#of course this would never ACTUALLY happen

[natalievoncatte]

“Are you ready?”

Kara was at her desk, which was frankly rather unusual. She was plugging away at something, deep in concentration on whatever she was writing. Lena stopped to watch her for a while from the doorway, leaning against the frame. She found herself doing so more and more often now, largely for one reason: Kara Danvers was the prettiest girl Lena had ever seen.

If you asked Lena her type, she wouldn’t have described Kara Danvers, who was more athletic than svelte, built with strong shoulders and a swimmer’s silhouette. For all of Kara’s efforts to hide beneath soft cardigans and corduroy, it was obvious how jacked she was.

There was more than that, though. It wasn’t just her eyes, a peculiar shade of blue that Lena was sure she’d never seen before; it was the intelligence behind them, the curiosity and wit and shy, stammering confidence. Kara had a kind of nervous courage, for lack of a better way of putting it.

And she was gorgeous, of course. Honeyed curls, soft skin and pillowed lips and those gorgeous eyes, radiant eyes even behind a chunky frame.

Lena would never confess that she was a little in love with Kara. Even after the flower thing, and the buying the company thing, and…

Yeah.

“How about lunch?”

Kara looked up sharply. “What? Oh! Lena hi, I’m just-“

“Don’t give me that,” said Lena. “I’m treating you to lunch.”

“As my boss or my friend?” Kara asked, cautious.

“As me. No shop talk.”

Kara brightened; Lena had… put her in her place, not to put too fine a point on it, a few weeks ago when Kara snapped at her over a perfectly normal request to actually put in some time in her office.

It was necessary.

It also hurt like hell.

Kara made some noises about her work but acquiesced, grabbing her messenger bag and walking with Lena to the elevator. They rode in an moderately aggressive awkward silence; Kara seemed to be one of those people who chronically distrusts elevators despite-

The power went out.

The lights went with it. The elevator car dropped a foot in half a second and Lena felt herself crashing into a solid wall of Kara just before the emergency lights slammed on.

Lena took a moment. Kara had gently caught her and pulled her into a loose hug, for which Lena was grateful as it kept her from slamming her knees into the floor of the elevator.

“Lena? You okay?”

“I’m fine, you?”

Kara gently released her. “I’m… yeah. Fine. Are we stuck?”

“Power’s out. We might be here a while.”

Kara’s eyes went comically wide. “Nothing!”

Lena quirked a brow. “Okay.”

“Really, I’m fine. I was looking forward to lunch! You know me, always hungry. I wish I’d brought some snacks! I like snacks. Do you like snacks?”

Lena stared at her.

“Kara?”

“Of course you like snacks, that was so dumb. I’m sorry, I,” she looked frantically around the small space they found themselves in, “I don’t know why I’m… I’ll shut up.”

Lean shrugged and sat down, leaning against the back wall. Kara did not, choosing instead to pace, which was a tad annoying given the space they were in, but she was more worried about Kara than anything else.

She seemed… frantic.

“Are they going to come get us?”

“Eventually, if the power doesn’t kick back on first.”

“Do you think we’re stuck in between floors? I think we’re in between floors.”

“Probably.”

Kara flipped the panel down beneath the buttons and pulled out the phone inside, the plastic creaking in her grip. She pushed at the HELP button, but nothing happened.

“They know we’re in here right? Someone knows. They won’t leave us.”

Lena blinked.

Oh. Jesus.

“Kara,” said Lena. “Why don’t you sit down? We can just wait for help.”

She gave a short, sharp shake of her head in reply, like some frightened creature. She was now hugging herself and trembling.

“It’ll be soon, right? I can get out soon. I have to get out.”

“Kara,” said Lena.

Kara stared at her, and Lena knew.

“You’re claustrophobic.”

It wasn’t a question.

“Y-yes,” said Kara.

“Sit down with me, okay?”

Finally, she sat, shoulder to shoulder with Lena. Lena took her hand and squeezed it softly. Kara’s hand reminded her of an exotic bird quivering in her palm. Her pulse had to be racing.

“It’s going to be okay. They’re working on getting us out right now.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

Kara swallowed.

“I won’t let anything hurt you,” said Lena.

Kara looked at her with big, wide eyes.

“At least it’s not dark,” she said, lamely.

The lights immediately went out. Kara yelped and Lena felt her jump, hugging herself as her head thumped against the all.

“Oh Rao please no,” Kara whimpered, “please not again I can’t do it again.”

Rao? What the hell was a Rao?

“Lena, it’s dark.”

“I’m right here.”

Lena wrapped her arm around Kara’s shoulders, and found she was shaking like a leaf. A strained, choking sob ripped the air and Lena felt Kara plunge her face in her hands.

She was hot, almost feverish, and her coiled muscles felt like steel cables, even as they trembled. Lena could feel Kara’s heart pounding, incredibly fast.

“Get me out, please get me out.”

Her cell had no bars. Lena tried anyway; nothing.

Kara, very softly, began to cry. When something creaked, she almost screamed, jolting Lena.

“They can’t get in, they can’t get in, they can’t get in.”

“They?”

“The phantoms,” Kara choked out. “The other things. They want to get in, they want to get me.”

“Kara, we’re in an elevator. There’s nothing outside but concrete and steel cables.”

“Are you real?”

“Of course,” said Lena.

“It felt like I’d sleep for years, then I’d wake up and something huge would be crushing my pod or the phantoms would be scraping their claws on the canopy and looking at me. They just stared. All they had to do was wait.”

“Your pod?”

Kara froze, going totally still.

“I… uhhh… I mean my… my bed? No, the car, from the accident, my parents died in the accident, I hit my heed.”

“You told me your parents passed in a house fire.”

Kara swallowed hard. “Did I?”

Her voice was thin and hysterical.

“Please, Lena, I’m scared.”

Lena gently guided Kara’s head to her shoulder and rocked her there, lightly carding her fingers through her hair.

“It’s alright, Kara. It’ll be alright.”

“Lena,”

“It’s okay,” said Lena. “Everyone gets scared. Everyone has a fear. Even you.”

Kara sucked in a breath.

“Pod,” said Lena. “Phantoms.”

“Lena I…”

“Shhh,” said Lena. “Hush now. You’ve already saved me at least three times, I owe you one.”

Kara gently wrapped her arms around Lena and sobbed into her shoulder. Lena suspected that Kara couldn’t break them out, so she didn’t press it. She just let Kara hold her and gently stroked her hair and softly sang an old lullaby she half remembered, stumbling back over the same verses.

There was a last a loud bang and Kara jerked, then let out a slow breath as the elevator doors at last spread open, forced apart by workmen.

Lena made sure Kara got out first. Then, Kara reached down and lifted her by the waist, setting Lena gently beside herself.

“Thank you,” Kara murmured.

Lena felt the eyes of the two workers behind her but she didn’t care. She smiled softly.

“I’m not mad. Actually, this explains a lot.”

Kara swallowed, hard.

“I think we missed lunch.”

“Mmm,” Lena gave her a coquettish smile. “Why don’t we get dinner, then? Just us, at my place.”

Kara smiled, wiping away her tears.

“I’d like that.”

[deikshen]

The Heavenly-Demon Emperor Shen Qingqiu tears open the worlds with Xin Mo in search of a disciple who doesn't hate him because he accidentally saw a world where that happened—a world where the irascible disciple who he loved and spoiled so much (IN A HEALTHY WAY!!! He was a master even being a vile demon, of course he wouldn't covet his students when they were children!!! His feelings... changed when his main disciple grew up!!!) did not throw him into the Endless Abyss when Shen Qingqiu revealed his blood heritage to protect him.

A world where Shen Qingqiu instead obtained a kind and gentle disciple who, despite having to push him into the Endless Abyss with tears in his eyes, ended up waiting for, without revealing his identity to anyone in the sect, waiting and defending his name... and marrying him after a few chaotic misunderstandings!!

And Shen Qingqiu is of course on edge. He... He always doted on that disciple of his. Ever since he was a tiny bun, a white lotus. It broke his heart to have to kill him when it was clear there could never be a world where they could both live. He had killed him quickly, painlessly, and wept as if the tortured man had been himself for days.

So, Shen Qingqiu have that qi deviation and he see this other world—HAS HE MARRIED HIS GENTLE, BEAUTIFUL DISCIPLE? His gorgeous white lotus, so beautiful, so capable of loving him...

Shen Qingqiu is smart, of course. He knows that his disciple could never have married him. The man that he raised to be such a fair and just cultivator would never harbor anything but contempt for someone like him, a heavenly demon having to hide among human. So, knowing this, he understands—another soul has changed his disciple's fate and his decisions. And Shen Qingqiu will find him.

... And there is Luo Binghe, a world away. Several jobs to support himself, an orphan without support from anyone, without many friends or money to pay for his university studies. His only entertainment is reading this free xianxia webnovel of drama, revenge, and conquest—although of course, he thinks it needs a good romance. Shen Qingqiu is definitely his favorite protagonist ever, even if many stupid people hate him! He can't afford expensive merch or fan projects based on the novel, but his virtual gallery of fanarts and others is HUGE!!

His apartment is a small place in a not very safe area of the city. So when he comes home from work one day and finds to an intruder, in fact, he is not surprised. He is more surprised because the intruder is the most gorgeous and wonderful Shen Qingqiu cosplay he's ever seen in front of him in his whole life, Luo Binghe might be losing his mind a little.

But that sword looks very real... And why is Shen Qingqiu calling him my dear disciple??!

... Luo Binghe isn't objecting at all, actually.

[dannyriccsystem]

Omg you know what would be so funny, the 2025 rookies or current grid doing the tell on me TikTok trend with reader! I know the trend passed, but I still occasionally get those videos.Maybe some of them stand on readers feet bc their reactions would be funny!

If you don’t feel comfortable with this I 100% understand, but thank you in advance regardless💜

IS YOU GON’ TELL ON ME?

FORMULA ONE DRIVERS X READER

Summary: “Tell On Me” trend with the 2025 rookies + the papaya boys because I love them!

Warnings: Y/N usage, suggestive lyrics and jokes, one of them accidentally gets hit in the nuts 😕, not proofread

Featuring: LN4, IH6, JD7, KA12, LL30, OP81, OB87,

Sorry this one took forever! I’m finally getting to actually finish my requests, which ARE open! Check here for more!

Jack Doohan is such a cutie but I miss his hair so I wrote him pre-buzz!!

LANDO NORRIS - LN4

“I’m liking this angle.” Y/N immediately rolled her eyes at her boyfriend’s suggestive comment. If she was on the same level as him, she might smack his chest and tell him to knock it off. However, right now that was rather difficult.

Only hours ago Y/N had been begging Lando to participate in a trend with her. He refused, insisting there were much more fun trends to do, but finally gave in when he saw how excited she was. One person was meant to stop on the other’s legs, propped against a wall, while recording them from above. Then, they’d drop the phone and the person on the bottom would record the one on top. All while lip syncing some ridiculous audio.

“Quit moving your legs so much, I’m gonna fall!” She criticized him in a joking manner, a soft giggle leaving her lips as she reached into her pocket for her phone. She did a quick search of the audio, selected it, and then hit record. The room was dark, allowing her to use her flash to illuminate his handsome face.

He lipsynced the words, “If I beat that pussy up is you gon’ tell on me?” Just as the song said. Right then she was supposed to drop him the phone so he could capture her. That’s what was supposed to happen, but instead it landed flat on his nose. He jolted from the impact, causing Y/N to topple over and land on top of him.

“I told you not to move!” She laughed.

“You dropped it on my face!”

ISACK HADJAR - IH6

Everyone knows about Isack’s obsession with TikTok lip sync videos. He posted at least one a day, his specialty being Kardashian videos. And mind you, those were just the videos he posted. Y/N was sure that the amount of drafts he had harbored away was probably insane.

But, this idea? This was hers. He just happened to be the right person to ask, because of course he wouldn’t say no to such a proposal. Make a lip-syncing video with his girlfriend? Abso-fucking-lutely. Name a time and place, he’d be there. He sat in the corner of their kitchen on his back, his muscular legs in the air and propped against the wall. With very wobbly balance, Y/N stood on top of his feet.

“Okay, hand me the phone,” She laughed, barely able to stand still. Isack laughed along with her, until he realized he had to reach up and hand her something. With a focused expression, he tried to keep his legs still whilst simultaneously reaching up to hand her the phone. Sucess! Y/N’s hands gripped the phone, and Isack could relax against the floor.

“This is a long walk for a short drink of water,” He pointed out. Y/N just shrugged, and proceeded to hit record.

JACK DOOHAN - JD7

“I don’t know if my PR team will approve of this.” Jack chuckled, trying to keep his legs completely still while Y/N stepped atop of them. It took her a few tries, but eventually she managed to balance herself on his feet. She giggled softly, both of her hands on the wall to ensure her own safety.

“Well, this can just be for me then! Nobody else has to see.” She was grateful her boyfriend was an athlete, otherwise they’d be on a time crunch. Hey, maybe this could be a future leg workout for him. Who’s to say? “I’m already up here, pleaaase?”

“Hey, I never said no.” He laughed, running a hand through his hair to perfect his own style. After prepping himself, he nodded. “Okay, I’m ready. You can hit record whenever.” Y/N opened the app and found the audio saved to her favorites. She clicked record, and point the camera at him.

He lip synced with a big grin, and when it was time to swap, she dropped the phone, and started to mouth the words herself. After reviewing the footage, they both decided to keep it buried in Y/N’s drafts. The lyrics were too much, and the angles were a lot.

KIMI ANTONELLI - KA12

“DON’T DROP ME,” Kimi squeaked in his heavy accent, his voice rising an octave as he shouted with fear. His hands were clawing at the walls, looking for any sort of stability to keep himself balanced there. Y/N only laughed, causing her legs to shake more.

They probably should have swapped positions, but there was something humorous about him standing atop her feet. He swayed, arms out to keep himself steady. They were both against a wall with Y/N on her back, legs in the air. Kimi stood atop her feet.

“I’m not gonna drop you! Just hit record!” She muttered through fits of laughter, breathing in heavily to try and keep her composure. Only Kimi could make her laugh so hard. He pulled the phone out, and nearly fell just doing that. Without even thinking about it, she shifted.

Suddenly, he was on top of her. It happened so quickly— One twitch of the leg and he toppled over with ease. They both laughed as Kimi rolled off of her and onto his back, both of them lying there in their harmonious laughter.

LIAM LAWSON - LL30

“How do I even get into this position?” Y/N questions as she reviews the video once more. It was her idea to participate in the stupid trend, but now she was beginning to regret it. The two seemed to simultaneously agree that Liam would be the one on the bottom, since his leg strength was a lot better than hers.

“Okay, here.” He extended both of his arms and brought his knees to his chest. “Step on my feet, hold my hands, and I’ll slowly lift you.” She couldn’t help but laugh at his current predicament, but followed his instructions. Y/N carefully stepped up onto his feet and held his hands, barely able to balance as is.

Slowly, he extended his legs and she held on to the wall. A silent cheer passed over them as they reached the peak, both of their legs fully extended. It was… Awkward, to say the least. “Okay, now-” Before he could finish, Y/N let out a yelp as she came toppling forward.

Unfortunately for Liam, her knee landed right between his legs. He shouted with pain, rolling over onto her side. Half-laughing, half-groaning. “Babe- Ow?!”

She knelt beside him, laughing her ass off. “OH MY GOD- I’m so sorry!”

OSCAR PIASTRI - OP81

If anyone ever doubted that Oscar Piastri loved his girlfriend, he’d show them this video they’re making right now. Tell me, does a man who hates his girlfriend agree to film some stupid trend with her, just because her eyes sparkled with excitement at the idea. No, certainly not. How about a man who is currently lying on his back, supporting said girl on his feet as she explains the whole concept to him? Does he hate his girlfriend?

I think not.

“Okay, so… I’m gonna point the camera at you, and you’re gonna mouth the words,” She explained as if it was obvious. “And then-”

“Wait, what words? You didn’t tell me the lyrics,” he reminded gently, staring at her with that signature ‘you’re so stupid but I love you’ expression.

“Oh!” She grinned. Together, they seemed to have perfect balance. Even an awkward position like this felt natural. “If I beat that pussy up is you gon’ tell on me,” She sang very poorly. Oscar tilted his head, one brow raised.

“Really? That’s the lyric? I might get fined for this.”

“It’s for a good cause. Anyway! Afterwards, I’m gonna drop the phone and you have to catch it, turn it around, and then record me singing my part.”

So, in summary. If anyone tells you Oscar Piastri doesn’t love his girlfriend, you can confidently tell them that’s not true. He’s willing to walk the earth’s surface again and again for her.

OLIVER BEARMAN - OB87

“OW-” Y/N cried out sharply, followed by a giggle at the foolish mistake. Yeah, pro tip. If your boyfriend has long legs, don’t have him full send this trend. Y/N confidently stood atop his feet, using the wall for support. She balanced quite well, but the issue had yet to come.

With her okay, she allowed him to push his legs up. Issue? Her head hit the ceiling. With worry, her carefully lowered her, helping her get down. “Y/N, ohmygodI’msosorry, are you okay?!” She laughed as she nodded, her hands cradling the spot she hit.

“Yes, oh my God— Yes, it didn’t actually hurt that bad it just shocked me.” After getting confirmation she was okay, Ollie laughed with her, resting his forehead against her shoulder in an exasperated manner.

“I thought you were seriously hurt for a second!”

“Well for all you know I could have been.”

Yeah. Video was never posted. Was never even made.

[russo-woso]

Trouble maker || Alessia Russo x reader

Request | Masterlist

Summary Bubba gets into trouble at school for the first time which means it’s the first time you and Alessia have to deal with consequences of bubba’s actions

A/N Part of the A New Adventure universe

“Hello?” You asked, picking up your phone.

“Hiya, this is Miss Carter, Florence’s TA. There’s been a bit of an incident and we’d like it if you and Mrs Russo could come have a meeting with us.”

“Of course. Is Florence okay?” You questioned, panic running through you.

“Yes, everything’s fine. No one’s hurt but we just need to discuss something with you.”

“Okay, we’ll be there in half an hour.” You told her

“Thank you, Mrs Russo. I’ll see you soon.”

You put your phone down, rushing out of the changing rooms.

You’d finished training earlier, having tweaked your ankle in training and Renee telling you to sit out for precaution.

“Less! Alessia!” You shouted from across the field but still you got no response.

You ran more towards them, despite the pain in your ankle.

“Less!”

“Hiya, love. I thought you were heading back home.”

“I was, until I got a call from Wrens teacher. We need to go to the school and have a meeting with them.” You explained

“About what? Is Wren okay?”

“Wren is fine but they need to talk to us about something. We need to leave.”

“You two go. Our team’s little gooner comes first.” Renee said, overhearing your conversation.

“Thank you, Renee. We’ll see you tomorrow.” Alessia told her before running towards the changing rooms, assuming you were running behind her.

“Lessi! I can’t run. My ankle hurts.” You said, Alessia picking you up bridal style before running to the changing rooms with you in her arms.

Alessia quickly showered - the quickest showers in shower history - before changing and getting your stuff.

Alessia drove you both to Wrens school, making it just in time.

“Let’s see what our Wrens been up to.” Alessia said, taking your hand in hers as you walked into the reception area.

“Hi Mrs Russos. If you could just follow me.” Florence’s actual teacher - Mrs Cooke - told you, guiding you through to a separate meeting room where Wren was sat - her face red and blotchy, tear stains down her cheeks.

Your heart broke as you set eyes on your five year old.

You and Alessia took a seat on either side of wren.

“So, we’ve had a bit of an incident this morning.” Mrs Cooke began, Wren’s head falling as tears began to form in her eyes. “A classmate of Florence’s said a comment and in retaliation, Florence punched said child. Now, we’ve dealt with this said child and they’ve gone home for not only their injury, but also for their comment towards Wren. We understand that Florence may have had a lot of anger towards this child but violence is not accepted or tolerated in our school.”

“Oh, Wren…” you whispered, wren not looking up as her head continued to hang with shame. “I’m so sorry this has happened. I can assure you this will never happen again.”

“Both of them have apologised to one another and the other child’s parents are fine with the situation and won’t be taking it any further. I would suggest you take Wren home, I think it’s been a crazy day for her.” Her teacher said and you and Alessia nodded in agreement.

“Thank you.” Alessia told her, standing up before you walked out with Florence.

The three of you walked to the car in silence.

“Mama, mummy, are you angry at me?” Wren asked as she got in the car.

“I’m angry and disappointed, Wren. What did they say to you to make you punch them?” You asked

“He said that you and mummy were bad footballers and that girls can’t play football.” Wren told you both, a proud look appearing on Alessia’s face as she continued to drive.

“And because he said this, you punched him?”

Florence nodded in response

“Auntie le said that if anyone said something or did something bad to me, I should punch them.” Wren explained, you rolling your eyes at the justification.

“Right, and you decided to listen to auntie le and punch him? Why didn’t you go tell a teacher? You can’t just hurt people, wren.”

“Auntie le’s always right though. And you and mummy not bad footballers.”

“Yeah but Wren, you—” you began but Alessia cut you off.

“—Love, she was only protecting us.”

“I don’t care, Alessia. She still hurt someone and she can’t do that. Wren, you’re grounded for two days. No iPad, no TV. Got it?” You told her and she nodded.

“Good. And when we get home, you’re going to your room for five minutes.”

The rest of the way home was silent, none of you saying another word.

When you arrived at home, Wren went up to her room, leaving you and Alessia alone.

“Baby, she was only protecting us. She didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Less, she punched a kid. She can’t be doing that. She hurt him. Can you imagine if that was the other way round and we got a call saying wren had been hurt by someone. You’d be fuming.” You said

“Too right. No one hurts our Wren.”

“Exactly, that’s how his parents must be feeling right now. It’s not acceptable, lessi. I need to go call le and find out when and why she told wren to punch a kid.” You said, grabbing your phone and walking towards the dining room, closing the door behind you for the quietness.

You clicked on Leah’s number, bringing the phone to your ear.

“Hiya le.”

“How’s Wren? What did she do?”

“Well, we’ve had an incident where she punched a boy in her class because her auntie le told her to punch someone if they were ever mean to her.” You said, a silence occurring as you finished your sentence.

“Well… I did tell her that but I didn’t think she’d listen.”

“Le, you’re like her auntie, in fact you are her auntie and she listens to you more than she listens to me and less. Please don’t tell her anything like that again.” You told her

“I won’t. I promise.”

“Good. I’ll see you tomorrow where I’ll be giving you a proper lecture.” You said, a smile on your face as you said it.

“Oh god. Maybe I won’t go tomorrow.”

“Like vice captain Leah won’t go to training? Funny joke that is. Bye, le.”

You put the phone down, walking out of the dining room and seeing wren sat on the sofa with her iPad in hand.

“Umm, what an earth is this?” You questioned, gesturing to her iPad. “It hasn’t been five minutes. Why aren’t you in your room and why do you have your ipad?”

“Mummy said I could come down and watch Bluey.” Wren told you

“Alessia! I said she was grounded!”

“Love, she hasn’t done anything wrong. She protected us, I don’t see the big deal.” Alessia explained as you shook your head in disbelief.

“Are you kidding me? Wren, bubba, please go into the kitchen. I’ll call you through in a minute.”

Wren nodded, putting her iPad down and going into the kitchen.

“Less, how many times do I have to say it. She punched someone. If we don’t show her any consequences then she’ll just do it again. Please, I need to you to be on my side otherwise she’ll grow up hating me but loving you.”

Alessia slowly nodded, agreeing with your thinking.

“Thank you.”

“Wren!” Alessia called her through, wren soon walking into the living room.

Alessia picked wren up and sat her on her lap.

“Listen, bubba, what you did today is wrong and you can’t do it again. Because of your actions, me and mama have agreed that you’re grounded for two days. If you go to training with us, you’re grounded, if you go to nana and gramps house, you’re grounded. Mama’s spoken to auntie le and even auntie le said it was wrong. Now do you understand why you’re in trouble?” Alessia asked her

“I understand mummy. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, bubba. We understand why you did it but you can’t hurt people.” You added, hugging her tightly.

“I not listen to auntie le now. She tells me bad things.”

“Okay, bubba.” You laughed, running a hand through her hair.

“Can I still colour?” Wren asked and you nodded with a smile.

“Thank you.” You whispered to Alessia

“We’re a team, love. You don’t need to thank me.”

[theresatzu]

Blue Lock characters against your boyfriend

Pairings: Blue Lock character x reader

Featuring: Isagi, Sae, Rin, Kaiser & Ness

Tropes: Jealousy, fluff, crack

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°●°●°

You're dating a football player, and it just so happened that your friend had to play against him.

Cue you standing in your boyfriend's team's VIP box, cheering him on.

Chaos and jealousy ensues.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°●°●°

Isagi Yoichi

-> Scores more goals than your boyfriend.

-> He literally completely shuts him down, not even allowing him one foot in the box. It's basically humiliation at this point.

-> Who's Isagi Yoichi without his colourful vocabulary? Expect those insults, too.

"You're too slow. I've already seen through all your moves." Isagi swiped in, cleanly stealing the ball off of your boyfriend, Yuu.

"What? Aw, come on, man." Yuu groaned, trying to get the ball back, but he was too slow; Isagi had already passed the ball to Hiori.

Before rushing to the front to participate in the attack, Isagi glanced back at Yuu.

Just why...?

He was so mediocre. Couldn't even hold on to the ball for more than two seconds. What was it that you saw in him?

Isagi's lips twitched downwards into a scowl.

"Just a piece of advice: don't get in my way. On this field, you're inferior to me, you wash out of a striker." Isagi bluntly spoke, jealousy harnessing his acerbic words.

Yuu gaped, jaw slackened at the harshness of Isagi's cruel remark. "You...!"

But Isagi had already hurried away, his mind set on scoring a goal.

Just you wait. He'll make you'll only want to cheer him on.

Meanwhile, the ball was now in possession of Hiori, courtesy of Isagi.

Hiori played out a defender, deftly moving past him as he surveyed the box.

"Hiori!" Isagi shouted loud and clear, flailing his arms as he called out for the ball.

Hiori raised a surprised eyebrow. Normally, Isagi was eager to score goals, but his movements had become more erratic, more attention seeking.

Almost as if he wanted to be seen.

Hiori chanced a cursory look at the VIP box. A snort slipped past him. Of course. That is what had fired up Isagi's spirits.

"Hmpf. Yer presence is awfully obnoxious today, hmm? Wonder why that is." Hiori mused sardonically.

With a mighty kick, Hiori passed the ball over the players' head, aiming straight at Isagi.

"This'll do." Isagi calculated the distance from where he would hit the ball, but suddenly, an ominous presence appeared behind him.

"Hope you haven't forgotten about me, Isagi." Yuu heaved, having run the whole distance to his own half. He rushed up to block Isagi's shot.

Isagi's eyes widened fractionally, before they narrowed in a smug way.

"No, not at all." Isagi calmly replied. "I should actually thank you."

Yuu's eyes widened. "Wait, what--"

Pushing an arm on top of Yuu's shoulder, Isagi propelled himself upwards.

Yuu gasped, trying to shake off Isagi's weight. But it was futile.

Isagi was using Yuu as a literal support to score his own goal...!

This was just plain humiliation.

The ball appeared in front of Isagi, poised and swift.

"Perfect."

Isagi shot.

"GOALL!! A TERRIFIC DIRECT SHOT FROM THE AIR, NUMBER 11 HEREBY PUTS BASTARD MÜNCHEN IN THE LEAD!"

Isagi landed limbly on his feet, sweat sticking to his forehead.

His teammates ran up to him, patting him on the back and cheering exuberantly.

But his eyes were fixed on the opposing team's VIP box.

There you were.

Smiling.

Smiling at him.

A rush zipped through him, electrifying and compelling, urging him to score another goal, because there you were, blinding smile directed at him. Only him.

And maybe that was the real victory.

Itoshi Sae

-> Won't even let your boyfriend touch the ball.

-> Completely tears him apart using his ruthless logic and fearsome tactics.

-> It's safe to say that your boyfriend never stood a chance.

Fuji, your boyfriend, drove up front, making deft use of his dribbling. He was now in the middle, surrounded by a myriad of players.

But that was no problem for him.

His power was dribbling, and this was child's play for him, no one would be able to stop him.

Until someone did.

A leg appeared out of nowhere, swiftly stealing the ball off of him. Fuji's eyes widened.

No one had been able to do that before.

"Don't you know that lethargy kills off the talent of every player?" Sae emerged from out of his blind spot, eyes as stoic as ever.

"What--"

"Not that you had much to begin with."

"And the ball is back to Itoshi Sae! What will he do now?" The voice of the commentator blared throughout the stadium.

Sae tuned out the noise, his eyes darting around the field.

He rushed forward, tipping the ball upwards when the opposing central mid rushed to put a halt to his momentum.

He easily slipped past, leaving the player dumbfounded in his wake.

He was now mere metres distanced from the box, a hazardous area. Two defenders must've sensed this and lunged at him, feet extended. Probably to limit his options.

It was a fine tactic.

But a basic one.

"If you want to stop me, you'll have to do better than that." Sae kicked the ball just shy from brushing the strands of the players' head.

The ball swerved with a beautiful curve until it was received with the feet of his teammate up front.

"Wow, a magnanimous pass, Itoshi Sae is threading the needle!"

However, passing the ball wasn't the only thing Sae was capable of.

He swerved around the two remaining defenders, his refined off-the-ball movements allowing him to slip past and to position himself in an optimal place to score.

"Wait... Itoshi Sae has moved up the front?! He's in the box now! Will he assist another goal, or will he shoot himself?!"

That's right. Itoshi Sae wasn't only a midfielder, he was also a former striker.

He'd purposefully passed the ball into a tight corner, thereby forcing the front player in a tough position. Scoring from that angle would be near impossible.

Sae's ears picked up on the sounds made by the ball, swishing through the air after being passed by his teammate, making its way towards him.

As expected.

He jumped upwards and received the ball.

There. Just him and the keeper.

Sae allowed the rush adrenaline to flow through his leg, channelling all the energy into his mighty kick.

The ball swerved through the air, curved right where Sae wanted it to be.

A pinpoint execution.

"AAAAAND IT'S A GOAL! A BEAUTIFUL CURVE RIGHT IN THE LEFT CORNER! ITOSHI SAE'S GAME IS PHENOMENAL TODAY!"

A loud clamour rose up from the stands, Sae's teammates cheered, but they knew better than to drag him into an embrace.

Sae stalked back to his own half, eyes set indifferent and aloof.

But one players wasn't as sensible.

Fuji stomped over to him, fists balled, face contorted, as he roughly shoved Sae's shoulder.

Sae raised a dismayful eyebrow, remaining unmoved. Fuji flushed red from embarrassment.

"Are you targeting me?" Fuji's jaw tensed, coming up into Sae's face.

Merely raising an eyebrow, Sae responded, "I only attacked your team at their weak spot and scored a goal, something any decent player should be able to pull off."

Fuji clenched his fists. "Are you calling me a weak spot--"

"Yes. You're not even putting up a fight, are you?"

Fuji's shirt was slicked with sweat, and his hair was sticking to his temples. He'd been running off and on the field.

"Are you mocking me--"

"Right now, the crowd's looking at me. Not a lukewarm player like you." Sae ruthlessly cut in. "If you know your worth, I should stand at the sidelines."

Sae's lips tugged downwards into a disgusted frown. "Not only are you embarrassing yourself, you're embarrassing her, too." He nodded at the VIP box where you were perusing the match.

"There's no place for useless players like you on this field, and certainly not in her heart."

Itoshi Rin

-> This man full on targets your boyfriend.

-> Intercepts any play he makes, completely shutting him down.

-> Continuously lures out his strongest weapon, only to crush it with an unwavering cruelty.

As Kato walked up on the field, Rin saw you wave at your boyfriend, an excited grin on your face.

Even though the crowds were shouting Rin's name, his lips pursed together when he saw you in the box of the juxtapositional team.

Clenching his teeth, Rin hoped if you'd spare him a glance, too.

But it was as if he were only air to you.

Rin scoffed. He'd make you look.

And there was only one way to do that.

Rin's eyes shifted to where Kato stood, a beam on his face as he sent you a kiss wave.

He would wipe that smile off of his face and turn it into a gruelling wail.

The startsign went off. It was the opposite team's ball.

Kato was a central forward, so he quickly received the ball, already beginning to build up an offense.

Too bad.

Like a lawnmower, Rin completely derailed Kato's attack by instantly storming up to him and swishing the ball from him.

Eyes widening, Kato lunged back, running after Rin.

But this was well within the calculations made by Rin.

Kato Matsuda, weapon: aerial proficiency.

So Rin stooped to a halt, allowing Kato to get near.

Then, he tipped the ball upwards. Kato's jaw set determinedly as he jumped upwards, ready to receive the ball, but Rin was faster.

Rin's foot tilted it, so the ball slipped past Kato. Using Kato's momentarily force, Rin pushed himself forwards.

"Wah--" Kato fell backwards from the shove Rin had given him.

But Rin didn't even look back once.

"How... he couldn't do that before!"

That was right. But Rin's flow state could.

A sick satisfaction rumbled in Rin's chest at the destruction of Kato's strongest weapon.

And it was also Rin's flow state that managed to make a goal within the first few minutes of the match.

"A GOAL, AT THE FIFTH MINUTE? IS ITOSHI RIN ACTUALLY HUMAN?"

A boisterous cheer went along the stands, flags triumphed as countless hands clapped for the miracle Rin had pulled off.

But Rin couldn't care less about that.

In his periphery, he saw Kato storm over, a dismayed expression on his face.

Tch. Lost like a sore loser.

Kato scowled as he passed Rin. "That was a fluke. I won't let you score another time."

Rin raised one eyebrow impassively. "Try to keep up first, you lukewarm chimp."

"Oh? Are you challenging me?" Kato goaded, a glimmer of confidence in his eyes.

Revolting.

"As if you don't have enough challenge even holding on to the ball." Rin retorted without missing a beat.

Lips slanted, Kato smirked.

"I'll show you exactly why she chose me over you."

In hindsight, that was probably the worst thing he could've said to Rin on a football field.

If Rin hadn't been pumped up before, then he was now absolutely revved.

Rin could feel the anticipation thrill within him, could hear the urge, the urge to demolish everything in his path.

He closed his eyes, and drowned in the flow that would trample this match.

"Yet another ball intercepted by Itoshi Rin! It seems that PXG has set to fully shut Kato Matsuda down!"

Kato frustratedly pounded his fist on the ground.

He'd been running all about the field, but everytime, Itoshi Rin had been there, too, absolutely destroying his weapons and leaving him in his dust.

And well, that wasn't the only thing he'd lost.

There you were in the stands, eyes glued to Rin. Eyes only for you. A glint of awe, and a hint of pride.

And as Itoshi Rin scored another goal, Kato knew that that wasn't the only victory he'd dragged in.

Michael Kaiser

-> Open degradation.

-> Scores countless of goals, and celebrates them as if he's an imperial emperor back in the Roman empire.

-> Just like Rin, wholly fixates on shutting him down.

Most people make snide comments about the person they're jealous of.

Michael Kaiser takes it to the next level.

"A FABULOUS SHOT, THE MAGNUS IMPACT ELICITS SHIVERS FROM ITS MAGNAMITY!"

Kaiser coolly retracted from the goal area, sauntering off to Akira, a cocky smile on his face.

The contrast between your boyfriend and your friend was stark.

Akira was panting heavily, sweat beaded on his forehead and face ruddy from extortion.

Kaiser on the other hand, look unruffled and poised. There was just this pristine and charming air about him that lured people in.

"Having trouble keeping up, you clown?" Kaiser simpered, eyes taut in a disparaging manner.

"Shut... up!" Akira heaved, brushing his damp locks out of his face.

Kaiser looked down his nose at him.

God, he looked like a damnes dehydrated donkey.

How had you ever chosen him?

And in classic Kaiser manner, he patted Akira's hair, pushing his head down. It was a display of superiority, one that came as easily as breathing to the likes of Michael Kaiser.

"Having had enough already?" Kaiser snickered. "We're not even twenty minutes in."

Oh the gall-- delirious from fury, Akira shoved him off, scowl forming on his face.

But Kaiser was far from done.

"Why don't you go and take your designated seat on the sidelines, bench warmer?"

Akira gritted his teeth, humiliation washing over him. Yet he stood strong in adversery. "I'll score a goal."

Kaiser raised one eyebrow. "Aw, how cute. You still think you stand a chance."

He didn't. Stand a chance.

Kaiser continuously swept in, intercepted the ball, passed to Ness, and made a glorious counter that made the crowd holler and whoop like he had pulled of a miracle play.

And of course, he had to act the part, too.

Kaiser flashed a grin laced with a confident veneer, as he winked at the crowd.

Like he was some goddamn movie star.

And well, in a sense, he really was.

Kaiser was the main act, taking the stage as if he were made for it. His natural charisma and stunning looks enchanting and drawing all the gazes to him.

And then. Well, there was Akira.

He had miserably flunked since Kaiser had started hounding him.

His passes were off and due to the increasing pressure and stress as a consequence of Kaiser's meddling, Akira had scarcely acquired the ball from his teammates.

He was completely singled out.

A clown act that only existed to be belittled and laughed at.

After yet another goal of Kaiser, you, from the stands, eyed Akira, who was now thoroughly crushed. His eyes were casted downwards, and his posture slumped.

You winced. He really seemed worse for wear. But your gaze was quickly drawn away, as Kaiser called your name.

"For you." Is what he mouthed, pointing at you, casting you in the spotlight that was a perpetual shadow to Kaiser.

Your face heated up, embarrassed at the attention being put on you. So you opted to just stare back at Kaiser, hoping to distract yourself from the interest of other people.

However, in Kaiser's eyes there wasn't only complacency and conceit. A glimmer of vulnerability and hope shimmered through his cerulean eyes.

As if dedicating these goals to you, was akin to declaring his love for you.

And maybe, when Kaiser dipped into a dramatic bow, the closing act of his goal, it really was just that for him.

After all, an emperor bowing to you, wasn't that a confession on itself?

Alexis Ness

-> Stealthily operates from out of the shadows, you'll never see him coming.

-> Ness's derision is never obvious, but that doesn't entail that a few well-placed comments here, and a pat disguised as a nasty shove there, aren't as menacing as they were meant to be.

"I've read about you." Ness smiled as he ran up to Souta, your boyfriend, who was driving up the middle.

Souta furrowed his brows in puzzlement. He dribbled away from Ness, but Ness stuck to him like adhesive.

"You're a decent player. Reasonable stats, all-rounder. But your special weapon is your ability to get in behind." Ness topped off, ignoring the baffled noised Souta made.

"Huh--" Souta shot him an uncomprehending look.

Who started yapping in the middle of the match?

"But for that to happen, you have to be focused on the enemy. You have to seize the perfect opportunity to slip past. But..."

Ness grinned, a devilish tint to it. It was a great contrast to his deceptively innocuous countenance.

"When you're the one who's distracted, your weapon is dead."

Souta's eyes went wide as saucers, as Ness nibbed the ball off of him, his flexible ankles easily maneuvering the ball out of rang.

"Y/n's special to me, sp she should watch only me." Ness said unapologetically. "So I'll take this from you."

He then passed the ball, an illusion cross diving straight towards Kaiser, who finished it off with a thundering proficiency, and a beat later, the referee whistled, signalling the match had come to its conclusion.

A boisterous bravado arose. Of course, Kaiser was the one who received the majority of the upheaval, but it was the quiet satisfaction brimming within Ness that was enough for him.

That, and the devastated look Souta was sporting.

Ness frowned, walking up to him.

"It's rude to avert your eyes when you've played a game. It's imperative for a good boyfriend to properly show gratitude for the people who have showed up for you."

Souta's lips trembled from frustration. He was completely worn-down. Yet he refused to look up, humiliation preventing him from even acknowledging you.

Ness smiled at him eerily. "Are you disrespecting Y/n right now? Look. Up."

Souta shook his head, stomping away.

Shrugging, Ness waved at you, pleasant expressions fixed on his face, a stark contrast to the morbid look he'd been sporting earlier.

Just with some surreptitious tricks, Ness had managed to completely bring the other's team to devastation.

And all that, because of his fidelity to you.

Ness might not be the flashiest ones, but his loyalty shone brighter than anyone else's.

[lovegreenie]

Love, Copycat | NSH Riki | 西村 力

synopsis. 3 times you wonder why Riki likes copying you, and the 1 time you realize why

pairing. bsf! riki x fem! reader

tags. fluff, reader is oblivious, college! au, extremely self-indulgent, reader is a bit of a nerd, Riki indulges her nerdiness… a little too much, childhood friends to almost lovers (they’re getting there), attempt at comedic narration

essie's ✉️. “Soft Spot” by Keshi inspired this (I was possessed by it while writing this actually) Also please tell me someone has this as their love language too like it’s got such a special place in my heart:( And thank you to bestie @sweethoneyjays for beta reading !!

wc. 2.9k

Copycat.

It’s what you’ve always called Riki.

It’s his contact name on your phone, it’s the name you use whenever you talk about him, and it’s the name you call out whenever any minor inconvenience graces you with its presence.

Like right now.

“Mm?” He hummed in response when you groaned out your little nickname for him, his eyes never leaving the switch in his hands as he lay sprawled across your bed. 

All you could do in that moment was let out a sigh as you went slack against the backrest of your desk chair, your head hanging from its edge while you stared at the ceiling.

“I thought I’d love it, I truly did. It's a mystery, has secret societies, a commentary on classism and misogyny; everything I love in a book,” you said as you picked up the one on your desk and looked at it with contempt, “so why can’t I get through this one? It’s barely 500 pages.” 

Riki paused his game to walk over and sit on the ottoman you keep by your desk. You handed over the book for him to check out, and he mumbled as he read the title on the cover.

“Can’t you just do your assignment on ‘Babel’? It’s the same genre, has a secret society, explores the same problems, and it’s dark academia like this one, no?” He handed the book back to you after he finished reading the synopsis.

You blinked at him.

“You’ve read… ‘Babel’? As in… 1830s Oxford, the power of translation, daddy-issues-Robin ‘Babel’?”

There was a hint of confusion and amusement behind your surprised look, and a smile tugged at the corners of your lips. You never took Riki to be a book-worm in the nine years you’ve been friends, never once saw him pick up a book if it wasn’t for school.

At this point, you were less upset with your professor’s poor literary choice for your first assignment of the term, and more so delighted by the fact that your best friend had read what is probably your all-time-favorite book by your all-time-favorite author.

Unprompted.

Riki huffed out a little laugh as he got up and plopped back onto your bed, not before annoying you with a hair ruffle though.

“Yeah well it’s the only book you’ve been carrying around since last year. You’ve even filled it up with tabs and annotations” He resumed his game as he continued to talk.

“If it was good enough for you to keep around that long after finishing it, I figured I’d give it a shot.”

You didn’t know how to respond.

A comforting silence blanketed the both of you like it usually did when you guys would hang out, the sound of his game being the only thing filling in the space between the two of you.

All you did was stare at the switch-occupied boy on your bed, thinking his answer would make sense if you did.

You stared, and you stared, and you stared,

but to no avail.

You sat up properly and turned back to face your desk, opening the book to the page you left your bookmark on, and started to read like you weren’t just complaining about it a minute ago.

“Copycat…” You murmured to yourself, your reddened cheek pressed against the palm of your hand, elbow settled down on your desk.

Riki explained himself like that was the most normal course of action ever… and you know what? Maybe it is.

For him at least.

It’s then that you realize that you really shouldn’t be surprised at this point, not when it’s happened so many times before.

It is how he earned his nickname after all.

The birth of “Copycat” happened about two years into your friendship, some time in between grades 9 and 10, with your 9th grade second semester English finals being the catalyst of it all.

You were working on your paper during lunch break, stationed in front of one of the library computers as you scribbled down notes and did your research.

“I didn’t realize watching cartoons was considered data gathering.”

You pulled out your earphones and paused the show that was playing on the monitor. The sight of Riki and his teasing smile greeted you when you turned around in your seat.

“We’re tasked to do a literary analysis, Riks,” you gestured towards the computer screen while hitting him with a deadpan look, “and this cartoon is literature.”

Your retort didn’t wipe the playful grin off his face, instead it only served to widen it. Riki sat himself in front of the computer next to yours, setting his bag down on the floor as he switched on the CPU.

“What’re you in the library for?” You asked as you put your earphones back in.

“‘M also doing my English paper.”

“On?”

“‘Weathering With You’.”

“And yet you have the audacity to come at me for watching a cartoon for my finals,” you quipped and shook your head disapprovingly, earning a soft chuckle from him. “Tsk tsk tsk.”

“I’m gonna pretend you didn’t just call ‘Weathering With You’ a cartoon for the sake of our friendship,” Riki feigned offense, to which you fondly rolled your eyes.

“What’s…” He leaned towards your screen for a second to get a better look, “What’s ‘Voltron’ about anyway?”

And that, ladies and gentlemen, opened a whole can of worms.

You went on a tangent about how you have a love-hate relationship with the show, about how poorly the writers treated the plot and the individual arcs of two characters, and about how the main romance was bullshitted and didn’t even make sense—a tangent that lasted 10 minutes at the very least.

You were hit with a belated sense of embarrassment by the end of your little spiel, realizing that you just kept rambling on about the what-should-have-beens of a space lion cartoon.

You were about to either apologize or thank Riki for sitting through all of that, but he did you one better by asking;

“Is it cool if I watch with you?”

You were slightly taken aback; you weren’t expecting him to ask if he could watch your silly little show with him.

That’s how you two ended up spending the rest of that day’s lunch period in the library, sharing your earphones as the rest of Voltron’s season 3 played on the computer screen, Riki’s own research for his finals be damned.

Now, how exactly did this little library watch party serve as the catalyst for “Copycat”?

Well a week later, he came up to you saying that he watched the rest of the show. You didn’t think much of it besides being happy that Riki picked up one of your interests, now getting to geek out about the show with him; but then you noticed he started doing that with every other interest you’d mention from then on out.

You found out on a random Tuesday that Riki started liking a band that you absolutely love but only mentioned in passing; you were hanging out in your house, in the middle of Just Dance, when Riki brought up getting into that one movie series you talked about the week prior; and you were walking side by side one afternoon, Bisco in between both of you, when Riki told you that he picked up a hobby of yours.

“Copycat,” you muttered for the first time, right after he told you he tried that egg tart you really like from the bakery near your high school.

It was summer break. The both of you had just gone for a couple of rides around your neighborhood on your bikes, and now you guys were sitting curbside, cooling off with popsicles.

“What? You don’t like that I like what you like?” Riki asked as he took a bite out of his tangy ice lolly, a teasing lilt in his voice.

“No no, I never said that; I’m happy you’ve been refining your taste,” you quipped back with a smirk as you licked your own treat, “but that doesn’t make you any less of a copycat.”

The humming of cicadas filled the silence between the two of you, and for a while you simply appreciated the way the trees swayed and the way speckled sunlight hit the pavement you were sitting on. 

You didn’t think about how the both of you would still carry that silly off-handed nickname years later, well into your sophomore year of uni.

You never stopped to wonder why.

Why Riki kept copying you, to be specific.

It’s not like you minded, far from that actually—though you’d never admit to that and give up the fondly annoyed front you put up with him.

You were simply curious.

And so were Jake and Sunoo, apparently.

“No, because you’d have to strap Riki to a chair if you want him to actually watch something.” Sunoo explained, exasperation laced in his voice.

“That isn’t an exaggeration, by the way,” Jake chimed in, “we had to hold him down just so he’d watch ‘Love, Rosie’ with us.”

“You’re serious?” You laughed at the thought of Riki being held down exorcist-style just for a movie.

The three of you had been doing uni work in a cafe for about two hours at that point, hunched over your laptops and lecture notes while sipping on watered down iced coffee. Your much needed study break came in the form of Riki slander.

“I honestly don’t know how you do it.” Sunoo sighed as he closed his laptop.

“Hmm?” You hummed in response, not quite sure what he was referring to.

“You know, getting Riki to do the things you like with you.”

“Yeah whenever he gets into something new or recommends something to us, we ask him how he found out about it and he’d say ‘She likes it, so I thought I’d give it a shot too.” Jake added.

“Oh-”

You didn’t really know how to answer that, because you never had to ask Riki in the first place.

“Well if I’m being completely honest, I don’t. He just…” You vaguely gestured to nothing, “does it himself lol.”

The apples of your cheeks went pink and you tried to play it off coolly by pretending to write notes down, but it was too late because Sunoo already had a knowing smile on his face.

Jake was about to ask Sunoo why he was grinning from ear-to-ear when Riki arrived, immediately sitting next to you and greeting you with a pinch on your cheek. You pretended to swat it away but made no real effort to get him off you.

“Copycat,” You greeted with a blank tone, acknowledging his arrival without having to look at him, not with your face all red.

“Hello, Shortie.” Riki greeted back with a fond smile before he turned to face the two other boys at the table, “My dear hyungs.”

Jake went in for a dap, and Sunoo just rolled his eyes.

“Why’re you late? We’ve been here for two hours already.” Sunoo scolded, though there wasn’t any real bite to his words.

“Sorry, should’ve texted you guys; Sola needed help with homework, and my older sister needed a ride to her part-time.” Riki explained as he set down a box in the middle of the table.

“I also took a detour and bought snacks for you guys.” He added as he opened the lid. You looked at the box and sure enough, it was from that bakery you mentioned to him all those years ago. The sight of the egg tarts’ golden caps and the smell of their buttery crust felt like a hug from a dear old memory.

Jake immediately grabbed a tart, and Sunoo did a little happy dance before thanking Riki (he even threw in a “you should be late all the time if you’re gonna buy us snacks like this~”)

“Oh my God these are amazing.” Sunoo groaned as soon as he took a bite, face crumpling in what looked like anger from how good the tart was.

“Where did you buy these?” Jake asked, equally as impressed by the little pastry in his hands.

“A bake shop near our old high school,” Riki answered simply.

He pulled out a tart from the box and handed it over to you, a soft smile on his lips as he glanced your way. “These tarts are her favorite, and the bakery was en route to here so…”

Riki didn’t finish his sentence, instead opting to dig into an egg tart himself as he opened up his notes and started to work.

You were too surprised by his last statement that you forgot to take a bite out of the treat in your hands.

It tasted a lot sweeter and felt a lot warmer since you’ve last eaten it. And no, it’s not because the bakery switched up their recipe.

You started to understand why; why Riki kept copying you, for that matter.

And it only took one last push in the right direction for you to fully come to your senses.

“You’re not getting anything?” Riki asked. He followed closely behind you as you browsed the shelves of the music shop you guys were in.

“Not today at least,” You answered, eyes still focused on the jewel cases in front of you, “I just wanted to check the place out to see if they’ve got any of the albums I’m looking for.”

“I saw Big Thief and The Marias back there.” Riki mentioned.

“Yeah, I did too.” You smiled.

“They’re definitely on my list; I just need a little more time to save up so I can buy a few of the CDs I want in one go.” You explained as you placed back a Sade album on the shelf. “I kinda want to have more than one album on hand with me; more variety, y’know?”

The both of you left the music shop empty-handed that day.

On a bus ride home from uni about two weeks later, Riki asks you if you’ve saved up enough to buy the albums you want.

“Not yet, almost there though,” You answer simply before sporting a cheeky smirk, “Why? Want to buy them for me instead?”

“Please, if I had that kind of money, it’d go straight to my Steam wishlist.” Riki mused.

“Ahhh yeah, Hades 2…” You sucked in a breath.

“Exactly.”

There’s a momentary silence between you two, filled up by the humming of the AC unit and the thrumming of the engine.

“Why’d you ask anyway?” You asked, looking out the window.

“Hmm? Oh- uhhh…” Riki stammered for a bit as he rummaged through his bag. He pulled out a CD before handing it over to you.

You looked at the jewel case in Riki’s hand and then at him.

“What’s this?” You asked as you slowly took it from him and scanned the front cover. 

It read, “Love, Copycat,” with a drawing of you below it.

Before he could even answer, you realised what it was.

“I uh… made you a playlist,” Riki said in a hushed and bashful tone, a contrast to his usual confident and playful demeanor. “I thought I’d make you one while you saved up for the albums you want. You seemed pretty excited about using that CD player.”

You felt a pang in your heart when you looked up to see the sincerity in Riki’s eyes and in his shy smile.

“I added all your favorites—Clairo, The Japanese House, Adrienne Lenker.” He tapped the case in your hands, and his timid grin made way for a little pride to shine through, “I even drew a little portrait of you for the cover.”

You couldn’t stop looking at Riki. You were consumed by the thought of him going through the effort of buying the blank CD and jewel case, curating the playlist, downloading the songs, burning them into the disc, and making a custom cover—a hand-drawn portrait of you.

And then it hit you, all in one go.

Oh.

I’m stupid.

All those shows he watched, those hobbies he tried, those songs he listened to—all those interests he wouldn’t have been within a 10-foot radius of if it wasn’t for you;

He wasn’t copying you.

Riki did all that for you.

To say that he tugged at your heartstrings would be the understatement of the century—he straight up yanked at them. You only realized then that Riki had your heart in the gentlest of  chokeholds, and you wished he’d never let go.

Thwack.

A flick to your forehead.

…Okay maybe you did wish he’d let go, just this once.

You rubbed the spot Riki struck as you stared daggers into him, “WHAT THE HELL MAN?”

“WHAT??? You were zoned out for ages,” Riki laughed, “had to make sure you were still alive.”

You shook your head and scoffed before your eyes landed on the jewel case in your hand, another wave of silence—this time bubbling with tension—washing over the both of you.

You hesitated for a moment, but for once everything was clear to you—how you feel, what you should do.

So you threw all caution to the wind and rested your head on Riki’s shoulder, a quiet “thanks” making its way past your lips.

Though you might’ve not seen it,  Riki bit back a smile in hopes that it would quell the pounding in his chest. Slowly, he reached for your hand and gently intertwined your fingers together.

Riki’s voice was barely above a whisper, it was only for you to hear the smile in his words.

“Took you long enough.”

[morlock-holmes]

Towards a Unified Theory of Conspiracy Crank Politics

I've been thinking a lot about what seems to drive the person I will call, for lack of a better term, the conspiracy crank world-view, and particularly, my feelings about the great crank realignment.

A lot of people have said, "It seems like 30 years ago conspiracy weirdos were pretty bipartisan people, but now they all seem to be Trump loyalists."

My belief is that it's not that the conspiracy cranks became more right-wing; rather, it's that the Republicans have largely stopped being a right-wing party and are instead now a conspiracy crank party.

So, I've said this before, and I'm not well enough read in the history of conspiracy thinking to bring up old examples, but as a kid I subscribed to Skeptical Enquirer, and I remember quickly coming to two conclusions:

The reason a lot of the alien conspiracy X Files stuff is so interesting in fiction is that talented fiction writers have used it as a jumping off point to make an interesting story; the primary conspiracy literature is often very poorly written, not very inventive, and frequently openly bigoted, which leads into my second discovery,

A lot of times there is only one degree of seperation between "Big pharma and modern living has severed our spiritual connection to our earth mother Gaia" and "The Jews run the world with the aim of keeping the white race enslaved". Like, the far right conspiracy people were often really willing to ally with and break bread with the far left conspiracy people, and vice versa, in fact much more so then the more grounded parts of the left and right.

And I think that's because the conspiracy theorists have a kind of common mindset with certain shared features, regardless of the specifics of their conspiracy.

These are things that I have noticed as commonalities, and they aren't limited to conspiracy cranks; in fact, probably the vast majority of people have these habits of thought to some extent. My argument is that they are often abnormally strong in conspiracy believers.

Belief in a just world. A lot of fringe types have a really strong belief that the world is fundamentally just, and that in the ordinary course of things bad things do not happen to good people. Bad things only happen because a personified force arranged for the bad thing to happen. The example I've used before is slipping and falling off a ladder. Many of us would attribute such a thing to pure chance; some people will take it as evidence that a witch or a demon has cursed them.

An extreme difficulty with feeling out of control. It is hard for them to accept that in some circumstances they may not have control. Things which make them feel like they are no longer in control are very often interpreted as hostilities against them.

A severe difficulty in actually putting themselves in another person's shoes. Often, the conspiracy minded person is incredibly judgemental about others, and particularly, they really, really struggle with the idea that something might be easy for them, but difficult for someone else, or difficult for them, but necessary to help someone else.

Like I said, we all have these habits to some extent, I just think they are often magnified in the conspiracy crank.

As an example of what I mean by these thought patters, I am in the middle of a podcast reviewing a crank movie about how germs don't cause diseases. And apparently, in this movie, they first have a heroic interview with a restaurant owner who not only never required his patrons to wear masks, he actually banned any mask wearing on the premises.

Which is followed immediately by a scene of a person getting kicked out of a store for not masking, and talking about how it's incredibly shocking that what should be a matter of personal conscience is being enforced by the government.

And there's just no sense that there is any hypocrisy or tension here.

What I mean is, a principled libertarian might say, "Each individual business can require masks, or require you to take masks off, or have no policy, according to their individual decision, and we should allow them to make those decisions and abide by them."

Another principled position might be that we have extremely compelling evidence for the pandemic, and maybe certain kinds of policies should be temporarily enacted to slow the spread, even though they infringe on what would be, in ordinary times, important liberties, because they serve to protect the collective greater good.

Either of these positions sort of takes it for granted that a choice that I, personally, might not fully agree with might still be important to other people.

But the crank mindset says, "I don't want to wear a mask. So forcing people to wear a mask is an imposition on important freedoms. But since I'm already comfortable without a mask, forcing people to take their masks off isn't any kind of imposition on anybody's freedom, that's ridiculous."

You can see what I'm talking about most clearly in certain right-wing Christians. I've seen Christians say that freedom is exactly the same as following God's will, and that disobedience to God is a form of bondage and slavery.

These habits of mind are not, themselves, partisan; the can be applied to any cause, right-wing or left-wing. I might just have easily brought up "Free speech doesn't mean tolerating hate speech."

But I would argue that the reverse is not true, that you can build a political party that caters primarily to people with these habits of mind.

These people tend to flock to politicians who simultaneously promise a strong government which they can borrow to reassert their sense of control in the world, but the actual specific politics of that government are squishy and malleable.

The government has to be strong and able to domineer others because the conspiracy crank understands that they are in opposition to some large portion of the population, and so the government has to be strong enough to say, for example, "We will make sure that no private business will kick you out for wearing a mask."

When the world feels out of control, the government will lend you the tools to reassert your control over the world around you.

But the actual political goals of the government have to be extremely vague and malleable, so that they can move quickly to maintain the illusion that good people don't ever really disagree about this stuff.

A government which is coherently committed to a libertarian project might well say, "Sorry, those businesses have every right to decide who they cater to."

You have to be a weathervane, once a majority of cranks decide that vaccines and mask mandates are bad, you have to swivel and take that position in order to maintain a sort of illusion that whatever freedoms your crank audience wants in the moment are inherently sensible and that no sane person could disagree.

My argument is that Trump has turned the Republicans into the crank party, the party that signals to cranks that it will have their backs, whereas thirty years ago, the parties were still committed enough to coherent political goals that neither one could make that promise, and so cranks had to be politically idiosyncratic.

[knight-of-flowerss]

Omg sweet blue collar mechanic cregan and his like kinda stuck up spoilt girlfriend reader would be >>>

their dynamic would be so cute her pouting and needing his help all the time and him just being her lap dog

OH MY GOD YOU ARE SO SMARTTTT and yes 100% he would do ANYTHING!!! He's like a big puppy dog but looks like he could batter u 😭

Mechanic!Cregan Stark x Stuck up!Reader

MDNI 18+!!!!

MASTERLIST

🔧•Working at a chop shop was something Cregan didn't think he'd be doing at twenty seven.

🔧•I mean, he's done a ton of illegal shit, of course he has. He literally used to work for the Targaryen's.

🔧•Crime is all Cregan ever knew. By the time he was 15, both his parents had tragically died and he was stuck with his uncle. Unfortunately, his uncle was abusive and cruel, leading Cregan to run away from home.

🔧•That's how he found himself tangled in the Targaryen crime family. He had went to school with some not so friendly people up north that got him in contact with a certain someone down south.

🔧•Aegon Targaryen was Cregan's age, just a few months younger. He had started the whole 'empire' by just being a teen addicted to drugs, but with his wealth, he managed to buy out suppliers and warehouses and he slowly became the biggest supplier of snout, green, ket. Anything you can think of, he supplies.

🔧•Aegon helped Cregan get on his feet at seventeen years old, giving him a job at the mechanic's that he owned, a secret chop shop while also being a front for money laundering. In Aegon's eyes, he killed two birds with one stone.

🔧•And there, Cregan got good at what he did. Learning under Harwin Strong, he knew how to do anything and everything on cars. And Harwin didn't just teach him how to fix cars.

🔧•On breaks, Harwin would teach Cregan how to fight. Cregan had a slight idea on how to fight, he had to defend himself against his uncle a few times but that was the only thing he was good at, defense. Harwin decided to teach Cregan offence.

🔧•You're probably thinking, why? Why would Harwin teach Cregan to fight? Well, being involved in drugs and crime, you need to know how to defend yourself. Especially since the people from Essos and Skagos have started to integrate into Westeros, bringing their own threats with them.

🔧•Cregan's done it all, seen it all, heard it all. Being the muscle of the operation, he's been through it all.

🔧•But it's died down now, he's thrown himself into more of his work at the chop shop, and that's where he met you.

🔧•A Porsche had been stolen by Luke and Joffrey and brought to the shop. That was their job, stealing. Being only ten and fourteen, they went under the police radar so they could get their slippery hands on anything, including your Porsche.

🔧•You were distraught, on the verge on calling the police when your friend Baela stopped you, begged you not to. She admitted that it was probably her boyfriend's younger brothers who stole it and it would be at the shop.

🔧•Next thing you know you're storming down to the shop in your red bottomed heels and tiny dress in the roughest part of Kingslanding.

🔧•"Oh my gods!" You shout as you walk to the shop, seeing your once gorgeous Porsche getting ripped apart for pieces. Cregan, who was in the middle of taking the bumper off, turns around to see who shouted.

🔧•He's met with the sight of you, purse in one hand and phone in the other staring in horror as he destroys your car. You storm towards him, your heels clicking furiously on the concrete.

🔧•He stands up, towering high over you as you cross your arms. "What the actual fuck do you think you're doing?!"

🔧•Cregan just stares at you, eyes widened just slightly, his mouth parted just barely, as if he was mute. "Hello?! Are you fucking deaf?!" You shout in his face.

🔧•He just shakes his head, never tearing his eyes off of you. In all his years, he'd never been silenced by a pretty girl.

🔧•Cregan didn't know how it happened. One moment, he's zoned out as you scream in his face about the car, your car that he's tearing up. And the next.. the next he's 'repaying' you with his cock in the backseat of your torn up Porsche.

🔧•Your head is lulled out of the backseat window, your tits spilling over too as he fucks you from behind.

🔧•Cregan's cheek smushes up against your spine, his brows furrowed and eyes closed. He couldn't help but enter that stage of dumbness that he was in before, soft groans leaving his lips.

🔧•His heavy balls smacks against your puffy lips, his pubic hair catching lightly against your clit each time. He's lucky Harwin wasn't in today, or else Cregan would be getting a right telling off in the office right now.

🔧•But now, he lets himself indulge in your sweet cunt, the squelching making his cock twitch each time he hears it.

🔧•His hands move forward, yanking you in the car some more. Your nipples catch against the little nook of where the window is currently winded down and a whine rips itself from your lips.

🔧•Cregan's hands reach to paw at your tits. Typical rich girl, tiny little tits but a big attitude. But he didn't mind, in fact, Cregan was a dirty fucking pervert for small tits. He doesn't know what it is but they drive him fucking feral.

🔧•After your little.. fiasco.. he finally speaks, his thick northern accent making your legs buckle, and not just because you'd been fucked within an inch of your life.

🔧•He told you his name and even offered to get Lucerys and Joffrey to steal another car for you, any brand you wanted. Of course, you declined, you don't fuck with second hand shit.

🔧•No one truly knows how it happens, not even Cregan himself, but you had begun to stick around. No labels, of course, but he was yours. Everyone knew it.

🔧•Cregan didn't really know what to do with himself. He had beaten guys to a pulp and murdered people who deserved it. He'd done drugs and even sold them to kids. But he still didn't know why he was so.. well.. submissive around you.

🔧•He wasn't submissive per se.. he just let you do the talking while his hand stayed on your hip.

🔧•He couldn't afford the latest Channel bag or the new PRADA heel, but he could fuck you. He could fuck you and make you feel like a fucking goddess.

🔧•Even if he couldn't supply you with the items that fill your wardrobe, he treat you the way you deserved. Well, a lot would say you didn't deserve it, but Cregan would just bury his head in between your thighs to silence any thought you had of their harsh words.

🔧•Basically, what I'm saying it that Cregan is a sheep in wolf's clothing and you, the reader, are a wolf in sheep's clothing. But he fucking loves you.

🔧•He's literally the boyfriend that would take care of you even if he's tired, he's still willing to fuck his pillow princess into the mattress, not letting her lift a finger, as if she ever would.

🔧•He's a perfect boyfriend and I would write more but I need to post something so 🧍‍♀️

I definitely wanna write more about Mechanic!Cregan but I just had to get something out before I go to Kurtis Conner tomorrow lmao 😭

Tags: @thethreeeyed-raven @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom @cryinonthefloor553 @visenyablackwood

[kortac-sweetheart]

i have a hard time saying pet names irl because i feel like my accent makes it sound funny but i loveeee using them over text

projecting it onto simon right now 📡📡📡

he thought he did something wrong at first, you always call him “honey” or “baby” or “darling” or— you get it, over text. practically half of your vocabulary when you text him is a petname, but the moment he gets you on a call he’s always “simon” or “si” to you and it drives him downright insane.

did he forget to turn off the stove before leaving? forget to close the fridge door? forgot your anniversary— like hell he’d do that! so what was it?

he’s stuck between a rock and a hard place here. you don’t look like you’re mad at him (not like you’re ever really mad at him), and he’d rather pull out his own teeth than ask you about it so he’s just suffering in silence, not able to hear you say all those sweet pet names in person.

but it gets to a point, a man could only take so much before he breaks. he asks you about it over text, yes, not in person he has his limits.

ok! i’ll see you soon honey!! (❁´▽`❁) love youuuuu

wait. lovie, i have to ask you something

? yes baby?

why do you never call me pet names in person?

it takes you a little bit to respond, the three bubbles popping up and disappearing over and over. it makes him anxious, god— him. simon riley, who can stare down death itself without even flinching but is now anxiously awaiting his partner’s response to his question about pet names of all things.

what have you done to him? (you are the greatest thing that happened to him.)

the little ding! snaps him out of his anxious ruminating.

haha well i guess it’s just

i think my accent makes it sound weird 😭😭

oh. so that’s what it was. well— that can’t fly anymore, not that he knows about it now. he calls you immediately, of course, desperate to hear you call him something sweet finally.

he’d get on his knees (even if you couldn’t see him) and beg for you to call him anything you desired, anything please— just let him hear you.

“sim—“ you try and start, a little startled at the sudden call.

“none o’ tha lovie, call me something else— please.”

“but i think it’d sound weird—“ he’d do anything to prove you otherwise, anything at all.

“no! no— you won’t you’ll sound great, lemme hear ya dove, please.” he’s never sounded this desperate before.

“ok! ok, fine! simon, bubby, my honey, my dearest… uhm… my love, my darling…ba— baby… …okimdoneloveyoubye!!!”

there’s a very uncharacteristic lovestruck look on his face when you hang up. you sounded absolutely lovely to him. he could die a happy, happy man after that.

you sounded amazing lovie ❤️

wow. simon actually sent an emoji? he’s dead serious about it, huh? wild. but a man in love is a changed one as they say.

really? (๑º ﾛ º๑)

you’re so cute to him. downright adorable actually. he wants to hear you call him all those sweet things for the rest of his life. he needs to get you a ring asap.

yes lovie, really.

would i ever lie to you?

call me all those things when you see me in person, ok? love you. see you soon.

!!!!!!yay!!!!!!!

ok love you baby!!!!!! see you later!!!! (ɔ ˘⌣˘)˘⌣˘ c)♡

super cute indeed. (he’s going to the local jeweler’s after work.)

[emotionalmessss]

Feelings: Sukuna Headcanon

A/N: here's a little headcanon for Sukuna, because I haven't written for him in forever lol. Basically, Sukuna develops a crush on Yuji's friend. Idk, this was stuck in my head for a while so why not. And I love somewhat soft Sukuna. Unedited and not beta read, sorry for any mistakes!

Warnings: violence, mention of blood, emotional and psychological abuse, some non-con elements (mostly touching and shit), unhealthy relationships. Sukuna is kinda soft-ish, but still a fucking sadistic prick.

Never in a million years would Sukuna imagine developing a fucking crush on you. He doesn’t care (except for himself and Uraume). He doesn’t love. He doesn’t have feelings. And he definitely doesn’t waste his time on insignificant humans. Especially human sorcerers who happen to be friends with that brat Yuji. Why waste his precious time on lesser beings? 

Sukuna tells himself it’s just boredom. That’s all it is. Being trapped inside Yuji’s body is tedious—and borderline demeaning for someone like the King of Curses—so why wouldn’t he amuse himself with you? You’re around Yuji often, constantly lingering around that brat like an insect that just won’t die. 

Not that Sukuna would ever admit it, but he finds you the least annoying out of Yuji’s friends. Tormenting Yuji and his friends has always been one of the many ways Sukuna entertains himself. But it became even more enjoyable when you came along. Of course, Sukuna would be his usual self. He’d mock, taunt, threaten, and laugh at you. Because why not? It’s fun. 

Sukuna thrives off the fear and chaos he causes. And most of the time, just his name alone is enough to have sorcerers and curses fearing for their lives. You’re no different. 

Except, there is something about you that is different. Sukuna’s been watching you from the very beginning—from the moment you popped into Yuji’s life. Probably debating whether or not he should kill you or toy with you, probably both. Or maybe use you against Yuji? He especially enjoys needling Yuji about you. It’s just too easy to get under that brat’s skin.

“How’s your little pet today, brat? Still breathing?” Sukuna’s voice slithers through Yuji’s mind, condescending and intrusive. It’s not really a question because he already knows the answer. He’s been watching the whole time. As much as he despises watching Yuji fumble around you like a pathetic, horny teenager, there’s really nothing he can do about it.

“Shut up.” Yuji groans back, squeezing his eyes shut and rubbing his temples. As if that would deter the curse living inside him to fuck off. It won’t.

Whatever the reason is, Sukuna spends a lot of time watching you, more than anyone else. 

Sukuna calls you pet names, and they’re almost always mocking. Little thing. Pet. Brat. He’s such a dick. He refuses to call you by your actual name unless it’s to make a point. And when he does? It’s slow, deliberate—like he’s savoring the way it sounds.

Of course, Sukuna wouldn’t be Sukuna if he didn’t take control of Yuji’s body at the worst possible times. When he does manage to manifest temporarily, he makes sure it’s whenever you’re around.

“Studying hard, are we?” The voice that suddenly slips from Yuji's lips is nothing like his. It's lower. Rougher. Coated in mockery and fucked up amusement. It's almost laughable—almost—how oblivious you are, so absorbed in whatever pointless little textbook you've got your nose buried in. “What a good little sorcerer you are.” The words drip from his smirking mouth like poison, sweet and condescending, meant to belittle, meant to sting.

Sprawled across the floor, you freeze instantly, the textbook you were reading just moments ago suddenly slips from your trembling grasp and lands with a soft thud.

Sukuna doesn’t sit up immediately, content with just watching you from Yuji’s reclined position. He lounges in the brat’s body like it’s his throne, sprawled lazily across the dorm bed, one arm slung behind his head, the other resting carelessly along his stomach. His eyes—Yuji's eyes, but not—are half-lidded and dark as he examines you up close for the first time.

For Sukuna, it’s almost fun to appear unexpectedly. There's something so delicious about the way your whole body tenses, the way your pretty eyes widen the second you realize it's him. He will never admit it, of course, but he adores your reactions when he manifests. No warning, no build up—just that subtle shift in posture, the change in voice. Being confined to his vessel's body is tiresome, infuriating, and beneath him. So when he gets the chance to claw his way to the surface, even for a moment, he takes it.

It's not always about violence—though the temptation is always there, testing his control. He could easily grab you and slam you against the wall. Would you scream? Probably. Would you fight? Absolutely—but not well enough. He could almost feel you struggling in his arms, your body twisting and squirming as he pins you down with ease. He could almost hear your pretty voice crack as you scream and beg.

But with you… it's more complicated. With you, he’s more restrained. Killing you would be too quick and easy. No. He’ll take his time with you, making sure he enjoys every second. He doesn't hurt you when he takes control. Not much, at least.

But at some point, things started to change. He started noticing too much, watching you too much, thinking about you too much, looking forward to seeing you too much. It’s infuriating and confusing. Why does he find himself actually paying attention when you speak? Why does he get nervous when you’re on an assignment? Why doesn’t he just kill you and be done with it? He’s had multiple opportunities. And why does his chest burn when Yuji flirts with you? 

And that’s when the frustration sets in. Sukuna despises this unfamiliar feeling.

Honestly, Sukuna isn’t stupid. He knows exactly what he’s feeling, he just refuses to acknowledge it.

In the end, I highly doubt Sukuna would ever admit to having feelings for you, nor would he change his behaviour too much. Don’t expect him to be all mushy and shit. That’s just not his style. But there would be some signs…. 

The signs would be subtle. The last thing he—and his pride—needs is people thinking he’s gone fucking soft. 

He gets quiet when you're speaking. Not out of politeness—he just wants to listen. He'll go silent inside Yuji's head, letting your voice wash over him. He memorizes your cadence, the words you use, the way your voice changes when you talk to other people. And when you talk to Yuji? He listens too closely.

Sukuna started watching you much more often. He finds himself paying extra attention whenever you’re around Yuji, and actually listening when you speak. For once, he’s not thinking about killing or toying with you—he’s just….observing you.

He notices everything about you. The way your nose scrunches adorably when you smile, the way your laughter makes his stomach twist in an unfamiliar way—he remembers every little detail about you, and he hates himself for it.

Whenever you’re on missions or assignments, Sukuna watches you even closer, especially whenever you’re around other curses. Again, he chalks it up to just being boredom, considering he’s stuck inside Yuji and all. But in reality? He doesn’t want you to get hurt. He doesn’t want anyone else touching you, or even coming near you. Just the thought of it makes him livid—not because someone threatened a weak sorcerer. But because they threatened you.

There was one time where you did get injured by another curse on an assignment, and Sukuna lost all composure.

Sukuna rarely steps in, even when Yuji is in danger, preferring to sit back and watch the sufferings of others. He’s selfish. Stepping in to save someone doesn’t serve his purposes. He doesn't protect people—ever. But the moment you were injured, the line was crossed. He forcibly manifested, motivated more than ever to gain control. The curse that attacked you doesn’t stand a chance against him. He’s more unhinged than usual. He doesn’t torture the curse for his own sadistic enjoyment—not this time. Instead, he barely wastes any time ripping it apart and then checking on you. 

“Pathetic.” He sneers down at your crumpled form, not bothering to wipe the blood off his scowling face. It’s difficult to tell if the insult is meant for you or for the curse he just sliced in half. Still, his tone is considerably less….biting than usual. 

Languidly, he crouches beside you, eyes roaming your body with detached curiosity. But something flickers in his crimson gaze—brief, almost undetectable. But it’s there. Concern? Rage? Whatever it is, it makes his glare falter, and his scowl deepen.

“Hurt, brat?” The taunting pet name rolls off his tongue, softer than he would've liked. His gaze shifts between your face and the gash along your side, silently assessing the damage while trying—and failing—to appear indifferent. Like the fact that you’re actively bleeding out doesn’t concern him in the slightest. But the sight does bother him. Deeply.

A low sound rumbles in his throat as he suddenly scoops you into his arms—a growl caught somewhere between annoyance and... something else. Frustration? Worry? Who fucking knows. “If you die from something this trivial, I’ll be disappointed.”

Sukuna doesn’t stop taking control of Yuji when you’re around. But when he first started feeling something deeper for you, he wasn’t around as much. It’s odd, especially since he’s always sought to control Yuji, and has been known to appear at random times. He’s probably been stewing somewhere in his domain, sitting on the mountain of bones as he tries to figure out what the fuck is wrong with him. He’s not fully manifesting, not always. But his presence is there, lurking.

When he takes control of Yuji, he doesn’t threaten or intimidate you outright like he did before. No. Instead, he’s just kinda… there. Almost like he enjoys just being near you. Still, he doesn’t completely stop messing with you—he’s got a reputation to uphold, after all. His threats become empty, more like teasing. More like taunts.

“Keep talking like that, and I'll carve that pretty mouth of yours shut.”

“Am I interrupting something important?” He drawls mockingly, tilting his head and flicking his nails as he tries to appear uninterested. Like whatever you were doing wasn’t even worth his time or energy. “You looked so focused, brat. So serious. And now you look like you’re about to piss yourself.” 

He starts to manipulate Yuji's sleeping patterns, taking control in the dead of night just to watch you sleep. Why? He himself doesn’t even know why. Maybe it's the way you look so unaware. So peaceful. Unlike the pure terror you display when he’s around when you’re awake.

Not that you could notice, but Sukuna doesn’t taunt Yuji about you as much. Not like he used to. The smug remarks, the crude innuendos, the threats laced with amusement—they've slowed, thinned out, almost like he's holding them back. Almost like it's not funny anymore. Because every time he sees Yuji laugh with you, or hears you say his name with that stupid softness in your voice, it sparks something ugly in him. Something terrifyingly possessive.He doesn't want to talk about you—or even think about you for that matter. Not to Yuji. Not when it means acknowledging that you spend more time with that pathetic brat than you ever will with him. So instead of mockery, there's silence. Cold, simmering silence. And if Yuji ever notices the shift, he's smart enough not to say a word.

[buckybarnesslutshop]

Saturday Morning

Bucky Barnes x Reader

NSFW: Minors DNI- Blocking is on sight

CWs: Smut, NSFW, sex, crawling, rules, sub/dom and BDSM dynamics, Dom!Bucky, Sub!Reader, power dynamics; Daddy and Sir titles for Bucky; Good Girl, Slut, Whore, Doll, Princess, pretty girl, baby for Reader; reader is AFAB and she/her is used for reader; slight marking, oral f!receiving, fingering, squirting, praise and degradation, begging, slight edging, overstimulstion, squirting, themes of dumbification and humiliation, slight aftercare (bc round 2 baby), Bucky switching from rough to sweet, needy reader, loud reader, alluded round 2, Bucky being a bit of a little shit (in a good way), but so is reader

A/N: so this is the ✨ first ✨ fic lol. i wrote this when i had no connection in the countryside in notes app with no idea what I was writing ahead of time, so please excuse that. Somewhat proofread, I’ve got bad eyes don’t yell at me. Anyways welcome to the page lol. As you can tell, I was horny when writing this. Have a good week/weekend!

-S 🌻

——————————————————————

On the weekends, well, when Bucky wasn’t away on a mission and there were no set plans, sometimes the two of you would do what you called a “detox from life.” Sort of like a digital detox, where the goal is to avoid using social media, the goal of these special weekends was to separate from the outside world for a short time. A way to disengage with worries, to find solace in just each other. Sometimes, they lasted one day. Others started on Friday when you came home from work and ended Sunday evening. Either way, the dynamic was always set. Bucky was in charge, with full decision making power, and you behaved for him. Mostly, anyways.

This weekend was one of those instances. Recently, work had become rather overbearing. Bucky felt similarly: last week’s mission left him with piles of paperwork and a migraine that got bigger every time Sam commented on everything that had gone wrong.

So Bucky sent a message to Sam and let him know you both would be “away” for the weekend. Whether Sam had any idea of what that actually meant, he didn’t know nor care.

See, on these days, there were a few rules:

1. Always listen to what you’re told

2. You have to ask for what you want

3. Brats get punished

4. Bucky is no longer Bucky, he is Sir or Daddy unless a safe word is called or if aftercare is happening

5. A safe word must always be called if either you or him become uncomfortable

Oh, and rule 6: good girls don’t wear clothing, of course, unless Bucky says so.

That last rule often meant that Bucky would tell you to bend over the sofa, the counter, the bed, or anything else, just so he could get a view of your ass and pussy. Occasionally, he’d sit and just lightly toy with your cunt, seeing how wet you already were and were becoming. “Such a wet slut, doll. All for me, huh?” And you’d whimper back, “All for you, Daddy.”

Often times too, he made you crawl, like today. As they say across the kink community, a sub who can only think about behaving is a sub not worrying about anything else. And yeah, your knees would hurt eventually, and the embarrassment permanently tinted your cheeks red, and the look in your eyes when you looked up at Bucky was just oh so deliciously pathetic, but the submission was what you both wanted needed.

As you crawled from the bedroom to the living room: stark naked and dripping, mind you, you could see Bucky sitting on the couch. When he saw you, his eyes darkened, but he stayed silent. Upon crawling to him, and nudging his legs open, he complied. Sitting between them, arms on his calves, you nuzzle into his left thigh, looking up at him with pleading eyes.

“What do you want, pretty girl?”

But you’ve never been good at asking, so instead you whine frustratedly and pout slightly, eyebrows furrowing.

“You have to ask, you know the rules.”

You shift uncomfortably, asking has always made you nervous, and it’s taken you a long time with Buck to even get this far.

“I… Just. I just. I need… you. Want you.”

Bucky coos, taking his hand to your hair, gently playing with it and petting on you. “Try one more time for me baby, gotta ask real good and proper. What do you want? A hug? A kiss? Or is it something else?”

You whine loudly, laying your head down for a minute against his thigh. You huff, well aware he can feel it. You look up again, adopting your prettiest begging eyes. And oh Bucky loved to hear you beg. “Please Daddy? Need you to make me feel good, want your cock and your fingers and everything.”

Bucky only smirks, and grabs your chin with his metal arm. His thumb tugs your lip down, and he presses it into your mouth. Your mind goes hazy in an instant, sucking with no real hesitance. “Of course I can, baby. Daddy will take care of you, fuck you real good. You just wanna be taken care of, to not have to think, hm?” You nod, your mind a bit off into another land but still understanding.

“Let’s go to the bedroom then baby. Come on.” He pulls his thumb out, standing up. You’re reminded then that you can’t stand, not unless he says so, so you have to crawl along with him. He walks slowly with you, relishing in the silence that he knows is driving your humiliation further. You’re aware of his attention on you. Once there, he opens the door, letting you both in, and shutting it behind you. You wait for instruction.

“Stand up princess.” You do, legs a bit wobbly and achey. He catches you when you stumble, letting you steady as he kisses your forehead. “Let me make you feel good, ok?” He kisses you gently, starting off softly. He always does when your legs are sore and achey. Almost like he’s kissing the pain out of your body.

Soon enough though, he pushes you until your back is against the bedroom door, and begins devouring you through kisses. His tongue dances in, rendering you absolutely breathless and submitting to him. He pulls back, peppering kisses along your jaw in the spots he has come to know are OH so sensitive. He bites softly at the base of your neck in one of those spots, eliciting a moan from you, sucking hard to mark that spot on your skin for the hundredth time.

Once satisfied, he runs his tongue over it, gives it a kiss, and moves down to your breasts, taking your left nipple in his mouth to just tease you some. Your whimpers grow, and the steadiness you found in your legs begins to be lost again. By the time he is done with both nipples, you’re barely holding up, clutching on to him as much as you can. He stands, puts his hands on your hips, and pulls you slightly from the door. “Jump.” And you do,

jumping so that your legs straddle his hips as Bucky lifts you to help. Your bare cunt is almost too close to his clothed, hard, cock, and kisses you again, seemingly more feverish than before.

Suddenly, your back hits the bed, and you realize he’s taken you over. He just stares for a moment, raking his eyes down your body, across your breasts, looking in your eyes. You squirm, feeling pent up and a bit embarrassed at his gaze. The clear difference in you being naked and him still in his sweats and t-shirt marks it even clearer who is in charge here: and it’s not you. He crawls on top, kissing down your neck again, before grabbing you by the hips to push you further up the bed, aligning your cunt with his face.

He dramatically inhales, groaning lowly at your scent. He never wants to be away from the smell of you, so always relishes in any moment he gets to smell your freshly soaked cunt. Besides, it always earns a small squeak of embarrassment from you, and releases another gush of arousal. He starts, then, with light licks at your clit, before growing more sloppy and obsessed with eating you out like he never will again. The wet sounds of his mouth almost fade into the background over your whimpers and moans.

“Fuck, daddy please-“ the begging already beginning, for who knows what.

“What princess? What do you want?” he says, in the low gravely voice you love.

“Please- Please please please” and you’re already drunk on him. “Please I wanna cum!” He pulls away, gaining another whine from you. Luckily, he thrusts a finger in suddenly, before quickly adding a second. You’re already soaked, and the sound it makes as he thrusts his thick fingers in is borderline heinous. “Just listen to that pretty pussy baby, listen to how much she loves stretching out for me.”

You cry out, his thick fingers always managing to make you feel full. He quickly finds the same spot that has your legs shaking, and a choked moan escapes you. You whine and moan, all words becoming some variation of “please daddy!” and “can I cum?”

“Go ahead doll, cum all over my fingers, soak me nice and good baby,” he says, and your legs begin to shake as Bucky has to place his other hand on your hip to keep you still enough. His thrusts continue as you ride out your orgasm, trying to catch your breath, and he stills.

Fingers still in you, he leans up, gently kissing you. “Feelin ok love?” He asks. You nod, and tell him you’re ok. His look of care turns into a bit of a smirk, but you barely notice. He stays somewhat straddled over you, adjusting so he can start thrusting again.

The immediate reaction he gets out of you is delicious. You’re almost yelling your moans. “Fuck fuck- Buck, sensitive! Sensitive oh my god-“ and he cuts you of with a slap to your thigh. “That’s not my name, slut. Or have you already forgotten? Daddy decides when you’re done, and you and I both know you have multiple more in you.”

“‘M sorry Daddy! I’m sorry” you sob out, feeling the rush of stimulation go to your head along with the degradation. The squelching becomes louder, almost deafening to you both. Bucky slows before adding a third finger. You cry out again, though the stretching feeling is all too welcome to you. A long string of curses come out, though somewhat incoherent.

“Please Sir! More. Need more, another finger please! Please Daddy!” Bucky slows slightly at this, as though he knows you enjoy feeling as full as can be, he knows you must be feeling particularly desperate to not even hesitate asking. He laughs, a sound almost jarring to you. Your eyes open to meet his blown-out dark ones.

“Oh doll, you’re such a good girl for me.” He pulls his fingers out. “SUCH a good-“ and four go in “-slut for me, askin for what you want. Askin to be full and stretched and fucked by my fingers.” You can barely think anymore, beginning to babble “please Daddy” and “thank you” and strings of cursed.

It’s then the feeling in your belly grows and you know all too well what is coming. Your cunt flutters and clenches down on Bucky’s fingers in a way he knows all too well, and thrusts just a bit harder to get you to your orgasm. “Cum for me baby, as soon as you’re there cum for me. You have permission.”

You nod, tears pricking in the corners of your eyes, but you still feel that slightly different feeling in your belly grow. You try to warn him of what’s coming, barely getting out “Daddy wait- wait gonna- it’s-“ Before a choked sob, or maybe a moan? Comes out and you cum, soaking Bucky’s hand in several spurts of squirt.

Upon seeing this, Bucky just grows more feral, a low growl being heard from him. He doesn’t stop, even when he’s sure you’ve rode out your orgasm.

Your eyes go wide as you realize he has no intent of stopping. “Daddy daddy wait- wait fuck! it’s! Daddy! Sensitive oh fuck-“

And Bucky shuts you up with another growl, “you’ll take what Daddy gives you. You’re cumming on my fingers again, and you’ll keep cumming until you squirt on my hand like a little whore again.” Your cunt clenches, and you whine.

“Aw, does someone like that? Does princess want me to fuck her stupid? Does my pretty girl want me to make her squirt like a slut?” And he keeps thrusting into that spot, all four fingers stretching you. The first tear falls, your mind completely gone. You can barely get the words out, mostly moaning and crying out, until there’s only the small warning of “fuck Daddy I-“ before you cum screaming. A large gush soaks Bucky’s hand as well as the sheets. Some even lands on his sweatpants and up his arm. He barely can contain himself enough to gently help you finish riding out your orgasm, a few sobs and tears coming out throughout the long high. His fingers come out of you with the characteristic squelch, and he grabs a wipe from the pack that sits on the nightstand during weekends like this.

“Doll? Are you ok?” He asks. You mumble something along the lines of a yes, legs still twitching and breathing slowing still. “Baby, I need words.” You whine, a quiet “Daddyyyyy” followed by a sigh and then “‘m ok. Feel good. Feel fuzzy.” You open your eyes slightly with a lopsided grin. He breaths out a sigh, kissing your forehead. He turns you a bit and lays next to you, spooning you and holding you close.

“That a bit intense doll?” He asks. “Nah, can handle it.” You say, the smile growing a bit wider.

“Oh, so you don’t want a break? Because I was going to be nice and let your pretty pussy rest baby, but maybe not. Maybe Daddy will just shove his big fat cock in” he says, voice low and growlish. The grip he has on your hip grows tight.

You grind down on him, well aware of his hard cock that you can almost feel throbbing. Bucky lets out a guttural moan, before you turn your head to look at him and say “is that a promise?”

[ahavaas]

*sighs* i have other shit i gotta focus on. that said. i release this into the wild.

"You meant to protect Wei Ying," Hanguang-jun said.

Jiang Cheng considered the exits. Wangji was blocking the door, of course, but if he didn't mind sacrificing his dignity, he could head out the window; there was no reason to assume the Lan bastard could swim. His tolerance for any of Lan Wangji's judgemental contempt had never been high, but ever since Wei Wuxian had visited, a couple of months ago, and made it clear that Lan Wangji was aware of that -- shameless, insulting offer -- well. His best life would involve never interacting with Lan Wangji again; since that wasn't possible, given their respective stations, rigidly polite distance would've been acceptable. He couldn't think of a single reason for Lan Wangji to approach him privately.

Ignoring him completely might make him go away, Jiang Cheng thought, and gave it up as a bad job; he didn't have the time or the energy to wait him out.

"Why are you *here*," he said, instead. 

"(Town) requested help a few weeks ago," Lan Wangji said.  He hadn't started sneering at Jiang Cheng yet, which - was it a record? maybe? probably? "Inquiry was performed. It was necessary to call the spirit of a Wen captain."

One eyebrow raised a quarter of an inch, like Jiang Cheng was supposed to pick up on whatever the fuck Lan Wangji was talking about. When he gestured impatiently for him to get to the point, his lip twitched in - disgust? impatience, at least.

"He was part of the group that oversaw your...capture."

"They've all been dead for years," Jiang Cheng said, short. "Were you not able to suppress? I assume there's a reason you're here."

"What you did was...admirable."

++

"You want to die for Wei Wuxian?  Fine. That can be arranged," Jiang Cheng said, which was the sort of thing he'd break Jin Ling's legs for suggesting to the chief cultivator.  It was vitally - critically - important to ensure that Lan Wangji dropped this idea.

++

"This is a waste of time," Jiang Cheng said, flat, irritated. "I have shit to do - look, just," and went to his knees (?) to paw at Wei Wuxian's skirts (??)

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING," Wei Wuxian said, in a tone that was fairly calm and reasonable, considering the circumstances.

Jiang Cheng made a face (that he would've said, right up until about five minutes ago, that it was the face he made when he wasn't sure if he was the butt of a joke and was deciding how much of a tantrum to throw about it, but Wei Wuxian would've said very confidently that Jiang Cheng wasn't going to his knees for anyone without a fight, and look! that had turned out to be wrong!) and -- looked to Lan Zhan.

On his knees. Face close enough to Wei Wuxian's -- belt -- that he could've lifted his hand an inch and gotten a fistful of Jiang Cheng's hair, if he'd wanted to, which was neither here nor there, just an observation. And he looked to Lan Zhan.

His cheeks had gone red. Which made sense! Wei Wuxian had never noticed how stuffy this room was - it was hot, actually, really hot in here.

"Did you just want to see if I'd do it?" Jiang Cheng asked, like he knew the answer already.

"No," Lan Zhan said, even, a little urgent, and Wei Wuxian gave up on propriety and gave in to his own instincts. Jiang Cheng's hair tangled, rough and a little oily between his fingers, warm at the nape.

It stung, a little, to think about them having some kind of connection outside of him, but he'd been gone for a long time -- well! Best not to think about that! Best to focus on the problem at hand, which was "no no no, not a joke," Wei Wuxian said, and ran a soothing thumb across the nape of Jiang Cheng's neck, because whatever Lan Zhan had done to make this happen was something he'd back to the hilt.

Jiang Cheng's mouth twisted. So stubborn, so haughty! -but he didn't pull away.

thinking my pervert thoughts about zhanchengxian and how much of an absolute train wreck I think it would be (positive)

nah, these fuckers a) generally speaking do not communicate particularly well, b) have some real resentment built up that I do not think sex would necessarily fix, c) are not, even post-canon, really capable of being rational about each other.

considering a messy weird situationship where everyone is a little meaner than canon and coming into it from a slightly warped perspective:

wwx: yeah, Jiang Cheng has some feelings about the core thing and still might feel kind of abandoned (maybe? the most important thing is to never have an excruciating discussion about Our Feelings ever again). so to fix that, whenever we see him, we do this fun roleplay where I remind him he’s always going to belong to me and he gets treated like a toy. it’s hot and he’s into it; this is fine and should continue indefinitely.

lwj: fully seething but unable to deny my husband anything. if sect leader jiang is willing to do penance about the burial siege on his back that’s marginally acceptable (does it turn me on a little? yeah but in the way where I'm pissed off about it) the important thing is that he gets he’s not allowed to say no to anything wwx wants

Jc: as always wwx wants to have his cake and eat it too. fucking pathetic that I’m going along with it. fucking humiliating that lan wangji sees this shit. everything’s all in the past until wwx gets a hardon. it’s unfortunate that fucking the two of them is a politically smart move, particularly since I, like everyone else, have Moved On and am capable of handling this like a detached adult.

you know. hopefully you see the vision.

[sevgilimsatoru]

Error: 410 (Self Aware!AU Caleb Edition) Part 9

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Summary: A self aware!AU with Caleb and NonMC! reader.

Tags: Caleb x reader, Caleb x NonMC! reader, Caleb x fem!reader, fluff, angst (slightly) Stressedout!reader. Hypersexual!reader

Word count: 1k

Inspired by: @ittybittyfanblog

"Separated steps; that made this vow; We’ll walk together forever. Now we share this sorrow. wet eyes that used to peek through windows; are now trapped in this suffocation like this. breath is confused; mind is troubled; Why is this heartache happening, my love?"

You were sitting at your desk, working on a project. A study session is going on with Caleb. The scratching of your pen against the page, the sounds of keys clicking on your laptop vibrating through the room.

"Are you actually getting some work done, or are you just staring at me?" You asked, glancing up at Caleb. His cheek pressed against the back of his hand, looking at you with a smile on his face.

"Don't worry about me, sunshine. Just focus on yourself." He said, his eyes fixed on the necklace around your neck. You had brought yourself an exact replica of his necklace—it was merch, and you loved the look on his face when he first saw you wearing it.

"Oh, I'm focused. In fact, I'm almost finished with my work." You said, ending the study session. Leaning back in your chair, you sighed. You were just looking at him, admiring him, and it seemed like he was doing the same.

Until Caleb walked closer and closer to the screen, his hand pressing up against an invisible barrier. You reached out, putting your finger on the phone screen where the palm of his hand was.

"How could you just pretend that this doesn't bother you? Huh?" Caleb asked softly, his face twisting into a frustrated expression. He looked tired, his jaw clenched as his cold eyes stared into your own.

You couldn't act like it didn't bother you. The distance that was always going to be there between you two. The fact you could never reach out and feel his skin on yours. You were still trying to grapple with the realization, and it seemed like Caleb was done believing this idea.

"It does, but what could I even do? You are not a part of my world, and I'm not a part of yours… I've accepted it, you know? The fact that… this is all our relationship is going to be. I'm okay with it."

"Well, I'm not. I can't do this. I just—" Caleb said, letting out a shaky breath. His eyebrows were furrowed, a deep frown on his face, and you were sure his lower lip trembled slightly.

"How could you expect me to just sit here and wait, knowing that I won't be able to protect you if something happens?" What am I going to do if you get in trouble? I can't protect you from the other side of the screen."

"What if… one day, you just leave and never come back?" I wouldn't even know what happened... I would be left with buried memories of you. I…I can't lose you, sunshine." Caleb said, his voice cracking slightly at the ends.

"Caleb, I'll be fi-"

"Like hell, you would be fine. No one knows what is going to happen in the future. You can't promise me something that you aren't yourself aware of."

Your eyes flickered over his face. His words worried you, not for yourself but for him. "Caleb, is everything alright?" You muttered, leaning closer to your phone screen, pressing your forehead against it.

Caleb did the same, leaning in to press his forehead against the screen. He didn't reply. Your breathing was the only thing you could hear along with the faint background music of the game.

"I'm fine, sunshine. I couldn't help but be worried. I'm sorry if I scared you…" He said, keeping his eyes closed. Maybe then, he could pretend you were really there, beside him.

"It's alright…" You said, letting out a huff.

"Can I ask you for a favor, baby? It's a pretty big ask if I'm being honest."

"Of course, anything at all." You replied you weren't sure why you agreed… maybe because you just wanted him to feel better.

"Promise me that you will take care of yourself when I'm gone," Caleb said. You looked up to see his eyes were already on you.

Your eyes widened at his words. Did you hear him right? "What are you talking about…?"

"I'm going to try and find a way to you. I can't live like this… so close to you yet so far away. It'll kill me if I stay put any longer without you beside me. I can't wake up to an empty bed and dream of you beside me. I want to make that dream of myself for you… for us."

"And you are going to make that decision for me now?" You asked, the hopeful look on his face tugged on your heartstrings, but you just couldn't let him do this.

If you said yes, who knows if he'll actually ever find a way to you? You were fine with this as long as he was with you.

"Please… sunshine. You know that's not what I mean…"

"Of course, I do. But how long would that take you? Days, months, years… maybe our entire lifetime. You can't leave me like this—waiting for you like a dog." You said your words were sharp. You understood his intentions, but you couldn't agree with them.

"Sunshine… Don't you trust me?"

"Of course, I trust you. Have you even thought about the consequences of your actions in the world you live in?"

"Everything in your world might just get destroyed if you aren't there. Do you even care about that?"

"No, I don't. I don't care about what will happen. I'll do it. As long as it gets me to you…" Caleb said, leaning closer to the screen to caress your cheek. You instinctively leaned in even though you couldn't feel it.

"Trust me… I'll find my way to you even if it's the last thing I do. You'll wait for me. Won't you?" Caleb asked, looking at you. Trying to soak your presence in for maybe the last time.

"I'll wait for forever if I have to," you replied, giving him a crooked smile. Sniffling as tears filled your eyes. "I love you, you know…"

"I love you too."

"See you soon, sunshine. Take care of yourself, okay?" He said, giving you his signature smile.

You nodded in response. Watching the screen of your phone turn black. Your phone restarted, the phone screen lighting up.

Your fingers curled around the necklace around your neck, the coldness of the metal seeping into your warm fingers. You sat there in silence in your empty apartment.

Tag list: @beewilko @browneyedgirl22 @aneertawrites @etsuniiru @demon-master-zero @angstylittleb1tch @mcdepressed290 @ittybittyfanblog @winwinwrites @alifyairl @huhleighna @calebsbeanpeeler @bookworrm1999 @mentaltrouble2201 @noxus123 @babyx91 @multisstuff @beomluvrr @sunnylittleapple @lunia-likes-pomegranet @imhere2dosomething @lostpsycho13

[lynzishell]

A few days later...

Prev // Next

Transcript below the cut:

Asher: Iris? Iris: Hm?

Asher: Can I talk to you for a minute? Iris: Sure.

Asher: I need to ask that Ezra not come to the house anymore. Just while Atlas and I are living here. Iris: No. I live here too. You don’t get to dictate who I’m allowed to invite over.

Asher: That’s not what this is. I’m not trying to control you or tell you what you can or can’t do. But Atlas can’t be around him, and I need your help to make sure it doesn’t happen.

 Iris: This is ridiculous. If Atlas would just give him a chance, he’d see that Ezra’s not that person anymore. I mean, he was a brainwashed kid, for Christ’s sake. I don’t think it’s fair for him to be punished for that. Especially after everything he had to go through to break free of it. Otherwise, what’s the point? How can we expect people to learn and grow, to open their hearts and minds, if they’re just going to be defined by their mistakes forever?

Asher: I hear you; I do. Unfortunately, no amount of growth or remorse on Ezra’s part can undo the harm he caused. And it doesn’t cancel out the pain that Atlas suffered as a result of his actions. It doesn’t all go away just because he’s sorry.

Iris: I know, but…

Asher: Look, I’m not saying Ezra is a bad person, or that he doesn’t deserve a happy life. I’m not even saying you shouldn’t date him. If he’s good to you and he makes you happy, then I support that. But Atlas is family too, and we can’t turn our backs on him. I know you care about him, don’t you?

Iris: Yeah. Of course. I’ve always loved him like a brother.

Asher: Exactly. And he’s always been open and kind and forgiving, especially toward you, even when you didn’t deserve it.

Iris: [nods]

Asher: So, you and I both know he doesn’t hold grudges. That’s not what this is. He’s not trying to punish anyone. He’s hurting. And every time we minimize his feelings and his experience, and we force him to be around the person that hurt him, we’re basically re-traumatizing him. Do you see how fucked up that is? We’ve failed him. And it ends now.

Iris: Don’t you think it could be good for him, or like, healing, to talk to him though? To tell Ezra all this and get a sincere apology?

Asher: Maybe. Maybe one day. But he’s not ready to try that again, not after how things went last time. He may never be, I don’t know, but if there’s any chance of it, then the best thing we can do right now is to have some patience and compassion, to show him that we’re here for him no matter what. And the best thing Ezra can do right now, is respect his boundaries.

[A few days later]

Spencer: Mom! Is Ezra bringing Milo over today? I got him a present! Iris: What kind of present? Spencer: I got a really cute rainbow ball from the Simoleon Store.

Iris: I see. I’m sure he’ll love it. Spencer: So, can he bring him?

Iris: Actually, I have a better idea. We only have one more weekend before the pool closes for the season, so how about we bring Milo’s present to him, and then we can take Ezra swimming? Spencer: Okay! Iris: Go put your swimsuit on then. We leave in five minutes.

Atlas: Is he coming over later? Iris: No. He won’t be coming over anymore. Atlas: Really? Iris: [nods] He’s happy to talk whenever you’re ready, but until then, he’ll keep his distance. And, for what it’s worth, I’m… I’m sorry.

[kabr0ztrousers]

had a couple ideas, so feel free to use both, neither, or modify them however you see fit! both involve a cocky adventurer lady having a bad time while trying to solo a dungeon. idea 1: involves her body being invaded by slime creatures just curiously exploring all of her holes (and maybe deciding not to leave said holes) and idea 2: involves her getting trapped in the sticky goop of some giant slugs, and them doing whatever giant slugs would do to a completely immobilized, fertile, young woman!

thanks for taking the time to read this, love your work!! also could i be 🦨 anon? :3c

Kabr0z Writes episode 101: Dungeon Slime

Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes anthology here!

I have an AO3!

CWs: Dubcon; slime; suffocation; impregnation; uterine penetration; living clothing;

A/N: I actually got that AO3 account a little while back, but have literally no idea how that site works. Tumblr is still the first and foremost place to find my writing, but with recent outages it's never a bad idea to diversify!

#########################################

The tunnel smelled of old stone and piss. It wasn't actually piss, you knew that, the lichen clinging to the engraved walls just gives off ammonia. The ammonia, of course, smells of piss. You rubbed some away, the plant leaving a slick residue on your bracer as the engraving underneath was revealed to you. You were in the right place. The lost fortress of Urdimnish, Trade Tower.

You were here for a reason, of course, the Auric cell at the heart of the tower once kept an entire civilisation of magitech animunculi ticking. If it lived up to even half of the hype, the dwarves would pay a fortune for it. Enough to retire on and then some.

The gate was a simple enough mechanism, warded locks were state of the art when the city was built, easy pickings for any would-be adventurer. The real trick was finding your way through the labyrinthine tunnels carved through the mountain. Most of them weren't ever designed for anyone over about four feet tall, the ones that didn't require you to stoop were the palatial great halls and passages Dwarven architecture was known for.

You passed throne rooms and treasuries, hoards of silver and gold enough to purchase your wildest dreams. You filled a pocket or two, but you knew it's chicken feed compared to the real prize. Deeper and deeper you delved, through lifeless corridors. Nobody knew entirely what happened to the primordial dwarven culture that built this place. One day, it seemed they all decided to leave their burrows and fortifications, never to be seen again. Who knows, maybe someone will find some clue here through careful study of the engravings on the walls.

At last you reached the floor you wanted. The corridors were hot this deep, the bowels of the earth warming the smooth stone. Maybe that's why there's no lichen this deep? Your torch flickered in your hand, glinting off polished brass fixtures in the walls. The deeper you crept, the more copper and brass shone back at you, until you saw it. A glass ball, roughly the size of your head. Gold flecks swam in the crystal, chasing one another around the orb as you watched. This couldn't be anything but the Auric cell hidden here, at the deepest darkest pit of the long-lost fortress. Thick gloves protected your hands as you reached for it, the warmth of the cells surface radiating out as your fingers brushed the glass.

It wasn't glass. Your hands sunk into the surface of the cell as the surface slid over your arms, then up to your shoulders. You flinched back, but the orb came with you, receding in size as it covered you in a paper-thin film of hot, gold-tinged fluid. It reached your chest, sliding under your armour and over your tits before venturing down your belly, slipping over your suddenly all-to-exposed stomach. The glassy liquid flowed upwards too, you pressed your lips together as it covered them, sliding into your nostrils and over your eyes. Gold motes danced over your vision. Your head swum as your lungs burned. You needed to take a breath.

The glass lurched downwards, coating your clit in a hot sheen of fluid, sliding down to press at your hole. The sudden sensation made you gasp on reflex, sucking in a gobbet of the shiny liquid. It coated the inside of your mouth in moments, slipping down your throat as a tendril pushed its way into your cunt. The slime felt around your insides, pressing and prodding at your folds and inner walls, finding its way into every corner of you. The thin film started retreating from your sinuses, clearing your nose as more was redirected into your slick cunt.

You took a breath. You'd fallen, but mustn't have noticed when you landed, legs apart on the stone floor. The growing mass of fluid glass in your cunt was pulsing, getting larger and hotter. You groaned as it stretched you out, leaning back as your hips rolled back, opening you beneath your clothes to nobody in particular. The film over your clit shivered; a soft steady buzzing sending warmth through you in waves. More of the slick, firm substance caressed your nipples, sucking and squeezing at them as you felt them harden and stand on end.

The substance probed at your cervix. You gasped as it slid through the tight gap like water through a sieve, sliding around your womb. More and more of it piled into you, until it was all focused on your cunt. You lay down as your hands strayed to your tits, slipping under your linen top to caress the soft skin, fingers pinching at your nipples as the humming, buzzing slime filled you, shifting around inside as it got comfortable.

A sharp pain made you gasp, just a little cramp radiating from your now-swollen belly, drowned out by a wave of pleasure that flowed from your occupied belly. A groan escaped you as you lost yourself to the flow of relief, submerging into your orgasm like a warm bath. It was the best lover you'd ever had, clenching around smooth curves that conformed to your every fold and crevice. It vibrated inside you in gentle pulses, elongating your sighs and moans of release until at last you came back down.

The creature was still inside you, round and warm. You could still feel it, gently humming away in your womb, a bump filled out your silhouette, like an expectant mother.

You took up your abandoned torch and turned to leave.

There's no way you're giving this to the dwarves.

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This is another "absurdly late from yesterday" episode, so don't worry, you're still getting another one tonight 😉

Also, I have literally no idea if the CWs on this one are appropriate, or if there's stuff I should've put but didn't... Answers on a postcard I guess

[askoverkill]

Sorry if this question has already been asked before, but I just feel the need to know - since everything is practically bathed in the color red, does everyone just have a constant headache? Did they get headaches at first but just get used to the feeling over time? Or does the headache thing not exist here?

I'm absolutely loving this story so far, by the way!! :]

// I!!! Actually looked into this!!!! the game never says looking at the color red gives headaches! i was shocked!!!!

// with the open book Observatory, odile describes the color as "scary," "dangerous" and of course "visceral"

siffrin thinks this when discussing the color to loop:

(Somehow, that color made you think of blood and bodies and horrible things.)

i feel "it's painful to look at" would have been mentioned in either scene! so i personally believe:

the universe correcting itself over a wish -> painful, you forget it happened

the color red: a sign that a wish is breaking, could end the world itself, evokes dread. Remembered fully

THAT SAID i hope people still connect colors to headaches because its still a very funny gag