#no picture because it's too dark but. uh. nice?

[tiktaaliker]

ok ok WAIT. just found out that the little glass stingray my grandpa got me like 5 or 6 years ago GLOWS. why da hell did I never notice it. is my silly little stingray radioactive

[dadsbongos]

5 times laios almost says he loves you + 1 time he does

2 k words / warnings - momentary lead up to smut (foreplay/roleplay), modern au w fantasy elements

summary - laios wants to tell you he loves you, but keeps getting interrupted.

~~~

When Laios was a kid, he'd imagined a tri-headed beast crossbred from reptiles, mammals, and birds attacking all his problems. Recently, that image has been… tweaked…

Now when he's afflicted by demeaning nightmares or stiff social situations, the power he summons to crush all which is dark sided is, surprisingly, a human.

A mere person.

His partner.

Every time you appear in his dream, Laios wakes up in a massively good mood. Whenever Laios pictures you over the unpleasant sight of strangers, he can suddenly bear unwelcome conversation. Whenever Laios so much as spots you, his whole day elevates -- swirling into something brighter and sweeter. Misery to melon juice, he’s absolute goo as soon as you’re in the room.

And everybody except him knows what his deal is. Similarly, they know it’ll take a miserably long while before he can spit it out.

the time where you’re naked

“I wanna learn human anatomy, can you pose nude for me?”

You choke on your water, trying to laugh off the awkward question with a couple chest-pats, “Can't you just look at porn for that stuff? I don't mind, you know?”

“Nah, I wanna draw you.”

“Oh! Uh, okay…” you cross the floor, drawing the curtains to your living room before stiffly beginning to disrobe, “Like… right now?”

“Mhm,” Laios nods excitedly.

“‘kay then.”

Sweat practically oozes down Laios’ forehead, shoulders knotted towards his jaw as he obsessively studies each roll and dip along your body. Trying to copy you down on sketch paper that’s now marred with charcoal and eraser strokes. Drawing has never been something Laios cared to prove himself for, he knows what he’s skilled with and doesn’t fret over what he isn’t. Until now, now he feels the utmost need to prove himself.

To prove how devoted he is to perfecting your body on paper because how else will his adoration be known?

Because trust: he does adore your body. So pretty. And tender. And so very welcoming to him, just like you. Laios adores your personality more than your body -- you’re nice and funny and understanding and, most importantly, you like him. You seriously like him. His rants about monsters, his social ineptitude, his shameless nature: you’re verily into all of it.

And, in turn, he’s into you. He’s so into you it makes him want to choke himself in excitement whenever you lock eyes.

He’s so into you he thinks he loves you.

Laios pauses mid stroke on your thigh: it’s a little skinnier than the fleshy counterpart. So he erases again and lets the realization fizz over him slowly.

He definitely loves you. Unfortunately the sudden thought makes him so emotional he’s tearing up.

the time you’re on a date

Flickering overhead fluorescents are hideously unflattering to customers and staff alike at the diner. Not you, though. Somehow you make them work, even though everytime Laios catches his reflection in a window he looks absolutely ghoulish. The pale wash of sickly light almost makes you seem like a varnished painting.

You’re not even aware of his obsessing, too busy scanning the menu, “I’m looking at the breakfast for dinner options, but I dunno what I want…”

Laios wants you, and he figures the best way to get it out is just saying it.

“I lo- !” he’s silenced by a woman cheerfully greeting the both of you.

Her broad grin tackles him like a personal slight.

“So, what can I get started for you guys?”

Laios swallows his frustration with a wash of chilled water, letting the rhythm of your voice soothe him. Now the mood is ruined. Too stuffy with this onlooker.

Oh, well, he sighs quietly before ordering his own dish; paying no mind to how the server silently questions his moody demeanor.

There’s always more chances.

the time where you’re naked pt. 2

When you’re genuinely asleep, your lashes consistently flutter against your cheeks with each jerk beneath your eyelids. Your lips are parted to let air puff between, and usually you’ll curl your arms towards your chest -- which Laios finds so cute it makes him want to bite you. Sweetly, of course. Not enough to draw blood, unless you say he can.

Either way, he’s fully aware you’re not really sleeping. Which he considers preferable since the secondary act of roleplay doesn’t work if you aren’t awake.

Suddenly, you roll onto your stomach and stretch along the bed -- perking your ass up with a faux drowsy mumble. Laios can register you’re trying to spur him on, a more emotional exhaustion gnawing your spirit the longer he goes without touching you.

Laios has never been able to fanatically explain Incubi mating before he met you (well: he skimmed through it with Kabru, but that didn’t feel impactful), and furthermore, he’s never been able to act it out. Nobody before you seemed the type to accept his interest in portraying a sleeping body about to be bred by an Incubus.

Nobody before you is even worth remembering, Laios steps forward with fingers trailing up the bed and teasing your ankle. Mouth opening, he’s gearing up to confess when suddenly a voice not his own breaks the scene first:

“Laios, please,” you mutter, pouting so adorably he feels like his chest is about to explode, “I don’t wanna be mean, but I need you to hurry it up.”

“Now we have to restart,” Laios steps back until he’s pressed against the bedroom door, “Okay, I’ll go faster this time,” then he grins, “That’ll be even more realistic if I rush in! You’re so smart!”

By the time Laios re-enters the room, his confliction of pure love has been stifled in favor of lust.

the time you’re out with friends

Earplugs are snug in Laios’ ears, cushy and pressing against every crevice of his ear, as he slouches into the booth across from Senshi. He’s sliding a mug of beer from hand-to-hand, leaving a condensation trail along the shiny veneer of the table. Beside him is a gaping hole he laments, belonging to you, as does the margarita saucer. Melting ice chips and an olive Laios promised to eat are the only remnants of your drink.

Otherwise, it all seems to be pumping through you like hot blood. A beaming grin alight on your face as you and Chilchuck bounce around each other on the dance floor. You’re holding hands in the cramped throng of guests so as to not lose each other, and Laios shocked Marcille by not getting the least bit jealous.

“I trust them,” he reasoned, “It’s not like I’m the only person allowed to touch their hands now.”

Not that he’d like to be, either. Laios thinks everyone should touch your hand at least once: it’s soft and warm and you’ve got the perfect grip strength. Just holding your hand makes Laios want to be a better, more upstanding citizen that votes and volunteers. That sort of inspiring spirit is something he couldn’t dream of caging.

You’re like a human morphine injection confounded with pure sunlight, and Laios is already a baked sucker.

“Don’t wanna join?” Senshi slides along the black leather seat until he’s squeezed out from their booth, “You won’t be so young forever, you know? Best to take advantage while you can.”

Laios can barely make out what his friend says, combining muffled gibberish with the shape his lips made and praying he’s assumed correct, “I like just watching them.”

Senshi’s gaze follows Laios’ pointing, he nods slowly and pitters off with another few mumbles.

Laios cannot handle anything outside the safety of your group’s booth. Music too loud and air too hot the further he crawls along the dance floor, so he leaves that to you. And Chilchuck. But mostly you.

Life has many opportunities for him to sway with you to music: in your shared apartment, at friends�� weddings, and fairs. He can handle not taking this particular once to dance with you, and besides just watching is enough.

He whispers affection into the club, naturally you catch none of what he says.

the time where you’re naked pt. 3

Your nails scratch over Laios’ scalp, rinsing bubbles from between sandy strands of hair. His head is tilted, neck beginning to ache from the angle as you finish scrubbing his hair clean. Fingers snatch him by the chin, forcing his head back until water is trailing down his spine and shaking out his head with finality.

“There,” you push onto your toes to kiss his cheek, making him hurry to stabilize you by snagging your hips, “All clean!”

“Thanks,” Laios fails to release you, instead letting you spin in his hands towards the wall for your body wash -- the brand he bought you for your birthday once and you always kept going back to.

“If you’re gonna keep groping me, wash my back, yeah?”

“I’m not groping,” Laios protests weakly, frowning at the perverse accusation. Though he doesn’t pause before uncapping your soap and squirting a heap into his palm, then yours when you hold your hand out expectantly.

You scale down your legs, from the inside of your thighs to your shins as Laios lathers your back. He shifts a step aside to let water coax soap foam down the curve of your spine. Then he’s stepping back entirely, eyes lingering inappropriately. If he was able to die staring at you, then he’d take that certainty in a heartbeat.

Now, right? Now is the perfect time for him to get it all out there. Nobody else is in your apartment. It's domestic and quiet and so, so peaceful.

“Hey,” he calls over the thrumming showerhead, and you hum sweetly in reply, “I lo- !” he bravely takes another step, a lost bar of soap slotting perfectly under the arch of his foot, “Fuck!”

“Huh?” you turn in time to gasp as Laios tumbles forward. Yanking down the shower curtain in a feeble attempt to catch himself before his skull thuds loudly against the tile wall, “Oh my God, Laios!”

His body collapses against the wall before limply sinking into the shallow tub. Your petrified face blurring out in favor of deep,

rich

black.

+1 - the time Laios had a head injury

“Can you see straight? How many fingers am I holding up?”

Laios smiles at your flagrant concern, enveloping your shaky hand with his own and bringing it toward his thigh -- still damp from the shower and barely covered by the boxers you hastily dressed him with, “I can see fine. Let’s leave the doctors to do the testing stuff.”

“I thought you were done for! I was so scared,” you don’t fare much better than Laios in the clothing department: shorts he knows are his wrapped around your waist, and shirts clinging uncomfortably to both your wet bodies.

“Aw,” he coos, leaning closer to peck your cheek, “I wouldn’t go down from a hit like that. My head’s a lot sturdier than some shower wall.”

“I know, but still! How terrifying, you just- !” you slap a hand against your thigh, “Boom!”

“Well, you got me to the hospital pretty fast,” Laios squeezes his hand around yours, “So even if I was dying -- which I wasn’t -- I definitely would’ve lived with how fast you were going.”

“I almost didn’t dress us, and then I spent the whole time you were asleep wondering if I got you killed by wasting the time.”

“Like I said, I wouldn’t die like that,” he shrugs, “I can’t die before I tell you I love you.”

“Huh?!”

“I love you, by the way,” he sighs, a hand splayed over his chest with apparent relief, “Now I can die.”

You laugh, head throwing back in glee before you can catch your breath, then patting his thigh with a smile, “No, you can’t die. Because I love you too, so you can’t just die on me.”

Laios’ cheeks flush, he nods curtly, “Cool.”

“Cool?”

“I spent so long trying to get it out that I never planned what to say when you told me you loved me back.”

Laios is so cute you want to bite him in half, and you’re unbelievably relieved to hear he feels the same.

[laundrybiscuits]

(ETA: now edited and up on AO3)

Look. Eddie knows he can be a little uptight about these things, but. There are rules. If you become a vampire, you don’t need to go full gothic Count Von Dickhead or whatever, but you absolutely cannot just wander around in a puffy vest and light-wash jeans. 

“Why not?” says Steve. He’s leaning back in an armchair, sipping on a bloodbag like it’s a goddamn juicebox. “What, are the vampire police going to arrest me?” 

He pauses. “Wait. There aren’t vampire police, are there?”

“No,” says Eddie. “Probably not. I don’t know. But there are standards which you are refusing to uphold, Steven.”

“Thought you were all about hating conformity, Edward,” Steve says. He’s got an obnoxiously cocky little smirk, the smug undead fucker. 

Eddie grimaces. “Don’t call me that, asswipe. Don’t you feel, like—the call of the night? The siren song of life coursing through fragile human veins? A hunger for destruction that those paltry plastic bags of blood can never truly slake?”

“The bloodbags aren’t so bad,” says Steve, around the straw. “Better than protein shakes.”

“I actually hate you,” Eddie tells him. “Vampirism is wasted on you.”

Steve noisily slurps the last of the blood out of the bottom of the bag. “Come on, you can’t really picture me in some Dracula getup, can you?”

The problem, of course, is that Eddie really, really can. When Robin had read him in on the whole situation, obviously he’d been horrified and concerned—but also, a whole wing of his brain had immediately been cordoned off to work overtime imagining Steve in elaborate Dark Prince regalia, maybe leaning elegantly out of a castle window on the moors, gazing into the foggy dusk. Velvet might’ve been involved.

“...guess not,” says Eddie. It doesn’t sound incredibly convincing to his own ears, but Steve just shrugs and gets up to throw the bloodbag away. 

“There you go, man,” he says, clapping Eddie on the shoulder as he passes. “It’s the 80s. Vampires can be whatever we wanna be.”

———

It gets way too easy to forget about Steve’s condition, until Eddie ends up having to haul him out of a bar in Indy before they get banned for life.  

“Simmer down, buddy,” Eddie says, pulling him into the shadow of the van. “Let’s get those fangs packed away before any of the nice villagers wander by with torches and pitchforks.”

“I’m good,” pants Steve. “It’s all good. Don’t worry about it. It’s fine.”

Eddie lifts an unimpressed eyebrow. “Sure, that’s why your eyes are glowing red and you’re, like, fully vamped out. Which, by the way, looks extremely dumb with the whole clean-cut vibe you decided to rock tonight.”

“Fuck you, I look great,” says Steve, pushing a hand through his hair. He’s not wrong, it’s just not relevant to how he also looks extremely dumb like this, wearing a pristine henley with fangs hanging out in the parking lot for anyone to see.

“So what the hell happened in there, man? I was finally starting to get somewhere with Todd, and…” Eddie trails off in dawning realization.

“Holy shit, am I—I’m like your territory, aren’t I? Your stupid vampire brain got all screwy and decided to loop me in with Robin and the kids as part of your freaky human coven.”

“Uh,” says Steve. He looks unhappy in a shifty kind of way. “Something like that, maybe.”

“Wait, so, are Nancy and Jonathan—are you okay with them because they’re both already in the vamp pack? Is Vickie gonna have to be inaugurated before she and Robin can bone down?” Eddie perks up. “Shit, is there a ceremony? We could totally do a ceremony.” He bets he can get the kids to liberate some velour curtains from the drama club. With a few candles, they could get some serious atmosphere going.

“No, shut up, nobody’s doing a damn ceremony,” Steve groans. “Vickie’s fine.” 

“Okay,” says Eddie. “So…you gonna tell me what all that was about, then? Do I have to start running guys past you first so your vamp instincts don’t wig out? Or…hm, maybe Argyle’d be down to mess around sometime.”

Steve lets out an actual snarl with weird animal echoes, then claps a hand over his mouth.

“Sorry,” he says, muffled. The shadows around them seem darker somehow. 

“So I’m just not allowed to get laid ever again,” says Eddie slowly. “For vampire reasons.”

“Do whatever you want, man.” Steve’s still got his hand pressed tight over his mouth. 

“And it’s…just me?” Eddie peers at the tightness around Steve’s eyes; the way he’s scowling stubbornly at his feet. “Huh. Kind of…possessive, Harrington.”

“It’s—weird,” says Steve miserably, dropping his hand at last. “I know it’s fucking weird.”

“Maybe.” Eddie shrugs, biting down on the grin he can feel tugging at his mouth. “Lucky for you, I’m into that shit.”

“What?” Steve frowns. “You’re…”

“Always wanted a vampire boyfriend,” says Eddie. “Like, are you kidding? I would’ve sold my fucking soul at 15 for something like that.”

“I’m starting to feel a little objectified here,” says Steve, but he’s smiling, and he reaches out to snag Eddie’s belt loop and tug him stumbling closer. “Just in it for the fangs, huh?”

“Well, you’re kind of a shitty vampire, actually.” Eddie drapes his arms over Steve’s shoulders. “So I guess I must just be in it for you.”

Steve hesitates, searching Eddie’s face. Stray red lights are still sparking like embers in Steve’s irises. “Okay, but—you’re in it? Right?”

“Couldn’t get rid of me if you tried, Bunnicula. I’ll send the vampire police after you, just watch me,” says Eddie, and kisses him.

[elixrr]

“I might be in love with you.”

How they realized they were in love.

ft. Xiao, Wanderer

Xiao：

When you held him amidst his karma.

The most interesting part of the tale? You weren't there. But he saw you. Even through the fights with himself and the surrounding darkness, he saw you— the way your sleeves fell loose on your shoulders, the way your feet glided along a garden of lilies and the way the silk and linen of your clothes weaved around your body. Even when he felt his body shatter in vigorous pain, Xiao saw the luminous glow of the moonlight reflecting off of your skin. The scenery of the dark, star-filled sky with the vibrant glaze lilies surrounding you had crafted such a beautiful picture in Xiao's head that, when he snapped back to reality, he could no longer feel the hurt. There was simply you. He couldn't see you, but he thought of you, and, even with his loyalty to Rex Lapis, he still smiled, thanking you for saving him from his karmic outburst.

But, wait a minute.

You weren't even there? How did you save him? Xiao pondered back on the image he created in his mind. It definitely wasn't something he saw, and it definitely isn't something happening now. It is night, but it is far too dark. The vibrancy of the moonlight is not present, and the bright, shining stars are instead clouded by fog and translucent mist. He definitely couldn't picture you outside right now, especially at this hour.

Hold on. What if you really were out? He is on Wuwang Hill, so of course it's foggy. What if it was brighter for you? What if the moonlight found its way to you instead?

What if that vision of you was real?

Without a second thought or consideration for his duties, he teleported to the balcony of Wangshu Inn, where he could have the possibility of seeing you, and indeed, he did see you. He teleported to a tree that stood by you, leaning on it. The remaining pain of the karma seemed to whisk away, yet his heart beat hastened. Something about how you brushed your finger against the bulb of a sweet flower made him smile.

“Xiao?” You whispered, and he swore he could feel the sun rioting the moon and rising amidst the darkness of the night.

“You called?”

“Oh!” You nearly jumped out of your skin. “That was unexpected. You actually came!”

“Of course I did. I made a promise to you, and I will honor it.”

A smile fell upon your face, and Xiao froze in place.

“Especially because it's me, I presume?”

“Wh—” Roses blossomed on his cheeks, and his heart exploded into petals.

“I'm kidding, I'm kidding. I wanted to ask if you'd be willing to walk home with me? I haven't seen you in a while, so maybe we could catch up?”

“Uh–m, I— Sure. That would be... Quite nice.”

“Oh, wow, you actually said yes!” You cheered, and Xiao's eyes glistened. It was perfect, this moment, because the clouds dispersed, and the stars and moon finally found themselves visible, shining through the clouds. You've conquered the spotlight tonight, and you've conquered Xiao's world, even if he couldn't tell.

But, you extended your hand to Xiao. This was just like his illustration of you from earlier, but he was now included. The moonlight reflected on your skin, your clothes weaved magically across your body, and surrounding the two of you were a field of flowers.

Xiao, without much thinking, grasped your hand tight, and you held it, too.

He felt a bloom in his heart, and the world around him brightened. Even as you were talking, he couldn’t pay attention to a word you said. You were graceful, and he felt the strangeness in the way your fingers interlocked with his.

You weren't holding him, really, but you held him somehow. In fact, you stole him away from the old world he lived in, introducing him to something new, something unique.

And in that moment, somewhere in the combination of his mind and heart swelled, sweeping in to tell him and make him realize that he was in love.

That he was in love with you.

Wanderer：

When you fell ill for the sake of him.

Kuni remembers it. His birthday came soon, and because it never snowed in Sumeru, the flowers still found themselves vibrant. Though, something in him found you to be more colorful and much more appealing to look at than a few colored petals and a stem, yet he could never bring himself to admit it; his pride would shatter and you would become giddy, and— if there was finally a heart to replace his hollow body— he would feel a twinge in his chest and an ache in the hollow shell of himself. Kuni figures that, because he has no heart, he is therefore heartless, meaning that this twinge in his chest can not be love like Nahida had suggested time and time again. Rather, this ache symbolized a feel of annoyance. After all, if he did have a heart, how would he be able to mercilessly kill so many people and commit so many sins?

Yet, he would catch you again and again, plucking the most beautiful, rare, and exotic flowers in Sumeru. Many of which were far too dangerous to even obtain, and that was something he realized far too late. He trusted you slightly. Actually, he didn't trust you. Kuni trusted Tighnari because you have consulted the expert many times about the flowers you picked.

But, one day, you fell ill. It wasn't due to the flowers or anything similar, but due to the weather. Kuni had been coincidentally passing by for a research project, and he stumbled upon you by a hillside, unconscious, bleeding, and sickly. You were lucky enough to forget your basket of flowers, meaning you hadn't lost any of your previously collected ones, but you were still quite unlucky. It was pouring, and atop a hill was a beautiful kalpalata lotus flower. It wasn't a terrible walk, except you were sick, and you ended up slipping and falling to what could've been your doom.

The moment Kuni saw you, he paid no mind to the flowers, nor did he care at all about his research. He needed to help you, and he, as quickly as he could, flew you over to Gandharva Ville, where he almost screamed for forest rangers to come and help you.

As you laid on the bed unconscious, Kuni stayed with you. He never left your side once.

And then you woke up.

“...What?” The pain in your head wrung from side to side, front and back. Your nose was significantly stuffier. Kuni, happy and terrified, immediately rushed over to you.

“Idiot! What were you doing out there?” He yelled, holding back the urge to punch himself for not finding you sooner, “You could've died from that sort'a height!”

“Sir, please, lower your voice. Y/N's healing process could falter if you don't shut up.” Tighnari hissed, and the two glared at each other.

“Fine, sorry. But still, what were you thinking? My birthday or whatever isn't that big a deal, and it's really not worth your damn life.” Kuni sat down on the stool next to the bed, and you looked down at the provided blankets.

“I mean, I'm not dead,” you conjure up a smile and hold in a cough, “but yeah. That was sort of stupid, but it would've been worth it if I did get you the flower.”

“What? You're mentally insane.”

“I could be.”

“That's— That's so stupid!” Why do all of that... for me? Kuni feels his chest ache again.

“Oh, it was. But hey, I'm really stupid when it comes to you.”

“What?” Kuni's eyes furrow, and Tighnari almost slams his head into the desk after hearing that.

“I mean that I'm literally stupid for you. Why else would I leave and get flowers when it's raining and when I'm sick?”

Something clicks in Kuni's head. He saw some of his peers in class talk about this phrase and suddenly connect it to some girl who was in love with a guy and...

Wait.

“I'm leaving. I'll be back— you'd better be conscious!”

“I can't guarantee that, but I'll try.”

Kuni leaves the room, frustrated. Nahida has said that he likes you, his peers have said the same thing, and maybe...

“I'm literally stupid for you.”

“That idiot..” He smiles, looking through the window to see you talking to Tighnari, who appears to be scolding you for being so careless with your health. Kuni holds in a chuckle and turns around. His ache resurfaces in his chest, and he grips the part of his top that covers his 'heart'.

Maybe, just maybe—

“I'm making a bouqet for you on your birthday!”

—maybe he is in love with you.

y/n's real name is robloxnation3000 /j

[squinch-depraved]

schlatt waking you up and using you however he wants (ib an irl experience kinda?? also first fic i've shared let's gooo sorry it's so short and possibly bad i wanted to get my first real post out on his birthday 😔) (shaking crying scared throwing up pls be nice to me)

you weren't sure when exactly you woke up. maybe it was when the door first creaked open and shut, quickly and quietly. maybe somewhere in the next few stagnant silent seconds in which he seemed to contemplate what he was doing, his broad frame pausing in front of the exit just long enough to think, fuck it, before his footsteps led him to the side of your bed. maybe it was when you felt his cock on your face and heard, "smile, toots," just to open your eyes to a bright flash. he was sitting on you now, pinning you down and smacking his throbbing shaft all over your face. a small whimper forces its way past your lips and he laughs.

"j, 'm so tired," you whine.

"you're the one who said i could use you whenever." he grips your chin in one hand when you try to turn away.

"didn't say you could take pictures," you retort, grabbing a pillow and hiding under it.

"needed something for when we're apart. now stop fuckin' talking, or i'm gonna ruin you even worse than i already plan to." the pillow is thrown off the bed before he's even done speaking. "and don't hide this pretty little face when i'm lookin' at it." he pauses for a moment, and then spits on your face. it's humiliating. it's pathetic. but it makes you so, so wet. and he can tell.

he throws your blanket somewhere, and you sigh because you know once he's done with you you'll have to get out of bed to go get it again. unimportant and worth it compared to what's about to happen. a grin lights up his face when he notices you aren't wearing anything but one of his sweaters.

"fuck, doll," he breathes. "were you expecting this or somethin'?" dipping his finger into your slick and bringing it to his mouth, he groans. "never mind, i don't fucking care, just- ugh, just keep lookin' pretty while i use you like the stupid toy you are."

you squeal as he slides himself between your legs and wastes no time slamming himself into you.

"god, toots, slid in so easily, huh? you that wet for me?"

he snickers when you can't say anything back, too sleepy and delirious from his dick to manage a reply. one hand comes up to wrap around your throat while the other holds himself steady as he pounds into you at a relentless pace. what was, before this, a quiet bedroom, is now a dark, echoey chamber of moans and grunts, skin on skin sounds bouncing off the wooden furniture and slate grey walls. pleasure dances through your limbs, settling as an ever-building burning deep in your core. you try to speak with his hand still around your neck.

"j, 'm gonna-"

"i don't care, y/n, either come on my cock or don't but shut up," he pants.

and so you do. you come undone, digging your nails into his back through his sweater. a few moments later, he speeds up a bit and grunts, burying his face into your neck and spilling a rather large load into you. you both stay there for a few minutes, content and unsure of what to say. finally, he looks up at you and smiles slightly.

"sorry. i, uh. i just needed. that," he mumbles. you pet his hair and kiss his forehead.

"get the fuck off me so i can clean up and sleep."

[sunshine304]

FTH Fanbinding: "Concord" by Deastar

@youhideastar won my FTH auction and gave me a great gift: She wanted me to bind her CQL fic "Concord" including the thorough author's commentary she'd done. I was so happy when she chose this fic because I'd loved it so much and had pondered doing a fanbinding of it at some point anyway. 😄

Now that the book has finally arrived (spending two days in the air even, I guess, at least when one looks at the tracking info 😆), I can show it off here!

I tried some new stuff on this bind and also some things that I'd only done once before and that definitely need some, uh, perfecting. 😅 But overall, I'm very pleased with how this book turned out, as it's pretty close to what I'd imagined when I started it.

The fic is set in Cloud Recesses and Dea and I agreed that the colour blue should be prominent in the design, as it not only fits the setting, but also is of significance in the story itself. As the rules and traditions of the Lan sect also are quite important, I wanted a very clean, simple style for the case, a bit reminiscent of traditional Chinese bindings.

I did the title as a cut-out and used Japanese transparent paper for some extra flavour. The paper shows up inside the book as well early on and I liked the recurring motive of it. I'm also really pleased how well the hot foil came out on it! I was a bit scared that it might rip or something, but it's quite sturdy, after all.

I thought about doing a faux stab binding with red thread to get even more of a traditional feel, but then decided against it as I'd wanted to use two different blue book cloths and I felt that it might get too busy. Instead, I used the red ribbon as a nod to Wei Wuxian.

The little cloud illustration is used several times in the typeset and I like how it comes out in the title. I didn't even mess up this title, yay! (Mine's got a few tiny blotches but uh well, better mine than Dea's!)

I painted the edges with metallic watercolours - the second time I tried painting edges, but this time with several colours and trying to do a little illustration as well. Big thanks to @zhalfirin who quickly answered my question about how to get the paint to actually stick. 😆 I'd read several posts about how awesome water colours are for foreedge painting, but none mentioned that this kind of paint just rubs off again (I am no artist and have no knowledge of different kinds of paint). Zhalfirin told me to mix in glue and also wax the edges afterwards, which I both did and I think it's fine now. At least my fingers didn't turn blue. 😅

I really love how the shading came out on the head/tail; it could've been better on the foreedge and it looked great while the paint was still wet. Steep learning curve, this thing. I also died trying to sand the edges and I didn't get them completely smooth, but at least smooth enough to work with. That also needs some more work, I guess.

First time I sewed endbands with four different colours! I think they came out quite well! I also forgot the second row of dark blue on Dea's book and had to unravel half the endband again when I noticed at the very end... 🤦‍♀️

Nice marbled endpapers. For the title page spread, I used part a very famous Chinese painting, as it not only reminds me of the Gusu mountains but also, again, is very traditional. I played around with the colours to give the picture a bit of a bluer tinge.

The typeset itself was very straight-forward. There's the fic without commentary, and then the second part with it. I used a grey background for the comment parts to make it stand out from the actual story.

I had lots of printer issues with this fic (my copy actually had even more issues because the printer treated every page as an image for unknown reasons and therefore it not only took forever, it's also a tiny bit blurry. Hmpf.) and the greys tended to have a bit of a blue tinge, which was not my intention. But at least it works with the overall theme, I guess! 😅

I also did an extensive Appendix with all the meta links mentioned in the commentary as well as cut scenes and a little "praise for the author" section.

Last but not least, I decided to try making a slipcase for the first time! DAS_Bookbinding on youtube has good tutorials on that and I used one of them. It worked well on the first try. The second try, I used sturdier cardboard and should've added a few millimetres to the width, because the book didn't fit - the ribbon got stuck and I feared that it might get damaged. So I had to redo the case and then it was perfect.

I used wallpaper as cover material. 😄 The one you see on the outside? That's my living room wallpaper, a light blue with a lovely pattern and soft shimmer to it. My camera unfortunately is refusing to get the colour right.🤷‍♂️

The assembling process went well, for the most part. I'd forgotten to shorten the endpapers a bit which I only realised after I'd started casing in my copy. I carefully separated the textblock from the case again and then, in a moment of complete mental blackout, tried to cut the wet paper. 🤦‍♀️ That didn't go well. I managed to salvage it, mostly, and of course didn't repeat the mistake with Dea's copy, but ugh. 😆

This was a super fun project and I'm very happy with it! Thank you again, Dea, for your faith in me and your super generous donation! 💙

Materials used:

Printed on Clairefontaine DCP 100g

Case and endpapers:

booklinen Colibri cornflower

booklinen Paradise aqua

marbled paper 120g

transparent Japanese paper

Hot Foil (Memory Keepers)

Slipcase:

fleece wallpaper Newroom Nisa lightblue

fleece wallpaper grey glitter

[texas-writes]

Special Girl

Cw: pining, mentions of masturbation, piv sex, protected sex, oral (m&f receiving), fingering

The sound of your front door opening and closing was normal, someone was always on the move, but your interest was piqued when you heard your brother laughing, indicating he probably had a friend over, and you prayed it wasn’t who you thought it was

Your brother’s best friend growing up was Leon Kennedy. He was just a year older than you, and you’d always had a huge crush on him. Actually, crush was a weak word for this.

You were

hand-in-your-panties-like-your-life-depended-on-it obsessed with him.

You were a slut for him and he was none the wiser.

You sat and thought for a moment before making up your mind. Timing it perfectly, you crossed the hall to the bathroom as your brother came up the stairs with his friend, letting you see who it was.

Fuck, it was Leon.

He seemed much more handsome than he was the last time you had seen him. Maybe it was because it was summer, but his skin was tanner and his hair was more blond than usual. He was Adonis in the flesh, everything you could ever want.

You spend a few moments pretending to use the bathroom, flushing the toilet and washing your hands to make it convincing. Then you duck back across the hall and into your room.

It’s begun to get dark and you're laying on your bed wrapped in just a blanket reading National Geographic. You’d gotten accepted to Penn State for anthropology, and you wanted to spend your summer preparing for when school started up. Your walls were covered in clippings from previous issues, the city of Petra, the carved churches of Lalibela, ancient statues, any picture that interested you honestly. You loved to look around your room at them all while you thought.

You’re pondering what all you’re going to take to your dorm when you hear the garage door rumble open. Your father was home, which meant it was almost dinner time.

A groan escapes your lips as you roll off the bed and shuffle to your closet to find clothes. You clutch your blanket around your shoulders like a cloak as you dig around, pulling out an oversized sweatshirt and a pair of basketball shorts. Not exactly the best dinner outfit, but decent. You knew if you looked too nice your brother would pick on you for being a try-hard later.

When you go downstairs to help your mother set the table, you're more than surprised to see Leon doing it already.

“Oh Leon, you didn’t have to do that,” you say, reaching out a hand for the remaining silverware.

“Oh, hello,” he mumbles. “Your mom said I could stay for dinner, so it’s the least I can do.”

“Honey, you can get the plates. You know, Leon goes to Penn State too? Glad to know I’ll have someone to look out for you.”

Your cheeks turn pink at your mother’s words, and you're grateful that your back is turned. Look out for you.

“So uh, how do you like it?”

“S’alright, I guess. Better than being sent to Harvard, like my old man wanted. He wanted me to be a lawyer.”

“That’s good. Are you going for criminology like you wanted?”

“Yeah. I’m really glad to have done it. It was nice, standing up to him for once.”

“Yeah…”

After dinner’s been served and you’re just sitting there, poking at your plate, halfheartedly pretending to listen to your brother ramble about the upcoming soccer season, you can finally say you’re bored. Your father replies to whatever it was David had just said when you feel a foot brush against yours.

At first, you thought it was an accident, but when it happens again, you look up, meeting Leon’s eyes as he chews before looking back down at your plate. A few moments pass without another brush, so you cautiously stretch your leg out and bump your foot against his. Leon doesn't react to your touch, he just keeps eating.

Maybe it was an honest mistake. You mentally berate yourself for thinking he would touch you on purpose. You jump slightly when you feel his foot on your calf, gently stroking it.

“You alright, y/n,” Leon questions, looking as innocent as possible while he torments you, unbeknownst to your family.

“Yeah, just a chill, that’s all.”

“Oh, okay,” he shrugs, turning his attention back to David and your father.

Your cheeks burn and you take a couple more feeble bites before asking to be excused.

You laid awake that night, wondering what the fuck that was all about. God, you really needed to piss.

You rolled out of bed and pulled on your fluffy robe before heading to the bathroom.

When you step out of the bathroom, you bump into someone.

“Sorry David, didn’t see you.”

“And where are you going, pretty girl?”

Fuck. Nobody told you Leon was spending the night.

“J-just back to bed.”

“Why d’ya sound so nervous, hm,” he questions, backing you into the bathroom and closing the door.

“You scared me, that’s all.” Your robe was riding up and the counter was so, so cold against your bare ass.

“Just like you were chilly at dinner, right,” he questions, you can hear the grin in his voice as he lowers his head beside your ear, lifting your chin with his finger.

“Leon…”

“What, baby? Say the word and I’ll stop.”

“Please, don’t,” you whisper

He leans away and takes a step back.

“No, wait- that’s not what I meant, Leon please.”

“Ah, so you do want me then?”

You nod.

“That isn’t enough, sweetheart I want you to say it.”

“Leon, that’s not fair, please. Need you.”

He chuckles to himself and returns to his original position, lips brushing against your neck as he speaks.

“You need me, hm?”

You nod again, slightly aware of how pathetic you’re being, but too caught up in Leon’s affection to care.

“What does my pretty girl want, hm? How bad do you need me,” he whispers, brushing his fingers up your thigh and under your robe.

“Nothing on under there. Was that intentional or did I just catch you at a good time?”

“I never wear anything to bed,” you murmur, bringing your hand up to rest in his hair, giving it a slight tug as his lips abuse the tender flesh of your shoulder, teeth grazing against your collarbone as he groans.

“Go wait for me in your room. I’m gonna make sure we won’t be bothered.”

You nod softly and poke your head out of the bathroom, making sure no one's watching as you scurry across the hall into your room while Leon hangs back.

After what felt like eternity, Leon comes into your room, easing the door shut behind him and sliding the lock into place. Your nerves are absolutely shot, and you shiver as you watch Leon come towards you, the way his tight shirt hugged his broad shoulders and slim waist, accentuating his silhouette.

“Is everyone asleep,” you question, pushing yourself up in the bed, tugging your robe tighter around yourself.

“Yeah,” he hums, sliding into your bed beside you, taking a swatch of your pink satin sheets between his fingers and feeling it. “Nice sheets, I see why you sleep naked.”

You giggle and rest your head on his shoulder. You had been awkward around Leon for as long as you could remember, In middle school, watching him from across the cafeteria as he flipped through an X-Men comic and filled out the mail-in sheet on the back, or in high school when he shrugged at every girl that tried to ask him out and you had been so sure he’d give you the same answer, so you’d never bothered.

Despite being dismissive most of the time, he was there when it mattered, like your junior year, when you had snuck out and gone to a local college party and gotten absolutely smashed. Leon had been there too and followed you around all night, shielding you from grabbing hands and switching your drinks out for water as the night wore on before driving you home and helping you sneak back into your window. Or when he’d come hiking with your family and you’d gotten water intoxication and he’d carried you back to the car to cool you off and taken you to get some extra salty fries while your family finished their hike.

But things were different now, you were both adults, and you knew that he wanted you as he tilted your chin up and pressed his lips to yours softly while his free hand went up to caress your cheek. His hands were calloused from his frequent visits to the gym, but they felt so good as they roamed your features, tracing the curve of your lips. The bridge of your nose, the arch of your brow. You wanted nothing more than to feel his hands all over your body.

“Leon,” you whine, tugging at the hem of his shirt, trying to get him to take it off. He finally takes the hint and pulls his shirt off and drops it on the floor. You yelp as he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you into his lap.

“Shh, we still gotta be quiet, baby. Can’t get caught can we, then I can’t come visit anymore, hm?”

“Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting it,” you whisper, leaning in and kissing along his jaw.

“Mh, feels good,” he mumbles, exposing his neck to you as you trail kisses all across his throat, grazing your teeth along his Adam’s apple, making his breath hitch.

When you pull away your robe is barely covering enough of you to be considered decent. Leon looks up to meet your eyes, groaning when you untie your robe and let it slide down your shoulders, exposing your shoulders and the tops of your breasts. He allows his gaze to drop back to the soft plain of your tummy, the curve of your hips and the way the blanket wrapped around your hips pools between your legs just enough to cover the one thing he needs the most.

You can feel him, straining against his shorts as you cautiously lower yourself to brush your pussy along his sensitive bulge.

“You should take these off Lee,” you hum, tugging at the waistband of his shorts.

He nods and lifts his hips, allowing you to pull them down so he can kick them off. He groans as his cock springs free from the confines of his pants, standing at attention, so close to your entrance he can feel the warmth coming from you.

You shrug your robe the rest of the way off and drop it down with Leon’s clothes, moving from his lap, kneeling beside him and resting your head on his thigh and kissing it softly once before licking along the underside of his cock, making him grip at the sheets.

You tease him relentlessly, kissing and licking at the tip of his cock, your warm breath fanning against his skin. He lets out a deep groan when you finally take him in, tongue swirling around him as you take him deeper into your mouth. Tears prick the corners of your eyes as he tangles his fingers into your hair and guides you to take him into your throat.

“You’re such a good girl,” he whispers. “You’re taking me so well, fuck,” he moans bringing his other hand to caress your cheek.

Leon studies the way your body moves as you pleasure him, the arch of your back, the curve of your ass, the way you look up at him as you moan around him.

“M’gonna cum, fuck. You gonna let me cum in your mouth?”

You nod weakly as you take Leon deeper into your throat, pressing your nose against his tummy as he finishes. You lap at his tip, making sure you don't miss anything as you pull away, swallowing thickly and gasping softly as Leon pushes your hair out of your face and smoothing it down.

“You did so good for me,” he praises, stroking your cheek and motioning for you to lay back. “Let me return the favor, hm?”

“Please,” you whine, laying back on your bed, watching intently as Leon takes his place between your legs, right where you’ve always wanted him, tips of his fingers lazily trailing along your thigh while he looks up at you.

He teases your entrance before easing two of his fingers into you, making you whimper.

“I don’t normally do this, but you’re my special girl,” he whispers, ducking his head between your thighs and throwing one of your legs over his shoulder. “But you have to be quiet, okay?”

“I’m your special girl,” you question, a warm blush spreading across your cheeks as he rests his head on your thigh, his hair tickling the tender flesh there.

“Always have been. Why do you think I look after you like I do? You promise you’re gonna be quiet?”

You nod and give him a gentle smile, laying back into the pillows and running your fingers through his silky hair. He curls his fingers into you, testing the honesty of your statement, pleased when you only let out a soft whimper and lock your ankles around his shoulders.

Leon takes your encouragement and buries his face between your thighs, tongue lathing against you as his fingers continue their steady rhythm inside you. Your soft moans and the way you tug at his hair are more than enough to drive him insane, urging him to focus his attention on your clit to draw more out of you, his fingers lazily curling into your sweet spot as he grinds his hips into the mattress, looking for a little relief of his own.

“Leon, ah- ‘m so close.”

You can feel him grin against you as he nudges his nose against your clit before taking it back between his lips, making you shove your fist in your mouth as he draws an orgasam out of you. He chuckles and just keeps eating you, not caring about the way your legs shake around him, or your heels digging into his back, or the way you’re dangerously close to ripping out a chunk of his sandy blond hair. No, all he cares about are those cute little noises you’re making, accented only by the occasional whine when he brushes his fingers against that spot inside you.

Finally he pulls away, tongue darting out to lick his lips as he crawls his way up to you, his fingers still buried to the hilt in your dripping cunt.

“How was that? Hm? Anyone ever done that for you before?”

You shake your head and he grins, leaning down to press a sloppy kiss to your lips. You can taste yourself and it’s one of the hottest things you think you’ve ever experienced.

“You think you’re ready for me, baby?”

“Yeah… I can take it.”

“We’ll see,” he teases, pulling his fingers out of you, making you whine at the sudden emptiness, and brings them to his mouth, sucking all of you off of them. “You know baby, you’re just so damn good, don’t want to waste it.”

You reach up and wrap an arm around his neck, pulling him down into a kiss, teasing your tongue against his lip, smiling against him when he allows the intrusion. He pulls away and you reach for him, but he doesn’t yield to your grabbing hands, reminding you that he’s just been a willing participant in your arms until now.

“You have a condom?”

“I’m on birth control.” That’s what guys really wanted to hear, right?

“Not good enough.” Oh. He actually wanted one.

“Top drawer of the nightstand, not sure they’ll fit though.”

“You flatter me. Ah, here.” He rifles through the drawer until he finds one, tearing the little foil packet open with his teeth, hissing softly as he rolls it on.

He’s back on top of you as soon as he’s got it in place, grinding his hips against yours and pulling your legs around his waist.

“See, now you can keep those pretty legs of yours around me as long as you want and we don’t have to worry.”

You giggle and reach between your bodies, taking him into your hand and giving him a couple of strokes before lining him up with your entrance. He eases himself into you until he bottoms out, using one hand to lace his fingers with yours while the other grips at your headboard.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good. Didn’t know what I was missing until now.”

He starts out with a slow pace, taking the time to pull almost completely out of you before sliding back in, relishing in the way you push your hips up to meet his. Taking it slow was almost unbearable, but you were his special girl after all, and he wanted you to know he’d look after you however you wanted, even if it meant torturing himself to get you used to him.

After a small eternity you tell him to speed up and he doesn't need to be told twice. His thrusts become short and deep, the sound of your bodies meeting filling the stuffy silence of your room as he keeps his lips on yours swallowing down the moans that tumble from your lips. He takes his hand from yours to knead at your breast, enjoying the way they bounce every time his hips slam into yours. He knows you’re close by the way you tighten around him, so he opts to lean back and grab your hips, digging his fingertips into the supple flesh there, setting a punishing pace as his own hips stutter and he lets out a whine as he cums, lazily thrusting to carry you through before pulling out and falling beside you, pulling the condom off and knotting it, dropping it into the trash can beside your bed.

“So,” he questions, propping himself up on his elbow. “How was that?”

You’re still laying there trying to catch your breath, so you just let out a choked sound of agreeance.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just-”

“Just what?”

“A lot of things. Good things. But-”

“Start small then.”

“None of my other boyfriends would kiss me after I sucked them off.”

“Boyfriend?”

“Sorry,” you laugh nervously, sure you’d already screwed it up.

“Don’t be. I’m not opposed to it. In fact I’d quite like to be your boyfriend, but what else.”

“And then you ate me out, and-”

“Go on.”

“I’ve never cum like that in my life.”

“Those other guys were missing out then,” he replies, wrapping his arms around you, pressing a kiss to the back of your head.

That’s what you always liked about Leon. No matter how much you could try to stroke his ego, he always took it humbly. You wiggle yourself around to face him and press a kiss to the tip of his freckled nose

“Hey, baby, I don’t want to just run out on you and ruin a good thing, but I gotta go back soon,” he whispers, resting his forehead against yours before slipping out of your bed and getting dressed. You watch with a twinge in your chest as he makes his way towards the door.

“I understand. Are you gonna come see me again?”

“You know it baby,” he grins, opening the door and slipping out before easing it shut behind him.

[filmbyjy]

MINESTREAM

SYPNOSIS > Wanting to start a new stream series with his best friends, Jay had a bright idea of playing some simple Minecraft with them. Everything was normal, until he realises there is another person in the call with them. He quickly learns that it was ni-ki’s older sister, (name). Watch how streaming a simple game of Minecraft can dig up some interesting feelings between the main leads.

TWENTY-SIX – I’m a werewolf

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

a/n: idk if anybody watches Chinese dramas but there was one scene from that drama that I referenced. something about how the guy can’t contain himself and he is a werewolf, leading them to- ehem you know🤠

WARNINGS: just slightly suggestive🤏🏼 not that much though.

jake and sunghoon were crazy. definitely drunk. there was no way in hell were they telling you to actually sleep in the same bed as jay. right? you looked down at your bed. you had to change the sheets because only god knows what actually happened on your bed between heeseung and yvet-

oh my god, speaking off. you had to speak to her about this. how could she just do that with heeseung on the bed, drunk. while you didn’t mind your two best friends for finally getting it on after years of chasing each other. but your bed. you wanted to cry in horror and terror, you didn’t walk in on them but it felt like it.

you shot a quick text and attached a picture of the panties on your bed to Yvette. she surprisingly answers quick and she calls you too.

“babe, that’s not my panties.”

“but jake and sunghoon saw you and heeseung.” there was a clear whine and pout to your voice.

“me and heeseung did talk upstairs but we didn’t do anything. does the panties at least look clean?”

“I don’t want to know.”

“were they just laid nicely on the bed?”

“uh, yeah.”

“then it’s definitely not used. I got them for you, there should a matching set of bra somewhere on your bed.”

“WHY WOULD YOU.”

“to tell you to fuck jay.”

“no! we’re just friends.”

“for now. anyways, since those panties fooled you into thinking something happened between me and heeseung on your bed, why don’t you go sleep in jay’s bed.” you could almost hear the tease laced with Yvette’s tone.

“how about no?”

“how about yes because I will come over to your house right now and lock you in jay’s room.”

“you don’t even know which one is his room!”

“I think it’s obvious which one is it. the multiple guitars on display?”

‘damn, should’ve thought about that factor.’ you thought.

“w-well…”

“no stuttering, get in there and pretend that I fucked heeseung on your bed right now then go and ask Jay if you could share a bed together. oh and wear those cute underwear set when you go to bed with jay.” Yvette teases.

you sighed, “whatever.” you end the call. you looked down at the set. shivers down your spine as you thought of the various scenarios that could happen.

very descriptive things that makes your heart race…

things even I as the writer cannot describe because we are keeping it kid friendly :)

no, I don’t think i should think about this.

your thoughts were quickly interrupted by a knock and when you turned around, jay pops his head by the door. “umm, hey.”

“hi.”

you could tell he was hesitant, almost shy to ask. “do you wanna…uh, sleep in my room?” he finally asks.

it went dead silent before he speaks up again, “you don’t have to if you don’t want-”

“umm, I’ll come over to your room in a minute. I just need to change into my pyjamas.”

jay hums and shuts your bedroom door. just as the door clicks, you felt your heart racing a million times worse. you breathed in and out and then grabbed your favourite pyjamas, a satin dark blue set. not a lingerie set, an actual long pants pyjama set.

after changing into it, you had looked into the mirror. you realise it was actually quite a tight fit. you had debated on actually wearing a singlet but just decided to not do it. you were bare. which, I shall not explain any further. you felt comfortable without anything under the pyjamas. you weren’t sure if this would do anything but whatever, this was your home too.

you had knocked on jay’s bedroom door. when you heard him say ‘come in’, you had peaked your head inside. jay had laid down a pillow and a thin mattress liner onto the ground.

“are you sleeping on the ground?”

“yeah, I wouldn’t want to make your uncomfortable.”

“you wouldn’t do that…” silence.

you could almost see the gears turning in jay’s head trying to figure something out that you weren’t quite sure. “u-umm, why don’t you take the other side. there is more than enough space for the both of us on the bed.” you quickly suggested.

“are you sure?” jay tilts his head.

“yeah, umm.” you had grabbed a bolster and placed it in the middle, creating a separation between the bed. “here. don’t cross the line.”

jay snorts, “okay, don’t worry. I won’t cross the line. I’m not a werewolf like jake who would pounce at you while you’re asleep.”

“he does that?”

“if he sleeps in the same bed with a pretty girl like you, then yeah.” jay teases. you could feel the heat grow on your face.

“let’s just go to sleep.” jay chuckles.

“alright.” the bed dips right beside you and it grows quiet. the only sound was the fan whirling on the ceiling.

a few minutes pass, you didn’t know how long but it felt long. the bed moves and the bolster was thrown aside. you were now facing jay, there was something unreadable written on his face.

“maybe, I am a wolf.” jay mutters. before you could even react, jay’s lips fell right on yours. your heart races quickly, his hands lowered down to hold onto your waist, seemingly pulling you closer towards him as the both of you laid in bed practically making out.

it almost felt like a dream…

“(name).”

god, where was that noise coming from and who was calling out for you?

“(name).” it was jay’s voice but he was kissing you, what’s going on. then, the room shakes. you were slowly waking up and the bright sunlight greets you.

you woke up and looked up at jay. he was dressed up since he probably had classes in the morning.

that was all a dream?

“you were umm, talking in your sleep.” jay explains. your face flushes with embarrassment as you realised that you may have just dreamed of jay kissing you. unfortunate part is, he may have heard your scandalous dream.

you raised up your hand and covered yourself with the covers. “d-don’t. I don’t want to know what I was mumbling, it’s embarrassing.”

jay snickers, “mmm, alright…” he pulls the cover off your face. “must be a nice dream, hmm? I was the main star wasn’t I?”

“shut up.” you looked down on the ground beside the bed and grabbed your comfy home slippers. “say something again and I’ll throw my bunny slippers at you.”

jay laughs. “okay okay! I’m joking, I won’t talk about it anymore. it’s between you and me.” you hummed. “alright, I have to go now. classes start soon and I have to wake those two hungover asses up.”

before jay leaves, he ruffles your hair and leaves a small peck on your forehead. you had no idea why but it still made your heart leap. the door shuts and you fall back onto jay’s bed.

you couldn’t believe it, it was all a dream…

and jay probably knew about your dream talk

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[soulc-hilde]

Game Shakers / Ch. 03

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.

Pairing: Eminem x OFC!

Warning(s): Cursing, Drug Abuse, Racial Discrimination, Sexual Assault, more may be on the way as the story progresses

Summary: 2000s is quite the highlight between the fashion and rise of pop culture. Seemingly the new faces of shock value, rapper Marshall Mathers and rockstar King Woods finds a common ground amongst the unnecessary bullshit.

2019

“When I say that Marshall is a charmin’ son’f a bitch, I fucking mean it,” King laughs, shaking her head.

“Why is that?”

“So, after the VMAs, there was an after party, right?” She rhetorically asks. “I hate those damn things with my soul, but we had to stick it out until we were allowed to go home.”

A huge smile begins to grow across her face, “Matteo had made a deal with me that day and it was, if I could stay there for like… half an hour, I could leave early and Marshall walks into the party…”

1999

Britney Spears, Christina Aguilera, N*SYNC, and whoever the fuck else crowded surrounded the venue on top of the heaping bodies of their plus ones and management teams, maybe even sneaky fan and paparazzi here and there.

Sitting in a section on the 2nd, per King’s request, the sixtet drank and made jokes about… well, they made not so nice jokes. They people watched from the balcony, amused at how such televised royalties could act so trashy under the influence. It was so stupid. This entire shit-tick was stupid.

Nursing her beer, she added the occasional hums into the conversation as her friends actively talked. “Fuck, work,” Matteo smiled, “we can talk about it later. Iris, Tink, how’s your lovers?”

The two laughed, shaking their heads at the mocking sounds of kissing. Tink spoke first, “Carson’s doing fine. I’m sure he lost his mind when we won our awards and performed. He’s like our #1 fan, he just needs the fucking styrofoam finger.”

They laughed, picturing the 6’7” sized man jumping with that damn finger on his hand - that is, if there was one big enough for his hands. Irish then chimed in, “Terrance is good, too. We’ve been hustling about, getting our shit in order for the wedding.”

“Speaking of which,” Maliyah trailed, “did you guys speak on making your relationship public or keeping it private?” Iris nodded, “we want to go public, but we’re thinking about doing it after the wedding.”

Everyone nodded before continuing. King glanced over the balcony to meet a pair of cerulean eyes staring up at her. Paired with such beautiful features was bleach blond hair and slightly chapped lips that sat in a natural pout. A small smile stretched across her face and before she could stop herself, she waved him up.

With a small smile of his own, he sent a nod her way and made his way to the stairs with Dre and Proof following behind. He weaved around the crowd, never leaving her own. Just footsteps away from her table, he nearly started speed walking to sit beside her.

“Uh, hey,” he greeted softly, chubby cheeks pulled back to reveal a small smile and hidden dimple.

Charmed, King leaned against the booth, smiling. “Howdy,” she laughed, sipping her drink. "How'd you like your first award show?" He shrugs, eyes bouncing around the venue to avoid her dark ones.

"It's a'ight," he answered, "it's crowded and the whole carpet thing is stupid as hell." King snorted, "you ain't say nothin' but a word. At our first event, journalists were calling me a bitch all because I couldn't be bothered to play stupid."

The two shared a laugh. Marshall fumbled with a loose thread on his button up, debating on his next move when he suddenly blurted: "Just like how that reporter tried to get you slandering my name, huh?"

Instantly, the two perk up, waiting for the other to make their move. King made her's first, setting her drink down with a sigh. "I'm guessing she then snitched away? If there's one thing not alot are warned when signing their life away, these industry folks are snakes."

"From your colleagues in the business down to the reporters," she continued, shaking her head, "you never know who's willing to switch up at the drop of dime."

He added on, "but you and the others didn't. Y'all could've written me off as every name in the headlines and walked off, stirring shit just to stir shit, but you didn't. Why?"

King bit her lip, memories of her own encounters with the phonies of Hollywood came flooding in. "I've had my fair share of sellouts and backstabbers. I mean, look at the genre I mainly partake in... it's a field of white men projecting their lies and deceit onto us because we're women who aren't afraid to strum a guitar."

"I 'ppreciate it," he hummed, "truly. Speaking of you strummin' a guitar, how'd you even get into all of this anyways? Not to sound like those who wish on my downfall, but wouldn't rock be considered a 'white genre'?" His fingers quoted around the ridiculous phrase.

King smirked, "not really. the genre was created off of blues and jazz, much like country. Hearing us on the radio was far better than Chuck Berry or Little Richard on stage all because they were black and then Elvis came along. Now, flash forward to right now."

Marshall nodded, smirking, "don't tell me you're a country girl. I could handle the whole rock look, you look fine as hell, but country? Like, yeehaw? Oh, nah." King fell into a guffaw, her head falling back against the booth as he watched with satisfaction.

"You're goofy as hell, man," she wiped her eyes. "First off, your yeehaw was off. Secondly, so what if I'm a country girl? Don't tell me that a little accen' can easily push ye' away."

He bit his lip, eyeing her down with a charming side grin. "Mhm," he nodded, "never mind." She raised an eyebrow, "wha'chu mean? I already got'chu thinkin', huh?" She laughed, "regardless, I'm not a country girl, I was raised more in the city than the countryside unlike my parents."

"What'a'bout you? I know, fo'so you're a city boy," she giggled. Marshall playfully smacked his lips, "shut up. I'm from, uh, Detroit. I lived in the trailer park, mostly." King nods, listening closely.

He shrugged, "I mean, I have family in the south. They're from Missouri, I've lived back and forth, but spent most of my time in Detroit." She raised an eyebrow, leaning back, "Missouri roots? I've never been with a Missouri boy before."

"Oh?" Marshall playfully leaned back, his hand laying flat on his heart. "So, I'm takin' you want'a piece of me?" King snickered, bitting the inside of her cheek as a desperate measure to hide her smile. "Never said that. You're just new to me."

He raised an eyebrow now, "oh, so white boys being nice to you is new? Tell me more." King silently side-eyes the younger man, cheesing. Breaking their staredown, Matteo nodded his head at King with a soft smile. "30 minutes is up, King, you can head for the hotel, if you want to."

She nodded, sending him a silent thanks. "What does that mean?" Marshall asked. "Is that an escape plan or somethin'?" She laughed, "yeah. Somethin' like that. Matteo and I usually agree that I stick around this bullshit for 30 minutes and then I can head home."

"You're really not a fan of these things, are you?" He acknowledged her truth. She shaked her head, "if I could hate people, I would. If you want, we can hang out somewhere else. I don't have to go back to the hotel."

Marshall sent a small smile her way, "I'm not gonna bother you or anything like that?" King smiled back, "you couldn't, even if you tried." He nodded, "lead the way, then. I'm not picky." The two leave, sending quick waves while ignoring the joking catcalls.

He couldn't believe it, women was a sore topic for him as he tended to lay all the trauma from his mother and the inherited toxicity of Kim onto every other woman in the world, but King gifted him a different perspective. There was an obvious edge to her, it was like some puzzled code, but she didn't allow it to live life through her.

2019

"I don't publicly speak on much when it comes to King and I, and for a reason," Marshall sighs, speaking with every thought. "But, that night was probably the best night of my life back then."

"Since your overdose, you've stated before that there's a number of things from the past you just can't remember. Would say that it's the same for all of your memories with King?"

Marshall nods, "every moment I had with her in the start, I remember. From our good moments to our bad ones, I can think of them and smile. That may be because I always associated her with happiness and relief, or uh, a sense of comfort. I've never had that as a child and I never felt that with Kim."

"Would you say that night, is the night that you fell in love with her?'

"Surprisingly," he pauses, "no. No, that wasn't the night that I fell in love with her."

Taglist: @slytherinroyalty16

Series Masterlist

[thegnomelord]

Took me alotta courage to make it here so uh hi!

live laugh love for your writing it has me floored every time !! Thinking of being an anon that comes back every once in a while but I'm too terrified (help).

(feel free to ignore this) but imagine a goat!hybrid reader who's love language is head putting, they do it all the time with the team but super aggressively towards price the most- he a dragon hybrid takes it as a challenge for strength/initiating a mating ritual and it just ends up in them full on battling in the training room.

imagine one of the members notices that both price and goat!reader are missing to only find both of them stuck in the training room horns tangled in each other while theyre trying to pull their horns off of each other like idiots (imagine if it gets too bad they have to go to medical and a medic is like 'not this shit again' because it had happened way too often)

tehee anyways ill go back to fangirling in the dark- have a nice day bye bye

-terrified anon

No, no, don't be terrified, I genuinely love and live for ya'lls interactions even if I don't always have the ability to respond :Ddd

And your little blurb just gave me of the idea: you know how farmers put like pool noodles on their goats so they stop being little shits and headbutting ppl?

That. But on Price and Goat reader.

Like some poor base medic gets tired of your shit when they need to part you and Price again, so while you two are distract the medic tapes pool noodles to your horns. And keeps slapping your hands away when you try to get them off.

Since you two are smart enough not to mess with medics, you two end up sitting in the medbay side by side, both grumbling. Price's wing bumps you roughly, "This is your fault." He growls.

"My fault?" You ask, bumping your horns into him. "How is it my fault, you got your horns stuck in mine." Just as Price rears his head back to retaliate the medic curses you two out.

"Both of you out!" The medic snarls, forcing you out. Where you meet the rest of the team. Who see your new 'accessories'. You and Price are never living this shit down, Gaz and Soap take pictures and print them out, Ghost doesn't laugh but you know that fucker is smirking beneath his mask.

On the plus side, you now get to headbutt the rest of the team without worry of accidentally goring them :Ddd And if you 'accidentally' headbutt them in the groin, well, it's just bad luck ㄟ( ▔, ▔ )ㄏ

[runninriot]

inspired by the song Solitude by Black Sabbath, written for @steddiesongfics june song fics

Memories I Have Remind Me Of You

wc: 1999 | rated: T | tags: modern au, friends to lovers to exes to lovers, marriage proposal, dealing with heartbreak and regrets, Steve needs a little push from a stranger to make it right, sad but with a happy ending

The girl is nice. She’s pretty. Big eyes, plush lips, a kind smile, dimples.

Fucking dimples.

Her hair’s long and curly, doesn’t remind Steve of anyone in particular.

It doesn’t.

He does not think about someone else when the warm colour of her brown irises makes him remember.

Steve tries to listen when she talks, tries to laugh when she giggles sweetly, tries not to jerk away when she brushes his hand in a flirty manner but it’s hard to focus when his mind isn’t where it should be.

Did she just ask him a question?

   “You didn’t even listen, huh?”

Steve shakes his head, looks back up at her, tries for an apologetic smile but to his confusion, she doesn’t even seem mad at him for not paying attention.

No, it’s worse.

She’s got that empathic, knowing look in her eyes. Like she can see right through him.

    You’re so easy to read, baby.

He was never good at pretending.

   “I’m not boring you, am I.”

It’s not really a question. The girl knows she’s a good catch, knows she isn’t the problem – Steve is.

   “No, uh. Sorry, I-“

Who is he even trying to fool? No excuse he’s trying to come up with would be good enough because if he looks how he feels, it must be written all over his face. No way to hide the obvious.

I can see it in your eyes, baby. Your eyes always tell the truth.

Steve should’ve known it was a bad idea the moment he saw her picture, noticed the similarities. She instantly reminded him of-

He shouldn’t have agreed to this date.

Not because he doesn’t like her, no. She’s perfect, really. Or she would be.

They matched on a dating app, texted a bit back an forth. She was fun to talk to, made him laugh. And when she asked him if he wanted to meet, he thought that maybe it would help. That maybe this was his sign to finally get his ass back out there. He’d been holed up at home for too long. Sulking, sad, depressed.

Life just hasn’t been the same ever since.

His favourite meal has lost its taste. His favourite songs all sound off-key. Going to his favourite bar just seems like a waste of time - Steve’s life has lost its light, making everything seem dark and grey and dull.

Nothing is right anymore because everything reminds him of Eddie.

And Steve himself is the one to blame for his misery.

   “I-“ Steve hesitates. He doesn’t want to bother her with his mess, didn’t come here to whine about things he can’t change. She didn’t come here to listen to him talk about his goddamn ex for fuck’s sake!

   “What’s wrong?” she asks and Steve knows there’s no point in trying to pretend that everything’s fine when nothing ever is. Not anymore.

   “I’m sorry for being such bad company,” Steve apologises and means it. She deserves better, could’ve gone on a date with someone worth spending her time with.

Someone actually interested in... something. Anything. Whatever it is she’s looking for.

Steve’s not it, that much is clear.

He’s not ready to move on. Maybe he never will be. Because what he had was all he ever wanted, all he ever needed to be happy. Life was good, perfect, before he ruined it all. Let the love of his life slip away because he was too afraid of the what ifs. So he pushed and he fought and he hurt the one that would’ve given him everything.

Now, Steve is just an empty shell of the man he used to be. Because the day Eddie left, he took Steve’s heart and soul with him, left him empty and broken and sad.

So fucking sad.

   “You remind me of my ex.” The words are out before he can swallow them back down.

   “Oh,” she answers, expression neutral. “Bad break-up?”

Steve nods. He doesn’t want to talk about it, doesn’t want to think about the day his whole life fell apart but-

   “It was my fault. He left me because I fucked it up.”

The truth still hurts, even after all those months.

   “What did you do?”

Steve and Eddie had met through a mutual friend, Dustin. It wasn’t quite love at first sight but close to it.

They quickly became friends, started hanging out on weekends, then, soon, even during the week. Spending the evenings after work at each other’s places, cooking dinner together, watching movies, talking.

Steve had never felt so drawn to another person, had never felt so comfortable in someone else’s presence. Eddie was... he was funny, kind, loud and wild. He had all these big dreams about what he wanted to do with his life. Dreams that were so very different from the small-town life Steve had always resigned himself to. Eddie wanted to travel the country, sleep under the stars, wake up next to a lake, follow the wind to wherever it would take him.

He wanted to be free.

But he stayed.

Eddie stayed because when they shared their first kiss in a weak moment of alcohol-fuelled recklessness, they ignited a fire that became too big too fast, making it impossible to smother the flames before they turned into burning desire that took a hold of them both. Scorching its way into their hearts where it settled, warm and bright, making light in every dark corner of their being.

It was the second first kiss that sealed their fate – a sober, slow, and tentative kiss in the low light of the morning sun that wiped away any worries and doubts Steve had when he woke up in Eddie’s arms after a night spent giving into their unspoken feelings as they took each other apart, not thinking about the consequences.

Knowing what it was like to wake up next to each other made it impossible to go back to simply being friends, to stay apart, to not fall in love.

Eddie and Steve were meant to be.

Together, everything felt right.

Eddie willingly put his own dreams aside for Steve who knew he could never repay him for the sacrifices he made just to be with him, tried to thank him every day by showing and telling him how much he loved him. And things were good, perfect.

Until-

   “I don’t understand,” she says quietly when Steve takes a moment to breathe away the ache in his heart and the tears threatening to spill, “that sounds like a dream come true. What happened?”

Steve smiles sadly, sighs.

   “Yeah, felt like a dream, too. But the thing with dreams is that no matter how beautiful they are, inevitably you will wake up.”

And a beautiful dream it was. Life was full of love and laughter and happy moments spent together, until Eddie proposed and Steve said No and the world tumbled down.

Because it was in that moment – with Eddie down on one knee, the simple gold ring Steve knew had belonged to Eddie’s uncle held between his thumb and finger as an offer, a promise to be his forever – that Steve realised he couldn’t do this to him. He couldn’t marry Eddie and keep him trapped in a life he never wanted just because Steve was too scared of giving up the safety of his home for a life on the road with no destination ahead and an unforeseeable future.

Steve said no to set him free but even then Eddie kept fighting for him, fucking apologised for putting ‘so much pressure’ on Steve with his question which- was insane because Eddie had done nothing wrong, ever. He had never been anything but wonderful and considerate and perfect. Steve had been the one not willing to compromise, who inadvertently put Eddie in a cage of his own making.

So he pushed and he fought and he hurt Eddie in order to give him back his freedom, thinking, believing he was doing the right thing. It was only when Eddie packed his bags and left that Steve realised he had made the biggest mistake of his life.

The moment Eddie walked out the door without looking back, Steve knew he had lost everything.

 

   “Where is he now?”

   “Hm?”

   “Eddie. Where did he go?”

   “I, uh...” Steve shouldn’t know the answer to this but he does. Because Dustin told him. Tells him whenever he gets a call or another letter from Eddie, ignoring the fact that it tears Steve apart every time. Or maybe he does it on purpose, punishing Steve for hurting his friend. And Steve lets him, never complains, always holds back his tears until he’s back in his fortress of solitude, where he can drown in his pain and sorrow.

He deserves to suffer for what he did.

   “He’s in Michigan.”

   “Huh.” She cocks her head, smiles. “It’s been what, 5 months you said? Pretty sure he could’ve gotten a lot further by now.”

   “What do you mean?”

   “For someone who’s always wanted to travel the whole damn country, he didn’t make it that far.”

   “Eddie never made plans on where he wanted to go. Maybe he found a nice place to stay for a while before he lets his heart take him somewhere else.”

   “Staying conveniently close for no reason whatsoever. Got it,” she scoffs.

Steve looks at her with pleading eyes, needs her to stop giving him ideas, can’t allow himself to let hope bloom.

   “He’s free to go wherever he wants.”

   “Maybe what Eddie really wants is for you to tell him to come home.”

Her words hit him hard like a slap across the face, ringing loudly in his ears.

   “What if- What if he doesn’t?”

   “You’ll never know if you don’t try.”

 -------

   “You left me.”

It’s not meant as an accusation, sounds like one though. And Steve can see in the way Eddie furrows his brows and tightens his lips, that it wasn’t the right thing to say.

   “You told me to.” Eddie’s answer is short but calm, not filled with anger like Steve expected.

   “I wanted you to stay!”

He knows it isn’t fair because Steve did tell him to leave. What right does he have to want him back, to ask for forgiveness?

   “I didn’t want you to leave but I was scared that you’d wake up one day and realise that being with me isn’t enough. That being in love isn’t worth giving up your dreams. You shouldn’t have to give up your dreams for me! I should’ve gone with you. I love you. I-”

Steve is crying, can’t stop shaking. He’s so angry at himself, feels so powerless and stupid. And Eddie just stands there and stares at him confused like he doesn’t know that Steve would do everything for a second chance.

Just when Steve is about to give up, turns to go because if he stays here any longer, he’ll fall to his knees and make an even bigger fool of himself than he already has, two strong arms wrap around him from behind, keeping him from walking away.

   “Don’t go,” Eddie whispers into his hair, tightens his grip to emphasise his words. “Stay.”

It’s what Steve should’ve said all those months ago, when he said the opposite instead.

Slowly, Steve turns within the arms holding him until he’s facing Eddie again. Eddie, who is so close now, Steve could bring their lips together by only moving in another inch or two. Could kiss away the tears running down Eddie’s cheeks.

   “I can’t live without you, Eddie.”

   “Then let me be with you.”

Their third first kiss is an angry one, rough and desperate. Full of regrets they swallow from each other’s lips, drinking them up to make them go away. To make it better. To make it right.

   “Marry me, Steve.”

The answer comes easy this time - one word, a promise.

Forever, never apart, wherever it'll take them.

[bellewintersroe]

Daniel Ricciardo x HornerDaughter! Reader

part 13 - dramaaaaa y/n gets upset when reading some of the weird comments after a little group holiday goes viral and secrets are starting to be exposed. Little bit of a time jump here, I wanted to get to the nitty gritty parts. Also I realised I accidentally wrote the last chapter in first person instead of third? (Or second I can’t remember wtf each one is) oops!!!! Here’s the LINK to part 12.

warnings: mentions of sex, inappropriate touching (consensual ofc) nothing too graphic, hate?? comments& crying. Mentions of readers and Daniel’s age gap, but again the ages are up to you, I’m going no lower than 22/23 because I feel kinda weird about any younger.

“How are you so tanned, Daniel?!” The almost-as-tanned girl sat down on the Australian’s bare lap. Hence the almost, being from England and from a ginger father, she was always naturally pale and tended to use spray tans to make up for the translucency of her skin.

“It’s called being Australian, baby.” Daniel cheekily grinned, holding her bum cheek and giving it a quick squeeze as soon as she sat. “Yeah, but…” y/n scooted forwards, playing with the strands of his hair. The Ibiza sea had somehow made his hair even curlier, even hers had a beachy wave to it that Daniel thought made her look like a mermaid (as he told her 5 times over). He thought she looked beautiful- he didn’t think she could get anymore beautiful until he saw her bikini cladded, in her natural form, cannon-balling off the side of the yacht they’d boarded for the night.

“You’re like so nice and dark, can’t you give some to me?” His eyes, fell to her chest, the baby pink pushing up the swell of her breasts. He just wanted to nuzzle his face deep inside of- “Daniel…” she warned.

“Right, sorry… yeah, I would if I could.” With his eyes back on her freckled face, she offered him a smile, nudging to leave his lap. Daniel’s hands tightened with a soft, “no.”

“What? You wanna have sex… again?” Her brow perked, Daniel felt hot under her gaze, and he couldn’t deny the semi that was growing in his swimming trunks.

“No- yeah.” He couldn’t even lie. They’d been at it like rabbits, and especially on this yacht, on the deck when nobody was watching, all over the bedroom, in the water (comment if you acc want me to write a smut based off this lmao). She was sore from the amount of action she’d had the past two days, but she wasn’t complaining, y/n just thought she needed to give certain areas of her body a rest.

“Daniel.” She groaned, head dropping on his shoulder. “Can’t help my girlfriends fucking sexy as fuck.” His lips pressed to the inside of her shoulder, at first she was about to shudder from the action, but the specific use of girlfriend threw her into a frenzy of excitement. “Oh, I’m your girlfriend now?” She tried to play it cool, but both of them could hear the giddiness oozing off her voice. “Uh huh… if you wanna be?” Daniel nodded up, a closed mouth smile growing on his face. “Yeah.” A giggle escaped her lips.

“Yeah? I already thought you were, you… sausage.” He teased, bouncing her slightly on his knee. “Mmmmh, whatever.” They shared a loving kiss, one that wasn’t helping Danny’s situation in his pants. “I’m gonna go shower.”

“Ok, babe. I’ll get in after you, I’m just gonna go back on deck with the lads for a bit…” The good thing about the pair of them was that they could spend as much time together as possible without getting sick of one another, Daniel felt like she was apart of himself that he’d been missing his whole life- not to sound cheesy. But spending their own time together was so important, and space for y/n felt vital, especially when she wanted to have silent time, scrolling through her tik tok. At least, she thought she wanted some time to herself. Things were going well until a specific video of an overwhelmingly recognisable yacht came up on a video. Her stomach immediately dropped, pictures of her and Daniel, engaging in nothing to explicit, but a few kisses, touches, hugging. Clearly somewhat intimate moments that they kept concealed to the public eye. She swiped furiously, concerned as to what else had been captured. Daniel untying her bikini top, the two of them making out…

Y/n felt her breathing intensify and skin prick with beads of sweat. The comments were what she feared the most- the exploitive pictures were guaranteed to bring unasked controversy.

A mixed response was guaranteed, of course people were shocked, some ecstatic, others doubtful of their age gap. It wasn’t that which bothered her, it was the intruding questions and statements of complete lies and assumptions that rattled her. It didn’t take long for tears to form when people began comparing her to Daniel’s ex’s. Questioning ‘what age’ the relationship started, pointing out insecurities on her body, commenting on their visible intimacy.

Y/n was shaking when Daniel returned into their bedroom. She froze, phone still in hand, automatically turning off her phone as though she intended to hide this from him. “Still in your towel?” He attempted to tease, reaching out to nudge it off her head. The lack of response had him confused, stepping forwards with a slight hesitation.

Daniel questioned if she was crying, before shaking it off, but when she sniffled he was falling to his knees in front of her. “Hey…” he crouched in front of the saddened girl. He reached out, both hands resting on her lap comfortably, feeling a punch in the chest when he caught sight of her tear stained face. “Somebody’s leaked pictures.” She blurted out, voice heavy with upset. Daniel felt his breath hitch.

Without saying another word she handed over her phone, allowing Daniel to see for himself. “Nothing like- really bad, but… I don’t know.” She watched his reaction through the corner of her eyes, using her towel to wipe at her damp eyes.

“Oh, y/n/n.” Daniel sighed. “Fuck. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” She let out a sad laugh. “It’s just- it’s so invasive and the comments-” her voice became choked up once again.

“Ah, babe, you know not to read them. Fuck all that, it’s not even important.” He slung an arm around her, pulling her instinctively into his chest. “Like the most people are fine- but I-i don’t care it’s just the awful ones, Daniel. How have- why has somebody followed us on a fucking boat?” Her torment was something that angered Daniel. Not towards her, but to whoever the fuck stalked them, whoever decided to be a creep and take these pictures of her- not to forget the people who sent spiteful messages.

“People just like to ruin it for their own gain. I’m sorry, baby.” Again, Daniel sighed, feeling a little lost for words as y/n cried quietly in his arms. “Don’t-dont cry, y/n/n. C’mere.” She shuffled further onto his lap, wiping at her eyes in a subtle manner. “Like now my dad has to see that, everybody’s just gonna see and-” her voice cut short to avoid becoming too distressed. Daniel felt the tension that began to grow in his muscles.

“I don’t know.” She managed to exhale after. Daniel pressed a lingering kiss to her head, and squeezed her again. There was a moment of silence which fell between the pair. Daniels mind now began lingering.

“What did they say?” He knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help it.

“Just stupid shit.” He was already reaching back for her phone, glimpsing through a few of the weirder comments. “Oh, I can’t even read that shit.”

“Don’t read it then.” She muttered, biting down on her thumb. “Honestly fuck them.” Daniel inhaled, lifting up her cheek. One kiss was pressed to the rounder part of her cheek. A small, angelic kind of smile managed to peak through her sadness, even just for a second or so.

“I love you. So much, nothing in those comments will change that, will it?”

“No.” She agreed, swiping the last of her tears. “I’ll sort it out. Don’t worry.” He then nodded, a slight sense of reassurance filling her. “Are you sure?”

“Positive, baby. I’m not gonna let that slide, not when it’s upset you like this…”

————————————————————————

taglist: @dinodumbass @mccall-muffin @allabouthappiness @benbarneslut @ricciardhoe-3 @headinthecloudssblog @f1wintermoon13 @hrlzy @topguncultleader @victoriaholland @thatsouthernblondewiththeass @j-cat @lovzmez @laneyspaulding19 thankyou guys so much for commenting and following along I appreciate it, I love reading all your comments!!

[thewritetofreespeech]

can I make a request for yuji's gf being a dancer that's kind of famous and knowing aoi's idol takada-chan?

It was a beautiful day in Tokyo. One of those rare days where it wasn’t too hot for June, with a nice breeze in the air. In one of the few moments of downtime Yuji and [Y/N] had, they decided to take advantage of the nice weather and go on a little date. Wandering around the city until they found a cute park to share bubble teas in.

“This is really nice. Why don’t we do this more often?” Yuji asked.

“Because our lives are usually in danger.”

“Oh yeah…..”

“Brother!”

Yuji and [Y/N] turn towards the park enterance. “Is that Aoi?” Of course it was. Given his height, and his bulk, and his shouting, there was no one else it could possibly.

“Brother, it is good to see you.” Aoi greeted when he came up to the bench they were sitting on. “You as well [Y/N].”

“Oi, Aoi, what are you doing up from Kyoto? Are you on a mission?” Yuji asked.

“In a fashion. But not for sorcery.” Aoi held up a bag at his side. The pink and pastels of the packaging clashing with his dark clothes & menacing build. “New Takada merch dropped today. And as her #1 fan, I had to be first in line to get it. They are also hosting a private meet & greet somewhere in the city. So I’m on a quest to find it.”

“You mean the one in Shinjuku?” Both boys turn to [Y/N] who continued to sip her bubble tea casually.

“Wait? You know where it is [Y/N]? I didn’t know you were an idol fan?” Yuji commented. “Much less Takada-chan?”

“Ehh…I wouldn’t call myself a ‘fan’.” Aoi immediately tense. Intend to take that insult to fists. “But Takada texted me and asked if I was going to be in Tokyo today. I didn’t know what we were doing so I honestly forgot she was in town.”

Aoi looked gob smacked, while Yuji looked confused. “Wait….you know Takada-chan?”

“Yeah we met at an event a year ago that I was backup dancing at for some other idol. We chatted on breaks since we didn’t like the craft services table. She’s nice.”

“Takada-chan would never say she didn’t like something that someone put their hard work into.” Aoi replied with a frown. “You’re lying.”

“You can appreciate someone’s work and still not like it.” [Y/N] corrected. They then pulled out their phone and opened up a picture of them & Takada-chan from a few months ago. Posing for selfies.

“YOU KNOW TAKADA-CHAN!”

Aoi’s bellowing alerted everyone in the park, and caused Yuji & [Y/N] to lean back. “What are they like?? What do they do in their off time?? How do they cope with the stress of being an idol??”

“Uh…like I said…she’s nice?” They told him. Sliding their phone back in their pocket. “I don’t know about all their time, but when we hang out it’s like….regular stuff. I don’t know how they cope with stress because that’s none of my business how a person deals with their own mess.” Aoi nodded. Seeming to think that was the wisest thing he’s ever heard.

“Wow. I knew you were like a really good dancer, but I didn’t know like ‘idol’ good.” [Y/N] elbowed Yuji for his comment.

“Don’t insult me like that. I got a few offers to join whatever group a few labels were making, but I didn’t what to.”

“Why the hell not???” Aoi asked. Not able to fathom giving up the chance to be an idol.

“Well, it’s a little hard to fight curse spirits and keep up with a rigorous touring schedule.” They supposed [Y/N] had a point. “Besides I can’t smile that long.”

Yuji laughed, but Aoi looked very serious. “[Y/N]-dono,” they arched their brow at Aoi’s very serious tone, “can you get me into the Shinjuku event? To meet Takada-chan?”

[Y/N]’s face scrunched. Looking uncomfortable. “I don’t know…..Takada is my friend. It just seems sleezy using our friendship to get in somewhere where she’s working. I don’t want to abuse our friendship.” This was honestly why they didn’t tell many people about the idols they knew.

Aoi seemed to think about this for a moment before he nodded wholeheartedly. “You’re right. It would be wrong to use your friendship to get a leg up on her other fans. If Takada-chan is going to notice me, I want her to notice me for myself.” He clenched his fists in determination. “I should get going then. I won’t find the private meet & greet standing here.”

“Do you want me to tell you where it is? I don’t think that would be a breach of friendship.”

Aoi held out his hand. “You have already helped me another by telling me where it is in general. The rest of it, I must do on my own.” He then walked off towards the train station. With the determination one might see from a man about to take on the whole world all alone.

“So do you know any other idols?” Yuji asked when you were alone.

“This is why I don’t tell people…..”

[marlynnofmany]

Stabby the One and Only

“Oh no, there are more of you,” Zhee said drily.

I grinned. “Zhee, this is Captain Parker of the good ship Hold My Beer.”

“A pleasure,” said Captain Parker, smiling with bright teeth in a dark face. A twitch of his arm said he’d been about to go for a handshake, then fully noticed Zhee’s pincher arms. He bowed instead.

“Yes, good greetings,” Zhee said, bending his front legs briefly to lower his eye level in a similar bow. “Is your ship all humans, or do you have someone else to keep you in line? With a name like that, I have my guesses.”

“All human!” Captain Parker said. “We’re just stopping by for fuel on our way to Basal Station.” He waved back towards the sporty silver cruiser that was easily the classiest thing at this out-of-the-way spaceport.

“Oh hey, us too!” I told him. “Our ship is the little lemon-looking dealie over there.”

“Nice, nice,” he said once he’d spotted it. “Solar sails, always a classic. What species’ model is that? I don’t think I’ve seen it before.”

“Uh, Strongarm?” I guessed with a look to Zhee. “Right? It’s the same as Kamm’s ship, and seemed like a family thing.”

Zhee tipped his head at what would be an extreme angle on a human. “Who can keep track?” he said. “It is fuel-efficient and spacious enough, and that is all that matters.”

“We’re doing courier work,” I told Captain Parker. “Delivering some art right now for a big to-do on Basal.”

“We’re headed to our own to-do,” he said with pride. “In the sports sector.”

“Oh cool, what sport?”

He was about to tell me when a lumpy golden monstrosity of a warship roared to the ground, barely clearing the other nearby ships. Repulsor engines blasted a gust of wind that threw spaceport grit into everyone’s eyes and nearly bowled over those standing too close. That included a handful of humans carrying supplies onto their own ship, every one of whom yelled about it.

The ship was silent for a moment, long enough for two of the humans to run over to their captain, and for many other bystanders to cast disapproving looks. That sort of landing seemed deliberately rude. Had they meant it that way?

Oh yeah, they had.

“HUMANS!” bellowed a voice from the ship’s speakers. “Hand over your mascot. You have one chance before we open fire from orbit.” Various gunports flashed weaponry.

Bystanders panicked and ran, some for ships and some for the nearby buildings. No security forces emerged, because this little port wasn’t up to dealing with that degree of threat. The golden ship had picked a smart place for a shakedown.

Paint raced out of a building to wave us toward our ship, worried and fidgety in a blur of orange scales. “Let’s go!” she urged.

I was about to object that we hadn’t gotten fuel yet when Captain Parker shouted back. “What mascot do you mean?”

“Don’t play games, human,” the loudspeaker replied. “Your stabbing droid. Bring it out now.”

“Oh, that mascot,” said Captain Parker with deceptive calm. “Just a minute.” He huddled with the pair who’d come to see him.

Paint tugged at my arm, but I dragged my feet, wanting to know their answer.

The huddle separated. “Okay, you can have him,” Captain Parker yelled. “But come out and get him yourself, you cowards.”

Zhee hissed behind me and Paint squeaked. Angry growls sounded over the loudspeaker, then a hatch opened to admit a half-dozen pissed off dinosaurs.

Not dinosaurs, I thought. Armorlites. Bipedal, toothy, and widely known for not playing well with others. Their entire culture seemed to revolve around strength and superiority. I couldn’t think of a time when I’d seen one NOT act like a bully.

They also called themselves The Mighty, but no one else did. “Armorlite” was the best they were going to get, a reference to the thin scales that did nothing to protect the muscles they were so proud of.

“Hand it over!” bellowed the tall one in front, aiming a gun across the spaceport at Captain Parker.

“Yeah yeah, just a second,” he replied, the very picture of calm and collected. He waved toward his own ship. Someone appeared at the hatch, carrying an inert cleaning droid with a knife strapped to it. “Let me just say goodbye to him.”

Paint stopped pulling abruptly. “Wait, is that the one all the stories are about?” she asked. “That is an icon! A treasure to your people! And they’re just going to give it away?”

“Hang on,” I whispered. “I think he’s got a plan.”

Captain Parker was making a show of it, saluting dramatically and declaring at length what an honor it had been to travel with such a legend. The woman holding the legend in question stood ramrod-straight, and turned to make the delivery with all solemnity. Other humans lined up in front of their ship to salute. A wordless but inspiring song was suddenly playing on the loudspeakers. It was an over-the-top production.

And the Armorlites were loving it. They swaggered forward to accept their prize, with the leader handing his gun to an underling so he could snatch the droid from the human, who retreated in silence.

“Take good care of him,” Captain Parker said in a strained voice. “Make sure you keep his battery charged.”

The Armorlite held his prize up and sneered at the human, launching into a description of everything he was going to do with the precious human mascot. None of it was good.

“…Peel off another section of its casing each day!” he raved. “All will fear The Mighty, who have claimed Stabby the Roomba for their own!”

They weren’t looking at the human ship, but I sure was. The saluting crew all stepped to the side as a whole fleet of cleaning droids trundled down the ramp, silent under cover of the music. Each one wore a knife in stabbing position: right at ankle height.

Armorlite ankle scales are especially weak.

The first Armorlite to get shanked made a squeal of surprise, flailing with his gun rather than shooting it. The others didn’t react quickly enough to avoid the same fate: they looked to their companion’s face for answers, only to be attacked from below. The leader avoided it the longest, dodging to the side and yelling at his crew to fight back, but the droids had circled around him, and it was only a matter of time.

Just as he bellowed in pain, a precision laser unfolded from the human ship and zapped each gun in turn.

The leader dropped the Roomba to crack loudly on the pavement.

He snarled down at it, at the menacing droids, at the humans, and at the laser aimed at his head. Then he pushed past his underlings to limp back to the ship, a fleet of droids in slow pursuit. The Armorlites all made it onboard and shut the door. In moments, the captain was shouting from the loudspeaker about his plans to rain destruction from above. The ship blasted skyward with another gust of hot air.

I opened my eyes once the dust cloud was past to see Captain Parker still standing there. “Aren’t you going to stop him?” I asked, worried.

“Already did,” he told me. “Jenkins snuck Stabby’s cousin Blasty onboard when they weren’t looking. Told him to find the engine room.”

A muffled explosion sounded from the upper atmosphere. I looked up to see the golden ship veering sideways, trailing smoke.

Captain Parker saluted. “Farewell, Blasty Number Thirty-Two. You went out like a champ.” He stepped forward to pick up the cracked droid while the Armorlite ship disappeared across the horizon, not managing to fire a single weapon.

Paint and Zhee moved closer. “Your poor mascot,” Paint said. “Can it be repaired?”

“What, this?” Captain Parker asked. “This doesn’t even have a battery. It’s just spare parts.”

“Oh!” Paint said, perking up.

Zhee cocked his head. “Do you have the real one, or were they wrong about that?”

Captain Parker waved a hand at the fleet of droids that were currently getting rounded up by his crew. “We have LOTS of real ones! We’re on our way to the droid jousting league championships.”

I laughed. “Did they hear some of that and think you had the Single One And Only Human Mascot Stabby?”

“Yup! Sure looks that way.”

Paint was amazed. “I didn’t know there were so many!”

Zhee angled his pinchers in exasperation. “Of course there’s not just one. That’s expecting too much sanity and good sense from humans in general.”

“To be fair,” I said, “I don’t think there was ever just one. Sure, the famous one may have had more adventures than most, but the jury’s out on how many of those adventures were even the same Stabby.”

Captain Parker nodded. “And what fun is good sense?”

“Exactly!” I said.

Zhee stuck his bug eyes up close to my face. “No, you can’t have one.”

“I wasn’t going to suggest it!” I said, grinning at the frowny-eyebrow slant of his antennae.

“Oh here, how about this?” Captain Parker dug something from his pocket and handed it to me. “The knife is rubber. We make ‘em for the kids; that’s our team logo.”

“I love it,” I told him, gazing at the palm-sized minidroid with the red chili pepper sticker.

“That had better not end up in my quarters,” Zhee declared while Paint got a good look at it. “I promise nothing in regards to stepping on it.”

“Yes, yes,” I said. “You have so many legs; how could you possibly keep track of them all?”

Zhee made a disparaging noise and clicked off toward the ship.

“Well, I should be going,” Captain Parker said as someone called for him. “See you at Basal Station, maybe!”

“Yeah, maybe!” I said. We waved our goodbyes as he rejoined his crew.

Paint was thinking hard as we turned to follow Zhee. “Do you think Captain Sunlight would be okay with a detour after we make our delivery?” she asked. “I want to see what that championship looks like.”

“It can’t hurt to ask!” I said, holding up my new minidroid. “Just don’t tell Zhee. At least not until she says yes.”

~~~

The ongoing adventures in backstory for this book. More to come!

[angelkiyo]

in bloom [sakusa kiyoomi x fem! indie actress! reader]

chapter iii + masterlist [fluff, modern/timeskip au]

(🎧suggested song: everything - the black skirts)

“Uh huh, well I do acting. It’s fun and it pays the bills.” You tapped on the table and smiled, taking a drink of the cosmopolitan you ordered.

You were currently on a date with a guy from In Bloom, his name was Semi Eita. You have heard of him a few times from friends back in high school. Your parents have also mentioned him a few times as his parents were family friends. Although the close connection with your parents, you never really got to see him or really talk to him. You just knew of him and he knew of you.

He had a casual maroon crewneck with some baggy jeans and Adidas. The two of you were at a dark bar in Shibuya, ironic considering how busy it was outside. Eita recommended it as he didn’t want to be seen.

“Oh, nice. My parents mentioned that to me. Some people on my timeline have profile pictures that look like you so most likely it was you.” He gave an awkward smile and took a swig of his vodka cranberry.

He was a musician. You have seen videos from his gigs before but to you, he didn’t seem the type to go on a dating app. Then again, neither were you.

You laughed a bit, “That’s funny! Yeah, I’m pretty sure I’ve seen some clips from your shows on my timeline! God, I haven’t played guitar in such a long time.”

He smiled and took a sip of his drink, “You played guitar? That’s awesome!”

You smiled sheepishly and nodded, “Yeah…but you’re way better!”

Eita smiled at you and swished around his glass, “I mean playing instruments isn’t that easy either, y’know. Give yourself a bit of credit.”

You laughed and eased up. Eita was nice and attractive. Of course you’d be flustered if an attractive guitarist complimented you.

It had been almost 24 hours since your “following Kiyoomi” incident and nothing had happened. When you woke up, Hitoka and Tadashi already left for work, leaving a barrage of interrogating text messages.

After an hour or so of conversation from both ends and the occasional turn at the bar TV playing some football match, Eita decided to drive you home.

He spoke again once you two got into his black Audi, “So what made you download In Bloom? You seem sociable enough to get a significant other on your own without the help of some shitty app.”

You shrugged, “Getting over someone, y’know. I know it’s the “first date” or whatever but I wanted to be honest. Also trying stuff out because I saw it in an ad so I was curious. You?”

Eita sighed, “I get that. My friend, Satori. He said that if I could pull in hundreds of people for a show, then I should have enough balls to get a girlfriend. We were talking one day and he made me download the app. Doesn’t help that my parents want me to settle down soon too.”

“Did you want to download it?”

Your question made Eita’s lips go into a fine line, “You were honest so I will be too; no, I didn’t want to.”

You nodded and sighed until he spoke again, “I mean it’s not like I regret it. You’re nice and pretty so I don’t mind. Um, where did you go to high school?”

You smiled at his attempt at changing the conversation, “Itachiyama Institute for high school. You?”

His eyes widened at the mention of Itachiyama, “I - uh, went to Shiratorizawa. But damn, that’s insane. I know you went to school in Tokyo but not Itachiyama….”

You raised your eyebrows at the mention of Shiratorizawa as well and laughed, “Well, it was paid off with my volleyball sport scholarship.”

“Oh me too! You played volleyball?”

You nodded, “Yeah, I was an ace but my last year, I got injured really bad and was unable to play. Luckily, my GPA was high enough to continue having a scholarship so y’know…”

Eita nodded as his fingers tapped on the steering wheel, “Did you possibly know Sakusa Kiyoomi or Komori Motoya? Sakusa played with my friend and well, Komori was a hell of a libero. I think they play pro now...”

You froze at the mention of Kiyoomi, “Uh yeah. I’ve um- heard of them. Ki- Sakusa and uh- Komori, yeah they were in the boys team at the same time that I was in the girls team.”

Eita looked at you confused at your changed demeanor but laughed it off, “You know them well?”

You laughed and shook your head, “No no, I just know them from volleyball. You mentioned you also played?”

Eita nodded and smiled, “Yeah, I was a setter and a pretty damn good one if I do say so myself.”

In your opinion, Eita was great and really nice. He lived up to the occasional praise your parents have said. He's a hot musician, for god's sake!

“This is me…” You said, tapping on the window showing your apartment complex.

Eita smiled, “So…I’ll text you? I hope you enjoyed our date.”

You nodded and pointed at your phone, “ I did. Text me, Eita. I really like talking to you. Good night.”

You leaned closer to him and kissed his cheek, finally getting out of the car and waved at him as he drove away.

You thought you had a good day, really. It was 9 in the evening and it seemed like no one was there.

God you were mistaken…

“Oh L/N! Is that you?”

Your heart felt like it was going to stop as you turned to see Komori and Sakusa.

“O-Oh…Hi. It’s nice to um- see the two of you.”

You were lying.

You saw them and crossed your arms awkwardly, tapping your hand against your arm. Kiyoomi really did look good. It’s been almost 8 years since you’ve seen him and he got taller, more muscular, and his hair looked as good as before. He didn’t have his mask on but his facial features in general looked pretty. Though he looked like he was swaying. Komori was shorter yet supporting Kiyoomi from falling down as he supported his cousin by his shoulder.

Komori smiled and waved, “It’s late. What are you doing out here so late! Me and Kiyoomi just got back from hot pot. Do you live near here?”

“Oh, I was just coming back from a date! And yeah, I do live near here. Actually right here so, y’know.”

“Ooh! Me an’ Kiyoomi actually live across the street! Geez, how cool!”

A date?

He felt jealous. Sakusa Kiyoomi felt jealous.

Maybe it’s the liquor he drank at hotpot.

Maybe it was actually how he felt.

Seeing you in person after so long caused a pang in his heart. Your features have gotten more mature and yet, more beautiful. Kiyoomi hasn’t dated anyone since he dated you. You were his “first love” and he never really had the time to move on from you romantically. He’s been busy.

The three of you were under a street light and you still looked as beautiful as before. Kiyoomi mumbled, breaking the loud silence, “A date?”

You made eye contact with him, where he broke it immediately and you cleared your throat, “Y-Yeah…it was from this dating website In Bloom or whatever, and it’s cool, I guess. I mean I have my options open so…”

You mentally cringed at the last part. You didn’t want to sound desperate in front of your ex-boyfriend who you still think is hot.

“Oh so does Kiyoomi! This loser had never had a girlfriend.”

Never?

You raised your eyebrow at Kiyoomi who started massaging his temples in annoyance, muttering a quiet 'Why did you have to say that?' to Komori who just snorted, “Oh really? I thought you did in high school. Must have been someone else.”

Kiyoomi tensed up and looked away slightly. He felt your gaze practically shoot daggers at him as you crossed your arms. Komori looked at the both of you and smiled, “Y’know, it’s getting late, let’s go Kiyoomi.” Komori began pushing Kiyoomi in front of him before waving to you, “Good night, L/N!”

You nodded confused and started walking to your apartment complex, leaving Komori and Kiyoomi alone, "Good night Komori. Good night Sakusa."

Kiyoomi felt his heart race again. You would even call him by his first name before the two of you even started 'talking' romantically in the first place. The way his last name slid off your tongue grew a pit in Kiyoomi's stomach as he held his head down in shame.

Once they were in farther away from your apartment complex, Kiyoomi sighed and slurred frustratingly, “Why would you tell her that?”

Komori shrugged and kept walking with a mission, “Y’know. I mean it’s true, not like you have dated someone. I’d know about it.”

“Y—Yeah but it’s herrr…”

Kiyoomi felt himself tense up again. Motoya should have known about it. But at the moment, he was just confused as to why his cousin was walking too fast to the apartment.

Komori Motoya wouldn’t say he’s a messy person. He wouldn’t say he’s an instigator either. He isn’t the type to cause problems all the time.

He loves watching romantic comedies now and then. He has even paid for a year's worth of Peacock just to watch reality TV shows such as The Bachelorette and Love Island (he has considered signing Kiyoomi up before).

Though, after seeing the potential chemistry between his cousin and you, he felt that he had no choice. The both of you have In Bloom, played volleyball in the same high school, and live near each other.

Hell, he still remembered Kiyoomi searching you up on his socials. Kiyoomi was even embarrassed at Komori calling him out infront of you! It was a situation that needed his help.

Did his cousin like you?

If he did, Komori would make sure his cousin’s feelings would come across. He didn’t want Kiyoomi to live all miserable and alone.

After Kiyoomi showered and fell asleep, Komori snatched his phone and leaned it towards his cousin for Face ID. He felt relief as usually his cousin is a light sleeper but due to him being drunk off his ass, Kiyoomi knocked out.

Komori isn’t stupid and started swiping furiously on In Bloom to get to you. He assumed that since you live near, it would be quick.

And quick, it was.

Y/n L/I. - 25

info: tokyo, actress of sorts, vb lover :)

“Bingo…” Komori immediately swiped right on your profile.

He wanted Kiyoomi to be happy, even if it meant pushing him out of his comfort zone.

What type of cousin would he be if he didn’t assist his own family.

[New Notification from in bloom!]

Y/n L/I. & Kiyoomi S. are a match! Start messaging for a chance to get to know each other!

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a/n - THIS IS SO MILLENNIAL CODED BUT THIS JS A ROMCOM SMAU SO BARE WITH ME. may seem like filler but i rlly do want this fic to be mainly fluff! also pls ignore timestamps 🤗😭

🏷️ taglist- @lilchubbyyy @renardiererin @wolffmaiden

[celestialprincesse]

miss angie your writing is so mmmmmmm yummy. especially the way you write soap.

that being said, i have a request for you !❤️

soap x goth!reader ? i think he'd be a little intimidated but up for the challenge anyways. & turns out reader isn't as scary as he thought (kinda like a certain LT).

if not, that's okay ! just wanting to let you know how much i appreciate your writing !❤️

THANK YOU POOKIE!!💕🎀🥴 I jus wanna squish Johnny's cheeks and tell him I love him💖

Your presence looms like a dark cloud over the corner of the café Johnny normally sits in. As a matter of fact, you're in his seat - the same one he sits in every day for a latte and a slice of carrot cake, the type that reminds him of home. The massive, clothboundbook in your hands taunts him, tells him you're planning to sit in his seat for a whole and makes his jaw tick. Realistically, he knows that his anger is unfounded. He's never seen you before, and it's hardly like there's a sign on the table saying 'reserved for Johnny MacTavish'. He should ask about that.

The next day he comes in earlier, hoping that maybe, you won't be there in his seat, maybe you'll have taken your stompy boots and Oscar Wilde novel and fucked off somewhere else. No such luck. He's too pissed off to order his carrot cake, to sit in another spot, far from the door and closer to the crowded center of the café. He's too pissed of to smile at the lovely waitress that always makes sure to give him an extra sugar packet with his coffee or packs an extra slice of cake into a to go bag. You have well and truly pissed him off.

Who do you think you are? In your dark eyeliner and chipped black nail polish, with your black clothes and fancy books.

A week comes and goes, and each day is the same. On Sunday, however, Johnny gets there first. He lets out a triumphant huff as he plops down in his seat, orders his cake and coffee before letting his mind drift. A meek voice snaps him from his reverie. Of course it's you, probably come to gob off at him about how he's sitting in your seat and how you want it back. But then why are you speaking so softly? It's almost as though you're nervous.

"I'm really sorry to interrupt." You mumble, looking down at the worn leather of your shoes. "Would you mind if I sat with you? I've been working on a project for my art portfolio - taking pictures here every day for a month to see what changes." The sight of a small, clearly vintage camera makes the balloon of anger deflate in his chest.

"Oh, right. Aye." He nods slowly, a little bashful, as though you'd somehow seen through his flesh and bone to the simmering, unfounded hate for you dwelling in his heart. "Thanks!" You chirp sweetly, suddenly far less nervous as you drop your satchel on the floor at your feet.

"So," He chirps up, clearly trying to diffuse the awkwardness between you. "I - uh - I like yer shoes. They're very cool." "Thank you." Is accompanied by a blush burning across your cheeks, bottom lip pulled between your teeth at the compliment. "I like your hair." "Ah, thank ye. I grew it myself."

Johnny's heart jumps in surprise at the sound of the bright laugh he manages to elicit from you with his B grade pun. It's nice, hearing someone laugh at something he has to say.

"So, are ye in art school or..?" The Scotsman keeps up the comfortable chatter between you, the sound of your two forks clinking against the china plate, in which your shared piece of carrot cake resides, is background noise for your conversation. "I was. I'm actually applying for a teaching position at the moment - hence the portfolio."

You two chat for far longer than you mean, and soon his phone is blowing up with messages from Simon (who he definitely needs to introduce you to) asking where he is and if he's coming to the gym or not.

"Same time tomorrow, yeah?" "Same time tomorrow, Johnny."

｡ ﾟ ꒰ঌ ✦໒꒱ ༘*.ﾟ

I hope this was ok! I've got like no experience with any kind of goth subcultures because I'm a little corquette croquette croquet bitch 😔 n e hoo