t get close enough.

“God,” he groaned, the sound rough and raw as it left him. His hands slid down to your thighs, lifting you slightly to meet his thrusts, and the shift made you gasp. Your head fell back against the desk as the new angle sent a spark shooting through you. “You feel so—”

The rest of his words broke off into a low curse, his lips finding your neck again as his movements quickened. The world beyond the room ceased to exist—the only things that mattered were the soft creak of the desk beneath you, the heat of his body against yours, and the quiet, desperate noises that escaped him with every thrust.

Your hips tilted to meet his rhythm, and the friction left you dizzy, sparks lighting beneath your skin. Your hands slid into his hair, tangling in the messy strands as his face buried in the curve of your shoulder. His breath was hot against your skin, and each groan that escaped his lips sent a shiver coursing down your spine, your body arching into his as the pressure low in your belly coiled tighter.

“Harry,” you gasped, his name tumbling from your lips like a plea, raw and unrestrained. His response was a groan that seemed to echo through you, his hands gripping your hips tighter, his touch almost possessive as he pulled you closer.

“You’re gorgeous,” he murmured, the words rough against your skin, reverent and awed. His voice broke slightly as he added, “I—I can’t…”

“Don’t hold back,” you whispered, your voice trembling but sure. Your hands slid down his back, clutching at his waist to anchor yourself. “I’m here. I’ve got you.”

For a brief moment, his pace faltered, his forehead pressing against yours as though grounding himself in the moment. And then he kissed you again, hard and desperate, his lips crashing into yours as though he needed you more than air. His rhythm grew uneven, each thrust deeper, more precise, until the tension inside you snapped.

The wave that crashed over you left you trembling, your body shuddering in his arms as the heat and intensity overwhelmed you. His name slipped from your lips again, barely audible, as you clung to him.

Moments later, Harry followed, his movements faltering as he buried himself in you one final time. A low, guttural sound escaped his lips as he trembled against you, his forehead dropping to yours. His breaths came fast and ragged, his chest heaving as he held you close, his hands gripping your hips as though afraid to let go.

For a long time, neither of you moved. The room was silent except for the soft hum of your breathing, the faint rustle of fabric as Harry shifted, wrapping his arms more securely around you. He pulled you close, his body still trembling faintly, and you rested your head against his shoulder, your fingers tracing aimless patterns across his back.

“Are you okay?” he asked after a moment, his voice hoarse but filled with quiet concern.

A soft smile tugged at your lips, and you tilted your head just enough to brush a kiss against his neck. “More than okay,” you whispered.

Harry let out a quiet laugh, low and warm, his arms tightening around you. “Me too,” he murmured, his lips brushing lightly against your temple.

Finally, for what seemed like an eternity. Everything felt right, it felt okay. Like harry could just..exist again.

﹙@ 𝗹𝘂𝗺𝗼𝘀𝗼𝘂 ﹚

[xxgoldie]

went to karaoke and someone sang crush by david archuleta so now im thinking abt lighter romance enthusiast lorenz also listening to the most pining songs just the sappiest playlist known to man

as usual, i am Obsessed with lighter being down bad. he's such a fucking dork, i need him. have been listening to a variety of love song playlists for the last few days as i write this and its not helped the brainrot. cw: none, pure fluff, gn!reader wc: 444 (or 618 with the bonus)

when he's out and about, he tends to listen to metal and rock, the same kind of stuff that's in his demo trailer. it gets him in the right headspace for his champion duties. when he's alone, though? his headphones are playing exclusively sappy glitter-gel-pen love songs. he would rather die than let anyone know, he has an image to upkeep - wouldn't even put it past him to have a second spotify account, bc u know the girls will bug him to see his wrapped every year.

within the love song genre, his favourite songs are ones that remind him of you.

his listening history is an amalgamation of different musical styles, but what he really pays attention to is the lyrics; if there's a song that really captures the way he feels about you, or one where the singer describes their lover and they're similar to you, he can't help but put it on repeat. he also loves duets - just like with romance movies, he loves imagining its the two of you in that situation. when he's deep in crush territory, he'll even make a playlist of those songs (it's long - can't help that every other song reminds him of you).

when you're finally together, he's more open about his love of love songs. it may take a bit into your relationship, during some late-night conversation about your respective silly behaviours when you were pining over each other, for him to show you the playlist, titled with just your initial and a heart emoji. but even before that, if you happen to play any of the songs he secretly listens to, you might catch him singing along under his breath (lowkey this post every five seconds). you might chalk it up to him picking up the words of songs the girls listen to, but that's because you don't catch the way he looks at you with the lyrics on his lips.

there are other times where he'll slide up behind you in your kitchen, arms around your waist and head propped on your shoulder, the domesticity and the fact you're wearing his tshirt getting to him. he's not much of a singer, but he'll hum one of those songs in that moment (his voice has a lovely smooth n deep timbre, so his humming sounds Heavenly in your ear). he might get a little embarrassed if you recognise the song and start humming along with him, or god forbid singing, but he'll still sway the both of you along to the music. he's not much of a dancer either, but he can figure out a midnight slow dance in the kitchen for you.

bonus!! a few songs i think he'd listen to, tho kinda influenced by my own music taste (+ spotify links): kiss her you fool - kids that fly (he has it on loop when he's psyching himself up to ask you out) meteor shower - cavetown davy crochet - the backseat lovers (perhaps i'm biased on this one bc i crochet) stitch me up - set it off can't help falling in love - elvis presley cloud 9 - beach bunny ("even when we fade eventually to nothing / you will always be my favourite form of loving" really hits with his whole 'dying for love' thing) love grows (where my rosemary goes) - edison lighthouse paper rings - taylor swift jackie and wilson - hozier (there's a lot of hozier in his playlists, but he really likes the thought of a family with you, even if that's only a couple lines of the song) valentine - atlas sweet tooth - cavetown ("guess i must be satisfactory / you said you love me exactly the way i am" takes him Out i can just feel it) would you be so kind - dodie

[stilinskibaby]

early series stiles

PAIRING : s1-2!stiles x reader.

CONTENT : fluff.

is so protective of you, especially after finding out about the supernatural

is constantly checking up on you (have you drank water, are you sleeping well, etc.)

lowkey is always trying to hold hands with you under the guise of ‘i have something to show to you’

starts stuttering at you once he acknowledges his crush on you

starts having nightmares about you dying during the kanima situation

has you and scott over for weekly movie / dinner nights bc he knows it calms your anxiety

LATE NIGHT DRIVING JAMS,, him picking you up just to drive around and listen to music and sometimes he parks at the preserve bc he knows u like the view

helping you with your homework

him asking u for girl advice ( u r the girl )

THE BIGGEST GIFTS FOR UR BIRTHDAY ( you dont even know how u got the money for it )

tl:dr stiles is a cutie patootis sweetiepie

[wooahoe]

isn’t it lonely? i’d do anything to make you want me — xu minghao x reader

number one girl; aka high school is a fucking bitch and i went from an academic weapon to an academic victim mlist

cw: hao is probably ooc, lack of y/n, language, konglish + chinglish (?), author cannot speak mandarin just fyi, they know each others slang in other languages bc they gang like that, use of couple nicknames between friends (or are they? up to you!), angst(?), mentions of school 🤢, lowkey toxic fic, author grew up with the asian grading scale so if you think that a c is not a failing grade you are lucky asf, asian american stereotypes, 12 am thoughts, short asf fic (about 1.5k words)

a/n: FUCK ap testing FUCK college applications FUCK bitchass teachers FUCK gifted kid burnout FUCK being asian FUCK depression FUCK school !! is academic validation even worth it anymore.

extremely self indulgent fic, i’ve been listening to orbit and 54321 lift off and number one girl to cope so have a minghao !! non-aerieverse

this can be read either as platonic or romantic

— ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚

tell me that i'm going real big places, down to earth, so friendly, and even through all the phases, tell me you accept me

your grades can’t be that bad.

try me. i fucking dare you.

“nti. nti. nti, 2/15, 5/10, another zero, overall grade is sixty-two percent. so far we’re six for six on failing grades.”

you turn and face him, arms crossed and a slightly crazed grin on your face. he moved from sitting on the edge of your bed to leaning over your chair to look at your laptop screen. minghao’s expression had been neutral this entire time, but the knitting of his eyebrows told you everything you needed to know.

how the hell did someone like you crash and burn this badly?

well, that’s all i'm dying to hear, yeah, i’m dying to hear you tell me that you need me, tell me that i'm loved

fifteen minutes earlier

minghao looked at you from his seat across the table, one eyebrow raised in confusion.

“what do you mean you’re failing all your classes? you had all As last semester.”

you huffed in frustration, and pursed your lips together, choosing to look down at your setup instead of meeting his eyes.

notes covered in minghao’s pretty but messy scrawl and your lazy cursive. integral equations and war dates and biology concepts strewn across the floor. at least three different textbooks stacked on top of each other, a fourth open at the top. two bags of latiao and tteokbokki flavored almonds left untouched at the edge of the mini folding table. one takeout cup of coffee (the amount of shots you’d asked for had stunned the barista) and one thermos of tea (most likely from the set you’d gifted him due to his most recent obsession) sitting side by side in front of the two of you.

it looked like your weekly study date.

but this particular study session was straying further and further away from any actual studying, and you hated that this was the topic the two of you had landed on.

“yeah. i did. key word is ‘had’, hao, i’m literally failing calculus right now. and not asian failing, F failing.”

he sucked in a breath between his teeth, looking at you sympathetically but unbelievingly.

“tiánxīn, your grades can’t be that bad.”

you raised an eyebrow.

“try me, jagi. i fucking dare you.”

at this, he frowned.

tell me that i’m worth it, and that i’m enough. i need it and i don't know why, this late at night; isn't it lonely? i’d do anything to make you want me

“seventy-five, sixty-four, seventy-seven, seventy-eight, sixty-two.”

you rattled off the percentages like they were lottery numbers.

“and now everyone’s favorite, calc bc! let’s see here…nti. nti. nti, 2/15, 5/10, another zero, overall grade is sixty-two percent. and we are six for six on failing grades.”

you turned from your place in front of the computer and faced him, arms crossed and a slightly crazed grin on your face.

you chuckled, and if it had been anyone but minghao sitting in front of you, they’d think you were amused by this.

but he knew better. he knew you were just hiding behind a smile.

“damn. i’m never getting into college at this point.”

minghao tsked scoldingly.

“don’t say that.”

he let out a sigh and moved from sitting on the edge of your bed to leaning over your chair to look at your laptop screen. his eyebrows knit together, and he looked over at your cheshire cat grin.

“tiánxīn…what happened?”

“i really couldn’t tell you, minghao.”

“tiánxīn.”

your demeanor cracked, just for a split second, before the smirk reappeared on your face.

except that this time, it was accompanied by a lump in your throat and tears behind your eyes.

“i can’t fucking focus, hao.”

his questioning gaze was enough to break through the walls you had worked so hard to build.

“it’s so frustrating. it’s like no matter how much information enters my brain, i can’t get a good enough grasp on it to be able to hang on to it. like everything i’m being taught makes its way from one ear and out the other, so it’s not really there but it left a trail that’s just enough for me to pass the quiz. and it’s not enough to get an A on the final, and it’s barely enough to pass the class.”

you stood up from your desk chair and started to pace in front of the man in front of you.

“but apparently, i’m supposed to compete with everyone else for the best score. i’m supposed to understand it on the first try. i’m supposed to be good at english, and geography, and math and science and a language i’ve been surrounded by all my life but i’ve never actually been taught. and, y’know, apparently i should be able to deal with failure. but this shouldn’t even be happening! i shouldn’t be failing.

“but i am failing.”

minghao wordlessly leads you towards the bed, pulling you in to sit down at his side and wrapping his arms around your shoulders.

“why can’t i understand anything anymore? why can’t i focus? why can’t i pay attention? why can’t i just be nicer? why can’t i stand up for myself? why can’t i stay awake? why can’t i fall asleep? why can’t i just do it? god, it feels like i don’t know anything anymore.”

you turn to look at him with teary eyes.

“why isn’t that a good enough answer? because i don’t know why i can’t understand anything anymore. i don’t know why i can’t focus. i don’t know why i can’t pay attention. i didn’t do my homework because i don’t understand it. i failed my quiz because i didn’t understand the material.

“i failed my test because i’m not as smart as you think i am.

“i can’t just do the bare minimum. i don’t know how. i can’t stay awake because i spend all of my nights and weekends and every waking hour doing homework that never gets done. i can’t fall asleep because i’m too busy crying. and i mean, it’s not like anybody taught me how to ask for help. nobody told me it was okay to fail, because everyone expected the best. so i always gave that. my best. and when my best isn’t enough?

“i guess i’ll be the best at failing, too.”

i'd give it all up if you told me that i'd be the number one girl in your eyes. your one and only, so what's it gon' take for you to want me?

the next few minutes are spent in silence, with your head coming to rest on his shoulder. one of his hands is playing with your hair, the other’s fingers are laced with your own. it’s comforting, and you let out a shaky breath, grounding yourself.

when you finally do look at him, he’s smiling sadly, gazing at your study setup in contemplation.

“tiánxīn…why didn’t you say something?”

you mirrored his smile, and squeezed his hand.

“i thought i could deal with it on my own.”

“you babo.”

you huff out a laugh.

“hey. listen to me. you’re not failing.”

you laugh again, and he flicks your forehead in retaliation.

“i’m serious. these numbers don’t measure your value or status in life. this shouldn’t weigh on you as heavy as it does.”

you look at him, and frown.

“we don’t get to make that decision, haobei.”

“why not?”

“xu minghao.”

“i’m being serious. you’re still going to get into college, even if these end up being your final grades, because you’ve already written an essay that everyone is jealous of, and you’re smart, love.”

“am i really, though?”

minghao rolls his eyes and says your full government name, causing you to kick his ankle lightly in mock hurt.

“but seriously. you know why these stupid grades mean so much to me.”

“i know. that doesn’t make it right, though.”

“i know.”

“do you?”

you sigh, and flop down on your back to look at the glow-in-the-dark stars on your ceiling.

“i hope so.”

i'd give it all up if you told me that i'd be the number one girl in your eyes

minghao laid down and looked over at you, smiling sadly, before looking back at the ceiling and wishing on the biggest star.

you’re already perfect in my eyes, tiánxīn, and i wish you could see it, too.

— ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚

a/n; for everyone who’s reading this or is going through school-induced hell rn… fighting !! we’ll get through this !!

[hash1ras]

i loved geto hcs 😭😭😭 can i get one with gojo and chifuyu AND MITSUYA plsssssss

ahhh ive been rewatching tr so this is perfect ♡ characters have been aged up for this one, i hope u enjoy!!

gojo headcanons here <3

MITSUYA ⋆⭒˚｡⋆

he’s always so calm and level headed, definitely the kind of guy that keeps you grounded

we all know mitsuya is a fashion king

sometimes makes you special clothing pieces bc he knows your style so well<3

late night bike rides around the city!!!

loves to stop and take you to his favorite spot by the water where you sit and talk for hours

always holds your hand when you’re out in public

and opens the door for you (he’s a true gentleman)

has an obsession with anything strawberry flavored

he’s so serious all the time but occasionally catches you off guard with random sarcastic comments

loves obscure indie films

and trashy reality tv shows (it’s his guilty pleasure)

loves to play fight with you

like you guys will be on the couch watching tv and next thing you know he’s tackling you and pinning you to the ground

randomly wraps his arm around your shoulder and kisses your neck

will sometimes bring you to the toman meetings (mostly bc mikey annoys him about it bc he likes you so much lol)

paints his nails black

loves underground rap music (and chase atlantic hehe)

loves wearing rings, he’s kinda obsessed with jewelry (but its so hot)

CHIFUYU⋆⭒˚｡⋆

a literal angel

loves to come over with takeout and wine for lowkey date nights

he’s a huge homebody

bought matching chainlink bracelets for the both of you

loves candles???? he literally has 50 and still continues to buy more anytime he goes shopping smh

he’s secretly obsessed with witchtok and astrology

baji loves to tag along on some of your dates lol

especially when it involves yakisoba and arcades

he’s secretly an incredible cook

loves to make all your favorite meals and find new recipes for both of you to try

he loves indie music, especially arctic monkeys and the neighbourhood

obsessed with pokemon

anytime you leave the house he’s running around town playing pokemon go

like you’ll be at the arcade with him and baji and you just finished a game and turn around only to see chifuyu running across the street, dodging cars, trying to catch more pokemon and baji’s on the ground dying of laughter

love’s self care nights with you

bubble baths and face masks<3

requests are open!#

[isa-ghost]

was reading through your q!phil hc masterpost and was wondering if you could add any of your codebreakers/etoilza headcanons into the fray…? :3

YESSSS I CAN'T BELIEVE IT TOOK THIS LONG TO GET ASKED /LH

qPhil headcanons masterlist

RESTATES for my and your convenience (heads up, there are a few suggestive/mildly explicit mentions!!):

--He's FWB with Etoiles. Extremely QPR, Etoiles is an aro king --He and Phil started out as friends and that has Barely changed if at all, but sparring matches get a little too homoerotic sometimes and neither of them can resist the other when they're popping off extra hard. Things have. Escalated a few times. If yknow what I mean. Of all Phil's harem members polycule partners, he & Etoiles have absolutely ZERO emotional investment in the Spicy(tm) things they do together. It's simply a very intimate way of showing each other their respect & admiration for the other. What they have going on is a "*spanks you* good game, let's hit the showers team" kinda deal. They're the type of mfs to finish in bed then shake hands like "gg." Casual sex is >>>> to these two, but it happens waaay less between them than it did Phil & Fit, Fitza was habitual (pre-Pac). Codebreakers is a once in a while thing --Etoiles has 100% asked Phil who fucks the best out of the polycule bc like everything else, it's a competition & he Must win, he Must have the best dick game. This amuses Phil very much --Phil is attracted to Etoiles the same way he's attracted to Fit, HOWEVER, the reasoning is different. Etoiles has raw skill and talent, but it's the way he wields it and demonstrates it that makes Phil wanna act up. Also Etoiles is fucking hilarious. Who can resist a good sense of humor? Those dramatics make Phil swoon --Etoiles is one of the people who is best at catching Phil's Tells for when something is wrong --Etoiles is one of few people who can convince (or goad) Phil into doing something he normally wouldn't, especially if he's drunk --Speaking of Phil being drunk around Etoiles, the way he can still absolutely body someone or snipe smth from miles away makes Etoiles want to kiss him stupid --Etoiles left a scar on Phil's back during Purgatory when he killed him Day 1. Phil didn't know for the longest time, but it took him a while to show him his wings after that. --Phil was genuinely afraid of Etoiles (& Fit) for a while after Purgatory --Sometimes Phil's laughs and startled yelps sound almost like squawks. Also his hiccups. It's very rare, but whenever it happens, he gets teased for it. Especially by Etoiles. --Phil goes back and forth on gifting one of his shed feathers to Etoiles --Technically all of the Polycule vs Ender King hcs apply to Etoiles in some way --Phil could listen to Etoiles teach him about French culture for hours

And now the new stuff :D

Etoiles's dramatics can get Phil in tears laughing. His sides and stomach will hurt before it's over, and Etoiles can go on for MINUTES. Sometimes he'll keep going purely because it has Phil dying so hard and he loves seeing what a kick Phil gets out of it

Etoiles is (playfully) salty that Phil is such a My Kids Come First kinda guy bc GOD does he want Phil to be down to do dangerous pvp and dungeon busting shit without the "euuu we gotta make sure it's safe" aspect more often. He wants that Angel of Death. Etoiles is the #1 Dadza (Derogatory) islander /lh

See, Fitza is more explicit and deadass about their,, Time together. Codebreakers is more subtle. Yknow that "media literacy is knowing when something that isn't gay sex is gay sex" post? That's Codebreakers. Sparring, dungeon busting, whatever high-risk high-exertion thing they're doing together. That.

It should go without saying how down Etoiles would be to throw hands with Ender King. It would be the most exhilarating fight he's ever had

Phil's still lowkey lost about the whole resistance thing. And schedules lately have not been kind to the two of them, so he hasn't had a chance to talk about it with Etoiles as extensively about it as he'd like to

Btw he's secretly concerned as hell smth bad is gonna happen to Etoiles if more of his body becomes corrupted by code :)

They 100% refer back to the time Etoiles said this regularly, and similar things like it. The same can be said for Fitza but my god the extent to which these two are more than willing to kill for each other. OUGH.

Phil does not realize how much pent up stress and emotion he can vent out via sparring or hitting something really fucking hard. Etoiles is going to fix that one day.

Phil's Etoiles impression has made Etoiles attempt to learn how to mimic Phil in retaliation but he cannot for the life of him get the hang of Phil's fuckass accent. Geordies stay winning to this man's dismay

Etoiles is frustratingly yet fascinatingly hard for Phil to clock sometimes. It's difficult to gauge exactly how he's feeling or what he's thinking. And yet as inconvenient that can be sometimes, something about it is incredibly attractive to Phil at the same time. Which is funny because unpredictability is usually not something his survivalist brain would like. Something about how he trusts Etoiles and therefore his being a wildcard is not so scary,,

Etoiles 🤝🏻 Chayanne - Wanting Phil to take them on a flight

I don't know if I'd call Etoiles an anarchist the same way I would Phil, but either way he is SO DOWN to fuck with the Feds if it entails any kind of pvp or the need to be geared up

Ok listen I have to call back to the gay sex subtext thing. Things that are more sex than gay sex to Codebreakers: Sparring, adrenaline, battles of wit, flexing powerful gear, thinking too much about what an absolute potential killing machine the other is, watching one another be in The Zone during a fight

Phil has more physical strength than skill with weapons and Etoiles has more skill with weapons than physical strength. Ok now imagine that while they're in a 2v# fight

I would not put it past Etoiles to pull a Missa and say smth wildly out of pocket and suggestive so fast in French that Phil doesn't catch it.

[hyunjins-orange-slice-too]

Hii ~ it's a little late but I'm here! :3

We're starting well today with Channie laughing! ♡

WOOD 😎

Blonde Chan! He lowkey looks like a vampire here tbh

Soft cutie from up close!

He's such a flirt (I will do anything he says if he looks at me like that)

It's crazy how every detail of his face is just perfect. He is beautiful

I hope that's not the big hug I gave you yesterday! I forgot to check beforehand but if I sent it yesterday please tell me, you'll get another one <3

Hope you had a good day! 🩵

i’m afraid i don’t have much brain power today. i’m so sick i feel like im dying. can’t sleep bc im shivering uncontrollably. but chan pics make me smile. i love him so much.

lmao the ‘wood😎’ took me a second to understand lol

🩷🫂

[loquarocoeur]

Hey Alex another late night thought from me.

What do you think about Max and Charles potentially being parents one day. Ofcourse we know that they are pet parents but could you see them as having their own demonspawns later down the line.

Also side note I bet Charles goes absolutely feral whenever he and Max meet up with Victoria and Max's niece and nephews because of how similar to Max they look.

And I don't think Max feels any differently when he and Charles babysit his God-daughter Chiara. Max defo went almost rabid when that one pic of Charles on the boat with the baby was posted. If you know you know 😏.

All in all it would be so great to read your interpretation of lestappen being parents.

They would be such girl dads, Max is lowkey giving the vibes already with Penelope (Yes, I know and agree he's not her dad of course), I think if Charles wanted his 3 kids that he talked about they'd have two girls and one boy.

I feel like they'd also fail so hard to be like good cop bad cop bcs they'd both always just spoil them rotten and never put their foot down

The way they both interact with kids is absolutely adorable though, I think they both get baby fever whenever they're seeing each other interacting with kids and yes Max's nephews are carbon copies of him they're so cute🥺 Charles would probably be a puddle on the floor seeing them with Max every tine

I think when Max sees Charles with a kid he's always keeping a straight face but dying inside because it's too cute

I don't think I'm much of a kid fic person though, so I don't think I'll write abt it, but yeah idk I do see it

[johnathancactus]

just putting this here bc im feeling a bit frustrated with myself right now & talking at nobody helps

cw: not eating enough, & thusly not feeling great; general health; body health; venting

i always feel bad about being so concerned about my health when everybody says im healthy bc i know im not--for context: i probably have arfid & have big issues w food texture to the point where i struggle to eat much of any meat/protein & other vitamins

in the past (before i started taking vitamins & iron supplements) i used to always be dead tired. i knew i wasnt depressed but it was more just that i could barely make my body do anything?? it even got so bad once that i couldnt move my arms for like 3 minutes (which was fucking terrifying bc it came out of nowhere). i used to feel like i was hollow--like there was nothing behind my face but skin & bones. i used to feel sick looking at my body bc i felt like i looked more like a skeleton than a person. i lowkey felt like my body was corroding & eating itself--i wasnt dying but it felt like it

so i was like "oh shit" & started taking vitamins & iron (even though my doctor said my blood work was fine??), and stopped feeling quite as much like death, yay! but even still im usually exhausted & feel like shit... like i still struggle to eat enough and its just frustrating bc i dont want to talk to people about it a ton? i have a bad habit of obessng over my health (prob bc i dont usually feel awesome) & i get by enough to where i seem fine? sometimes im not even sure if im just making this bigger in my head (granted, while im typing this my hands are shaking bc i havent been getting enough to eat lmao) but most people think im making it a big deal? idrk man... like i know i get anxious, & my doctor keeps telling me that im fine, but i still usually feel like shit (not like im dying any more, though! win!)... like people tell me i need to stop worrying about my health but like idfk.... its hard to not worry when i feel like im in the lowest possible bit of qualifying as "normally healthy".... ugh

like i qualify as "fine", but if i eat a meal too late my abdomen becomes concave?? like i know this is a Thing, but it happens to me pretty regularly which makes me tweak tf out because like??? is that realy normal????

its also hard because as a woman, people always go "omg ur so skinny!!! ur so pretty <3 <3 i wish i had ur body!!!" (i'm 5'8" & 104 lbs) because i feel so guilty for wanting to gain weight? i should want this right? like so may people want to be like me--even though i feel sick & dead all the time... like you shouldnt want this--or should i not want to change? sometimes i wonder if i should give up bc it took me 2 years to gain 10lbs...

maybe i just should talk to my therapist about it sometime instead of my ocd idfk... i just want to feel Healthy again.. i feel like its been years since ive felt energized and alive... since i havent felt like i could die if i ended up missing a meal... since i havent been able to see my hip bones stick out like im dying (looking at them makes me feel sick to my stomach)... since i havent felt as if my own body was eating itself... ugh

[pursued-by-the-squid]

yeah sorry that sound you can hear is me SCREAMING!!!

gun scene gun scene gun scene gun sc-

“he’s gotten much better at it” SHES TRAINING HIM TO TEXT HER BACK AND BE A BETTER BOYFRIEND OLDER MALE FRIEND WHO GIVES YOU MONEY IN EXCHANGE FOR COMPANY (did they invent a word for that 🤔)

2 BILLION WON ???? sir please stand up

inho letting her cry on him ‘haha i’m so strong and merciless this was all part of my secret evil masterplan’ HES DOWN BAD PLEASE YOUR HONOUR HE JUST DOESNT KNOW IT YET

“seong gihun has won the races before” horse metaphor strikes again i’m eating it up ☝️ seong gihun as both the better and the horse 😩 he’s a gambler and a pawn 🫦 he won the games and lost everything else

inho’s so bitter about the police i love it (poor junho though my lil dora the explorer can never catch a break)

two hugs in one day ?? girl is winning (she is going to suffer so badly)

i’m sorry i’m so obsessed with inho comforting her every time he is lowkey the cause of her distress it’s so awful and evil and funny

and yeah i’m crying thinking about gihun giving her jungbae and junho’s mother’s info like i’m actually devastated

🎶it’s too late to try and save her from being associated with you now gihun she will not go on to do great things without you she is already irreversibly intertwined with your life and your choices you have doomed her to following you into hell just by trying to help her🎶

🩷💕✨🎀💖💞💗✨💘💓THE KISS🎀💞💖💕💗✨🩷💘💓

junho my useless princess ily

oh maaaan the guilt is gonna eat gihun alive when he sees her in the games 😍🤌 is he gonna be mad at her for not listening to him and following him into the games just for her to be like 🔄 i didn’t even choose to be here AND i didn’t leave my house AND the games found me not the other way around AND i’m mad at you for kissing me and then leaving me to be attacked

2x guilt for gihun because he wasn’t there to protect her

IF YOU COUDKNT TELL I AM IN LOVE WITH THIS CHAPTER ITS SO FUCKITN GOOD DJAHSKDKAGSJJDSH

🏆🏆🏆

me carefully crafting this chapter knowing damn well that it's gonna make u lose ur mind:

oh man the gun scene 😏 yeah that one was fun. like trying to determine how many lingering touches gi-hun felt he could get away with + how many lies about their homework does the reader plan to get away with JUST TO SPEND TIME WITH HIM?? they're so stupid together and i love them

fucking instigator in-ho, i cannot with this man. "yeah i'm so cruel and awful, and it doesn't stir up my soft secret feelings at all when you cry into my chest and trust me to take care of you, not at all and fuck you for thinking that, actually i'm gonna send you on a suicide mission because your mere existence threatens every wall i've put up around my heart" 😍 i love him so much

RAAAHHHHHHHHHH OKAY LOOK I AM SO OBSESSED WITH THAT TALK IN-HO & GI-HUN HAD AT THE END OF THE GAMES LAST TIME, THE HORSE RACING METAPHOR WHEN GI-HUN ONLY CAME TO THE GAMES BC OF HORSE RACES, GOT OUT INTO HIS OWN HORSE RACE, NOW HE'S THE PRIZED GELDING ????? IT'S SUCH A RICH LITTLE NUGGET THAT I JUST WNAT TO CHEW ON, THANK YOU FOR APPRECIATING IT

the kiss !!!!!!!!! my stupid desperate suicidal old man !!!!!! (not to toot my own horn here or anything, but that last paragraph in gi-hun's pov where he thinks about dying while remembering the kiss?? actually my favorite chunk of writing i've ever done in my entire life) also do not think about how in-ho watched that from his tablet and felt an insane surge of irritation (aka jealousy) seeing them kiss

ohhhhohohohohohohohoho man i have been chomping at the bit waiting for the games to finally start and i'm so glad we're finally here 😏 you might be onto something there, but 🤭 i guess we'll have to wait and see!!

[deduction-substitute]

im making an idv oc that has an identity switch.. the concept for the hunter came super easy but trying to figure out the survivors abilities is Killing me (i want them to be a decoder) ((its so hard to make an interesting decoder because decoding in general is pretty boring AUGHURHS)) pls save me im dying.

this rant comes bc i saw your oc posts and i want to know everything abt them Please

HI HELLO sorry this is super late...if you already have it figured out dont mind me..heh. BUTTTTT IM ALWAYS FREE TO DM OR WHATEVA...

I LOVE LOVE LOVE thinking of skills and abilities and and everything for idv ocs because of how. Hard it is to do. Like bro i havent even finished my own oc's IVE ONLY DOEN DEBUFFS FOR LETHA

But when it comes to decoder ocs, I think one thing that could help is to observe the decoders we already have and kind of like. Separate the abilities by how it assists their decoding, DOESNT assist their decoding, or skills that are completely unrelated to decoding.

A good example of this I'd say is Luca Balsa and Freddy Riley IM NOT BIASED TOWARDS THE LAWYER WHAT.

Luca's abilities tie into his decoding, even his stupid stun because of the electrical area (that only appears when he conencts two ciphers and starts decoding one of them) that slowly recharges it. ALSO note that Luca's whole electricity skill comes from his background too, so you could also think of something from your oc's background that can help you make up an ability!

Freddy on the other hand has skills that dont necessarily have to be tied into his decoding!! Like how vaulting different windows and running around the map increases his speed for those certain actions, then decoding gradually increases his decoding speed too. None of those skills assist his teammates if ykwim.

Compare it to Luca, who can transmit decoding progress to your cipher, or use his stun to help kites or balloon rescue (even if the stun's for a short while).

After that, decide if you want your decoder to just simply be a decoder or a hybrid! Decoder-Assist and all that. I do believe that a Decoder-Rescue is not a possible hybrid because their weaknesses contradict each other. There's no Decoder-Contain, and while I also believe its not a possible hybrid, its more reasonable. Things like Freddy's increasing movement/vaulting speed or Composer's tuning fork are abilities that lowkey fall under the contain category as it has nothing to do with decoding

But really, it also depends on what kind of character you have!! There are certain traits that are similar in everything but name, example being Antiquarian and Acrobat's traits that reduce their gate-opening speed, named "Old Wounds" and "Half-hearted" respectively because of their personality/background.

YEAH UHHH TLDR: Hybrid or plain decoder survivor? Will their personality/background also affect their abilities/traits? Organize their traits on how they assist/have nothing to do with their decoding.

SORRYYY this post is too long to talk about my oc now...send another ask if u want heh...BUT LIKE. ANYONE WHO WANTS TO TALK ABOUT THEIR IDV OC ABILITIES OR WHATEVA JUST NEEDING ASSISTANCE...HMU...

[yoonyeon0]

⚠ WARNING ⚠ DANGEROUS RANT, MENTIONS OF Y***GAHAMA, TYPOS, TYPOS, TYPOS, ABSOLUTELY NONSENSE AND PURE PRIMAL LOVE. (never said that phrase in my whole life)

Read with cation.

YESSS GODDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD!

#mymanmyman #hottie #pegginghiminthebackofthebus #waithemight lowkbeabottom 😍 #ilohmatokita

two of my FAVORITE men in the same damn panel at the end of the year. 2025 will be good.

lowkey I love seeing kengan men beat up

NOT A MASOCHISTIC KINK BTW

they just literally look sm hotter on the brink of death

like look at fei wangfang.

he was dying but he still served cunt somehow???

now all I need is a shen with hair down while wet appearance and IT WILL BE DONE!

still haven't recovered from the last shen with hair down. he is so baby girl but NOBODY understands

anyway I'm kinda excited to see where this jun vs ohma rematch is gonna go

ngl if ohms wins I won't be surprised bc...plot and shit but if Jun wins I'll be baffled

highly unlikely though.

IM GLAD THAT MOTHAFUCKER BITCH GOT HIS SHIT ROCKED

he actually looks like a cockroach I'm repulsed.

ANYWAY

awwhwh he's so cutest and so kawaii

I could eat him. He looks edible. I love shen wulong. Yes. #hottieofthecentury

this rant is one of everything because I have been missing A LOT

but dw.

I'm back for good.

anyway i am NOT prepared for 2025 but I mean you gotta do what you gotta do

I have been watching squid game and I wonder how the kengan cast would do in the squid game.

other than fucking kill everyone there with their bare hands ofc bcs well.

I feel like shen would play along just for the shits and giggles which is #real

but other than that I think it's bold of me to assume that any of those kengan players are going down without a fight

bro if that's for kengan...imagine baki.

bro nah that's absolutely insane and scary to think abt.

literally I would just quit. like give up. no point.

like imagine fucking DOPPO literally looking at you with murder on his mind bcs well...you killed people with their consent (kinda??)

I'd cry.

like hello.

don't even get me STARTED on hanayama

I don't have beef with him it's just he's is so scary to me.

Literally I would fold under his gaze both because I'm scared and I am romantically sparked.

Well.

Anyway I have A LOT to rant abt baki because that show is so funny but at the same time low-key kinda deep (maybe I'm too brainrotted) but I'll leave that for another time.

this rant was high-key shorter than the others lol but catch yall later because it's way too damn late for me to be doing this shit 😭😭😅

[weekendcuckdate]

You met Seth??? TWICE in one month??

YEAH lmfao i saw him do standup with john oliver on 10/20 of last month and met him afterwards (some of the pictures seen below) and i had a very nice talk with him! i got to tell him my boyfriend and i met bc we were both jackals and then almost in comedic timing we both corrected him on past errors he had made on corrections before i gave him some bracelets i made for him. oliver came out about 30 minutes after the show was over and we waited outside for seth for almost an hour and a half. my friends and i literally started socializing with his car driver waiting for him to come out. he's very much a diva.

on 10/28 my boyfriend and i ended up going to a late night taping (brooks wheelan and molly shannon were our guests) and we both got to ask him questions during q&a (in which he definitely recognized us, as my boyfriend and i have very unnaturally colored dyed hair, and he lowkey had a look of "I know you two" in his eyes)

my boyfriend asked about frisbee (in which seth said she was doing good despite her old age, said she sleeps most of the time, and then compared her to a spider when it comes to her leaving her doggy bed), and i asked about the 2004 film See This Movie, where he cut me off mid question to take credit for the movie, said he remembered filming it, said the name was unfortunate because looking it up just leads to other movies in the search results, and then said it was Not a good movie, in fact if i remember he called it "Terrible" (which is true, but funny he is self aware). seth was also fidgeting around a lot during my interaction with him during this.

if you watch that episodes a closer look, you can hear me as the only one going crazy and cheering over the jizz in my pants clip and then the mention of the tlism podcast.

[itsjaywalkers]

Ok I’m curious af so rank your jegulus’s from most kinky to least kinky. If you would like to include examples they are more than welcome but not necessary.

Thank you for your time,

Kink Nonnie

THIS ONE IS SOOOO FUN i'm always down to talk about kink especially if it's related to jeggy <333 and since most of my wips haven't been posted yet i don't wanna give too many examples bc . spoilers . but i can share a few things ofc!! here we go <3

boxer au jeggy. god they're always at the top this is starting to get emabrrassing but it's true !! it's my filthiest james without a doubt and reg is also quite the menace in this one. we're talking exhibitionism vouyeurism edging overstimulation dom/sub dynamics spanking slapping etc etc. james gets aggressive and possessive and reg turns into putty in his hands BUT they also switch and reg absolutely fucks the cockiness out of james until he's a crying writhing mess. but yeah they have no shame and they'd try everything under the sun. also if one of my jeggys had a pissing kink, it'd be them 100%

feeling good jeggy. new entrance!! the 2nd place used to belong to oby BUT i've been . outlining a bit more of this fic and had a few realisations. we're talking corruption kink virginity kink spit kink a bit of exhibitionism and possibly some cnc too!! this james may not be as filthy (sexually wise) as boxer au james buuuuuut he's meaner and a shittier person and he's only here to seduce regulus and steal all his money (at first) so he pulls all the stops <3 they're quite wild and this reg begins as my most "innocent" inexperienced one and ends up becoming . well . something else entirely

oby jeggy. my beloveds <3 we already know most of their kinks by heart, and even though all of my james have some level of oral fixation, oby james wins!! he can come just by eating reg out and he's happy whenever he gets him to sit on his face. they almost never do it in a bed like normal people, or even in either of their flats. the riskier the place, the better, and they're gonna end up traumatising someone at this rate. also <3 kings of the daddy kink <3 i think fucked up road trip jeggy have it too, and probably also boxer au jeggy but they're the blueprint!! especially bc it wasn't even planned in the first place

nothing happens jeggy. they used to be a bit lower but i've realised a few things about them too lately.. their dirty talking goes HARD because nh james needs urgent psychological help (reg too tbh) and he gets very cruel and degrading sometimes. they also have a severe breeding kink and . kinda a cheating kink like . it doesn't start that way but at a certain point i think they find it very hot, the fact that the other is always gonna cheat for them!! or at least reg does, bc we all know james takes a while to realise what he's been doing it's actual cheating. there's also a scene in which james forces reg to call his bf at the time while he's fucking him................... Yeah

fucked up road trip fic jeggy. they're quite kinky but since they're in a life or death situation and surrounded by quite a few ppl and getting some time alone is very difficult . they can never get as kinky as they could in different circumstances yk? they do have a daddy kink and there's quite the age gap!! also the fact that james is married and his son is only like . 5 years younger than reg . which is definitely Something . also the desperation whenever they fuck is at a whole other level bc they come close to dying a few times (and they might actually die at the end of the story.......... i'm still debating it tbh). and also they make out/have actual sex in very vulnerable moments or after someone else has been killed or tortured which is lowkey questionable so

making ghosts jeggy. again at the end </3 my poor babies they deserve better.. nah but seriously this place is mostly due to the fact that it’s my softest story and not as explicit or sex heavy as some of my other stories!! this is my most submissive james without a doubt tho and there’s a lot of begging and teasing and trying to keep quiet when they fuck behind closed door bc they keep their relationship secret for . a While . there’s this scene of sirius talking to james through his bedroom door and very confused bc james won’t let him in while reg is sucking james off on the other side.. so yeah very kinky still <3

[agoist]

P:EG Predictions. Will have spoilers

Written after Chapter One and before Chapter Two!

Ok so. List for mee (i wont change this omce i finish it, so all notes will either be terribly ironic or very smart predictions!)

- Damon Maitsu, Ultimate Debater, snake guy

(protag; if he dies im fighting someone)

- Diana Venicia, Ultimate Cosmetologist, chameleon girl

(doubt she’ll live; either ch3 or ch6 death)

- Jean Delamer, Ultimate Ship Captain, dragon guy

(i doubt he’d be a blackened or victim, so i predict survivor)

- Jett Dawson, Ultimate Drag Racer, coyote guy?

(lowkey forgot his animal. Uh. Help i thought it was a cat 😭) (definitely a victim at some point or a survivor, could not be a blackened)

- Toshiko Kayura, Ultimate Matchmaker, flamingo girl

(WHY DID I THINK IT WAS A SWAN. anyway victim for sure) (changed my mind survivor bc killing a child is mean)

- Mark “Mayhem” Berskii, Ultimate Music Producer, alligator guy

(Ooof this one is hard. Victim and blackened can both be argued for but predict he Will Die. At some point.)

- Ulysses Wilhelm, Ultimate Historian, owl guy

(Why is everyone jumping on the ch2 victim theory?? Lol he didnt do much during the trial idk why hed be a target- ppl either think that or that hes the mastermind?? 😭 but we’re (me. No one is reading this) here for ME and my theories so im gonna be quirky and say… victim. But NOT CH2! Not a blackened tho; i think he’s gonna be a double kill victim)

- Wolfgang Akire, Ultimate Lawyer, sheep guy

(Lmao. Lol. Rip actually i liked him)

- Cassidy Amber, Ultimate Pro Gamer, spider girl

(Im inclined to say survivor but i dont wanna be biased. But also im saying victim for too many ppl. I also wouldnt be Shocked if she was the blackened.)

(Oh well ill figure it out once i start the actual predictions which have very little to no actual evidence or founding)

- Desmond Hall, Ultimate Marksman, shark guy

(C’mon. This guy is a blackened. Wolfgang was a wolf in sheeps clothing but he still became a victim. These motifs mean smth and this guy is gonna kill sorry, i do actually like him /srs and hes a very nice guy. Im thibking late game blackened OR self-defense blackened, either way out of desperation)

- Eloise Taulner, Ultimate Fencer, swan girl

(SHES THE SWAN. Anyway definitely a blackened. Sorry no evidence for this one)

- Kai Monteago, Ultimate Influencer, butterfly guy

(So yk how every dr game has a survivor that ur left wondering how they lived. Ik the developers said they wanted to stray from the dr tropes. But lets assume they keep that one. This guy is surviving) (this is copium)

- Grace Madison, Ultimate Golfer, rabbit girl

(Victim. Shes dying. I cant believe shell be the kind to go, “ill live for wolfgang!” Or whatever. Nope shes gone) (also rabbits are prey animals anyway)

- Ingrid Grimwall, Ultimate Blacksmith, lion girl

(Actually? Blackened. Shes the nicest woman alive (still weird to me shes 18 and not older) but i cant see her as a victim or surviving. I think itd be a motive thing, or rven an accident)

- Wenona NoLastName, Ultimate Entrepreneur, bear girl

(Im thinking survivor here. Definitely no victim, and a blackened seems to be something too… out-of-character.)

- Eva Tsunama, Ultimate Liar/Mathelete (im giving her both girlie’s earned it), raven girl

(I MISS HERRRR EVAAAAAAAA)

Ch2:

- Grace Victim. She is either dying now or surviving all the way, I can’t see it any other way.

- Eloise Blackened. She’s… she’s too nice. It’s suspicious, and not in a Diana-suspicious way.

Ch3:

-Ulysses Victim. He’s definitely going to die I just don’t know for sure when.

- Jett Victim. No idea why but this speaks to me.

- Desmond Blackened. I don’t know??? Who else could it be man.

Ch4:

- Diana Victim. I don’t think she’s gonna live, it just seems unlikely with her whole speech. She could die at any chapter, I’m just going with four bc why not.

- Mark Blackened. I don’t think he’s gonna live either sorry. He just seems like the one that’d get angriest at Diana after her whole spiel (besides Damon).

Ch5:

- Jean Victim. He could 100% survive though, I’m just out of theories.

- Ingrid Blackened. It has to be an accident, kinda like Chiaki, theres no way its anything else, and her as a survivor just. Seems wrong to me?

Ch6:

- I have no idea, and can’t really predict much beyond who I don’t think will survive. We don’t even know if suicides or double kills are in play, but we’ll see.

- Out of my list of survivors, I would predict Cassidy and Wenona?? I guess??? Again who knows what the final death count will be.

Survivors: Damon, Kai, Wenona (?), Cassidy (?), Toshiko