#like I was 12 and I know that and I know I need to give myself grace for that

[honey-on-your-tongue]

Corruption kink with boyfriend Simon Riley, part 7 (nsfw)

Part 6 here

Making out with Ghost on the couch, your pretty hand rubbing his hard cock through his pants while he’s knuckles-deep in your pussy. He pulls away slightly and murmurs against your lips, “God, I just wanna fuck that mouth of yours, pretty girl.”

You freeze, hand ceasing its movements, eyes wide. “What?”

“I want your lips on my cock, baby,” he replies, gently tracing your jaw with his fingers. “What I did with you, you can do to me, too. You can use your mouth on me.”

You blush, obviously reluctant. Simon won’t push you, but the thought of it is making his head spin.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to, baby, just thought it would be nice, is all,” he assures.

“No, I…I wanna do it,” you say. “I just don’t know how.”

“It’s just like sucking a lollipop,” he tells you. “C’mon, I’ll teach you. Kneel in front of me?”

You get onto your knees between his spread legs as he sits on the couch, your pretty eyes filled with nerves. He pushes his pants off, his cock springing free.

He runs his knuckles over your cheek before his hand moves to the back of your head, fingers tangling in the hair there. He pulls you closer, guiding your lips to your cock. “You can go ahead and lick it, baby.”

Tentatively, you give the tip a kitten lick and Simon hisses, cursing under his breath. Encouraged by his positive reaction, you lick him again.

“That’s it, baby. Just do what you’re comfortable doing,” he groans, watching you lick around the bulbous head.

Your tongue moves a little lower, tracing the veins on his underside, and Simon grunts, cock twitching. He lets you lick him for a while longer before he pulls your head up.

“Open wide for me, baby,” he instructs. You part those pretty lips of yours and Simon slowly pushes his cock into your mouth. Your innocent eyes widen, breathing hitching at the stretch. “You’re okay, you’re okay,” he assures you, caressing the back of your head. “It’s okay. Breathe through your nose, baby.”

When he sees you’ve calmed down some, he pushes your head to take more of him. “That’s it, girl, like that. Deep breaths. Tap my thigh if you need me to stop, yeah?”

You hum in response, eyes fluttering shut.

“Deep breath, gonna push you all the way down, ‘kay?” His hand guides your head down, making your pretty mouth take the entirety of his huge cock until he’s hitting the back of your throat and you gag. “I know, a little more.” He stops when your nose grazes the skin of his lower abdomen, and you look up at him, eyes glossy, eyelashes wet with tears. He almost comes at the sight.

“Now suck, baby,” he says. You obey like the good girl you are, and he inhales sharply through his teeth. “Fuck.”

He lets you get used to the sensation of having him in your mouth while you suck before he says, “Now move your head up and down, girl. We’ll take it at your pace.”

Needless to say, Simon doesn’t last long. Watching your lips around his cock, the way you look up at him with tears spilling from your pretty eyes pushes him over the edge quick. He comes down your throat, grunting and moaning, trying his hardest to keep himself from thrusting into your throat.

“Fuck, baby, c’mere.” He pulls you back up to him, pulling you onto his lap. He uses his thumb to wipe the corner of your mouth, where your saliva and some of his come has gathered, before pushing his thumb into your mouth. “You did so well for me. Now how about you lie on the couch, hm? Lemme return the favor, been dying to eat your pussy all day.”

---

Taglist

@booboobear-12 @lilychristine01 @smzyyx @mxsatorisimp @akkahelenaa @crypticlxrsh @m-0-ssy-m-3-ss @actualpoppy @dawnnightshade666 @dethspllz @massivecandycrusade @mentally-unstable-hottie13 @shushyoudontknowme @readinggeeklmao @despairingrat @h0lydrag0ns @poseidonsbichild @sillylittlereader @vanillarosekiss @jangles-the-clown @lem-hhn @doubledizzy22 @http-bell @readingthingy @velvetdimond @thegaywitchofwhimsy @weaniebeaniebaby @havoc973 @lucienofthelakes @keiminds @8pmismybedtime @i-wanabe-yours @happysmappy @jp600fox @moonbluff @hobiebrownenthusiast @dragons-flare @canyonmooncreations @foxintheferns @dreamland08 @fertilise-me @dravenskye @hobiebrownenthusiast @liidiaaag @viviansvault3 @alwayzmsbehavn @nicolebarnes @tysukier @icouldntthinkofanythingclever  @cd-mr 

*if you wanna be added to my Ghost taglist, lmk 💛

---

Blog masterlist

[onlyforsebastianstan]

Too Late

Summary: A mistake led the team to ignore you, making you feel invisible. And Bucky as your last hope, your last foundation to keep going, never opened the door.

📎Genre: Angst | Tragedy | Hurt/No Comfort

⚠️ Warnings: → Suicidal ideation → Blood → Character death → Self-inflicted injury (non-explicit) → Emotional neglect → Guilt → Isolation → Mentions of trauma → Depressive thoughts

! ! ! ! Please approach with caution if you are sensitive to themes of mental health crisis, emotional abuse via neglect, or depictions of suicide. This story is written with care and emotional depth but may be distressing for some readers.

If you or someone you know is struggling with thoughts of self-harm or suicide, please reach out to a mental health professional or contact a support line in your country. You are not alone. 💛💛💛

You didn’t mean to ruin the mission.

You didn’t mean to lose control.

You didn’t mean to kill him.

But you did.

And even if it was an accident—an unintended blast of your energy, fractured by panic and fear—it didn’t matter. The target was gone. And so was one of your own.

Clint.

You remember the way his body fell. The look in his eyes when your power struck him. You remember his last breath, the way he whispered something like, “Tell them it’s not your fault,” but it didn’t matter.

Because when you came back to the compound… no one looked at you.

Not Natasha, not Wanda. Steve’s silence was steel, Bruce couldn’t meet your eyes, and Sam turned away whenever you entered a room. They didn’t say you killed him—they didn’t have to.

Their silence screamed it.

You tried. You tried so hard to explain, to apologize. You stood in the common room, your hands shaking, begging them.

“Please… please just listen—”

Nothing.

They wouldn’t even look at you.

You tried. God, you tried.

You cleaned the kitchen even when you didn’t make the mess. You refilled the coffee machine before Steve's morning routine. You asked Wanda if she wanted help with spellwork. You even laughed at one of Tony’s dumb jokes just to show him you could.

But no one forgave you.

And worst of all — you couldn't forgive yourself.

It was 1:47 AM. The corridor smelled faintly of eucalyptus from the ventilation system. Bucky’s door was dark. But you stood outside it anyway, fingers trembling, forehead resting against the cool wood.

“Please,” you whispered. “I know you hear me.”

Nothing.

“I need— I just need someone to tell me it’s okay to breathe.” Your voice broke. “I need to stop feeling like I’m already dead.”

Silence.

You tried again. Soft knock. A plea this time:

“I’m sorry.”

You waited another long minute. Your knees buckled, back sliding down the wall until you were sitting beside his door like a broken doll.

And then—

“I love you,” you said quietly, barely audible.

You stayed for a few more minutes. Just to give yourself time to believe he might open it. That he might hold you or scream at you or something. But when nothing came…

You got up. And walked away.

"Alert: Medical emergency detected in East Wing — Room 23-Bathroom. Vital signs dropping rapidly."

FRIDAY’s voice rang through the compound at 2:12 a.m.

But no one moved. Not at first.

Because that was your room. And no one cared what happened in your room anymore.

Until she spoke again — louder, more urgent.

"Agent is non-responsive. Severe blood loss. Immediate assistance required."

That's when the panic set in.

Steve bolted from his quarters, shield in hand.

Natasha and Bruce ran from opposite ends of the hall.

Wanda froze mid-step, her eyes glowing in fear.

And Bucky — Bucky ran like his world was ending again.

Because maybe it was.

They burst into your bathroom.

You were already half-gone.

Your body was submerged in red-tinted water, your veins glowing faintly as your supernatural form began to unravel. Your eyes fluttered open—not from surprise. From sadness.

You didn’t scream.

You just whispered.

“Why are you here?…You’re not supposed to see this.”

Bucky dropped to his knees beside the tub. “No—no, no, no, what did you do—!”

You looked at him like he was a memory. “I need you all to leave, You shouldn’t be here now.”

“No, no, please… I’m sorry…” 

“It’s okay,” you breathed. “No one blames you.”

Your voice was hollow, distant, like wind through a dying tree.

“But I do.”

And then you closed your eyes.

You didn’t vanish in a burst.

You dissolved slowly—like a soul slipping out of time. The bathwater turned clear. Your body turned pale and light. Like mist. Until there was nothing left but silence.

Not even your heartbeat remained.

The next morning, they found a note. Folded neatly on your pillow.

"To whoever sees this: I understand now. I was a danger. A mistake. I never belonged here. I tried to fix it. I tried to make it right.

But silence speaks louder than hate. And yours has been screaming.

I forgive you. But I can’t forgive myself.

Please don’t come looking for me. I’ve already left."

—Y/N

See my other stories here >>> Masterlist <<<

[cosmerelists]

Stormlight Characters Being Offered a Hug...From Hoid

Characters offered a hug requested by anon. :)

[Includes WAT spoilers in 2 entries--entries with spoilers are marked!]

Partway through writing this list, I realized that this anon specifically requested Stormlight characters, not characters in general. Whoops! I had already written 3 non-Stormlight scenarios. so I'll just leave 'em as a bonus and make the rest Stormlight. (This is also why I made it about Hoid, as I thought it had to be someone who could Hug across the Cosmere. But anyway, I'm just going with it.)

So if Hoid was offering hugs to (checks notes) Stormlight characters, how might they react?

1. Nightblood

Nightblood: Oms, oms, it's happening! Szeth: ...Oms? Nightblood: (Oh my Stormfather--Lift taught me that) Nightblood: I don't have arms, though! Nightblood: Szeth! You have to be my arms! Szeth: ...Can't this man simply hug you? Nightblood: IT HAS TO BE MUTUAL, SZETH

2. Kaladin [WAT Spoilers]

Kaladin (suspiciously): Is this some sort of necessary skill that I need, like when you told me to learn the flute? Hoid: It is a hug. Kaladin: But, like, a hug necessary to save the world, or...? Hoid: A hug because you look like you could use a hug. Kaladin: Well okay... [Kaladin & Hoid hug!] Kaladin: ... Kaladin: That was kind of...nice? Hoid: You are so welcome.

3. Dalinar

Dalinar: I must refuse. Dalinar: I only hug my wife. Hoid: But...Connection? Dalinar: I can offer a firm handshake. Perhaps a fist bump. Hoid: You are SO Alethi sometimes.

4. Navani

Navani: I must refuse. Navani: I only hug my husband and my toxic yuri science partner. Hoid: You and Dalinar sure are cut from the same-- Hoid: Wait, what was that last part?

5. Lopen

Lopen: Do you know, when I lost my arm, my mother said to me, "Lopen, it is because your hugs are too powerful, and the powers above feared you and had to take away at least one arm so that your hugs would be those of a mortal." Lopen: But now both my arms are back! So the mighty hugs can live again! Lopen: But are you sure you are up for a Lopen hug? Hoid: I'm immortal. I think I can risk it. Lopen: Very brave of you indeed!

6. Lift

Lift: Bear hug! Arms AND legs! Lift: Wow! You're so skinny! Lift: I could almost believe you're trustworthy! Lift: Almost. Hoid: ...Thank you?

7. Dieno

Dieno: Oh please. I've been escaping from hugs since before I could walk! Dieno: At least give me a challenge! Hoid: I was mostly just trying to give you a hug. Dieno: With just your arms??

8. Jasnah

Jasnah: [idly, not looking up] Oh, no thanks. I had a hug last month. Hoid: [The saddest, wettest eyes] Jasnah: What?

9. Shallan & Adolin [very mild WAT spoiler]

Shallan: Of course! I'll always hug the man who saved my childhood! Shallan: [hugs Hoid] Adolin: And to be honest...I'm just up for hugs generally. Adolin: [hugs Hoid...but for longer than Shallan does] Shallan (mildly): Always got to hug men longer than me, huh? Adolin: I haven't lost a hug duel yet, and I don't intend to start!

10. Renarin

Renarin: Oh, no thank you. Hoid: I respect that.

11. Eshonai

Eshonai: Wow! A human bonding ritual? Eshonai: So cool! Eshonai: Wow! You are so squishy with no shell! Hoid: Can't...breathe...hug...too...strong... Eshonai: Whoops! S-Sorry about that!

Bonus! The non-Stormlight Characters I accidentally wrote:

12. Vin

[Hoid is lying on the ground, huddled around himself] Elend: Right in the solar plexus, huh? Vin: H-He came at me with his arms stretched out! I thought it was an attack!

13. Tress

Tress: Awww, I'd love a hug, thank you! [Tress & Hoid are hugging!] Ulaam: What a sweet moment. Ulaam: Do you know what would make it better? Tress: ...I don't need any extra arms, Ulaam. Ulaam: So you've never head of hugmaxxing?

14. Kelsier

Kelsier: I love a good hug. Kelsier: A hug is like a smile--in a world like ours, it's a big "F you" to the powers to be to express small moments of happiness. Kelsier: That being said... Kelsier: I DON'T hug CORPSE SURFERS Hoid: What a strange personal rule. Kelsier: I'M NOT THE STRANGE ONE HERE

[cryinggirlnamedhelen]

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐀 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐁𝐘𝐄 — 𝐟𝐭; 𝐦𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐥 𝐤𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐫

you always knew that this day was coming.

from the moment you saw him step off the plane a few of his teammates following closely behind him as he glanced around the airport, you knew that your time with him would be temporary. that michael kaiser would just be a small part of your life as one of blue lock’s manager.

“welcome to japan, bastard münchen.” anri greeted. “the facility is just nearby. you guys can unpack your stuff there; the other teams haven’t arrived yet.” noa, who led the other u20 members, nodded.

he and the others certainly looked ridiculous in their caps and glasses and oversized hoodies, clear methods of avoiding paparazzi, but you knew better than to comment on their choice of clothing.

after a limousine ride full of random coughs and occasional bickering, the newly arriving bastard münchen members arrived to their rooms. “go check to see if any of them need help with anything.” anri instructed.

“yes maaaaam.” you drawled, slumping over to walk to the rooms of sweaty teenage boys who just got off a 12 hour flight. anri raised an eyebrow at you, before turning her head to give you a side eye.

“you applied for this job, by the way.”

“anriiiiii, i’m a teenage girl who just graduated high school. i should be spending my summer break doing something productive.” you muttered, although you knew clear as day that anri would reply with something backhanded.

“and you also get paid for this.” anri replied. “now go. i’ll make some ramen for you later.” your eyes lit up, and you sprinted back to squeeze her with a hug before walking away again.

“this is why i love you more than ego.” not staying long enough for her reply, you walked down the halls and straight to the room of the person who probably needed your concern the most: the new generation 11, michael kaiser.

although you were more annoyed at the fact that the overseas players got their own individual rooms while the actual blue lockers got to share. but who were you to complain to the jfu?

you knocked on his door. “uh, are you in there?” you opened the door, begging that he wasn’t changing. you let out a silent sigh of relief after seeing him still fully clothed. “do you need help with anything?” you asked.

you glanced around his room; everything was pristine and organized to the most minute detail. blue roses in a porcelain vase, a velvet rug, a literally fucking counter…how the hell did this guy make it through the airport security? but more importantly, he knew how to fucking treat himself. looks like his 300 million yen was serving him well. his room was perfect for royalty, except for one thing:

a dirty, patched up soccer ball.

“so eager to please, aren’t you?” he teased. you froze, eyebrows knitting together. annoying bitchass. what the fuck is wrong with this guy? his words were already rude enough, but his tone? “but i’m great right now, miss manager. what, are you this enthusiastic to be in my room—“

“it’s my job. and also, what’s with that soccer ball?” you nodded your head towards the ball. “it’s yours, right? is that your first soccer ball or something?”

for the first time in your hour of knowing him, a vein throbbed in kaiser’s temple, though his smug expression remained. “what? you got a problem with that?” you raised your eyebrows, stepping back a few steps.

“no, it’s cool.” you stammered quickly, hoping to avoid any conflict with him. you definitely didn’t want to miss with him. but it was cool, how he still kept his oldest soccer ball. “uh, so call me if you need anything and stuff.”

with that, you shut the door. and that was your first impression of michael kaiser; annoying, but also not too bad.

“you should microwave that.”

your voice barely brings out a twitch from kaiser’s fingers. “you sure love coming to my room, don’t you, miss manager?” kaiser drawled. you sighed, sitting onto the floor next to him. his cold leftovers from the fridge exuded iciness, and you didn’t even know if you could eat it without a stomachache.

“no. i have to take care of you guys; it’s my job. anyways, that shit is cold. microwave it. it’ll taste better. plus, you know that you can get new food from the cafeteria, right?” you muttered. “or you could just order takeout. you’re a literal millionaire.”

“mind your own business.”

you hummed. “you were really getting rage baited by isagi during the manshine match yesterday, weren’t you?” kaiser stiffened.

“i wasn’t,” he shoveled cold food through his lips. “he talks big for someone who hasn’t scored a single goal yet.”

“he still has 2 more matches.” you noted. “and as i said, you need to microwave that.” you glanced at his bed. “and why the hell aren’t you sleeping with a blanket? you’re gonna get sick. ego turns the ac to a fucking negative 500 degrees. oh, and—“

“what are you, my mom?” he interrupted.

“no, worried. do you need me to be your babysitter or something?”

“aw, miss manager, are you really this worried about me?” kaiser mocked, leaning into your face. you didn’t back your face away, staring back at him.

“it’s my job.”

with that, you stood up and left his room, opening amazon and ordering a blanket. and that was your second impression of michael kaiser; still annoying, but also someone who doesn’t know how to take care of himself.

“kaiser?”

the light in his room was nonexistent despite the blinding lantern on his desk. he clearly wasn’t in his best state during the ubers match earlier, and you were almost have concerns that he might just break down on the field.

you crept around his room, searching for him, until a noise caught your ear from the bathroom. you turned around, opening the bathroom door gradually, and in just one single moment, your heart dropped.

kaiser, kneeling on the floor, with both hands wrapped around his neck and saliva and coughs coming out of his mouth like profanities.

“kaiser?!” you exclaimed, kneeling down and forcing him to sit up. “what the fuck are you doing? are you—no, i can’t even fucking ask if you’re okay because i know damn well you’re not—what happened?! don’t fucking do this.” your eyebrows knitted together as you pulled his hands away from his neck, your clammy hands gripping onto kaiser’s unsteady ones.

“the fuck are you here for?” kaiser hissed. “this is none of your business. i’m just doing what i—“

but he couldn’t finish his sentence. because in a single swift movement, your palm had collided with his cheek. you slapped him. precious little emperor whose face has the whole internet pining for him.

an angry red welt began to form on his cheek. “what the fuck is wrong with you…?” he exclaimed. but his voice weakened as he saw the tears in your eyes.

“kaiser, if you fucking think that hurting yourself is the best way to ease your pain, get a fucking therapist. if you don’t want a professional one, i’ll be your therapist. just don’t hurt yourself. please.”

kaiser stared at you, his eyes widening. why did you care? you shouldn’t. you haven’t even known him for that long. “whatever. i don’t fucking care.” he stood up, left the bathroom, and ignored you as you followed him out while running. you had better thing to do than worry about him.

and that was your third impression of michael kaiser; someone with a fragile ego who needed help.

“don’t forget to microwave your food before eating it.”

“yeah.”

“don’t forget to use your blanket when you sleep.”

“yeah.”

“don’t forget to not skip your meals.”

“yeah.”

“don’t forget to not order takeout every single day.”

“yeah.”

“don’t choke yourself; or hurt yourself at all for that matter.”

“…”

your ear must have been bleeding now by how many times kaiser has said “yeah” to you in this past minute, but you needed to hear it one more time. “kaiser, i swear to—“

“mihya.”

“what?”

“…call me mihya. kaiser is too formal for you.”

“okay, mihya. don’t do anything harmful to yourself.”

mihya sighed as he glanced at you. he was angry just a few minutes ago at isagi, but he can’t bring himself to get mad at you, especially when it was his last day here and you wouldn’t be seeing him off at the airport; he dodged the question. “i’ll see you at the u20 world cup then?”

“mihya, answer the damn question.”

he began to walk to the locker room, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to enter there. you wanted to scream, but you knew you couldn’t. “yeah, i’ll see you there.” and you watched as his back slowly disappeared more and more from your life.

“i love you.”

he probably didn’t hear it. at least, that was what you thought. because for a moment, mihya nearly stopped in his tracks. he nearly turned around to throw you over his shoulder and take you back to germany with him.

but he didn’t.

and that was your last impression of michael kaiser—no, mihya—a boy you loved but never had enough time to be lovers with.

[simmerianne93]

[Simmerianne93]Portrait_poses_21

----------

Hello everyone!!! How are you doing??

Today is the last day of June, last day of Pride's month but these poses are a lil gift to celebrate all year... 'cause no matter who you love or how you feel about yourself... you have to be proud of yourself every single day in your life.

When I was making the pride posepack, I saw a pic about two boys getting married and got inspo to make some poses... and you'll say: but this pack is about two girls getting married...

Yeah... you just have to wait few minutes and check again my account...

I found a lot of inspo, and decided to make a pack for girls and a pack for boys... and yeah yeah... I know... you can use any adult pack with two girls or two boys... but body movements act different deppending on the shape... girls movements are more curvy and subtle... boys movements are more straighter and pointed. My intention with these packs are for them to look like they are trully two girls or two boys in the pic... and also to give you cute pics to marry your beautiful sims.

I really hope you like these two packs... and have some fun while playing with love.

----------

What is on it?

12 couple poses (made with two female rigs) + 4 all in one ( 2 for the poses without the acc and 2 with for the poses with the acc)

--- What do you need?

Andrew poses player

Teleport any sim by Scumbumbo or Mccc by deaderpool.

Pocci's wedding bouquet 

———

Instructions in the original post.

——

TOU

Do not claim my creations as your own.

Do not re-upload or modify my creations.

Do not make money of my creations.

Do not include my creations in Mods folders to download.

Please follow my Term Of Use.

——

Download it now here — [FREE FOR EVERYONE!!]

——————

If you want to support me:  Patreon | Ko-fi

All my poses overview: Pinterest |  Wix | Tumblr

More in-game preview pics of all my poses: Instagram

My socials: Twitter | BlueSky | Instagram | Tumblr

Lives and videos: Youtube

——————

I really hope you like them and I will say in advance: Thank you so much for using them.

@ts4-poses

--

[chara-cat5]

lads isekai au ch 12

reader is gender neutral, warning: swearing, mdni

masterlist

first 1

previous 11

next 13 (not out yet)

(q/a for any confused readers!!)

"you're not miss bodyguard."

you fidgeted your hands under rafayel's gaze, standing in the door to his studio while he sat perched on a ladder.

'why did i agree to this?'

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

"damn it."

both your and caleb's gazes snapped to mia, her soft curse directed at her phone as she glared at it.

"what is it, pipsqueak? something wrong?"

she looked up, a slight nervousness in her eyes. she turned off her phone, putting it down face down.

"no, it's nothing. a friend just needed something..."

"a friend, huh?"

you don't know if caleb had talked to her about sylus, but from his passive aggressive tone, you guessed he was assuming that is who she meant. you really shouldn't get involved with this...

"is it tara? i can take care of it. just text me the address."

the two glanced over to you, but you forced your gaze to stay on your breakfast, chewing casually.

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

and thats how you ended up here. a pouty fish climbing down his ladder, already complaining.

"she said she was coming over, but she lied and sent someone else instead. and here i was, excited to finally get to see her. she's been ignoring me for aaaaaages now."

you bit back an annoyed huff, shifting your feet.

"she just had a few things she needed to do. i can help you with whatever you need though."

he huffed, moving through the studio. without much else to do, you followed him.

"well, i wanted time with miss mia today... but i guess we can do some errands without her."

he made it to what looked like a bedroom, moving right to the connecting bathroom. you stayed in the bedroom part, moving to the large window. you looked out past his wispy curtains at the beach below.

"what kind of errands are we talking? grocery shopping?"

"pah-leese. we're going to a market, cutie. i hope you wore walking shoes."

you glanced at the door to the bathroom, humming softly. a farmers market actually sounded pretty fun, but with rafayel? you'd probably just end up carrying his bags.

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

the market place was a little crowded, other customers milling around, chatting among themselves. this had defiantly been a date idea meant for rafayel and mia to experience, plenty of other couples happily weaving among tables. you followed behind rafayel, keeping an eye on him while also browsing yourself. you weren't sure what he was here for exactly, but farmers markets were always fun so why not relax a little? you paused at one shop, looking at the delicious loaves of bread. you picked up a loaf of sourdough, taking note of the little heart cut into the top.

"spot something you want, cutie?"

you glanced up, meeting pink-blue eyes over you shoulder. he looked over the different loaves, picking up the one in your hand.

"we'll take this one."

you watched them exchange money, huffing softly as he took the bag and started walking again.

"i was just looking. you didn't have to get it."

"yeah, but you wanted it. so i did."

you scrunched up your face, following along. he stopped every so often, buying a few things. he didn't actually hand you the bags, fine with carrying what he bought. he did give you the bread, but that's because he bought it for you. when asked why, he dodged the question, just telling you to share it with mia. the two of you took a break halfway through, stopping in the shade while he organized his bags. you caught sight of a table selling meat skewers and you bought two. one with chicken and one with shrimp.

'rafayel likes seafood, right?'

walking back over, you hold the shrimp one out to him.

"here you go. snack time."

he blinked at it before taking it from you, tilting his head at it. you just ate your own, happily chomping down. he took a bite, watching you closely.

"... were they out of chicken?"

you glanced up, mid-bite, surprised by his question. you slowly lowered your skewer, glancing between his gaze and his skewer.

"do you... not like shrimp?"

he hummed, taking another bite, looking away casually.

"no i do. i was just wondering why you got me a different type."

shit. you hadn't thought it through when you bought them, only thinking about getting him something he'd like. excuse excuse excuse- ah!

you padded closer, drawing his gaze. before he could relax, you bit the next shrimp on the stick. he blinked at you as you chewed, lips parting slightly.

"hey! thats mine!"

you let out a laugh, holding out your own skewer.

"you can try mine too. sorry, i just wanted to give the different types a taste."

he hummed, hesitantly bitting into a piece of chicken. he chewed with a skeptical look, narrowing his eyes.

"how's it taste? it's good right? love me some greasy food!"

you took another bite, glad to be able to distract him for even a moment.

"it's good. thanks for getting me one."

you gave him a smile, nodding happily.

"no problem!"

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

after your time at the farmers market, you returned to his studio, helping him put up his purchases. you put the food in the kitchen and a basket he had insisted on getting in the middle of the counter.

"do you think i bought too much?"

you hummed softly, glancing in his direction.

"i wouldn't say you got too much, no. as long as you eat all the food, you aren't being wasteful. it should probably help you eat more constantly anyway. i know how artists like you get sucked into their work."

you went back to organizing his fridge, not noticing the elongated pause. when you did notice the silence and closed the door, you were met with a cheshire cat smile.

"an artist like me, hmm? and just what does that mean cutie?"

you blinked at him. geez- how many times have you fucked up with revealing too much? first sylus, then caleb (from him overhearing), then rafayel. twice today!

"i-... i just know how artists are. i had a friend a while back and had to force her to eat and drink water..."

he watched you for a moment longer before stepping around you, towards his bedroom.

"alrighty. well, i have a bath to take so you can go now. tell mia i expect something extra for skipping out today."

you watched him go, feeling like that was too easy.

'not the time to look a gift horse in the mouth, time to go.'

.

.

affinity l̶e̶v̴e̵l̸ [19]

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taglist: @sleepisfortheweakpooh @plzdonutpercieveme @young-adult-summer @mentaltrouble2201 @noxus123 @asakiyu @leftpoetrymoon @hon3yydew @anemobabygirl @clandestienly @crimsonrubie @beaconsxd @yuurisfavblog @cutiesgaloree @udejoenrlddo @mephisto-with-a-knife @poptrim @rhoswen-drake @szafficat

hello!!

don't know if this one seems too short, the notes app was starting to go slow on the page, but that might be because last chapter was too long, dunno. i do in twos on each 'note' and after a certain word count, it gets choppy.

anyway, raf has returned! love a little sassy fishy. got work today, so i'll probably only get one chapter today and one chapter tomorrow, we'll see.

thank you for reading!!

-chara <3

[gav-san]

Operation Cold Front

Main Masterlist Here

One Piece Masterlist

Oneshot: Aokiji Kuzan x reader Length: 2.5 K+ Rating: 12+ (Language)

Marineford’s New Year’s Bash was supposed to be harmless—drinks, bad singing, and a spontaneous midnight kiss. You weren’t planning on participating. You definitely weren’t planning on kissing someone. Especially not an Admiral.

For @hannahbarberra162

Marineford’s New Year’s Bash had always been a little unhinged, but this year? This year, it hit you like a freight train driven by a ghost with abs and questionable morals.

Most Marines looked forward to it all year. It was the one night the brass loosened their collars, rank meant nothing, and even Garp might be caught doing the worm if you got enough sake in him. The biggest tradition? At the stroke of midnight, everyone kissed someone. It didn’t matter who. It was supposed to be spontaneous, symbolic, chaotic.

And tonight, you—poor, unsuspecting you—got caught in it.

You came alone. No expectations. No date. Definitely no intention of participating in a tradition that turned a fortress of order into a glorified frat party with nicer boots.

You didn’t do spontaneous kisses. Especially not with strangers.

But life had other plans. And tonight, you were alone. Looking good. Looking just vulnerable enough to attract attention.

It started small. A weird prickle along the back of your neck. That sense of being watched, not in a way that screamed danger, but something else entirely. Like someone had just found the most interesting thing in the room, and unfortunately, it was you.

You turned. Nothing. Just Marines drinking, shouting, laughing too loud. The countdown ticked closer.

You were nursing a fizzy drink near the edge of the room, quietly weighing your options. You could leave early. You could hide. You could duck into a broom closet and wait it out.

Too late.

“Ten! Nine! Eight!”

A warm hand brushed your elbow. The air shifted. Crisp and cool, laced with something sharp: peppermint, winter, and the kind of trouble that smiled slow.

You turned, half-prepared to give a polite excuse, and instead came chest-to-chest with a man who very much did not belong here.

Black coat, no rank. No name tag. No shine. Just a dark shirt stretched over lean muscle, a slouchy beanie pulled low over messy curls, and sunglasses tipped down his nose like he was either late to the party or early to a crime scene.

He was tall. Unnecessarily tall. The kind of tall that made you tilt your head back too far just to keep eye contact, especially with how close he was standing. His coat hung open just enough to tease a glimpse of toned abs beneath his shirt, and when he smiled—lazy, crooked, amused—it hit like a strong drink on an empty stomach.

He smelled like mint and cold night air. Like the beginning of a bad decision you were already halfway to making.

You blinked. He didn’t.

His head dipped, his voice a low curl of amusement. “You looked like you needed saving.”

And those eyes, still hidden behind his shades, but somehow you could feel them. Focused. Curious. Unshaken.

You blinked again. “Do I—know y—”

“Five! Four!”

“Happy New Year,” he said, like it was a secret, his voice warm and slow as a velvet yawn.

You took a small step back. “Do I… know you?”

His lips quirked, just enough to make your breath hitch. “You will.”

He reached out, fingers brushing under your chin. Just two. A gentle, deliberate touch, tilting your face toward his. He stepped in closer. You didn’t stop him. Couldn’t. His presence locked you in place, quiet and sure.

“Three! Two—!”

And then—without asking, without hesitation—he kissed you.

It wasn’t clumsy. It wasn’t rushed.

It was slow, certain, and filthy. The kind of kiss that short-circuited your thoughts and rewrote your sense of time. His lips moved like he knew exactly how to kiss you. Like he’d mapped it out, counted the seconds, traced the shape of your mouth in some private, silent corner of his mind long before tonight.

His lips were cool from the air, but his mouth was hot, fever-warm, unreasonably skilled, and utterly focused on yours. It was not the kiss of a stranger. Not by a long shot.

It started like a question and turned into a command.

A sound broke from you before you could stop it, quiet, startled, helpless, as his hand slid to the back of your neck. His fingers curled just enough to guide you, hold you, remind you that he was deciding how long this kiss lasted. Not you.

Another hand pressed against the small of your back and pulled you in, chest to chest, like there was no crowd, no noise, no reason to pretend he wasn’t claiming you with every slow drag of his mouth over yours.

Your knees nearly gave. Your fingers curled into his coat, clutching tight, needing something to anchor yourself because the floor was gone and the world had narrowed to him.

The kiss deepened. Slowly. Deliberately. Not sloppy. Not innocent. Like he had all the time in the world to unravel you. Like this was just the beginning.

You weren’t thinking anymore. You couldn’t. Your brain had shorted out somewhere between the first brush of his lips and the second pull of your hips against his. The countdown ended, the cheers exploded, but they barely registered. Just noise, distant and meaningless compared to the heat blooming in your chest.

It was the kiss. The kind that rewired your heartbeat and dropped your thoughts into your shoes. Not rushed. Not messy. Intentional. The kind that curled your toes, stole your breath, and made you forget where you were, or who you were supposed to be.

This wasn’t a party kiss. This was a choice. A claim. A problem waiting to happen.

You froze for half a second, hands stupidly hovering midair, then grabbed his coat like instinct had taken the wheel. Like some part of you already knew what danger tasted like, and didn’t care.

When he finally pulled back, the space between you barely a breath, your lips were slick and kiss-drunk, your body still trying to catch up with what just happened.

His sunglasses glinted, and that lazy grin spread across his mouth like it had all the time in the world.

“That,” he murmured, voice warm and low, “was worth the wait.”

You blinked up at him, still dazed. “Wh… wait?”

“I’ve had my eye on you,” he said smoothly, thumb brushing your cheek with a gentleness that didn’t match the heat curling in his voice. “You’re hard to get close to. Pretty. Distracted. Always running around like no one’s watching.”

Your breath caught. The way he said it, like a fact, not a compliment, made your heart lurch.

“Who are you?” you whispered.

He leaned in again, so close you felt his lips ghost along the shell of your ear.

You shivered.

Then, with infuriating calm, he pushed his sunglasses up with one finger and said, almost lazily, “Thanks for the kiss. Been waiting for someone cute to take the bait.”

He lingered a moment longer, nose brushing your cheek, lips parting like he had more to say… but chose silence instead. The tension hummed between you, thick enough to taste.

Then he pulled back, slowly, confidently, and turned. No rush. No glance over his shoulder. Just walked into the crowd and vanished.

No name. No rank. Nothing.

You stood there stock-still, lips still tingling, brain still buffering. Like maybe you’d just made out with a particularly hot hallucination.

You exhaled. “What the fuck,” you muttered. “Was that a sexy… snowghost?”

You stood in the middle of the party like you’d just been hit by a meteor made of sex appeal and career-ending choices.

The music kept playing. Fireworks lit up the sky. People were kissing, laughing, drinking. But all you could hear was the echo of his voice murmuring Happy New Year and the ghost of his mouth stealing yours like it already belonged to him.

Gone.

He vanished into the crowd like a frostbitten phantom. No name. No trace. Just the memory of heat and mint and maddening calm.

You blinked slowly. “…Was that real?”

“Bitch,” said a familiar voice beside you. “Tell me you did not just kiss someone that hot and act like it wasn’t planned.”

You turned, still dazed. “I didn’t know who he was. He just appeared. Touched my elbow and then—bam. Kissed me. And then left.”

Another friend squinted in the direction he disappeared. “Wasn’t he hovering behind you for, like… ten minutes? Just edging closer like a very confident iceberg?”

You opened your mouth. Closed it.

“…Shit,” you muttered. “What was that?”

“Your villain origin story,” your friend said flatly. “You just got seduced by a sexy cryptid in a beanie. Good luck explaining that to HR.”

You stared. “He what now?”

“Yeah,” the first friend said, sipping their drink. “We saw him earlier. Looked like some guy who got lost on the way to a jazz club. Coat, hat, hands in his pockets. But he was just… orbiting. Always three feet behind you.”

You blinked. “And you didn’t say anything?”

They shrugged. “We thought you invited him.”

You threw your hands up. “Why would I invite a sexy stranger I don’t know to kiss me at midnight?!”

“…I mean. Why wouldn’t you?” your friend said with a shrug that was far too casual for your unraveling state.

You groaned and dragged your hands down your face like you could peel the memory off your skin. “That kiss was criminal. That kiss had intent.”

“Hey, uh…” one of them murmured, voice suddenly tight, eyes flicking past you. “Not to alarm you…”

You turned.

And there he was.

Standing just inside the edge of the crowd, half-shadowed by the glow of string lights and the flicker of sparklers. Not moving. Just watching.

Same black coat, unzipped just enough to hint at the muscle beneath. Same ridiculous sunglasses, still perched like the sun hadn’t set hours ago. Same slouched posture, like he had all the time in the world and nowhere better to be.

He looked like a noir protagonist who got lost on his way to a stakeout and decided to flirt with fate instead.

Your breath caught.

His gaze locked with yours.

He tilted his head, like he was studying something. Or deciding something.

Then came the smirk. Small. Slow. Lazy. Devastating.

And without a word, without so much as a nod, he turned and walked away. Again.

Melted into the crowd like smoke. Like he hadn’t just kissed the breath out of you and rearranged your whole damn year in a single, deliberate moment.

“…He’s gone,” your friend whispered. “Again. Like a horny snow leopard.”

You kept staring, lips parted slightly, heart climbing up your throat.

“…Am I hallucinating?” you asked.

“No,” they said. “But you are in trouble.”

You turned back to them, eyes wide. “You saw that too, right? That wasn’t—like—a stress hallucination?”

“Oh no,” they said, grinning over the rim of their drink. “That man has plans.”

“He kissed me and didn’t even give me a name!”

“That man doesn’t need a name. He has cheekbones. And intention.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but another friend cut in, brow furrowed. “Wait… did anyone else think he looked kind of familiar?”

Everyone paused.

Like a collective cartoon freeze-frame.

“…Familiar how?” you asked slowly.

“I don’t know,” they said, chewing their lip. “I feel like I’ve seen him in a debrief photo? Or a bounty poster? Or maybe—like—a security feed?”

The silence deepened.

You blinked. “Security feed where?”

They shrugged. “I don’t remember. But I’m pretty sure he wasn’t supposed to be in it.”

You looked back toward the crowd, heart starting to pound again.

“…What if I just kissed someone on an international watchlist?”

“Then,” your friend said brightly, “he definitely kissed back. So, y’know. Mutual crime.”

Before you could respond, someone passed by behind you said, casual, and unconcerned, “Hey, was that Admiral Kuzan?”

You blinked. “What?”

The stranger pointed toward the thinning crowd. “Tall guy? Black coat, beanie, sunglasses at night like a menace? Yeah, that’s totally him. He always shows up for New Year’s, pulls some cryptic bullshit, then disappears. Classic Kuzan.”

Your friends slowly turned to stare at you, eyes wide in dawning horror.

“Oh,” one of them whispered. “Oh no.”

You stood frozen. Blank. Brain: white screen, error tone.

“No,” you said flatly. “No. It was a sexy snowghost. It was not an Admiral.”

“You kissed Aokiji,” another friend said, voice half awe, half accusation. “You kissed THE Admiral Kuzan.”

You shook your head. “Nope. I refuse. That’s slander.”

“You tongue-wrestled justice,” someone added unhelpfully.

“Stop talking.”

“You made out with a Marine legend.”

“I didn’t know who he was!” you hissed, voice an octave too high.

“Okay, but he knew who you were,” someone muttered behind their cup. “That’s the real plot twist.”

You stared into the middle distance. The party blurred: music thumping, fireworks cracking overhead, laughter echoing like it came from underwater. Somewhere, someone popped a bottle of champagne. Somewhere else, someone screamed “I love the Marines!” with alarming conviction.

You barely heard any of it.

“…I’m going to need another drink,” you said quietly.

“And possibly a lawyer,” your friend added.

The horror set in slowly. Like frostbite.

You had kissed an Admiral.

No. He had kissed you.

And your so-called friends had stood by and watched him inch closer for ten solid minutes like it was a slow-moving nature documentary. Apparently, they’d just decided not to intervene.

“Oh yeah,” someone nearby chuckled. “That’s his thing. Likes to pretend he’s a civilian. One time he slow danced with a vice admiral’s wife at the Spring Gala. Nobody noticed until she started booking a spa weekend and calling him ‘Mister Cool.’”

You stood there, numb, brain shorting out with the effort of pretending this wasn’t your life. Your heart was still pounding. Your lips still tingled. Like they’d been electrocuted by some kind of smug ice elemental with a thing for foreplay and excellent coat selection.

“…I kissed an Admiral,” you whispered, like saying it aloud might erase the memory, scrub it from reality, rewind time.

It didn’t.

He was real. The kiss was real. And judging by the way your bones still hadn’t caught up with your skin, it hadn’t even been casual. It had weight. Intention. Heat you were still trying to blink out of your eyelashes.

You tried again. Blinked hard. Nothing changed.

Somewhere in the crowd, you could practically feel him laughing. Cool. Calm. Unbothered. Probably sipping something criminally weak and wandering off to commit emotional terrorism elsewhere.

You buried your face in your hands.

Your drink was gone. Your lips were tingling. Your hair was a little mussed. Fingers, his fingers, had definitely been involved. 

The rest of the party carried on around you like you hadn’t just made out with a walking political nightmare in a beanie.

“Hey. You good?” a nearby ensign asked, pausing mid-sip to study your dumbfounded expression.

You looked at them like you were seeing color for the first time. “I just kissed someone.”

“Yeah. Kind of the point of the tradition.”

You turned fully, eyes wide. “No. I kissed an Admiral.”

They blinked, slow. “Wait. You kissed who?”

“I didn’t know!” you said, throwing your arms up. “He looked like a civilian. Just this hot, lazy, unshaven guy in a coat, muttering like he was gonna ask to bum a cigarette and tell me some tragic story about snow.”

The ensign stared.

“…Was he tall?”

“Yes.”

“Sunglasses?”

“Yes.”

“Looked like he needed a nap and might’ve slept through a war?”

You groaned, dragging your hands down your face. “Yes.”

The ensign wheezed. “Oh my god. That was Kuzan. You kissed Admiral Kuzan.”

You nearly folded in place like a cheap deck chair.

“I’m so dead,” you whispered.

“No, no,” the ensign said, grinning way too hard now. “You’re not dead. You’re doomed. He’s gonna haunt-flirt you for years.”

Because let’s be clear, kissing a random hottie at midnight? Cute. Harmless. Tradition.

Kissing one of the highest-ranking men in the entirety of Marineford, who had very deliberately not introduced himself?

You were either going to end up on a watchlist or become this month’s most circulated piece of office gossip.

You grabbed the nearest support beam like it could protect you from the incoming tsunami of consequences.

“Oh gods,” you muttered. “I’m gonna get transferred. Some frozen outpost. Or Enies Lobby. Do they even do laundry there?”

The ensign looked far too delighted. “You kissed the Admiral. What was it like?”

You stared at them. “Illegal. That’s what it was like.”

Then you started pacing, tight little circles of panic forming under your boots.

“What if someone saw? What if this is entrapment? What if he has me arrested for fraternization? I don’t even know him! What if this was a sting? What if he makes me write a report? How do I even title that—‘Subject did, with full mouth, engage in unsanctioned lip-based maneuver with Admiral disguised as civilian snow hobo?’”

You stopped abruptly. “Do I go apologize? Pretend it never happened? Kiss him again and go out in flames?”

The ensign patted your shoulder like you were seconds from a full meltdown. To be fair, you were.

“Listen,” they said calmly, “if Kuzan didn’t want to be kissed, he wouldn’t have made himself look like a tragic romance novel lumberjack. That man knew exactly what he was doing.”

You groaned and dragged your hands over your face like you could physically wipe the memory off your skin. “Kissing an Admiral. Fantastic. I’m gonna end up on a bulletin board somewhere. ‘Wanted: for catastrophic impulse control and an unfortunate taste in cryptic older men.’”

Your friends snorted, but you couldn’t even look at them. Not while your whole body was still buzzing like it had been short-circuited by a single, stupidly good kiss from someone with national security clearance.

You stood frozen in the middle of the party, lips still warm, heart doing parkour in your chest, and brain fully, gloriously offline. You were one blackout away from becoming a cautionary tale they whispered about in HR orientation. A myth. A warning.

And somewhere out there, in the sea of bodies and chaos and bad karaoke, the man responsible for it all was probably walking away again. Cool. Calm. Unbothered.

Like he hadn’t just stolen your sanity with his mouth and then disappeared like a sexy seasonal cryptid.

You exhaled slowly, voice a wrecked little whisper.

“…I need to lie down. Or enlist somewhere else.”

[honey-on-your-tongue]

Corruption kink with boyfriend Simon Riley, part 8 (nsfw)

Part 7 here

You like sitting on Simon’s lap. He knows you do. You like being there, kissing his neck, his lips, as his fingers slip into your pussy, giving you what you need.

Lately, you’ve taken to wearing absolutely nothing but one of Simon’s shirts when sitting on his lap, and he loves it. He loves feeling your slick trickle down your thighs and onto his pants, loves the way it permeates the thin material and slowly makes his cock wet. It drives him crazy.

That’s exactly the case today. He’s been making you come over and over, and there’s a wet patch on the front of his pants, both from your slick and his pre.

When you’ve finally had enough, Simon pulls his fingers out of you. But he feels like he’s losing his mind. His eyes are a little wild, pupils blown wide from lust and need. He holds your gaze as he whispers, “Baby, lemme feel your pussy.”

You’re somewhat confused as to what he means; he just had his fingers in you. But when he pulls his cock out, you understand.

Simon watches your pretty eyes widen a little, senses your sudden nervousness. “Baby, baby, relax. I ain’t gonna put it in,” he promises. “Not gonna put it in. Just need to feel her against my cock, yeah?”

He can tell you’re unsure, a little hesitant, by the look you give him.

“Here, baby. I’ll do it to show you, and if you don’t like it, you can tell me to stop. ‘kay?”

You nod hesitantly and he grabs your hips. He pulls your hips closer, carefully places his cock against your folds. He shudders. You’re so warm, so wet. His cock twitches. He’s dying to fuck you, dying. But he’s going to wait for you.

He looks up at you, gauging your expression. Your eyes are wide, but you look a little more at ease now that you understand what he wants. Your eyes are on his cock against your pussy, your breathing heavy. When you meet his gaze, you nod softly.

Simon carefully grinds you against him, cock slotting between your folds, puffy from his hand earlier, and the bulbous head bumps against your clit.

You gasp, hands landing on his shoulders for balance. Simon growls, eyes shutting tight.

“Oh, fuck. Baby, you feel so good.”

He guides your hips at first, but you’re quick to grind against him harder, needing more friction. Soon, you’re moaning, squealing, nails digging into his shoulders.

Simon’s cock is soaked in your juices, he can barely breathe from how hard he’s trying to not come yet.

Your legs start shaking, body quaking, and you come. And Simon loses it. He comes, feeling your slick gush onto his cock, and he grunts. His load spurts onto your mound, thick white ropes making a mess of you. It takes him a while to come down, a while to regain his breath and his ability to think.

As he kisses your neck, your jaw, he lowly says, “God, baby. God. Can’t wait to be in this perfect pussy, stretch her out, mold her to my cock every day.”

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Part 8

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Taglist

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*if you wanna be added to my Ghost taglist, lmlk 💛

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Ghost masterlist

[voie-lacte3]

—best friend! reader X mason thames

| based on this request!!

| check out his masterlist!

| taglist! anon list! main masterlist!

the first person who realizes mason has a crush on you is his mom because one day, when she picks him up early from school, he comes out in literal tears. “n/n and i were about to color our math sheet!” he whines, curly locks full of small yellow flowers. “mason, honey, why do you have flower in your hair?” she asks, going to pick one out. “no! dont! y/n put them in my hair during recess, we were matching!” he pulls away, petting the flower back in place.

while it wasn’t new for mason to be mentioning you— having been friends with him since kindergarten, it was a little strange that the little devil spawn 9 year old mason was let you touch his hair, giving he made such a big deal when she herself tried to comb through it.

sure you guys were “best friends”, you did everything together. every school trip you were glued to each others side, whenever mason was upset, he’d run over to yours across the street, whenever he found something amusing, his first thought was to show you. but the little gleam in little 9 year old mason said otherwise, he just didn’t know how to feel that emotion quite yet.

her husband called her crazy for suggesting mason liked you, said you guys were just kids. and maybe he was right, maybe she was reading too much into it…..

the second person to realize mason has a crush on you is his older sister, brooke.

it was the day before valentines day and mason has been in the kitchen since approximately 6pm, it was now 8:30pm.

“what are you up to mace?” she question, watching as her 12 year old brother dips a pretzel in white chocolate, swirling it around and wiping the excess off.

in reality, brooke knew what he was doing, she wasn’t stupid or blind. she noticed how his eyes and voice softened when talking about you— how he got a certain look in his eyes. she noticed how his gaze would linger on you for a second more than everyone else. she saw how he always wanted to be near you, whether you were talking to him or not. she noticed everything.

“masonnnn, gimme one” “ack!” he twats her hand away immediately, playfully glaring at her. “no touchy, they’re for n/n.” brooke laughs as the tips of his ears turn red, “you like her, don’t you?” the poor boy practically chokes on his saliva. “WHAT?! wh-why would you even think that?? im just…being a good best friend”

brooke raises an eyebrow, “what happened to valentines is fucking stupid. we don’t need a whole day to grow a pair to ask someone out” the boy just rolls his eyes, “if you’re just gonna annoy me, go away”

the girl snickers, “you’re so whipped—” “SHUT UP” the girl laughs one more time before leaving the boy to his shenanigans.

the third and fourth people to realize mason has a crush on you are your parents.

it was a random saturday night, your parents were sitting next to eachother on the couch, half watching a movie, half chit-chatting away. and of course, mason was over again. you were on the couch, stretched out in sweats with a blanket over you, mason was sitting criss cross on the floor in front of you. you had your fingers in his hair, half braiding it, half twirling differnt curls on your finger, all while he pretended not to enjoy it as much as he did.

“can you get that piece,” he mumbles, tilting his head forwards, motioning to a stubborn strand near his temple. you happily comply, adding the curly strand to your braid, throwing your legs over his shoulders.

your mom glances up, “crazy how he makes a big fuss over anyone touching his hair, except when it’s our y/n” your dad laughs, “maybe cause they’re close, i wouldn’t want someone i dont really know to be touching my hair, especially if i had curls like that.” they both look over to you again. you were now leaning over, showing him a funny tiktok. his cheeks were slightly flushed as he laughed, glancing up at you with heart eyes.

your mom leans into your dad, a knowing look on both their faces. “he’s down bad for her, isn’t he” “worse part, she doesn’t even realize it”

the last and final person to realize mason has a crush on you is his dad.

it was your freshman year of high school, knowing it was his last year of public school, mason asked you out to homecoming, as friends of course.

his dad had taken him to get his suit and tie a couple weeks before the event, and the way mason talked about you, how excited he was, how he wanted everything to be perfect, made him realize his wife was indeed not crazy.

the night of the dance, you wore a pretty green dress paired with silver heels, brooke had helped you with your hair and makeup. and mason didn’t even recognize the feeling that hit him when he saw you, but his dad did. his dad saw how utterly whipped his son was for you. and when he saw one of the pictures brooke took, the way mason’s eyes were locked on you with a soft, unexplainable look as you laughed at something your mom said, he knew.

he knew that his dear son had fallen hard for you, and no amount of help would pick him up.

now it’s almost 2 years later, you’re both 17 and his newest movie comes out in a 2 weeks. mason was set to come home for a couple days before he had to go do interviews and attend premieres, and of course, no one told you.

you had just gotten home from work, “hey honey! how was work?” your mom questions as you set your keys on the counter. “really hectic. this older guy got the wrong drink or something and he just started going off. screaming all sorts of things no man should say to a child, at my face, and like, i wasn’t even his server. it honestly made me want to quit” you explain, rubbing your temples.

you let out a long sigh, “imma go shower and then head to canes,” you dont even wait for your moms reply, heading straight to your room. luckily this was your last day working at canes so you didn't really care if you were a little late. you kick your shoes off and go to your closet, riffling through everything like it was a sport.

you grab that God awful black polo and blue baggy jeans, everything smells vaguely like detergent and chaos. you pad to your bathroom, washing off the stressful feeing of your first job.

meanwhile in the kitchen, your mom sends a text message:

| she's home and in the shower, how far are yall?

| outside your door lolzzzz

by the time you emerge from the shower, you have about 40 minutes until you have to leave. you lazily walk over to your vanity and begin to moisturize, deciding to call mason, still feeling the need to rant about the costumer from earlier.

it goes straight to voicemail.

“rude,” you scoff, reaching for your blow dryer. your door then creaks open, you pause, staring at it through the mirror. “...hello?” “if this was a horror movie, you’d so be dead” a voice teases. the one voice that could yank a smile out of you even if you were stabbed.

you spin around immediately, screaming at the top of your lungs, probably scaring half the neighborhood.

you scramble off your chair, dropping your phone, almost face planting on your carpet floor, legs practically giving out from the whiplash as you swing the door fully open, jumping straight into his arms. he’s in a black tee, grey sweatpants, and rocking very dirty converse. he has the biggest smile plastered on his face as his strong arms wrap around your waist. “surprise?”

your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him impossibly close. “why didnt you tell me?! you’re such an asshole,” “and yet, you’re still hugging me.” you scoff at his words, yet don’t let go.

────୨ৎ────

later that night, after skipping your last shift at canes and eating dinner with both families, learning about the set and his cast mates, you telling him about school and how excited you were for senior year, and overall just catching up, you head towards your room.

the lights are off, your on your bed, curled into masons side, the original Spiderman with Tobey Maguire playing on your tv. your mouthing the lines to yourself, having seen this movie hundreds of times— with and without mason, he’s not even watching the movie, eyes fixated you.

“i missed you, y’know”, he mumbles, playing with the necklace that sat on your collarbone, “hm?” you look up at him, quirking a brow up. “bro, are you even watching the movie?” “of course i am, why wouldn’t i be watching the movie we’ve watched 47 other times,” he rolls his eyes playfully, “pay attention,” you almost pout, smacking his arm.

“look! look! this scene?! peak cinema!”, your hands chaotically move around, waving as you passionately explain why. and mason? there’s not a single thought behind those delicate eyes of his. the way your face lights up, and the way you scrunch your nose, dont even get him started on the way you lean a little closer into him when you get excited? he’s not sure his heart’s beating normally anymore.

he doesn’t even realize he’s leaning in until your voice catches slightly and you’re looking at him with your brows raised in question.

his brain short circuits, “can i…” you blink, “what?” you almost laugh, confused out of your mind. he stares at you, blush slowly creeping up his neck. he quickly looks away, coward. but then you tilt your head, leaning the tiniest bit— barely noticeable really, but of course he notices. “what?” you ask again, this time softer, a little quieter.

“can i— can i kiss you?”

the silence afterwards is so incredibly loud he wants to physically melt into a puddle and soak into the couch. and then you laugh, cute (his words) giggles leaving your mouth, your body physically moving from how much you were laughing.

“m-mace—” you huff out, causing him to get even redder, his facial expression dropping. “if you wanted to do a tiktok trend, you could have just asked.” in a heartbeat, you grab his phone, going to the infamous clock app and choosing a random audio. you prop his phone up and begin recording. the beat drops and you lean over, giving his mouth a small peck.

you retract before he can even react, stopping the video and going back to your movie. “there ya go, just edit it or something, oh and definitely tag me”

he pouts as your attention shifts to the screen in front of you once more. you left him completely dumbfounded. he stays silent for a few more minutes, contemplating what he should do.

he groans, causing you to look at him again, fake judgement on your face. “mason, what the he—”

his lips crash onto yours.

they’re soft, slightly chapped, and a little unsure. he kisses you like he’s been waiting for this moment for years. which, i guess he has. you hesitate for a second, causing him to pull away. “i-im sorry. i–” “shut up,” you whisper, pulling him back in.

a/n: should i make a pt 2??? or turn this into an AU?? also this is NOT proofread

BOW DIVIDER CREDS GO TO @cursed-carmine

tags: @bluebvrriee @v4mpire-bit3s @neroloops @m-e-m06 @icollectrubberduckies @tuttifrutt1 @unsaidjaelinrose @sorry-for-party-rocking-rah @courta13 @thegr8estpuff @90zl1ps @user168537 @katie-the-bookworm @cecedelove @ktaerssoi @celestiiql @hyukabean @slutforchrissturniolo2

[werezmastarbucks]

12. horseradish behaviour

flowers over boys masterlist

in which oppa chokes you

word count: 2946

warnings: it's not harder daddy. it's more of a "imma mcquacking kill you because you piss me off so bad" type of choking. :( so tw

you admire the way the magnolia branch looks gilded, too, in the rich light from the lamps.

the room is specifically designed for the late audiences; in the sunlight the intricacies of the paintings aren't as obvious as now, the orange hopping light of the fire highlights the blood on tops of the mountains. it's a beautiful and eerie trick that the threat posed behind the king's back only becomes visible when it's night, that is to say, too late. the columns become blood-red. flowers in one corner you've managed to decorate look sacrificial. you get why he used to keep the shutters closed.

you turn as you hear the door slide closed, and see Yoongi, an inseparable continuation of the room. even though there's no stone, he produces echo as he steps forward once. his presence is in itself a loud sound, even though he is quiet. it's just the fiery persona of his simple black dragon robe and the hair that takes in the fire and becomes liquid gold.

"night owl?" you suggest and step closer to the magnolia branch. suddenly you're shy about the unfinished work. he wasn't supposed to see it only 10% done. reading your movement, his eyes move up to the blood-pink small flowers that will look spring-like and ethereal tomorrow. now they look like an omen.

"i was walking to the chambers when i saw the light in my throne room. so late at night".

"moon isn't even half-way across the sky", you wave it away. Yoongi lifts up his chin a little and you are glad the abilities of him do not include reading minds in literal sense. cause you know that robe is hiding insanely strong shoulders and the muscular back that he could potentially theoretically hypothetically throw you on.

"are you liking the new job?"

"the pay is shit".

"i don't pay you anything".

"exactly".

you shift in place. a week ago you would've barged past him out of the room, because the saw is still lying under the magnolia tree, and a second branch needs to be cut down and brought here, and you start feeling tired already. his eyes never give you any break, and now his tongue joins them, going over his upper lip ponderously.

"you still have something of mine".

to busy yourself with something, you begin gathering small pieces of leaves and sticks from the floor.

"did you know", you croak, sitting yourself on the first step of the platform leading to the royal seat, "that magnolias are so ancient that they already existed at the time when dinosaurs strolled this planet?"

he looks relaxed. not spiteful. although calling him spiteful, even when he was angry, would be wrong. he looks like he isn't about to try to cut, or poke, something out of you. that's it. mildly curious, putting his hands behind his back. he took off the earrings already. but tail looks so neat, like he fixes the state of it every ten minutes.

"dinosaurs".

"i know it's not your fault but it's kinda embarrassing that i get to explain a word to you guys every other day. i mean", you point at his robe, "dragons".

"serpents?"

"yes. it was such a long time ago when magnolia genus appeared, that even bees didn't exist yet to pollinate them. beetles had to do it. that's why the magnolia petals are so meaty and sweet, you can eat them. practically it's fruit".

"the word that you said first sounds Greek. terrible... lizard".

you're seriously impressed. so much that at first you fail to see that he keeps taking steps forward to you.

"how many languages do you know?"

"how many do you know?" suggestive, deep voice. you narrow your eyes.

"you're not getting your knife back. quit sneaking up to me".

"once again you demonstrate knowledge of things far out of the scope of what someone like you should know".

"ugh, and who is..."

"and yet demonstrate the complete lack of understanding of the palace code".

"i know, i know", you pat yourself on the lower back, "i think we were past the informal conversation pearl clutching".

"standing - or sitting - in between the king and his seat is punishable".

you rub your face.

"let me guess. by death?"

"no", he smirks like he is so benevolent, "merely flogging".

your nose feels scratchy.

"i'll pass". this is not the time for innuendos. you almost bite your tongue literally. you want to keep some dignity. but Yoongi takes a step aside, looking around his throne room like he sees it for the first time. the way his tail tilts, it makes you think he's having fun. he steps to the window, curious like a cat, pretending again: he is playing nonchalance so well. what he fetches from a depression in the wall under the window makes you go wide in the eyes.

Joseon Yoongi is threatening you with his stick.

"did you find time to wonder", he utters, intentionally looking everywhere except at you, as you tense up on the first step, assessing the situation, calculating an escape plan.

"why i keep so lenient with you?"

"love at first sight?" you throw it out there, just in case. Yoongi doesn't seem to hear you. pale stick in his hand, twenty inches long, looks like it's going to break skin even through the dress.

"naturally one would think it's my guilt acting up, my consciousness, for killing your father. so, every time i see you, i am reminded of my cruelty for hanging an almost-innocent man".

you note that now he doesn't mess up the manner of murder. it doesn't matter to him anymore.

"that is, if you were really his daughter".

finally he looks at you. the stick points at you shortly, like he is the teacher and you need to start reciting a poem just about now.

"if you touch me with that, i will bite you", you warn him, "i've had just about enough of your senseless violence, including that time you hung my father".

Yoongi drops the act a little, grinning.

"i'm pretty sure he had a son".

"oh".

there are more things to think about, to ask him. but he motions with his funny stick:

"well, get up".

you plant yourself more firmly into the step.

"you will feel very bad after".

"i will feel peaceful".

your throat betrays you and contracts.

"no", you put a hand in between yourself and him with a finality.

"you're not spanking me with this thing. i mean it", your voice turns serious. it's all really fun, kinda hot, but really. being flogged is very painful. if someone so much as had given you a list of rules of this ridiculous palace, at least. sent you a heads up in excel or something. now you keep breaking the order you have no idea about. next thing you know, it's going to be forbidden to sneeze on full moon and the punishment will be Hoseok shaving your hair off.

"you have a way out, of course", he suggests, "tell me who you really are".

"that won't do either".

you put your hand into the depths of the hanbok. had sewn another secret pocket last night. so that the fans of asking to return the knife can't retreive it from the outward one. blade is pressed to your throat now. you stand up, beginning a small semicircle, moving your feet very little and very slowly.

"i think killing yourself will hurt a little more than this", he murmurs like he isn't the raging psychopath here.

"at least it won't be humiliating".

"humiliation is the only path for you", Yoongi concludes.

"so far you've tried only threats. not a single normal conversation with your Majesty". you press the knife to your neck with no intention of slitting it, it's out of the question with the unfinished throne room. but you feel cornered. moreover, indignation rises in you again: stubborn. you've seemingly run out of aces. Yoongi makes it worse by flicking the stick. he once again somehow cuts the space between you; you're sure he stands too far away to reach, and yet you blink, and the tip of flexible twig burns your hand, and you let go of the blade in reflex. it falls on the floor with a metallic thud as you clutch your ALREADY HURT PALM.

"that's it, bro".

you charge at him. another stinging flick keeps you awake, like you are the tiger now; this stick in his hand works almost invisibly, so quick that you don't see it coming - and maybe you don't need to. squeezing your eyes together, you allow him to flick you again, thinking about only one thing. a great author from twentieth century, known as J.R.R. Tolkien, wrote a story once, about a beautiful and brave elf who never put away his luxuriant long hair. he was a tremendous warrior and a very intelligent being, however his loose hair was eventually his demise. the hair, just like ribbons, has the tendency to adhere to laws of physics even when the bearer seemingly doesn't. it means, when he moves, the long hair stays there for a second yet. another burning slap lands on your shoulder, and you grit your teeth, almost blind with rage. your hand extended, you jump at Yoongi and naturally he avoids you easily, but you do not aim for his ghost-like face. your healthy palm catches the very tip of the horsetail and you form a fist, falling to your knees with pain, and pulling him after you.

a strong hand gets into your hair, too, and you both crash on the floor. your other hand searches around for the damn stick and, miraculously, it's under your palm.

"you fuck-.." you mumble, out of breath. your clutch on his tail is stone-firm, you put all your might into that hold like your life depends on it. at the same time, the room spins: Yoongi's hand slides around your head and lands on your neck. he needs to decide what he wants to do, you think. he either lets go of the stick to unclasp your fingers from his hair. or of your throat. he goes with the first. the twig becomes vacant in your clutch, and you use it on his side, slapping him relentlessly, tugging on the tail, pressed into the floor. his shoulders cover you from the light, your own breath beating in your ears as you hit him repeatedly, releasing the frustration.

he is absolutely silent, his face stays almost unmoving, save for a scary smirk that makes the depths of your guts twirl in an impulse you don't even care to decipher. his knee on your stomach, heavy, knocks the breath out of you. as the stick lands on his ribs, there's a poor chance it does anything at all. the scars on his back that you witnessed today were from a sword, and perhaps that part of his body even has less sensitivity. his hand almost crashes your fist as he first squeezes it, and the pain makes you wanna scream out, but he is choking you. it's all kinds of messy. you release his hair but hold on to the stick, your feet beating but only reaching his legs every other time. Yoongi looks like he's about to smother the life out of you, giving you a direct ticket back home. the grasp of his big palm is so strong that your head starts going numb. you brace yourself, your tongue rolling around your mouth, trying to get a grasp of your mother language. you are way too used to the frustration by now, because death is an enthusiastic and unpredictable companion for a time traveller.

you aren't saved by a palace worker, curious about the noise. or by Jimin who's been hiding like a moth somewhere in the dark corner this whole time. Taehyung doesn't sneeze thunderously in the garden, shifting his attention. the king has mercy on you, his slow, focused eyes search something on your face, they look almost with tenderness, then his hands release you. the weakened left fist and the throat. he even lifts himself up like there's straps attached to his back, and he doesn't need to unbend knees. just stands up smoothly, and you can see the room again, lit by the fire lamps. you roll on your side, throat pulsating, cough stuck in there, the artery fighting for your life. the flogging stick is under you, your little prize that you're clenching onto. sounds like Yoongi picks up his knife and puts it away. then he steps to the wall. you try not to lose him from your field of view, but eyes tear up with exertion and you squeeze them shut to produce a long cough.

"once i get up..." you whisper, coarse, your hand in the air, "it's over for you. you better run".

Yoongi tilts his head forward and looks at his horse tail. studies the tip of it that you'd clutched, with his lower lip stuck out, then retrieves Jiyoung's scissors from the shelf you'd forgotten them on. you cannot believe your eyes. he cuts off several inches where your hand has been, then approaches the lamp and throws the hair in the open fire. it hisses for a second, salivating at his gift. you lift yourself off the floor, your left hand shaking with pain, and sit, then uncurl the fingers to check if they are broken. honestly pain makes it hard to tell. there's also a new red wound on your right palm, and the side starts hurting, but everything is dwarfed by the irrational sensation of sore arousal. it's hard to breathe, feels like the throat is crashed. Yoongi is still busy with his tail, trimming the tips and throwing the small invisible hairs into the fire. finally he graces you with a glance.

"cunt", you croak.

"you sound like one of those lizards you spoke about", his mouth twitches. he is mocking you, chin up, the whole damage he sustained just burned in the lamp behind him. he really isn't won over as easily as the others, huh. he'll be so much work. the other boys just accepted you almost immediately. Seokjin simply went, eh, little sister. Jungkook heard you cheer for him once and went all in. Jimin probably doesn't have a mean bone in his body. Hoseok was like, medium level. Taehyung is up there with Jimin. but this character. this is the mad king. the Agust D emperor. the only thing Yoongi about him is his attachment to his boys, whether he even realizes it or not. you click your tongue, even the roof of your mouth hurts.

"i'm taking a day off tomorrow", you whisper, can't go higher because the voice simply doesn't return.

"take two", he allows, gently, "think about the epithets you're going to use to tell me the whole truth".

"is that what's it about?" you demand huskily. it hurts to speak. you push yourself against the floor and stand up, fixing the hair with the hurt hand. one ribbon is missing from your braids and you look around on the floor for it.

"of course. also, basic respect, but i am growing sceptical about that".

"respect is earned", you mutter, your eyes scanning the wooden floor. hand going through the hair mindlessly. "not demanded. not pulled out like bones through punishment".

"clearly you still haven't got a taste of this century".

your eyes dart to him. ribbon is forgotten. it all gets very clear and very serious very fast. even a portion of your voice returns.

"what did you say?"

"i go very easy on you", he adds, a rumble akin to the fire crackling while eating his 'contaminated' hair.

you skip the last part, still stuck on the century. it's Jimin's work, no doubt. you gently rub your throat in a comforting gesture.

"i can't give you what you want".

it's you begging him to back off. you know he won't. has no reason to. if he were someone else, any other person and not one of the boys, you'd simply laugh it off. stab him in the side.

the subjects who learn the truth are terminated. simple rule number two.

but you know you will get yourself stuck here. you know you want to be here. and you also know the loop cannot be spoken about. you know your time traveller integrity has never been tested like that before.

"you will", he confirms gently. you don't like how understanding he is all of a sudden, so calm. almost smiling. almost the :]. his soft cheeks look kind. you flip him off and he must know it's something rude, even if he doesn't understand the gesture. then you leave the throne room, abandoning the scissors in his hands, the knife, the ribbon somewhere on the floor. you have properly lost this round, you think. limping, hand on the throat. only the pale stick left in your hand. as you leave the palace through the gate, you throw it away with a feeling, cursing under your breath. night birds chirp in the trees and the moon is so close and beautiful, round and clear. you think, if Min-ssi oma so much as approaches your futon in the morning, you're going to put your fist through her old, mean skull.

taglist: @cerulean1riz , @kiki-zb , @mar-lo-pap , @ashyiiy , @enfppuff , @coolpeanutskeletonpersona , @jajabro

[my-rose-tinted-glasses]

Hope you all had a lovely pride month! There are so many shows airing right now and more to come. Some tough decisions will need to be made. But Japan has finally woke up from its slumber and I'm thrilled. As usual, spoilers and opinions below, read at your own risk.

QL - Currently Watching

🇯🇵 Ayaka Is in Love with Hiroko 2nd Stage [1/6] - I like these characters but I’m not crazy about this storyline. 

🇹🇭 Boys in Love [11/12] - I really liked this one until about halfway through but now it feels a bit repetitive, the two young couples just seem to be repeating patterns, which I guess since they’re young it kinda makes sense but it’s boring me now. I wished we had more of the teachers but to be fair I'm glad we have as much as we do.

🇯🇵 Depth of Field [3/6] - Welcome back angsty Japan. How I missed you… I like everything about this show except the length. Only six episodes??? Why must you be this way? I love Hayakawa. The way he puts on those fake smiles wrecks me every time. I wanna know more about Konno, so please Japan, do not let me down and give me the change in POV that you do so well.

🇯🇵 Even Though We're Adults [10/12] - This continues to be such a weird show. I wouldn’t call it a ql, more like a family drama and I can never tell what the characters will do next and what their motivations are. 

🇯🇵I Became the Main Role of a BL Drama S2 [3/6] - I love that I get to see Robin be funny and chaotic. This show continues to be a blast, but I really wish the couple would actually couple.

🇹🇭 Knock Out [8/12] - It’s fine. I don’t wanna rain on anyone’s parade so it’s fine.

🇹🇭 Memoir of Rati [2/12] - This could be such a good show if only gmmtv spent some money and cared about things like historical accuracy and a plot that goes beyond couple moments. Since that's not the case, I'm here for the actors and the scenery. It's all very pretty.

🇹🇭 Reset [5/10] - Armin, you are really pretty but you need to chill. Like, we get it, you have your reasons but be careful that your future this time doesn’t become a self fulfilling prophecy. Ok, so here’s the thing, I love the concept here and lord knows I am shallow enough to watch just for the pretty, but I’m getting increasingly convinced that the reset bit was nothing but the trigger and this is going the way of other high concept thai bls where it doesn’t take its concept seriously enough and instead will focus only on developing the romance and the timey wimey stuff is just flavour.

🇨🇳 Revenged Love [4/24] - Unhinged, everything and everyone. This cannot be overstated. But I am not bored. I am partial to the side couple though. 

🇹🇭 Suntiny [3/10] - I am living for Max in this. He looks incredible. This is just a fun show and I don't expect them to go too deep into the bigger stuff, but the body swap is actually a clever way for our couple to get closer, literally putting them in each other's shoes to understand one another.

🇰🇷 Sweetheart Service [8/12] - It’s cute but ultimately kinda shallow and uneventful.

🇹🇭 The Bangkok Boy [10/12] - Not that there aren't enough of those, but if ever a BL boy needed to kill their father, it's Peace. That man should be taken from the earth. I feel rage emanating from me whenever he's on screen. I love our mains and when they are tender with each other, it's like I can breathe again. But that never lasts long. I need them to be happy. Like really, it's a need at this point.

🇹🇭 The Ex-Morning [5/10] - Not a fan of the fact that they got back together already. It's really hard for me to root for them without knowing what happened. Phi apparently forgave him but I don't have to, not yet. I need an explanation before I'm fully on board.

🇹🇭 The Next Prince [8/12] - What a mess. The show has lost the plot and I am getting increasingly bored by whatever is happening every week. There's too much happening, so threads are dropped and picked up randomly, and I'm losing whatever connection I have with any of it.

🇹🇼 The Promise of the Soul [2/12] - If anyone had told me I would love this one and even be lowkey obsessed with it, I would have called them as bonkers as the premise of this show. And yet, here we are. I adore them an unreasonable amount. And I mean that. There's no reason I should like this show as much as I do, but they are so precious to me already and I am completely ignoring the bonkers bit and just shutting my brain off because they are so freaking cute and I wanna see more of them.

QL - Finished

🇰🇷 Ball Boy Tactics - First four episodes I was ready to put this one next to Semantic Error and Dating Sim as one of the better kblss out there, and then they dropped the ball. The conflicts felt contrived, we never had any insight into Jiwon's internal monologue, and so the resolutions felt rushed. I love them but I don't know if they actually will make it in the long run. I can appreciate the fact that people love a long nc scene, and to be fair, it was beautifully executed on all sides, but in a show with this length those seven minutes could've been used to just make the story a bit tighter. Or you know, let the sides make out. Whichever.

🇹🇼 Fight For You - It was good. It wasn't perfect but it was good. The mains had amazing chemistry and I'm happy I got them happy for a full episode complete with proposals and oh so many kisses. I wish we got a bit more on the sides just because it felt like an afterthought.

🇨🇳 Moon and Dust -  It’s all just so chinese bl. But at least nobody died. Small victories. 

🇹🇭 Sweet Tooth, Good Dentist - A mess all the way through. This show never really knew what it wanted to be and I feel bad we finally got Mark in a main role just to have it wasted here. He did a good job all things considered, but this was very disappointing. Honestly I already forgot most of it.

🇨🇳 Trapped in Osaka - I need them in a full show this instant! I know it was short but the ever-present tension was delicious. They were very good together and broken boys are my weakness, and these two were so beautifully broken.

QL - Dropped / On Hold Will binge when finished - 🇹🇭 My Sweetheart Jom [4/12] 🇹🇭 My Stubborn [6/12]

Non QL - Finished

🇯🇵 Tengu's Kitchen S2 | 🇰🇷 Mercy for None | 🇰🇷One: High School Heroes | 🇰🇷 Oh My Ghost Clients | 🇰🇷 Squid Game S3 Upcoming - July 03/07 - 🇯🇵 Stay By My Side After The Rain MDL | Teaser 05/07 - 🇯🇵 10 things I want to do Before I Turn 40 MDL | Trailer 12/07 - 🇨🇳 Desire MDL | Trailer 13/07 - 🇯🇵 The Proper Way To Write Love Trailer [no eng subs] 14/07 - 🇹🇭 Dating Game MDL | Trailer 18/07 - 🇹🇭 Only You [GL] MDL | Teaser 20/07 - 🇹🇭 Doctor's Mine MDL | Trailer 25/06 - 🇹🇼 Secret Lover MDL | Trailer

That's all for now. Will update if there are more announcements. My inbox is always open. Happy watching!💜

[messerscest]

very sleepy rn but I think Barty's first wet dream was about the nerdy Gryffindor who's covered in scars and always hanging around Regulus' big brother (a few years later he begged Remus to recreate that dream)

-💥

mentions of religious guilt/internalised homophobia, choking, drinking

i had to rewrite this, im so mad but anyways

yes. Absolutely, i love the idea of barty battling every gay feeling he's ever had over remus who just has no idea.

Barty is convinced his life is ruined before it even starts. This hasnt stopped. Its been 5 years and no matter what he does he cannot get rid of that scarred face from his mind.

It started when he was 12, waking up in hot sweat with his cock about to burst with no idea what sex even was, but it felt good and he cried after he came.

The books in the library told him it was normal to see faces he knew in dreams like that, that it was normal, totally normal and it happened to everyone to have wet dreams about people they didnt actually want to have sex with. So it's fine and logical and that was that.

He was 12, and that was fine, but it hasn't changed, he's had sex now, with women, normal teenage boy things and yet every dream, every session under the blankets with his hand he sees that stupid scarred face and crooked smile.

So Barty does the reasonable thing, he has a lot of sex and drinks alot. He has sex all the time even though it doesnt really do it for him, sure cumming is a relief and he has the libido for it so he does it but the real reason is to stop the face that haunts his dreams.

And drinking? every weekend, every party, every excuse that comes, barty takes.

Which leads us to now, where barty has drank way too much and he's wandering the halls for a place to smoke.

He totally didnt know remus was on prefect duty patrols and he totally didnt mean to run into him- he's drunk remember?

so when he sees that stupid face he lays it out. Yelling at remus that he's ruining everything and that he fucking hates him because he wants to be normal and fuck his fist without thinking of him and then he's cut off-?

he's cut off by remus kissing him, remus is kissing him and tasting the alcohol on his tongue and inhaling the smoke from the drag he took last.

They split, and barty is conflicted. He's never been so hard in his life, but he also just kissed a boy.

Remus doesn't let his mind wander too much because remus has him against the wall,

and his hands are around his neck and he cant breathe and oh my god he might cum.

He cant stop speaking between harsh breaths, telling remus that he thinks he's gay and he needs remus to fuck him before he goes mad he needs this.

He needs it so bad that he helps remus take his trousers off even with his hands shaking as air returns to him.

Remus fucks him right there, his head against the concrete wall and his cock leaking onto the floor where his trousers are bunched at his ankles

neither of them strip properly, focused on nothing but having remus inside barty

They fuck like animals, remus keeps his grip around bartys neck, pulling him back with every thrust and barty sobs on it. He sobs because hes so full and this might be the heaven he was promised.

He cums, hard, his legs give in until remus is just holding him up and using him, which makes barty dizzy with how hot that is.

Remus cums inside and helps him sit on the floor.

A promise of writing whenever he wants round 2 murmered into his hair with the farewell kiss remus leaves there.

[sweetiiami-writes]

Phighting! Agere Req 💕 Caretaker Subspace

💕💕 Subspace may be a bit OOC has he's meant to be evil in canon... He's not a good role model and would definitely hurt his little!!

Sweetii's Notes:

Reader is an age regressor that regresses, the HCs range from babyspace regression to teenspace regression! Just defaulting to littlespace regression as there is no specification for age range.

Please note I am still learning about agere and may write it incorrectly!

This is not sexual or romantic; this is purely platonic.

💕☁️💕☁️💕

He's scared for you.

He doesn't know how to say it, and even if he found the words for it, he'd never admit it outright. But the thought of you being put in danger by him or his Biografts drives him nuts. He has no idea why, even if he should be focusing on his experiments.

He already had a suspicion, what with you carrying a warm opaque bottle to work and feeling giddy after drinking it. He always thought it was whiskey, so while you were gone, he took a quick swig. Imagine his surprise when he realises you were drinking warm milk.

He decided, as an experiment, to give you a blanket while you were sleeping at your station. He wrapped it around you, sneering and chuckling obnoxiously to himself. And you didn't seem embarrassed, unaware that he was next to you, observing your behaviour.

He took note of the way you relaxed underneath the blanket, mumbling words like how a sleepy baby would. Suddenly, he was conflicted. You looked vulnerable, weak. He hated that. He hated weak things like you because they made him go soft on the inside.

He had intended to carry you back inside, but due to his rot, he knew he couldn't, so he decided to wake you up instead.

“ Get up!! Come on, you stupid… Ugh… You stupidly adorable… Stupid!! Just!! Get up!! You're sleeping in the cold snow, it's not scientifically healthy!! Get the hell inside!! ”

Compared to most Blackrockians, he's openly protective of you but also very strict with you. Rules have been set when he decided to become your caretaker.

1: Rules are meant to be followed, any orders that do not come from Subspace T. Mine (or Papa) are to be disregarded or reported to him! 2: Mealtimes are strictly at 6 a.m., 9 a.m., 12 p.m., 3 p.m., and 6 p.m. If mealtimes have been missed, tell Subspace when you want to eat and why you missed the original mealtime. 3: Clothes will be provided by Subspace T. Mine for protection in the laboratory. 4: Do not touch anything if you are regressed and in the laboratory unless you are supervised by the Biografts or Subspace T. Mine himself. 5: If you need help, just ask. Subspace T. Mine will do his best to assist you.

Any rules set would change with events, but for now, it worked for Subspace.

He would never yell at you if you threw fits. Sure, he'll get visibly stressed and frustrated, and he'll even call you mean names… But after a bit, he'll hug you tightly, cradling you in his arms.

What the hell, you already had to bear the most painful childhood burden�� Why was he adding to it with his insults?

Instead of yelling at you or verbally abusing you, he'll cup your face and nuzzle his nose against your forehead, with his voice uncharacteristically soft.

“ I'm sorry for yelling at you, snowball. Hey, if it makes you feel better, I'm making some warm milk later. Eh? Eh? Eey, that's what I'm talking about!! Subspace T. Mine never fails to cheer you up, no? Awh, I'm such a good dad!! Come on, let me make it up to you!! "

He prepares your meals beforehand, as he's always busy with experiments and whatnot, so he can't get his chemical-stained hands on your food. He makes the Biografts babysit you, and worries over every small report.

But he likes hearing you call and tell him about your day. To be honest, it makes his day a thousand times brighter than the crystal ever could. Hearing you babble on and on about what the Biografts did and what you read, it makes him smile beneath the mask he wears.

He's also made some small inventions to make your life easier. If you can't walk, no problem! He's got you some robotic limbs that kinda work like Doctor Octopus' robot limbs. If that's too hard, he's just got a small cart that the Biograft can push you in.

Speaking of, he likes to push you around in that cart and go speeding. Sure, it's reckless, but if it makes you laugh, he'll do it. (He also laughs with you!)

He's played dress up with you before!! It's only because he's got an immaculate fashion sense, and boy, does it show with your fluffy outfits! Hey, he wants to look good, but he can't risk either of you falling sick, now, can he?

“ That's it!! Now, give Papa a little twirl…!! YES!!!! That's a lovely little model we got right here, chief!! Augh, I really am the best!! Look at you, snowball!! You're Papa's little diva, ain't you?? ”

No hugs and praise in public, but SFOTH, if he doesn't do it incessantly at home. He'll forget you have boundaries until you cry out, telling him he's hugging too tightly or you're not in the mood. He'll chuckle and apologise, but go right to cooking or doing anything else for you.

He may be the top scientist of Blackrock. He may be the best to ever exist in the scientific realm, but when it comes to you, he's stumbling and making mistakes.

But you're worth making mistakes for; otherwise, why would he be taking care of you?

[aelistgroupofficial]

⋆༺☾ 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐌. 𝐀. 𝐑.’𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐌 🎞️ !

ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀʀᴇ ꜱᴏɴɢꜱ ᴏɴʟʏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ꜱɪɴɢ　|　ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀᴍᴇʀᴀꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ʟᴏᴏᴋɪɴɢ, ꜱᴍɪʟᴇ!　|　ʙᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜʀ ɢɪʀʟꜱ & ʜᴀᴠᴇ ꜰᴜɴ

🎬 CAMERA IS ROLLING　.　.　.

　you find a film roll in your ÆLIST debut album. luckily, you know how to develop one. along with it is a piece of paper, signed by one of the members, a QR code printed. 　curious, you scan it, and you get taken to the official website. a video pops up. you press play.

　　　.　.　.　LOADING　.　.　.

　“Are we starting? Wait! I need to mark what page I'm on! And get a sip of water... can you pass my bottle please? Oh! And my glasses as well!"

　　　.　.　.　PLEASE HOLD　.　.　.

　“Hi CAMEO! If you're seeing this, congratulations! YOU FOUND THE SECRET PRIZE. This is a small get to know me about yours truly, ÆLIST's MAEVE! Maeve is a stage name. My real name is hidden for personal reasons. I was born on JANUARY 14, 2002 in MANILA, PHILIPPINES. I moved to the USA when I was 12, and eventually found myself loving to perform. 　My tita, or well, aunt, recommended me to our label due to my talents. After months of trials I secured a spot in ÆLIST, becoming the leader and a part of the vocal line. I love my girls, and our fans. 　A speed round of facts about me; you’ll always catch me reading. I have horrendous eyesight. I don’t like heels. I have a few tattoos. I want to get more piercings. I’ve been singing since I was a kid. I like to collect useless things. 　That’s all! Thank you for the lovely Cameo who received this!"

📸 M. A. R.'S PUBLIC SOCIALS　.　.　.

IG : maevsroll　|　I post a lot about food, random pictures from practice, and the books I'm currently reading. 　 WV : maevieee　|　This is where I do random updates with the Cameos. I do spontaneous lives, and just vibe with them. 　 TT : M. A. R. 　|　Apart from the official ÆLIST account, my personal account has a collection of videos from practice, fun trends, and videos of me reacting to the things I read. Although, some of the fans speculate I have a secret account somewhere in the web.

𓆰𓆪 MAEVE'S EMBLEMS　.　.　.

THE MOON　☾　To the fans, it was clear Maeve was the moon coded girl out of the group, and they weren't wrong. Maeve has always been caught to do streams at horrible times, ignoring the sleep she needed. BUTTERFLIES　༊·˚　Maeve had mentioned how she had a couple tattoos. One of the more visible ones is a butterfly behind her ear. SKULLPANDAS　❣　In her room, Maeve has a collection of Skullpandas she's shown during lives. When doing fan meetings, Cameos give her Skullpandas she hasn't gotten. A lot of the cameos have also said her style in the group and in general matches with SP. BLACK CAT　𓃠　Maeve has a pet cat named Meona, so of course Cameos resonate black cats with her. BOOKS　🕮　When travelling, sometimes fans catch wind of the girls in airports or just exploring the city. A lot of Maeve's candid photos are of her reading a book while sitting down in public.

[staylovesmiley]

Smiley’s 1k Event~

As a thank you for hitting 1k followers I am opening an event~ this event will be open from now until Monday, July 7th at midnight EST. However, I do wanna give the disclaimer that I have a full time job and so it may take me a second to get to them all but I will try my best to be speedy!!

Rules: My regular request rules apply as always~ in addition, any requests sent in for this event after the cut off time will be deleted.

How this works is you will send me a message in my ask box with the emojis for which member(s) you would like the request to be for, what you want the relationship status of reader and the member(s) to be, and what you wish for the overall vibe of the request to be (keep in mind when making your request though as some of the prompts may be difficult to execute with some of the vibes and could take longer as more complicated requests will be pushed to the back of the line) as well as the number corresponding to what prompt you would like! For example: “🐶 🤞🏻➡️🫶🏻 💕 17”

Member: 🐺:Chan 🐰: Leeknow 🐖🐇: Changbin 🥟: Hyunjin 🐿️: Han 🐥: Felix 🐶: Seungmin 🦊: I.N

Status: 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨: established relationship🤞🏻➡️🫶🏻: friends to lovers 💍: married ⛓️‍💥: exes 👤: strangers

Vibe: 💕: fluff ❤️‍🔥: suggestive 💔: angst

1 • hey! is this y/n from the club last night?

2 • wait right there, i'm on my way

3 • sorry, who is this?

4 • so... last night was fun.

5 • can i come over?

6 • we need to talk.

7 • it's honestly insane how much i love you.

8 • please don't say i told you so...

9 • you know how you totally adore me?

10 • please don't shut me out. i can tell when something's bothering you.

11 • can you come pick me up please?

12 • this date is a total disaster, can you call me with a fake emergency?

13 • why have you been acting so weird lately?

14 • i got arrested and it's a hilarious story but i really need you to come bail me out first.

15 • what the hell happened last night?

16 • i got a code red situation.

17 • so... the drunk voicemails i left you last night... you totally listened to them, didn't you.

[faiztheap]

CRASH inspired bot drop !!

▸ track 1: crash - art, tashi, & patrick

where stanford graduates plan to end the year with a bang, and you somehow get thrown into the clutches of stanford's very own golden trio.

▸ track 2: new shapes - tashi duncan

where tashi's knee has been ruined in a moment, and you have to reassure her that you will always love her, no matter the shape that she's in.

▸ track 3: good ones - art and patrick

where you run to patrick after every time art breaks up with you, but are caught in the middle of them both during a movie night in their dorm.

▸ track 4: constant repeat - patrick zweig

where patrick runs back to you after completely ghosting you, refusing to open up about his history with his old friend, much to your dismay.

▸ track 5: beg for you - tashi duncan

where your coach seems to be doing things that seem a little more than purely professional, but you both go along with it for your practice.

▸ track 6: move me - art donaldson

where your best friend comes in to check on you during a rough patch when the seasons start to change, but you're too blind to see how much he wants you.

▸ track 7: baby - patrick zweig

where your classmate that's always tried to win you over stands up to your ex for you when you're in an argument and lets you cry on his shoulder.

▸ track 8: lightning - tashi duncan (wlw)

where you kiss the girl from church and feel horrible about it, shutting yourself away from her until she comes to your window, true romantic movie style.

▸ track 9: every rule - patrick zweig

where you have an affair with a head detective from upstairs, and it isn't long before gossip spreads and hr calls you in for a meeting regarding these rumours.

▸ track 10: yuck - art donaldson

where you find that art's warm and affectionate personality has rubbed off on you, someone who isn't so open with their affection, and you say 'i love you'.

▸ track 11: used to know me - tashi duncan

where you see your old college fling at the bar whilst you're celebrating both your birthday and your divorce, and you can feel her eyes on you from a mile away.

▸ track 12: twice - art and patrick

where you're all graduating from the academy, and the feeling that you may never see them again starts to settle deep in your bones, the three of you a tangle of limbs on art's bed.

DELUXE TRACKS:

▸ track 13: selfish girl - tashi duncan (wlw)

where the two of you can never define what you are, needing an outlet for your fast paced lives, but the lines become muddled when tashi comes to see you after your show.

▸ track 14: how can i not know what i need right now -

patrick zweig

where a drunk patrick finds himself in a jazz bar in atlanta, talking the bartender's ear off, but you can't find it in yourself to turn the man away, giving him an ear to listen.

▸ track 15: sorry if i hurt you - art donaldson (m4f)

where you go out to a bar one night without telling him, and all of a sudden art donaldson seems reduced to a bundle of nerves, tears welling in his eyes when you come home.

▸ track 16: what you think of me - art donaldson (m4f)

where your old bassist and ex shows up to one of your gigs— wearing your new band's merchandise, mind you— to wish you well, but old feelings begin to rise and you suddenly don't want him to go.

sneak peeks: track 1. track 2. track 3. track 4. track 5. track 6. track 7. track 8. track 9. track 10. track 11. track 12. track 13. track 14. track 15. track 16.

taglist: @iamaya03 @sweetestfaiszts @nozhdyved @fawnique @hayleygrrr @elsieblogs @iheartrosalia click here to be added !!

a/n: okay i did it like an hour early I COULDN'T HELP IT!!! all bots are gender neutral unless stated otherwise!! i hope that you enjoy them as much as i loved writing them!! thank you to everyone who supported me during this process!! mwah!! 💋💋💋