#not if there's a peaceful way to go about it

[soapcloth]

CW: 18+ MDNI, loan shark!price x reader part 1, fem!reader, afab!reader, noncon elements, manipulative price, implied violence (not reader), petting, almost(?) fingering - 3K words - dividers -> @/cafekitsune massive thank you to @pricetagged for keeping me sane writing this

“Mr. Price-” you spoke up, fingers massaging into your temples. 

“Said you can call me John, Sweetheart.” the man interjected with a serious look. 

He was currently hanging your entire life over your head and he knew it, you most certainly were not going to call him by his first name. Noticing your reluctance, he shrugged and leaned back into your dining room chair.

“Look, I’ve been as kind as a man like me ought to be. Don’t know how much longer I can shoulder the loss, and I don't know how much longer you-” He sent a condescending look of concern your way, a hand fishing into his pocket. “-can take the fees. I’m playing the good guy here, y’gotta pay up, lovie.” 

“No smoking inside.” you warned, voice less confident than you would have liked it to be.

His hand paused in his coat before slipping out and up in a sign of surrender.

There was a buzzing silence between the two of you, only interrupted by the occasional tick of your kitchen clock. It was hard to meet his gaze, eyes rooted downwards towards your table under the weight of your rising debt to one of the most notorious men in the city.

“Right then.” he huffed, palms coming down to rest on the table before twitching upwards. “So?” 

“Give me another month to pull something together.” you spoke, wincing when you caught the way his eyebrows quirked in surprise. “-Please?”

There was no telling a man like John Price what would be happening. He was the shot caller, the unequivocal card dealer, it was only by some higher grace that he let your ill manners slip. 

He grumbled for a moment before looking up. “I respect what you’ve got going on in the shop, I do. Lovely place, good atmosphere—we’re both the entrepreneurial type, so to say I’ve got a bit of a soft spot for you-” the thought that he’d lump your small shop in with his exploitative business made your stomach turn. “-but this is a bit much, yeah? Let’s give it up, sweetheart.” 

Your face twisted into a sharp grimace, but that was all you could do—what right did you have to tell the man whose money you were living off of to get out of your house? Even worse, you hated that he had a point; you were so tired of your lackluster sales and mounting bills, but-

“I’m not the only owner, I-I can’t just make decisions like that.” you reasoned.

He looked incredibly unimpressed, nostrils flaring with a dissatisfied huff. “Right, your business partner.” 

“H-he-”

“If it’s what you want, m’sure he’ll understand,” Mr. Price hummed, eyes narrowing. “I think you’ll find my men and I can be quite persuasive.” 

Registering your cautious demeanor, his lips curled upwards.

“Where is the bloke anyway?” John asked in faux-disinterest, disapproval blooming from his tone. “Always sends you to talk to the big mean lender. S’not right.” 

He shook his head and sighed.

“-Seen this play out before, love. He’s throwing you under the bus.” 

Your mouth shut, hard set into a frown—you knew he was right. Your business partner was most likely enjoying his morning in peace knowing it was your apartment above the building—your life about to be uprooted if it all went tits-up. It was hard not to feel played.

Mr. Price’s gaze glimmered in recognition, and slowly, like a languid predator, he was leaning across the table with a large hand over your own. 

You studied the sparse dusting of translucent hair on his fingers, the trimmed nails at the ends of his stocky fingers, his nice, expensive-looking watch—anything not to meet his eyes. 

“S’not worth it,” he urged softly. “spreading yourself thin like this.” he paused to think. “My advice? Liquidate, I'm sure you and I can work something out in the long term.”

You swallowed, throat feeling impossibly dry as you focused on the twitch of his thumb.

“I’ll think about it.” 

“I don’t want to be the bad guy, but business is business, sweetheart—I’m offering you a hand, it’s in your best interest to take it.” he spoke, palm patting over your digits before withdrawing into his pocket. There was a deep breath drawn in through his lips. “Right, I’ll be off then—Unless you want me over for lunch?” 

He chuckled deeply in solus as he stood, reminding you of a proud and awful beast. “Maybe another time then, love.” 

Ideally not.

-

The shop had closed on another unnoteworthy day, only serving to further hammer in Mr. Price’s point. With defeated footfall on the stairs up to your flat, you nearly slipped, shocked by a fist beating on the front door frantically. You slowly turned around, heart pounding from the sound.

“-Christ! Let me in!” Ewan, your business partner cried out from the other side of the threshold.

You hurried to the door; pushed aside as soon as the lock had released.

“Do you have any idea what time it is?” you scolded over the shop door’s welcome chime. You were met without response while the man darted for the till. “What are you-”

“Not now,” he growled. “we need to get out of here.” 

Studying him closer, you realized one of his arms had been held up by a makeshift sling, tucked neatly beneath his quilted coat.

“W-what are you talking about?”

He paused, looking up. 

Your eyes widened when the light from the street outside washed over his face. 

“What happened to you?” 

“Doesn’t matter.” he snarled, freshly dried blood crusting at the movement. His head dipped down as he popped open the till. “Price and his dogs want our heads.” 

“I just spoke to him this morning-” 

“Things change—may have pushed our luck a little too far. We’ve got to get out of town.” 

You frowned “I-I can’t just-” 

“Suit yourself.” he snapped, voice dropping to a mumble while his fingers grabbed at whatever they could, stuffing it into his coat pocket haphazardly. “-Sitting duck.”

“Wait—that's our money.” you balked, watching the empty register drawer shut. He offered you a bloody, tight-lipped smile as he sped past you towards the door; in and out like a typhoon.

“Good luck.”

You were stuck where you stood when the door swung shut, absolutely beside yourself in shock as you watched his figure disappear from view into the night. Looking around your shop, it was just as it had been when you closed up, but the knowledge that you were sitting on an empty till, all alone with the looming threat of a less-than-savory money lender finding out you were back to square one for your upcoming payment was not kind as it crashed into you. 

After a sobering moment, you hobbled over to the point of sales, turning the drawer’s lock tentatively. Of course, the tray was as empty as the day you had bought it, save for a spare coin roll shoved into the side. You stared down at the dark plastic, hand clumsily digging into your pocket for your phone. Swiping at the device, you paused, debating for a moment over whether or not to open the banking app; you already knew what you’d see if you did.

Confirming your fears, the log showed a hefty transaction at the branch earlier that day. The account had been emptied right before the banks closed. 

You had nothing to give John Price.

It was all gone.

You stared at your feet while it sunk in. Slowly, you regained the ability to move, making your way over to the shop door and locking it back up before spinning on your heels. The trip upstairs was eerily silent as you slipped into your flat, legs wobbling as you ambled into your washroom and stepped under the hot stream from your showerhead. You let the water run over you for far longer than necessary, only stepping out onto the frigid tile once your fingers had pruned. 

The dinner prep that followed had gone surprisingly smooth, serving as a vessel to pretend the foundation of your life wasn't crumbling away. You replayed comforting thoughts, words passing through your mind like a liferaft just out of reach– you knew Mr. Price, he always spoke gently to you, he would understand, he-

A fat tear fell onto the hand that braced you over the stove, watching the bubbling pasta through bleary eyes. With a shaking grip, you drained the water and slipped the noodles into your saucepan, stirring and sniffling lamely.

You made too much—you had nothing to give and you had made too much. Typical.

Sitting at your table, you ate in near-silence, listening to your clock’s soft ticking as you tried to ignore the afterburn image of Mr. Price across from you where he had sat that morning.

Your fork paused mid-air when the downstairs shop chime rang out. 

Had Ewan come to his senses? 

You closed your eyes and waited for him to call up to you. 

The stark sound of heavy footfall bustling around the lower level was the first thing to alert you to the intrusion—too much noise for one man. Setting down your fork, you stared owlishly at the door to your flat as if it was the last line of defense between you and whatever was happening down there. Through the muffled commotion, you could faintly make out the creak of your stairs getting louder—closer, you watched helplessly as the knob slowly turned.

The door opened a fraction, a thick hand curling around the side to brace it against the three thunderous knocks that echoed throughout the room.

“Come in.” you spoke up once your heartbeat had evened out, blinking as Mr. Price emerged from the dark stairway.

“Mmh, you’re here.” he stared down at you, a pleased rumble rolling around in his chest. “‘Course you didn’t skip town, smart. Good girl.”

He kicked his boots off and drifted through your kitchen; cabinets and drawers clattering behind you while he whistled breathily, dishing up some pasta as if you had made it for him—you do suppose he had every right to, though. 

Your whole body tensed as a palm ghosted across your back. The plate was set down, and the chair beside you was tugged out from beneath the table. 

Your eyes darted to his dish where it sat, steam trailing fragrantly. Mr. Price tucked in, humming lowly despite his tense demeanor. 

“S’good, Love. eat up.” 

You swallowed the lump in your throat and grabbed your fork, gaze falling back to your dish as you picked at the food, appetite long gone. Once again, it was you, Mr. Price, and the sounds of your kitchen—an unwelcome sense of Deja Vu creeping in. 

“Your money’s gone.” you whispered, unable to stand the silence.

He reached towards you, grabbing your napkin, and patting his mouth. “I know.” he scratched at his beard idly. “My boys are dealing with that.” 

You paled, trying not to think about what would happen to your business partner as you watched Mr.Price fuss with his fork, leaning in to take another large bite; a nauseated feeling washing over you. 

“What's going to happen to me?” you murmured, eyes downcast. 

His fork clattered quietly against his plate as his hand came to rest on the back of your neck, thumb petting at your nape. “That’s what I'm here to sort out, sweetheart.” 

Sort out. It was ugly, spoken as if you were just one of his assets. You nodded; compliance met with a soft, affirming squeeze. 

“We can work something out.” his hand traveled downwards, grazing your arm before landing on the meat of your thigh. “I don’t have to be the bad guy.” 

“Mr. Price..” you spoke after a sharp breath, tears threatening to well up. 

You missed the way his eyes crinkled at your weepy tone, thumb brushing your thigh in comfort. 

“I’ve had my eye on you, love—Would have never lent you as much as I did if I wasn't sweet on you. Thought maybe I’d be able to charm my way into your life but it seems like I only see you when you’re late on a payment.” he laughed hoarsely. A knee knocked into yours as he stood; his chair scraping beneath him. The floor creaked under bulk, two large hands coming to rub at your arms with hot breath and trimmed beard tickling at your ear. “-I’m a hopeless romantic, y’see.” 

“Price!” a voice hollered up, causing the man to straighten with a low growl. 

“What?” he barked, voice aimed downstairs.

“Trucks loaded up, gonna head back to the office, yeah? See if Simon needs any help retrieving the cash.” 

His hands flexed around your shoulders. “Good, lock up behind yourself. I’ll be a bit.”

You froze, looking up to see the looming shadow of a man; profile distinct in the low light. He turned to you, offering a tight grin while a wayward hand trailed from your arm to your neck, caressing the skin as he exhaled deeply behind you, resting your head against his abdomen. 

“It’s okay to give in, love.” he cooed. “Let me take care of it all.” 

You had nearly folded when that little prey animal in your brain stiffened, hackles raising. You stood carefully, sidestepping his grasp.

“No, I-I… I couldn’t impose… It’s alright.” you silently begged for him to understand your polite refusal.

“S’not imposing,” he challenged, glaring down at you. “imposing would be the number of zeroes on the sum you owe me—now you care about my burden?”

“That’s-”

“That’s not how this works, sweetheart.” he laughed. “Now, sit back down.”

You complied, lowering back into the seat shamefully.

“Good.” he exhaled, crouching beside you with hands knotted together. “I always collect what’s owed, that’s one thing you need to understand.” 

You nodded.

“-But I’m not opposed to shouldering burdens where personal interest is involved.” His eyes searched your own desperately, palms unfurling to rest back on your legs. “You understand what I'm saying, yeah? You’ll never pay it off alone, let me help. I could take care of you.”

Overwhelmed, you turned away; the grip on your thighs tightening in response as he braced himself, standing up. A warm hand cradled your cheek as he drew your gaze upwards, free hand looping around your back and lifting you to stand against him like a marionette. 

“I don’t know what to do…” you sniffled as his big palm had begun to rub circles into your back. 

He shushed you. “-It’s okay, love. I can handle it, It’ll be okay.”

You nodded, turning and rubbing your face into his shirt as he comforted you. The entire situation was a disorienting experience. Had you done something so wrong to get here?– had it been a crime to want to live a gentle and quiet life in your shop? 

It was hard to care much for your sense of conviction when the root of your problem looked more like a finely woven cradle; what did it matter if you were to bend the knee to your devil’s appeal at this point? 

Still, it felt as if you were teetering on the edge of a cliff.

“I’m scared.” your lips settled for, hiccuping the words into his chest. 

He hummed thoughtfully, the noise buzzing around the walls of your head as his thick arms hooked around your neck, pulling you in deeper—a trap set without any fuss. 

“It’s okay for you to be scared,” he pressed a kiss to your crown. “There’s no way anyone was getting out of those rates you agreed to, love. Let me help you.”

You stiffened, head raising slowly to look at him. He smiled down at you.

“You definitely won’t be taking care of our finances, yeah?” John joked, letting out a deep, phlegmy laugh before he pecked your nose, pulling you back into his chest and rumbling against your head. “Enough nonsense. You’re tired, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

It was all so domestic—like he hadn’t just shown you his rows of jagged, shark-like teeth. 

His grip relented as he patted your bum. “Go on and get into bed, let me clean up dinner.”

-

So you did, brushing your teeth and feeling incredibly confused as to why you were readily complying. What truly got to you was how tender it felt—had you been so oblivious to his vying interest? You had just assumed he was a rare good-natured lender; though, you suppose neither of these had been true.

John Price was not a good man; although it was a recent revelation in the grand scheme of things, you knew this as a fact now. The other fact of the matter was that it seemed you were most likely the real collateral in the vulturine deal. Had he been playing the long game?

You could hear John floating around in the other room as you pulled an old shirt over your head to sleep in—the kitchen faucet running as you slipped into your bed. It all felt so wrong. 

Your eyes shot open when the bedroom’s aged floor creaked, deer-like paralysis keeping you snapshot-still as the ring of his belt buckle filled the static air. Was he—The rickety bed dipped behind you under John’s added weight, bedframe crying out with every shift of his body that came with tucking himself against you; achy grunts blowing out from his lips.

“Not as limber as I used to be.” he laughed modestly. “Still gets the job done though, I reckon.” 

He breathed for a moment before his nose dipped into the hair at your nape, sniffling around. 

“-Better than I imagined.” he grumbled contently.

Thick hands dipped under your shirt, massaging at the skin momentarily before slipping into your panties, tugging them out of the way. 

“Mr. Price.” you winced, feeling his cold hand on the sensitive skin.

his hands paused as the large man thought for a moment.

“Mrs. Price…” he chuckled after a beat, the hairs on your neck standing up in response. “-See? You don’t like it much, either. Now, what’s my name, love?”

“John.” you mumbled quietly, eyes darting around through the dark of your room.

“Mmh. good girl.” he hummed, hand cupping your cunt and thumbing at it absentmindedly. “Sleep, love. Big day tomorrow, yeah?” 

[madamechrissy]

Your best friend's dad Toji headcanons

Pairings: Toji Fushiguro x fem reader

Content warnings- ABSOLUTELY NO MINORS interacting with this, heavy NSFW! Big age gap (Toji late 30s, reader is 21) some manipulation (both of em lol) masturbation (toji) and oral sex (both recieving) obsessed Toji, the oneshot will be much more in detail lol. If you don't like Toji being called 'daddy' don't read lmao, taboo ass themes.

Gonna be a full oneshot, comment to get tagged when it drops!

Your best friend's dad Toji who used to be so affectionate, but the past couple years he's been... closed off, indifferent to you? He had Megumi so young, it was more like he played a big brother role, really, you used to talk to him about anything. But lately he just grumbles a hello and pats your head, much to your dismay.

Your best friend's dad Toji is so hot you've had this crush on him forever, but of course you try to hide it, and eventually you have it under wraps- when you're about nineteen or twenty you start catching his looks, the ones he doesn't think you see, and you may or may not wear next to nothing when you stay the night, just to sleepily smile at him in the morning, watching dark green eyes dilate.

Your best friend's dad Toji can't stop thinking of all the ways he'd treat you so good, when he listens to you crying about a break up, thinking these pathetic dudes probably couldn't even get you off, in fact he's sure that they haven't. You don't look well fucked, like you should, with your shy little smile and the way your tits just sway in those tank tops with no bras, driving him insane to no end, so that now he just avoids you.

Your best friend's dad Toji has lost how many times he's stroked his cock to the thought of you, especially when you sleep on the couch, you spend all kinds of time here instead of your dorm with your roommate who apparently always has guys over. More peaceful for you here, and instead of tucking you in he openly stares at your parted lips, at how your tank top twisted and your tit is almost out. He'd throw a blanket over you and head to his bed, stroking himself and trying to stifle the moans, picturing how he'd make you cum over and over again.

Your best friend's dad Toji has girls over at times, and you can't help but feel upset when you see them, which is so stupid, but here it is, these feelings that arise, knowing they're going on dates with him, wondering if he'll see you any other way. One day after a particular date he comes in the dark kitchen, startled to see you sitting in one of the seats, sipping on a beer. 'The fuck, doll do you ever go home? And are you old enough to drink this shit?' you uncross your legs, and damned if your shorts aren't loose enough that he sees a hint of your pussy. 'I'm more than old enough, you know, I'm Gumi's age' Toji scoffs, cracking open a beer and leaning against the counter 'yeah, a fuckin kiddo still'

Your best friend's dad Toji pauses with his lips almost to the bottle when you step closer, fingers trailing up his dress shirt, his dark hair falling over his brow as you tilt your head, looking at him for the first time how you've wanted to. You've lost count how many times you have played with your pussy, how many times under boys you pictured Toji instead. 'Did you get off, Mr. Fushiguro?' Toji sputters now, how you make a man like him speechless is diabolical. 'the fuck you say, doll?' Toji manages, and you smile as your hand trails lower. 'You've helped me so much, I could help you cum if you want' he scoffs, gripping your wrist then 'don't fuckin' tease me, won't end well for you'

Your best friend's dad Toji shows you just how well it ends, when you're on your knees in the kitchen, and he's shoving his cock deep in your eager mouth, fucking your throat so good tears prick your eyes. 'F-fuck... s-so good I.... shit...' he's stuttering, as you take his cock down your throat, your nails gripping at his thighs, looking up at him then. 'Gonna cum if you- stop, shit you-' you keep sucking his veiny length, throbbing and twitching as he yanks on your hair, pulling you off before he busts, just in time for the door to click, and you both seperate before a sleepy Megumi finds you.

Your best friend's dad Toji doesn't come to you like you'd expect, no he avoids the shit out of you even more, and soon you're imagining this was all some odd dream. He doesn't even acknowledge it, so you go back to dating your ex, and try not to come over anymore, Toji misses you, fuck he does, but he's trying to not engage with whatever demon mouth his kids bestie posesses. Toji even sees you out while he's on a date, his jaw locking when you're at the other table, young and seemingly in puppy love, your eyes lock when you see him, and Toji's date is fading into the background just a bit. When you get up to go to the bathroom, Toji excuses himself, just to come behind you and press you against the counter, barring you with his strong arms, as you murmur- 'Mr. Fushiguro..."

Your best friend's dad Toji mutters 'so did you get off on your lil date, doll? with the kid?' you hear it, the tenseness, the jealousy, as his huge, strong hands slip up your little black dress, and you whine out just a bit, before glaring. 'What if he did? what if he gets me off so good, Mr. Fushiguro- ah!' Toji's done with you then, he's got you turned so you see your own blush and glittering eyes in the mirror, slipping his hand down between your thighs and rolling rough fingertips on your clit, towering over you, taking over your senses in this bathroom. 'Bet he ain't got shit on me' he murmurs, before rolling your clit in circles and hearing you hiccup, whimper, head falling back as his other hand grips a breath 'tired of ya fucking teasing me' he then leaves you there, gasping and needy, sucking on his fingers and moaning about your taste.

Your best friend's dad Toji does not like it when you bring your boyfriend over, even if it is Megumi's other friend, not when you're sitting on his lap and kissing him while the three of you game, all giggling. He scowls right at you, only for you to give him a knowing little smile, one he thinks about fucking right off you, until you're just open mouthed and drooling. He's jerking his dick right off in the bathroom while the three of you spend time, endlessly thinking of positions he'd put his kid's best friend in, bend you over, drink your pretty pussy up, make you call him daddy. As his cum squirts out of his reddened, drooly tip, he exhales, trying to pull himself together, surely two can play at your stupid little game.

Your best friend's dad Toji starts to go to every one of Megumi's games now, he used to catch a few, but he loves to go every time because he knows you cheer for the team. You kiss your little boyfriend's cheek and bounce around in your cheerleading skirt, all while you see him with a new girl in the stand all the time, acting so unbothered by you. When you're asking Megumi about it, he shrugs muttering 'they don't come home after the games, maybe he's trying to look hot to the PTA moms? he's weird' huh you think to yourself, seeing his glint in narrowed eyes, which only makes you want him more, the shithead that he is.

Your best friend's dad Toji watches as you 'drop something' just to bend over in your cheer skirt, with nothing under it like it should be, making him lose his mind when you smile brightly at him, talking about a party all of you are going to after. Toji can't stand it when he's at home, waiting, imagining everything you're doing, fucking dying to have you, he jerks off so much it starts to hurt, and it's all your fault, which you would delight in knowing truly. When you come back over in the damn cheer outfit the next day, and Megumi isn't home yet, you sigh. 'Oh, then I'll come back later-' Toji stops you then, locking the door with a click. 'Oh you'll cum alright'

Your best friend's dad Toji has you up on his kitchen counter, thighs spread, pulling your panties up so that your wet spot darkens them, and he sees the plump lips of your pussy. 'real slutty, where's your shorts huh?' you smile at him, then gasp as he grips your chin, and your head falls back against the wall. 'I want you to see' you finally admit, and he glares at you. 'and why the fuck you torturing me!?' you gasp at him. 'it's you who torture me!' 'nah, doll, you know what you're doing, and I'm tired of it, gonna shut you the fuck up' Toji yanks your panties off as you gasp. 'gonna make you forget any dumb college boy has ever touched you' he says, before he sinks two thick digits, moaning as he watches your pretty face get fucked out.

Your best friend's dad Toji laps at your little clit, as your hands entwine in his inky hair, and he feels like it's so wrong, you're like at least sixteen years younger, your his kids best friend. Shit you practically lived here, but once he gets a taste of your slick pussy, he's done for. He's got you cumming all over his fingers in minutes, and you're drunk off it, as he keeps licking, scar brushing your inner lips as you pull him closer. "Mr. Fushiguro..." You're whining out, and he smirks, pulling back and spitting right on your pussy, watching it drip from your twitchy clit to your soppy little hole. 'don't call me that right now, not when you're about to cum all over my face again, huh?' you eagerly obey, earning his chuckle 'guess this is how I get you to listen'

Your best friend's dad Toji slurps up more of your cum, obscene in the little kitchen, and you're fucking his face, his fingers, all while his cock his throbbing in his sweats, and you're whispering 'Toji!' he slaps your pussy then, loud in the room, with wet sticky fingers, you scream out at it, cunt throbbing around nothing, ready to be filled by him. 'Please, please...' he chuckles again- 'please what, doll?' you're shattering as he scissors his fingers in and out of your soppy hole 'please fuck mee, please!' he moans against your cunt, rubbing himself where the precum has leaked out past his boxers and even to his sweats, nipping at your clit as you cum again. 'want me to actually fuck you, huh? show you how a man does it?' 'please Toji...'

Your best friend's dad Toji carries you to his bed, the place he so frequently pumps his cock to the thought of you, eyeing your already fucked out face, smirking down at you as he spreads your thighs. 'then need to ask me properly, huh doll?' you blink in confusion, as he leans over you, cock still under his clothes, gripping your wrists as you wriggle, aching for him. 'I said please though!' he presses a kiss to your lips, and you taste yourself on him, moaning into his mouth. 'say please 'daddy''

Comment if you wanna get tagged in this freaky shit lol

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[hahashifts]

Heroes POV:

I was in some deep shit.

Or, well, I would be if I didn't find some way off this damn street before they found me and dragged me back into that horrible house...

My lip was split and I could taste blood, and although I was running I had a serious limp and could feel the bruises blooming on my skin beneath my ripped clothes. My feet were bleeding - I hadn't been able to grab my shoes as I fled to the street.

I knew only one person who lived on this side of town, and it was the last person I should trust.

But, the alternative was -

No. Anything was better than where I'd just been.

I felt a trickle down my temple and jaw as I resisted the urge of leaning on a wall for support. No need to leave a blood trail right to their door.

Or, maybe that's just what they deserved. Assuming they didn't kill me first. At least then it would be a clean death. What more could a hero ask for?

Before I could second guess myself I threw myself into the doorway. I had figured out where they lived when we had our first run in two years ago. Since then I'd thwarted more of their plans than I think they had even expected, as well as cleared up the majority of the crime up north near the river. I had been trying to start bringing peace to this part of the city too, but those men had grabbed me & before I knew it I was half unconscious and being dragged into one of the townhouses. When I'd come to my clothes were ripped and they had beaten me and were clearly about to move on to using other parts of me. I'd managed to run out while they were all taking shots, thinking I was still knocked out.

I wasn't, thank the gods if they even still listened up there on their throne. But I was beaten and drained and my magic was shot - they'd done something to nullify it when I'd walked onto that damned street.

And I could hear them coming.

I tried to beat on the door, but I was bleeding, shivering - it was so cold out tonight - and they would be here in less than a minute and I'd be just another girl who disappeared from the street.

Maybe coming here was crazy.

There's no guarantee he'd even be here -

The door opened and warm light flooded from the doorway. I was swaying in my feet, honestly amazed that he even answered. I could feel the darkness creeping in and I knew it was either going to be my last moment or I'd be putting myself right in the hands of my enemy, but I had no choice. I "didn't know where else to go..." I hadn't meant to say that out loud, but it was the last thing I heard as I saw the ground swimming up to meet me.

But he caught me and held me in his arms, he heard the shouts from up the way following the blood dripping from me, I'm sure.

What a mess...

The hero shows up at the villain’s doorstep one night. They’re shivering, bleeding, scared. There’s also a slightly dazed look in their eyes– they were drugged. They look like they were assaulted. Looking up at the villain, swaying slightly as they’re close to passing out, they mumble “…didn’t know where else to go…” then collapse into the villain’s arms.

[vaspider]

Hey spider, I’ve been by your tumblr several times in the last day to help keep myself grounded. I wanted to say thanks and pass along my own thoughts to others checking in.

This fucking sucks and I hate it. But this moment feels very different to me than 2016. Not that I feel *great* about weathering the next four+ years, but, I’m not collapsing in despair either.

Fact is we survived four years of this, we had four years of relative “peace,” and it’s back into the shitstorm. The situation is different, more dire, yes, but we’re also different, too. We survived and we have lessons to glean from that to apply to our future.

Your job, if that frame is helpful for you, is to look at what you can offer your community and start cultivating opportunities to help other people. 

Are you strong? I helped an older gentleman recycle heavy boxes of papers (by heaving them into a dumpster for him) and that lit up my MONTH.

Can you do dishes? There is an elder in your community who could use the help (and the company!).

Do you not go to church, on Sundays or otherwise? There may be a hospice center that needs volunteers to stay with patients while their people are at Sunday services.

Do you have a car and some time? Maybe you can do pickups for food banks or other types of food rescue work.

Do you know spreadsheets? Hoo boy. Everybody needs somebody who can do spreadsheets.

These are ideas of where you might start. But the real work is to cultivate relationships of goodwill and good faith with others in your community. Start talking to organizations, look for people who are already embedded, doing good work. Look for role models, people who connect: people to other people, people to resources. Don’t be afraid to speak up when you need help, yourself – strong relationships are reciprocal. People need each other *so badly,* and in ways our culture does not equip us to understand.

Show up where and when you can and be ready to hold the hands of others. It’s going to be hard, but you can develop the skills and the relationships to make it through.

thanks again, spider.

This is good advice.

One thing I heard today that cracked me up - I was listening to Gianmarco Soresi's podcast today, and he has Brennan Lee Mulligan on this episode. Brennan was talking about how he ran a load of diapers over to Rekha at one point bc she was collecting stuff for LA wildfires aid, and when he got home, his wife, Izzy, was sitting at her computer and going through Zillow and researching rental listings and reporting listings to the authorities who are breaking CA rent control laws. (In CA, there are limits to how much you can raise the rent on a unit at one time/within a certain period of time.)

Like... that's a thing that she could do while she was sitting at her computer being at home with the baby while Brennan ran an errand that did measurable good in the world. Reporting predatory landlords does real, measurable good.

What's important is not that you're doing the most good or the most important good. What's important is that you Find Something To Do That Helps and you Do That Thing.

[llamagoddessofficial]

I know we love to ponder relationships between mortals and immortals, and how much that unequal lifespan would have a lasting impact on the immortal.

... But I don't think we talk enough about the mortal. The tragedy of knowing you will leave the one you love, eventually, through no fault or desire of your own. Death is a concept you have no choice but to understand. But them? By the time you've grown to peacefully accept your end, they will still be scrambling for peace, scrambling for answers, and there's nothing you can do about it, no comfort that will make the coming centuries easier. Their minds, however complex and brilliant, simply are not built to grasp the loss the way you can.

You have to live knowing they have all these years ahead of them without you. Knowing they have to go on, and you won't be there to ease them or hold them. Knowing they'll literally be there for you your whole life - but you can't return the favour, no matter how much you want to.

By making this higher being fall for you, you've (in a way) doomed them to an eternity of missing you. I wonder how much that would weigh on you.

[kashverse]

I need a mamakuna chapter where shes teaching babykuna how to bake.

(very messy kitchen I imagine)

Love your writing.

some pre-valentine's day posts :)

valentine’s day in the sukuna household meant big ideas, big love, and big messes. and this year, babykuna had declared, very loudly and with an unnecessary amount of fist-shaking, that she was going to be a baker.

so, there you were. in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, damage control mode fully activated.

"okay, baby, we have to be careful with the—"

CRASH.

you turned just in time to see babykuna staring down at a bag of flour that had somehow exploded onto the counter, the white powder dusting her from head to toe like a ghost of poor life choices.

"...oops."

you inhaled through your nose. peace. patience. love.

mr. pickles, your chunky maine coon and professional problem-maker, sat on the counter, his massive tail flicking dangerously close to a bowl of frosting. he was very much interested in the sprinkles—so much so that his paw was already halfway into the container. "don’t even think about it." you pointed at him with a whisk. mr. pickles, ever the unbothered king, stared at you like you were an insignificant speck in his universe.

meanwhile, baby—the ever-curious orange tabby—was notably more productive. by which, of course, you meant he was kneading his paws in the cupcake dough like it was his life’s purpose.

"baby, NO."

you lunged. babykuna shrieked in laughter as you wrestled a very smug cat away from contaminating your baked goods.

but in the end, somehow, some way, the cupcakes were baked. were they slightly burnt? yes. was the kitchen a war zone? absolutely. but when sukuna walked through the door after his long day at work, looking like he was ready to kill the next person who even breathed in his direction, babykuna came sprinting up to him with a cupcake in hand, eyes wide and expectant.

"papa! happy balentine’s day!"

sukuna blinked. and then, before he could react, babykuna shoved the entire cupcake into his face.

"EUGH—"

you snorted so hard you nearly collapsed. mr. pickles let out a noise that was suspiciously close to a laugh. baby looked proud. and sukuna, his face absolutely covered in slightly burnt cupcake and a ridiculous amount of frosting, just stood there for a long moment. then, slowly, he licked some off his lips, chewing.

“…not bad.”

babykuna beamed. mission: successful.

[masterofpinwheels]

I love this!

My headcanon took me in the opposite direction.

Most animals are happy to just chill in their one-room homes and do their hobbies.

But humans?

Humans are always putting their big 'ol heads together to do stuff. ALL. THE. TIME. There is always something to be made, painted, collected, cataloged, expanded, moved, etc. Everyday! At all hours of the night, even!

A group of humans sharing one environment is an absolute madhouse! Everyone has to learn to live together, but what can be done?

Well, we have the land, so let's move out into smaller settlements! Nice peaceful little towns, but, geez, it is so much work to make wild land liveable!

But.

Maybe the problem. . . is the solution. All they would need is one little human to rip into the project to their hearts content! Just give them the resources, and they'll build a town from the bottom up!

(I've only played ACNH, so my world expanding headcanon is based exclusively in what i know about this game)

So, Tom Nook is just a dude with some resources, a deserted island, a plane, some tents, 3 people, and a dream.

Everyone shows up on the island with only a little more than the clothes on their backs. But Tom isn't worried.

Why? Oh, because one of those 3 people is a human. And he is going to give that human a Task.

And oh, does that human jump into that task. Tom offers them a nice little work bench to use, and they are OFF. They're grabbing twigs, weeds, and fruit. They're creating and improving tools. They're shaking all the trees and placing their neighbors tents for them. They. are. LIVING.

It's enrichment all the way down. The animals get peaceful places to live, and all that human energy gets to go somewhere productive.

saw an absolutely hilarious animal crossing theory that i now 100% accept and it’s that in the animal crossing world, humans are going extinct, and so all the animals have locked you in an elaborate zoo enclosure and are trying to give you enrichment. and that’s why they give you infinite pointless tasks, hide money in trees and rocks, invented debt that doesnt matter etc. it’s why they always act so happy to see you even after you raze the entire island, relocate their houses twice, and always act so pleased about your choices no matter what. it’s all to keep their little endangered human healthy and enriched. and thinking of it this way has genuinely improved my experience of the game

[eepy-cookies]

Characters: Shadow Milk Cookie x G/N! Reader Content Warning: Angst, Hurt/Comfort Spoilers for Beast-Yeast episode 8 of the finale Disclaimer: If the characters are ooc, remember that this is made for fun. (ngl its been a while since I type a fanfic, but I am still rusty on that so bear with me, plus I found a post on twitter that SMC could also be Blue Moon Cookie but its just a guess.)

After the defeat of the jester that got away...

There was a memory in the distant past, WAY before he himself was created. Surely you have heard the tale of the first five cookies that were made before they become the beast cookies, a cookie one of the beast fell in love but...

The witches had to hide a terrible secret that if a cookie has the most missing incomplete ingredients, that said cookie is sick and cannot live until old age.

??? Cookie: "Um... Are you sure that there is a way to create a cure?"

??? Cookie: "There is a possibility I believe, as a fount of knowledge I will find the cure. But if I kindly ask"

(I remember the first meeting we have (Y/N) Cookie, it pains me to know this...)

That unfortunate cookie named (Y/N) Cookie has an incurable illness, due to the Witch's mistake, The Fount of Knowledge was desperate to find the cure for (Y/N) Cookie, the very first friend who greeted the pre-corrupted beast in a kingdom that was now long gone. One of them falls for that unfortunate cookie, their kindness, patience, and confidence they had charmed him even if he was at his lowest. He knew the pain in the future and yet, he yearned for more.

They both get along well, it was peaceful for them. He never felt any happier just being by their side, but not all happiness last much longer.

One day he was about to give (Y/N) Cookie a gift, a love letter that will never be opened and read.

???: "(Y/N) COOKIE?!" ???: "PLEASE WAKE UP!"

He stood there shocked, (Y/N) Cookie was on the floor struggling to get up. He knew (Y/N) Cookie was sick and yet their own health is getting worse by the minute, in a act of desperation he decided to look further into knowledge casting a spell on (Y/N) Cookie to keep their health in check, but as the years go by madness took hold of him and decided to cast a spell on them.

???: "My love...I am sorry...."

Madness CLEARLY took a hold of him.

Shadow Milk Cookie: "I can't afford to lose you! So I will make you as one of my puppets! Hehehe... HAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!"

And yet...

Tears fell from his face, he drops down to his knees leaning closer to them.

He can't do it.

He can't harm the one he love dearly.

Leaving only behind a kiss on the forehead, and the unread love letter in their hands. He casted the spell that would last much longer in hopes to find a cure while he is away. After all he will just lie to himself that he killed them, it's no big deal.

----

Pure Vanilla Cookie: This must be the place.

Wizard Cookie: A coffin? Why this place?

Gingerbrave Cookie: !!! Look a cookie is inside!

Strawberry Cookie: Are they...still breathing?!

Pure Vanilla Cookie watch as the sleeping (Y/N) remained in the coffin, sleeping peacefully. To which he now understands why Shadow Milk Cookie was trying to preserve some of his energy, casting a life lasting spell was taking a toll on him even if he was sealed.

Pure Vanilla Cookie: I hope this spell allowed you to wake up...

With no other explanation another spell was casted, pure healing magic was casting on (Y/N) Cookie. Pure Vanilla Cookie witnessed this tragic memory, and yet he had to secretly admit, he is evil but his capability of magic was greater far from what he had imagined.

But all that's left was silence, and yet...

Everyone: !!!

??? Cookie: ...W....Wh....

Gingerbrave Cookie: Look their awake!

Pure Vanilla Cookie: (Y/N) Cookie..... are you awake?

(Y/N) Cookie: ...H...hung.....r..y...

Strawberry Cookie quickly pull out an extra supply of royal bear jellies and gently feed (Y/N) Cookie as the others watch in concern. In the corner of Pure Vanilla Cookie's soul jam they aren't the only ones who witness a miracle that was tragic yet so real.

---

Arriving at a safe in (Y/N) Cookie was put on a wheel chair carefully eating the jelly soup one of the cookies made, they themselves were confused knowing that they would pass on and yet here they are somehow alive, still sick but still living, as if someone was carrying the burden off from their shoulders.

(Y/N) Cookie looked at the letter that they kept and had not opened and kept it close to them at all times. They need to know what happen, what year is it, and most importantly...where are their only friends?

...

..

.

That night when everyone is asleep, (Y/N) Cookie wheeled their way to the balcony watching the stars holding the letter close to their chest. Wondering where did their friend go, glancing at the letter that was remained fresh despite how many years has passed. They opened the letter carefully just to give it a read.

But before they can actually read it...

??? Cookie: ...(Y../N) Cookie?"

That recognizable voice from behind, (Y/N) Cookie looked to see that what was once the one they knew was in a different appearance of a jester. They were supposed to feel fear and yet...

(Y/N) Cookie: ...Are...you.... Blue Moon / Blueberry Milk Cookie?

He walked closer to see if they are actually alive, (Y/N) is still sick but cannot walk properly. Their hands reached out to him, gently touching his cheek. His face was unreadable and yet...

Shadow Milk Cookie: Are you....awake? (Y/N) Cookie?

There was no voice is mischief or anything, just pure vulnerable voice he has left of them. (Y/N) Cookie nodded as he kneel on the ground gently yet carefully hugging (Y/N) Cookie hiding his face to their chest. (Y/N) Cookie gently hugged him back remembering the usual scent that they personally love.

His own body shaking which (Y/N) was crying in turn, wondering to themselves what happened to him when they are asleep for SO very long?

[ktownshizzle]

Honey & Citrus | an myg drabble

✎ ˎˊ˗ Pairing: Min Yoongi x female reader ✎ ˎˊ˗ Genre: Fluff, Meet-cute coffee shop!au, to be confirmed if Yoongi is an idol or not

✎ ˎˊ˗  Summary: You haaate your job, but at least there’s this sexy eye-candy at your favorite cafe to distract you from your miserable 9 to forever grind. Your simple, casual nods with him turn into a silent caffeine war when, after his small act of kindness, you buy him his coffee—and he refuses to let the favor go unanswered. Suddenly, you’re locked in a daily battle of who pays first, and just when you think you’ve reached a stalemate, fate (and a very nosy barista) throws in a twist you never saw coming.

✎ ˎˊ˗ Warnings: None ✎ ˎˊ˗ Word count: 1.6k ✎ ˎˊ˗ Posting date: February 13, 2025

✎ ˎˊ˗ Notes: Welcome to another unplanned story. Just a little something I whipped up for the boss babes and corporate girlies working in their city's business districts, desperate to find a semblance of happiness in their robotic working days–did I mention this was really self-indulgent? I am not sure if this stays as a one-shot or a series of drabbles? Idk. Anyways, enjoy!~

Series Masterlist | More Yoongi stories this way > Masterlist

There’s a rhythm to your mornings. The kind that makes life feel like a well-oiled machine—predictable, efficient, sharp. That’s what you tell yourself, anyway, as you sidestep a finance bro barking into his phone to push open the door to Honey & Citrus cafe.

Not Coffee Bean. Never Starbucks. Not even Compose—even though Kim Taehyung’s face could certainly make you wanna come (in).

But you don’t need the soulless corporate grind in your caffeine routine when you already live it from 9 to god-knows-when. Honey & Citrus has the good beans, the real baristas who actually know your order and don’t try to be fake-friendly with you, and the quiet that lets you inhale a moment of peace before stepping into the battlefield of bullshit board meetings.

And then there’s him.

“Iced Americano for Yoongi…” 

He’s always there at the same time as you. Every. Single. Day.

A handsome stranger with sharp, feline eyes and an ever-present air of quiet confidence. The very first time you see him, he was wearing a suit. A medium gray set with an interesting burgundy tie. He held a small suitcase, fit for a macbook air, maybe a thin stack of paperwork. Definitely some VC vulture or hedge fund guy, gifted with the face of a luxury brand model.

But then one day he was wearing… a hoodie and black slacks with headphones slung around his neck, the expensive kind audiophiles swear by. 

Hmm. With this look, your previous assumptions did not add up. Now, you couldn’t quite place his profession. 

Since then, it becomes some sort of game you play in your mind. To discover what this dude’s job is.

One day, he holds a notebook filled with messy, poetic scrawls—you catch a glimpse as he flips the pages, and your mind spins wild theories. Another morning, he reads a printout of a Shareholder Meeting report as he awaits his coffee. Then the next day, you spot a vinyl tucked under his arm, and something about that sends your curiosity spiraling further.

Music Executive? Writer? Producer? Who is this mysterious artsy type in a sea of wolves? But maybe is a wolf. Lawyer, City Prosecutor, some Start-Up Founder… who likes to dabble in poetry?

You’re fascinated. Man has aura. And on top of that, he sure looks like he can fuck.

Unlucky for you, your interactions so far are limited to polite nods, the occasional small smile exchanged as you both wait for your respective coffees. Maybe the universe has a sense of humor, slotting you into the same ten-minute window every day with a stranger who intrigues you far more than your own coworkers do. But of course, he is not interested in you.

You wake up with a migraine, and instantly, you know—it’s a morning from hell.

Your alarm didn’t go off. Your inbox is already on fire. Your boss sends a cryptic “let’s talk” email before you’ve even left your apartment, which is never a good sign. You forgot about the afternoon presentation you’re supposed to give, and your deck isn’t even half-finished.

The thought of quitting—of walking into that glass tower and tossing your resignation onto your boss’s desk like a dramatic K-drama lead—has never been more tempting.

This morning has no rhythm. More out of tune than drunk-you in a Coin Karaoke.

By the time you drag yourself into Honey & Citrus, it’s already a god-forsaken Friday. You’re barely holding it together, probably leaving a trail of smoke in your wake. Your hair is frizzy, your face frazzled—it’s just a fucked-up day all around. And it’s barely 8 a.m.

You’re so deep in your own misery that you don’t even clock the fact that your favorite stranger has been looking at you since you walked in.

Not until—

“Fighting~”

You blink.

He’s looking right at you, his dark eyes warm with quiet amusement as he mouths the word again, this time with double closed fists, like a cartoon character summoning energy. And then, just for good measure, he smiles.

A real one.

The disbelief must be all over your face because suddenly, you’re giggling—actually giggling, something you didn’t think you were capable of before noon.

Yoongi—the mysterious, unreadable stranger you’ve been quietly fascinated with for weeks—just gave you the world’s softest pep talk.

And then, as if realizing what he’s done, he quickly looks away, pulling a face mask over his mouth, his pink-tinged cheeks disappearing behind black fabric.

A second later, he’s heading for the door, stepping out into the cold like he didn’t just single-handedly save your morning.

Your eyes follow him until he disappears around the corner, but the warmth he left behind lingers in your chest.

Maybe because you needed to hear it. Maybe because no one’s said it to you in a long time. Maybe because he said it.

You take a deep breath, square your shoulders. And somehow—somehow—you make it through the day.

You survive. Without handing over your resignation letter.

Small wins.

The next Monday, you get to Honey & Citrus first. You don’t even think about it—you just do it. You buy his coffee.

And then you sprint out before he can react, because suddenly, the idea of watching his expression feels too embarrassing to bear. You tell yourself it’s just a small gesture. A thank-you for a kindness he probably doesn’t even think much of.

The next day, though, he beats you to it.

You walk in, and the barista just hands you your usual order with a knowing smile. “It’s covered.”

You blink, turn, and find him already at his usual spot, sipping his drink like he didn’t just declare war.

Because it is so obvious he did this just to one-up you.

You narrow your eyes. He lifts his cup in a silent toast, eyes glinting with something dangerously close to amusement.

And so it begins.

For a week, you play the game.

One morning, you bribe the barista to let you pay first. The next, he somehow convinces them to refuse your card. 

You show up earlier to get ahead, but the next day he shows up even earlier.

Your schedule is screwed. You’re suddenly up way earlier than you like, but you like it.

It’s ridiculous. It’s fun. It’s completely unlike anything else in your day.

Until, finally, one morning, you both arrive at the exact same time.

You grab the door handle—he does, too. His palm brushes against your knuckles. Both of you freeze, eyes locking, realizing at the same time:

Shit. No winner today.

You swear you see his lips twitch, like he’s holding back a real smile. And then—before you can overthink it—you finally, actually, talk to him.

“You know,” you say, tilting your head, “we could just both buy our own coffee like normal people.”

“But where’s the fun in that?” His voice is deep, lazy, laced with amusement.

“Are you always this competitive?”

“Are you?”

You huff, trying to suppress the warmth creeping up your neck. He leans in slightly, and it’s the first time you’ve really, truly studied him up close—the sharp cut of his jaw, the quiet intensity behind his eyes, the scent of something subtly musky clinging to his coat.

“Since we’re doing introductions before the next round,” he says, “I’m Yoongi.”

Of course, you already know it. You give yours in return, and he nods like it makes sense. Like he already knew it as well. Which makes sense.

As you walk in, the barista snickers, clearly entertained by whatever weird silent war you and Yoongi have been waging for the past week. You’re about to step back, let him go first when the barista clears her throat.

“Actually,” she says, way too pleased with herself. “It’s on the house today.”

Both you and Yoongi blink in unison.

“What?” you ask.

“Why?” Yoongi adds, looking just as skeptical.

The barista leans on the counter, grinning like she’s been waiting for this exact moment. “Valentine’s Day promo.”

Your stomach drops. Your brain stalls. You look around and Honey & Citrus has little cherubs hanging from the ceiling.

“First couple to walk in together gets free drinks,” she further explains.

You feel the heat crawl up your neck, your face burning so hot it could brew the damn espresso yourself. Beside you, Yoongi makes a tiny sound—like an exhale caught in his throat—and when you turn your head ever so slightly, you see it.

His ears are bright red.

The barista just smirks. You are going to die here.

You should correct her, actually. You should explain. But words? Language? Coherent thought? We don’t know her.

But that’s when Yoongi does something absolutely insane.

He clears his throat, thanks the barista, and then—looking at one of the booths of the cafe, still not looking at you—he says, casually, like this isn’t the most absurd moment of your life,

“How about we have that first date right now?”

Your head snaps toward him, and he finally meets your gaze, and oh, he’s serious. 

Your heart stumbles over itself, but you manage a tiny, shy smile, and a quip, “…you mean this coffee? Here?” Because that’s all your pea brain can compute.

His lips twitch. “Mm. Unless you wanna go somewhere else?”

Huh.

You hate that he’s smooth about this. You hate that you kind of really, really like it. 

You swallow hard, shifting on your feet. “This place is fine.”

His smile curves, small but victorious. “Good.”

The barista practically vibrates behind the counter as she hands over your drinks, joyful even though two drinks are getting docked from her pay that week. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day!”

With Yoongi, it feels like it's definitely going to be...

:)

A/N: To you, my dearest reader. I hope your heart is filled with joy today and forever. You deserve it!

Want more for our coffee shop couple? Let me know if you’re interested in me turning this into series of drabbles?? Look at me adding more stuff into my WIP list.  Caved! Here's the H&C masterlist

Thank you for reading this you lovely, beautiful human! xo

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[circeyoru]

Love Trial _ Part 4

[Sung Jinwoo x High School Ex-Lover!Reader]

Part 1 ― Part 2 ― Part 3 ― Part 4 (here) ― Part 5

“They’re together again.”

“I say they make a good couple.”

“Aren’t they just so cute together?”

“Wish I had a boyfriend too…”

“They’re lucky to have much other~”

You and Jinwoo were the talk of the school whenever the two of you walked together on school grounds, whether it was going to school together cause you two lived close or walking through the hallways together to head to the cafeteria for lunch. Both of you brushed off the rumours in the beginning, you two were close friends, nothing else.

Then one day, Jinwoo asked, “What are we exactly?”

“Humans.” You answered without missing a beat, even though you were reading your favourite novels instead of studying for finals.

“I don’t mean that!” Jinwoo exclaimed, but caught himself by the evident redden face from his outburst. He cleared his throat and elaborated, “I mean, our relationship. We’re close, but are we just best friends?”

“Excuse you,” You glared at him after leaning down your book, “We are childhood best friends. Mind you, my friendship is one you can’t just get off the streets, mister.”

That seemed to make Jinwoo chuckle, momentarily averting from the serious topic. You tend to do that, but humour was something he liked about you. Oh. “I think I like you.” 

“I like you too, if I didn’t we wouldn’t be friends.”

“As more than a friend, I mean.” Jinwoo shyly corrected you, “What I want to say is I love you.”

You blinked at him and squinted your eyes. “That’s so random, you’re not doing it by the steps.” You showed him your novel, “See, if you truly love someone the way I see it, you need to time the perfect moment and set the mood.”

“Oh…”

“Always.” It was your turn to clear your throat, you raised your book upright to continue reading it. “Back to studying.”

“You’re not even reading the textbook or reference books…”

“Hush! Mind your own business.” While Jinwoo did so, your mind went elsewhere. Being in love and being loved was something you wanted, but you questioned whether you were actually in love with Jinwoo in that way. Novels and films wrote love to be so clear and obvious, but in reality, it never was that easy.

Since that day, you began to subtly look at Jinwoo differently. His little quirks, his little flaws, his little joys. Everything. You knew then when your heart was always at peace with him and you longed for him by your side, that was love. Though, you didn’t know how Jinwoo saw you after that conversation. You assumed he saw you the same way since he learned from his mistake and popped you that question to move onto the next step in your relationship.

How naive.

Following your confrontation with Jinwoo, your picture of him as the stone-faced, strongest, and most impenetrable Hunter somehow changed to that of an abandoned puppy―if that made any sense. 

If someone were to ask you to name the most desperate person in your life, you’d pick this guy who snuck into your lecture hall and boldly sat next to you, even innocently writing down short sentences in a notepad before ripping the pages and passed them to you. You were a diligent student, so you were paying attention in your studies and marked down notes. Needless to say, you were using learning as an excuse to ignore Jinwoo.

To the point that one side of your arm was covered in pieces of paper from Jinwoo. Luckily, it was not your dominant side, else you would have called off Jinwoo ages ago. The messages ranged from mundane ’are you free after this lecture’ to ’can I get you a drink’. Now why weren’t you doing anything like an outburst or trying the usual tricks?

It was mostly due to the aftermath of your rooftop conversation. Yes, you did draw an obvious bolded thick line between the two of you and told him you want nothing to do with him. Yes, you did say you’re leaving things in the past and opted to enjoy your present life than wallow in anguish. However! Jinwoo took it as an opportunity to start over.

Just as you were leaving, he confidently and boldly proclaimed, “Give me some time! I’ll prove I’m serious about you. I know I have no excuse for what I did to you and I know nothing can wash away this slate. But. I want to show you I have seen the error in my ways and want to change.” His voice shook in a way that made your heart ache for it reminded you of the old days when you two were your real carefree selves with each other. “Please, give me a chance and don’t push me away.”

And guess what, you caved and gave him a chance. The only thing you never accounted for was Jinwoo approaching you at any given opportunity. He was almost around you for 27/4, wait you got that wrong, 24/7. Yes, that’s right. See how he has affected you… You can’t even get the time right because he was just always there. Respectfully keeping his distance when you had company, but there all the same.

“I brought you something to drink.” Jinwoo popped up out of nowhere when you were just sitting in the lecture hall waiting for the class to start.

“Can I sit here?” A stray Jinwoo just approached you while you were on the bench resting.

“It’s going to rain and you don’t seem to have- Oh, I thought you didn’t have an umbrella and waited for you…” Jinwoo awkwardly chuckled when you gave him the deadpanned face and opened an umbrella right before his eyes, you went first into the rain but then Jinwoo soon joined your side, “Let’s walk together to the station then.”

There were so many more that you can’t even remember it all… 

“He’s at it again…” Jong-In chuckled as he sat next to you, “When are you going to announce our break-up? I feel like I’m third wheeling when he’s around.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, sighing in frustration and annoyance. “We can ‘break up’ only if it’s what you want. Not for that insufferable guy…”

“I never seen you this mad and indifferent to someone… What exactly did he do to you?” Jong-In questioned half-heartedly, knowing you wouldn’t enlighten him with your answer or story. He added when you had that look in your eyes, “Hey, we’ve been together―as friends―for a long time and I know how your moods are. Whatever he’s done wrong to you, I think you’re trying to forgive him too.” He chuckled as he commented, “Well, more like you’re putting him through trials of love. You know, to prove himself?”

“...”

“You don’t want to be hurt again, don’t you?”

You weakly nodded―mentally at least. All of this was so exhausting to you. If only Jinwoo had went for Cha Hae-In like he did in his past life… Then everything would been perfect and you could move on with time. 

You glanced over to the door, particularly the glass that gave you a peek of the outside, Jinwoo’s arm was there in view. Even after you told him you didn’t want to see him. You heard Jong-In’s remark, “At least our professor banned him from the lecture hall, no disturbance for the prized student and you get some time and space away from him.”

You turned back to your lecture notes, a tiny―very tiny―upward curl at the corner of your lips. “Stupid dummy…”

Note: The last part will be uploaded tomorrow on Valentine's Day~ My treat to you since this one is quite short~ Spoiler, there's a bit of angst, but it's a fluff end. No worries. Not breaking any hearts.

𝕮𝖎𝖗𝖈𝖊 𝖄.

My Works: MASTERLIST *(regarding requests, check the Masterlist to see if it’s opened or not and other info related before sending one. Thanks.)

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[askssgenerations]

[ASKS ARE OPEN]

I’ll do my best to answer all of the questions! But please note I might pick and choose depending on what’s best for the story!! Don’t worry if I haven’t done yours yet, I’ll circle back to try and hit everything eventually!

—————

[START HERE]

Welcome to S.S. Generations! Where 2 weeks after the events of the Eclipse Cannon, Sonic and Shadow fall into a new dimension called “White Space”. They also meet their counterparts from various dimensions. Follow them as they all search for a way out!

However, those who’ve been to White Space before are questioning why it’s so empty. It’s almost entirely blank, with no past, present, or future events to ground them. How are they going to get out if there’s no memories to go off of?

—————

Meet The Cast!

Sonic’s Version

Cont. ⤵️

Frontiers -> Cyber

- Doesn’t have a Shadow counter-part

- Pretty quiet and keeps to himself, which is pretty weird for a Sonic(?)

- Has strange cyber-related powers, possibly related to his glitchy appearance

- Seems to be in pain, but waves off any concern

Sonic X Shadow Generations

Modern -> Guide

- Calls himself everyone’s guide through White Space

- Still petty about having his birthday party interrupted, teases his Shadow to do stuff for him because he’s still the ‘birthday boy’

- Very laid back due to the peacefulness compared to the last time he was in White Space

Classic -> Mini-Me/Classic

- mostly follows around his older counterpart!

- doesn’t talk but is very content to zip around and show his feelings through body language

Movie -> Socks

- Once realizing everyone was giving themselves code names, he immediately went for Blue Justice. Or Speed, to reference his greatest strengths and one of the greatest movies ever made.

- Unfortunately, both ideas were shot down and he was dubbed Socks due to his lack of shoes compared to well, literally everyone else

- Constantly sprouting off some random pop culture reference

- Is very, very glad to see his Shadow alive

Boom -> Blur

- Names himself after one of his brother’s old code names for him

- Very snarky compared to the others, and is the least concerned with getting home

- Noticeably on the worst terms with his Shadow

Prime -> Paradox/Prism

- Tried to get matching nicknames with his Shadow but was rejected

- Very upbeat!

- Unlike the others, he thinks that he’s the ‘real’ Sonic and everyone else is a shatterverse version of him

—————

Shadow’s Version

SatBK -> Sir Lancelot/Knight

- Tends to be quiet to observe the others

- Notices Cyber’s deteriorating condition the fastest

Sonic x Shadow Generations -> Prince

- In one of his petty squabbles over Sonic’s birthday boy status, he lets it slip that Black Doom is his father

- After explaining that BD is their worlds equivalent of Space Satan, Socks tells him he’s basically like a Prince (dark romance style)

- The name sticks, which makes his and Guide’s squabbles much more annoying

Movie -> Eclispe

- Socks had more names for Shadow than himself

- But all other options, like Hello/Emo Kitty, Akira, Tokyo Drift, National Treasure, etc. were vetoed

- Shadow settles on Eclipse, to remind himself of his past decisions and their consequences

Boom -> Grumpy

- asshole

- Calls himself ‘Ultimate’ but dubbed Grumpy by the majority

- Very very quick to throw down with Blur, in all ways possible

Prime -> Shards/Shatterverse

- Has the same mindset as Paradox/Prism with 10x the paranoia

- Incredibly weary of their counterparts, especially after the incident with Nine

- Stays nearby Paradox/Prism at all times and is searching the hardest for a way to escape

—————

Thanks for reading!! Potentially more characters to come but that’s the cast as of right now! Any asks/suggestions are welcomed!!

​Note: this will probably have shipping!! be warned if that’s not your cup of tea!

[floatyflowers]

Dark!male Kim Possible and female reader and dark male Shego headcanon ?

The trip to the local café shop was supposed to be quick and simple, and you refused to inform Kim of it, as you were tired of the over-protective spy, despite him being assigned to protect you.

But again, Kim stomped over your boundaries and claimed it was 'I need to do this because it's my responsibility to keep you safe'

Well, Kim is hot and any girl would want to be with him because of his athletic body and fearless attitude.

But you want to get away from him in any way possible.

"How can I help you?"

You sighed, pushing aside the thought of Kim and his suffocating protectiveness, and focused on the barista in front of you.

"I'll have a..." you tell her your order, tapping your fingers on the counter as you pulled out your wallet.

The barista nodded and began preparing your drink, while you took a moment to appreciate the rare freedom you had away from Kim.

It was peaceful, no lectures, no hovering, no overbearing presence watching your every move.

And surely no unnecessary flirting.

That peace, however, was short-lived.

The café door swung open with a loud creak, and a tall figure walked in, dressed in a black and green attire.

You barely had time to register the sharp emerald eyes before a gloved hand clamped over your mouth and an arm wrapped around your waist, yanking you backward.

"Not a sound, sweetheart," a smooth, amused voice purred in your ear.

"Wouldn’t want to make a scene now, would we?"

Your heart pounded as you struggled, but your captor’s grip was hard.

Shego.

You had heard of him before.

The infamous mercenary who worked for Drakken, someone Kim had warned you about repeatedly.

But hearing about him and experiencing his strength firsthand were two different things entirely.

“Looks like I just got myself a little prize,” Shego mused, dragging you toward the exit.

The café patrons froze in shock, some even whispering, others too afraid to intervene.

Nobody is going to stop him.

What a bunch of cowards.

Just as Shego reached the door, the glass window shattered.

A blur of red and black slammed into Shego with full force, knocking you from his grip and sending you stumbling to the ground.

"Not on my watch!"

Kim’s voice was sharp, his expression dark with anger as he positioned himself between you and Shego.

Shego's confident smirk widens, as he holds you against him by the waist.

Kim’s jaw tightened, his fists clenched at his sides.

"Back off, Shego." He orders.

"You’re not taking her anywhere."

Shego chuckled, rolling his shoulders.

"Relax, Kimmie. I was just gonna borrow her. Not like they actually want you breathing down their neck all the time." He tilted his head toward you, smirking.

"Isn’t that right, sweetheart? I bet a little excitement sounds way more fun than being babysat 24/7."

"No, it doesn't, especially if you are trying to kidnap me." you point out.

Shego chuckled, tilting his head in amusement.

"Ah, come on, sweetheart. Kidnap is such a harsh word. I prefer ‘taking.’ it's much better" His grip on you tightened as he shifted his weight, clearly ready for another move.

Kim didn’t hesitate, he lunged forward, throwing a punch aimed straight for Shego’s jaw.

But Shego was fast...too fast.

He sidestepped at the last second, using his free hand to catch Kim’s fist mid-air, the impact causing a sharp gust of wind through the café.

"You always were predictable, Kimmie," Shego taunted.

You took the opportunity to act, stomping hard on Shego’s foot and elbowing him in the ribs.

He grunted in surprise, his grip loosening just enough for you to break free.

You scrambled back, heart racing, pressing yourself against the counter as Kim launched another attack.

The two fought harshly in a blur of movement punches, dodges, counterattacks, until Shego, with a knowing smirk, suddenly stopped and held up his hands in mock surrender.

"Alright, alright. I’m done playing around."

Kim hesitated, eyes narrowing.

"What’s your true motivation?"

Shego’s smirk deepened.

"I just needed to confirm something."

"Confirm what?" You asked, confused.

Shego tilted his head toward you, then to Kim.

"That she is important to you. And guess what? Now that I know exactly how much, this just got way more interesting."

And then, before Kim could react, Shego threw a small metallic sphere onto the ground. It exploded in a burst of green smoke, obscuring everything from view.

You coughed, eyes watering, as you felt a sudden gust of air, Shego was escaping.

By the time the smoke cleared, he was gone.

Kim cursed under his breath, running a hand through his hair.

"Damn it."

You turned to him, your chest still heaving.

"What did he mean by ‘confirming something’? Why would he care about how important I am to you?"

Kim clenched his jaw, avoiding your gaze for a moment before finally speaking

"Because… if he knows you’re valuable to me, it means you just became leverage."

A sinking feeling settled in your stomach.

"You mean—"

Kim nodded grimly.

"This wasn’t a random attack. Shego and Drakken have plans for you."

And that’s when your phone vibrated in your pocket.

A message from an unknown number.

See you soon, sweetheart. This is just the beginning. – S

Your fingers tightened around the device as dread curled in your stomach.

Shego wasn’t just after you, he wanted you.

However, there is something Kim didn't tell you and that is...Drakken is your father, that's why your mother tasked him with your protection.

But he can't tell you that and just made up an excuse.

Kim sees your worried expression, and wraps his hands around you from behind, placing his chin on your left shoulder.

"Don't worry, I will protect you from him even if it means I have to kill Shego."

[mulloey]

keep quiet

you make such pretty noises when you wake up.

words: 1.8k

part of my february festival

join my taglist

warnings: dom!yeosang and hongjoong, sub!reader, subby voyeur!jongho, yeosang is a little mean, look-don’t-touch, exhibitionism, voyeurism, accidental/undiscussed exhibitionism??? but no one objects, a little bit of somno but you wake up before they do anything, a bit of degradation (to jongho), praise (to you), implied unprotected sex etc

—

You wake to hushed voices and the feeling of hands on your skin.

When your eyes flutter open you see him there, just visible in the darkness of the room; he’s kneeling between your legs, rubbing you through your panties. “Joong, wha—”

“Shh.” You turn your head at the sound; still half-asleep, you hadn’t realised that your head is cradled in Yeosang’s lap. He stares down at you with a smile, rubbing your cheek gently. “Jongho’s sleeping, baby. Don’t wake him up.”

He nods towards the corner and you see he’s right; Jongho is curled up on the couch, still in the clothes he’d been wearing at send off earlier. He must be tired. “Okay,” you whisper. You don’t want to wake him; he looks peaceful.

“That’s a good baby,” Hongjoong smiles. “Let’s get you nice and wet, huh? We’ve been thinking about you all day.”

“You fucked me earlier, Joong,” you mumble. He laughs softly, pulling your panties gently to the side.

“Don’t even know why you wear these,” he mutters. “Just gets in the way.”

The feeling of his fingers pushing into you makes you gasp loudly and you only just hold back a yelp. Your eyes dart towards Jongho, but he doesn’t seem to have stirred. You breathe a sigh of relief and Yeosang tuts gently. “Needy girl,” he says. He pushes two fingers past your lips and into your mouth. “Here, doll. Think you need something to suck on, don’t you?”

“Poor girl can’t keep quiet without her mouth full, huh?” Hongjoong smiles. His fingers pump in and out of you leisurely, making quick work of your dripping pussy.

“Oh, fu—” you start to speak, muffled by Yeosang’s fingers and he pushes them further into your mouth, clicking his tongue.

“Control yourself,” he says. His voice is calm and unaffected as always but his gaze is firm. “Only reason we’re even bein’ so gentle is cus you make so much noise when we fuck you raw and we don’t want to wake up Jjong. But if he wakes up there’s no point going easy on you, is there?”

You nod, recognising the warning and close your eyes to focus on the sensations of Hongjoong’s fingers inside you. Yeosang’s other fingers caress the soft skin of your face as he pushes his other hand up your shirt to rub your breast. You squeak around his fingers, silencing yourself when he pinches your nipple harshly. “Jesus, you’re desperate,” he says.

Hongjoong laughs softly before pulling out quickly. The loss of his fingers inside you leave you feeling empty and incomplete; clenching around nothing and you stare up at Yeosang with pleading eyes. He smiles lovingly at you. “You’re gonna be nice and quiet when Hongjoong fucks you, right?”

You nod enthusiastically; drool gathers on your chest where it’s dripped out of your mouth from around his fingers and you know you make a pathetic sight, but neither of you care. He loves you like this, and you love the way he looks at you when he’s satisfied. “Good girl,” he smiles. “Always so obedient, aren’t you?”

You feel Hongjoong’s dick prodding at your entrance, aligning himself with the hole and your eyes squeeze. The entire group is, well, gifted, and you know this will hurt a little even with prep. You see him nod at Yeosang, who pulls his hand out from under your shirt to stroke your hair. “He’s gonna push in now, okay?” He says. “Be brave, honey, it’ll feel good in a sec.”

The stretch is profound but you’re able to keep quiet; once Hongjoong’s in all the way he doesn’t waste time before starting; deep, slow strokes that hit you in all the right places.

Only once he speeds up, movements getting rougher and more hurried does your resolve falter; you sink back into Yeosang’s arms; trying to silence yourself on his fingers but a hard thrust against your cervix pulls a loud moan from you before you can stop it.

“Uh oh.” Hongjoong’s amused voice grabs your attention. “Someone’s awake.”

Once again you dart your head in Jongho’s direction; this time he’s wide awake, bolt upright and staring at you with an unreadable expression.

Your face heats up and you move to try and pull the covers over yourself but Hongjoong slaps your hand away. “Morning, Jongho,” he says brightly. He sends a friendly, casual smile to the younger as if he didn’t have his cock buried inside your cunt.

“Um.” Jongho’s voice is thick and surprised but he doesn’t get up and bolt as you thought he would; in fact, he can’t seem to pull his eyes away from you—your pussy, specifically. “Hey, guys.”

“Don’t mind us,” Yeosang smiles. “We’re just stretching our girl out a little, aren’t we, Joong?”

“Mhm.” Hongjoong’s lips stretch into a knowing smile. “And I was gonna tell him he can just go back to sleep, but you don’t seem to want that, do you Jongho?”

Jongho flushes, stuttering in response but his eyes are still fixed firmly on you. You see the bulge growing in his jeans and you gulp. “I…” He starts, but he’s cut off by Hongjoong.

“If you want to watch, you can sit on the bed,” he says. His voice is gentle but holds the familiar air of authority he always carries. He turns back to you, stroking your thigh. “You’ll be good, won’t you?” He smiles. “You gonna help us put on a show for our little Jjong?”

“Yes, Joong,” you mumble.

“Good girl,” Yeosang says. “Suck on my fingers, sweetheart, you’re doing so well.”

You smile up at him, keening against his touch and he coos, turning towards his younger member. “Jongho, keep your eyes on her, alright? Watch how we fuck her.”

Sitting down on the opposite bed, Jongho’s eyes meet yours with a stunned expression. You offer him a smile, a silent assurance that you’re okay with this and he returns it. “Okay,” he whispers.

You’re given no warning before Hongjoong starts again. Without the need to keep you quiet his thrusts are harder than before, but he’s still gentle and careful with you as always. He’s rarely one for rough, punishing sex—why would he be, when he can make you come undone from pleasure alone?

Yeosang leans down to press a kiss to your forehead before he pulls your shirt up to your neck, exposing your tits. You see Jongho’s eyes bulge and he shifts uncomfortably on the bed. Gently you pull Yeosang’s fingers out of your mouth just enough to speak. “Sangie,” you whisper. “I think… ngh, I think Jjong wants to touch.”

It’s a struggle to get the words out with Hongjoong still fucking you dumb; when you’re done you push Yeosang’s fingers back into your mouth, suckling greedily and he laughs. “What a good girl, being so considerate of your friend.” He turns to the younger, who flushes under his gaze. “Is that true, Jongho?” He asks coolly. “Do you want to get off to this?”

Jongho splutters but nods, looking pleadingly at Yeosang who chuckles. “Go ahead, then,” he says. “No one’s stopping you. Fuck your hand like a pervert while we fuck an actual pussy.”

He blushes at the degradation but his dick hardens even further. He pulls it out of his pants and you make a noise of surprise; he’s bigger than you expected, bulging and leaking already, but stroking himself from the sidelines he makes a pathetic sight.

When Hongjoong hits the spot you squeal loudly, and Jongho moans in response, face crimson from the bite of Hongjoong’s words. Yeosang’s lips quirk into a soft smirk but that’s the only response the two men give him; you’re their focus right now, and fuck if you’re not coming apart so beautifully. “Such a good baby,” Yeosang smiles. “Is Hongjoong fucking you good?”

You nod, whining around his fingers as you become more and more overwhelmed. You hear the sound of Jongho groaning as he approaches his own climax and it only makes you more needy. This isn’t the first time Jongho has seen you doing… stuff… with the others, but he’s never watched you get fucked before. It’s exciting and objectifying and you love it. And the way your boyfriends speak so cruelly and harshly to him in a way they never do to you unless you’re particularly naughty is strangely arousing; perhaps it’s the fact that, in a room with someone as strong and sometimes intimidating as Jongho, they’re still unquestionably in control, and he follows their instructions without thought. You see him approaching the edge, and so does Yeosang.

“Don’t cum,” he says sharply. “Not until Hongjoong does. Don’t be disrespectful, Jongho.”

“Okay,” Jongho gasps. “I-I’ll wait.”

“There’s a good boy,” Yeosang says. Jongho flushes at the praise and it makes you giggle. Yeosang smiles, turning back to Hongjoong. “Are you close?” He asks. “I don’t think either of these sluts are gonna be able to hold it much longer.”

You whine softly; it’s fairly rare for either of them to call you names like that but it does happen, you can’t deny how sweet it sounds in that deep, sensual voice. Yeosang has an incredible way with words that can be just as biting as any slap.

“Yeah, fuck, I’m close,” Hongjoong grunts. “Want me to breed you, baby?”

You nod so excitedly it makes you dizzy. “Please, Joong,” you whine. You’re writhing in Yeosang’s grip now but he holds you steady, cooing at you. “Please— Joong, I wa—ngh.”

“Hm?” Yeosang’s voice is sickly sweet and silky. “What do you want, baby? Tell us.”

“Wanna… want Joong to put a baby in me.”

Hongjoong’s hips stutter at your words and he groans loudly; he only lasts a few more seconds before he’s releasing inside you and the feeling of his hot seed filling you up makes you cum too; Yeosang softly talks you through it before turning to Jongho, gaze hardening. “You can cum now, pervert,” he says. “But don’t make a mess.”

“O-okay.” He speeds up, pressure tightening until thick ropes of cum burst through the top. He groans, cursing to himself as he releases onto his lap. The other two men watch with amused smiles before Yeosang motions him over; his legs wobble at first when he stands up but he quickly regains himself and manages to shuffle to your side.

“Good boy, Jongho,” Yeosang smiles. “Give our girl a kiss for helping you get off.”

Jongho’s posture is shy, cheeks pink with embarrassment as he leans down, planting a soft kiss on your sweat-soaked forehead. “Thank you,” he mumbles.

“You’re welcome,” you smile.

The two older men watch the interaction fondly; Yeosang runs a gentle hand through your hair as he lays you back down. “Okay, babies,” he smiles at you and Jongho, who blushes deeper at the nickname. “Off to bed, now.”

—

requests open!

ateez taglist: @pixie0627 @hon3ysun @bbdeongi @hwaromi @tangerineastronaut @fancypeacepersona @aloevendetta @lemonkait00 @metalheadatiny @uhh-awkward-rightt @whyokoa @miyaluvvsyou @yabbadabbatuh @mylovelymito

[lovhrin]

𓇻   ॱ˖  FROM ME TO YOU park sunghoon mini smau

──ॱ˖ ❀ If there was one person yn would always remember, it would be park sunghoon, the only boy who was kind to her on her first day of school. to her, that small act of kindness meant everything. to him, it was probably just another ordinary day. or at least, that’s what she thought.

in which the most popular boy in school is tired of hiding his interest in the least popular girl in school.

❀ pairing : popular!sunghoon x quiet!femreader

❀ genre : school!au, friends to lovers, fluff, angst, smau, loosely based on kimi ni todoke

❀ taglist : closed! @tasnemluvs @honestlyatomicpanda @hhyvsstuff @skepvids @who-tf-soddhi @beigerin @tinyteezer @sasfransisco @giraffeass @velv3ts @seiamor @steddie-steddie @blvengene @starry-eyed-bimbo @ilovbeshotaro @river-demon-slayer @thinkinboutbin @starsunoo @nishimurarikisfinestan @i03jae @greentulip @naevis-hung-up @itsactuallylina @academiq @rikidaze @en-dream @rkivesfilm @kittyyy003 @haechology @univershoon @riribelle @jiiyen @elegancefr @daniellesyellowhands @sunooqvrlsx @justsvstuff @xeee334 @jungcatwonie @starbyeol1512 @right-person-wrong-time @kirakun @rairaiblog @miukidoll @unstableqi @wonuziex @yurisblooming @yyawnjun @pluggtalkk @mydearyeseo @yurisblooming @juyeoz

00. no boys allowed

soft, soothing music drifted through the café, wrapping the space in a sense of peace as the girls enjoyed their meal. the atmosphere was nothing short of serene just as expected. yn always had a way of finding the perfect spots, places that felt like a hidden sanctuary away from the world.

"yn, maybe try eating the food instead of just taking pictures of it," yizhuo teased, laughing at the way yn's face instantly turned red.

"sorry, they're just too cute," she said, finally taking a bite of her totoro cream puff and letting out a satisfied hum. "i need a good collage of photos before school starts, my photography teacher wants us to document our spring break and school starts tomorrow.”

"well, that shouldn't have been hard," yunah said, mouth full, completely ignoring yizhuo's scolding look before taking a sip from yn's drink. "you document everything, you probably haven't even realized how many photos you've taken over the brea—oh!" she suddenly cut herself off, a teasing glint in her eyes as she placed a hand over yn's. "speaking of school, have you thought about joining me for sports day?"

yn awkwardly glanced to the side, avoiding yunah's expectant gaze.

"oh, come on! i even got yiz to join my team," yunah pouted, giving yn her best pleading look.

"which is never happening again," yizhuo chimed in, taking a sip of her kiki themed latte. "i'm only going because you promised to buy me ramen for a month."

"come on, yn! i want both of my girls on my team," yunah whined, taking another sip from yn's drink, despite having her own.

"this is really good," she mused, making yn nod in agreement.

"i know, right?"

"but that's beside the point!" yunah quickly refocused, leaning in with wide, pleading eyes. "please?"

yn looked at her friend and sighed. she was never the sports type, she got tired too easily. she was more of an artsy girl, someone who kept to herself. plus, she had only transferred at the start of the year and still didn’t feel completely comfortable. but she couldn't ignore the fact that yunah and yizhuo had been nothing but kind to her since she moved. she felt like she owed them at least a little consideration.

"i'll think about it," she said at last, meeting yunah's hopeful gaze. "for real this time."

“promise?”

“promise.”

a comfortable silence settled between them, the only sounds being the occasional clink of utensils and the soft hum of café chatter. the girls stayed lost in their own worlds, scrolling through their phones and picking at their food, perfectly at ease in each other's company.

that was until yunah looked up, her eyes widening as she stared past yn and yizhuo toward the entrance.

"what the hell are they doing here?" she muttered.

yn and yizhuo turned to look over their shoulders. yizhuo immediately groaned.

"i thought this place was girls only?" she joked, rolling her eyes.

but yn barely heard her. her focus was locked on the boy who walked in last, trailing behind the others.

sunghoon.

last . masterlist . next

──ॱ˖ ❀ finally starting!!

[twistedwonderlandimaginesblog]

Valentines Day

Ace Trappola:

Ace wanted to play it off like he forgot the date, but then he’d be a liar and still in the doghouse. He didn’t want to get some generic Valentine’s related product, with some fake lovey dovey sentiment that he’d never say out loud in a thousand years. That would as disingenuous as lying and getting you nothing at all. He knew your hobbies and interests, so why was he suddenly at a loss for what would make the perfect gift for you?

You’re surprised to be greeted with a handful of colorful rectangular paper, ‘COUPON’ scribbled across the front of it in handing that looked slightly rushed. You were about to ask if he was spending a little too much time with Octavinelle before spotting the ‘within reason’ written at the bottom, getting the answer to your question before you had even asked.

“Yeah, you can give ‘em to me when you want me to do something for you.” He seemed rather proud of the idea, and you found it hard to hold back a laugh. This was clearly because he couldn’t find a gift that fit his standards, falling back on the tried and true ‘just tell me what you want directly and I’ll do my best to make it happen.’ It was very in-character of him, and you looked forward to the seeing the lengths he’d go for you.

Leona Kingscholar:

The holiday created such a buzz that Leona wanted nothing more than to run away from it. He didn’t care about couples, though he thought it provided an honest view of your partner depending on what they gave you. Money could go a long way if that was what your partner wanted, but what about the sentimental? The true romantic who wanted a real show of love and affection but could only receive a pre-made gift their lover had spotted while on the way home?

He doesn’t directly invite you to a night under the stars, but thankfully you speak Leona, and completely understood why he was telling you the exact place he’d be at a very specific time. You had, of course, received a beautiful piece of jewelry from him, something that represented his homeland and tied you two firmly together, but you knew there was more to him than just money.

A peaceful night spent beneath the stars awaited you, and as much as he insisted he didn’t believe in reading them, you couldn’t help but feel more connected while watching them together.

Jack Howl:

Jack had been standing outside the flower shop for nearly ten minutes now, a determined, somewhat scary, look on his face. Some of the patrons sent him wary glances as they came and went, wondering what he could possibly be glowering at when it came to pretty plants. Even standing outside a good distance away was almost too much for Jack to take, his nose twitching as the door swings open once again and his nose fills with the scent of every flower in the place.

He knew it was what you wanted; you had discussed flowers at length at one time due to a sudden sneezing fit that was caused by a particularly strong-smelling plant in the greenhouse. He knew your favorite color, the type you liked, he’d just have to get out the words and pay for them and then the deed would be done… Compared to the odors fighting for dominance in his nose right now, he could certainly handle a small bouquet with just one kind in them.

Jack stays strong, for you, for as torturous as this situation is as he stands in line with the enemy all around him, the smile on your face would be worth it (and his tail was already wagging happily at just the thought).  

[bumblehoneybee]

Heya! This is my first ask I've made actually, across this entire app! I was wondering if you could do something small about the reader getting her period when she gets everyone to her home. And how they would react?

Like- hello??? Your bleeding and in pain??? But not dying????

(You don't have to write it)

-I dunno.. Uh.. Scarce anon?

The Crimson Wave

For what is was worth, your body did its best to take care of you during the tumultuous time that was your stay in the factory. It warned you of what was close to breaking, flooded you with adrenaline when danger was close, and held off on overtly torturing you until you found yourself in a safe place.

Everyone was pretty beat up after all the drama, so the first days in the home were slow, a careful line up of gorging on food and drowning in the shower to finally feel clean again. You managed to keep upright as you fretted over the various guests now living in your home, making sure they were full and clean and safe and sleeping before you finally collapsed yourself.

The house was silent for the most of two days. Then, when sleep was caught up on, you found yourself gradually introducing the toys to their new lives.

Catnap took to the woods, at home in the trees, laying in the sun, chasing the animals (and probably eating them, but you didn't really care by that point). Dogday followed, at least a little, mostly staying in the backyard to laze in the grass and feel the wind on him.

Kissy trailed you around the house when not ferrying Poppy, watching you interact with the others, like she was afraid one of them would strike. Poppy helped soothe her, though, and the pair spent a lot of time sorting through your clothes, trying on things they found interesting, though little fit Poppy herself. You'd have to buy her some clothes later, Kissy too.

Doey was the most skittish, no doubt in a constant battle within his own body. But he did like your TV, the new shows playing, the old ones you could pirate for him. He tried to help you, tried to fret over the others alongside you, but you didn't let him. He had been in charge long enough; it was time for him to relax and rely on someone else.

It was a tentative peace, barely made and easily broken.

It broke when Catnap caught the first whiff of blood early in the morning.

He made a quick round, nosing the others awake as he tried to locate the weak scent. Poppy was quick to help once she understood, going to Doey with Dogday to slowly ease him into the situation, in case he panicked.

Kissy went to you. And found you. Lying in your own blood.

You didn't know Kissy could make such a noise. By the way she recoiled, she didn't seem to know it either.

Kissy rushed towards you, gathering your sleep-addled body into her arms as others soon rushed in. Dogday, upon seeing the blood-stained sheets, immediately started barking orders with such ferocity not even Poppy disobeyed, all rushing out to gather bandages, towels, water, and whatever else Dogday demanded.

Only Doey lingered, peeking around the door, a whine in his voice as he called for you.

"I'm fine." You grumbled, wiggling in Kissy's grasp. "It's normal. I'm not dying, Dogday."

"You're bleeding." He scoffed in return, leading the way towards the nearby bathroom. You were set carefully in the tub, Kissy pawing at your bloody pj bottoms, but you pushed her hands away. "Catnap! The bandages!?"

"I don't need bandages!" You called.

"Angel, why didn't you tell us you were injured!?" Poppy said, rushing in with a bottle of water clutched to her chest. "How long have you had it? Since the factory?? There's so much-"

"I'M MENSTRUATING!" You hollered, so loud everyone froze. You took advantage of their shock, shoving everyone out the door and slamming it behind you.

The ragtag group stood in the hall, listening to the shower turn on and the sounds of your muffled curses as you cleaned up yourself.

"They're. . . not dying?" Doey asked, still stood by the bedroom door. His hands shook, unable to decide what to do, where to go.

"How can someone bleed and not die?" Dogday demanded, ears pinned back. He eyed the bathroom door like he was debating ramming it down to get to you.

"Wait." Poppy said suddenly, clinking when her hands slapped to her cheeks. "Wait, oh god! They're on their period!"

Silence rang for a few moments.

Dogday dropped his head into his hands. "Fuck. . . Didn't even think of that."

"What's a period?" Doey asked. Catnap nudged Dogday's shoulder, but the hound just groaned into his palms. "They're not dying then??"

"No." Poppy sighed, stepping onto the hand Kissy offer her. "Come on. Let's wait in the living room. I'll try and explain it best I can remember. . ."

In the shower, you sighed in relief. Poppy was thankfully handling it, for the most part. You'd be sure to fill in any gaps too, once you were clean.

Still. . . it was nice to see how they cared. Your sweet protectors.