#milk - regular. chilled

[l0stw00d]

Also yeah uh I have a friend coming over but like, this is a Grown Up friend that I made as an Adult. And I'm the only person home. So suddenly this is less "bringing a friend round after school" and more "welcome to my humble home :) I am a human person who Lives Here :)" and let me tell you I am overthinking this in like. 8 different directions

[nightingale-prompts]

Just your average coffee shop AU-DCxDP prompt

What do you do when you've been blacklisted from every coffee chain in Gotham?

You have to find other sources.

That is Tim's current predicament but he put out a few messages out and an informant got back to him about a new café that opened on the outskirts of the city.

There wasn't much else on it other than the fact that it was located in an old cemetery. No details or anything.

Desperate for the black icker that made up his blood by this point Tim went.

Walking down the cobblestone path Tim began to doubt if the shop was real. The decrepit tombstones seemed to be the only people here but as he passed the mausoleums he saw a single stone crypt that had a sign.

Hours:

Tues-Saturday 12pm-3:00 am

Sunday: All day

Mon: Closed

(Vlad Masters is banned)

Tim opened the stone door and heard the faint sound of violins and saxophones. A staircase led deeper to an aged wooden door.

The rusty door henge screeched as he opened the door like a doorbell. The room was a lounge with plush seats and smooth wood tables. A dance floor was in the center currently occupied by well dressed patrons. The scent of fresh dark roast coffee filled the air. A band played live music, it was a blend of gothic folk and Jazz. The booths were filled with a few patrons cheering for the performers as they drank coffee and played cards.

The counter where he could order his drink was a bar. Despite what you'd assume they weren't selling alcohol at least not yet. The man behind the counter beckoned him over.

The barista dressed in a white dress shirt and a black buttoned vest embroidered with a ribcage design. He had fingerless gloves with matching skeletal hand design. The man's face was a pale bit warm tone with a blueish green hue on his cheekbones. His lips were a dark ashen black with a subtle shine. It was probably just the aesthetic.

"Evening, traveler." His voice practically purred as he greeted the weary young man"The rhythm's alive, and the spirits are waiting—how can I make your afterlife?"

"Coffee. Black." Tim said gruffly despite to get it in his system.

"Oh, you got it bad, don't you? Let me get you something that will actually help." The bartender said turning to brew a cup.

Tim's eyes scanned the chalkboard menu that hung above the bar.

Hot Coffee Drinks:

Graveyard Brew – A rich dark roast with a hint of smoked caramel. (Tucker's pick)

Phantom Flat White – A smooth flat white with ghostly foam art. (Danny's pick)

Latté of the Damned– A spiced pumpkin latte with black cinnamon dust. (Jazz's pick)

Eternal Espresso– A bold, double-shot espresso.

The Velvet Casket – Mocha with dark chocolate and a touch of vanilla.

Sepulcher Spice – Chai-spiced coffee with a hint of nutmeg. (Val's pick)

Necromancer’s Nitro – Nitro cold brew with a dash of maple syrup. (Dan's pick)

Iced Coffee Drinks:

Cold-Brew Crypt– Smooth cold brew with a splash of sweet cream.

Chilled Cadaver– Iced coffee with coconut milk and a shot of hazelnut. (Dani's pick)

The Frosted Requiem – Blended mocha with chocolate drizzle.

Soulful Swirl– Iced latte with caramel and a swirl of blackcurrant syrup.

Moonlit Macchiato– Vanilla macchiato with activated charcoal. (Sam's pick)

Tim definitely sensed a theme here.

"I added a few shots of expresso and some dark chocolate liquor. It should get you right and some minor heart palpitations. I think I'll call it 'The Black Veil'." The barista smiled very cat-like.

"Am I getting my name on the board?" Tim quipped without thinking as he sipped the hot coffee. Actually, it was cooler than he thought it would be. It was the perfect temperature. And the taste was amazing.

"Only if you're a regular and I think your drink might be too much for anyone else." The barista laughed softly.

"So...this place is pretty um...gothic?"

"This place used to be just for the dead but we've recently over up to the living."

"Heh, I get it."

"Get what?"

Tim coughed awkwardly. He didn't want to stop talking to the goth barista yet and the quality coffee was convincing. Maybe it was the environment. It was like walking into a different world.

"So what's this place called? So I know what Im coming back to." Tim tried to sound cool but let's face it, he's been beat.

"This is the Catacomb Club. Where the spirits swing and the night never sleeps. You should come again soon, cutie. I think I got a good surge of inspiration just looking at you." He purred in delight as he leaned over the bar tapped Tim's cheek.

Tim felt his face burn, the touch felt like electricity tickling his skin. A string of babbling seemed to come out of this mouth as he tried to respond.

"Heh heh, don't keep me waiting dear," he laughed "Oh, and by the way. My name is Danny. Catch me in the early shift. My brother works the late shift mixing the alcohol. But if you want you can catch me on the stage or on the dance floor. I might even make you an extra cup or two." Danny said.

Tim found his footsteps on the way up lighter and only when he made it back the cematary gate did he notice.

He never paid.

[norikuna]

going to a cafe with the jujutsu kaisen men a/n: (based on irl experience with a wide variety of subpar men) 😭 gojo's order being my order...aurkay!

gojo — def the type to walk in and push his sunglasses down to check out the place. his order def goes something like a venti caramel macchiato with almond milk, two pumps of vanilla and two pumps of hazelnut, and a little caramel swirl at the top. smiles and is friendly to all the baristas, he's never rude to workers. tells the barista is gojo, with an o. whoever's unfortunate enough to be stuck next to him is doomed to hear him wax poetic about how coffee beans are the soul of the earth, and its 'really deep, you wouldn't get it lol'. if you order a black coffee, he'll ask if everything is okay at home. can't leave the cafe without ordering a $8.00 sweet treat and then wondering why all his purchases are adding up

geto — walks in as if he's a regular and tells the barista that he'll have his 'regular'. the barista has never seen him before. probably orders a flat white, double shot of espresso, no foam. he always says he doesn't have to pretend to like foam because he's chill like that. he'll ask for the wifi password, but only so he can show off how good he is at working in a cafe, but his ass is on coolmathsgames. will nod and pretend to care about whatever you're saying but he's still thinking about coolmathsgames. will also drop random metaphors like 'life is just like coffee. you either take it strong or with sugar.' you tell him to save the bad metaphors for his cult.

nanami — doesn't wander or hesitate when he enters the cafe. checks his watch every five minute. orders a black coffe, medium, and adds one packet of sugar. he's pretty good at ordering what he wants efficiently, and it leaves even the barista worried. he's here to relax so don't ask him any unnecessary question because this man needs a break. actually enjoys eavesdropping on people's conversations, and ends up tilting his angle to snoop on gossip better. avoids small talk like its another curse. you can't really make him react too much in a cafe, unless you spill coffee on his freshly pressed suit. will be passive aggressive and suggest that the cafe chooses better music. likes a good, dependable pastry. apple danishes are a favourite.

sukuna — prefers tea, without debate. but still orders relatively normal things. likes a good latte with chocolate syrup. but the king of curses kinda has to look cool, so he powers his way through a black coffee, with no sugar or milk. you swear his eyes are tearing up as he pretends to like it. after every sip of coffee, he sighs really loudly and it gets a bit annoying. even after you ask what's wrong, he says its nothing and continues to sigh loudly. nanami may be the one who eavesdrops, but sukuna is the one who interferes. will turn around in his chair to give unsolicited advice, but he genuinely thinks he's being helpful by telling schoolgirls to buy cleavers to chop their friends' hands off. is mildly offended when they move tables and give him weird looks. passes loud comments on other people and tells couples when he thinks they will breakup. attempts to connect to the wifi three times before threatening to burn the router.

toji — the barista asks if he wants a pastry with his drink and he asks 'do i look like the type of man to eat a muffin?' but if they're free, he'll take two. sits with his back to the wall like he's in a mob movie. god help anyone who sits too close to him, he really just doesn't trust anyone in his personal space. doesn't even acknowledge the existence of others until he's had at least three sips of his coffee. you could tell him his house is on fire, and he’d just mutter that he can't do anything about it now. types the wifi password on his phone with one finger like a caveman. tells parents to 'control their spawn' but entertains kids with coin tricks when no-one is looking. sometimes struggles to fit the lid on his go-to cup, and refuses to asks for help. wrestles with it for five minutes, getting increasingly annoyed before rushing out the door.

choso (this one is dedicated to pookie @creamflix) — frowns at the menu like it's written in an ancient language, like wtf is affogato. if someone behinds him coughs, he scolds them and says he's going as fast as he cans. spends 10 minutes deciding and then panics at the last second, tells the barista to give him whatever. if the barista asks any follow up questions (like milk preferences) he genuinely short circuits, "what kinds of milk are there?" he's genuinely baffled that there are options beyond 'cow.' he'll point at a pastry and ask what's in it. the barista explains and he replies with 'okay i trust you.' always ends up picking a wobbly table by accident and spends 15 minutes trying to fix it with folded napkins. if someone asks to share his table, he'll look like they just asked for his kidneys. if someone asks for his opinion on his pastry, its always a dumbass cryptic answer like 'its interesting.' uses his phone on full brightness and everyone can see him look up 'how to pronounce cafe au lait.' cleans up after himself because he's nice like that. if the staff get his order wrong, he never says anything even if it tastes like dirt.

[evilgwrl]

Neighbour!Simon Riley x Reader

Girl Next Door (Seven)

CW: Jealous Simon, oral sex (m receiving), cum swallowing, praise, bit of spanking

Previous Chapter, Next Chapter

The morning air was gentle, a soft ray cast through an open window, blinds not shut. The tickle of hair brushed against your stomach, the scent of cotton and whiskey brushing past your ear as your eyes fluttered open.

Simon was warm, the pudge of his belly radiating against your back. You stirred, a soft groan leaving your head as your brain racked, throbbing with an arrogant hangover. Your body was compliant, sticking to the sheets as you wriggled, a quick hand grabbing at your waist.

“Stop wriggling like that,” Simon snapped, voice tense with slumber.

“It’s how I wake up,” you yawned, pressing at the static in your eyes as he laughed against the back of your neck.

“It’s waking me up too,” the evident hardness of his boner flushed against your ass. Your face stilled, movements stopping as you squeaked out an apology.

There was a gentle tick from cicadas outside as you walked into the garden, the bristle of hot air against your bare thighs as you nestled a cup of coffee into your palms. The flowers were bright, transcendent colours flickering across a simple green as you rested against a porch chair.

The English air was a windless ruin, the scent of the sun blazing against wood filling the air as you shielded your eyes, treading along grass as your hands tipped a metal can of water onto the flora.

“Gardens nice,” a voice said.

Simon’s hips hung low with a towel, distinct V-line disposing into the cotton as a delicate trail of hair followed. You swallowed, visibly.

“Thank you,” you gawked, eyes slightly wide as you breathed in the image of him, iris’ soaked in arousal.

“You want to grab breakfast?”

“And they call him Soap?” You giggle, mouth crinkling as your eyes closed, squinting as Simon explained his task force to you, or the men you indecently exposed.

“Gave it to ‘em because of how fast he cleans out a room.”

“And why do they call you Ghost?”

The name was strange leaving your mouth, the foreignness of someone so different to the military speaking it sending a chill through him as he maintained composure.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

The café was bustling, the bricks stacked with corny quotes and pictures of regulars, the mint counter littered with coffee grounds and spilt milk. Eyes wandered on the bulky man next to you, but he didn’t pay attention, simply watching you as you spilled workplace secrets.

The croissant you were scoffing down crumby as it collected on the side of your lips, the tickle of pastry paying you no mind as you rambled. Simon took in the way your eyes darted back and forth when you spoke too much and the way your hands displayed actions when you wanted to emphasise something.

He noticed how your nose twitched slightly as you sucked in deeper breaths than normal, and he noticed the light fluster of blush across your cheek when he gazed at you.

You scrunched your brows together as he looked at your lips, his own creasing up slightly with amusement.

“What?” You said, confused before a calloused thumb reached out and rubbed at the side of your lip, speckles of crumbs falling from your face as you groaned.

“I had food on my face the whole time and you didn’t tell me?”

“Didn’t wan’ interrupt your gossip session.”

The environment felt stagnant apart from the two of you, his thumb still pressed against your cheek with a light pressure, umber eyes seeping through his sockets as he memorised every crease of your skin. His ears hissed with a monotone ring, too focused on the speckles of shade that fell between your facial apertures.

“You’re-“

“Y/N?”

The voice was familiar, yet foggy, an immediate sense of dread running through you as you stared at Louis, his body clad with a flannel shirt and scuffed-up jeans. His face was bright with a smile, arms wide as you stood, awkwardly waving.

“You ran off too fast last night,” he prattled, wrapping his arms around your waist as he pulled you flush against him. You pulled away in an abhorrent manner, turning around to face Simon, a scowl crossing his face.

“Had to deal with something,” you muttered as Simon raised from his seat, towering over the pair of you as he cleared his throat.

“Ah- sorry mate, you must be?” Louis yakked, his chest puffing slightly as he faced the larger man.

Simon nearly scoffed into the air, “Simon.”

“It was nice seeing you, Louis,” you smiled, lips tight as you grabbed at your neighbour’s wrist gently.

“Before you go,” he jerked, grabbing onto your shoulder softly, “I was wondering if you wanted to go out again, y’know, us two?”

“I don’-“

“She’s fine.” Simon’s voice was sharp, every syllable cutting through the thickening tension, barely visible cloud of discomfort clouding around your table as you excused the both of you, mingled bodies hustling out of the crowded corner store.

Your smile was amused, shoving at the muscle of his bicep, “She’s fine?”

The look from the Lieutenant was dirty but playful, almost tempting you to argue with him, luring more of his possessive words out, “Don’t need another man eating the pussy I ate, do I?”

The words rolled from his tongue in a motion of filth as you slapped his chest, a boyish laugh sounding from him as he opened the car door for you. The drive home was windy, the usual speckle of trees greeting you as his long fingers wrapped around the stick shift as he focused on the hardened tar before him.

Your thighs, covered by a gentle sundress, were wet, a combination of arousal and sweat leaking from your panties as an evident dark patch pressed against your heat as you shifted uncomfortably. Horny eyes glanced down to his jeans, an evident strain bulging close to his zipper as you swallowed.

Tantalising fingers stroked the flesh of his arm gently as he smiled at you before they fell onto his lap, groping lightly at the hardness of his thighs, a slow trail teasing his crotch as he coughed.

“What are you doing, sweet’art?” His voice tight.

“Returning the favour.” The jerk of his car was immediate, hazards flickering in the distance as he pulled down an emptier road, dirt skidding against the tyres as he halted.

Your fingers were quick as they unzipped his pants, his hands swatting yours away as he pulled them down, large curvature poking through his briefs, precum soaking across the tip as you kissed your teeth.

Your hand was quick to grab at his erection, letting the intimidating length rest in your palms as you watched him through hooded eyes. He was quick to rid his undergarments, healthy cock springing out as it slapped against gentle curls.

The head was flushed a light red, pearly silk collecting as you swiped a thumb across it, a gentle hiss leaving his lips. Your mouth was quick to lean down, a glob of spit landing on his shaft as your hands worked against his cock with a smooth pace, gentle groans eliciting from him.

Your mouth was warm, bathing him in instant pleasure as full lips suckled at the tip, tongue running along his member with ease as you welcomed him down your throat.

Simon’s fingers wrapped around your hair, working it into a messy ponytail as he bucked upwards, a choke sounding from your stuffed throat.

Your ass was flushed in the air as he leaned his chair back, dress pooling around your tummy as the fabric fell down the plushness of your thighs.

“Good fucking girl, so good at taking me, ain’t you? Bet this is nearly as nice as your pretty pussy.”

His words spurred you on, your mouth working faster along his dick as you held a tight grip on the remainder, another hand grabbing gently at heavy balls as he delivered a harsh spank to your exposed ass, panties wedged into the puffy lips of your pussy as you whined against him.

“Gonna fill this pretty mouth up, fuck- take you as mine. You gonna let me do that, baby?”

You nodded against him, cheeks hollowed around him as you traced a thick vein, earning a deep groan from him.

The windows fogged, dirty evidence surrounding the car as you gagged, slobbering down him as you hummed, feeding him down your mouth that would no doubt bruise later.

His hand was groping at your flesh, watching the way it melted into his palm with every slap, tender flesh jiggling against him. It was a sight for sore eyes as he guided you along his length.

His balls were taunt, desperate to release as you continued your pleasurable torment. “This mouth was made for me- Jesus Christ-“

With a final gag down his cock he was coming, your mouth rushed with the taste of tangy salt, a loud moan purring through his chest as you swallowed, pulling up with a pant as your tear-streaked eyes fluttered up at him.

“Fucking beautiful, ain’t you?”

[thebibliosphere]

hey, we’re home. Had a great vacation.

Holly Mop had a great time and is now a lake dog. She was in heaven out on the boat with the wind in her ears. Also, I only got mildly sunburned and it didn't trigger an MCAS flare so 👍

Also!! I tried several new foods and was fine!!

White chocolate seems to be okay now so long as it's very small doses and not on an empty stomach. And I had gluten-free cornflakes yesterday with regular dairy milk and didn't immediately end up in agony, covered in hives so I think the stuff the GI dr recommend is working!

Trying to be chill and calm about this but also :3!!!!

Anyway. Time to fix my life, lmao.

[philistiniphagottini]

Passion Flower and Rice Milk

A/N: Thank you to everyone who read the first chapter and reblogged it with nice tags and/or left nice comments. I really, really appreciate the support you have shown this story. I'm very happy and thrilled to keep posting chapters. Comments and reblogs would be very greatly appreciated if you wanna see more ^-^ Thanks again for reading, hope you enjoy

Summary: It's been two weeks since you've seen Dan Feng. And, you get an unexpected visitor in your garden.

cw. mutual pining, friends to lovers, a/b/o inspired but not an omegaverse, adult themes, female reader, chubby reader, vidyadhara reader, minors DO NOT interact

Previous Chapter

If you would like to read more, the rest will be uploaded to my A03

Chapter 2

It had been two weeks since you had seen Dan Feng. The last thing you remember was fleeing his garden in such a hurry you almost tripped over your own feet. You felt awful for the way you had abruptly departed, the memories replaying over and over in your head, taunting you into the late hours of the evening. It made you feel sick. You had been on the cusp of telling Dan Feng what was wrong, it was your intention on that day to spill everything. But you got scared. You were terrified to take a risk out of fear of his rejection. And so, for the past two weeks you hid like a coward and hoped to weather this unrelenting storm by yourself. Like you had always done, like the elders of your clan told you to do. It was just simpler to take your medicine, to suppress your natural urges, no matter how much it would cause you to suffer in the end, and not be a burden to others. Act like you were expected to act, the way you were taught and conditioned. And like the dumb, little girl that still craved the love and attention from neglectful parents, you obliged hoping to gain even a shred of approval.

You have been miserable without Dan Feng’s company. You refused to go see him. You were forbidden to leave. You sulked around your quarters and your estate. Your thoughts were a mess. Your emotions weren’t faring any better either. The maids and servants of the estate were ordered to stay out of your way but to remain vigilant and keep an eye on you. Not by your words. Your clan's elders. Every time you thought of them you could taste something horrible and acidic on the back of your tongue. You were moody. Your stomach hurt. Your feet ached. You were uncomfortable in your regular attire, the fabric sticking awkwardly to your skin as your back dotted with beads of sweat. You turned your nose up in the air at the sticky grossness. You tried to tend to the flowers in your garden, hoping the sweet scent of perfume would help clear your head and keep you occupied. It didn’t work. The smell you usually loved made you feel nauseous and burned every time you took a ragged breath. 

It was only midday, but you were about to pack it in for the day. You had been getting terrible sleep at night anyway and you had resorted to napping during the day to make up for it. You couldn’t tell if the rumble in your stomach was because you hadn’t eaten or because the thought of food was too taxing. You stood from your kneeling position next to your flower bed, brushing off the dirt from your robes as your hair softly fluttered in the breeze. The cool wind was a small comfort against your heated, golden scales, your tail swishing elegantly from side to side as the fur fluffed up in the breeze. The soft, silk shawl wrapped around your shoulders slipped when you fussed and you coiled it tighter around your neck so you wouldn't lose it. It was a gift, from Dan Feng. He had presented it to you only a few moons ago, wrapping the fine silk around your shoulders to warm you from the chill, night air. You had graciously accepted, the commodity of receiving a heartfelt gift a rare occasion that brightened your smile. Every time you pinched the fabric between the tips of your fingers and pressed it to your nose, you could still smell him. The scent was soothing and it was the only thing keeping you sane, even though it inevitably reminded you of what happened. 

You shook your head to dispel the thoughts before they could consume you again. A sigh escaped your lips as you gathered your gardening tools and you were intent on putting them away. Until you heard someone saying your name and you almost dropped the bucket you had been carrying.

Your eyes widened in surprise and you whipped your head to the source of the voice, your jaw dropping sharply when you spotted who was waving at you from the fence line. Bright eyes of golden honey peeked up at you from a wild mane of snow-white hair, accompanied by a wide grin and a wave of a hand. 

"Jing Yuan" you said. "What are you-?"

The tone of your voice dropped into a hushed whisper as you quickly looked around, making sure that no one had stumbled upon you yet as the young Jing Yuan clambered over the fence. You pressed your finger to your lips when the sound of his shoes hitting the gravel grated against your ears. He noticed the panicked look on your face and stopped in his tracks, hands raised in the air as a sign of peace. When you were sure the coast was clear, you quickly rushed over to him, a concerned look in your eyes as you examined the boy from head to toe. The fur on your tail bristled from your uninvited guest. The elders didn’t like unexpected visitors to the complex and you didn’t know if they would make an expectation for one of Jingliu's students. 

“What are you doing here?” you asked, your tone rushed with a hushed, sharp rasp.

Jing Yuan gave you a beaming smile, his innocence radiating off of his kind face as he looked up at you with big eyes. 

"I came to see you" he replied. "We haven’t played in ages. Are you sick?"

You sighed softly, taking a deep breath to compose yourself. You had to remind yourself that Jing Yuan was still just a kid. A cloud knight cadet but still just a kid. Of course he wouldn’t understand why he hadn’t seen you for the past two weeks. You couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips as he continued to chirp like an excited bird. You could have sworn that he got a little bit taller since the last time you saw him but that may just have been your imagination. You were fond of little Jing Yuan but that didn’t excuse that he was an uninvited visitor. He was breaking the rules by being here and you tried to explain it to him as gently as possible. You stepped towards him, hands coming to rest on his shoulders as he peered up at you beneath the flutter of his pale lashes. No, it wasn’t your imagination. He was a little taller.

"Listen, Jing Yuan, while I appreciate your visit, you’re not supposed to be here" you spoke carefully, your voice soft and full of warmth.

A small pout tugged on Jing Yuan’s lips. "Eh? Why not?"

"The elders do not like it when visitors show up unannounced" you explained, telling a partial truth. 

Jing Yuan’s brow furrowed. "That’s lame. This is your house. You should be able to have over whoever you want."

You couldn’t help but giggle at his response. You wish you could see things through his eyes with such rose-tinted glasses. He was unaware of the complex world adults had to live in and it would be a futile attempt to try and explain why things were this way. Because you anticipated a rebuttal with every statement you made. 

"Are you sick?" Jing Yuan asked again. 

Another long sigh breezed past your lips as your smile fell. You tried to fix it back into place, but it slipped shortly after when you responded to him. 

"Yes and no. It's complicated little Yuan" you replied, again, telling a partial truth.

Jing Yuan’s frown only deepened. You knew that your complexion was sickly, heavy bags under your eyes and the collar of your robes tugged high over your neck that it threatened to creep over your jawline. You looked wrapped up and ready for bed, your tail hanging low and the usual shimmer of your horns dulled under the sunlight. Jing Yuan looked thoughtful for a moment as he reached up and grabbed your hands slowly, carefully gauging your reaction. You blinked owlishly at your intertwined hands, head tilted to the side curiously. A smile lit up his features and he started to tug you in the direction of the back gate. 

"Come on, let’s go for a walk."

Your brow furrowed in confusion, yet you weren’t resisting his pull as you quietly trudged behind him. 

"Why?" you questioned. 

"Because a walk is good for your health!" Jing Yuan exclaimed before you hurriedly shushed him for raising his voice.

He apologised before continuing in a quieter tone. "Master Jingliu always tells me to "walk it off" when I’m not feeling good. So, we should walk it off too. I promise, it’ll make you feel better."

When you had both reached the gate, you finally stopped in your tracks. You paused to think about what you were going to do next. Was this really the right thing to do? Being cooped up in your house wasn’t doing you any favours, but you didn’t want to go against your elder’s words. You teetered on a decision, reminding you of how you flickered between a decision back in Dan Feng’s garden. You could still feel the balmy breeze from that day and the look in his eyes when you told him you were leaving. It tugged at your heart strings. Just as Jing Yuan was tugging at your sleeves now, looking up at you with such a kind face that you couldn’t say no to. Maybe this was your hazy addled brain thinking or perhaps it was finally your breaking point of having other people telling you what to do and planning out your life for you. Whatever it was, this was the second time you would be going against your elder’s wishes and the taste that lingered in your throat as you happily followed along after Jing Yuan tasted sweet. 

Only for it to turn into bitter, rotten fruit when you found out where your destination was. You didn’t pay enough attention as Jing Yuan trotted alongside you, chatting away as you walked side by side. You were too engrossed in all the stories he had to tell you since he last saw you. He talked of the train Jingliu had been putting him through. He talked about what new masterpieces Yingxing had crafted in the forge. He regaled you with tales of the mischief he and Beiheng got into. And lastly, he informed you of Dan Feng and how he seemed like he had more of a stick up his arse than usual. Jing Yuan’s words, not yours. Though you reprimanded him for his use of language, his words made you concerned. But before you could ask for any further clarification, it seemed you had arrived at where Jing Yuan had been leading you. 

A big smile stretched his lips as he waved to the figure standing at the water’s edge, seam foam licking at the edges of his boots as he turned to greet you both. Your stomach dropped so far you thought it was going to shrivel up and die when you realised who it was.

"Dan Feng!" Jing Yuan exclaimed. "I brought her!"

[serpentface]

THE HIGHLAND KHAIT: AN OVERVIEW

The Highland khait, known internally as the feydhi, is a landrace breed of the Highlands of contemporary Imperial Wardin, and highly distinctive from all other native khait in the region. Their horns are notably unusual, being curved and pointed and frequently asymmetrical, which is often cited as a result of their folkloric origins as hybrids of khait and the (asymmetrically one-antlered) scimitar deer. They are very stocky and small for a riding breed, typically standing no more (and usually less) than 55 inches at the shoulder. Their coats come in a wide variety of colors and patterning, though a majority of individuals are dun or gray. Their manes are notably short and stiff, and they lack the beards common in many other khait breeds.

While notably slower than other khait, feydhi are very surefooted and have notably smooth gaits, able to move at a steady trot over difficult terrain with minimal bouncing for the rider. They are extremely strong for their size, and fully capable of carrying most adult riders and heavy packs, and pulling plows.

Their hair is longer than average but provides little insulation and they do not grow winter coats, and instead rely predominantly on fat stores to cope with winter conditions. They are easy keepers that can gain and maintain mass with very poor grazing, though most require supplements of grain to their diets to gain sufficient fat stores to survive winters in the highest settled altitudes.

Feydhi can adapt well to the hotter lowlands conditions than other Highlands livestock largely due to this lack of thick hair. Because they require no supplement to their diet to maintain condition, they are very affordable khait and an asset (along with a few other specialized lowlands breeds) during dry seasons, and see wide use throughout Imperial Wardin (particularly as pack animals along trade routes). They often survive a little too well in the lowlands, being adapted to sparse mountain pastures rather than seasonally abundant grasslands, and can be prone to obesity when allowed to graze freely.

They show a small degree of selection for milk production due to the import of dairy to the regional diet of the Highlands. Their milk has the highest fat content of the native livestock, but a notably gamey taste that is generally disfavored. It's used primarily as-is for basic sustenance and medicinal purposes- growing children and pregnant women are encouraged to drink feydhi milk to build fat stores, and mounted herders will often ride lactating mares in the winter and subsist largely upon their milk. Their meat is also the fattiest of any of the regional livestock and (unlike their milk) generally regarded as the best in taste, though their value as riding animals and more expensive upkeep prevents their consumption on any regular basis.

Rendered, chilled feydhi fat mashed with berries and eaten on bread is a seasonal delicacy eaten at midwinter feasts. It is considered an obligation of a wealthy ruling clan to slaughter some of their khait and provide the fat for this meal to their dependents, and an indication of failing wealth and authority if they cannot. A phrase translating as 'rich in cattle, poor in fat' invokes the notion of having a clan having superficial wealth (in cattle, which can largely sustain themselves on poor grazing and thus can hide a loss of material power for a period) but a heavily insecure position (unable to actually afford to lose their more high maintenance assets), and is used colloquially to describe a person or people giving hollow performances to mask lacking or lost substance.

They have some unique behavioral quirks among khait, such as a propensity to use their lower teeth in allogrooming to rake and scratch each other. This favoring of their teeth also lends more aggressive animals to biting (in addition to the far more khait-typical headbutting and kicking), a behavior that seems reserved exclusively for humans and is rarely used in intraspecies conflict. As with all bovidae, they no upper incisors and their bite can only do so much harm in most circumstances, but they can cause significant damage to the fingers of the unwary. They are also known for their tendency to consume bite-sized animals such as small birds when given the opportunity- this is not atypical of khait (or many grazing herbivores at large), but is emphasized in combination with their tendency to bite to cast them as uniquely carnivorous.

Their temperaments are regarded as notably stubborn and somewhat testy, but this is made up for with their intelligence and generally calm demeanor. Feydhi are most prized for their bravery- they do not spook easily against wild predators and can perform some functions as livestock guardians, readily chasing off small threats and known to stand their ground against even large predators, particularly hyena (the most populous and routinely threatening predator in the region).

This trait is commonly noted in folktales- one western mountain pass is said to be haunted by the ghost of an old gray mare who stood guard over her master (a noted drunk, who had fallen off her back and passed out) against a pack of hyenas for an entire night. When her rider awoke the next day, he found her dead and bloodied with her horns stuck into a hyena's side, having killed the predators but succumbed to her own wounds. He was so sorrowful that he resolved to never drink again (outside of holidays, and perhaps weddings) and buried her under stone. Travelers through this pass customarily pour out liquor and leave little offerings of grain for the animal's spirit, which is said to be seen at night from a distance, standing vigilant atop its cairn, but vanishes when approached.

The settlement cycle stories of the Hill Tribes go into extensive detail about the cattle and horses brought overseas with the migrants, but elaborate little on their khait and imply that a riding culture did not exist during the settlement period. The stories tend to describe people as walking on foot or riding their cattle, and khait riding is only mentioned in descriptions of proto-Wardi mounted nomads in the lowlands. It is likely that khait riding (rather than sole use as pack animals) was an adopted practice post-settlement, and possible that khait were not brought along with the migrants to begin with.

The actual origins of the feydhi breed are ambiguous as such. Old Ephenni folklore mentions tiny 'fairy' khait living in the Highlands that predated the arrival of the Hill Tribes, suggesting that these animals were already established as feral herds. It's highly possible that these herds were are a relic of the cairn-building civilization that existed in the Highlands prior to recorded history and had already long vanished (likely in a combination of plague and dispersal) prior to the settlement. The stories of feydhi being hybrids between foreign khait and native deer is also suggestive of such an origin, with wild deer as ancestors being a mythologized twist on feral khait.

Feydhi do not have the same status of cattle or horses as fundamental to subsistence, with much of their use being in utility as pack animals and transport over difficult terrain. However, they play very significant roles in the livestock raiding aspects of warrior culture, where they are used for quick exits and to help drive cattle and horses. Their roles in other aspects of warrior culture are more varied between tribes- some use them near-exclusively for raids, while others rely on them for open combat. Khait warrior culture is most central in the western Urbinnas tribes, who each consider themselves to be the most skilled riders and uniquely specialize towards mounted archery. The Urbinnas tribes have a long history of interaction with the lowlands Ephenni Wardi (alternating cycles of conflict and trade, and a half century of allyship against Imperial Burri occupiers). Both groups have a strong history of mounted warrior culture, and each claims to have introduced mounted archery to the other.

Khait also play roles in regional combat sports, which include mock battles and raids, races, archery, and most famously khait wrestling. The latter involves two mounted riders attempting to wrestle one another off their khait, gain control of their opponent's mount, and then successfully lead both animals out of the ring without their opponent re-mounting. This sport requires very calm, collected animals that will not panic while being fought over, and the measured temperament of the feydhi is well suited.

[panthrology]

ok first off love the geto fic!!!!! but i was thinking geto checking readers attitude. shes been on one all day and he just is finally over it. (maybe pussy slapping if comfortable with)

hii ‼️ thank you so much, appreciate the love from everyone 🙈☺️ MWAH

context

cw : pussy slapping & brat taming. that's it tbh.

but yeah anon I hear ya. though since suguru's generally on the more chill side, I don't feel like he'd brat tame you in a way that's more hands on..at first.

in fact I think his way of brat taming you is simply doing nothing in your favor until you cave.

I doubt he'd mind at first, simply taking the unnecessary arguments, eyerolls, and snide comments all day. maybe even return your energy back a little.

but as time goes on his patience would thin, and your bad attitude would gradually start to piss him off. love takes patience, he knows that much; but when you bug him about this, or that in an argumentative manner with no valid reason, he finds you difficult to put up with.

especially after that little stunt you pulled last night.

“hey.” suguru interrupts your meaningless rant about him buying almond milk instead of regular milk and blah blah blah. if you really gave a fuck, you would've joined him on the grocery shopping.

“is this what we're doin’ right now?”

the ambiguity of his question makes you falter, meeting his gaze which..seems to be unusually intense.

“what?” your face scrunches up in confusion, “what are you even talkin’ about?”

oh, okay. he tongues the inside of his cheek slightly, it's milk for christ's sake.

“don't be like that. you know damn well that you need to fix that attitude and calm down.”

you scoff, not believing that your attitude is the most irksome.

“yeah, ‘cause my attitude is the biggest problem right now. don't piss me off suguru—you can't avoid and evade with your nonchalance out of this one.”

oh.

okay.

“it's like I gotta discipline you like a little girl, d'you even think about that?”

suguru asks, voice breathless as he watches you from above. arm slung over the back of the couch and you—kneeling between his spread knees and gagging with his cock stretching your mouth. “but I bet you didn't even do that. can't think with dick down your throat, can you?”

he sees the dip in your brow and grins, taking pleasure in the current power imbalance between you both. he could get used to this.

but as you raise your head to argue again, he simply keeps a firm hand atop your head, forcing you to take him down deeper. “..it'd be in your best interest not to argue with me, sweetheart.”

fine, you sharply inhale through your nostrils. if you ignore the sodden panties sticking to your skin—pussy calling for his name in morse code, you think you can soften him up a bit.

you suck him, slowly but surely while your hands stroke where your lips can't reach, your challenging gaze meeting suguru's own.

he keeps his hand firm on your head, lips parted and head tilted back against the sofa, making sure he keeps your mouth fully occupied. his toes curl inwards under his socks when you begin to bob your head, pleasure liquifying his legs.

you make a gargled noise when his bulbous tip nudges the back of your throat, reaching another hand further down—right down to give his balls a gentle squeeze.

“fuuckk—mhmm..you know what I like,” he moans in appreciation before closing his fist around your hair in a makeshift ponytail and yanks you off of him. “alright, enough. get up here.”

that didn't take very long, you think.

wiping your mouth from the spit and his pre, you rise with wobbly knees and plop next to him on the couch. he spreads your thighs in no time at all, kneeling between them. you sigh, sinking into the couch while your lids slip shut. waiting for his touch.

but nothing comes.

when you reopen your eyes, a smug suguru stares back at you and even lets a little chuckle slip. “funny how you just assumed that i’d give you what you want after your poor attitude.” suguru's eyes twinkle with amusement, tracing light touches against the gentle curve of your abdomen. gentle, soft, nowhere near enough.

“god, suguru, please! i said i was sorry.” frustration creeps into your tone, and you toss your head back onto the armrest.

“did you?” that simple question and the look he gives you makes you question yourself, the realisation that you in fact did not hit you like a truck.

shamefully, you avert your gaze. “..sorry.”

yet all you get is a head shake from suguru, lips pursed in a thin line, trace, trace, trace.

“the nerve. all that rudeness ‘n for what? i’m nothing but good to you..”

he trails off, observing the way your skin rises when his feather-like touch grazes your belly button, dipping his fingers lower to tug your underwear all the way down, flicking it off your ankle. “i still don't know where you get the audacity.” he smirks.

your pulse quickens, watching the way his knuckles brush against your inner thigh, going up, up.

you feel it before you hear it—a swift ‘smack!’ against your bare cunt has you whimpering and seizing up. the pain knocks you off your guard, before it bleeds into pleasure, the new feeling making you completely disoriented.

once suguru sees your shocked, wide-eyed gaze, his ego swells and he folds his arms, staring you down as if he were daring you to say anything—to backtalk him again.

beats of silence pass and the weight of what suguru just did barely has time to sink in before he does it again. it's wetter this time and has more momentum. the collision you makes your hips jolt violently, and your legs hike up to your chest as you flinch and cry out his name. hot tears slip from their confines and roll down your cheeks.

suguru, however, is having a time. he brings his hand up to the dim lighting of the room, watching your glistening slick coat his fingertips and palm before he speaks, his tone almost scrutinising.

“of course, you'd get wet from me rightfully putting you in your place. nasty girl,” he purrs before popping two fingers into his mouth, the familiar taste of you flooding his senses.

“sugu—” you choke on a little sob, wiping your tears with the back of your hand. you can still feel the sting right on your clit.

“i'm sorry, i'm so so sorry. won't happen again.”

“yeah, it will. you're not foolin’ anybody here.” suguru rolls his eyes, swiping his forefinger against your swollen nub and your legs jitter at the contact. “y'know this is what happens to brats who can't check themselves, right?” he asks rhetorically.

he meets your gaze. “and I like to think that I have a good girl, who can behave in a way that doesn't have to make me do things like this.”

you nod weakly.

“thats what I know.” he nods once and pulls away. “i'll think about accepting your apology, but that depends on how well you can make me cum.” you hate to hear it. it takes everything in you not to groan or roll your eyes..but your heart jumps at the chance of redemption.

“c'mon then, on your knees pretty.”

© NEPTNSZN 2024 ★ please do NOT copy, repost or modify my pieces, apply credit when necessary.

[thechekhov]

Chekhov Reads Dungeon Meshi: CH46

D....dark Laios?

I mean, you DID consent!

The fact that ghosts can pass through walls and take other things with them... it kind of elicits another type of organism. Like, what can pass through cell walls? What other parts of the body can just yoink stuff from one place and bring it to another?

Congrats! It's all just been a dream!

I'm sorry what the SHIT?!?!?

Well, I-- .... yeah, I GUESS.

Though it looks more like one of those carousel horses.

I think this is probably still inside the dungeon. Very... DEEP. Inside the dungeon.

What? WHAT?! These things are like regular animals down here???

Oh, I--hm. I see.

Ordered by WHOMST?

Is this just an entire society of (humans??? ghosts?) that lives here in the dungeon deep? Is there still a king under the mountain? Are the rumors of the king dying not true at all?

........or are these people and descendants of adventurers who came in but were never able to leave? And the fact that Senshi points out that none of them are old.... are they ageing?

Laios, Senshi n--...... welp. There they go.

Bless this man and his absolutely non sexual obsession with monsters. But.

Izutsumi, who is a human-level intellect beastkin (though she's low on wisdom and patience....) is being very.... beast-ly and soft here. She's being magically compelled, presumably, to chill the fuck out.

Which means all these monsters are also under the same effect? Isn't that a little fucked up? They're basically under a permanent drugged effect.

Also. Hm. 'short lifespan' is....relative. Short lifespan compared to what? Immortality?

Orcs know this place exists....?

These people planting things for fun means they're absolutely trapped here like spirits.

Keeping up appearances for. Whom.

These poor people have no new incomers to talk to, huh.

Oh, I uh---- ................ hm. THat's not at all what I was imagining either.

Fashion is cyclical after all I guess....

Mmmmm. Mmmm-hmmmMMM.

WHEEEEZXE

Knowing I've finally hit these two absolutely iconic panels... amazing.

......I guess it can only do so much to make her docile...... she still doesn't like Laios.

Why does he look familiar...?

....so Derghal had a son. And a grandson. So then why is there a bid for the throne...?

Laios. Laios, is milking the minotaur the ONLY thing you did? Or was there more to it? Laios.

It's interesting. That bartender said he was 600 when he started his now-400 year old ale. So. That means they're 1000 years old.

That means that they're about as long lived as elves? Haven't gone mad yet. But that's still a long time.

That's kinda worse, yeah, but a loss of the self is a type of death, in a way...? So....

The most throwback of all time.

Actually, I feel like that's been there for a while, although it didn't always look EXACTLY like a lion's head. I feel like the little living armor he keeps in there made it that design? But how would it do that on purpose?

this is what it looked like some chapters back. Yeah, it's been sculpting into a lion's mane for a while now.... Ohohohoh playing the long game are we? 👀

Ah, it's not a wolf. How tragic for you, Laios. It'll never work out.

Also, damn, those wings sure be lookin like Falin's very non-dragon wings. What a wild coincidence. I'm sure that doesn't mean anything. :)

laughing hysterically. This poor guy can't get a break. He's been running from responsibility and inheritance for his entire life and it still catches up and trips him purposefully.

There is definitely a certain amount of tragedy there, yeah. These people aren't asking Laios for help because it's easier. They're legitimately stuck in a nightmare scenario. Unless you're someone who can get pleasure from other avenues, living all that time without the basic needs will drive a person mad. Elves live just as long, presumably, but they're still able to eat, I assume.

I'm honestly more surprised they're all as sane as they are.

.......King of Forgor.

[whorrorbellee]

CherryWaves

Prologue

Ghostface! Danny Johnson x f!reader

Danny just had to save you. He just had to save your poor sad life. Knocking your sad frail body against fake plastic tiles. Shoving his fingers down your throat like a kid fishing for pennies. What was it you wrote in your diary? Your shiny white masked knight in a black shroud? Well how cute. Maybe it was time he kept a pet around. Just to play or course. 18+ : eventual smut, themes of suicide (reader attempts), selfharm, sexual content, murder, themes of violence

ao3 one masterlist

There's something in the air. Maybe it's that time of year. When you feel yourself fall away like thread splitting at the seams. When you’re clutching at the fabric of your knit sweater. Pulling it closer to your skin. Jeans become looser around your waist, you watch them fall around your hips as you push down the urge to throw up. It's normal. It's a regular occurrence you swear! When winter comes round it's like you're dying from the inside. Wilting quickly. Blackened petals folding in on themself. Ready to crumble into a pile of ash. You're just another brown leaf on the sidewalk. Stepped on, splashed over. Melting into a mushy pile like the others. Until spring comes, when you find yourself blossoming all over again.

And maybe you haven't been too careful recently, watchful, cautious. You're in and out of work. The days feel slower and quicker and it's hard to remember what time it is and when you last washed the bra you're wearing. So it's not like you're keeping an eye on things. 

You rub your eyes. Eyeliner smudging underneath, you feel the grit of your mascara rub against your eyelids. You huff smoke. Cigarette hanging out of your mouth as you tuck your hair behind your ears. There’s a slight chill in the air which is slightly unusual for Florida, but you tuck your thin sweater around your chest anyway, numb fingers taking the cigarette out your mouth as you blow a billow of smoke into the air. 

You throw the cigarette on the floor and crush it under your foot, watching the embers escape into the concrete slabs. You check your watch. It's only ten past five, Thursday evening. Someone bumps shoulders with you as you pass by a crowd after work rush. You've only just escaped from a job yourself. You pat down your jeans, wallet gone. You look back quickly and watch someone scurry across the crowd of people, ducking between workers and customers. He was out of sight just as you noticed him. You sigh. Looking up at the pharmacy ahead. You bite your lip. 

You pull yourself into a nook between shops and lean down on the cold gravel. Hands digging into your pockets, you pull out 4 dollars, a lighter and a receipt for milk. You bite the insides of your cheeks. Hands scraping up the wall as you bring yourself back up on your feet. 

The door to the pharmacy swings open, it smells like an air-conditioning unit and pepto bismol, your shoes scrape across the floor as you wander around the aisles, eyes flicking through hair products, condoms, prenatal vitamins, and finally razors. A pack of twelve single blades is a buck. You wonder if you should just tuck them under your sleeve and buy a burger from over the road instead. You wonder if you should buy them at all. But you find your feet shuffling over to the counter anyway, before you can even think for yourself.

Are you really doing this? 

Yes. 

You made up your mind a long time ago. 

You slide the pack across the counter along with a two dollar bill , the pharmacist looks up at you with a smile, it stretches across his face like a mask. Skin shiny and plastic. Against the hard fluorescent lights, You smile back quickly and watch him type up the price on the cash machine, buttons clicking. He looks at you. Eyes tracing over the curves of your cheeks, you watch his lips purse, eyes flicking towards the packet you slammed down on the counter mere moments ago, the bill curling up at the sides, you wonder if it still has coke around the edges. He sighs. “Do you have any I.D?” 

You blink, biting your lip in annoyance. Of course you fucking dont. Your wallet just got stolen. You want to scream. You pat down your pockets, digging into the back ones and then shrug, baring your teeth on one side. “Oh sorry, I think I left it at home.”

He stares back in annoyance. “I'm old enough to buy them though, I promise.” you laugh, pushing the cash closer towards him. 

“You have to be over 18 to buy, I'm sorry if you don't have any I.D I can't let you buy any.” 

“I've bought them here before and you didn't ask for I.D?” 

Plan B it is.

He shrugs, pushing your cash back at you. You blink slowly, hand grabbing onto the dollar bill and pushing yourself away from the counter. He watches you pass through the aisle, and you slip your hand out quickly to grab something before running out the door, your feet thumping against the sidewalk quickly, you dash into an alleyway and pull the object into your line of sight. It's a child's lip balm shaped like some cartoon character, it's dead-stock of some kind because you had the same one when you were about five, tiny cracked lips covered in glitter. Toothy grin.

You throw it on the floor and take out your carton of cigarettes, there's one. Broken, shoved in sideways at the bottom, you fish it out quickly and rip off the end, fishing your lighter out, you bring the cancer to your lips, breathing in as you flick the clippers edge, sparks fly quickly. You bring your thumb down repeatedly but no flame appears. 

You fight the urge to bash your head against the wall. 

You walk twenty minutes down the road, climb a flight of stairs and then settle between the indentation in your cheap sofa, your apartment is inherently hot, even as the sun sets behind the curtains you feel yourself melt into the cracked leather. Skin sticking to shiny fabric. The place wasn't exactly clean, but it wasn't like you were living in squalor the whole time, clothes piled into corners of the room, a couple of empty glasses here and there. A moulding cup of coffee on the windowsill, unopened bills piled next to the door. It was a list of things you weren't going to have to deal with in the next coming days or ever.

When you blink yourself awake it's eleven pm. You smile into your palm. Bare feet pattering against linoleum tile to the cupboard in your bathroom, you pull out the full bottle of sleeping pills. Closing the door and watching your face appear in the mirror, dark circles and gaunt cheeks. You trace your brow bone with your finger, watching the nail scrape against skin, it trails down to your cheeks. Then your lips and then you smother your face in your hands. 

They won't find you till Monday, maybe Tuesday if they don’t realise you’re missing, maybe never, maybe you'll rot into the floorboards till it gives out on the weight of your swollen body and you'll collapse into the floor underneath you, you're a lawsuit waiting to happen. You wonder if the coroner will think you're pretty. Will they judge you for the underwear you're wearing, or will it be sliced off without a thought?  They'll mark it as a suicide the minute they see the scars across your thighs 

Will your Mum even attend the funeral? 

Will he?

You groan against your palms, smile disappearing into nothing. You can't keep doing this to yourself, edging yourself at the thought of death. You shake yourself out of it quickly. Pulling the door open and grabbing the first bottle of liquor you can see. You sit down on the floor near the tv. Running your fingers over the edge of the pill bottle, fingernail knocking against every divot of the cap, you bite your lip as you pull it off. Pouring a couple into your hand, five perfect pills lying neatly in your palm. You tear the bottle cap of the whiskey, shoving the pills into your mouth without care and drowning them. 

You swallow, feeling them go down your throat, nearly scratching the sides. Switching on the tv to some horror movie, you fall into the crevice of the couch.

And now you wait. 

It feels like hours have passed quickly and you're floating, and suddenly the floor is crashing up at you. You're slumped over the toilet bowl as someone's hand digs deeply into your mouth, you gag, fingers leaving a trail of spit as you puke into the toilet bowl, the taste of acid and leather on your tongue. Your eyes are half closed as your cheek rests against the ceramic seat. It feels hard to breathe, you suck in air all jagged. You're breathing all wrong. Something or someone pats your back softly, and then you're throwing up all over again, watching the white pills come up quickly. There's about four in the toilet, only a sliver of them dissolved. Snot runs down your face. It's only been a few minutes since you took them and apparently since some guy has come into your home.

Your hands grip on the floor as the black smudges approach your face again, mouth yanked open as he shoves his fingers down your throat, you feel the bile rise up. And you're chucking up all over again, it’s just pure stomach acid, but the last pill comes up and you feel yourself slump into a pile on the cold plastic floor, tears wetting the hair you're leaning against. The shower curtain billowing against your legs. Your hands feel weak and you can barely grip a fist. You cough against yourself, drooling out your mouth. You run your hands over your face as you curl into a ball. You're hot to the touch, sweating through your shirt. Back sticking to the fabric.

Whoever is in your apartment has ruined your plans. 

You blink as a cool glass of water is pressed to your lips, it tastes so sweet in comparison to the sick, and you gulp down the liquid as someone hushes at you softly. Leather wipes away your tears, you're pulled into a chest and rocked back and forth until you stop hyperventilating, it feels like you’re a child all over again, feeling so small. Half awake in the arms of comfort. You wonder if he’ll bring you to bed, tuck you in and read you a story.

It pulls off your clothes in quick recession, your limp body placed carefully in the bath, he holds your body to the wall as your scrubbed clean of spit and puke. Gentle hands running down your body. You're still so out of it. Eyes half closed the whole time, they feel so raw. The light penetrating through the window feels like they are ripping them out of your head.  

Then your body gets pulled out of the tub, into your bedroom where you’re fully clothed all over again. He chosen the nice pj’s, the ones your mum got you for christmas, fished out from the sale rack of some expensive department store. They're still so soft on your skin, even when you use the cheap detergent. Strands of hair are wiped away from your face as you lie in bed. Your arms and legs are useless, they flop against the mattress as a sheet is pulled over your body. 

You gaze up at the guardian angel. A pale face gapes back at you. Black eyes, a skeletal nose, You gasp. Wetting your lips with your tongue. Your heart beat raises for the first time that night. Your lip quivers into a smile. “Who?-”

“Shh, It's okay. Wrong place and Wrong time. Okay?” his hand grasps around your chin pulling your head into a gradual nod. You blink up at him. Lips parting. He smoothes a hand over the black sheet. He stands up, quiet on his feet as he approaches the door, you meet his gaze as he turns round. 

“Try killing yourself again and I'll gut you” his hand grasps the door, he pauses. “Got it?” 

You find yourself nodding quickly,“Yeah, I got it”.

“Good” He flicks the light off. The room pools into darkness, and he steps into the light of the hallway, whatever is on the tv switches off and the door slams shut after.

[siythn]

Espresso

GETO X READER! Sure, work had been a constant reminder of the painful hours that were to come, but when a rather cute black-haired man starts becoming a familiar face, work doesn’t sound as bad. _________ ♫ ESPRESSO - sabrina carpenter ❝ɴᴏᴡ ʜᴇ'ꜱ ᴛʜɪɴᴋɪɴ' 'ʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ɴɪɢʜᴛ, ᴏʜ ɪꜱ ɪᴛ ꜱᴡᴇᴇᴛ? ɪ ɢᴜᴇꜱꜱ ꜱᴏ❞

It's one of those lazy, rain-splattered afternoons where the world seems to move in slow motion, water makes constant noise hitting onto the roof and platting on the windows.

The little coffee shop where you work part-time is unusually quiet. Not like you’re complaining, a quiet workplace is something you’ll take over rush hour any day. The soft murmur of jazz mingling with the rhythmic tap of rain against the window adds onto the atmosphere of the shop.

It’s mismatched chairs and book-lined walls, becomes a haven for anyone seeking refuge from the drizzle and the chill outside. You, wrapped up in your favorite oversized sweater, find solace behind the counter, the hum of the espresso machine your steady companion.

Within a minute of admiring the place, you grow bored. A groan fills the room as you yourself walking away from the counter; mind begging to occupy yourself until the end of your shift.

As you wipe down the already spotless table, the bell above the door chimes its cheerful greeting. Heavy footsteps already gives you an idea who it might be. Scratch it, who you want it to be. Glancingly up, your lips automatically curve into a smile.

It's him again-Suguru Geto; the regular who somehow always manages to brighten your day a bit more than you would ever bring yourself to admit.

"Afternoon," you call out, the familiarity of his presence bringing warmth to your greeting.

"Good afternoon," Suguru replies, his voice smooth. His eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles at you, that charming, effortless smile that had caught your eye from his very first visit.

He's dressed in a simple black sweater and baggy denim jeans today, but somehow he makes the casual outfit look deliberate, almost elegant. You can't stop your eyes from checking him out. "The usual day for the usual, I suppose?"

"Of course," you laugh, reaching for the oh-so familiar cup that's become his favorite. "Espresso, right?"

"That's right," he nods, his dark eyes following your movements as you prepare his drink. He's always been a keen observer, you've noticed. Not in a creepyway, but in the kind of way someone genuinely interested in the little details that others might overlook. You can’t help but hide the redness creeping up your neck every time it occurs.

As a small silence fills the air, he overtakes it without a beat. “How’s your day going?” he asks, his tone casual but curious.

“Pretty quiet, with the weather and all,” you reply, pouring the steamed milk into the freshly brewed espresso with practiced ease. “But it’s nice, makes the shop feel even cozier.”

He nods, letting out a hum as his gaze remains on you. “It’s nice to find places like this, you know? Somewhere you can just relax and feel at ease, especially with someone nice to talk to.”

Your cheeks warm at the subtle compliment, hidden thankfully by the steam from the espresso machine. “I’m glad you think so. It’s always nice to have regulars like you. Makes working here even better.”

As you press down the filter, separating the grounds from the dark, aromatic liquid, Suguru props his elbows up on the counter, raising a brow. "You know, l've always wondered," he begins, moving his left hand to rest aside his cheek, "what brings someone like you to a place like this?"

You pause, a smile playing at your lips. "Someone like me?"

"Yeah," he chuckles, the sound warm and inviting. "You always seem like you're dreaming of something beyond this place. Not that it isn't a nice spot, but you have a look that seems meant for larger things."

Flushing slightly, you pour his coffee into a clean mug, the steam curling up like tiny wraiths in the cool air of the shop. "I guess I'm just figuring things out. Books, writing, maybe travel. . .But for now, this is good. It's cozy, it's comfortable."

Suguru accepts the mug, his fingers brushing lightly against yours, sending an unintended shiver up your spine. "It suits you," he admits, taking a sip of his coffee before his eyes meet yours again. "The coziness, I mean. You make the place seem welcoming."

Ditch the idea of even attempting to hide the obvious blush that covers your face. With one last desperate attempt, you glance at what seems to be anything but him; the idea of looking up and locking eyes with Suguru makes you feel hotter than ever.

All your ears pick up is his small chuckle that seems to block out anything and everything. It’s like your body wants hear more, feel more. Your mind seems to have more dignity.

All the gods above must’ve been on your side, as everything comes back with the sound of the door chime ringing. You lift your chin, giving him a small smile before rushing yourself behind the counter once more. Within the corner of your eye, you see him respond with a nod; trailing to a seat in the corner that he's acquired for himself.

The quiet shop now becomes one busy, replacing the atmosphere with a sense of rush. As more customers trickle in seeking refuge from the rain, you busily fill orders. But your mind stays tethered to Suguru, to the gentle cadence of his voice, to the intriguing look he gives you that you crave to explore.

Finally, as the rush dies down and the last customer leaves, dabbing raindrops from their coat, Suguru is still there sitting politely without complaint, nursing his half-finished coffee. You hate to admit, but his presence leaves a tone in the air. As much as your mind tried to keep busy, you couldn’t ignore his attendance and stare.

Trying to appear normal and not that desperate, you clean up a bit, wiping down tables and cleaning stained dishes before making your way back to him.

"Not rushing off today?" you ask, settling onto the chair next to him.

"No," he smirks. "I thought I might stay a bit. If that's alright with you?"

"Of course," you say, your heart thumping a little harder (and hopefully not any louder) in your chest.

"I’ve been thinking," Suguru starts, his eyes locked on yours, "about asking you if you'd like to go out sometime. Outside of this coffee shop, I mean. Maybe see what's beyond these cozy walls together?"

Your breath catches slightly at the sincerity that reaches his eyes, at the hopeful note in his voice. "I’d like that," you manage to say, your voice soft but clear. You give yourself points for staying composed.

"Great," he grins, breathing out a sigh as his smile lights up his whole face. "It's a date then."

As he stands to leave, he reaches out, his hand lingering over yours for a moment longer than necessary. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow." you confirm, trying to keep your face as straight as possible, the huge urge to smile is getting harder to maintain.

The urge is replaced with a frown as he places his hand back into his pocket. You realize how bad you want the warmth of his hand as soon as it’s taken.

With a final nod, Suguru steps out into the rain, the bell chiming after him, you squeal. Letting out a little giggle, you leap over to your phone, not missing any time to update your friends on what occurred.

Your boss later questioned why you looked so happy while you were closing.

@siythn all rights reserved!

[snuurp]

introduction to the WORMS IN MY BRAIN jk this is a modern fantasy au for baldurs gate 3 plain text and more info under the cut

intro to the au, forewarning i haven't done much research, and my first playthrough of the game isn't done yet (I AM in act three tho I swear 2/3rds of the three guys r dealt with and so is cazador.) keep in mind i have no idea what i'm doing.

the mindflayer stuff is like. an experimental implant they all dubiously agreed to without all the info. extra enhancements (like the other tadpoles in game) are like drugs, and they appear once weekly at everyone's doors whether they want it or not. initial implant stabilizes Karlach's engine, helps with Astarion's vampire stuff, etc. etc. and the extras just feel good to use, it's addictive.

all of them are in a support group together meant to encourage them to stay clean from the extra tadpoles. time they've spent with the group varies.

there WILL be more detailed posts for them later, i have a lot of thoughts on Karlach and Wyll especially. implied/possible shadowzel and wyllstarion. my tav will be present, this is very self indulgent and i am in lesbians with Karlach.

plain text for images:

KARLACH

6'11" - 7'

construction worker.

her first job was disastrous.

foreman Goretash pushed her into dangerous situations that she felt pressured to be in because she was the newbie.

things went wrong with the electrical on the job site, landing her in the hospital with a near-fatal heart problem.

but good* news! avernus co. offered her a mechanical heart for the low, low price of a ten year work contract! (strings attached.)

she's out of the contract now, and avernus co. is refusing to maintain her heart (and the other "upgrades" they gave her without consent.)

still in construction, unionized and a loud advocate for workers rights.

can't do caffeine. her coffee order is a creamy chocolate chill from TImothy Horthingtons.

favourite board game is ticket to ride or uno, surprisingly mean and competitive in games.

SHADOWHEART

5'6"

works at hot topic (emo)

just got out of the commune, full swing edgy phase and does NOT know how un-niche her music is yet (please don't tell her)(she might cry)

"adopted" by Shar's cult when she was little, doesn't remember much before or after that beyond what other members told her.

dissecting her faith.

roommates with Lae'zel. (they hate each other)

"roommates" with Lae'zel also. (they still hate each other) (kinda)

rps her fursona COOL CAT CHARACTER DO NOT STEAL online.

very afraid of wolves which does include sparkledogs and makes rp super difficult.

her favourite board game is catan or any ttrpg.

if asked, her coffee order is "black, like my tortured soul" but she actually gets a vanilla latte with extra syrup and sweet foam. (oat milk because regular makes her tummy hurt)

LAE'ZEL

5'7" and gods does she ever hold that extra inch over Shadowheart.

works as a personal trainer, her clients are scared of her which makes her VERY effective for the right people.

insults clients, perfectionist.

mommy issues x100

the creche has a very community/it takes a village style of raising but they do a really bad job.

she wants to be the BEST of her siblings, doesn't take failure well.

loves competitive solo sports, hiking, marathons, bouldering, boxing, etc. etc.

delights in pushing Shadowheart's buttons.

she doesn't drink coffee, her order is a smoothie.

willingly drinks the ones with kale like a CRAZY PERSON.

favourite board game is chess and while she is good at it she is a SORE loser.

WYLL

6'1"

used to work for avernus co. and now works a much quieter, mostly Mizora-free job at an elementary school.

the students favourite gym teacher.

estranged from his dad after a huge, explosive misunderstanding re: the very un-HR Mizora incident(s)

likes Go Fish and cribbage, but he's happy playing any board game the others suggest.

generally just happy to be here.

coffee of choice is an americano with a shot of apple cinnamon syrup.

loves knitting.

definitely not crushing on Astarion whaaat crazyyyy.....

his watch is from his dad. he looks at it when he misses him.

misses him a lot.

ASTARION

5'9"

former troubled teen kicked out by his rich parents.

Cazador was a "pastor" that took him under his wing and adopted him into his group home (for a price)

in debt to him now and can't outrun it.

has two jobs.

works at Olive Garden, HATES IT.

works at (insert coffee shop chain here) ALSO HATES IT.

somehow has a very popular aesthetic tumblr blog in the year of our lord 20XX

coffee order is an iced caramel latte (sometimes gets strawberry/cherry/raspberry syrup to make his pictures cooler)

his favourite board game is monopoly (he steals from the bank) but he DESPISES cheaters edition because that "takes all the fun out of it"

Wyll's feelings are mutual and he knows about them but he's too insecure to talk to Wyll about it (nerd)

GALE

5'11"

unemployed, formerly university librarian/professor.

is not over his ex, will not be over his ex for the foreseeable future.

eventually goes to a new university to teach tho.

zero rizz, this man uses mage hand to play wizard wonderwall while concentrating very hard and that makes him look constipated sorry Gale likers.

has a part time job at a Barnabus and Noblemans before going to the new university.

commissioned Wyll to make his sweater vest in affront-to-the-gods purple.

wrote some very prolific papers in the wizard community.

coffee order is matcha or a mocha

favourite board game is clue. he gets really into it.

[asraxfile]

what do u think with non-idol!ningning xf!reader

━━━ (ू˃o˂ू) ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵃ ᶜᵒᶠᶠᵉᵉ

sypnosis a regular customer, the girl you're too afraid to ask for her name, rushes inside your cafe bar one day, drenching in rain. Making this situation lead your hopes up for the further close encounters with her, tomorrow. pairing non-idol!Ningning x fem!reader genre fluff warnings ??? wc 1.3k

A/n: thank you so much dear anon for requesting this !! This one was first on the poll so I'm going to write phantom of the opera au next, THOUGH SOMEONE HELP ME I forgot how I wanna write it.............Enjoy readingg ^^

November 21st, it was slowly becoming much colder and rains were much more usual. The wind roughly freezed the passer-bys as they melted into the warmth of their thick clothes. You have been working all day now in your small little cafe bar. 

It was also raining heavily. Meaning that not many customers will stop by today. You walked over to the near tables and wiped them, cleaning off the mess. Your mind was filled with one regular customer, a girl, who always stops by for just a coffee. 

She was so cute in your opinion, but you never got her name though she came by almost everyday. Her usual order is an espresso with extra sugar and milk, and after she drinks her coffee she buys a Mogu Mogu drink for later right before she leaves the cafe bar. 

You could say she was a passing crush for you. Though you never got to have a real conversation with her, the glances and gazes both of you exchanged made the tension between you rise slowly. The smile on her face when you make a drawing on her coffee that’s different every time she orders. All the little things made you feel closer with her. 

As you were mopping the floor, suddenly a figure rushes inside the cafe. 

It was her. The girl that stops by for just a coffee. 

Her jacket soaking wet and her dark wavy hair tangled from the wind. Breathless she looked around for someone to help her until she saw you. 

“Oh my, are you okay??” You rushed towards her. “Here I’ll get you a towel” you exclaimed while rushing back to the bathroom. 

The mysterious girl thanked you after you got back and sat on the chair next to her usual table. “I forgot to bring an umbrella and now I’m...soaked.” She whined, looking down on her wet clothes as you sat down next to her. 

You watched the girl drench her hair in the towel you gave her. Happiness overtook your head, you were happy she was there with you again. You smiled softly at her, “What brings you here, the rain completely drenched you?” 

“I was on my way to get groceries and I guess I’ve had bad luck today.” She started with furrowed eyebrows, watching her with a small smile as she dried her hair. Her cheeks were flushed, probably from the cold outside, and you noticed her hands were still shaking a bit from the chill. 

Suddenly, you stand up and walk back to the kitchen bar, leaving her confused but letting her dry herself up. She didn’t notice it right away but you were making her usual coffee. An espresso with extra sugar and milk, you place a spoon in the cup and when it’s done, you walk back to her. 

Her eyes widened at your kindness but she took the cup, watching you sit next to her. “T-thank you so much.” Slowly she drank the coffee sip by sip with a smile. “I’m glad you like it.” You exclaimed, resting your hands on the table. 

“Y’know…” the start of your sentence made her look over to you, confusion splattered over her face. “I never got your name,” looking deeply inside her eyes, you send a signal of curiosity. “You’re a regular customer too.” 

At your words she just chuckled lightly and answered, “Yizhuo, Ning Yizhuo, but you can call me Ningning.” She said while giving you her hand as you shake it gently. Her name suited her—soft yet warm, warm like the presence she radiated when she was in your cafe. 

“Ningning,” you muttered, savoring the sound of it. “It’s nice to finally meet you properly.”

The rain continued to tap against the windows, casting a gentle rhythm to your quiet moment together. She finished the last sip of her coffee and set the cup down with a small sigh of satisfaction. Ningning looks into your eyes giving you the look of gentleness. “That coffee was… perfect,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, her eyes lingering on yours. 

What caught your attention were her eyes. SO dark yet so inviting, you were lost in them. Gazing at them you rested your left cheek on your hand. You chuckled, your voice soft, almost hesitant. “Glad I could make it just the way you like… especially on a day like this.”

She glanced down, a slight blush warming her cheeks, and you felt your heart racing with a quiet, steady joy. She stood up slowly, but then took a small step toward you, her gaze holding yours with a quiet intensity.

Before you could say anything, she leaned in,pressing her lips to your right cheek, a heartfelt kiss that left you holding your breath. The tension rising through the air, gentle and sweet, making the world outside the cafe feel distant and unknown.

“Thank you, really,” she whispered, her voice as soft as Ningning’s lips, her breath brushing against your skin. Her hand lingered on yours, squeezing lightly before she pulled away, her eyes shining with something tender and unspoken.

As she reached the door, she turned back to you. Ningning put on her jacket as she watched you try to formulate a sentence after what she did. “S-see you tomorrow?” you stuttered, your voice a little unsteady while still holding your right cheek. 

She chuckled at your stutterness, a gaze in her eyes that seemed to enjoy the whole moment. “tomorrow” she promised, her voice a soft whisper. With one last look, she slipped out into the rain, leaving you standing in the quiet cafe with the warmth of  her soft lips lingering on your cheek, and a memory that would stay with you like the hope of you seeing her tomorrow once again.

[harlowtales]

Y/N is in control leaving Jack trying to get the upper hand 🏋️‍♀️

18 + ONLY - Adult Themes 🚫 Minors

THE CLUB

Jack saw you walk in from where he was on the upper floor. You didn’t even know he was there. He had heard about you from The Homies talking about some girl named Y/N. “Naw she like fine fine bruh.” They said as they couldn’t shut up about meeting you. “And real cute, down to earth, you know how Midwest girls are.” They said nudging Jack as they hung out by Indi’s Chicken one day. It was always great to come home and chill. Jack was a Kentucky boy through and through.

“Don’t have to tell me brother.” Jack said with a side grin. “She all that huh?” He said to them as he finished his milk shake with a loud slurp.

“Yeah bruh. Cute as hell.” They all confirmed

“Invite her out tonight then” Jack said “The more the merrier”

“Bet, unlike these losers, I got her private IG.” Ace said as him and Jack parted ways “I’m texting her right now.”

“She on private huh?” Jack said with a raised brow. He was bored with the current selection in his hometown and had been with more than a few local girls making it hard to date. Meeting someone from out of town sounded fun and he preferred talking to people as private as him.

Jack had never really seen the guys like this about a girl. She must be SOMETHING. When he saw you he recognized you from the kickball game. Cutesy face, and thick as hell. He snuck down to the main area of the club. “I gotta see for myself what this chick is all about” he thought. “Hey Y/N?” You heard from behind you and a tap on your shoulder.

There was no mistaking whose voice that was. “In the flesh” You said sweetly turning around and causally sipping on your drink. This lit a spark in Jack he couldn’t explain and not sure he liked it.

“Not your typical way to answer that question.” Jack said. He was used to having a very disarming affect on women.

“Yeah you from the kickball game right? Even seen you at a couple shows. You know my boys huh?” He said trying to strike up a convo.

“Yeah, a little bit. They dope.” You answered. “Can’t believe you’re out. You don’t club it much as far as I know.” You said looking quizzically at him.

Jack couldn’t believe how regular you were treating him. “How she talking to me like I’m just some dude?” You were so chill it was throwing him off.

Just then The Homies started coming in. Ace came up to you immediately. “Y/N!” He excitedly said hugging you. Jack felt a way about Ace hugging you but didn’t know why.

“I live here now” You announced

“Da fuck!?” Ace said taking a few steps back while holding onto your hand which Jack was uncomfortable with. “Sweet, we’ll have to hang” Ace said hugging you again and holding on for a bit too long.

“Shit. Why did I tell him that?” You said to yourself as he seemed way too excited and you didn’t like him like that.

“Y/N lets dance!” Your friend said pulling you to the dance floor. Jack and Ace watched as you disappeared onto the crowded dance floor.

Jack could see Ace was much more interested than you were “What a weird chick.” He thought, but was curious.

THE GYM

“And 1! 2! 3!” The instructor shouted. “Get those knees up!” Why you decided to go to spin class after a night out you didn’t know. You regretted it the whole time but you weren’t the type to make excuses. As you were wiping your brow and downing some water you noticed someone in a hoodie over his head and headphones in a corner with a trainer.

“I’d know those curls popping out of that hoodie anywhere.” You said but headed to the treadmill as you didn’t want to bother him. You would enjoy the view of Jack working out from a distance.

“Come on bruh. Just a couple more. It’s light weight.” The trainer encouraged Jack.

“Ughhh!” Jack grunted as he did his last lift, the barbell crashing to the floor.

“Dassit!” His trainer exclaimed “You a beast man! Now rest for a bit.” He said

Jack took his headphones off and his hoodie as he was panting heavily. He threw his head back and downed an entire bottle of water in one go, his wet curls cascading and clinging to his face.

You almost fell off the treadmill watching him. He went back into his set. He bent over to lift the bar. This time his trainer added more weight. You looked on practically drooling as he clenched his butt and pulled on the bar.

“Ughhhh!” He said loudly as he dropped the bar again.

“He really needs to stop doing that.” You said to yourself trying to think of something else, you changed the music in your headphones and the incline on the machine. You decided to work off the sexual tension you were filled with by going hard.

“Hey easy tiger.” It was that voice behind you again. You heard it through your headphones. That deep raspy smooth voice rumbled through one of his songs you were listening to right now. Ironically this was like a scene right out of Funny Seeing You Here. You felt his presence strongly behind you and pretended not to hear.

Jack came around to the front of the treadmill now to get your attention. You flashed him a sweaty smile and continued running. It was hard for him to believe you fully intended on finishing what you were doing and not acting at all surprised to see him.

He waited for you to finish. “She on one.” He thought as he texted Urban. He was slightly irritated and turned on at the same time. “You finally done?” He said with tension in his voice as you slowed way down to a walk panting heavily.

“Sorry, you waiting to use the machine?” You asked him plainly like he was anyone.

Jack couldn’t believe you right now. “Naw” is all he could manage to say. He handed you your towel.

“Thanks” you said flippantly “Nice set.” You complimented motioning over to where you had seen him lifting weights “You really do be on demon time, and it shows.” You flung your towel over your shoulder nonchalantly and started walking away.

You threw him off again with the compliment while not seeming at all interested in him. This sent his competitive nature into overdrive.

“You want to hit the juice bar? My treat” Jack offered catching up with you.

“Um sure, thank you.” You said cautiously. You had heard about Jack and rappers in general.

“Let’s drink these outside” He said wanting to talk to you outside of the noisy gym.

You followed him to a grassy area through the patio doors of the juice bar into the fresh breeze, leaving the blaring music and hot stuffy gym in the distance.

“After you” Jack said letting you sit down on the bench first. You intimidated him and he wasn’t used to feeling that.

“So it’s Y/N right? That what people call you?” He asked.

“My full name is Y/N but Y/N will do” You said slurping on your fresh green juice.

“Always a smart fucking answer.” He thought. “Ok Y/N will do.” He said slightly irritated with air quotes “You just moved here?”

“Is this an interview?” You said flashing a cocky grin

“Yeah its a fuking interview.” Jack shot back “But I just decided I’m not hiring” He got up to leave in a huff, fed up with your slick answers.

“Jack, chill out, I’m just playing. Come on sit.” You said apologetically patting the spot beside you.

He was embarrassed he was showing his sensitivity and sat back down blushing. You had control and he didn’t know how you got it.

“I am a researcher and I’m doing my masters degree. I’m in Kentucky for work and… just a change, I guess.” You said not wanting someone with Jack’s reputation with women to know too much about you.

Jack admired you immediately. He was so impressed and in awe that you were not trying to be all up in the scene. You had your fun sometimes but was hard at work like him. “I really admire you for all you’re doing.” He said honestly “Most girls I know just trying to get with some rapper for a comfortable life.”

“Um no not me.” You said assuredly “I am set on furthering my education. I guess I’m a nerd to you and your friends. Welp, thanks for the juice Jackman.” You said tossing your cup. You were so nervous you gulped it down and had a brain freeze you were trying not to show.

“Ha!” He said pointing at you “I knew you were a real fan! Fucking knew it!!” He danced in victory as you had broken your cool facade by saying his government name. Only true fans called him Jackman and you did so casually.

“I don’t know what you mean. You alright, but lot of misses for me tbh.” You said trying to gain your power back.

“Naw, you said it. You outted yourself!” He was in trash talking mode now. “I knew it. I was like no way this girl so cool around me every time.”

This bothered you a bit. “Hold on Mr. Harlow.” You said looking him dead in the eye. “Don’t go thinking you’re all that.” You poked his chest with that tempting bit of chest hair poking out from his tank top.

“Well if there was ever any doubt you’re from the Midwest there it goes.” He said having fun now with this crack in your facade.

“How did you know that?” You said surprised

“My guys told me.” Jack said “Look let’s start over… Hi, I’m Jack.” He said holding out his soft hand for a truce handshake.

“What is this Chicken Shop Date?” You giggled “Mighty soft hands for someone lifting that kind of weight.” You said flirtatiously.

Your cool demeanour and ambition had Jack hooked “You’re not like these airheads out here.” He complimented moving close to so nobody could easedrop. “Can I take you out sometime?”

“That would be nice.” You said screaming inside with him moving in so close you could feel the heat from his body that towered over you.

“Damn. I gotta focus on her intelligence cuz that is a whole lotta ass.” Jack said to himself as he was mesmerized by the switch of your ass watching you walk in front of him. If you were his girl he would have slapped it from you being so sassy.

@itsyagirljaz @okaaay-mice @ride4harlow

[hannicorpse]

ʚ♡ɞ hopelessly devoted to you : episode one - see? you get me!

previous | masterlist | next

pairing : frat members yang jungwon x female reader

warnings : mentions of cheating, and jungwon jokes that he will unalive himself

wc : 0.9k + smau

preview : jungwon was always known as one of the more persistent members of the epsilon nu frat. so when he ran into you for the first time, he just knew he couldn’t get enough of you. even if you couldn’t be together because of your warring friend groups. but that doesn’t mean they had to know. right?

taglist ! @firstclassjaylee

you were never one for lectures. especially when your teacher doesn’t move fast and often goes overtime. but, at least class was over now. all you had to do was sprint over to the cafeteria since you were already running late.

like always, your friends were sitting down at your usual lunch spot, their trays already full in front of them.

“you’re late again,” karina complains as you sit down next to winter. “you should consider changing your schedule.”

“i don’t see a reason to change it though.” you spoke with a confused tone.

“karina has a point. a lot of your classes end up going overtime, and you only have a single class with us.” aeri points out, waving her fork around before going back to eating.

“yeah. and, you have at least one epsilon nu member in every other period. you see them more than us during a regular school day.” karina says.

“fair points all around. but, they’re not so bad.” you shrug. “besides, with ning and minjeong as my roommates? i think i see you guys enough..” you joked, ignoring their complaints in the background.

“i get where y/n’s coming from though.” says ning. “one time, i had to be partners with jay in bio. and he’s actually a gentleman, he’s pretty nice.”

“yeah, most of them are actually pretty chill. but, i’m sure karina can’t say the same about.. heeseung” minjeong agrees, before she whispers the man’s name.

karina immediately looked up from her plate, but her facial expression was unreadable. her neutral appearance was more nerving than the face she makes when you know she’s upset.

the core members of alpha epsilon and epsilon nu were not always rivals, seeing as heeseung and karina were once a power couple. but after heeseung decided to cheat on her at the beginning of their sophomore year, things began to take a turn.

the table remained silent until karina began to continue eating.

“i’m gonna go get lunch since i was like.. 25 minutes late. can someone come with me?” you announce, looking up at the clock to see you had a little less than 40 minutes left.

“they’re not gonna let us back in line. last time i went with winter after i already got food, they thought i was getting seconds and they sent me out.” aeri reminds you.

“fine. i’ll just go alone.” you roll your eyes.

the cafeteria food at decelis academy never disappoints. it was more than exceptional for such a prestigious college.

you grabbed a bowl of kimchi stew and a side of rice, along with some melons to go along with your meal.

at the end of the line, you reached for the last strawberry milk, only for a boy behind you to take it.

“oh- i’m so sorry. did you want this? here.” he spoke, handing you the single carton.

“oh no, it’s okay. i’ll just find something else.” you smile, waving your hands.

“i insist.” “are you sure?” “of course. i’ll just have banana milk instead.” the guy assured.

your hands briefly touch his as he places the milk into your palm.

“you look familiar. do i know you?” he asks.

“maybe. y/n lee. what about you?” “ah. as in alpha epsilon?” you nod to his question.

“yang jungwon.” “epsilon nu?” “the one and only.”

you chuckle at jungwon’s response.

“where are your friends anyway?” “they didn’t want to get lunch with me since i was late. you?” “same.”

“you wouldn’t happen to be mark’s sister, would you?” jungwon questions, again.

“i am. do you know him?” “yeah. heeseung’s on the basketball team with him.”

you smile nervously.

somehow, the atmosphere grew awkward at the mention of heeseung. however, he continued to smile. not an awkward expression, but a genuine one. you noticed the way his ears grew red when you held eye contact for a few moments.

“so, epsilon nu? you’re not as scary or mean as karina described.” you joke, breaking the silence.

“thanks. yeah, i guess karina and heeseung kind of butcher our groups images, huh?”

“yeah, she never mentioned how handsome you were either.”

jungwon’s cheeks turn into a rosy pink, as he brings a hand up to scratch the back of his neck.

“are you gonna eat the stew warm or will you just continue flirting in my line?” the lunch lady interrupts, cutting off your train of thought and bringing you both back into reality.

“sorry miss!” you both bow, moving down along the line.

“so, i’ll see you around?” he questions.

“yeah. i hope so.” you smile, before walking in the opposite direction.

“bro, you were gone for like 15 minutes. where were you?” jake asks as jungwon sat back down.

“the line was just long.” he shrugs, making up an excuse, hoping his friends will buy it.

everyone goes back to eating, but jungwon doesn’t notice the way sunghoon and jake look at him, their suspicions rising.

“y/n, i know you’re slow, but it does not take half of the remaining lunch period to get food.” aeri jokes.

“sorry. i didn’t expect the line to be so long.”

“yeah, and mr hwang has a big class. maybe it was just y/n’s other classmates getting lunch too.” ning adds on, causing you to look at her with an eyebrow raised.

ningning leans into your ear to whisper, “you’re lucky karina’s in the bathroom, or i wouldn’t have been the only one to see you talking with yang jungwon.”

[homelanderbutbig]

The Milk Box (G/T Homelander x Reader)

1270 words. Pure fluff. Homelander is 8 feet tall. Reader is non-descriptive. Established relationship.

You and Homelander share some milk. Inspired by a conversation with @sehtoast, and a suggestion by @slasher-smasher.

It started out as a joke gift for Homelander, a subscription to 'The Milk Box' where every month he would be shipped a crate of specialty milk. Initially, he took one look at this box and scoffed, rolling his eyes at this silly present you got for him. However, it did not take long for the monthly milk arrival to become an anticipated event.  

Today's the day the next shipment is set to be delivered, and Homelander is stressed. The waiting is the hardest part for the man who can have anything at the snap of his fingers, but he displays a high level of restraint from flying to the post office and retrieving the box himself, because he knows how annoyed you'd be with him. Instead, he's pestering Ashley every five minutes for an update on the box's tracking location. Yelling at her to keep him informed every second, while he's pacing back and forth in an attempt to stay grounded.

And then, the moment finally comes. The second the mailman enters Vought Tower with the package, Homelander is rushing to your office, practically bulldozing through your door. It doesn't even matter to him that you are in the middle of a meeting, this is more important.

You barely have time to understand what is happening before you are yanked away from your computer, held close against his chest with one of his immovable hands. He whisks you into the nearest elevator, giving its occupants just enough time to run out, before he hits the button to take you both up to his penthouse. Yet, it can't move fast enough as he bounces in anticipation.

The instant the elevator dings, he moves so fast into the penthouse he practically flies to the dining room, taking his seat while keeping you propped up on his lap. He's left a knife out on the table for you to open the package, as it's become tradition during these unboxing days. With a large hand on your shoulder, he watches intently as you slice along the packing tape. Even though the scent of dairy is overtaking his sense of smell, he suppresses his X-ray vision to not spoil the surprise of this shipment's contents.

Finally, the suspension is relieved as you open the box, unveiling the twelve glass bottles of specialty milk. They are chilled to a perfect temperature thanks to the dry ice packed around each bottle. Homelander is fixated on your hands as you carefully remove each bottle from the box, lining them up in front of the both of you. This month's crate comes from a local farm, featuring 1% milk, 2% milk, whole milk, chocolate milk, and unhomogenized milk.

Grabbing two bottles of the unhomogenized milk, Homelander's favourite, you pass one to him as you both unscrew your lids. He takes the time to deeply inhale through his nose, closing his eyes as the intoxicating dairy scent floods into his lungs.

You both take a sip of the milk, though your reaction is a lot more subdued than Homelander's. What you taste is very similar to the regular milk you drink. For him, it's a feast for his taste buds. The low-fat milk bottom portion dances between textures of smooth, creamy, and silky; the high-fat cream top portion coats his tongue with consistencies of sweet, foamy, and rich. He can perceive the faint tones of grass from the cow's diet, and the freshness of the farmer's harvest.

Regardless, it's not just about the taste of the milk. As a child created in a lab, he never had the opportunity to know his real mother, or be raised by an actual family. He was never able to relate to your childhood memories, having a cold glass of milk every day after school. In a way, drinking milk is the closest thing he has to connect to the childhood he missed out on, and nothing makes it better than being able to share this comforting experience with you, a person who truly cares for him.

"Mmm…" he mumbles, tipping his head back with his eyes still closed. His tense shoulders are now totally slack, letting go of the stress he's been holding onto all day, solely waiting for this moment.

"You like it?" you ask him, stroking his hand that is still on your shoulder.

"Yeah. They got a good batch this time," he remarks, licking his lips before downing the rest of the bottle. It leaves a delectable aftertaste on his tongue.

"What do you mean? Is unhomogenized milk not the same each time?" you ponder. To you, it tastes the same every month.

"Really?" he huffs in disbelief. Homelander takes his hand from your shoulder to start listing off on his fingers. "There's… there's so much that can effect the taste of milk! If there are preservatives or additives, what temperature it's pasteurized at, what the cow is eating… D-do you even know how the differences of the fat content can change the taste?"

You look up at him silently, grinning as he goes off on a tangent about the history of milk pasteurization and homogenization. Your innocent question about one of his passions has very easily gotten him riled up, although it doesn't take much to get him going on topics he loves. He's like a walking encyclopedia, and you cherish seeing him so invested in his hobby of learning new things.

"I love you, you know," you chuckle, leaning your head back onto his pecs. You catch a glimpse of Homelander's brain shutting down from your sudden praise. You took him right out of the middle of a rant, and instantly flustered him with your honest affection.

Putting your bottle down on the table, you turn around and kneel on his thighs so your face is up to his own. You giggle as he tries to angle away from you, hiding that his cheeks have turned red. However, he doesn't fight when you place your hands on his jaw and coax his face back towards you. His eyes are big blue windows into his soul, exposing how easily you overwhelm his emotions with the little ways you love him. But you can just as easily settle him down with those same little ways.

You lean in for a kiss, and bring your hands up to run them through his undercut. Almost immediately, Homelander sighs and closes his eyes, placing his hands on your back so he can sink into you. He purrs from the way your nails scratch his scalp, quickly letting go of that self-consciousness he felt from you bamboozling his train of thought with a simple 'I love you'.

When you break from your kiss, you keep your foreheads pressed together. His eyes open to gaze directly at you, now so serene. It's like you know how to flip the switch in his brain when he needs to calm down.

"You wanna have another bottle of milk? I'd love for you to tell me more about the different kinds," you say softly, caressing his cheek. A sneaky smile slowly spreads across his face.

"I haven't even gotten to modern milk production techniques yet," he chuckles, nuzzling into your nose. You can't help but laugh, but you know he's serious.

And you look forward to it, just to let Homelander have a chance to partake in something he wasn't permitted to enjoy when he was young. Just to allow him to get in touch with his inner child he neglects so heavily. Just to see that childlike innocence buried within himself have a chance to shine.