#meant for 💌

[thekiltongrammarwriter]

What was I made for? (maybe you?) True Blue |Sneak peek

Authors note: This will most likely surpass the 15k chapter opener, I do hope you enjoy it 💌! This is fresh off the page and I have not edited one bit of it. I most likely will change things, maybe its just me but I feel like Bel might be a little off how I wrote her? I would adore your feedback on what you enjoyed.

"How has the campaign been? Any more votes? When is the deadline again? Carter mentioned it would be in two weeks" Bel's voice spoke muffled under your cotton blankets, you lovingly rolled your eyes at Bel's words, you were pretty sure you had mentioned it recently, but with the documentary coming up so soon and fast you were sure Bel felt like a chicken without a head, feelings jumbled and emotions on every corner.

You saved your project on your computer before grabbing your phone and putting it next to you, the familiar noise of Bel's keyboard on her computer rushed and frantic over the mobile. "It's in two weeks Annabel" you cooed playfully over the phone knowing she would catch the tail end of the sentence. It had been two weeks since you and Bel had the "talk" at the park, two weeks and surprisingly Bel had been the one to stick to you like glue, walking you to class and eating lunch with you in the canteen, going over your campaign schedule like she was Carter Price with eager eyes. She was still Bel in every way, still the brooding prickly girl she always had been, but with you around she always had a pep in her step, like she was alive somehow.

She still kept her distance, hence the question. Bel had been busy for the first couple days of the week, having only enough time to give you your secret "handshake" at the door, amusing Carter because she had told you secretly of course "That is not a handshake y/n that is a full-fledged palm on palm connection a pinkie intertwine, dare I say a sensual grip of affection" Carter had bugged you as you both worked on removing the old posters and putting up the freshly new posters with the golf barriers that bel had picked out. You had chuckled, feeling your heart beat fast in your chest whenever Carter mentioned anything remotely Bel price. Because now you knew Bel Price and how soft and lovable she could be, how amazing and resilient she was, and it only made your heartache in the best ways. Bel's silent comments in class, her charming smile that lifted off the edges of her lips cheekbones sharp up to her blue eyes, those grey-blue eyes that you had grown accustomed to seeing.

Even the student body had found it odd to see The Bel Price hanging out with the future student body president, "Yo did you catch Bel Price with y/n this morning? Totally sus" some students would say, but you loved it. Every minute of it. Bel would come and walk beside you, hips brushing up against each other, ask about your day or if you had time to talk. You always did, even if you had to reschedule some things which you never told Bel.

Bel always asked you how your home life was, asked about your mother and surprisingly your little brothers, she was calm and content with you, with you she was just Bel, not Bel Price the daughter of the infamous Rachel Price who haunted the small town of Gorham New Hampshire. You two had connected in a way that she had never thought possible, and Bel intended on keeping you close, with boundaries of course.

Bel alluded to you how she couldn't even entertain the thought of dating, she had mentioned to you one evening in the car while Carter went to fetch the Pizza how her "relationship" with Sam Blake had gone down, how she had spoken out of turn about her father, accused of him of murdering Rachel like almost every other person had. She told you of her struggles and how she really had not entertained the idea of another relationship, that she was content enough where she was. but you knew she was afraid and terrified, could see the inner panic on her face at times. You knew why. Being abandoned and not having a mother figure could do that to a person.

You and Bel Price were best mates, best friends. That's what you labeled it and that's what you stuck with. It didn't matter the way Bel would eye your lips as you spoke in front of the class or the way her heart ached and butterflies flew in her stomach when you would smile at her widely or walk past her desk in your high-knee socks that made her head spin like a top. It didn't matter. Because Bel Price would not entertain the thought. She was adamant.

"It's odd hearing my name like that, it almost feels like it isn’t quite my name" Bel speaks, her voice seemingly in a daydream.

You can imagine her blue eyes staring at some odd trinket in her room, next to the golden picture frame of you both near her bedside table. God that girl had the most sticky fingers ever, bel had so far taken almost every one of your scrunchies by accident of course, but you didn’t mind. Not when Bel would leave them in your locker with a note attached.

“I love your name! It sounds so familiar and unique” you chimed, and Bel scoffed, “it gives out old lady who can’t get up off the bathroom floor y/n” she deadpanned.

You chuckled, loving her natural tone of expression. “It does not. It’s a wonderful name and you should use it” you spoke, sounding like a parental figure rather than Bel’s best friend.

Bel rolled her eyes all the way into her own room, “yes Mom” she spoke, “speaking of mothers how is your darling mother dearest?” Bel asked. You laughed, brows scrunched.

“She’s doing good. After our talk she finally apologized, had a whole conversation about how I felt, she actually cried when I told her how unloved I felt. Said she thought of me as her big girl who was tough and busy, and that I didn’t need her. We spoke about Richard too”.

Bel could feel the anger in your tone at the mention of your estranged father.

“How was that?” Bel asked.

“He’s moving closer to town, got a job at some oil company in town. Honestly having him over for dinner was like having some stranger of the streets eat with you. It was so uncomfortable bel. The whole time I felt this…anger in me. Didn’t help the fact that he was so nice, kept saying I grew up beautiful and looked so much like him at that age. All I wanted to do was grab my salad fork and ram it into his eyes…but that would most likely scar my brothers so I settled for the silent treatment.”

Bel smirked, imagining you with your sweet kind eyes making violent gestures with your fork at the man. Which was all good and well because he deserved it, making you go through so many things a young girl shouldn’t have. But it built you into the person bel knew today, so it was a bittersweet feeling. “Of course, we wouldn’t want to scar the children. I would have cussed him out if I was there, provided your mother would let me”.

“Of course. Bel price and her irresistible manners. I still can’t believe you made Jimmy cry in middle school, he barely mentioned it the other day.”

Bel smiled smugly, she had a certain charm that invoked attacking others with words. “Ahh yes. I remember that. Carter made me apologize to him after recess.”

“I would not expect anything less from Carter” you spoke.

Bel chucked, lips moving up feigning hurt, “you don’t think I could apologize on my own?”.

“Oh, I know you wouldn’t apologize on your own” you deadpanned, your voice teasing and light all the same.

You could hear and see Bel’s smirk in your mind, imagine her soft cheeks and sly grin at your teasing words.

You could hear Bel’s fingers halt on her keyboard, and then “I have my first interview with the documentary team soon”. You could tell from the familiar cadence in her voice, the brittle way the words formed that bel was not exactly enthusiastic about it. You could imagine her throwing the middle finger at the cameraman the whole time.

“How does that make you feel?” Your voice was soft and kind like you were treading over thin ice. You knew well now not to push her, if bel wanted to talk she would.

“Like I’m watching someone else’s life. Ramsey’s the director's name. And he’s all good and nice, had dad sign some forms already.”

“What are you going to do? When it comes time to film?”.

You were secretly nervous about that, bel had come out of her shell recently, letting you in just enough that you began to feel special in her eyes, and you didn’t want her retreating away back into the shell of the girl she once was. Call it selfish.

“Treat it logically. State everything I know from what I’ve read or seen, they can’t ask what I don’t know. I’ve been dealing with press for ages now I’m practically a natural at it”. The statement made your heart break because Bel had been dealing with this for years, and you were barely just now realizing how she dealt with it.

You tried to match her teasing that fiddled between her lips, “Oh yes I forgot how charming and well-hidden your secrets are”.

Bel laughed.

You bit your lip as you spoke, hoping your statement wouldn’t scare her off, “Bel…I hope you know I’m here for you. Through all of this. You don’t have to bear the burden alone.”

The line was silent, and you inwardly cursed yourself, but just as you were about to have a hard attack over your words bel spoke.

“How are you so good?”. The words puzzled you, your lips quirked into an unreadable smile, “What?”.

“How are you so good? I’ve met many people in my life y/n, and none of them make me feel the way you do. They're all assholes with a stick but their ass but you-“. The line was silent. “You’re so different. Anymore like you at home?”.

You chuckled at her words, trying hard not to smile too wide even if Bel couldn’t see you. "I am afraid I am one of a kind Bel Price".

Bel wanted to say more, to keep your voice in her head, something to hold to when this wild ride of a documentary would keep hold of her heart and dilute her mind. In all truth Bel had missed you so much these past weeks, it was strange how fast the human body could get attached to someone. It was like Bel's heart yearned for you, yearned to see you in the halls with your kind eyes and plenty of small talk for the student body. And maybe just maybe the way your eyes would find hers even through the crowd of students would make her feel something she never felt before. This burning sensation in her gut that seemed to amplify whenever you were around her.

It was odd how much Bel felt like she knew you from that talk at the park, she knew things about you that nobody else knew, and she’d keep that close to her heart, grab it like she would all the trinkets she kept in her nightstand by her bed, only this one shone its radiant light over all of them because she didn't keep it stored in the nightstand, she kept it in stored her heart.

“Hey, kiddo” A soft knock on her bedroom door pulled Bel away from her thoughts, and she moved to mute the phone before looking over at her dad. Charlie stood in the doorway with this messy side-swept hair. His fingers clung to her doorknob with a new kind of urgency that set bel’s heart racing, she knew that determined look in her father's eyes. Had seen it so many times growing up, and knew in the deep depths of her heart a serious talk was coming.

“You got a sec kiddo? I wanted to talk to you about something? If you’re done talking to your friend-“The way charlie's gray eyes flew to Bel’s phone voice slipping over the word ‘friend’ made something in Bel’s gut halt. But Bel immediately threw that thought away, this was her dad. The same man she always knew and loved. Bel nodded and smiled, “Sure dad. Just let me say bye”.

Charlie nodded and moved into Bel’s room, taking a seat on her twin-sized bed and swindling his fingers eagerly as his eyes looked around the room. Only his eyes were on Bel as she stood up from the bed, phone in hand, walking to her closet where she spoke into the phone with hushed whispers.

Charlie’s dark eyes watched as Bel’s smile widened, a laugh falling off her lips, her cheeks a deep shade of red. He watched as she whispered something into the phone before saying one last thing, it sounded a lot like, “I’ll miss you”. Eerily so.

Bel hung up her phone, and like a true teenage girl held it to her lips before shaking her head lovingly. She had almost forgotten her dad was there till he cleared his throat and smiled timidly at her.

Bel immediately schooled her features, turning to her father with her usual pale blue eyes, she slid her phone into her pocket before moving to sit beside her dad, enough distance between them that bel felt somehow somehow someway detached from him.

Which was an odd feeling because her whole life bel had felt like her father and had been one entity, she had grown up with him and he had raised her. Had done all her school projects with her at the kitchen table and all the cookies for Christmas and hung her graded work on the refrigerator. You almost couldn’t say Charlie Price without finding her name right beside it. But now as she eyed him, taking in his serious eyes and almost too calm expression she couldn’t help but feel different. She didn’t know why. And she didn’t like it. The way her stomach and mind poked at it, in a true bel-like fashion she stumped the thought before it could get too far. Turning to her dad with a smile, blonde eyebrows raised in a question.

“Are you done entertaining your friend? It’s been so hard to get a dang word in lately with you being gone so long at school and after school hours too” Charlie laughed, “are you sure no one’s holding you hostage? The bel price I knew would never be caught in school longer than the bell needed you to be ”.

Bel shook her head, “It’s just a project I’m helping a friend with Carter’s been helping too” Bel spoke, “and I’m trying to be more active in the education area because apparently “I lack the focus”.

Charlie let out a laugh, and bel found herself echoing it. That was her favorite moment of the day. Making her dad laugh. Because even after everything he had gone through with Rachel years ago he deserved a laugh. And the fact that she has been the one to make him laugh was like validation, something bel craved most often from her dad.

“Carter informed me on this little project of yours. Tell me-“ Charlie was eying her with soft eyes, “this friend of yours, is he new to town? Carter mentioned something about student council-“

Bel felt her stomach twist as her dad spoke on, but in a true like bel fashion she swooped in, pulling the imaginary rug from her fathers feet, like ripping of a plaster.

“She’s actually running as student council president in two weeks Dad. So Carter and I have been helping with the campaign, had to smile all week it was such a pain in the ass”.

Bel expected her dad to laugh alongside her but he remained silent, eying her with something akin to analyzing. “Oh…forgive me Bel but I’m a bit shocked here”.

The uncomfortable laugh that fell of his lips made Bel stomach twist in such an uncomfortable way, her posture was rigid and she grimaced.

“Dad-“

“I just thought you were done with all that after the little Sam Blake incident…I thought we were past all that.” Charlie was busy rubbing his eyes and sighing into his hands.

Bel felt shame seep into her veins, she desperately tried to appease him, feeling the way he was pulling away, the almost ‘I need some air we’ll talk when I get back’ worlds flying off his lips. How he would refuse to speak to her when she was crying or manic, leaving her behind. Abandoning her. All those times as a child or twelve year old he would get up and walk off.

Just the thought made Bel’s stomach clench and immediately she was taking Charlie’s hand, her voice holding empty pleas.

“Dad I promise she’s just a friend-“. Was she just a friend?

“I came in here to talk to you about the documentary and we instead talk about your love life” he chuckled sardonically, “look bel” he sighed into his hands, making a big show like somehow this was too big for him to deal with.

He took her hands into his, maintaining eye contact and swooping her chin with fingers like he would do when she was eight, “I love you. You’re my kiddo! It’s us against the world sweetheart. And all I’m trying to do is save you some heartbreak. I want you to be real with yourself for a moment”.

Bel eyed her dad, watching his eyes, the way his eyes reflected such a pale blue, like a sheen so close to her own eye color. She searched his eyes, trying to find some truth in those Ivey depths. She trusted this man with her whole heart, when would he ever truly hurt her? When had he ever? He had stayed when Rachel had left. Simple.

“Honey…would I ever lie to you?”.

He never had.

“You’re not ready to be in a relationship. The last one you were involved in was bad news. Hell, she even accused me of murdering Rachel?! And frankly, the minute Sam Blake came into this house she was a little asshole with a mouth on her. Listen you do what you want bel…but I’m telling you, listen to you're good old dad” he teased her chin, “you’re not ready for this. I’m just trying to save you some tears”.

Was he?

“Your happiness is all I care about”.

Bel replayed the talk in her head a thousand times in bed that night. Replayed it after her dad had smiled and kissed her forehead after he had hugged her so tight. Clinging to her and whispering that he loved her more than anything in this world.

And Bel believed him. With her whole heart, she believed him.

Her dad was just looking after her like he had when she was young. Like she did for him. Back to back, protecting each other through life’s obstacles.

It didn’t matter anyway, even if bel wanted you as her girlfriend she could never truly have it. It was like something you could see but Couldn’t touch. Bel was closed off and lacking in the field of love. Besides you were her safe space, her companion. Her best friend and that’s where you would stay.

The days went by in a blur, Monday was Tuesday and Thursday was Wednesday in Bel’s mind. Her days were jumbled as she began to see news vans line the streets, earlier than even the film crew for the documentary. Bel would laugh when she would see them, old feelings being brought to the surface. Feelings that she tried to stifle.

“More news vans” she mentioned to her dad while bringing the ketchup to the rattling table, her dad eyed her with a sympathetic look. “We'll make do. Trust the process kiddo. As soon as this documentary is done everything will go back to normal I promise bel”.

It was a pretty shitty promise.

As the days went by bel found herself being consumed by her rational thoughts, wondering about so many things that even at school Carter and you had been rather worried.

Bel wasn’t her usual witty sarcastic self, instead, she was quiet, a rage within her that was hushed and dormant. Waiting to be released.

And it found just the right moment on that Friday morning. first of the day had already been set to fail because Bel had gotten up in the morning and forgot to set her alarm. She was late. She didn’t have her morning coffee in the morning due to her tardy and therefore was utterly exhausted. She had gotten her favorite jumper soiled when she had tied the trash outside in the cold weather of the morning. “Stupid bears with a stick up their ass” Bel had mumbled out when she had been notified of the stain by a lovely Carter.

School wasn’t any better. Bel had tried her best to sneak in unannounced and unnoticed but Mr Thripp had noticed her had cornered her after class. So she had been late and had gotten a very mild talking to. By the time lunch had come around, Bel had stalked into the noisy clambering lunch room, taking a seat by Carter who had saved her a seat.

Carter didn't much look at her cousin before she spoke, diluted blue eyes focused on her homework which was being rushed by her frantic wild fingers, her handwriting looking like ink had fallen out of the bottle. Carter was always quick to get her homework done early, on account of the busy dance schedule she had acquired.

Bel allowed her tired eyes to trail down to under the table, her keen price eyes taking into account the way the table shook as Carter's leg shook nervously on the floor, the tight grimace that was undetectable to most but Bel knew Carter like the back of her hand. It was almost scary how well.

In turn so did Carter. "How're you feeling?" Carter asked over the loud noise, pencil still in hand. Bell scoffed, taking a bite of her sandwich. Was it even that apparent that Carter knew? did she know the inner conflict that was swirling in her. The way she hadn't slept well, replaying her father's words in her head, committing them to memory so when her heart and mind were at odds she had his words to take to heart, to know that he would never fail her or give her unkind advice? (even when her heart told her his words were wrong?)

Because maybe, just maybe bel was learning to feel again.

"like shit"

Carter nodded along, humming as if it was normal. "sorry about that Bel, by the way, I need to talk to you about something". The tone in Carter's voice was firm and strong and Bel inwardly groaned. "what?" she snapped.

Carter didn't seem phased, she only eyed Bel with a bored look. "I got an interesting phone call from y/n the other day? She said you haven't been answering her texts? What's that all about?"

Bel laughed, "I didn't answer one text-"

"I saw her phone yesterday when we were working on the campaign at her house it was far more than just one text, but nice try Bel" Carter's eyes were firm as they stared into her cousins. A mixture of annoyance and concern in those icy depths.

END

Thoughts of any? I tried to hunt that Charlie was gaslighting and manipulating Bel into choosing to think of putting of her relationship with reader. I feel like Charlie would feel very uncomfortable knowing that he couldn’t control bel anymore?

[yuwuta]

whenever you and satoru have an argument, he holds your hand and he won’t let go until he’s certain you’re not mad anymore. you’re telling him off because he forgot to unpack the dishwasher again, and he knows that’s his fault and you have a right to be mad but he hates when you’re mad and even worse when you’re mad at him, so he does the first thing that comes to mind and laces your hands together. now you can’t leave and be mad at him alone, you have to be mad at him while he’s connected to you and satoru has learned that that far reduces the amount of time you spend mad at him. getting upset because he led you two in the wrong direction? holding hands until you’ve cooled down. upset with him for being reckless mid-fight? he drops his infinity just to be close to you, holds your hand and tells you the curse can wait, he needs your forgiveness more. mad at him because he forgot something important on his way home? you’re holding hands until you forgive him—which could be all the way until you go to bed, or dragging you by your connected hands with him to the store to pick up what was forgotten. you get irritated with him in public? he’s quick to hold your hands and beg for kisses. sometimes the first years see you steaming and satoru following you like a lovesick puppy, his leash being your laced fingers and megumi just sighs and explain to yuuji and nobara that, “they’re fighting. this is their get along tactic, just leave them be.” 

[deviouz]

. . . mean jason todd !!

jason todd is the type to fuck you so good tears seem to permanently stain your cheeks and leave your skin feeling raw after all is said and done. he’d have your body contorted and folded in, knees pressed firmly against your chest and legs thrown over his broad, scarred up shoulders. he smirks so cruelly as he absolutely destroys your poor cunt, tip of his cock kissing your cervix with every thrust of his hips.

“‘s the matter, pretty girl? you’re crying so pretty for me. got you drunk on my cock, don’t i?”

jason todd is also the type to grab your jaw and dig his fingers into your cheeks, pushing them together and laughing at the embarrassed whines that garble out of your throat. he’ll stare down at you with those pretty eyes of his, his gaze stern and unwavering, hips still snapping away without much thought. you’re practically drowning in pleasure as jason is ever so in tune with your body, what makes you tick.

“you gonna look at me when you come? i don’t want you lookin’ away from me, not even for a second. let me see that pretty face when i make you come on my cock, doll. that’s it, just like that.”

jason todd is just so mean to his pretty girl. he’ll mock your pleas just to make you repeat them loud enough your voice shakes and broken, desperate sobs push past kiss-swollen lips. if you don’t beg just right, he’ll show his thrusts, eyes focused on yours, as he smiles down at you, all sharp and all teeth.

“what was that? don’t think i quite heard you. say it again for me, yeah?”

jason todd will deny you of your release endless times, simply because he can. he gets a giddy joy at seeing how unabashed you can get at the continuous denial of release. you shake and cry and beg and thrash in his grip, but nothing ever seems to persuade him.

“you can come when i say you can, do you understand? now, be a good girl and shut the fuck up and just take it.”

likes + reblogs heavily encouraged and appreciated!!

[14dayswithyou]

Hi, Howdy! Hey! I really love your novel!! I got a little confused by the 4 day, may maybe you help me please? who is it? why we got the bad end staying the night in Ren’s apartment and he disappear of the home screen? I can’t understand “unset memory” game, sorry if I wrote smth wrong or smth sounds rude, I swear that I didn’t mean it if happened, I’m really a fan of the novel, I’ve been playing the game since day 1 or 2 I guess, probably day 1, english isn’t my first language, but I tried lol

⌞♥⌝ I hope you don't mind me answering these as bullet points!! ^^

"It" will be revealed later in the game! So I won't reveal too much right now.

You can only get the Dead End in Day 4 by staying at Ren's apartment — the rest of your choices before that don't matter. I'd also pay closer attention to the black smoke and Ren's reaction towards it!

Ren disappears from the home screen because he promised to help the player out (and stop them from getting the Dead End again). Try replaying the game again from the beginning for a surprise!

"Unsent Memories" was another visual novel (initially being written by @10chimes / @unsentmemory, though the project has since been dropped and handed back to me /pos) and is set in the same universe as 14 Days With You. Its storyline and characters are completely separate from 14DWY, so you don't have to worry about them while playing 14DWY.

[lavendermin]

Please don't leave us hanging from the Jing yuan drabble I'm afraid you awoken something in me (take your time also take good care of yourself 💖💯💯)

If you mean the little drabble of jing yuan being told he’s going to have 8 kids in the future, I have soooo many thoughts I’m trying to put together. He makes me insane, anon 🫠💗💗💗

a continuation based off this post below

cw | pregnancy, breeding kink, fem reader

Needless to say the words linger in his mind for the rest of the day. They play over and over in Jing Yuan’s head. He needs to process them, but what’s there to process?

Coming from the Master Diviner of all people, it was a prominent future she saw. It tells him two things: one, Fu Xuan has been checking up on him (this one is her job actually) and two, he’ll be quite busy with his spouse soon.

How soon? Jing yuan can’t help but wonder. And he didn’t want to pry with Fu Xuan. Best not to give her the upper hand with something to tease him with.

“Something on your mind, love?” Your question brings him out of his pondering. He takes a seat on the couch next to you, a quiet sigh leaving his lips as he sinks into the plush comfort.

“Just a few things I have to do.” His reply is vague and the smug smile he wears makes you raise a brow.

You shuffle over to straddle his thighs, nimble hands working into his tense shoulders.

“A lot of work recently? Will you be busier?”

He chuckles, closing his eyes to relish the attention you give him.

“Mm. Something along those lines.”

“Want me to run a bath for us?”

His hands absentmindedly settle on your hips. “A little later. Haven’t even kissed my wife yet.”

You can’t help but smile with a little roll of your eyes, easily giving in and placing a peck to his lips. It’s chaste and loving—a sincere ‘welcome home’. But as Jing Yuan chases your lips, it’s clear there’s something more he’s after.

You pull away breathless, a string of saliva connecting you both. It’s a little obscene, even for him. “J-Jing–”

He cuts you off as his lips slot over yours again, his tongue pushing into your mouth greedily. This kind of possessiveness was rare with him. It lit a fire in your belly when he got like this. But…

“Jing Yuan– Wait,” you lightly push him off you. His lips continue to feverishly press kisses to your jaw and neck. A sharp gasp leaves you as his hands start to slowly grind you back and forth on his thigh. “L-Love, I’m ovulating. We can’t– It’s too risky.”

It wasn’t like him to be this lost to reason. A rumble akin to a growl leaves him as soon as you mention it. By now your neck is littered in marks he’s sucked to the delicate skin there. Jing Yuan is breathless as he uses all the resolve he has left to stop, his breath hot against your bare chest where he was already pulling down your top.

You can’t help looking at him with concern. In an instant, he looks up at you with composure back under rein. His smile is sweet, devilish as it hides the insatiable hunger that’s growing at an alarming rate.

“All the more reason to make love to my precious wife, wouldn’t you say?”

With the opportunity presented to himself and the tangible future of his wife, lovely and pregnant, he thinks himself a fool not to start now.

You chuckle at first, assuming it’s some of Jing Yuan’s usual teasing. But as his eyes lock with yours, unwavering and pupils blown wide with lust as his arms press you further against his broad body, it dawns on you that he’s completely serious.

“You– We,” you stutter as you feel your core throb with a surge of need. Damn those hormones during your ovulation. In a small, shaky voice you ask, “I thought you said you wanted to wait until you retired… Do you really want to try for a baby?”

There’s a glimmer in your eyes, chest tight with a flood of different emotions. Anticipation, unabashed lust, adoration.

Jing Yuan responds with a chuckle, opting to gently pull your face for a kiss. This one is only a light simmer of the ardent need he has to breed you until dawn.

“If you’re agreeable, of course. There’s a saying from a few star systems down that says life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans. I’ve already made you my wife, I’d love to also make you a mother.”

The bright smile that breaks on your face is all the answer he needs as you pull his face in to litter kisses all over his face, ending by going in for a kiss that leaves him smiling like an idiot. Your idiot.

Jing Yuan has no plans to retire soon, but officially starting his family rejuvenated his resolve to continue as general for a while longer. There was still work to be done to keep the Xianzhou safe and ensure the era of peace continues for his children. He’ll have to thank Fu Xuan later for the slip of her tongue.

And it’s no surprise that making love to you for the next few consecutive days proves fruitful a couple weeks later.

Gossip and rumor spreads fast, especially with Jing Yuan being general of the Luofu. He’s constantly in the eye of the public. Once your tummy starts showing a bit more, he can’t help but stroll around proudly with you by his side—his hand protectively on your belly whenever he can. The people call your pregnancy a sign of abundant good luck, an omen for exceptional good to come in the future. Likewise, Jing Yuan is positively over the moon as a soon-to-be-father.

He can’t wait to hold his twin girls in a few months.

And after that, he can breed you again. And again. And again. It’s in his future, after all.

[kentopedia]

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ IN ALL THE LINES I'VE READ — nanami kento

summary . . . coffee shop meet cute with literature professor nanami <3

contents . . . sfw, written w f!reader in mind, lit prof nanami tehe, fluff, grumpy nanami, reader is a barista, age gap (nanami early 30s, reader early 20s) — 1.4k

notes . . . selfship coded :,,) this is such a random idea from rylie's brain (and drafts) bc i must post something for my most beloved for valentine’s day <33 i have some other ideas for this so let me know if you like it !!!

The first time you meet Nanami Kento, it’s in a dimly lit cafe in your hometown. 

The evening is just dawning upon you, the grey of the dreary sky turning into a muted black. It’s just after 5pm; the sun already fading into the horizon, drizzly rain coating the windows like crystals. 

You’ve been busy all day — it’s always busy on rainy days, when people seem to recall that the ambience of rain pelting outside mixes well with a cup of warm coffee between your palms. The tables are all full, now that people have gotten off work, and it’s a favorite study spot of many students. 

It’s tiring work sometimes, and there are days where you get weary of the same routine. When saving up money seems like a fruitless effort, and you feel like your life should’ve begun already.

But it’s also good to be around people like this… Seeing them laugh and smile, while you only wonder what they’re talking about. The job pays less, but it’s better than being cooped up in a office all day. 

“Hey,” one of the other baristas sets a latte down, a pattern of milk sitting just on top. “Can you run this to the man over there,” she points to a blonde in the corner of the cafe. 

Wordlessly, you take the mug, wiping the drops of coffee that have spilled over the sides of it. The customer had ordered a pastry as well, one of your favorites. There is a small puff of steam wafting off of it, the bottom of the plate still hot.

The man’s back is towards you, facing the window, and he’s bent over a pile of papers. You can’t see his face — but his hair is done up nicely, and his white button-down sleeves are rolled up to his elbow. There’s a nice watch on his wrist, silver and black; one that’s probably more expensive than anything you own.

It’s a balancing act, weaving through the tables with the pastry and mug in hand, and when you get to his, there’s no room to set his order down. Papers are scattered across the table, and there is a stack of well-loved books beside him. A few are titles you recognize, ones you’ve read, ones you own but haven’t gotten to. Some you know only vaguely. 

“Here’s the latte,” you say, distracted, scanning the spines of the books. The man mutters an apology, and moves his papers so that you can set the coffee and plate down. 

He doesn’t look up at you, offering only a dismissive thank you. But the sound goes unnoticed by you; you’re too preoccupied by your excitement. So few people walk in here with with books you’re actually interested in discussing. 

“I’ve been meaning to read that one,” you say, pointing to a title that is on your long list of books to be read. 

He hums — it’s obvious he doesn’t care, and the sound is just one of acknowledgement.

Embarrassment heats your cheeks as you realize this is probably something he gets often. Upon second glance, he’s attractive… breathtakingly so. He probably fends of hoards of woman, ones who use books to gain the key to his heart, even if they’re only pretending to be interested.

“I enjoyed his other books,” you continue, highlighting the ones that you’ve read and love. At least, then, he’ll know you’re not an idiot, even if he stays silent, eyes glued to the paper. 

His pen stops scratching marks into the sheet, but only for a second. Then, he carries on, unimpressed by whatever slim knowledge you’re able to supply. 

“Are you a teacher?” The words leave your lips, once before you can stop yourself.

He doesn’t care. You aren’t sure why you’re even still bothering. 

“Nope,” he replies, finishing up his summarized commentary, scribbled in a penmanship that is something in between messy and elegant. “A professor.” 

“Oh.” You’d thought he was too young to be a professor, but when you look at home closer, there are faint lines around his eyes, ones even more obvious on his forehead. Around thirty, you’d guess. Maybe even older than that. “That’s interesting.”

You should probably leave him alone. He’s busy, and you’re supposed to be working, and he probably thinks you’re a child, the way you’re talking to him like a brick wall. Yet, there is something about him that keeps you glued to your spot, so intrigued by the stack of novels and the way his hand flexes around the pen. 

“Is it?” There is a hint of irritation in his voice when he finally glances up at you from under the round, wire-rimmed glasses, perched on the bridge of his nose. The pen drops onto the table with a soft click. “Because, I find that—”

His lips part. Whatever he was going to say next seems to die, abruptly cut off, and he blinks at you. Two dark eyes scan your face with a hint of surprise. 

You’re cheeks warm, and you suddenly feel uncomfortable. It’s not typical of you to make conversation with strangers, and you’re certain he notices how awkwardly you’re standing. 

“I’m sorry,” you say, clearing your throat, and pointedly ignoring the lump in it. His silhouette had been striking enough, but it’s nothing compared to the entirety of his face. He’s beautiful — like he’s stepped right out of the pages of a novel himself. He feels like everything you’ve ever wanted, with his stack of books and piercing irises. “I’ll let you get back to grading.” 

“No need to apologize.” The tone shifts a bit, his voice not as rough. Maybe you’re just delusional, but his eyes appear to soften. “I’m almost done, anyway.” 

You nod, and a little smile pulls onto your face. It’s not quite true; the stack of ungraded papers is twice as large as the ones he’s finished. “Well, I should … Get back to work. Enjoy the coffee.” 

He smiles, amused; your heart flips, then sinks all the way down to your stomach, pounding. “Alright. Thank you.”

“Have a good night!” you say, far too quickly, before turning on your heels. Your hands are sweating, and you hope he never comes in again, because you’re not sure that you can stand the embarrassment you feel. 

The blonde professor, name unknown, lets you go, and you slink off to hide in the kitchen, cursing yourself for acting like a fool. With hot cheeks, you down a glass of water, big gulps from your shaking hands, and glare at your co-worker when she grins to herself. 

Thirty minutes later, your shift ends, and the professor has made his way out the door, walking down the sidewalk. As you leave the cafe, your bag over your shoulder and hair undone, you notice that he left one of his novels, the one you’d pointed out to him in the beginning of your conversation. 

You rush out to stop him, carrying the book with you. “Hey,” you shout, waving it to the stranger. “You left this.” 

He glances over his shoulders, bundled up in a coat to combat the brisk air. There’s a redness on his cheeks from the cold, a hint of a smile on his lips. “I know,” he says, hands firmly tucked in his pockets. “You can keep it.” 

“But—” you start, swallowing as the pages rustle with the wind, the cover snapping open. 

“You wanted to read it, didn’t you?” he shrugs. “I’ve got lots of copies. You can give it back to me when you finish.” 

You start to question him, but he’s already turned around, heading away. 

Which means he’ll be back, won’t it? You haven’t scared him away completely. 

You shout something at him, and turns, just halfway, making a face that tells you he didn’t hear you.

“That’s my name,” you say again, repeating it, licking your lips. Your only hope is that he’ll offer his. 

But he doesn’t — he keeps walking down the sidewalk, before he answers a phone call, and crosses the street.

Unsurprising.  

You sigh, gaze dropping down to the book. The pages are filled and filled with his handwriting, notes in the margins, highlights and lines across the words. So much thought had been put into it, that you wonder how many times he’s read this book, if maybe, it’s a favorite. 

The wind flicks the cover back to the front title page, the publisher underneath. In the top right hand corner, Nanami Kento is smoothly written. As if he’d wanted you to discover it yourself, instead of hearing it from his lips.

You trace it, and smile. 

[yesandpeeps]

may i request art of aether and swiss? :3

Their asses are NOT listening‼️

[lcs-scar]

I request jer content…

And you shall receive!

[offorestsongs]

i feel like sometimes people in the twst fandom get so caught up in defending their faves (or hating on the ones they don't like) that they forget that the whole game hinges on (almost) everyone being a Charming Asshole TM

[gothcsz]

I guess neighbour reader hears Javi having sex…she feels bad because she’s enjoying it.

*sighs and opens notes app* no but seriously, i would be jealous tooooo. javier mi amor por favor—pick me, choose me, love meeee! 😭 [ masterlist ]

You lie there, staring at the ceiling, willing yourself to fall asleep, but the sounds from the other side of the wall make it impossible.

The rhythmic thumps of Javier’s headboard seem to shake your bedroom, each one vibrating through the wall like a taunt, while the high-pitched whimpers of the woman with him grate your nerves.

His deep grunts are unmistakable, rumbling with effort and pleasure, so clear it’s like you’re right there in the room with them.

You squeeze your eyes shut, feeling a heavy weight in your chest, a painful jealousy twisting inside you. It should be you, shouldn’t it? The thought clings to your mind like a thorn, sharp and stinging. But no, it’s not you in there—it’s some nameless girl getting what you’ve only fantasized about.

Despite the jealousy and the ache in your heart, you can’t deny the throbbing between your legs. The heat pooling in your lower belly intensifies with every thud, every sound of pleasure coming from his bedroom.

You groan into your pillow, feeling pathetic, desperate, for the way your body is responding. Why is this turning you on so much?

You try to will your arousal away. But it’s useless. The sounds get louder, more insistent, and your mind starts to betray you, conjuring images that you can’t shake. It’s not her with him anymore—it’s you.

You imagine Javier’s rough, calloused hands running over your skin, gripping your thighs, squeezing them as he spreads you wider for him. You picture the intensity in his eyes, the desperation in his touch as he fucks you like he can’t help himself, like he’d lose his mind if he didn’t have you.

You can practically feel the heat of his body against yours, his weight pressing you down into the mattress, his breath hot against your neck as he moves inside you.

Your thighs press together, trying to relieve the tension that’s building there, but it only makes the throbbing worse. You bite down on your bottom lip, hard enough to sting, as the sounds from the other side of the wall grow more frantic.

You know you shouldn’t, but your hand drifts down beneath the covers, sliding between your legs. This can be your little secret, the one you’ll wallow in shame for later.

It’s not like Javier will ever know that you’re touching yourself to the sound of him pleasing another woman.

It’s pitiful, you think, but right now, you don’t care. You just need to take care of the pressure, to chase the release that’s been building not only with every sound and bang of his headboard; but also from your growing feelings for Javier.

Your fingers dip lower, running your finger down the wet seam of your cunt and you gasp quietly, your body already on edge from the fantasy you’ve built in your mind. You can almost hear his voice in your ear, whispering dirty, sweet things, telling you how good you feel, how badly he needs you.

Your legs spreader as you begin to rub and flick at your clit, back arching as more of your arousal leaks out of your pussy, your nipples pebbling from how turned on you are.

Your eyes squeeze shut as two of your slick and sticky fingers dip inside, curling to brush at that one spot that makes you tremble. Your breathing comes out more shallow, a thin layer of sweat clinging to your skin.

You imagine what it would be like to have his larger fingers pumping in and out of you—how amazing his tongue would feel swirling around your clit before he sucks it between his lips.

And as the sounds from his bedroom reach their peak, so do you, your body vibrating as you give in to your orgasm , biting down on your lip to muffle the soft moan that escapes you.

When it’s over, you lie there, panting softly, staring at the ceiling with a mix of shame and satisfaction blending in your chest.

The sounds from the other side of the wall have faded now, but the memory of what just happened lingers.

You’ll regret it in the morning, but for now, you let yourself bask in the afterglow, even if it’s tainted with the ache of knowing it wasn’t really him and it never will be.

[thekiltongrammarwriter]

For my 💌 anon…part 3 is in the works….🤭

[punkeropercyjackson]

How to best design the Batkids

Dick:Pick a romani etchnic subgroup and fly off that,wolfcut and dress transgender(in which direction is irrelevant,Dick Grayson is like Link)

Jason:Afrolatino punk dilf who's visibly autistic(if he can't pass for Percy Jackson you're doing it wrong)

Tim:Biracial swag,ska punk and nonthreatning goofy friend vibes

Cass:Chinese features,butch as fuck and big naturals but from estrogen instead of dudebro shit

Stephanie:Darkskin jamaican-korean,pastel punk and fat flat queen because us small tiddied femmes deserve rep

Duke:Faggy ass black punk dude with dreads(He's literally og Hobie Brown)

Damian:Arab-chinese slay,shortie and undoubtable gender fuckery

[14dayswithyou]

Howdy howdy Saint ^^ Get this, Olivia and angel, enemies to lovers. They fight over Ren (or Teo 😋), but it's ok because they just make out in the end!!

Is this in character or no...

cw: Angel puts on gloss in this drabble (they're testin out Kiara's new makeup products), but it's still gender neutral and nondescript!!

Also... Not much enemies to lovers goin on here because I got impatient writing my own build up sgshjghjsjh

"Hmph. I did not get all dressed up just to be ignored like this."

With a slight pout, Olivia slouches against the reception desk and stomps her foot. Her eyes hadn't left Teo and Elanor's figures the moment she walked into the library — that is until you stepped out from the employee's lounge with a new tester product from Kiara in your hands.

Almost immediately, Olivia turns her attention towards you as she slams her hands on the counter in excitement.

"And you... That gloss looks way too good on you to go to waste!" You don't miss the way she eyes your lips curiously. The scowl on her face could've been mistaken for resentment, though her next words only seemed to contradict everything. "Wait... I know that tint— Is it Creston and Co? ...Could I try some? Please!"

With a grin, you gently cup Olivia's chin and lean in. Her eyes widen at your sudden proximity and a small gasp leaves her lips — clearly, she wasn't expecting you to do that — though she doesn't seem to move away. In fact, Olivia only seems to lean closer... Close enough to stand on her tip-toes and press her plush lips against yours.

Something sweet melds with the taste of your own fruity gloss, and you find yourself leaning in for more. Olivia happily obliges, tilting her head to the side with practised ease and gently reaching out to bury her hands in the front of your jacket.

The kiss deepens the moment you feel something warm against your lips, and just as you are about to reciprocate, you hear a deep grumble of someone clearing their throat behind you.

Conan.

Flushed, you pull back almost immediately while Olivia sends you an impish smile. You don't dare to look behind you, though you somehow know that Conan has already retreated into the very same staff lounge you emerged from previously.

"Hehe! Thanks for that!" With Teo now long forgotten, Olivia grabs one of your hands and gives it a gentle squeeze. "Hey... Wanna head to the pier after your shift? I think I'd like your attention all to myself now."

[lavendermin]

Drunk Jing Yuan doing something to my brain cause imagine when he was still a lieutenant (around young adult and still reach HCQ era I believe) but imagine how loose he is compared to our current general, he certainly have a different tolerance effect

Young lieutenant jing yuan who is getting a little too drunk and is blindly letting his heart slip past infatuation. Living life too fast, too foolishly, with a heart almost freshly squeezed of its naïveté.

When he’s drunk he thinks he could be in love. You’d be the perfect victim—so kind and trustworthy. The idea of having a tender little romance with an elder healer’s apprentice is tantalizing indeed.

You haven’t drank all night despite being generously dragged along by your master to a friendly gathering of prominent figures. And though Jing Yuan is familiar with these faces, it’s clear you are not.

cw | alcohol, fluff

Alcohol or not, he can’t bear to see you look so uncomfortable—like a lost little lamb. When you excuse yourself quietly to take a quick walk around the gardens, he follows suit. The false moons are high in the Luofu’s sky, listening to your quiet woes beside sleeping blooms.

Though the alcohol is prominent in his system, his footing is steady as he makes his way to you sitting by a small pond.

“Sit.” Your command catches him a little off guard. “Before you make yourself a fool if you fall in the water.”

“Not the most common greeting I’ve had the pleasure of receiving, but it’s not distasteful,” Jing Yuan chuckles as he takes a seat next to you.

Your eyes widen, a deep-set panic quickly flashing in different stages on your features.

“L-Lieutenant– I wasn’t aware it was you, I swear!”

“Quite alright. And you’d be right. I am quite drunk, I’ll admit.”

There’s still hesitation, given your rigid posture in his presence. It’s sweet how hard you try to please, but these small cracks in your front are all the more endearing. Some sense of a more natural you.

You sigh, something bone-deep and exhausted. “Apologies, lieutenant. I’m just quite used to the strong smell of alcohol from the many that stop by the apothecary for remedies in the morning after a night of reckless drinking. Master is no different. I meant no offense I just… thought it was master coming for that same remedy as well.”

He laughs at this, a little too loose as the alcohol begins to work its way through his system. Everything moves so quickly and you seem so far away despite being right next to him.

“Quite impressive for the elder healer to depend on his apprentice for such important remedies,” he complements. It makes your hands fidget in your lap, clearly not used to the attention. Always working from the shadows.

“It’s really nothing spectacular. You’re much too kind.” He makes you nervous. In a good way.

It’s so easy for him to want more of you. A splendid respite.

He’s sure he’s smiling stupidly at you, his head resting on his palm as he sits rather lax. The alcohol bids him not to care.

“I’m quite fond of you, if you’ve noticed,” he admits quietly. A bit too forward as the drinks begin to talk.

His words make your face burn hot.

“Surely you’ve had far too much to drink,” you squeak as he slumps against you. Warm and much, much bigger than you. Your hand is immediately on his face, cool and soft where the alcohol warms his cheeks. “How much did you have? Come, quickly. I’ll prepare you a remedy. What if you have alcohol poisoning? Can you walk?”

Jing Yuan follows obediently as you drag him by the arm, walking perfectly fine as you fuss over whether he feels like he may pass out or worse.

“Sit, please,” you motion to the small bench by your bedside.

“Quite the prepared one, aren’t you,” he comments as he watches you quickly run to and fro gathering the ingredients you packed for this small trip. The room is only slightly spinning.

You’re rambling and giving a light scolding, deep in concentration, when he quickly pulls you by the waist. Close. Too close.

Your breath is in your throat, heart beating loudly in your ears. “Lieutenant, you shouldn’t be standing. You need to–”

Before you can finish, his finger is gently on your lips to quiet your nerves. A gentle thing as he sways you both subtly in his hold, your body slowly releasing tension.

“This will pass. What I need,” he presses a chaste kiss upon your temple, “is you.”

[your-mommy-ems]

who are some of your favourite mutuals?

ohhh hmm ok ok i have a few lol

@midiosaamor, @nqds, @reminiscentreader, @xo-zozo - my og girls (there are others but they're not online anymore :((

@a-beautiful-fool, @svnflowermoon, @runwiththerain, @lost-in-reveriie, +

@pinkwinesupernovas, @loveyou-imsorry, @thepaladinstrait - the discord server gang ilysm <33

@maybxlle - the loml the moon, to my sun love u pooks

@gentlehue, @ssparksflyy, @hiya-itsamber, @feerique, @skeelly - some of the best people ive met on this site <33

i have so so soooo many more but these are the first people who come to mind!!

[bookofbonbon]

❤🔥The Burning Hearts of Twin Dragons🔥 ❤

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Twin Sister!OC.

A/N: I went back and forth about whether to make them twins or not but, decided fuck it they're going to be twins. I am also so sorry for the 1+ year delay.

Description:

Twins were not a rare occurrence under House Targaryen. 

As it stood there were three sets under the Great House.

Lady Baela & Lady Rhaena of Prince Daemon & Lady Laena. Prince Jaehaerys & Princess Jaehaera of Prince Aegon II & Princess Helaena. Prince Aemond and Princess Aemma of King Viserys and Queen Alicent.

Unnaturally close from birth, the dragon twins had only ever seen one another as each other's other half, one soul dwelling in two bodies, one never to be seen without the other close by; the hot-tempered and unforgiving Prince harboring a feral possessiveness over his kind-hearted and mischievous twin sister that only seemed to grow with age. A feral possessiveness that the young Princess reveled in and used to her advantage much to the horror of their mother which would ultimately lead to their separation.

The existence of the youngest daughter of King Viserys would soon fade to the back of the people's minds. Like his youngest son, Prince Daeron, who had been sent to be with the Queen’s side of the family in Oldtown under Lord Ormund Hightower; the King's youngest daughter would be sent to live with his eldest daughter, the Princess Rhaenyra on Dragonstone at 12.

Many would forget her but not Aemond. Over several years, Aemond’s pleas for his twin sister's return would fall on deaf ears; many a fight had over the matter and many a time the young Prince turned away from Dragonstone in his attempts to bring her back and when the war eventually broke, the young Princess remained on Dragonstone.

Prince Aemond Targaryen would fight the war for the Iron Throne not out of a sense of duty or commitment to his King-brother and their family but for the return of his beloved twin sister to his side - the kinslayer more than willing to burn all of House Targaryen down to get her back.

-

Apart of: Send me a title and I'll come up with a description to match it.

[closed]

All fics are my own work - I have not posted my work anywhere else.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters/places mentioned above.

Do not copy. Do not translate. Do not repost.

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