#maybe????? or maybe not???? do you see it or am i Crazy

[jov1ii]

Home.

♡⃕.pairing: The Salesman x Reader

♡⃕.summary: The man you had known for way before, before he 'ruined' your life, the one you were so determined to find, pays you a visit.

♡⃕.word count: 1.5k+

♡⃕.a/n: This is my first time writing a "proper" fic and it did NOT turn out the way I wanted it to but ig we all start somewhere. I hope yall like it, thank you!! 😭 [not proofread]

Being the only surviour of what you considered no less than hell on earth, you should have been content, no? How could you be? After witnessing the death of so many people, people who you promised you would enjoy life with after escaping that game.

Call it greed, call it madness, whatever it was, it had people blinded in those games.

One would call you crazy if they saw how determined you were to put an end to the games you had played and survived.

Being already considered half crazy, if not a total gone case by your friends, you found it hard to even believe yourself at times. If it wasn't for the giant stack of money in the corner of your store room, maybe even Lei would have not trusted you.

There you were, sighing in defeat, another day spent, trying to search for the man who ruined your life by a game as stupid as ddajki. Fucking ddajki.

Throwing your phone over at the couch, you sat down next to Lei. With your face hidden now in the curve of your palms, you pondered upon the number of days left, the number of days which still remained unticked on the calendar.

You could not find it in yourself to give up so easily, no. You had been trying for years now, it was as if your life had a purpose.

"Did they find him?" Lei asked, placing a comforting hand on your back. She rubbed your back gently, wishing to offer you comfort. You remained quiet, allowing her to soothe you.

After a pause, you rested your head on her shoulder, seeking more of the warmth she was offering. "I... I am tired, Lei. I am so fucking tired."

Lei closed her eyes for a brief moment, allowing you to let your emotions flow as she pulled you into a hug. "It will be okay, all is well."

ㅤㅤ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ㅤ ㅤ‎⎯‎⎯‎⎯‎ㅤ🎟

͏

Drinking had never really been your thing and yet you found yourself standing right beside Lei, watching as she ordered drinks for the two of you.

"You come here often?" You ask, your wandering gaze landing back at her. Lei simply shrugged, offering you a smile. "Is three times a week often?" She chuckled.

As the hours passed and the two of you made your way out of the bar after spending an undoubtedly wholesome evening, you could not help but ponder upon the cold, almost commanding look that Lei offered to the bartender at one point.

The games had made you too paranoid, they had forced you to pay unwanted attention and overthink every little thing that happened around you. After seeing the countless betrayals before your very own eyes, who could blame you for behaving like that?

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Lei's voice brought you back to reality. "Oh... It's nothing." You said, looking back at her.

"It has to be something if it had you so deep in your thoughts, what is it?" Lei asked, demanding an answer.

"I said it's nothing. Come on, it is getting late, keep moving, Lei." You said, patting the skirt of your dress, refusing to meet her gaze.

"You do not trust me, do you?"

Oh. Your eyes finally met hers.

"Lei— what are you..."

Lei chuckled, shaking her head. "I love how easy it is to get you so... anxious. Of course I know you trust me, silly!" She laughed. "I earned it, didn't I?" After a brief pause, she added, "Let's get going, hm? It's getting late."

You nodded, moving ahead to look for a taxi for the two of you, blissfully unaware of the cold pair of eyes that stalked each and ever step you took.

ㅤㅤ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ㅤㅤ‎⎯‎⎯‎⎯‎ㅤ🎟

If there was one good thing remaining in your life, it would be night outs like these with Lei. They would usually end with Lei pulling dumb moves, flirting with strangers, enjoying her life and you would be lying to yourself if you said you didn't crave the life she has.

A life free from guilt, a life full of excitement and will to see and experience what the next day had to offer.

After looking at the numerous selfies sent by the people you had hired in hopes that at least one of them would succeed in catching the man that had plagued your thoughts, you could not help but groan in frustration.

Another fruitless search. You threw your phone away, closing your eyes as you thought of how your life used to be before all this happened.

A part of you hated yourself for yearning his touch, his caress. You had known for way longer than you would like to admit, he was kind, loving... or perhaps you were a fool.

It was funny how you still remembered each and every night when he took you to his home, when he fed you and held you in his arms when you cried about how bad your life was getting.

You trusted him with everything. Told him about how you managed to get all your hard earned money stolen by your own boyfriend. Sometimes felt like he knew you better than you knew yourself.

You trusted him when he told you to play a game of ddajki with him. You trusted him when he told you to give that number a call.

And now here you were, alive. With all the blood money in your pocket. You wish you had died there. You knew that he wished you had died too. You knew he was scared to meet you or so you liked to believed.

You knew that once you managed to get catch him, you would not let him leave without giving you any answers.

ㅤㅤ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ㅤㅤ‎⎯‎⎯‎⎯‎ㅤ ㅤ 🎟

"Why so silent, hm?"

Your throat felt as if it had closed when you saw him in your apartment, staring at the calendar.

"Missed me, angel?"

He chuckled, turning around. His cold, calculating eyes found your scared ones.

"Weren't you dying to meet me?" He asked, taking a step in your direction.

"I feel a bit— hm desired, knowing that the first thing my sweet girl thought of was searching for me instead of just letting her little brain rest a bit."

He laughed. "Most people would have taken the money and started a new life but here you are, still stuck. Typical." He said, offering a rather phoney smile.

"You expected me to move on?" You cry, feeling a sting in your throat.

"Oh please, save your tears." He said, his voice taking an irritated turn.

"Is this all a joke to you?! I trusted you— I trusted you so fucking much! You ruined my life!" You yelled.

"You agreed to play them. You called that number willingly."

"I was helpless and in need of money, you knew it! I had no idea of what I was getting into!" You yelled.

He didn't flinch, his face showed no emotion. As if her words had no effect on him. "Why do you still yearn for me, after all that happens, hm? I can see it in your fucking eyes." He spat out, taking a few long strides in your direction.

"You think I haven't been watching you?" He laughed hysterically. "Searching for me like your life depended on it..." He paused, tugging you closer as he pressed his forehead against yours. "So unaware of how I never left. "

His words irritated you. You hated how his words still had effect over you— after all that happened.

"You don't know anything." You whispered, your hands clenching into a tight fist and before you knew it, your hand was out to punch him, to take your frustration out.

"Ah, ah." In a sudden motion, he reaches out and grabs your wrist, his grip unyielding "Don't you think I deserve a better welcome?" He pouted.

"Let go, you bastard!" You yell and his hold around you tightens, enjoying your futile efforts futile struggle. "That stubborn spirit... it just makes me want to break you more." His voice drops dangerously low. "But don't worry, angel - I have ways of..." He pauses, staring into her eyes.

He leans down to whisper in your ear, his warm breath ghosting across your skin. "...ways of making you beg for more." His free hand trails down your side, maintaining the pressure that keeps you trapped.

"I wonder how long it'll take for you to accept this as your new reality... As your new normal." He smiles to himself, a cold, calculating smile, before leaning down to capture your lips in a possessive kiss.

Before you could comprehend any of this properly, he was already making his way out of your apartment.

Leaving you once again, with just the warmth of his touch.

[godmadeaterribleerror]

Making Me Crazy

Main Masterlist

Read on A03!

Tags: Soldier Boy/Supe!Female Reader, the tiniest amount of fluff, just pure, raw smut (fingering, oral f!receiving, p in v sex, overstimulation, thigh riding)

Title from Cola by Lana Del Ray.

Summary/Warnings: Request from @little-wicked10! Ben overhears you doubting his generosity in bed, and immediately sets out to prove you wrong.

Author's Note: Top ten horniest things I've ever written. Enjoy!

Word Count: 2.5k

Supes should be required to announce their presence whenever they walk within earshot of other people. If they were, you wouldn’t have snapped at Butcher that, for the last time, you were not sleeping with Ben. You wouldn’t have scowled and hissed that maybe you made come fuck me raw eyes at him, and maybe you liked him as more than a semi-reformed—you’ll call it about 70%, which was a passing grade—supe teammate, but you weren’t going to fuck him, because he was probably selfish in bed, and your lack of self-worth did not extend to falling to your knees only to get nothing in return.

But Ben hadn’t shouted a warning that he could hear you, and now you were gaping at him—standing at the foot of your bed with a cocky smirk—and trying to find a way out of this. Figure out whatever lie you could tell him that would make him just shrug off what he’d heard and walk away.

You weren’t really confident you’d find one. 

“We’ve, ah, we’ve been over this, Ben. I’m not having sex with you-“

“Not now.” He waves you off with firm words that shouldn’t be settling that deep in your core. “But you will.”

You narrow your eyes. “You’re awfully confident given I just said no-“

“But you’re going to say yes,” Ben drawls your name, lowering himself down to hold your gaze. “Because I am not a fucking pussy who can’t get a woman off. And I’m going to get you off, over and over until you’re fucking screaming for more, until you’re so fucking cockdrunk you only know my name.”

“Ben-“

He smirks. “Good, you’re already starting-“

“Shut up.” You snap, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “I’m not fucking you just because you say you’ll get me off, or so you can proved some sort of point-“

“I don’t have fucking shit to prove.” He shrugs. “And I would get you off, baby. Christ, I’m doing you a damn favor-“

That makes you laugh. “It is not a favor to have sex with me. I could go downstairs, flash my tits at Butcher, and even his ass would jump on me-“

“Butcher couldn’t handle you.” Ben snaps, and you’re suddenly very away of how he’s towering over you, how he’s broad and muscular, how big his hands are, how soft his hair looks, how there’s a bulge in his pants that has to be padded to look bigger-

You swallow, forcing your eyes to his focused, darkened, almost dizzyingly lustful ones. “Ben-“

“I could handle you.” He smirks at you, leaning down until his nose bumps yours, and you can smell his cologne and the whiskey on his breath and something heavier that’s musky and heady and might just be him. “I could fucking ruin you, doll. Make you never want another cock again.”

“Oh.” He must have slipped you something earlier, or there must be a gas leak, because there’s no other explanation for why you nod, lean forward a little further, a little cautiously, and whisper an agreement against his lips. “Okay.”

Then Ben crashes into you, tangling broad fingers in your hair and kissing you with a bruising force that makes your head spin, and you know exactly why you agreed. For this. For Ben, and a chance to taste if he was really that good.

And goddamn him, he was. He was better than good. He was a demanding tongue down your throat and firm hands pulling and rubbing at this skin of your hips and waist. He was a massive, warm body lowering over yours and forcing you to crawl backwards on the mattress. 

He was a fucking sex god, and you feel like you’d just committed the worst sin of all. You’d doubted him. And—as his knee shoves between your thighs and you start to see spots when his kiss only deepens—you know you’re about to repent. 

And when Ben rips off your shirt and bra in one brutal movement, kisses a sloppy line over your jaw, down your neck, and right to your breasts—kneading with one hand as he pulls your nipple into his mouth—you decide that whatever he demands, you’ll offer. This is already mind-numbing pleasure, and if the only relief he’s offered you is grinding against him and his mouth swallowing every whining moan, you’ll take it.

Then he moves his leg away, chuckles at your needy sound from the loss, and you know he’s onto you. That he’s got you bent to his will. 

“Don’t lose your mind yet,” he mutters against your skin, nipping at your breast. “We’ve got a damn long way to go before you can afford that.”

“I’m not, fuck-“

You cut yourself off with a gasp as Ben tears off your pants, teases two fingers over the wet spot on your panties, and shoves them aside to expose your bare pussy to the air. 

“You’re fucking wet, doll.” He rises back to your face, kissing and sucking all over your face but your lips, where you’re gaping and gasping his name. “All of this for me?”

“It’s- Ben-“

Your voice turns to a squeak as he spanks your cunt once, running three fingers over your folds as the sting fades to pleasure.

“And don’t fucking think about lying.” He hisses in your ear. “I’ll know.”

You swallow, your voice soft and hoarse. “It’s for you.”

“You think I’m fucking hot?” Ben shoves one finger into your pussy, grunting as you squeeze around him. “Fuck, baby, you want me to make you feel good? Want me to prove to you how fucking wrong you were?”

“God, yes.” You squeeze your eyes shut, arching your back as Ben adds a second finger and begins to pump. “Ben, fuck me, please-“

“Tell me what you want, doll.” He picks up his pace, scissoring and crooking his fingers deep inside you until you’re writhing below him. “Say it, say you want my cock-“

Ben rubs right against that spongey place inside you, dangling over the edge of what you need—what you might die without—and you moan. “Fuck, I want your cock, Ben, I want it so bad-“

“Good girl.” He mutters against your skin, his teeth grazing right at a sensitive spot behind your ear. “But you’re still going to need to fucking earn it.”

You have a brief moment of lucidity where you realize what he’s said, and your eyes fly open. “What the fuck do you mean, I have to- Ben!”

He starts to fingerfuck you at a rapid, almost frantic speed that’s made of lewd sounds, desperate, breathy pleas escaping your lips, and a quickly growing bomb of fire in your gut that’s set to burst so soon-

“Cum of my fingers, doll, fucking soak my hand-“

You scream as the bomb goes off, and you’re overwhelmed with your orgasm. It floods your body and launches you into space, higher, higher, and when you fall easily back down to earth you realize Ben hasn’t stopped. His pace has increased to furious, and you’re already on the edge again. You’d be embarrassed by how quickly you came apart for him—how wrong you were—if Ben was slowing down.

But he’s not. He’s dragging you closer and closer to vaulting back into blinding release, and it’s right on the edge of pain and pleasure. It’s too much, and it’s not enough, and God, you just want him to fuck you-

“Ben,” you gasp, grabbing pointlessly at his wrist. “Fuck, I need you, need you so bad-“

He pulls your lower lip between his teeth, his fingers bending and pressing right against that spongy spot inside of you, and this orgasm is only more powerful. You can barely hear his low, growled promise right in your ear.

“Fucking earn it.”

When you regain your head, your pussy is clenching and fluttering against nothing and strong hands are gripping your waist, maneuvering you with no effort at all. And when your vision returns from a hazy blur, Ben’s below you. Holding you on his lap, your legs tight around his thigh.

You stare at him with wide eyes, and he chuckles, rolling your hips with a firm grip as he starts to bite and suck along your collarbone.

“Fuck yourself on my thigh, baby.” He growls, licking right up your throat like a fucking animal, drawing a high whimper from your lips. “Make yourself cum like the dirty little cockslut you are-“

You start to grind on him like he’s flipped a switch in your body. You’re overwhelmed with orgasms, and your cunt is sensitive and raw, but fuck that’s nothing compared to the sheer want for Ben in your body.

So you throw your all into it. Soaking his jeans with your needy cunt, grabbing at his shirt until he tears it off for you to scratch uselessly at his chest. Fuck, you even put on a show for him. Wiggling and rolling your body in his hold, watching him through lidded eyes, diving to kiss at his neck and drifting a hand down to touch that huge cock, straining in his pants-

“Fuck-“ Ben yanks your hand away, his voice stern and low, and you whine. “I’m not fucking done with you, doll, you need to fucking control yourself-“

You just moan, tugging at his hair in a silent please, and his face falls into one that might be—if you didn’t know better—awe.

“Christ,” he mutters your name, running a rough hand up your back to grip at your throat. “You need to my permission to cum, babydoll?”

Babydoll. That does things to you that you’re past trying to hide.

You’re past trying to hide most everything.

You nod, making a choked plea that’s meant to be Ben, but comes out high and feral, and Ben smirks, gripping your hips until you’re sure he’ll leave a mark.

But his words are low on your skin, and his dick is pressed right on your clit, and God, you hope he marks you. Maybe then you’ll feel like this forever.

“Cum,” Ben growls your name in your ear, and there it is. You scream as you reach another, higher state of euphoria, and you’re so close to just exploding when Ben hauls you up his chest and tosses you down onto your back, rising onto his knees and lowering his face between your thighs.

You don’t get warning when he shoves his face right into your cunt and starts to eat you out like he’s never eaten anything before. Like you’re the sweetest fruit or candy, or saltiest and most carefully crafted meal, or just straight fucking heroin into his bloodstream. He goes down on your with his whole fucking face, pulling your raw, swollen clit between his lips before flicking it with his tongue until you’re a whining frenzy, keeping your thighs split open with his hands and barely flinching as you start to buck and fly off the bed, the orgasms falling through you like rain. One hand even sneaks between your legs, and Ben focuses his sinful mouth on your over-attended clit as his fingers plunge back into your cunt, and you destroy yourself on his everything.

You must have squirted somewhere in there, because when Ben finally rises up his beard is shining with your arousal. 

But it might also just be that. This might just be so fucking good, Ben might be so good, that you could flood a desert with how much you need him inside you right now. Really, properly inside you-

Ben must read your mind, because he smirks at you, prowls over your loose and fucked-out body, and drags you into a long, slow, shockingly soft kiss that makes you sigh into his throat, his hand rubbing a comfortingly patten on your waist.

“You’re being such a good girl,” He says your name against your lips, and you think that alone sends another small, shuddering orgasm through your body. “Good girls deserve some cock.”

You make the most needy, lustful noise you’ve ever made in your life, gasp slightly as Ben rises over your body, and scream when his cock slams into your dripping, aching cunt without warning.

“God-“

“I’m not God, babydoll.” Ben’s words are spoken against your lips with a smug satisfaction, and you almost blackout as he rolls his hips. “I’m fucking better. Hold on.”

You obey blindly—spun out and faded on how he’s splitting you open, filling you up more than you’ve ever been filled—and wrap your arms around his neck as he starts to fuck you. 

This is heaven. God, you hate how right he was, but you might be ascending. You were already ruined from his hands and mouth, and this is being razed. Fucking decimated. This is Ben’s cock hitting spots inside of you that you didn’t know existed, and his hands grabbing and pulling at your tits, his balls slapping against your skin and his mouth leaving little marks wherever he can reach skin, his fucking fingers rolling your nipples and his thumb rubbing on your raw clit until your mouth falls open, and you cum without sound.

He doesn’t stop. You’re drooling, making high, gasping moans of his name, and completely wrecked under him, but Ben doesn’t slow down. He’s grunting and groaning in your ear, chasing his own release deep into your pussy, and you want him to have it.

He’s really fucking earned it. Especially as his thrusts start to stutter and the bed starts to shake in a way that makes you think it might break, and the low, primal noises that leave him as he comes inside you drag one last, smaller orgasm from deep in your core.

He’s going to brag. When Ben pulls out, you’re sure he’s about to mock and taunt you about being right, but he just sets you down carefully between the sheets, walks into the bathroom, and returns with a damp, warm cloth to clean up the mess he left between your thighs. 

Then he looks up at you, and now he’s going to grow cruel. To keep dirty talking or fucking you until you’re in a daze you don’t know how to return from, when you just want to rest. Or maybe he’ll just leave you to deal with the soreness of your pussy and throbbing on your skin from all his biting and sucking, and you’ll never speak of this again.

But he doesn’t do either of those things. Ben’s eyes meet yours, still guarded but not hardened, where you can see deeper into him, and he’s a little more human in there. Like you’d worshipped and repented, and now you get your true reward.

And this is it. Green eyes meet yours, he blinks at you with a frown—like he doesn’t understand what he’s looking at—and then crawls back over you. Ben settles at your side, and your body against his own warm, solid, one. He doesn’t speak, but he touches you carefully, like you might break, and it’s louder.

And you might have had a few other things about him wrong as well.

Because Ben doesn’t move through the night, and you wake up still in his arms.

End Note: Found a way to make it emotional too. Am I even me if I don't?

If you like this story, please reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3

Taglist

@sthefferrete @lyarr24 @deansbbyx @bakugotypecrashout @foolinthera1n

@globetrotter28 @lordofthunderthr @youdontknowe @nyrtopia @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing

@panicking-outside-the-disco @ambiguous-avery @elle14-blog1 @impala67rollingthroughtown @dumb--blonde

@heyimolive @alwaystiredandconfused @kamisobsessed @generalmoonpolice @foxyjwls007

@ackles010378

[stxrslutrestored]

love him back 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚

starring; gg!rafe cameron x gossipsweetheart!reader

synopsis; being caught by gossip girl forces you and rafe to have a very hard conversation about what you actually are, and when talking doesn’t work, there’s really only one other option

content;  fighting, oral (f receiving)

authors note; first gg blurb! super exited to debut this au

you can’t believe it. you can’t believe gossip girl caught you. you’d been so careful to make sure nobody else knew that you and rafe were back together again. but all it had took was one stupid stupid drunk night out and a quickie in the car to reveal everything. 

rafe is on his way, he’d told you as much in a rushed text message fifteen minutes ago which means he’s here any second. 

anxiety rises in your chest. because as well as the embarrassment and humiliation the post that this godforsaken website has made is going to force you and rafe to face the question that both of you have been avoiding for the past few weeks of meaningless sex. 

do you love each other again? 

you hear him walking through the house and up to your room. he doesn’t bother to knock before entering your room. 

his face is hard and angry, in contrast to yours which is streaked with tears and snot. he sighs when he sees you, coming up and standing over you where you’re sitting on your bed.

you look up to him, “why are you so angry,” you ask sadly, “It’s not like I sent the tip.” 

he looks up, “I’m not angry at you.” he shakes his head, “I’m angry at this… this whole thing.” he throws his phone to the bed where it’s open on gossip girls page. 

you sniffle, “if you hadn’t insisted on having sex in the car—” you start, but he cuts you off. 

“no. no don’t you fuckin’ pin this on me.” he points to his chest, “I only insisted on fucking you because you were.. were leaning me on all night.” 

you scoff through tears, hands falling to your lap, “leading you on? you think I’m leading you on?” you shake your head, “you’re unbelievable rafe!” 

you stand up, coming a little closer to him, he takes one step back. “am I? am I unbelievable?” he raises his voice “because this whole fucking time I’m here trying to guess what the fuck you’re thinking I— I mean do you actually wanna be with me? huh? or is this just… just some sex to you?” 

you shake your head, “like you care,” you shake your head, “like you’ve ever put any effort into our relationship!”

he grasps your arms and pulls you close, “you were the one who broke up with me. I had nothing to do with that.” 

“ever stopped to think about why I broke up with you? rafe you’re crazy.” you gesture to him as you make the accusation and he scoffs. 

“crazy. yeah maybe i am crazy.” he looks up and sighs, “maybe it’s you that makes me crazy.” he looks back at you, and there’s something else in his eyes now. it’s small, just an inkling of sadness, pleading. so barely noticeable, but you know rafe well enough to see it crystal clear. 

you look down, and then back up at him, your own gaze changing. there’s a moment of tangible silence but then rafe steps forwards, gripping your hips and pulling you up, immediately locking lips with you in a kiss. a kiss full of passion that you think you’ve never felt from him. 

you kiss back, hands coming to wrap around his neck. you let out a small moan and he returns one. you’re stumbling backwards towards the bed, feelings of anger and aggression suddenly replaced with intense erotic passion. 

the backs of your legs hit the bed and you fall onto your back, rafe bends over with you, not breaking the kiss. his hands start to run down your body, first your chest, then your torso, and then his hands are on your hips, pushing up the skirt of your nightdress. 

his fingers hook your panites, pulling them down so that your  pussy is bare and ready for him and whatever he plans to do. he pulls away finally, breathing heavily, “c’mon,” he breathes, whispering your name, “say it.” he tells you, “tell me you love me. love me back.” 

you look up to him, eyes wide and full of that infatuation that you’ve been trying so hard to deny. in this moment you just can’t say no, and so you say those three words instead. “I love you rafe.” it feels like the most natural sentence you’ve ever said, yet it surprises both you and rafe when it actually comes out your mouth.

the shock only lasts for a second though, before you know it, rafe’s head is dipping back down and kissing on your neck, big, open mouthed kisses that leave you breathless. with learned skill he begins to lower down your body. 

first he spends minutes on your chest, skilling and licking and sucking marks into and in between your boobs. then he goes down even more. hands running down over your night dress as he kneels down beside the bed, making his head level with your pussy in between your now spread legs. 

“fuck youre soaked,” he brehates out. you’re looking up to the ceiling but you can tell exactly what expression is on his face. cheeks flushed and lips parted, hair all messy in that way that makes him ten times hotter. 

first he starts to touch your pussy, his hands pushing through your folds like it’s the first time he’s ever touched you. it’s slow and gentle and careful, in such contrast to the way that rafe normally treats you. 

then he’s leaning forward and he’s eating you out, licking through your folds with an open mouth and sucking on your clit. rafe doesn’t eat you out much, barely ever actually, but when he does it feels so good!

you moan, hands coming down to tangle in his hair while he pleasures you. you moan out, “oh rafe!” you cry, “I love you! I love you so much!” you throw your head back as you experience this. even though he doesn’t say the words, you know that rafe has the same sentiment. that this is his way of telling you that he loves you. 

he loves you and you love him. there’s no doubt about it. despite the rocky road that you and rafe have been on and the complete denial of any feelings for months, it’s all come to a front now that that silly little internet post has forced you to face your feelings. this is it, you can love him back. 

[thewertsearch]

GG: Does this have to do with your crazy pen pal project? GT: It most certainly does and time is of the essence! GT: Today is the day i have to finish it and send it. Not a day later!

So Kid Bro was also contributing to Project Tyler. He's a Bladekind specialist, so maybe he's the one who sourced the Royal Deringer for her arsenal.

I have no idea how he'd get his hands on such a powerful sword, especially outside of Sburb - but this is still Bro, after all. He's impossible.

GG: This would be the birthday present… for your grandmother? GT: No! GT: It is for your grandfather simply to be relayed to him by my grandmother. A joint gift to him from she and i.

Jake knows that the bunny's meant for John, but it's hard to tell if he knows which John he's sending it to. He might not even know that there are multiple Johns in the equation.

GT: I am sending the gift back in time to when they are both alive and about our age. GT: Or… GT: Something like that. Something funny is going on here that i have not fully grappled yet but dag nab it if im not gonna see it through.

Asked and answered. Jake English has no idea that he's an old man's reincarnation, and he sincerely believes that his pen-pal is a girl from the early 1920s. I was about to argue that Jade must have demonstrated some awareness of modern culture during their correspondence, but Skaia probably just told her to hide it.

Anyway, Jake can tell that something's not right about this situation - but without knowledge of the Scratch, it's basically impossible for him to arrive at the correct conclusion. He's stumped.

GT: Look jane i know youve never believed me and you think everything i say is some big cockamamie goofoff but i think today of all days is when you should start taking some things more seriously. GT: Especially since i have always had your back. I have always believed in you! GG: Hey! I have believed in you too. GG: However, believing somebody isn't the same thing as believing IN somebody.

Jane, for her part, doesn’t seem to know anything. Crockercorp have successfully kept her in a Sburbless bubble, and have her doubting all testimony to the contrary.

I'm sure the Condesce has made sure that none of her friends can provide tangible proof of what's really going on, ensuring that Jane is isolated, out of the loop, and unable to trust her loved ones. There’s a wedge driven between her and her co-Players that may widen further, if the right pressure is applied.

GG: But that much said… GG: I think that maybe I am getting ready to believe some of the wild stories I've heard? [...] GG: I had a really wild dream last night. GG: And you were in it.

But there's nothing they can do to contain her Dream Self.

Today is the day that Jane wakes up.

GT: What was i doing there? GG: Um… GG: Not a heck of a lot!

...unlike Jake, apparently.

It's a little strange that he's less connected to Prospit(?), despite being far more immersed in Sburblore than his friend.

[swappermanent]

The Freeloader

I think Brian resents me a little bit sometimes. I can see it in the way he sighs when he gets home and finds the mess I’ve made. Or how he mutters under his breath when he has to clean up after me. It’s the little things, you know? The unspoken tension of living with someone who doesn’t quite pull their weight.

After all, I am a freeloader. I stay in his apartment rent-free, eat food I didn’t buy, and, let’s face it, I don’t exactly contribute to the household chores. The dishes? Never done them. Laundry? Forget it. I’ve even been known to, uh, occasionally puke on the floor and not clean it up. Not my proudest moments.

Brian’s patience is admirable, really. He’s a good guy, but I get it—dealing with me isn’t always easy.

Maybe I should give you a bit more context. Because I’m starting to sound like the world’s worst roommate.

I’m Oscar. And I’m a border collie.

Yeah, that’s right. A dog. Brian adopted me as a puppy about five years ago. Back then, I was just a tiny ball of fur, all wobbly legs and oversized ears. I don’t remember much about that first day, but I do remember Brian’s face. He looked so happy, like he’d just won the lottery or something.

“Hey there, little guy,” he’d said, crouching down to meet me. His voice was warm, and his hand smelled like leather and soap. “You’re coming home with me.”

I’d wagged my tail so hard I nearly tipped over.

Brian named me Oscar because, according to him, I “looked like an Oscar.” I still have no idea what that means. Is it a compliment? An insult? A random name pulled out of thin air? Who knows. Humans are weird.

Speaking of weird things—Brian decided to do something truly odd last week. And when I say odd, I mean completely unhinged.

It started with him bursting through the door, practically tripping over his own feet. In his hand was a small package wrapped in plain brown paper. His face was lit up with this manic excitement, like he’d just discovered the secret to immortality or something.

“Oscar!” he said, grinning like a lunatic. “You’re not gonna believe this.”

I tilted my head, ears perked, doing my best What now, human? expression. He tore the package open with the enthusiasm of a kid on Christmas morning. Inside was… well, I didn’t know what it was. It looked like a gadget from one of those sci-fi shows he loves—small, sleek, covered in blinking lights and wires.

He knelt down to my level, holding the device out like it was a sacred relic. “Okay, bud. This is going to sound crazy, but hear me out. We’re about to do something revolutionary.”

I barked once, a sharp, skeptical sound.

He laughed. “Don’t look at me like that. You’re gonna love it.” He held the device up and fiddled with some buttons. “This little beauty here? It’s going to let us switch places. You’re going to become me, and I’m going to become you.”

I froze. Did he just say…? No. No way. He couldn’t mean—

Brian must’ve noticed my horrified expression because he quickly added, “Don’t worry, it’ll be quick. Totally painless!” He paused and then muttered, “Well, mostly painless.”

I barked again, this time louder, more insistent. Brian, what are you doing?

“Relax, Oscar.” He ruffled my fur absentmindedly and pulled a folded letter from his pocket, tossing it onto the table. “That’ll explain everything. You can read it later.”

Read it? I thought, incredulously. I’m a dog, Brian. I can’t—oh. Oh no.

Before I could react, he strapped one end of the device to my head and the other to his own. The straps were snug, and the metal pressed against my fur uncomfortably. I started barking frantically, thrashing to shake it off, but Brian was determined.

“It’s going to be fine,” he said, his voice oddly calm. “Just trust me.”

Trust him? He was about to Frankenstein us into a science experiment! I tried to pull away, but then he pressed a button, and everything went white.

An electric shock surged through my body, like a lightning bolt exploding inside me. I yelped—no, I screamed. The world around me blurred and twisted, the sounds of Brian’s voice and my barking melting into a chaotic whirlwind.

When the light finally faded, I gasped for air, my chest heaving. Something was wrong. Very, very wrong. My limbs felt strange—too long, too heavy. I looked down and nearly fainted. Hands. I had hands. Fingers. Thumbs. I touched my face and felt smooth skin where there should have been fur.

I stumbled to my feet—human feet—and looked around. My gaze fell on Brian—or rather, what used to be Brian. Now, sitting where he’d been moments ago, was a dog. Not a border collie like I’d been, but a scruffy-looking mutt with wiry fur and floppy ears.

He was barking like mad, pacing in frantic circles.

“Brian?” I croaked. My voice was strange—deep and raspy. I slapped a hand over my mouth, shocked at the sound.

Brian—Dog Brian—stopped barking and stared at me. His tail wagged hesitantly, and then he barked again, as if to say, What the hell just happened?

I turned back to the table and grabbed the letter with trembling hands. It was addressed to me—well, to “Oscar.”

With a shaky breath, I unfolded it and began to read.

I unfolded the letter and started to read, my new hands shaking slightly.

"Dear Oscar,

I know this is going to sound crazy, but if you’re reading this, then everything worked (kind of, I hope). First, I need to explain something. I’ve been burning the candle at both ends for the past year. Two jobs, skyrocketing rent, inflation—I’m barely keeping my head above water. It has been rough, man.

I haven’t had a break in so long, and I’m… I’m tired, Oscar. Really tired. I thought about taking a vacation, but that’s impossible when you’re me. Then I found this device online—don’t ask me where. It promised a way to swap places. I thought, hey, why not?

So, here’s the deal: I need you to step into my shoes for a few weeks. Go to work for me, handle the apartment, just… keep things running while I take a much-needed break as a dog. You’ll get to experience life as a human, which has to be interesting for you, right? Win-win!

If something goes wrong or you decide you really don’t want to do this, you’ll have to wait 24 hours before the device can be used again to switch us back.

Thanks for being my best friend, Oscar. I know you’ve got this.

—Brian”

I stared at the letter, my new heart pounding. Then, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror. Staring back at me was a man—a tall, broad-shouldered, salt-and-pepper-bearded man.

My mind reeled. Brian had clearly thought I’d end up in his body, but that wasn’t what had happened at all. Instead, I was in some completely different human form. And judging by the frantic barking from Dog Brian, this was as much of a shock to him as it was to me.

“Brian!” I said, my voice deep and gravelly. He stopped barking and tilted his head, his floppy ears twitching. “This isn’t what you planned, is it?”

He let out a series of short, high-pitched barks, spinning in a circle. I had no idea what he was trying to say, but his agitation was clear.

I sighed, leaning heavily against the table. “I guess we’re stuck like this for at least a little bit now.”

I turned my attention to back myself in the mirror. My new self. Slowly, I held up my hands, turning them over to examine the calloused palms and long fingers. They were strong and well-defined. My arms were muscular, the veins faintly visible under the skin. I ran a hand over my face, feeling the thick beard and the sharp line of my jaw. My hair was thick, dark with streaks of gray at the temples.

I took a step closer, staring in disbelief. “I… I’m hot?” The words slipped out before I could stop them. “Holy crap, I didn’t realize humans could look like this.”

Brian—er, Dog Brian—let out a loud, sharp bark, clearly unimpressed with my self-discovery. He pawed at the ground and then sat, glaring at me with the kind of judgment only a dog—or a former human—could muster.

“Don’t look at me like that,” I said, grinning despite myself. “This is your fault, you know. If you’d done your research, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. Brian had always been kind of short and pudgy, with a perpetual look of exhaustion. But this body? This was something else. I was tall, lean, and athletic, with strong hands and long legs. And the beard? Come on. I looked older than Brian—probably because five in dog years is, what, thirty-five in human years? But it suited me.

I flexed my arms experimentally. “I guess being an athletic and handsome dog translates into being an athletic and handsome human,” I said with a smirk.

Brian barked again, this time a low, annoyed growl.

“Relax,” I said, ruffling his wiry fur. “It’s only 24 hours. We’ll figure this out. In the meantime…” I glanced around the apartment, taking in the cluttered mess of dishes, laundry, and takeout boxes. “Looks like I’ve got some time to kill. Maybe I’ll clean up a little. You know, since I’ve got thumbs now.”

Then, I felt a stirring in my groin and thought to myself, "or maybe there's a better use for these hands in the meantime."

[frownyalfred]

Okay, but since Bruce is the Prince of Arkham, whats stopping his kids from being in there with him?

Dick was the angry robin, and he got in this bisness to avenge his parents + the people who killed his parents where training him. I can see him murdering whoever he gets placed with in foster care. Like, as a pattern.

If CPS is as corrupt as the police in gotham, then chances are the'd be bribed to keep putting him with people who want to further dicks training, and Dick would keep lashing out at the people who are helping his parents murderer.

Jayson clearly has the potential to be a murderer and run a crime ring, so i say he'd be tossed in arkham for sociopathic tendencies and potentially running a gang of crime-commiting children who have held down rapists and castrated them.

Tim WANTS to be thrown in Arkham because he is dying to know more about Bruce, so he shows his parents/ lets them find pictures of the crime scenes Bruce and Jason and Dick made and he forces his way into the family.

Steph gets thrown in for running arround in a purple costume, "making up stories" about her dad and trying to bring him to justice

Cass because she "refuses to" speak to the officers that catch her.

Damian gets thrown in because he was found looking for his dad, insisting that bruce was his dad and that he would free him, and the general league of assasins weirdness that they trained into him.

Babs visits them because her dad can't bear to go, she gives him updates about bruce and the little gremlins.

Honerable mention to duke bc I dont know enough about him to say why he'd be yeeted in, but he's there! (Maybe something about him seeing ultraviolet colors and adults claiming that hes crazy because they dont know he's a meta?)

Each one of them escape the childrens ward (built specifically for them) at one point and find Bruce and decide to imprint on him because he gives off "i am both a mother and a father" vibes

Oh god yeah they’re in there with him, aren’t they? They’re the reason he stays, after a while. He protects them from the inside the way he can’t from outside. He uses them for rumors and information collecting and everything in between. They view him as a twisted savior, and love forcing him into admitting he cares, even from afar.

(a guard tries to touch 17 year old Dick one night, weeks into Arkham gen pop for the first time; the guard is dead by morning, and Bruce doesn’t even blink when Dick tells him, over a chess game in the cafeteria. Bruce doesn’t ask him if he’s okay, he asks him what will you do to prove it to the others? and Dick leans back and says it? That it won’t happen again. You won’t let it happen again)

[evoscancelled]

📣PLEASE LISTEN!!!!📣

I have a request

Okay so like Maddie Nolen ponytail orgin. Imagine reader always wears her hair (preferably longer than maddie's) in a ponytail and one day decided to put one in Maddie's hair and reader was gushing over how cute she thought it was and how it was like a bobcat tail. Maddie started wearing a ponytail ever since, just because her girlfriend loved it so much

Pretty please 🙏

of course anon!

men dni!

maddie nolan x reader

content: AFAB/fem!reader, fluff, reader is mentioned to have longer hair (hair type NOT mentioned), reader is briefly mentioned to be taller than maddie but not by much, established relationship, mentions of wanting to marry her

characters: maddie nolan

synopsis: waking up next to maddie and then getting ready in the morning, when reader wants to give her girlfriend a ponytail in her hair.

writers note: such a cute idea! I love her fuckass ponytail I NEED HER. I love women with accents.

—

maddie nolan x reader fluff

—

—

waking up next to maddie was so sweet, the way she clung to you, the way she nuzzled her face into the crook of ur neck. the little sounds she’d make was adorable, little moans and groans from the early and groggy morning feeling. she was practically ontop of you with her leg over your hip.

she is not a morning person, she doesn’t like the way that even if she is so comfortable, in her little hibernation, she’d have to leave your warmth each morning. she hated it.

when the alarm would go off, she’d groan, trying to stop it as fast as she can so you wouldn’t wake up— five more minutes was all she wanted. rolling back over into your arms as her eyes fluttered closed, squeezing you tightly

“mmmh…” you grumble, “goodmorning..”

you kiss her on her forehead and run your fingers through her hair, so soft, so pure.

“morning, love.” she kisses you back, but on your cheek.

“I can’t believe it’s time to wake up already, yeah?”

“I don’t wanna get up..” you smile, “few more minutes?”

“mmmmmmmmmh… let me think… yes.”

you giggle to eachother, getting comfortable once again and wrapping your arms around one another.

———————————————————————————

finally out of bed, you two brush your teeth next to eachother, chatting about what to pick up for breakfast on the way to work.

“love, you want tacobell for breakfast? that’s a lot for first thing in the morning, don’tcha think?”

“starbucks? they have good coffee— obviously, and they have some good sandwiches.”

you stand tall behind her, slouching down to put your head on her shoulder as you look at her in the mirror, wrapping your arms around her waist.

“starbucks sounds good. mhm!” she turns around and reaches up to put her arms around your neck

“your gonna make us late, aren’t you?”

“maybe, if I get lucky?”

she giggles at that, kissing your neck and then turning back around to continue her morning skincare routine.

“awh, dangit.”

you brush through your hair, grabbing a hair tie to put your hair in a ponytail,

“why don’t you ever do anything different with your hair, mads?”

“well I don’t have as much hair as you do, im not sure what I’d do with it anyway,”

“here, let me see.”

you stand behind her once again, gathering her hair back into a small little ponytail, giggling and kissing the skin on the back of her neck.

“now atleast some of it is out of your face?”

she looks in the mirror back at it not quite sure how to feel about it yet until you—

“ur so cute!!” you hold her face with both of your hands

“it’s like a little bobcat tail!!”

and with that she blushes, deciding that’s how she’d wear her hair for the rest of forever.

“now we’re matching, aren’t we?”

“ur like one of those crazy ginger cats.”

“I am not!” she giggled, guys her accent I can’t she’s so wife

“if that’s what you’d like to think, babes.” you give her a peck and get dressed into your work clothes as she does the same

she was so adorable with her new hairstyle, the way it was tied back, how soft it was, how pretty she looked with it, her natural color complimenting her skin tone.

god you loved her— no matter what ambessa says you don’t give a fuck if you are in a relationship with somebody you work with— you were marrying her.

“I think I like it, yeah?”

you pick her up, holding her by her hips while she wraps her legs around you,

“you sure are pretty.”

“you are so flirty this morning.”

“that a bad thing?”

“mm-mm, I like it.”

“yeah?”

————

01/12/25

@canontypicalgoblins — I hope you like it!

[voidwizardwholikestheshadows]

I’ve decided I want to say something. I’m going to try to see things equally as I talk about it but I will acknowledge my bias toward Tommy. He is and has been a favorite creator of mine and I want people to know that I acknowledge that I might say bias things and to take that into account.

I watched Dream’s stream three times. Once when Dream streamed, Kwite’s stream and Tubbo’s stream. I also would like to acknowledge that they both tried to give him the benefit of the doubt many times and Kwite and Tubbo tried to reach out to him. Also my apologies if I miss anything important in the stream, please just let me know if any of what I say is incorrect.

Firstly and foremost, I will say that Tommy should have backed down with the pedo jokes or stopped altogether. It just doesn’t look good, I’m sorry. I have watched Dream’s “The Truth” video before and tried to look into it myself and I honestly don’t believe that those allegations are true.

I will say that I am not in any way, shape or form okay with telling someone to kill themselves. It’s just not who I am and I don’t like how widespread of a thing that is nowadays. I understand other Tommy fans are upset but god fucking damn it that’s not okay to do toward anyone. I made this post earlier but leave Techno’s name out of this. I am absolutely disgusted by the fans that made “Dream SA” comments toward his fans and how he was going to SA them. It’s gross and you don’t look like a good person.

I have my grievances with Tommy fans but that’s not what I wanna say right now. I didn’t like when Dream was making any sort of sexual remark toward any of the minors. Like in this stream with Tubbo’s sister around 39:55 to 40:02, he made a weird joke about her respawning in Vik’s house. Idk if anyone else cares but that made me uncomfy personally, there was no need to say that. Or this Dream and Tommy interaction, maybe this isn’t as much of a big deal, they were friends and Tommy joked about it but it made me uncomfortable. I would like to specify again that these are my personal grievances with Dream. Or when Tommy joined the server for the first time and Dream and George had him do the crafting table bit which was a reference to sex, that was not cool, Tommy was 16, a minor, it just doesn’t feel okay to me at all. Also he had no clue what the joke was, he did what they asked him to do. Those are my main examples of that.

Also Dream skipping over all the important criticisms that Tubbo was giving him only to act shocked at not having context. It kind of irked me, I don’t know if it was done on purpose or not but either way, Tubbo reacted to the whole thing and Dream couldn’t be asked to do the same, slightly disappointing.

His statement on Aimsey really made me upset. Calling them a mastermind when they only tried to support their friend was a very odd choice. I have no knowledge on the George drama if anyone does please let me know.

Saying people hated him for playing a villain character on the Dsmp is kinda crazy. I believe that most fans can differentiate reality from fiction. No, I don’t think that’s why people dislike you Dream, when watching Tubbo’s stream he mentioned that Dream seemed to skip over the important bits of their phone call to focus on the smallest thing. Whether that was done on purpose or not is just not cool. If he wants people to form their own opinions and look into the facts themselves, at the very least give everyone the full facts.

Dream’s mention of the nsfw artwork posted in the discord in the early days of the SMP… I honestly don’t care what anyone else has to say on this point, it is his server and his responsibility to make sure the minors in the server are safe and not exposed to anything. Showing or allowing minors to see nsfw shit is a Crime. I’m sorry to say but that’s a fucking crime. I know Dream didn’t show it but if Tubbo was uncomfortable, it’s his job to make sure that stops. If nobody else was going to be the responsible adult, it’s his discord server and his Minecraft server, he should have some say if not have all the say in keeping minors safe. Even if they asked to be treated like adults which Tubbo doesn’t remember saying at all, YOU DONT TREAT MINORS LIKE ADULTS IN THAT WAY, THAT IS A CRIME.

And at the heart of it all. The R slur. Reclaiming a slur is for deweaponizing the slur. You can Not reclaim a slur by using it against a group of people, that’s the opposite of reclaiming, that’s just using the slur as a slur. I am not down for ANYONE using slurs they can’t reclaim or are weaponizing it. I am not for people calling Dream slurs when all that went down, it’s not okay. I will agree with Tubbo that his drama did kinda outgrow the MCYT community. Different communities have different tolerances on what can and can not be said, I don’t agree with it but that’s the truth. If there were a lot of people in the MCYT community throwing slurs around, I personally don’t want them here. Using slurs if you are weaponizing it is not fucking okay.

These are my personal opinions and thoughts and why I dislike Dream. I’m sorry if this upsets anyone, etc, etc. I might edit this later if I think of anything else.

[mono-dot-jpeg]

born from another timeline - jayce, viktor

summary; "viktor, wake up, hexcore just dropped a hot person" - jayce, probably

genre/extra tags; oneshot, fluff, comedy, maybe some angst, is this considered isekai /j, amnesia?, zauntie! reader, different timeline! reader, the almost too good to be to be true timeline, hexcore knows everything, magic curses, can be seen as romantic or platonic, half baked ending, im sorry this can seen as ambiguous ending

word count; 1.3k

a/n; it's time for some silly silly writing. im changing up some of the request to be a little more interesting. im not great at interpreting long requests like this bc they can be a lot for me, and sometimes, with requesting in excitement, they can have some parts that dont make sense. but i still hope it's enjoyable. also i have no idea if my addition to this request made sense but i was too committed so. enjoy :)

you don't remember a fucking thing. all you know is that something called a hexcore spit you out, and now you're floating in the air with two really hot people. and you're undoubtedly panicking, and they're panicking too.

generally, a lot of panic.

when you finally manage to stop floating, the situation settles a little bit. at least for the two men that were floating with you.

"how did you get here?" but unfortunately, you had to be questioned. which was reasonable, you would probably do the same.

a yordle creature is trying to question you and your origins, but your mind can't seem to conjure up anything that would be a viable answer. "i.. don't know. but where exactly am i?"

the yordle, heimerdinger, informs you that you are in piltover and introduce you to viktor and jayce as well.

"piltover.. i definitely didn't know that this was piltover because i've never been around there."

"do you remember anything about your home?"

"not much. but i'm from the undercity." you answer. and that leaves the young scientists to ponder why exactly the hexcore brought you here. was it really that powerful to just teleport people from the undercity to piltover?

nothing seemed to be clicking. and so, they decide to escort you back to the dark lanes of the undercity.

but when you reach the bridge, viktor can spot the shine of confusion in your eyes.

"wait.. this is the undercity, right?" you looked over at the glum streets. "but.."

"but what? it always has been like this."

"this isn't.." you head pulses with pain as a memory tries to break through. "the undercity wasn't like this. it was-" before you can even speak about your home, it feels like you have the wind knocked out of you. your breath heaving as you cough near uncontrollably. jayce and viktor are quick to offer a hand to help you. jayce holds you steady, and viktor offers a hesitant but gentle hand. "it wasn't like this.." you can only mutter as another cough tickles your throat, threatening to come out. it doesn't take long for the two men to come up with a different thought instead.

"i don't think you're from our world." viktor said slowly.

"but i'm from runeterra, i live in zaun, i know that much." you get a little defensive. "and i know that, this isn't the zaun i live in."

"i think it's much more different than what v is saying. let's just head back."

viktor should've realized sooner as a zaunite himself. you didn't wear any worn-out dirtied clothing or had that scent of undercity smoke and gasoline that always permeated around the lanes. you were different from the undercity he knew.

with enough convincing to heimerdinger, he agrees to let you stay in piltover, but viktor and jayce would have to be responsible for you. which admittedly feels a little offending as you're not any kind of irresponsible pet or kid, but you wave off the annoyance for a more pressing problem.

"i'm from a different timeline?"

"it sounds crazy, i know." jayce immediately tells you, just seeing the incredulous look on your face. "but it seems like the most logical conclusion. you said you were from runeterra, you were from the undercity, and that the undercity you know doesn't look the way our undercity does."

"it could be entirely possible that you can even be from a different universe in general, ehh... i suppose that would be like a timeline, too." viktor sucked in a breath through his slightly clenched teeth as he tried to wonder over the details of what counted as a universe or timeline.

"the point is, this isn't the runeterra you know. and we don't know how to get you back."

and so you basically had a reset button on your life, now living in a world that was close to yours.. but not quite.

heimerdinger had concluded that there was some sort of magic binding on your memories, not allowing you to speak too much detail of them. and there seemed to be no loopholes for it. you would be stuck like that for an unknown amount of time.

that was concerning, to say the least. but not as concerning as trying to remember that this isn't the world you know. you're not meant to be here. but you'd be lying if you said that you weren't curious about how this world functioned compared to yours.

you were naturally really interested in the hextech. and it seemed like the hexcore was interested in you, it spit you out into here after all.

"do you think the hexcore is the reason i can't talk about my home?" you asked the two scientists as you stared at the core of magic and science.

"it would make sense. in a way. it's the only magic you've been exposed to. and directly in contact with.. obviously." viktor said with matter of fact tone.

it seemed like it was the only somewhat reasonable answer. and there was only one solution to you; live this new life. you don't remember everything that happened in your old life, and even if you did, you'd be coughing up your lungs before you can get a word out about it.

alternate reality and timelines really aren't fun, you realize quickly. you live in this.. new piltover and zaun and it's.. really off-putting. like knowing that everything is fine, but your mind is telling you that there's something just so wrong.

your identity blends in just enough with the support of viktor and jayce. but you don't feel right. viktor easily can sense that feeling of isolation. he understands it too well. it's the face he's seen on multiple zaunites like himself. when they don't know if they really belong in this world.

he tugs you away into his side of the lab as the gentle whirring of the hexcore hums with life, mocking you that you have no way home. jayce had left to pick up some dinner for you three, and you stayed behind for the sole reason of not having anything better to do (and maybe even keep viktor company).

the look in his sharp amber eyes is hesitant before he speaks. "how are you feeling?" he asked within the ambiance of the lab. he doesn't look at you, turning to mindlessly fiddle with his work-in-progress hex claw.

you shrugged halfheartedly with a hum, "i don't know. it just..." you let out a sigh. "it doesn't feel right."

"what doesn't?"

"being here." he lets you continue if you want, stopping his tinkering to look at you. your eyebrows furrow with a frown on your lips. "i don't know. maybe i'm just being delusional."

he pursues his lips, trying to find the right words to say. "i'm sorry we can't find a way back to your home." he said softly. "i can't imagine how it feels like to live in a world so similar but so different from home." he takes your wrist gently to guide you to an empty chair next to him.

you sit down slowly. he looks at your disheartened face.

"i'm not great at comfort like this. jayce would probably do much better than me right now. he gives a great hug." he laughed weakly, trying to lighten the mood. "but i'm not going to sit back and let you be alone on the pain." his eyes swirl with warmth. you can tell he's trying his best to comfort you.

"do you think.. we would ever meet back in my timeline?"

before viktor could answer, the door opens, revealing the golden boy himself.

"i got us some dinner!" his smile oblivious and bright, unware of the heavy air as his presence seems more bright than the setting sun.

you don't feel like you belong in plitover, but you know you belong with viktor and jayce at least.

[biancadoes1]

I just have some thoughts I want to share and maybe some of you can give you opinions/inputs as well.

So you know how many of us (this is also my belief) that Nicola being sooo private with her personal life (that includes her family and love life) — her actions and willingness to be pictured and seen with Jake everytime is so unlike her (if that’s really her boyfriend). She has been private ever since… she always always use her ig to post her work and friends (but never her family or love life - you never see her greeting her siblings or mom when it’s their bdays). What irks me is when I read comments like “maybe she changed! People can change. Maybe she doesn’t want to be private anymore and she’s more famous now.”

But think of it this way… Nicola always uses her socials for work, advocacies, and the occasional posts with friends… she’s that way ever since because she wants to highlight her work more than her personal life. Why would she suddenly change it and do a 180? I think with what happened with the whole Jake thing was unexpected to her and she just got tired of correcting the narrative and she’s not that bothered anymore to be seen with him because they’re just really friends.

Now I do have a theory (maybe it will be far fetched for some so I apologize in advance. Lol): but what if she’s just letting the “Jake and her are dating” narrative to float around because she’s protecting her REAL and PRIVATE relationship?

Now, to be just fair and to just cover all bases… let’s say that her real and private relationship is not Luke (but I am hoping that they’re together because I am still a Lukola) and it could be another man that we don’t know… ultimately, what I am trying to say is she could probably be dating a whole different man (other than Luke), but I am confident that it’s not and will never be Jake. Lol

If I am proven, so be it. If they’re together and she’s happy… great for her! But I will not be a fangirl of their relationship like those crazy Jakolas in your asks. lol 😂

The idea of her using the Jake narrative to protect her real and private relationship is not at all far fetched because I think this is what she's doing.

She's using this to her advantage.

[auset66]

PSYCHIC READING 🔮

If you feel called out from this picture or anything numbers or just feel like yes it does have my message. Go on. (No it's not tarot I am doing it just on my intuition.) 🌸🪻

Yes? Go on sweetie your personal message Is just below this. 👇

First I want you guys to hang tight cause for some it could be all for some it could be just one or here there. It is going to be a bit messy so please understand. Please let me know if it resonated. 🪽

A wish a dream of yours I see is comming true. Very soon very unexpected way. You even forget about it yourself. And you won't even notice it yes, you will realize it after Some time. Like oh yeah I remember I cried over it to stars year ago or so. I almost forgot.

Purple and crown Chakra. Meditation at 444 frequency anything maybe at this time will help.

God I might sound complete crazy but whatever here it is if you feel like something supernatural wanting to connect to you. Well this is the confirmation. Yes you are not on oh my god honey I am getting tingles. Amethyst, mountainy regions, fog, rain, lake, flowing water, you felt it.. it was real. You want to get clear picture? Try free writing or something or oh my god see what you are writing about these days? What type of character? The song? Just whatever it is. Or what are you drawing? When you are like absentminded typish. The clarity about it is there.

What recent series or manga or anime got you hooked? It has answers to your carrer path. Like the struggle, the relevance, how the character overcame it. Not maybe necessarily the same carrer but similarish problems.

Your cup of coffee. Try switching. Seriously what is even this? Oh. Yes if there is someone you are bonded over coffee or you know this one particular thing or person you associate with coffee. Yes. Time to switch. Yes. Yes.

Talk. Extend. Family. Friend. A cousin who or a friend or even your own sibling. Someone who you still close too offcourse but haven't talked with for quite some time. Talk to them. They very very very clearly need a safe support system. You. Go and talk. Not small talks or chats. Meet and get the tea. Something very major is going on and your advice is important.

Greece. Venice. Artic? Switzerland? is calling you. If you have been planning to go. Finally take the trip. Don't postpone it thinking again And again some other time some other time.

If a certain god/goddess is calling. It is new yes I am way too very sure. Something foreign to you. It could like you seeing them a lot on Pinterest or you just know. You would know instantly. Read and understand about that God/goddess. The life story and all the mythologies. Understand it on psychological level on material level. Like what it could mean and how and everything. Well just let yourself be know about it. The path further Will open. You will know yourself what to make of it.

Skipping parts? Don't? Make it known oh my god. Guys. (88) and yes. Okay. So in workplace or whatever. Well don't hide yourself. Let everyone know what you did. And what is your work. Who are you. Don't hide. Shine. And reclaim your original work. Don't let people (16:16) steal away your work, your ideas your, your limelight. Let everyone know your truth your originality.

Crazy tubelight? Just lock loose? Neighbours. Beware of your surroundings. Especially if you live alone. Look around and be aware of what is going on around you. Who is around you. Online too be aware. Don't overshare unless you are completely sure.

Unexpected turn. No in 6 months. I am so so very sure. Whatever you think impossible now. Yes Something totally absurd totally unexpectedly totally not really shocking but yes very unexpected that you can't even think of is going to happen. Just really trust me this. Especially if you are wearing something like with red dots on white or white dots on red typish dress or something anything. Even a bow red.

These are so random I literally don't know what I just wrote and why I wrote it. Let me guys know if you liked this type of reading?

Good bye and take care. And take those meds please. Your family doesn't hate you sweetie. Live and laugh. Bye-bye 💕💕🪻

[misfits-in-motion]

pluck my strings

(ray toro x reader)

☾ — not proofread, not word counted, this is RAW everyone. first public story in years. crazy guys. trying to keep it gender neutral for my folks but,,, i am but a molar — ☾

summary: you're a guitarist coming into the 2000s emo scene. much like many others, you have just a basic knowledge of guitar. thus, feeling a little bold, you contact your friend with the most knowledge. and,,, yeah, maybe you just wanted an excuse to see him. when you finally do make it to the studio, you can't help but let your mind wander. can anyone blame you? he's just so close....

tw?: uhhhhmm not that i can think of. sliiiiight smut if you squint. really just suggestive and tense.

☾-☾-☾

⠀Your band had come in with a fever. One second, you were working job to job, trying to desperately cram your hobbies into your free time whilst also managing friendships and your ever-crumbling dating life. Then, one half-slurred, half-mumbled, half-thought hangout idea spewed by one of your close friends led to this moment. You had a show in exactly two weeks, and still only knew maybe five or so chords. Sure, you could switch between them pretty fast and come up with decent riffs and progressions, but nothing that would sound like more than a dead kennedys knock off on stage.

⠀While my chemical romance was making their way up the ranks, they still held you and your band in close regard. You and the guys had been tight since early 2002, and you even witnessed a lot of bullets being made. which, to say the least, showed off their talents. Out of the bunch, you tended to lean toward Ray for a number of reasons. He was quiet, but not terribly quiet. Quiet outwardly, but not in an introverted sense. Ray just reserved his words for when they mattered. You could appreciate that, along with his utterly charming smile, insanely good taste in movies, appreciation for music, among other things.

⠀It seemed everyone but Ray knew you had a total thing for him. Even when you called him up in the middle of your friend's mom's house, they snickered and made obscene gestures toward you deserving of a middle finger from hell, that of which you gave to them in full.

⠀Now, standing outside the recording studio, your previous idea felt a bit more ominous. Just as you were heading in, Frank was heading out. You bumped shoulders, that unmistakeable little laugh coming from the other guitarist.

⠀"Gotcha!" Frank grinned, turning to face you as you turned simultaneously. "Knew you were coming. Ray won't shut up about it."

⠀"Oh?" He'd piqued your interest. You couldn't help the smile on your lips, your head tilted a bit to the side as you watched Frank. Maybe you'd entertain this. "How are you so sure?"

⠀Frank playfully glanced off into the sky, hands in his pockets as he rocked on his heels with an excited little smile. "Oh, you knoooow," He shrugged, "Just the way he instantly got up and started making sure everything was juuust right for your arrival. I can recite it verbatim, dude. 'you know who called-? yeah! yeah. gonna help 'em with some guitar stuff- hey, do you remember where that one amp is-?'. Gay." Frank shook his head with a laugh.

⠀The image in your mind brought some warmth to your chest. He was that excited just to see you?

⠀"You guys are so gay. Look at that fuckin' smile on your face. Unbelieveable. Well, don't let me keep you from your date."

⠀Before you could protest, Frank had already turned and raised a hand in goodbye, leaving you outside the doors of the studio in the brisk air.

⠀You turned, looking at the doors with slightly wider eyes than a few moments before. Figuring the last thing you wanted to do was keep Ray waiting, you pulled open the door and walked inside.

⠀As usual, the smell hit you first. Wood, metal, a bit of sweaty musk, and a certain "clean" smell, but clean the way carpets are. It was warmer inside, but only warm enough to keep everyone from shivering considering the instruments and equipment were top priority. You walked down the hall, finally finding the recording room Ray was settled in. As if on cue, he looked up to see you through the window in the door. You smiled, and waved enthusiastically.

⠀Ray returned the smile, and you opened the door to realize there was no one else but him. Well of course there was no one else but him, but still it was a bit jarring to be alone with him. It was always a bit difficult to come to terms with the fact that you had the fattest crush on Ray. It was obvious to a pathetic point, hence the embarrassment.

"Glad you could make it. I mean, I was getting a little worried, y'know."

"Oh- pff, yeah. I had to walk here... No car, and all..."

"What-!?"

⠀The way Ray's jaw dropped made you nearly shrink.

"You walked here? Dude-! I-..." He let out a small laugh of disbelief, "I could have come picked you up. It's way too cold outside to be walking. Besides, what if someone kidnapped you?" Ray shook his head as he pulled two chairs close together, facing each other.

"I mean, I didn't want to bother you-"

"Oh shut up! You can always bother me. Always. Takes only a little gas to get to you. And if it meant you were gonna be warm, then that's what I would have opted for."

⠀Again, that same little smile crept up your lips along with a certain warm flush to your face. It was nice for him to worry so much. For him to care. It almost gave you a liiiiittle spark of hope that he felt the same.

⠀You pulled off your jacket, which Ray was quick to take. Just for a moment, his finger tips brushed along your biceps. The ghostly sensation was enough to raise instant goosebumps along your arms. And oddly enough, you couldn't help but think about how warm his touch was despite it being barely there. You wondered what it'd feel like for him to hold you with purpose. With his hands placed strategically, with meaning. Just for a second, you wondered what that warmth would feel like on the more private areas of your body. How would his hand feel clasping the back of your neck? Cradling the underside of your thighs snaking further up until he could cradle your ass in his palms? Would he be gentle? No. No, Ray would be gentle in theory. But he'd want to grab you. Hold you. Make sure you fit just right in his hands, slotted together like pieces of a puzzle.

"You ready?"

⠀You turned quickly. "Yeah! Yeah, sorry. Lot on my mind, I totally zoned out."

"All good... You okay? Do you want to talk about it?"

⠀You could have laughed if you weren't so tensed with both embarrassment and anxiety. Paralyzed with the realization that was now setting in: the man you had dumbly imagined a future with, sex with, dates with, and intimacy with was now going to be mere inches away from you while your mind strayed and tried to come up with every last sexual situation this moment could lead to. What a set up.

"No! No, it's nothing like that!" You gave a nervous laugh, waving your hand as you finally convinced your feet to move and walk you to the chair beside him. "Just... Nervous I guess. It'll be my first time playing on stage like that. I don't think high school band and choir count." You laughed again, softer this time. What you didn't see was the way Ray's lips curled up slightly at your more genuine laugh. The sound was sweet, no matter how much you tried to deny it. He loved it.

"That's okay. Here, we'll start simple? Okay? Just nailing down some scales and stuff? You gotta remember scales from band and all, right? These'll be your base blocks."

⠀You gave a few nods and desperately tried to focus on the guitar he placed in your hands. It only took a few seconds to realize it was one of his personal electrics. Ray carefully reached forward and guided your fingers into position. Again, you felt that same rush of heat. His hands were larger than yours, and now closely studying them, you wondered what they'd feel like in your hair. Running through it, or perhaps holding it tightly. Maybe even tugging on it.

"My fingers go here?" You quickly tried to end run your thoughts by paying attention, which was most likely important considering these lessons were meant to help you get ready for being in a proper band.

"Yeah. Just like that. See? You're already catching on."

⠀The little amount of praise nearly made your stomach jump into your chest. It was practically like he was trying to give your mind ammunition to fluster you with.

"Alright. You've done picking before, right?"

"Just some. I'm not too good, if I'm being honest."

"Don't say that. I'm sure you're great, but don't put yourself down. Try picking top string to bottom string. That's your low E to high E."

⠀You did as he instructed, and for a little while it was just that. Ray told you what to do, showing you little tips and tricks along with some position corrections and adjustments while you desperately tried to fight everything off in your mind. Now wasn't the time to debate whether Ray was into you. Now wasn't the time to question if Ray found you just as attractive as you found him. Attractive didn't even cut it.

⠀It seemed everyone knew about your 'thing with Ray', so you had spoken to your friends about it in the past. And boy, could you gush. Between his eyes that seemed to twinkle and shine whenever he was interested in something, to his smile that creased up his eyes in the most adorable way, and then there were his lips which were so plush and perfect looking. They paired perfectly with his cut jaw, which led down to an oddly hot-looking neck, and don't even get started on his broad shoulders-

"Are you really okay?"

You nearly jumped three feet in the air.

"Fine! Sorry, I'm so sorry... I think I'm just ready to move on. If you think I'm ready, that is."

"Yeah, I'd say you're pretty good on scales for now. I mean, if it comes down to it I can just give you another lesson. Meet back here again and polish everything, you know?"

"I... I'd really appreciate that, yeah."

"Great. Then we'll meet again for lessons. Until then, why don't we move on to some chord progressions?"

"Sounds good to me."

⠀Ray explained a few shapes, but it was a bit difficult considering he didn't have a guitar in his hands, too. He was moreso explaining them to you, guiding your fingers, and then having you strum. And for the simpler chords, it worked. But as they grew more complex, you could feel the gears slowing in your brain. Not to mention, being able to smell Ray's shampoo, deodorant, and cologne didn't help. You were growing desperate. Fast. You wanted to smell like him. Be so close, so enveloped in him, that your skin took to his cologne. Your skin smelled like his skin.

"Okay, this obviously isn't going amazingly, so let's try something a little different. I'm gonna move you, okay?"

⠀You nearly got up before you felt your chair move with you on it. Ray had tugged your chair over directly in front of his. So close you could see his shoes beside your chair. Then, his arms came from behind you. One of his hands settled on your waist, the other wrapped around your hand on the fret board. You could scream.

⠀He was so close. You could feel the heat radiating off of him. Hold me. Hold me, not the guitar. Say whatever you'd like, just hold me, please. I want your arms to squeeze me.

⠀You decided to royally fuck any mental restraint now. You wouldn't feed into it physically, but there was no point restraining your thoughts now. God, this had to be purposeful. Friends don't hold each other gently by the waist, thumb absentmindedly stroking back and forth along the fabric of your shirt. He had to be moving in on you, and you weren't complaining a bit.

"Here. Your index, or first finger, goes here, second here, third here, and your pinky goes here. Hold that, and strum a few times."

⠀His voice had dropped lower. Slightly softer, but richer. He was speaking just to you. Just for you. Saying words he only wanted you to here. The way his fingers tightened ever so slightly around your side made your breath hitch slightly. You assumed it was because you strummed the chord beautifully.

"Sorry, is this okay?" Ray asked gently, his voice carrying a slight gravelly undertone from being lowered.

⠀Realizing what he meant, you flashed a reassuring smile. "You're okay." You nodded a few times.

"Good."

⠀Ray's hand shifted a bit lower, his grip hugging the side of your thigh as he moved in closer. His head was over your shoulder and you could feel his chest pressed against your back. If it weren't for the stupid fucking chair, you'd be able to be perfectly snug against his figure. And, fuck, did you want to be.

"Let's try another chord. You're doing great."

⠀Ray's lips nearly brushed along your ear. You could feel his breath warming your skin, even feeling his chest rise and fall. If you paid any closer attention, you would be able to tell that his heart was racing the same way yours was. Being so close to you was a blessing for Ray. One you didn't exactly know about, but could guess by now. His fingers guided yours again, and made a different chord. You strummed, and and a string buzzed obnoxiously, as if wanting to be seen.

"That's okay, I think it's your pinky. Shift it a little to the right. Strum again?"

You did as he directed.

"Perfect." Along with his praise, he gave a small rub and squeeze to the side of your thigh. There was a small, trapped sound that caught in your throat, whether out of surprise or enjoyment. Either way, you didn't see the smile plastered on Ray's face.

⠀Just as Ray was about to say something else, his phone buzzed in his back pocket and played a Bauhaus song.

"Shit- sorry. One second."

⠀Just as his warmth had wrapped around you, it was gone twice as fast. He had pulled away and gotten up, answering the phone in the corner of the room. If you listened close enough, you would be able to make out whatever he was saying. You opted to pluck mindlessly at the guitar, even practicing a few of the picking patterns Ray had taught you.

"Okay, sorry about that. Gerard called, wanted to know if I would be down to practice with everyone else. Which, in Gerard talk, means everyone else wants to practice and needs me too. But, uh, I wanted to ask you, first." He stuffed his hands in his pockets.

"Ask me..?"

"If you didn't mind ending this lesson here. But not forever-! Just... For now. How does same time tomorrow sound?"

⠀You stood, leaning over to switch off the amp before you unplugged the cable and guitar. You handed the guitar over to Ray with a sweet smile, that of which he returned. It wasn't hard to see you were both seeing each other as newer people.

"It sounds perfect to me."

"Perfect. So I'll... Come pick you up, too?"

"I dunno. Maybe I'll... Walk here again. Just so that you'll have to do whatever you did back there to warm me up."

⠀Ray faltered for a moment, then laughed as he registered you addressing the moment. "Right. I'll do you one better. I'll pick you up a little early and make sure you're nice and warm in my car, yeah?" Ray took the guitar from you and put it away, safely in its case. He then grabbed your jacket, and held it open for you to slip your arms into.

"I don't think I can argue with that one." You grinned.

"Good. It's settled." Ray helped your coat on, then rested his hands on your biceps. He leaned down beside your shoulder again. "See you tomorrow?"

⠀Your face flushed again, this time, you turned slightly so that your lips were a few inches from his own.

"See you tomorrow."

☾ — mueheheheeeee i hope this was good. any comments are greatly appreciated, positive or constructive critcism, either way i'm down. ermmm debating a part two?? but idk it feels kinda finished to me ',:|. either way, hope u liked ittttt tags n shiz below but yeah :3 — ☾

[chigiridreams]

Summary: Hyoma has a stomach cold. He got up in the middle of the night and threw up and you woke up to his voice. Then you took care of him as best you could.

Warning: None

Word count: 1601

THE WARM HAND OF LOVE

Hyoma woke up at midnight with a strange pain in his stomach. He tossed and turned for a while, but the pain only grew worse. His breathing quickened, and beads of sweat formed on his forehead. Finally, unable to bear it any longer, he got out of bed and staggered toward the bathroom. His stomach churned, and his lips were pressed tightly together. The moment he reached the sink, he couldn’t hold back and began to vomit.

You were awakened by the sound of Hyoma and slowly opened your eyes. Not seeing him next to you, a wave of panic washed over you. You raised your head and glanced around, noticing the light seeping through the slightly open bathroom door. “Hyoma?” you called out, but there was no response. Without hesitation, you got out of bed and quickly headed toward the bathroom door.

Light leaked through the slightly ajar door, and the sound of retching came from inside.

When you stepped in, you found Hyoma leaning against the sink, struggling to breathe. His face was pale, and his forehead was covered in sweat. “Hyoma! What happened? Are you okay?” you asked as you rushed to his side.

Hyoma tried to give you a faint smile, but he didn’t have the strength. “I think… there’s a guy here with a cold stomach,” he said, his voice hoarse and tired, still speaking with his head bent over the sink.

You frowned and supported him anxiously. “Not a guy with a cold stomach—just a guy who doesn’t take care of himself. What did you eat today? Or did you catch a chill?”

Hyoma shrugged weakly and nodded slightly. “Maybe… the ice cream this morning… or the cold shower…” he muttered with a guilty tone.

Taking a deep breath, you wiped the sweat off his forehead. “What am I going to do with you, huh? First, you get sick, and then you calmly explain it like it’s no big deal. Come on, let’s get back to bed. We’ll put something warm on your stomach. I’ll make you some lemon tea,” you said, gently helping him to his feet.

Hyoma gave you a surprised look at how carefully you were taking care of him. “I… didn’t want to wake you,” he murmured. You turned off the bathroom light as you supported him against your shoulder. “Did you really expect me to sleep through you throwing up and shutting yourself in the bathroom? Hyoma, I love you like crazy. Of course I’d get up.”

Once Hyoma was back in bed, you hurried to the kitchen to prepare lemon tea and brought a hot water bottle. Sitting by his bedside, you placed the warm bottle on his stomach, stroked his hair, and helped him sip the tea. “Next time, you’ll listen to my advice—no cold showers, no ice cream. Got it?”

Hyoma smiled weakly and nodded. “Got it. But… I think I’m lucky to have someone who fusses over me this much.”

You leaned in and kissed him on the forehead. “Yes, you are. But if you scare me like this again, I’ll pour that tea over your head!” you teased, and both of you chuckled.

The moment Hyoma caught the scent of the lemon tea you’d made, he grimaced. Sniffing lightly, he stared at the cup.

“Ugh! What is this? It smells like medicine,” he whined.

Rolling your eyes, you held the cup out to him. “It doesn’t smell like medicine—it smells like healing. Drink it. It’ll help your stomach.”

Hyoma gave the cup a skeptical look before turning to you with raised eyebrows. “Are you really going to make me endure this? Lemon tea… My stomach’s already crying.”

Crossing your arms, you were on the verge of losing your patience. “Hyoma, are you a child? Drink the tea. Or would you prefer to throw up again?”

Reluctantly, Hyoma brought the cup to his lips but paused again as the smell hit him.

“But this… this… smells like poison, Y/N! Can’t we try something else? Like water? Or… maybe something with chocolate?”

Frowning again, you grabbed the cup from his hands, took a sip, and handed it back. “Look, I’m drinking it, and nothing’s happening. Forget the chocolate—lemon tea works wonders for your stomach. Now be a good boy and drink it.”

Hyoma sighed and took a reluctant sip of the tea, his face twisting in disgust. “It tastes even worse than it smells! Do you really love me, Y/N? This feels like torture.”

You laughed and ruffled his hair. “Yes, I love you. But when you don’t take care of yourself, you deserve a little bit of torture. Now, drink a little more, and I’ll give you a kiss.”

Hyoma grinned weakly, lifting the cup again. “So there’s a reward… Alright, alright. I’m drinking it just for your kiss, not for any other reason!” he said, starting to finish the tea.

Shaking your head with a smile, you teased him. “You go on and on about my love for you. Now finish that tea and earn your reward.”

Watching Hyoma grimace as he held the cup, you added, “I’ll grab you some salted crackers. They’ll help. You drink; I’ll be right back,” and headed to the kitchen.

Hyoma glanced at the cup and sighed. “What a tea… At least the crackers will save the day,” he muttered, taking another small sip and grimacing again but continuing to drink.

When you returned with a plate full of crackers, you sat down beside him and placed the plate on the bedside table. “Here, these are like a miracle for your stomach. Eat a couple after the tea, and you’ll feel better.”

Hyoma reached for a cracker and popped it into his mouth. “These are better! You should’ve just started with the crackers, not the tea. We could’ve fixed my stomach with these.”

Laughing, you gently messed up his hair. “The tea is necessary. But let me tell you—if you keep whining, there won’t be any reward.”

Hyoma squinted at the cup, then at you. “Alright, alright… I can’t give up on the reward. I’m finishing it,” he said, downing the rest of the tea in one go. He closed his eyes and grimaced but took a deep breath afterward. “Done! You wanted it, and I drank it!”

Smiling at his effort, you leaned in and kissed his cheek. “Good job, my good boy. Now rest a little. Let me know if you need anything else—I’m right here.”

Hyoma leaned his head back and gave you a small, grateful smile. “It’s impossible not to get better with you around. But I still don’t like the tea—just saying!”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Get a little better, and I’ll make you some hot chocolate.”

Hyoma winked. “Then I’m recovering quickly!”

For the next half hour, you stayed by his side, occasionally checking his forehead for a fever and growing more worried whenever you noticed his pale complexion.

“How’s your stomach now? Your face is still so pale,” you asked, your voice filled with concern. Hyoma turned his head slightly, smiling faintly.

“Better… but my stomach still feels strange. Like a rock is sitting in it.”

When you reached for his hands, their coldness startled you. “Your hands are freezing too,” you said with a worried frown, holding them tightly to warm them.

Hyoma shrugged slightly. “I don’t know… Maybe I just caught a chill. But with you here, I’ll get better quickly.”

Glaring at him lightly, you muttered, “If you take such little care of yourself, it’ll be hard to get better. Who knows what you did to end up like this.” Without letting go of his hands, you leaned back on the bed, pulling Hyoma closer to you.

“Lie down for a bit. Don’t think I’m leaving. I’m staying right here,” you added, your eyes never leaving him as you held his hands tightly in yours. Hyoma smiled with gratitude at your warm care.

“I’m lucky,” he said, his voice tired but full of affection. “No one’s ever taken care of me like this before.”

Raising an eyebrow, you gently touched his cheek. “No one would, because no one is me,” you replied with loving defiance. “I’m not leaving you alone anymore.”

[nightmare-niko]

Selfish Waltz [Bang Chan x reader]

warnings: toxic! Ish relationship, over working, fighting, angst

A/n: I know I said I was gonna write a Jake fic next and I am!! That one’s on the way! I just couldn’t get this idea out of my mind so… here u go!!

Yeah, 아무것도 아니란 듯 그저 우리는 춤을 추며 밤을 보내고 Yeah, 억지스러운 손짓에 뻔한 춤사위 다음 step은 무의미한걸 Yeah, 달아오를 것 하나 없어, 이 무도회는 무미건조 Yeah, 맹목적으로 오늘도 또 반복해, 매번 똑같아 우리만의

Copying or translating my writing is not allowed. If you see my work on another site it is stolen. Reblogs are appreciated and encouraged.

Yet another long tiring day at work without a word from your boyfriend. It didn't bother you much anymore, honestly. Back when It had first started when the ‘honeymoon’ phase ended-- You'd beg for any kind of acknowledgment. you'd tell Chris that you didn't even need a conversation— just to know that he was okay. But these days you do not even bother. He didn't text, neither did you. It was the new normal.

You pulled your car into your parking spot in your apartment's parking garage. Chris’ car was in his assigned spot right next to yours, he was home early. You'd been spending so much time at your studio-- it was always dark when you came home. But it was usually passed midnight when Chris would come through the door.

When he started picking up work on the weekends— you did too. No point going crazy in an empty apartment when you could get so much work done.

You sigh to yourself as the hum of your car drowns out. the slow dread creeping into you. You honestly can't remember the last time you and Chris had an actual conversation. Or the last time you had a date night, or slept together-- you'd fallen too used to the routine. as if it meant nothing. the fact the man you loved couldn't even give you the time of day meant… nothing.

You check the clock, 9:45 pm. If you were lucky - Chan would be in his home studio working. He won't notice the bags under your eyes — or how you look like the walking dead. if he could overwork himself— so could you. Maybe you worked so well because of your shared stubborn, and unhealthy hard work ethic. Silence ate away at you as you used the elevator to your floor. Your heart pounded erratically as you entered the Keycode to your door. The entrance light was flicked on and Chris’ belongings Were Scattered around the area. You cursed at him under your breath for not putting his things away. you kick them out of the way as you take off your shoes, bag, and jacket and put them in the proper spot.

"You're home late, I didn't realize you changed your hours." You freeze as you come Face to face with Chris. Damnit.

You stammer awkwardly, "Well I didn't, I just kind of stay as long as I feel like staying.” You walk around him and into the Kitchen.

Chris Follows you, "Still you never stay this late.”

You sigh, enthusiastically opening the Fridge and looking into it. I've been coming home this late for months Chris. you're just never home to notice.”

“oh c'mon baby, don't be like that. You know the kids, and I are busy working on our comeback.”

You close the fridge empty-handed. "I'm not being like anything. You're busy, I am too. It's not that big of a deal." You avoid his gaze, electing to give up on your search for food.

“You look tired,"

You Sigh, again. “I am tired. I had a long day." You try to get around him for a second time, but he stops you.

"Have you been taking care of yourself?"

Your already thin patience is beginning to grow thinner. "I don't know, Chris, have I?" You feel yourself beginning to crack. "You're gone when I wake up and you come home when I'm asleep. Ask me that when you start taking care of yourself." You push by him before any more harsh words get thrown at him.

You don't expect him to follow you, today's short outburst will most likely be completely Ignored by Chris — Just as all of your other ones have. You enter the bathroom for a well-needed shower. Your muscles ached and screamed from the dance you worked so hard on choreographing For your YouTube channel. You'd been putting your all into it ever since your boyfriend Started coming home late. Maybe Chris was right, you hadn't really been taking care of yourself. But that didn't matter, You had to finish your project.

Steam billowed from your bathroom door as you made your way to your room For bed.

You hadn't even noticed your boyfriend on your shared bed until you turned around after putting on your pajamas.

The room is silent as you do your Skincare. Your mind, however, is far from it. You didn't understand why you two had ended up like this. Even on his busiest and hardest days before - he'd never go a whole day without texting you - or telling you about his day and how much he missed you.

Maybe he was seeing someone behind your back...

No - nothing about any of his recent behavior leads you to sincerely believe that.

Maybe he just doesn't love you anymore.

But if that was the case why hasn't he just left?

You catch a stray tear falling down your cheek. You can't cry- there's no use.

•

You wake once again to an empty bed. The sheets beside you are cold, he probably left before sunrise. You pat around on your nightstand for your phone to check the time. Damn - you had overslept. Slowly, you got out of bed. No use wasting the whole day. Maybe you'd treat yourself to a coffee at your favorite café-- Chris’ favorite café. After getting dressed, you packed your backpack for work. Since you had gotten a late start you'd have to compensate by staying later. Right as you go to leave, your phone begins to ring- ‘Channie🤍’ lights up your phone screen, along with a picture of your boyfriend and his adorable dog Berry. you consider ignoring the call completely, but you can't bring yourself to. You answer the call,

“Hello?”

"Hey..." his voice is small, “didn't think you'd answer.”

You swear you hear your heart crack. "I'll always answer when you call, channie. What's wrong?”

“Nothing, I just…”

"Just what? Chris?”

There's a beat of silence before he continues, “Just wanted to hear your voice.”

You laugh softly, and for a moment, it feels like you haven't been icing each other out for the past few months. “Well here I am, I'm leaving for work, though. I'm staying late so don't wait ор, okay?”

"Later than yesterday??" His concern is noticeable, even through the phone.

"I don't know… maybe?” Oh, here he goes “why?”

"I just missed you, that's all… Hey, maybe we can do something together this weekend?”

“We’ll see Chris— I have to go now though.”

“Okay…” There’s silence on the line for a moment "I love you, always.”

"I love you too, Chris, always.” You hesitate to hang up but eventually bring yourself to hit the red button. The line goes dead and you let out a shaky breath.

It's a little past midnight when you come home. You're surprised to see Chan waiting for you in the living room. "I thought I told you not to wait.”

He ignores your statement, “Did you eat?”

the question stuns you, "Yeah-" You lied a little you had a snack during lunchtime and some coffee.

He gets up off of the sofa with a disappointed look on his face, “You need to eat baby. You are a dancer, you need energy.”

You scoff, "Why are you talking to me like I don't say this all the time for you to just ignore me?"

"c mon. Y/N, that's different.”

"How exactly? I want you to explain to me how this" You gesture between the two of you— ”Is different than what you did not even six months ago?? How is it when you're busy I have no right to show my concern but when I'm busy you get on my ass??" You feel your blood start to boil.

"Baby please-"

"It's like we have on good streak and then you're back to Ignoring me-- I'm sick of it Christopher. you haven't kissed me in weeks, we haven't done out in almost a year— I mean you don't even touch me anymore, Chris! If you want to break up with me just do it! I'm sick of this stupid dance we're doing!" Tears begin to pool, in your eyes.

He takes a step towards you, “Baby no— I don't— I'd *never. I'd never even think about breaking up with you. I love you.”

You throw your hands up in defeat. "Then I don't know what to do anymore Chris." Your voice cracks pathetically as you try your hardest to not sob. “This morning was the first time you've said it in months! What else am I supposed to think?!"

“I know-- I know and I'm sorry." He pulls you into him, "But please don't hurt yourself because of me. you need rest. proper rest.” Chan wipes your tears with his thumb. "I'll do better. I promise will. But you have to promise me that you'll Stop overworking yourself. I will too - for you, for us.”

Your vision is blurred From Your tears. “You promise?” You choke out.

"Promise,” he nods. patting your head calmingly. "How about I make you something and then we can go to bad? then tomorrow, I'm all yours.”

You nod gently. Chan takes your hand and leads you into the kitchen. He lifts you up to sit on the counter. You watch him lovingly as he prepares food for you. You eat together in the calm of your Kitchen, you honestly feel like you're dreaming.

When the two of you settle into bed together he holds you tightly. for the first time in months-- he holds you as you slip away into Slumber.

.

When you open your eyes, the sun abusing your poor eyes, Chris’ side of the bed is empty and cold.

You should have known better than that.

Tag list (If you want to be added just comment!)

@chmpgneprblem

@qoopeeya

@sleepysongbirdsings

@magicalcowboyarbiter

@tadpoleteef

@stayceebs97

[professorshape]

My mind is full of BG3 but as my laptop is shitting the bed and I cannot get to decent Wi-Fi until Monday, I must sit and stew and write my ideas instead of playing with my favorite gay people. So here are my little thoughts.

I love the way that the characters names have something to do with their pasts. Gale is from a sea fairing city, so he is named after strong wind that pushes the sails of ships. unseen forces moving massive instruments. I wish we were able to actually meet his mother, she a spit fire!

Wyll's will is such a strong theme for his character, discipline is a key part of his character, despite being a warlock and under the hand of literal devil. A name also reflects massively on what the parent wants for that child. Very few parents will name their child shit burrito for good reason. I sometimes wonder if Wyll's mother, Francesca Ravengard, wanted to name Wyll Wyll. I wonder if she had other ideas, and dreams for her son before she passed. She might have been perfectly healthy up until the end, but labor is like battle and there is no sure chance one will come out alive. I sometimes think of the nights Ulder Ravengard spent without Francesca Ravenguard, holding his son. I wonder if Wyll was ill and Ulder was faced with the reality he may lose his son as well as his wife in the span of a few weeks. I wonder if he could stand to be in the same room as his son or if he worshiped the baby, the only living thing left of his late wife. I think that Wyll is a perfect name of him.

Shadowheart was a name that Shadowheart gave to herself. At first it was proof of her devotion, to the point others in her cult laughed at her. But in the end the change of the name also aided the cult in tricking her, it pushed away her family's influence and memory, while also making her feel like she had agency, leading to further disassociation from her past. Names have so much connection to the past it is one of the only things that really remains from the baby you once were to the person you are now, if you choose to keep the name. I think that the cult pushed her to change her name, subtly or not. It is easier to sever that connection with a new name.

Astarion is interesting to me because it's not a name outside of cannon. it makes me think his parents were romantics, artists maybe. His name makes me think A Star Orion. Maybe he was named after a character in a book or play. I'm not a fan of his name being juvenile, that he was supposed to be renamed as an adult elf. He was a magistrate in Balder's Gate, this man had a big boy job sending big boy men to big boy prison and everything, let's not infantilize him lol. I do like the nickname Star, but i think he would hate it. The drunks he lead to Cazador would shorten his name with their weakened tongues so he is not a fan.

I think it is crazy that there aren't more bard wizards. There is magic all around us and we can manipulate it to the point of making godly headshots, but I can't make my spells more powerful by adding harmonies??? Honestly i wish there more stuff for bards, but I automatically go for bard anyway unless i am playing brick the barbarian.

It would be so fun to have special character reactions to having your character named after another. Just let me slap Mystra's face onto my Tav's face and give Gale and mini heart attack when he's pulled from the stone. I need to play around with the game and see if there are any limits to the names, we can give ourselves.

I think that Jaheira and Astarion would make a good pair, he could be useful as a night assassin, and it would keep him fed. Also, I feel like Jaheira would appreciate a companion with some reference to what happened years ago without it feeling like to grandmother's talking about the good old days. I usually turn my Astarion relationships into friendships, and i think having someone who wants connection and intimacy without sex would be good for Astarion. Stable but not too invasive. He still gets to have control over his body.

Anyway, there are my gay little thoughts before school takes over my life again!

[true-blue-sonic]

I’ve been crazy ill for the last two days, I am cold all over and have a scorching forehead and runny nose and I keep coughing and my everywhere hurts, would you happen to have any cute Silver thoughts to help out this poor soul? Could be Sonilver or Espilver or neither, up to you

Oh no, I'm sorry to hear! D: I hope you get well soon🍀 Make sure to stay hydrated, and also eat something if you can!! As for Silver...

There's a Taiwanese cafe promo kinda thing with the Sonic cast, and in there it is noted that Silver doesn't have a lot of experience with cooking, so they let him make the drinks. So I imagine he makes an absolutely baller coffee art thing with the milk-pouring! He uses his psychokinesis to create hearts, animals, whole sceneries and what have you with 500% precision, haha. If there's a competition for latte art, his friends would urge him to sign up immediately!

On the topic of Silver and cooking, I think he'd definitely try it out when he's in the past; probably together with Amy. But I think he's just got little eye for what ingredients and flavours would be nice together, and which are... more daring, so to say. So Amy gets him a book he can write down recipes in, so he knows how to make meals he likes <3

I saw in a post from someone else that they thought Sonic and Silver would have monthly spar-dates, and I share the sentiment completely :> Can imagine Silver just coming in like "Want to beat each other up?" and Sonic is like "Absolutely :D" and they just have a go at each other XD But afterwards they can patch up each other's bruises and stuff, and that's very romantic and tender!! Speaking of, I'm writing a fic about the aftermath of the Silver rival battle in Generations, because my POOR BOI gets knocked tf out (entirely through his own actions lol). So Sonic's gotta get him out of there and they can hang out together until Silver's more recovered <3 <3

As for Espio, with winter having come around again I can imagine the Chaotix' Agency is very cold due to high heating bills, so Es gladly uses Silver as his little space heater to get through the months. I don't see the Chaotix as cold-blooded like their real-life counterparts, but I do think they wouldn't appreciate cold weather! But Silver is right there and very fluffy :> And probably also rather concerned with making sure Espio doesn't freeze, haha. But Espio can sleep warm and comfortable with Silver wrapped around him.

And for either Sonic or Espio, them visiting Silver in the future! With Sonic I think Silver would go to nature areas or Zones that are important to him in the past, to see what they look like now. And with Espio, I think Silver would go to libraries or maybe museums so he can learn and look at the culture of the future. Wherever they go, it's guaranteed to be a good time! <3

Hope these help! Take care❤️