#oh I looove the long dark hair

[uni-vee]

[CN] Event: Ink Painter

Miracle Nikki is getting a debut Cloud event!

Event Format: Pull with diamonds, receive 3 types of currency to get items in order (same as stained glass event we had recently)

Suit: Smoke-Stained Dreams

Suit Details: Posed dress / new makeup / 4 movables

Cost: ~2000, will differ for everyone.

Time: 6 April — 12 April 2024

Additional Updates

> 4 Myths / Ancient Atlas is getting added to the Wish Gate!

>That makes 10 hell events in CN’s Wish Gate

[whitexwolfxx310]

|| What’s Your Favorite Scary Movie? ||

Pairing: Bucky x female reader

Summary: After accidentally revealing that you have a masked man kink, Bucky starts taking it to the next level.

Warnings: Smut- MDNI please!, oral sex (both ways!!), edging?, masturbation (F), praise kink, cursing, light stalking, breaking in, harassing texts/calls, and lots of angst.

Word Count: 4.3

A/Ns: Hi babes! This was going to be a short story but she came out kinda long, so I'm going to make it a 2 parter. Don't judge me 🙈 I looove masked men. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it. This is also my first time getting more explicit with smut so don't judge me too harshly! xoxo

Snuggled up to Bucky under a comfy blanket with a bowl of extra buttery and salty popcorn, lights turned all the way down, you finally convinced him to watch the movie Scream. While you’ve seen it many times before and are aware of all the jump scares, you still cling onto him a little extra tight in preparation while he is completely unphased. About halfway through the movie, you hear Bucky snort.

“What?” You ask, looking up at him slightly. His face is illuminated by the glow of the tv.

“Something you want to tell me, Doll?” One side of his mouth is tugged up in amusement.

“Bucky, what the fuck are you talking about?” Confused, you sit up to look at him.

He just shakes his head, grinning, “I’m talking about how every time a masked man comes on that screen,” he points to the tv, “you press those pretty little thighs of yours together.”

Your cheeks instantly flush, “You noticed that?”

“I pay attention to everything when it comes to my girl.” Bucky leans back more, resting his arm on top of the couch still grinning, “Tell me about it.” His eyes narrow slightly, something a bit darker lurking, intrigued by this knowledge.

“I don’t know… it’s just like,” you brush your hair behind your ears suddenly feeling embarrassed, “kind of like a kink? A fantasy maybe? There’s just something so dark and exhilarating about an unknown man behind a mask that stalks and is obsessed with you. The anonymity of it I guess?”

By the time you’re done explaining, your hands unknowingly gripped and crossed your chest. Blinking rapidly, you let go and focus back on Bucky who is just watching you intensely.

He nods and purses his lips lightly, “Maybe if I keep watching this movie, I’ll want a masked man for myself,” He teases.

“Oh, shut the fuck up!” You grab a fistful of popcorn and throw it at him, sending you both into a laughing frenzy.

"You're cleaning that up, not me." Bucky laughs.

Him and his messes.

He scoops you in close to his body to finish the movie, and later that night he showed you that no masked man from a movie could ever compare to him.

Three weeks later.

While trying to grab your phone and keys out of your bag, you accidentally drop the stack of mail you had just picked up from the landlord’s office on the doormat.

“Shit!” You mutter to yourself. Bending down to pick it up, something catches your eye. Your apartment door is cracked open.

You stand up, discarding the mail and push open the door, “Hello?” You call out, “Bucky?” There’s no response.

Taking a few steps in, nothing looks out of place or any evidence that someone seems to have broken in. You start going through each room, keeping your phone firmly in your hand just in case. But there’s nothing. Walking out of the bedroom you decide you’re going to call Bucky to see how far away he is since he was on his way over, when you find him standing in the kitchen.

“OH! Fuck me-” You jump at the sight of him and grab your chest.

“Hey, Doll!” Bucky says, like the perfect golden retriever boyfriend that he is.

“Did you just get here?” You ask, your heart still pounding.

“Yeah, why?” he asks curiously, absentmindedly grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl off the kitchen counter and taking a bite.

“Um, yeah me too. It’s just-”

“Just… what?” He takes another bite.

“It’s just that... my door was open when I got here?”

“What?” Bucky’s face instantly changes, his eyes wide and anxious, “Go wait in the hallway until I look around.”

“I already did that-”

“Please?” He pleads as he throws out his barely eaten apple, already coaxing you towards the door.

Crossing your arms, you go and wait in the hallway while he looks around. After a few minutes he brings you back in.

“Everything looks to be fine, but I’m going to stay the night just in case.” You breathe a sigh of relief at Bucky’s words.

“Maybe maintenance came in and forgot to lock back up. I was having all those issues with my heater a few months ago,” You try justifying.

“Yeah maybe,” he says, with a small shrug of his shoulders.

About a week later is when the phone calls started.

Initially it was just 1 or 2 a day from a restricted number that you never picked up, assuming it was some kind of solicitation about your car’s extended warranty. But no voicemail was ever left.

As a few weeks went by though, it started to feel like borderline harassment. The number of phone calls jumped to an average of twenty times a day.

Sitting at your work desk your phone continued to violently vibrate, the words Unknown Caller lit up on the screen. You ran your hands through your hair, letting them linger on your scalp, starting to feel stressed every time your phone rang.

"Hey babes!" Hailee, your coworker/bff storms unannounced into your office, "You ready to grab some lu- oh my god. Are they calling you right now?" Obviously aware of the situation, she scurries around your desk in her too high heels and answers your phone. Clearing her throat, "Hi, thank you for calling Tammy's Whorehouse where we suck and fuck. How can I help you?" She taps an inpatient finger on her hip, waiting for a response and then the line goes dead.

Your hands fall down into your lap with an exacerbated breath, "No one ever answers."

"Have you tried tracking the number?" She puts the phone down and sits on top of your desk.

"I've tried calling my cell service, they can't do anything about it. If it keeps up, I just might change my number." You shake your head, "This is going to sound so dumb, but it has me so distracted. Apparently, I've been forgetting to charge my phone at night too? I swear I put it on the charger but then it dies in the night and that's why I've been late to work a few times."

Hailee tilts her head to the side, giving a sympathetic frown. "Sorry, girl. Hey!" She tries perking up, "Why don't we go get lunch and iced coffees? My treat?!" Her bright smile and shimmying shoulders get you to crack a smile. Jumping off your desk she claps her hands, "Yay!"

Suddenly there's a knock at your office door. Both of you stop the mini-iced coffee celebration and snap your attention to the nervous, uniformed teenager standing in the doorway.

"Delivery." he says shyly, looking between the two of you.

Hailee raises an eyebrow and smirks, looking you up and down, "Well, it wasn't delivered to my office."

You roll your eyes as you get up, smoothing your skirt down. Walking up to the boy, he quickly hands you a rather large bouquet of flowers. The intoxicating floral aroma hits you almost immediately, you cannot help but be astounded by the arrangement. Each individual flower is rather large, some darker than others; Ombres of red and burgundy into black.

"They're beautiful," You admire, inhaling deeply. "I don't think I've ever seen these before. Do you know what kind of flowers they are?" You ask the teen curiously.

"Black dahlia's," he recalled, and your stomach felt like it dropped with the mention of the name. "I don't think we've ever gotten a request for those at my family's shop before. That's the only reason I remember," he shrugged.

"Does Bucky have a brother? Because like, are you kidding me right now?" You glanced at Hailee who was making an over-the-top pouty face.

Asking the teen if he had CashApp to tip him, you quickly ushered him off. Searching through the flowers to see if there was a card or any indication that they were in fact from Bucky, but there wasn't.

That night, Bucky came over for dinner. He brought take out from a local Greek place that he really liked, but you were distracted. Just pushing the food around on your plate.

"You okay, doll?" His forehead puckered slightly in question.

"Yeah, um," You shake your head to try and focus, "Hey, thanks for the flowers today. That was super sweet and unexpected," considering you've been kinda stressed.

"Flowers? What flowers?" Bucky's posture stiffens.

"I got flowers delivered to me at work today, I just assumed it... was from you? Maybe it was a mistake then." There were suddenly mixed emotions being stirred around in a frenzy. If Bucky wasn't the one who sent the flowers, then who did? You tried saying they were dropped in your office by accident, but it just didn't feel right. It felt intentional.

"Well, honey, I don't know who it was, but it wasn't me." Bucky stands up from the kitchen table, grabbing his dinner plate. "Are you done?" He asks gesturing to your plate. You nod and he takes it as well, "But it's something I should do, and I'll be more conscious of it. I'm sorry,"

"No, Buck I wasn't-"

His lips press to the top of your head, "No, you're right. If anyone should be doing it, it should be me. Let me take the garbage out for you and we'll have the night to ourselves, yeah? Anything you want."

"Anything?" You repeat, in singsong with a grin.

He shakes his head, scraping the scraps from the plates into the garbage returning the grin, "I like where this is going," Tying off the bag, he holds up two fingers, "give me two minutes," he opens the door to the apartment and starts jogging down the hallway, "two minutes!!" you hear him call out.

The door to the apartment doesn't even fully shut before you hear the familiar buzz coming from your bag. Letting out an annoyed sigh, you angrily push away from the table and stomp over to the counter, dumping out your purse just to see Unknown Caller lit up on your phone.

You hit the green button so hard it doesn't register, so you do it again until it answers, "Hello?! What the FUCK do you want?!" No answer. But this time, you can hear someone breathing heavily. "You need some help. Seriously, leave me the fuck alone!" Hanging up, you slam the phone down onto the counter.

"Doll?" Bucky asks from the doorway, he sighs, "Was it that number bothering you again?"

"Yes!" You answer, flustered. "The next step is to just- change my number! I don't know what else to do."

Bucky steps in, closing in the door behind him with the back of his boot. His lips are pressed in tight line, "C'mere, darlin'," he holds his arms wide open, eyes soft. Dragging your feet, you meet him halfway and lay your head on his chest, "It's gonna be okay," he coos in your ear. "It's just some asshole with nothing better to do. They'll get bored soon enough. Worst case, we'll change your number. We can even go down to the store tomorrow and get you a new phone?" Bucky offers, trying to be optimistic as he caresses your arms up and down.

"I was just really hoping it wouldn't get to that point." You admit, pulling away from his chest just enough to look up at him.

"We'll do what we have to." Bucky smiles, cupping your chin between his thumb and pointer finger before pressing his lips to yours.

Letting your lips linger a moment as your eyes close, you inhale deeply, taking in the cypress scented soap still lingering on his skin from a shower he took earlier. It's your favorite. Hence why you keep buying it every time he runs out. Bucky's lips separate yours, and when just the tips of your tongues connect, a barely audible whimper escapes your mouth.

Like a gun starting a marathon, it was all Bucky needed to hear. Reaching down and gripping behind your thighs, he hoists you up. With a delighted squeak, you wrap your legs around his torso, laughing but keeping your lips on his as your hands run through his short hair. Using one hand flat against your lower back to keep you pressed into his chest, Bucky's other hand firmly grasped your ass. His fingers purposefully grazing the inseam of your jeans between your legs as he walked towards the bedroom.

Bucky sits on the edge of the bed, keeping you both upright. You break the mashing of tongues to re-adjust your position and straddle him. Leaning in, you suck his bottom lip into your mouth, letting your teeth graze just a tiny bit before letting go. Bucky exhales a drawn out, low groan before licking his lips. The look in his eyes is absolutely carnal as he tugs your shirt over your head and throws it across the room. Not even bothering with your bra, he just pulls the black lace cups down beneath your breasts, propping them up in exposure as he dips down to flick his tongue across your nipple.

Initially it makes you shudder, but as he continues to suck, nibble, lick, repeat, you find reprieve in grinding your hips down into the ever-growing bulge in his pants. Bucky lets out a stifled groan before switching his mouth to your other nipple. You smirk to yourself; you just love to tease this man. Although, if we're being honest, this isn't so easy on you right now either.

Roughly gripping both sides of his face, you bring his lips back to yours. You’re starting to feel needy for more of his touch. Becoming desperate to relieve this fuel lit fire. Bucky’s hands were firmly placed on each of your ass cheeks, assisting your already rolling hips forward and back. He snakes one hand between your bodies, slipping it down the front of your pants, his finger sliding once between your slit. You both moan loudly in unison into the kiss.

"Fuuuck..." Bucky breathed, tilting his head back just slightly that your lips pull apart. "You're already so fucking wet for me," his lascivious eyes lock onto yours, his breathing already becoming rather ragged.

Hearing his debauched voice, knowing just that single glide of his finger has him aching so badly, has ignited a new spark in you. "It's all yours, baby," you purred. Biting the bottom corner of your lip, you slowly get off his lap. Hooking each of your pointer fingers into the front pockets of Bucky's jeans, you encourage him to stand up as you drop to your knees before him.

As he's fumbling with the button and zipper, you stare up at him with tantalizing eyes, your hands firmly grazing along his muscular thighs. Once he's able to get it open, you help start to shimmy down his jeans and boxer briefs passed his hips until they pool on the floor. Bucky's thick, long cock springs up at almost eye level in enthusiasm, instantly making your mouth water. Sticking your tongue out as far as you possibly can, you lock eyes with Bucky and press the tip to your tongue, dragging it to a flick.

Sucking in a breath through his teeth, his body quivered at the first contact. You smile as you taste the initial saltiness on your tongue, licking your lips before hollowing out your cheeks and taking him into your mouth. Bucky exhales deeply, his head starting to tilt back but he stops, making sure he maintains eye contact with you. You draw back, pressing your tongue upward firmly, go forward, and go back again. After a moment, a rhythm gets going, you now move your tongue side to side as you bob front to back, sucking harder.

"That's it," Bucky coaxes, "That's my good fucking girl," a small whimper escapes your throat at his words of praise. You clamp your legs together a little tighter as it's getting harder to ignore the incessant throbbing and growing wet spot between your legs.

The next thing you know, his hands are in your hair, gathering it up into a makeshift ponytail. Grasping his shaft with your hand steadily, you use that to guide your mouth, twisting and gliding easily. You know it's his weakness. Bucky's hips start to buck up into your mouth as he pulls your head down further onto his throbbing cock. Through now teary eyes you’re determined to watch as his face starts to contort with pleasure, his moans music to your ears just as your gagging is to him.

"You look...Ahh...so...fucking...pretty," Each word comes out with a drive of his hips into your mouth. In the dim lighting of the room, completely blissed out on pleasure, he looks like a fucking god. And he's mine. The thought alone is enough to make you explode. "Ugh!" Bucky growls, "I can't take it anymore! C'mere!" With a small 'pop', he pulls out and grabs underneath your arms and tosses you onto the bed.

Giggling, you wipe the excess saliva off your swollen, red lips as you push back further onto the bed. Bucky pulls your jeans and panties down and off in one swift motion before kneeling onto the bed. His eyes are glazed over, solely focused on between your legs. He crawls upward, and it's purely feline as he dips down, his mouth creating a seal and sucking once.

The combination of a loud moan and gasp get ripped straight from your lungs as you practically convulsed off the bed from being so aroused. Bucky quickly and securely locks your thighs in place to keep them open and from you going anywhere. He grinned, watching every single movement.

"Eyes on me, princess," he ordered. Pressing down on your lips, you nodded in anticipation. Leaning in, Bucky skimmed his lips on your very inner thigh, placing a feather light kiss that made your entire abdomen tense.

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

"Fuck," Bucky sits back up on his knees, taking his phone out of the pocket of his jeans that was still around his ankles. "Hello?" You stare up at him in complete disbelief, "What, now?" He looks down at you on the bed, giving a sympathetic look and mouths 'sorry'. Letting out an annoyed sigh, he drags a hand down his face. "Yeah... yeah. No- I understand... Okay. Yep. I'll be there. Bye." He hangs up the phone.

"Don't say it," you bite out, crossing your arms over your chest and closing your legs.

Bucky takes a deep breath, "I have to go back, a mission came up."

"Annnd, you said it," you look up at the ceiling, refusing to keep that eye contact that you were so adamant on not even a minute ago.

"It sounded pretty important, Doll." Bucky is off the bed, pulling up his pants and re-adjusting himself in them.

"It always is," you mutter under your breath. Sighing, you just accepted the fact that your night is completely ruined. "So, what you're telling me is, that I'm getting cock blocked by The Avengers?"

Bucky sits on the bed, placing a delicate hand on your cheek, "I'm really sorry. I'll make this up to you tenfold, promise." He kisses you softly, "I have to go. I'll contact you as soon as I can. I love you," He offers a small smile.

You sigh, knowing you can never let him leave on bad terms, "I love you too, Buck." Sitting up you give him a hug and a few extra kisses that probably made him late.

Still sitting in bed after Bucky had gone, you felt irrationally irritated by how he left. Tapping on your thighs, a headache was already brewing from the pent-up sexual tension that you were unable to get out. That's when you suddenly remembered a little something on your phone that might just help you out in this situation. There was this one particular time you and Bucky decided to record yourselves having sex, and you've never went back and watched it. If there was ever a time to go back and do so...

Excitedly, you go over to the dresser. You pull open your underwear drawer and dig through all the way to the back, where you stash your favorite vibrator. You click the silicone button a few times to make sure it's charged, and all the intensity settings worked before laughing menacingly to yourself and closing the drawer. Tossing the toy onto the bed, you walk out to the kitchen.

Your phone was where you had left it earlier, still slammed face down on the counter. Sashaying over, you notice that there's an applecore sitting next to it. This is odd, because you didn't have one and Bucky is normally very meticulous when it comes to cleaning and picking up after himself. Going to throw it out, you realize there is no garbage bag in the trash can and suddenly it makes sense. Bucky was in a rush to leave; he probably didn't have the time to replace the bag. So, you do it yourself, and throw out the eaten fruit.

Getting back to your room with your phone, you notice that your underwear drawer is open. Pursing your lips and narrowing your eyes, you look from the bed, to the dresser, back to the bed. I could have sworn I closed that. Then again, maybe it's just the headache coming on. You close the dresser drawer, and all too eagerly jump under the covers.

The ambiance for a little 'self-love' right now is almost too perfect. Your bedroom is dimly lit with only a mood lamp and the fog covered streetlamps from down below your apartment. The light patter of rain hit against your bedroom window and fire escape underneath it, while some light thunder rolled some distance away.

Scrolling through your phone, it wasn't hard to find exactly what you were looking for. Pressing 'play', you're watching a side view of you taking Bucky from the back. Your mouth drops open slightly, seeing it from a third person view. Bucky has his Vibranium hand on the side of your face, pushing you down further into the mattress and he is just relentless. And the sounds, God the sounds. You grab the vibrator, turning it on and quickly placing it onto your already sensitive and swollen clit and start rubbing it and soft circles.

"Look at how good you take it,"

"Oh, God!"

"Are you gonna come for me?"

"Mhm,"

"I can't hear you, princess,"

"Can I come Bucky? Please, please let me..."

"Of course, my good girl can come. Here... lean down more...open those legs wider...touch yourself...yeah...fuck, yeah...just like that baby,"

The bed is practically shattering underneath you as Bucky, who isn't even there, coaxes you into having an orgasm with yourself. You rub the vibrator more intensely, knowing you’re about to come hard from the pent-up tension this evening. The lights surge briefly in the apartment from the passing storm, just as your head presses down further against the pillows and the ripples of pleasure aggressively take over your body.

The lights go out momentarily, and that's when you see the silhouette of a tall, dark hooded figure standing on your fire escape looking into your window.

The lights come back on a second later and you’re panting. Both from the release and from what you saw. The cognizance hits you that you just came in front of a total stranger. Oh, and maybe that I might have a stalker.

The cops came, looked around, made you feel like an idiot, took a report, and left. Not feeling comfortable staying in the apartment for the night, you called Hailee, who offered up her spare bedroom.

Sitting across from you with her legs crossed on the couch, her hair in a bonnet, a glass of wine, and blue raspberry vape, she leaned in, listening intently to the details leading up to this moment.

“Soo… you know I’m gonna ask,” she starts.

You sigh, “I don’t know when I’m going to tell Bucky. I always feel so guilty when he’s away and something happens.”

Hailee’s face scrunches as she waves her hand in dismissal, “No, no not that,” You raise an eyebrow at her in confusion. “Can I see it?” She lowers her voice, but it’s oozing with hope.

“Bitch,” both your eyebrows raise in aghast, realizing what she’s actually asking.

“What?! Come onnnn,” She whines, pressing her hands together in plead and pouts her lip.

“Oh my god, Hailee! No! Just… no.”

Rolling her eyes she composes herself again, “Okay, so like, you ever just… look at a man, and you just know?” Her hands wave around as she’s trying to explain, “Like, that man can fuck? I feel like that’s Bucky. And so…” Hailee looks so determined right now, “s-shame on you!” She points directly at you, this is comical, “for not sharing the video evidence! Because now I’m convinced you have a boring, vanilla sex life!”

Leaning back against the kitchen counter sipping your glass of water, you hear yourself coming down from the highs of ecstasy through your phone. Hailee’s wide eyes are glued, mouth dropped open, speechless, for once. The sound finally cuts off.

“Are you sure he doesn’t have a brother because-”

You quickly snatch the phone out of her hand, “Okay, you got what you wanted. Can we be serious now?!”

“Yeah,” Hailee shakes her head, “yeah, of course…” she takes a deep breath, “I’m just saying, you seriously have some career options if your current job doesn’t work out though.”

“Hailee!!”

“Okay! I’m sorry!” Her hands go up in a surrender, “but you put in a police report, and I mean, of course you can stay here. What else are you going to do?”

*Ding*

“Hang on, I just got a text.”

“Who the fuck would be texting you this late?” Hailee asks, getting off the couch to read the text with you over your shoulder.

Together you read the message:

Part 2

If you enjoyed this, please check out my masterlist

@peaches1958 @aquabrie @elsie-bells @pono-pura-vida @redbloodedgurl @almosttoopizza @beware-my-thorns @prettylittlepluviophile @annoyinglythoughtfuldestiny @calwitch @ozwriterchick @roofwitty779 @lessersole @lil-darhk @agoddoesnotplead @saranghaey @erinallene @mrsvxder @elizabeth916 @cjand10 @bucky-barnes-lover @wintrsoldrluvr

[ireneaesthetic]

Pointing out little moments and details of the last yr scene.

wilmon endgame • episode 6

the camera work is so on point - it follows wille around moving frenetically, as to emphasize the hurry and the tension.

simon gets in panic mode for a sec. he was never over wilhelm but definitely thought their relationship was.

at first he looks ... scared - not of wille but of what he feels for him at this point. he's still in love but they got to the finish line, they broke up with no idea of when or if they will talk to each other again, there's no reason for wille to chase after him if not to change something.

it makes his thoughts spiral, but somewhere in his little heart he has a lot of hope too and that's why he steps out of the car to hear what he has to say.

these words really mean everything and i'm glad they're told directly to simon. it's such a sigh of relief for wilhelm to get this off his chest and mean it for real: he's doing something for his own sake finally - to be free, to be happy, to be in control of his own life for once.

he never got to choose anything - somebody else has always done it for him - but he no longer has to be afraid anymore.

simon is just as relieved and the proudest: he proved over and over again to care so deeply. to see wilhelm constantly hurting inevitably hurt him too.

he knew wille was brave - he actually told him once - and he was so right. it takes a lot of courage to do what wille just did.

shut up he's adorable :') playing with his fingers and trying not to break into a smile. he wants to look calm and collected but his heart is jumping out of happiness.

this comes after the are you sure you're over me? - breaking up was all it took for wille to think that simon must not love him anymore: to earn love and for everything to be perfect in order to deserve love is what his family and royal life always taught him - but simon's what the hell do you think? proves him so wrong.

the tears in his eyes i cannot - this is the face of a man who's bursting out of love, he adores simon this much.

they crush into the hug like they've been dying to do it. what a moment it must be for them to close the distance.

in this hug they find what they both were needing the most.

they hold on to each other. emotions are so overwhelming and it's written all over their faces - it feels too good to be real.

it's almost scary to let go now and i love how they tighten the hug at the same time, clinging to make it last longer.

and they're at the same height so simon has to be on his tippy toes ahsjkh.

oh the beauty in simon feeling every emotion to the fullest and letting them all out. he doesn't hold himself back and it is truly heartwarming to watch.

this hug is healing - he's giving joy to be back in wille's arms, proud of wille for putting himself first, relief because the fear of losing him was too much to handle.

the single tear drop and the pure disbelief in his expression. he caresses wille's cheek and keeps looking at him like he's the most precious thing.

doing the triangle method - again. old habits never die huh.

wille letting simon choose to whether kiss him or not.

it's our simon we're talking about, the one that risked it all and initiated their very first kiss bc he liked wille that much already, so could he possibly not do that now? he obviously does and can't help but smile into it.

they can't get enough of kissing and wandering hands. it's like their only way to make this become more and more real.

fair to say they're kinda obsessed with each other's hair!

love love looove the transition from them kissing in secret in the dark of the night to them kissing freely out in the open in the daylight - the most beautiful metaphor.

completely different plot points but the feelings involved are so familiar - reunion kisses are very much their brand: there's longing, passion, need to savor the moment to make it last.

and this time it can really last forever.

something super special about simon not replying with i love you too but sticking to i love you - it is not just reciprocal.

this shot haunts me. it's from the documentary and idk why it wasn't used in the final cut, i'll make space for it here anyway!

wille can't stop smiling and simon never takes his eyes off of him - he's emotionally overwhelmed by the way he bites his lip and his chin trembles. my heart.

no ray of sunshine between them could ever distract me from wilhelm diving into this kiss with his eyes open.

simon is definitely being pulled closer by the waist here and i take it very personally.

i was already full on sobbing when this part of the scene came up - sara and felice calling them out bc they are too caught up in their own bubble.

they still take one more moment to just look at each other so fondly tho and try to get a grip on what has just happened.

i get you wille! simon is the loml too.

this shot is sooo!!! hillerska in the rear view mirror as they drive away - time for the last bittersweet goodbye.

all of them are wearing white, they're driving off in a white car, most carefree than ever - sounds a lot like freedom and fresh start.

some things never change - they're the most comfortable and happy when they can be just them, just like this.

god knows where they're headed but it doesn't really matter as long as they're together.

wilmon endgame babyyyy.

they've been through so much but come so far eventually. it's the end of young royals but the beginning of a new chapter in wilmon story - the best one - and it's only theirs to write from now on.

it's still going to be tough, storms are still about to come their way and ruin plans, life is a mess but at least they have each other. they're holding hands in a we are in this together kind of promise and it's so reassuring to know.

it was a hell of a ride but love and hope wins - and there's truly no one who deserves it more than them.

time to appreciate the comparison between wille the perfect crown prince and messy hair with undone shirt wille!

he looks at the audience for the very last time with the most content smile and we can tell he really is - ready. to leave us behind, to face the future, to experience life in the way we've seen him fight for before.

wilmon breaking the fourth wall together at the end would've been insane, but it feels so right to focus on wille actually: it's always been just him, it all started with our eyes on him and his journey, the choice to abdicate is for his own sake and not for simon - he said it himself - so for him to be alone in the closing shot makes the most sense to me.

wilhelm finally getting his own little family of people who loves and values him, simon sharing life with the person who's made him feel seen and cared for - this is honestly the best finale we could’ve ever asked for.

[whatitshouldvebeen]

(no idea if these even go through, first time pls be patient with me) i’ve been going through your blog for a few days and i am loooving it omg i love the way you write so much! i was wondering what you would think would go down when,

a victim using reader as bait to let the victim go

a victim hurting reader (mistook as a family member) or

A victim dragging reader out an exit to escape also (thinking she’s another person trapped there) please don’t feel like you have to answer all, (or even answer at all) you have your own life and you can make your own decisions in life :) 👋

A Dog's Loyalty

I wrote this as a combo of all three requests of yours!

Description: Ana tries to escape with you, but you don't want to leave

Warnings: blood, injury

"Oh my god, Leland, there's someone else in here!"

You looked up at her, your eyes wide. You were huddled in the corner of Johnny's shack, frozen in place. It had been months since you saw another person; you'd almost forgotten anyone but Johnny truly existed.

"Don't worry, hun, we'll get you out. My name is Ana, what's yours?" the young woman asked, working to untie the rope from around your ankle. She had the most beautiful tan skin, her dark hair matted with sweat but still cascading in pretty waves down to her shoulders. The guy she'd called Leland kept watch, peeking out of the cracked front door anxiously.

You hesitantly told her your name, and she smiled as she helped you up from the floor. "I think our friend Julie already unlocked the front gate. We just have to get there without getting caught."

Leland signaled that the coast was clear, sliding through the crack in the door. Ana waited for you to go, and you marveled at how easy it was to get through now. You'd been here so long you'd lost a lot of weight since the first time you'd been sneaking around trying to escape.

You're almost blinded by the light as you emerge on the other side. How long had it been since you'd been outside? You couldn't even remember. Months? A year? Longer?

Ana came out after you, and not long after the three of you heard a chainsaw revving. Ana pulled you into some tall grass while Leland ran away from the exit, drawing the attention of the man you'd heard Johnny refer to as "big boy," who yelled in outrage as he chased after him.

"Come on, now's our chance!" Ana said, grabbing your hand. You stumbled after her, not used to running after so long locked away.

"Where do you think you're going, sweetheart?"

The voice stopped you in your tracks, only a few feet from the gate. Ana looked at you incredulously and tried to pull you toward the gate.

"Come on! He's coming!!" She screamed, tugging at you. You stayed rooted in place, your ears burning.

"Be a good girl and stay right where you are." Johnny rounded the corner of the white picket fence, walking so slowly you probably could get away if you started running. But you didn't.

"Oh my god, you're one of them, aren't you?!" Ana accused, pulling your back against her chest. She took out a bone scrap and held it to your neck, her breathing erratic.

"Let me and Leland go, or I'll kill her!" Ana said, pressing the scrap against your neck and backing up toward the gate. You winced, but it wasn't anything new to have a sharp edge threaten your life.

Johnny stopped, his eyes narrowing.

"'Fraid I can't do that. Your friend is already in the basement being chopped up as we speak."

Ana swallowed harshly. "You piece of shit! You're lying!"

Johnny grinned. "Stick around fer dinner and I'll let you see him again, all dressed in some nice gravy ‘n chitlins."

Ana's tears fell on your shoulder as her back ran into the gate. Johnny stayed where he was, his fingers twitching at his side.

"Johnny," you whispered, trying not to move.

"Obviously, she wants to stay. Keep her," Ana said, shoving the gate open. She then took the bone scrap and jabbed it into your thigh, throwing you to the side.

You screamed as you fell to the ground, blood welling around the bone scrap. Johnny let out a feral growl before lunging, moving faster than you'd ever seen him move.

"Help me!" Ana screamed, running out onto the road. Johnny moved twice as fast, fueled by rage as he grabbed her around her midsection. He didn't hesitate before dragging his blade across her throat, her blood fanning out through the air and splattering on the road. He let her drop to the road, discarded, and you heard him run back through the gate.

He collected you in his arms, sitting on the dusty ground and holding you close.

"Are you okay baby?" He asked, gently stroking your hair from your face. He looked down at your leg and winced, the first time you've ever seen him queasy at the sight of an injury.

You nodded, though your face was pallid and your fingertips felt cold.

"I… need a bandaid…"

Johnny laughed and nodded. "I'll get ya one. Come on." He picked you up easily, cradling you against his chest. Instead of taking you to his shack, he brought you into Nancy's house for the first time. Once inside he laid you out on the dining room table, much like the meals they'd served over the years.

He rushed to the bathroom and brought back gauze.

"This is gonna hurt sugar. Here." He unbuckled his belt and put it between your teeth. "Bite down on this, alright?"

You nodded, and he smiled. "Good girl. One… two…" He then yanked the bone scrap from your thigh.

You wailed, more thick blood oozing out onto the table. Johnny poured alcohol over the wound, making the pain almost unbearable. He then, as quickly as he could, wrapped your leg in gauze. You felt your vision getting fuzzy as you began to fade. But then, Johnny leaned over the table, took his belt back, and kissed you.

Your heart instantly picked up, and your eyes focused on him as he pulled back, his cocked grin on his handsome face.

"You showed your loyalty today, sugar. I knew you were special." He kissed you again, and even though your arms were weak you still wrapped them around his neck. When he pulled back, he looked happier than you'd ever seen him.

"Welcome to the family."

[klm-zoflorr]

Agnes Montague, the villain Phoenix :33

I used a stained glass filter on this one, looove how it looks. Also here are a few versions without as much editing so you can see the details.

Agnes is one of my favorites in this AU. And in general too I guess lol. So I made her entirely too overpowered! She's obviously based off Dark Phoenix/Jean Grey/The Phoenix from Xmen. Without as much of the hero-turned-villain vibes Jean has, Agnes can be nice but she's mostly a wrong-doer.

I'd probably say she's the most powerful super-human in the 'verse, or at least where the story takes place. Her and Magnus are buddy-buddies because. Um. I just want them to be.

So, her powers, right. She can control and

produce fire, lots of it. She can fly. The wings only appear when she wants them to btw. I think she has some form of telekinesis, sure why not plus I don't have a lot of people like that in the verse (and I'm quickly running out of canon characters anyways loool). I don't think I'll give her too many psychic powers? Maybe just some ability to block psychic attacks. Oh well nevermind lets just make her cooler let's say she can attack people psychically, as in not quite read their thoughts (even if I think she could grasp on some of the things you're thinking while she's there) but like, cause intense pain to her victim and maybe even kill them by hitting them with her mind.

Her hands are more like talons or claws, with tough nails and strong, too. She can rip someone's face off or hold herself up with them.

The nature of her powers make them somewhat incontrollable and ill-suited for precision work or limiting damage/casualties.

Despite all of that, Agnes is very tired and looks as such. Her abnormal body warmth makes her sleep poorly and not very much, if she isn't setting the room on fire or throwing objects around when she's having nightmares. She holds off from getting intoxicated in any way because she might level off the whole island if she did.

And the cherry on the cake... She can ressurect herself. AND others. Let the holy cleansing fire engulf you and be reborn anew with your sins scrubbed clean yadda yadda you know the deal. It resets people to a younger age and cures any ailment they have, so that's a rather extreme form of healing too if you will.

Naturally, with that sort of powers the Cult Of The Lightless Flame (named like that because Agnes hoggs all the light) treats her as a goddess. Which isn't that far from the truth actually.

Suffice to say in the story she is not the big bad our heroes have to take down because that would be straight-up impossible.

Design notes and misc:

-I usually imagine her with dark hair, but for this AU she really just had to be a redhead I feel.

-Yes, in the art she doesn't have feet but that's just because I got lazy.

-She wears practical gloves, a guilded shiny supersuit, impractical shoulder pads and a white flowy skirt and shoulder sash that both get set on fire very frequently. This is meant to evoke how she mostly doesn't care or need to be dressing appropriately for fighting, she's too powerful to need to.

-She doesn't carry anything on herself either, no pockets no bags no nothing, she has goons for that. She's just there to look impressive and deus ex machina everyone's asses to the ground if they get too annoying.

-She's lived a long life, done a lot, was in the military at some point which influenced a lot of how she thinks. Again, she CAN be unfrivolous and practical, she just doesn't want to and has to remain a symbol. She can shoot a gun pretty well.

-Her "crown" (it's a paper crown) is something children that admired her gave her. She's very very careful not to burn it, but can't wear it everywhere either

-She's not much of a strategizer or a long-term planner unlike Magnus, she just doesn't see the point in that and she already has everything she could ever want. She could have the potential to rule the city instead of having everyone vaguely follow her lead, but she's just not much of a tyrant.

Oh, yeah, and Jude. Jude Perry is Agnes' right hand woman and closest friend, her villain name is Lampadarius and she can make anything that isn't organic matter melt/heat up (like those cans in MAG012: First Aid). One of her favorite tricks is heating up her gloves and burning people like that. It pisses her off when you call her Agnes' guard dog. She's been ressurected a few times by the Phoenix, so been around for a while too.

[lightlycareless]

Can you do hc for what a daddy-daughter date with Naoya would look like? 🥺

Hello!!!

OF COURSE I CAN AAAAAAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR SENDING THISSSSSSSS

I believe I ended up describing Naomi a bit more than Naoya, but, you know, it's still cute and I enjoyed writing it :) jsgfhajksghjas I still looove these domestic hc's, please keep 'em coming.

warnings: none. fluff. family stuff. naoya is a loving father. but so insecure. you have a daughter named naomi and she is adorable. lots of hello kitty.

Happy reading!

You message was clear and direct, unmistakable in the neatly written note found on the bedside table…

“Don’t forget I’m going to be away today and tomorrow! Everything Naomi related is already set so you don’t have to worry about anything, but my staff will remain attentive if anything arises.

This is the perfect opportunity for the two to spend time together too! Our little princess misses her papa dearly, so be sure to make the best out of these days 💖 I love you, my beloved husband, see you soon!!”

Naoya won’t deny that your words made him quite anxious, primarily for the fear of not providing his daughter with the entertaining evening she deserved. It had been so long since the two spent any time together, just the two of them, that Naoya had began to believe he was not a good father at all.

Were there any indications, outside of your comforting words, that Naomi wanted to be with him in the first place?

Yes. Naomi had unconditionally showed her love and appreciation for him, from the video calls he’d make on a daily basis, to her reaction upon learning he was finally to return home… it’s clear that she’s happy to see her papa!

And yet, his insecurities would continue to pry at the back of his mind, telling him he was not good enough—never compared to you.

“Naomi loves you, Naoya! So much that when she learns you’re coming back it’s all she talks about! So don’t be afraid of spending time with your baby, I know she wants to be with you as much as you do.”

Naoya has to thank you for always managing to pull him back to earth whenever the darkness of his thoughts overwhelms him. And such, he prepares himself to give his daughter the best day she could ever imagine, and without anyone’s help!

… Or so he hopes.

“Papa… good morning.” Naomi yawns when picked up by her father, him chuckling at the sight of her unruly bed hair—it was perhaps his favorite sight, to see the back of her black hair stand up like a duck’s butt, accompanied by her drowsy chubby face that sometimes had drool in it; Symbol of a good rest.

“Good morning, little mochi. Did you sleep well?” Naoya asks, taking her to the bathroom to clean her up.

“Mmhmm!” she nods, rubbing her eyes.

“Don’t rub too harshly, princess.” He warns, retrieving a lukewarm towel and cleaning her face. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

“Where’s mama?” Naomi wonders, looking around as if hoping to see you.

“She’s with grandpa, remember? He needs her help, so she left.”

Naomi frowns, trying to remember when you said such a thing. Naturally, she doesn’t, but it’s not like it bothers her much—not when she has a long day full of fun coming up.

“What are we going to do?” She asks, a grin appearing on her lips as ideas begin to appear in her mind. “Oh, I know!! We can go to the park, or—or we can go to the zoo…”

“Actually, I already have something prepared that I know you’ll like.” Naoya responds with a smile, pinching her cheek. Naomi’s eyes widen, full of curiosity.

“A kitten?!” The little girl gasps.

Naoya’s right eye twitches, feeling to have unwittingly shot himself on the foot with such phrasing. So much caution in avoiding the subject, just for him to come along and ruin all of their efforts! The thought of a pet is something you and Naoya hoped to consider until she was much older…

Well, thankfully, today’s date will distract her; for now.

“No, something even better.”

She frowns skeptically, a hilarious sight that Naoya tries his best to not laugh at. Her dramatic expressions were always ones to enjoy, though neither knew whom she took after for them. (Naoya)

“But I won’t tell you, you have to see it.”

“Papaaaaa!! Tell me!!” she insists.

“Nope.” He shrugs. “It’ll ruin the surprise.”

“Not fair, Papa!!” She crosses her arms, upset. “I won’t go if you don’t tell me!”

“Then I guess we won’t get ice cream from that place you love so much.”

The good thing about her young age is that it doesn’t take much for her to fold. Just the right words and she’s back to the cheerful, energetic girl she always was—though these “retaliations” have become a bit more common than before, probably a sign that his baby girl isn’t much of a baby anymore, a reminder of how much he’s missed of her life already…

Well, he’s here now, gotta make up for all he’s lost.

“I’m ready papa, I’m ready!” Naomi cheered as soon as Naoya changed her out of her pajama, a half-truth for her hair as messy as it was found.

Per routine, you’d be the one to get her ready by now. From choosing her clothes the day before, to styling her hair, everything that entailed Naomi you took care of.

But since you weren’t here… well, Naoya’s reminded yet again that he doesn’t know much of his baby daughter. Not even how to do her hair! Could he even consider himself a deserving father?

“Is everything alright?” It was Mariya, knocking on the bathroom door before entering. You didn’t need to tell her to keep an eye on your husband to know he’d struggle with Naomi. In fact, as soon as he saw her enter the bathroom, she remained close, just in case she was needed—and that, she was.

“Oh, good morning, Mariya.” Naoya murmurs, slightly embarrassed to be found in the middle of his… crisis. “Yeah, everything is fine…”

“Hello Mariya-nee!!” Naomi grins, waving her chubby little hands at her. Mariya waves back.

“I can help you with that, Naoya.” She offers, stepping closer to the two.

“I—”

“It’s fine. One step at a time.” Mariya reassures him.

Naoya presses his lips together, hesitant to accept her help before obliging, understanding she was there to support him, not judge. Your entourage wasn’t like his, or his family. Thankfully.

“… Thank you.” Naoya quietly says, she smiles.

“Just worry about having fun with Naomi and taking pictures for Y/N, you have no idea how upset she’ll be if you don’t.”

“I know, I know.” Naoya chuckles. “I already have everything ready for that.”

“And you, Naomi, don’t forget to go easy on your dad!” Mariya teases, pinching her cheek. “Or to be cute when he takes pictures of you!”

“But I’m always cute!”

“That, you are.” Mariya then hugs her, kissing the top of her head before leading them over to the exit. “Have a safe trip and a nice day! We’ll be waiting for your return.”

“Goodbye!!” Naomi waves from the car seat. “See you later!!!”

And as Naoya drives away, he silently prays that his surprise he doesn’t ruin Naomi’s enthusiasm, or he’ll never show his face to you ever again.

“Papa, where are we going? Are we there yet??” Naomi whines, tired of watching the city pass her while tightly holding onto her favorite Hello Kitty plushie, wiggling her legs to accentuate her boredom.

“Almost there, princess. Just a few more minutes.” Naoya responds.

“…you said that a while ago… I wanna know!”

“It’s a surprise, and what good would it be if I tell you?”

“I don’t like surprises!” she exclaims, Naoya laughs.

“Now, no need to lie.”

“…I’m sorry. I’m bored.” 

“We’re almost there.” He says once more upon entering a parking lot, taking Naomi out of her seat, holding her hand before heading towards the busy streets. “We just gotta walk a bit.”

“I don’t wanna walk…” Naomi murmurs, holding his hand even tighter. She never liked crowded places, made her nervous; you and Naoya didn’t know whether to worry or to be glad…

“Alright—up you go.” Naoya smiles, wrapping Naomi with his arms and carrying her. “It’s just a bit more, but I promise it’ll be worth it.”

And it happened just as he anticipated, if not better, for as soon as the two were a mere feet away from their destination, Naomi abruptly goes silent, eyes wide as she observed the well-known figure of her favorite feline mascot, with a brightly light sign that further justified her reaction appearing before her:

Hello Kitty Café.

Naoya was right in assuming this was the right place to bring Naomi, having set his attention on it after reading about it online. He waited for Naomi to be just a bit older so she could enjoy it even better, but it never left his mind. Of course, he would’ve wanted to make this occasion even better with your presence, but a part of him wanted to keep something… exclusive between the two. You already took your daughter to all places unimaginable, leaving almost nothing he could compete with!

Though one place would remain off limits until the three could attend, and you agreed. A particular amusement park that he was sure would completely freeze her, if she was already overwhelmed with a simple café…

“What is it, pumpkin? Cat got your tongue?” Naoya teases, making Naomi turn even redder, quickly hiding her face on the crook of her father’s neck out of embarrassment. “Aww, mochi…”

“Papa!” Naomi she squeaks. “It’s a—it’s a Hello Kitty—!”

“I know, I know.” He kisses the top of her head. “Want to go inside?”

“Yes!!” She gasps, wiggling her way out of her father’s arm and down to the ground, where she’d sprint right to the entrance, cheerfully greeted by the hostess who seemed to enjoy observing the excitement of children when coming to this place—one of the many perks of the job.

Naoya had reserved a table in advance, obviously the most luxurious one could get a restaurant like that anyways, with all the commodities included: for not only did it serve as a café, but also a place where Naomi could get a complete makeover.

From hair, nails, makeup, even clothes and shoes—it had it all, and to make it even better, with items donning her favorite Sanrio characters.

“Papa!! Papa!!!” Naomi gasps, a small finger eagerly tapping the menu, particularly the image of the vanilla and strawberry ice cream decorated with a hello kitty cookie—it may not be much, but for an innocent girl who had never seen such a thing, nor thought it possible, it might just be the greatest discovery yet. “Look!! They have Hello Kitty ice cream!!”

“We can order it if you want.”

“Yes!! I want it!!” She grinned, looking over to the rest of the menu. “Or the—or the hamburger! Or… cake too!”

“One at a time, pumpkin. We can also take the cake back home to mama, you know. But at least get something to eat for breakfast.”

“Yes!” She nodded. “Or we can bring mama too.”

Naoya’s heart flutters at the thought of spending time with his family. Seeing you and his daughter giggle at whatever the latter makes up. Spoiling his girls with whatever they want, though he’d have a certain preference for you, wanting to reward all that you’ve done for him while he was away completing missions he often tries to convince himself as necessary.

The reason why he did all of this. To see the two happy.

He misses you dearly. Please come back home soon.

Naomi would continue to order whatever her little heart desired, though she wouldn’t take more than just a bite from them. Probably just wanting to try them out and that was it—and Naoya knows that as her father he shouldn’t let her be so careless with her selections, but as her father, he couldn’t stop himself from wanting to indulge his little princess.

Neither on the food, nor the souvenirs Naomi had more than enough back home… which she of course had to have because they were limited edition. From the keychain she’d come to place on her school backpack, to the huge, almost life-sized Hello Kitty plush Naoya ordered the workers to ship to the estate as soon as possible, just so it’d be there when they returned home.

And we still had the makeover to go through, another thing Naoya rightfully assumed she would enjoy given the way she’d intently stared at you when getting ready—as well as that one time he caught her wearing your lipstick. So adorable…

Either way, as soon as Naomi jumped onto the chair and the hairdresser draped her over with a cape, she was given a somewhat extensive catalogue to choose from, naturally inclining for…

“Hello Kitty!” Naomi chirped, pointing at the picture of the little girl with two buns on the top of her head, long hair in the back, and of course, an iconic red bow to adorn. “This one!”

“Alright, sweetie.” The woman smiles, getting ready to work but not before giving Naoya one last look, as if seeking confirmation to proceed, or perhaps even something else… what sometimes follows when a woman sees an apparently single father being highly doting to his daughter…

But he was quick to shut her down, one stern, cold look and a glance of his wedding band was enough to put her back into place. The Naomi’s mother, coincidentally the love of his life, was very much still in the picture, and he’d like to keep it that way.

It was almost comical how oscillating Naoya behaved between the two, attentive and caring with his daughter, but strict and stern with the hairdresser. He wouldn’t be if he hadn’t noticed her intentions…

Yet, he wasn’t going to let that affect Naomi’s excitement, overflowing happiness for being dressed up as her favorite character of all time, with that red bow she always dreamed of wearing (she has many at home, but it always felt like the first time whenever you put it on her), alongside that glittery make up she’d always hoped to one day wear as well, followed by a dress that made her look even cuter, inspired by the colors of the same mascot, with kitten heels to spare—ending up look as a small version of Hello Kitty. Cuter, Naoya must admit.

Lastly, she’d proceed with a manicure, a thin coat of nail polish with stickers of different Sanrio characters; Naoya had previously asked that she be given something that wasn’t too hard to remove later. She was still a kid, after all, she’d have the rest of her life if she wanted to do something permanent.

… As well as all the motivation in the world to convince him into getting his nails done as well.

“Come on, papa!” Naomi insists, showing him her nails. “You too!”

“I—I don’t know…” He responds hesitantly. “I don’t think I’ll look good with them—”

Not that it mattered beyond that, for the moment she pouted Naoya was nothing but putty in her hands—stickers placed across his nails, as many as could fit thanks to Naomi’s persistence.

He could imagine the kind of comments his family would shoot at him, but Naoya had long declared that whatever they had to say wasn’t of his interest. He was doing this for his daughter, and that was unmistakable.

“How do I look?!” Naomi exulted once she was ready, her face bright with excitement as she showed off her dress.

“Beautiful, darling.” He smiled, leaning down to pinch her cheek—almost ruffling her hair. Good thing he remembered to not ruin her pretty princess’ look before he regretted it. She never quite liked it when he did that. “Come on, let’s take a picture so mama can see you—over there, with Hello Kitty.”

“Hello Ki…?”

If she was already overwhelmed by seeing this thematic café, how she felt upon seeing her favorite character standing before her, waving at her, was simply… indescribable.

Naomi stood frozen, perfectly still as the mascot continued to greet her, hoping to either warm her up into responding or another type of reaction, anything really, since Naomi was just… there.

Attempting to take in what was happening in front of her—

Before she started to cry when she finally did.

“Naomi?!” Naoya gasped, walking over to her and kneeling to her height. His overprotective nature led him to believe something was wrong, something he had to fix, but after hearing her small sobs, the murmurs revealing how happy she was to see Hello Kitty there, as well as how she walked over to hug her, he soon understood her reaction.

She was simply thrilled to have met her favorite character.

Oh, what was going to happen when he finally took her to Sanrio Puroland? Was she going to pass out?!

Thankfully, that is something that he won’t have to deal with alone, having already scheduled days off where he’d take you and little Naomi on a small holiday, this stop simply being one of many in the itinerary.

“Pa—papa—it’s—it’s—” Naomi cries, looking over to him yet tightly holding onto Hello Kitty who attempted to comfort her by patting her back.

“Oh, pumpkin, you don’t need to cry.” He laughs, carefully rubbing away her tears. “You’re going to ruin your pretty make up and upset Hello Kitty; She’s very excited to see you too, you know, and you wouldn’t want that, right?”

Naomi’s lips tremble as shakes her head, mouthing a quiet no as she cleans her face. Once better, Naoya asks her to stand next to Hello Kitty, pose for mama’s picture, which Naomi did to the best of her ability, teary-eyed as she smiled.

Naoya smiles, chuckling at how Naomi cheerfully shared her day with Hello Kitty, as if catching up with her life-long best friend, while reminiscing the joys of being a father to a daughter so adorable he was proud to call his.

From her smile, to her giggles, to her pout and frown…

Naomi was perfect in every sense of the word, and there was nothing he wouldn’t do for her.

There was no question about it, with his insecurities out of his mind, there was no space for doubt anymore. Especially not during the drive back home, after a long day of exciting adventures, when a sleepy Naomi confided in him with the words that would make his heart soar.

“Today was the best day of my life!” Naomi declared with a yawn, tightly hugging one of her new plushies as she began to slowly drift deeper into slumber. “I love you, Papa.”

“I love you too, pumpkin.”

Indeed, Naoya was a good father, the one that Naomi loved very, very much.

TLDR: Naoya may not be able to do a lot of thing since he's greatly absent, but he makes sure you and Naomi have everything. Also, he's a big spender on Naomi, and it won't take long before she figures that out to her (further) advantage.

Shall I write about their time at puroland? Now I'm really curious about Naomi's reactiong hahahahahaha if anyone wants me to... I mean... I guess..... lol. 😏

Anyways, I want to thank you so much for sending in this!! It was really cute, ajgkjakghasjkghajksg Naomi is just 🥺💖💖💖💖 I love her. (That ending is..... sad considering other things hahaha IGNORE ME DAMMIT I ruined it :( )

Now, take care, and hope to see you soon!!!

[curufiin]

*brandishes a notebook and mechanical pencil* tell me everything

OKAY. SO. (oh my god this is so long)

VERY basic lore there was this guy called Fëanor who was apparently just the SEXIEST fucking elf ever. Like canonically one of the hottest guy to have ever existed.

For Fëanor was made the mightiest in all parts of body and mind: in valour, in endurance, in beauty, in understanding, in skill, in strength and subtlety alike: of all the Children of Ilúvatar, and a bright flame was in him.

He had seven kids (and a LOT of war crimes), topic for another discussion because we’re mainly focused on the two that everyone is freaking out about. For reference their names (in birth order) are Maedhros, Maglor, Celegorm, Caranthir, Curufin, Amrod, and Amras. We’re gonna look at Celegorm and Curufin specifically.

So, one of the most notable things about Celegorm and Curufin is that (aside from literally maybe three occasions), they’re basically always mentioned together.

“Celegorm was almost always in the company of his brother Curufin / Curufin was almost always in the company of his brother Celegorm” — Tolkien Gateway

In fact, in an early draft of Silm, Curufin was actually the fourth son of Fëanor, and not the fifth. Not sure why he changed it but yeah, they’re basically best friends on top of being bros. They ruled a kingdom together and committed many war crimes together and it was good!

Celegorm, specifically, is extra special. He and his brothers belong to a group of elves called the Noldor, which is kinda like a nationality/ethnicity. They’re noteworthy for having dark hair, and they looove making things like jewelry and other forge objects. In fact, Fëanor was so good at it that if he wasn’t, this book wouldn’t even exist but anyway. Celegorm is special because he literally just straight up fails to be a typical Noldo because why the hell not I guess?!?!?

In the book he is given the epithet “the Fair”, and in canon it’s up for debate whether fair is used in the sense that he’s super hot or fair as in light colored in reference to his hair. However, multiple early drafts state that he has “golden” or “gleaming” hair, or some other wording, but either way his hair was noted to Not Be Black even though Parent 1 had black hair and Parent 2 had reddish hair.

But up there starts / amid the throng, and loudly cries / for hearing, one with flaming eyes, / proud Celegorm with gleaming hair / and shining sword — The Lay of Leithian

“Then Celegorm arose amid the throng (p. 169). In QS this is followed by ‘golden was his long hair’. In the Lay at this point (line 1844) Celegorm has ‘gleaming hair’; his Old English name was Cynegrim Fægerfeax (‘Fair-hair’), IV. 213. The phrase was removed in The Silmarillion text on account of the dark hair of the Noldorin princes other than in ‘the golden house of Finarfin’ (see I. 44); but he remains ‘Celegorm the fair’ in The Silmarillion p. 60.” — Christopher Tolkien’s nonsensical ramblings I pasted from Tolkien Gateway because I don’t have some of these books. Basically every mention of Celegorm with something about his hair color

In published Silm, Christopher removes the mention of Celegorm’s hair color and I will kill him for it, but as he said he is still referred to as Celegorm the Fair in the narrative, so Tolkien probably did intend on “fair” being used to talk about his hair color. Popular fanon often draws him with either very light blonde or straight up white hair as well. This is a whole nother thing but all you need to know is that this guy’s blonde and it’s SUPER weird.

The Noldor also love making things. There are many, many mentions in the book of their love for making things and shiny gems, and I will put a few of them here

“The Noldor also it was who first achieved the making of gems…”

And it came to pass that the masons of the house of Finwë, quarrying in the hills after stone (for they delighted in the building of high towers), first discovered the earth-gems, and brought them forth in countless myriads; and they devised tools for the cutting and shaping of gems, and carved them in many forms.

Many jewels the Noldor gave them, opals and diamonds and pale crystals…

So on and so forth. The Sons of Fëanor are even said to visit the house of Aulë (god/patron of rocks and gems and making shit) often. However, Celegorm was the noteworthy exception, because he likes hunting, and instead followed the teachings of Oromë, patron/god of animals and hunting shit and what have you.

but Celegorm went rather to the house of Oromë, and there he got great knowledge of birds and beasts, and all their tongues he knew.

He even got a dog from Oromë! Why is this important, you ask? Well okay it’s not but popular fanon tends to portray him as tall and strong and muscular, presumably because of the hunting, and i’m sure riding horses all day in Beleriand’s shaped up his thighs quite nicely. Anyway so that’s why Celegorm is literally Elton Prince. ONTO CURUFIN WHICH SHOULD BE SHORTER.

Curufin is named “Curufin the Crafty” in the book, and he “inherited most his father’s skill of hand”. He’s also his dad’s favorite son because they bave such similar interests (and temperament?), to the point that Fëanor gave Curufin the same father name he had, which is Curufinwë. Not a set up for daddy issues later in life, I’m sure.

Since Fëanor was such a renowned Thing Maker and toiled often in the forge, and since Curufin was said to inherit dad’s skill, you could probably assume that he also spent many long hours in the forge hammering away at whatever. And all that hammering (not the sexy kind sadly), on top of Hot Dad genetics, would probably mean that Curufin is also pretty hot and muscular. Personally I like to draw Curufin as being short and a little pathetic just for comedic effect but I’m sure he’s got some well formed muscles from all that hammer swinging and horse riding.

Celegorm and Curufin in fanon (and arguably even in canon even though their canon selves are a lot more grim and depressing) tend to have this almost cartoony villain bro vibes? They also tried to usurp their cousin’s kingdom city together, which was what I quoted in that other post of yours. This comic illustrates the more lighthearted version of their dynamic extremely well because in book canon… let’s just leave it at they’re criminals LOL.

Other cunty depictions of Celegorm and Curufin which will describe their dynamic way better than my words can.

This from the Lay of Leithian Rock Opera

Another one for good measure

Guys come on now

I’m sorry i’m looking at their VK page

Here Curufin reached for the crown and Celegorm moved it out of his way COME ON

They’re so fucking extra

Basically they’re like Jesse and James but a thousand times more evil but they have that vibe. Think funny, bantery, sometimes a little comically stupid (assuming you’re not putting them in book situations then they get real nasty real fast). Which means they’re the WWE bros. I hope this makes sense

[rayassecretlife]

pleaaase can we have some virginboy Rotxo, extremely horny but clueless to the whole shabang ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

- nothing too smutty, ‘just the tip’ action

- kind of want to read him slowly losing himself over it , brink of crisis bc pussy is just THAT good , even if it’s just the tip

- “ thank you great mother “ , “ oh eywa “ 😫 I just looove Rotxo sm, he is the cutest

please write this, if it isnt too much to ask 🤍

Soooo I’m gonna try this but I can’t promise it’ll be the best just because I never write for Roxto and depending on who I’m writing for is like how good it’ll be or feel if that makes sense. I put my own little twist on it but not really a twist, kind of just him being clueless to everything. But enjoy this!! Very short, couldn’t find the best plot for this so it’s kind of straight forward.

Listen to my voice

Pairing: Aged up!19 year old Roxto x Fem!Metkayina!reader

Warning(s): Praise kink, Mature language, oral play, unprotected p in v, etc.

“Y/N… it hurts…” You frowned at the boy under you, watching his body squirm in your grasp. Poor boy, he had no idea what was going on—no idea he had been entering his first rut. You were somewhat confused that he didn’t understand anything, seeing as he was 19 and had a few girls he’d talked to before. “Why do i feel—what is—eywa, make it stop!” He was frantic, scared of the pain that built up into his body. It was new and very, very strong.

“Tam, Tam, Sweet boy. I’ll help you” Your soft voice somewhat soothes the boy as you sit against his thighs, fingertips running down his heaving chest. He was so nervous, watching your every move as your hand made its way to his loincloth. “This has never happened to you?”

“O-once… but I slept it off because I didn’t know what to do with it” You pout. He was so cute. So innocent under you, practically letting you do whatever you wanted as long as you took this pain from him. His parents always had been strict, but you didn’t realize how bad it had been till now. Their son was almost 20 and never even got himself off.

“I’m gonna remove this, okay?” Your fingers tug at his loincloth and he nods desperately, begging you to continue your actions quicker. Your eyes that had once been on his, were now looking down at the hardness under you, cock pressing between the two of your bodies. “Aw, baby. Your dripping” A soft whimper escapes his throat while your thumb runs along his blueish-green tip, beads of pre seeping out every time.

“Eywa—I-I-“

“Tìmweypey, Ro. I’ve got you” your hand strokes his hair, calming his nerves and slowly rutting hips against your touch. He was a whimpering mess under you, this feeling being one of the weirdest he’s ever felt. He barely had control, no choice but to submit to your words while you continue to tease him. “I think you need something better” You hum, head leaning down to plant small kisses up his jawline. You felt the wave of hormones rush through your body and you could tell you had been soaked, feeling the wet patch under you that began to form onto his thigh.

“Please, Y/N. Please, make it stop” He practically cries as you attached your lips to his neck, leaving a series of dark and wet love marks everywhere you could. You wanted everyone to know you did this to him—for his parents to know he’s not so innocent anymore.

“Follow my lead, okay, Pretty boy?” You place a small kiss to his lips before leaning back, your hand pulling him with you till your back pressed against the sand. He was still barely holding on above you, waiting for your next step so desperately it made you feel bad. “Come on, Baby. I know you can figure it out—your a smart boy” It takes him awhile to finally look down between you two, seeing how his length dropped down onto your abdomen. He gave you a concerned look but you only nodded, rubbing his shoulder to comfort his heavy breathing. “You got it, Just feel it”

You took his length in your palm, watching his eyes squeeze shut but you quickly called to him, free hand cupping his cheek with a small smile. “I don’t…I don’t know how-“ You urge him to take himself from your grasp, now holding his fully erect hard-on in his shaking hands. He studied your cunt from the view he was in, slowly rubbing his tip to your cunt for just a second. “I…” a soft gasp left his mouth and you giggle, coaching him to move forward.

“Just the tip today, okay? Does that sound like a plan, sweet boy?” Your words were so gentle against his ear, stroking his back with your fingertips as he hesitated to push into you. “It’ll feel better, I promise” you sooth and he opens his eyes to look at you, nodding his head before looking between you once again, watching as he slowly but surely lined himself up to your entrance.

“Y/N, I—Mmph!” You let out a shaky breath at his whimper, turning you on more then before. He slowly pushed inside you, only till a small bit further more from his tip. Even then, you felt full, just listening to him above you was more then enough to get off. “Eywa—Oh Eywa, feels s’good” Your teeth dig into your bottom lip, nails threatening to scratch his shoulders. He was trying his hardest not to lose himself, not to try and fuck you senseless.

“Mmm, told you. Feel better?” You don’t receive a response, just another small grunt leaving his throat. He hadn’t even moved yet, only stilling just a tips lengths inside you but still losing his mind at the feeling. Your walls were squeezing him so tight, milking his pre into your seeping cunt. “So cute, such a good boy” Another whimper and you were sure it was enough to make you feral. He was so adorable.

“Great mother—baby” You shush him, fingers running through his hair as he hid his face between your neck. You could now hear his sounds so clearly, each one making you more and more wet. “Want to go deeper… please let me go deeper” You blush at his begging tone but shook your head, placing one small kiss to the side of his head.

“Not today, Pretty boy. Can feel you twitching. Gonna come already? Aw, baby. For me? That quick?” You taunt and he cries out, fingers digging into the sand beside you. He wanted to kick himself for waiting so long to do this, for waiting so long to do anything at all. Because this? It felt unreal. Your cunt was Heaven around him—so wet he could’ve slipped right out and your walls were firmly tight around him, almost like you’d been afraid to let him go. “Such a good boy, begging for me?”

The tips of his ears burned with heat as his tail waged, your praising words doing unspeakable things to him. “Mmm! Please just let me…” you dismiss his request once again, earning more whimpers and whines from them. You wanted to tease him, but he was hurting, and you hated to watch him like that. “Please let me…!”

“Doing so good, just listen to my voice, okay? One step at a time, Sweet boy”

This was so bad, I’m literally falling asleep Lmao. Thanks for requesting! And reading!! Usually this would be a long writing but I got a little lazy because it wasn’t something I’m used to.

Please don’t forget to check out my masters list and request! I loveeee requests and I’m sorry to the requester of this because it’s very short but this is kind of just a hold you over since my Neteyam shorts are moving slow.

[sommerregenjuniluft]

@wolfstarmicrofic august 21 — Ice Cream — 1.5k words — this one's for @appreciatedmoron because if bea wants wolfstar microfic bea gets wolfstar microfic<3

“Dad,” Teddy shrieks in his ear, starting to wildly trash in the fragile hold against Remus’ boney hip, “Dad, look! There’s the Ice Cream van!”

Remus sighs, internally cursing his choice of parking spot. He’s only just taken Teddy out of the car seat. 

He’d hoped to make the Gelato trip back from the beach, not the other way ‘round. But that’s the thing with kids, one mention is nearly a promise and Teddy is five which means he’s relentless on a good day and Remus more often than not doesn’t have the backbone nerve to argue.

“Blue, blue, blue, bl—” 

“Yes, yeah, Teds, goodness sake, we’re getting you,” Remus squints his eyes at what the small sign in the display says, “Blueberry Wizard.”

Teddy lets out an excited litany of giggles, trembling in Remus’ arms. He should definitely be more meticulous about his sugar intake again.

The pudgy, young woman behind the counter throws him an amused look that Remus feels himself flush at, “Um, and I’ll take a scoop of dark chocolate, please. Both in a cup.”

Remus is reaching for his wallet, looking back up only for him to experience some sort of whiplash at the flurry of pale skin and raven hair he hadn’t heard arriving.

His head pounding with the way his eyes are trying to take in everything at once. Long hair and broad shoulders under an obscenely low buttoned, thinly striped shirt. Remus counts red, yellow, blue, is pretty sure there’s a hint of white in the mix but is then distracted by the sinful display of chest. Fine dusting of dark hair and tattoos, fuck, and pecs that look like he’s either lifting weights or working with his hands and Remus is actually in serious danger of fainting right now.

What Remus, belatedly, realises—far too occupied mapping the stranger’s beauty marks on his face and the regal jut of his nose bridge—is that there’s an equally black haired but significantly more dark skinned boy crawling up the man’s length as well.

“Go on, Hazza,” the man nods his head at the array of different Gelato, voice rich and deeper than Remus had expected.

His toddler lets out a long breath, “But how do we know which ones are good?”

The way the gorgeous man’s lips twitch has Remus’ knees attempting to buckle, “Well, you could always ask for recommendations.”

The kid’s mouth forms an ‘o’, nodding importantly, and then proceeds to lean right around his adult to where Remus is standing dumbly, “Hello, which flavours are the tasty ones?”

Remus feels his mouth work uselessly, barely daring to look the other man in the face.

Thankfully, his son has no such qualms, “Hi, I’m Teddy. The blue one is my favourite.” 

The bespectacled boy follows with wary eyes as the cup gets handed over the counter and into Teddy’s little palms. 

Luckily for him, Teddy is not done yet, “And I also looove Banana,” takes a big glob on his little plastic spoon, “And strawberry, and vanilla, and—”

Remus absently puts a gentle palm against Teddy’s cheek to quiet him down, then lets him onto the ground, leaning back up to chance a glance at the stunning stranger.

Which seems to be staring back at Remus with a nearly empty expression, safe for the slightly slack jaw.

Remus scratches at the sweat-damp curls at the back of his neck uncomfortably and the man’s eyes flutter, then he blinks violently before his head shoots back to his toddler. 

“Well,” he clears his throat, licks his lips, “You do really like the banana shakes I make for you every now and then, Haz.”

The boy’s eyes glow a little, smile blooming, “A-huh.”

Grey eyes land back on Remus, fixing him in his spot, unable to move a muscle when the man moves closer towards him, “And what would you recommend, …?”

It takes a beat too long for Remus to realise he’s waiting for a name.

“Oh, Remus.”

The man flashes a glint of sharp canines through his pink lips, “Hi, Remus,” tone sickly sweet and tilting his head to look up through his lashes, “I’m Sirius.”

God have mercy, is he flirting with him?

“So, Remus,” he sets the kid, including ice cream cone, down and then props both hands on his narrow hips, nudging him with an elbow, “what do you reckon?”

“Uh, well,"Remus stutters stupidly, "I always get myself dark chocolate when it’s available,” he grimaces, confessing, “Horrible sweet tooth.”

“Yeah, it’s gotta come from somewhere, huh?” Sirius grins and nods his head down at Teddy taking a huge bite of frosty Blueberry Wizard.

Remus rubs at his flaming neck sheepishly, “Uhm, you can never go wrong with Stratiatella, I think. If you’re looking for something less hardcore.”

He has barely time to cringe at his choice of words when Sirius eyes take on a glint that, embarrassingly, has Remus cock twitching with interest in his cut off jeans shorts, “Oh, yeah, what if I’m into a bit of hardcore, though?”

Swallowing is so very hard for Remus right now. And maybe he shouldn’t have because now his mouth is awefully dry, voice hoarse when, “Well, the– the cookie flavour has some big chunks of dark chocolate chips in it.”

Sirius hums low and happy, “Sounds perfect,” and turns back to the woman behind the counter, “Another scoop of cookie in a cone, please,” throws a charming grin over his shoulder at Remus, “And I’ll be paying for our two handsome advisors as well.”

Oh. “Oh, you don’t have to, it’s—”

“Too late,” Sirius sing-songs, handing over the folded bills. And then, horrifyingly and excitingly, steps back and leans into Remus’ personal space. Takes the wallet Remus was still holding in his palm, like an idiot, it’s embarrassing, in his own hand—and Remus simply lets him!? too occupied marvelling at the clean three-day beard framing rosy lips and the flash of silver eyes through dark lashes—and leans around Remus to tuck it into his jeans’ back pocket. Murmuring into the curve of Remus’ ear, “Let a gorgeous bloke buy you an ice cream, huh, sweets?”

Remus nods dumbly, caught in his spot and then Sirius pulls back and Remus already misses the smell of expensive sunscreen, spicy cologne and shea butter conditioner that clings to his beautiful waves. 

Something tugs at the white threads of his shorts and, oh, right, his son is still there, that’s good, Remus hadn’t even— “Dad, can Harry come with us to the cove?”

Remus blinks at Teddy, entirely lost.

His son sighs irritated, apparently thinking Remus is refusing to answer due to lacking manners, so he adds, “Pleeeaaasee, please, please, please, Harry said he can already swim, his Padfoot teach- taught it to him so—” the rest of the sentence blurs into the background as Remus looks up and eventually concludes the other kid to be Harry, leaving Sirius to be Padfoot.

Which glances back at him amused, equally getting tugged at and begged, mischievous glint dancing in his eyes, raising an eyebrow in question.

Remus smiles back, “Well, it seems I couldn’t possibly do anything against this self-assigned playdate even if I tried to, Teds.”

The kids erupt into elated shrieks and Sirius and Remus shake their heads in a similar fashion as they go to pick up their beach bags and stroll after the toddlers running ahead, Teddy leading the familiar way.

“So what’s this cove, huh? Secret, special bathing spot we’re getting introduced to?” Sirius asks playfully, “Lucky us.” 

His voice is deliberately sultry, Remus knows it, and well. Fight fire with fire, right? Also, he’s simply stating the truth when he replies, “Just this secluded spot I know from when I was a teenager. Hasn’t been used in ages so I always go there to let Teddy and me run around butt-naked, away from the eyes of creeps.”

When he peeks out of the corners of his eyes, Sirius’ jaw is hanging open rather adorably again, “Please tell me you didn’t bother bringing any bathing trunks.”

Much to Sirius’ whinging, he did bring some swimming trunks. Has them even already on under the jeans, for a matter of fact.

They spread out their towels, slather the kids in sunscreen before they beg off into the pools of shallow water to build a sand castle. 

Then follows a painful 15 minutes of Sirius massaging sunscreen into his neck and back and waist and thighs and basically everywhere he can get his hands on honestly which ends with both of them being half hard and having to lay down on their front for another 15 minutes of quiet time. 

It’s a fantastic day, for both kids and adults. They end up staying longer than planned and decide getting dinner together at a small local family diner that’s been there since Remus was young.

They swap numbers before they bid goodbye, beneficial to know a bloke that knows his way around town. Better just when he’s cute, too.

Remus ends up with aching cheeks in bed that night.

Needless to say, a few weeks later when preschool starts up again, Remus takes Sirius on another beach date.

This time he fucks him into the sand, like he’s wanted to the first time around.

[bisexual-horror-fan]

Through The Heart Is The Only Way. Chapter Ten: "Getting Better All The Time." Poly!Chiffany X FEM! AFAB! Reader.

Okay! Here it is! Chapter fucking ten at long last. So I hope everyone loves this, shit is getting serious in a lot of ways. Just wait for shit to pick up after this one because it is about to go off. I’d looove to see ChatGTP do something like this but we all know that it is incapable. Either way, I adore this fic, it’s my baby, I am obsessed with it, this has some moments in it that I have had planned since the fic was in the planning stages. Masterlist for the whole series here. Shoutout to @eggsandbeer for the proofread on this and betaing it. Enjoy!

—

Rating. Somewhat NSFW. Length. 6.6K. Charles Lee Ray X Tiffany Valentine X FEM! AFAB! Reader. She/Her Pronouns. Warnings: Softness. Fluff. Mentions Of Sex. Emotional Closeness. Cunnlingus. Smoking. Drinking. Serious Emotional Developments. Mentions Of Murder. 

—

Why did the lasagna she made earlier taste even better when reheated? Was it that you were that hungry or was it the fact that Tiffany is the one currently feeding it to you while you are post sex and still in the warm sheets of her and Chucky’s bed that made it so delicious? You did not know and you did not care, you found that to be the trend when you were with them. 

“You have to show me how to make this.” You sighed with your hand over your mouth, trying to still be polite even with the bite she fed you, leaning back against the headboard of the bed.  

She is leaning against Chucky, her head on his shoulder, you take them in at this moment, they look so right next to each other, the easy physical contact between the pair is second nature. Tiffany responds to you, “Name the time and place.” 

“So you were serious about your offer before?” You inquired and she gave a questioning look before you filled in the blank, “When you said you would show me how to cook?” 

She sounded slightly confused, “I said show you some recipes but don’t you know how to cook? You made us that great dinner.” 

“Yeah, those burgers were fucking good.” Chucky affirmed with a nod and you looked away, “Welll-...I’m not that great at cooking, I know how to make like five things, I eat out and do takeout the rest of the time, I don’t have that many skills in the kitchen. But I’d really like to get better.” 

Tiffany’s hand landed on your knee, your eyes drop to the new point of touch before looking up to see that she leaned closer and said, “Oh sweetheart, c’mon we all have gaps in places, if you didn’t have someone to take the time to show you, how would you ever know?”

She was so impossibly sweet. A soft smile creeps onto your face as you respond, “You make a good point.”

“So it’s settled, I’ll show you how to cook.” 

She said it like it was the easiest thing in the world, with a casual shrug. You couldn’t wait. 

When you all did settle down for sleep it wasn’t like a typical sleepover. No talking in the dark for hours, you were all beat, their bed was comfortable, on top of that you felt so safe, you passed out between the pair of them sometime around four in the morning. You didn’t wake up until a while after noon, the start of the morning, or afternoon rather, was slow. You weren’t in a rush to get out of bed, you didn’t have anywhere to be for hours yet. Once you were all aware of being awake you managed to get even closer together. You didn’t know that being in bed like this, squished between two people could feel so fucking good, it doesn’t feel claustrophobic or uncomfortable or too hot, you just feel embarrassingly and overwhelmingly happy. 

You all move slowly. 

No real rush. You didn’t have work for hours yet, not till tonight, and intended to soak up this last bit of time with them. Chucky is brushing his teeth and you are sitting on their bed while Tiffany is perched in front of her vanity, brushing her hair and she breaks the comfortable silence to suggest, “How about we all go out for breakfast?”

Sounded perfect to you and the pleased hum of agreement that comes from the bathroom tells you that he thinks so too.

You get in your jeans and Tiffany offers you a shirt, you all get your stuff together and around a half hour later are stepping out of their apartment building into the warm sunlight. The storm is definitely over but Christ the city got dumped on hard, piles of snow everywhere, the snowplows still hadn’t caught up even though it is almost one p.m. There was, of course, only one option of where to go to eat. 

The diner you love, the one near your work, that same one that you ran into them that rainy night and they invited you to stay and talk. It wasn’t busy at the moment, you end up in that same booth, both of them on the other side and you across from them just like before, you had the coats piled on the seat next to you, menus in hand and coffee in mugs, more awake as you talk about what to get. You know you look a bit ridiculous, the smile just will not leave your face but you are too happy to care. 

You think you might have ordered a little too much, the table is practically covered between the plates of food, mugs of coffee and glasses of juice. You wanted sweet but also craved something more savoury so compromise was made. You all got your own more traditional meals, bacon, eggs, hash browns but got a big plate of the small stack of pancakes to split. 

The mood is light and seemingly brightening, Chucky doesn’t seem like much of a morning person but with coffee and food he seems to be much more present, Tiffany also seems to be in better spirits. They both got their eggs the same way as that previous night, his over easy, hers scrambled with chives, she prefers white toast, he takes rye and you like learning all these small details that help make them, them. The tiny things that they like and dislike, that you come to know through spending ample time with someone or in their case, someone’s.

“So what are the best pancakes?” You asked as you were cutting into the one you’d just hauled onto your plate, and Chucky answers easily, “Chocolate chip.” 

“Really?” You asked and he hums, “I don’t always want something sweet but when I crave it I want it really sweet.” 

“Fair enough and you?” The question is posed to Tiff and she says, “Plain jane, butter and syrup is enough.” 

You told her with a smile, “Weak answer. I expected better of you.” 

She quirked a brow at your teasing, responding with, “Yet we got the plain and you’re busting my balls.”  And you tell her, “Blueberry is clearly the best, when the berries are in season it is divine but sadly, tragically they are-”

“Out of season, yeah I get you. So you’re stuck with subpar cakes, how terrible.” She reaches across the table and holds your hand and you sigh, “Right? I am so hard done by.” 

Chucky was cutting into his eggs as he said with a smile, “Poor thing. You should kiss that frown right off her face.” 

If only you weren’t in public then she could, she lets go of your hand and picks up her knife and fork again. 

“I am shocked he doesn’t pull that card more often.” Tiffany said and you responded before you take a sip of your coffee, “I think it might get worse now that he’s fucked me.” 

“Think?” Tiffany questioned and you laughed and he glanced around as he said, “Ignoring how mean you both are to me-” once sure no one in the place was looking or listening he was leaning closer over the table and he said quieter, “-how fun was last night?”

“Oh my God.” Tiffany put down her silverware a little too loudly and you nearly dropped your mug at the flood of memories as well as how candid he was being, your response leaves you hushed and quickly as you reply, “Unreal. I am pretty sure if we filmed and tried to sell it we might never have to work again.” 

“Wow one time in and she’s ready to be a porn star, you know how to pick em Chucky.” He fires back at her, “Like you weren’t loving seeing her and I fuck.” 

“Oh no I was very, very into it.” She admitted and you bite your bottom lip for a moment and nod, “Yeah Tiff we both felt how wet you were, we know.”  

This was great. Being able to go out and quietly but openly talk about how great the sex you had with them last night in hushed tones over plates of bacon and eggs is fantastic, it’s needed and thoroughly exciting.

You paid for breakfast since Tiffany made dinner last night and you all end up outside the place saying good-bye. They were lighting up for their first smoke of the day, post meal, and Chucky said on an exhale of smoke, “Great time last night, can’t wait to do it again.” 

“Me either. Wish we could keep hanging out but I have to go return these tapes and do some stuff before work.” You explained and Tiffany waved you off, “No worries, we’ll see you soon. I’ll get that shirt back from you one way or another.” 

“You’ll have to steal it off my back.” You tell her with a wave. 

“Tempting, tempting.” Tiffany said and Chucky chimed in and you hear him asking her as you break off, “I get a front row seat, right?” 

You laugh with a shake of your head as you head into the opposite direction, you return those video tapes, you have a shower, get ready for work and have as good a shift as you can.

Things with them just got so much better, it really felt like that sleepover brought you much closer together. 

They visit you more often at work again, you have dates here and there. You have planned dates and short spur of the moments that you carve out in busy schedules to show how important you all are to each other as well as being able to just satisfy those needs to spend time together. Some of these dates included more dinners out, grabbing coffee, another movie here and there and of course, enjoying the new expanded physical aspects of your relationship immensely. 

You are happier than you thought possible, you didn’t think you needed a serious romantic attachment like this, assumed you were content as is but this isn’t the first time that you were wrong about something. You are deep in the honeymoon period of dating them and intend on just soaking it up. 

It had been about three weeks since that first sleepover and there hadn’t been another one yet but you didn’t mind that at all, things had been a little hectic and you had seen them more than enough to make up for it. You even had some fantastic solo dates with them one on one which were really great. You loved spending time together but appreciate that you could spend time with just one of them and there were no weird feelings or jealousy. Being able to get together with just two of you was easier at times than being able to get all three of you in the same place, you are glad that you all were on the same page, if you only saw them when you could be a trio you would see them much less. 

You had that solo date with Tiffany about a week and a half after your sleepover. She and Chucky had stopped by your work for a drink and after you set down her glass she took your hand before you could pull it away and said, “I love your nails. Where do you get them done?” 

The current colour was a good one, you had painted them this adorably soft glittery kind of blush pink, nail ends longer and rounded, they were shiny and bright. You painted them last week and liked how they looked against the darker uniforms you usually wore for work along with the harsher make-up, the dichotomy was fun. “I paint them myself.”

Her jaw drops, she brings your hand up closer, inspecting your fingers more carefully and said, “No way! These are like salon quality! Like I thought this was a professional manicure.” 

You respond to her, smiling warmly, “Tiffany, Jesus that is so sweet, you mean it?” 

“I do! You totally have to do mine!” Her eyes were bright, her smile big and her hands felt so soft as they held yours, you tell her, “I’d love to.” 

So a date was made that night. Chucky encouraged it heavily since he had something to do and the next day Tiffany was coming to your apartment after lunch for a little spa date in. You let her in and soon you are sitting at the kitchen table, nail kit out, radio on and she sat with you as you began to scrub the old colour off her nails, “This is so nice, I was going to go pay for a manicure this week but now you are saving me some money.” 

“About time after how much you and Chuck spend on me.” You tease as you remove the deep purple and she asks, “So where did you learn to do this?”

“Self taught. I love having nice nails, I think it makes a good impression, I love how they make me feel, so I thought instead of spending money I thought why not do it myself?” 

“I love that.” She said it so sincerely and this was lovely. Having her alone in your place, doing one of your favourite things, is there a better way to spend an afternoon? She leaned over, she kissed you and your fingers stopped working for a moment as you returned it, leaning over, kissing her deeper, revelling in it before she moved back, breaking it. You have her nails clean and you are shaping them with a nail file and asked, “What colour are you thinking of?”

“I am considering black.” You hummed, you thought of her with sharp shiny onyx nails and it is a good look, you nod and agree with her, “I think that would look great.” 

You focused on filing and a comfortable silence fell over you both. Your mind however was still whirring and running, you had been getting into this habit ever since that sleepover, you started to feel more comfortable overall and would ask them questions about the relationship Chucky and Tiffany had before you were in the picture. The questions were small and quick, posing them to her or him on occasion when they pop up, “When did you get together?” “What is the first meal you cooked for Chucky?” “How did you bond so quickly?”

You got satisfactory answers and they found it sweet you wanted to know, it had gotten to a point they were offering up some information on their own. Which led to this, to now, a break in the conversation, with you starting up the conversation by asking quietly, “Is there anything about Chuck you don’t know?”

“Oh I dunno, he has told me a lot but I don’t think I know everything, you however, still have so much to learn.” She muses and you ask with a small smile, “Yeah? Like what?

Her grin nearly splits her face, eyes full of mischief, she asks, “Are you trying to get me to tell all his secrets?”

“No, God no, not all of them, Tiff.” You tell her before asking, “How about you just start by telling me one?”

“Just one?” She asks and you nod, “Just one.”

“How am I supposed to pick?” She muses and you cut in, “How about your favourite one?” 

The look in her eyes shifts, she says, “I can do that.” She thinks, takes a moment and hums and then she says, “I got just the one.”

“Ooh this’ll be good.” You say mostly to yourself and she says, “You have no idea how good.” 

You finished filing, you were cleaning up and preparing to start painting her nails, “Well don’t keep me in suspense forever hon.” 

“I won’t! I’m just building tension.” She assures and after another beat she tells you, “He loves art.” 

That makes your eyebrows raise, “He loves art?”

“Loves it, more than that he is an artist himself, a painter mostly.” She says it so sincerely and you just have to believe her but still you question, “What does he paint?”

“Portraits, abstract, still life, fuck, almost anything and everything that strikes him just right.” She says and you say, genuinely surprised, “No fucking way.”

You love that, appreciate the fact she shared something so personal. “And how is he gonna feel about you sharing that?”

“He might not be the biggest fan but it will come out eventually, plus, I bet he will ultimately end up thanking me for it.”

“So confident.” You sigh as you shake the bottle of polish, she asks you, “Can you blame me?” 

“I can not.” You unscrew the cap of the polish and take her hand, and you say as you bring the brush down, “You know, I’m something of a painter myself.” 

She laughed, head tipping back as you start to paint, “Yeah you bring that up to him and I am sure he will find that hysterical.” 

Your conversation continues as you work, she tells you in soft tones about sweet things he had done, times he got her gifts, dates they had, intimate dinners, moments of tenderness and closeness and it makes you ache. You love what they have and adore that you get to be included and privy to this information. Your gaze moves up from painting her nails, taking in her expression as she has this heart wrenching gorgeous smile on her face, telling you about the time he managed to get her a reservation for a truly wonderful birthday dinner for her.

He makes her happy and that makes you happy too. 

Once they are done you are screwing the bottle top back on and telling her, “Right, they are done, tell me what you think.” 

She excitedly turned her hands over, fingers folded over to check them out up close and you watched the expression on her face shift, “Oh wow!”

“Good wow?” You ask and she scoffs, “Amazing wow.” 

You had to admit you were pretty proud of yourself. You went in really hard, sharpened the ends a touch, gave shape to her natural nails and the small slight sheen of glitter, very subtle, still didn’t go unnoticed by her. She flexed her fingers, watching how the light caught her nails at different angles and she said, “Seriously, you did it so quick too.”

True, less than an hour and her nails were good to go. “Now be careful with what you touch, they still need to dry properly.” 

“Terrible. I want to touch you.” That makes you pause from cleaning up your nail kit, your eyes flick to her and say carefully, “Well I guess you will have to wait.” 

She gets off her chair, starts to come around the table as she says, “Orrrr I could just not use my hands.” 

Now in front of you, bent at the waist, she kisses you and you return it easily before she starts to move, lips drag from your mouth to over the line of your jaw and down your neck. Head tipping back, you moan her name quietly at the affection, the quickness of the arousal sinking in, the heat she makes spark inside of you. Soon she is on her knees after having worked down your body, she is between your legs, cheek resting on your inner thigh and you got her hint. 

You assist her, strip what is needed and all too quickly you have a leg over one of her shoulders, her mouth working eagerly between your thighs and her hands holding yours, fingers laced together, showing off her pretty new manicure thanks to you. She is holding your hands for a few reasons, one, the added affection and closeness, and another, to keep her good and your hard work safe, otherwise she doubts she would be able to stop herself from touching you.

By the time she is leaving you are on cloud nine. The afternoon once her nails were dry and you both had cum at least twice you spent more time doing your little at home spa date, face masks and a shared bath and more, you feel relaxed and boneless as you lean against the door frame, clad in just a robe as you waved goodbye to her. 

You could get very, very used to solo dates with her, it was different than when you dated both of them at the same time but you liked the up close and personal look you got at her, how she acted just alone with you when he wasn’t there. 

Similarly when you were alone with him it was different but welcome. One night, a few days after your solo date with Tiffany, while you were at work he came in, she was apparently busy that night, he came by for some quality time, it was nice. When the place closed down, your duties finished and you managed to wiggle away from your coworkers you seek him out. He was waiting outside for you, a block over right where you told him to. He was leaning against the brick outside of a building, having a smoke and upon seeing you again he lights up, “There she is! Hey baby.”

You come up with a greeting of, “Hiya Chuck.” 

His hand that isn’t holding his smoke is gripping your hand and tugging you to him, he kisses you, it’s playful, you feel him smile against your lips and you return his kiss before pulling back, “Someone’s happy.” 

“I am! M’ happy and hungry too.” He was very tipsy from the drinks you’d served him, he had just thrown an arm around your shoulders and you asked him, “I could eat. So where are you thinking?”

“I dunno, you know this area well, any ideas?” He asked and you knew just the place, took him to that late night pizza place near your work you’d visited with your coworkers from time to time. 

Sitting at one of the two person tables at the back, a medium pizza to split and sodas you ask, “So you never said what is Tiffany getting up to tonight?”

“Ah nothing major, seein’ some friends of hers.” He said with a shrug. You wonder briefly if you will get to meet them and you asked, “And you didn’t want to go?”

“Nah she deserves some time alone with them and besides, I wanted to do this.” He said as he picked up a slice of pizza, “Do what?”

“This. Spend some time with you solo, Tiffany did and seemed like it was real nice.” He admitted and you asked, “She told you about it?”

“Yeah, filled me all in. Kept going on and on about how much she loved her nails.” He nodded before taking a bite, the rise of his eyebrows tattled on the fact that she told him about how she was on her knees in your kitchen. Your fingers were playing with the straw in your drink, “Did she tell you what she told me about you?”

He looks confused and asked after swallowing his current bite, “She told you somethin’ about me?” 

You figured she wouldn’t spill and you grin, “She did.” You let it hang for a moment and he said, “I hope it was good or flattering. Was it either of those things?” 

“Oh yeah I loved hearing it honestly. She told me that you like art, more than that, that you are an artist yourself.” He dropped his slice with a laugh, non greasy hand coming up to comb through his hair, “Christ Tiff, selling me out.” 

You laughed, “Awe, what? I think it’s great! Why didn’t you tell me yourself?” 

“S’ not something I talk about with just anyone, some people have given me shit over it previously, alright?” Fair enough. Again, you hid a pretty big thing and this was small in comparison. “I get that Chuck, but seriously, I’m not like them, you can talk to me about it.”

He looks you over, considering and he can’t help it, the smile comes back to his face and he sighs, “Fine, you’re right.” 

You appreciated his willingness and ability to be open with you. “How did it even come up, anyway?”

“I was asking her more stuff about you both before I came into the picture and she told me that.” 

“Is that all she said?” He asked and you told him, “No hardly, she told me about some dates you’ve had, sweet things you’ve said and done, she made you look really good.”

It is true. How she is around him, looks at him, speaks about him, makes you like him more, look at him in an even better light. “Well shit, I don’t wanna be left out, maybe I can tell you some stuff too.” 

That was a pleasant surprise. “Really? You are offering up information?” 

“I am. Maybe I’m a little too drunk but M’ in a good mood, so!” He clapped once before pointing at you, elbows resting on the table, leaning forward, “Fuck it. Ask away.” 

What to ask him? You had no idea how long this deal would be good for. Maybe he is just willing to be this open because of the amount of drinks he choked down earlier, you should take advantage of this. The idea strikes like lightning and you ask, “She told me about some dates you’ve had, but I am curious, what is your favourite one?” 

He didn’t need to think about it, he knew just which one, is he seriously going to tell you all about it? You were looking at him expectantly. Leaning closer and clearly very excited and fuck it, why not tell you? Who were you going to spill this too anyway? Cat was already out of the bag about him being into art so with that important detail divulged, the risk was nil. 

“Okay, okay, I’ll tell you. So back in New Jersey there was this old as fuck building, no one was using it for anything, no one cared about it, place was practically falling apart, right?” 

You nod along and listen as he tells you about it. This old building he talked about, the one no one gave a fuck about, he was able to do whatever he wanted with it because of that and what he decided to do with it was use it as a makeshift art studio. He’d do all his work there and spent ample time within the dilapidated walls. He’d been doing work in said building for months, the city didn’t seem in a rush to sell it or tear it down, just one of those things that fell through the cracks, he came and went as he pleased, no one bothered him and he liked it that way. 

“I met Tiff that night we told you about, where she was just so incredible I totally forgot about that other girl. We had been seeing each other for a while, and had started getting to that point of spending more nights together than not. I wanted to be in the studio that night but I also wanted to see her and I thought, you know what, fuck it? Why not bring her there.” 

He proceeded to tell you that he told her he had something to show her, brought her to the place and let her see all of it. She loved it, he talked to her about what pieces he liked best, motivations, times in his life and what was going on when he made them, what drove him to create them. Sounded like a very vulnerable conversation but you aren’t that surprised, Tiffany is a special kind of lady and they have a particular kind of bond. 

“She was looking at this series I had done, was tryna push myself by doing this set of still life and using very precise colour palettes, blah, blah, it ain’t that important but what it led to was.” 

“What did it lead to?” You were all too into the story and he could tell, he smiles and then expounds, “She asked me in that very Tiffany way of hers, I am sure you can hear it, all, ‘do you paint people?’ and I told her I have, I just hadn’t in a while, hadn’t had anyone to the studio but her.”

“Oh you fucking smooth talker. She must have eaten that up.” He shrugs but there is that cocky air about it that makes it totally clear he knows how what he said got to her. “I mean who wouldn’t?”

You certainly would have in her shoes. “So an idea struck me then, I told her why don’t I fix that?”

He didn’t have to say it, you realised it right then before he could utter the next sentence but you still listened, hanging off every word. “I offered to paint her.” 

How fucking romantic is that? You didn’t think he had it in him, even after all the sweet things Tiffany told you he did the other day. You wonder why she left this one out but you didn’t focus on it much. Just listened more as he told you the rest of it. 

“We were up all night. We ended up getting takeout, we drank, we smoked, we laughed and talked and I painted her.” 

“How was she?” You asked quietly and he imparted, “I had this bed there, this mattress I dragged into the space because sometimes I’d get so caught up working and I didn’t want to go back to my actual place, so I’d crash there. I wanted her to be comfortable, so she sat there, I had this stool and my canvas and-”

The place was going to close soon, you still had some slices left, soda’s half full, you don’t care, you ask, “And?”

It was summer. It was hot but not stiflingly so. He isn’t sure the time, it’s that time where it stops being late and the question of it being early creeps in. He can’t stop looking at her, she is not in much, the dress she wore suited the weather, straps slipped down her shoulders, hem had rode up her thighs, heels off and next to the empty and overturned bottle of wine at the foot of the mattress. She wore a smile, cigarette between her fingers, blonde hair piled up and out of her face except for the few small bits framing it. She was stunning, a perfect subject really, all curves and kept him engaged in conversation while he worked. She was so funny. She was telling him some story about her sister and he was making sure to keep his brush away from the canvas, and didn't want to make any mistakes so close to being down with this. His hand that wasn’t holding the brush was resting on the top of the canvas, his hair was pulled out of the way, his button up shirt was off, white tank top as well as his pants and arms sported a few paint stains. 

“And then what did she do?” He asked amusedly, and she giggled before telling him with a gesture of the cigarette in her hand, “She left! I mean fuck, would you stay after that shit? I dunno how she ever showed her face again!” 

He laughs and so does she. 

The urge of it surprises him. The laughter goes quiet. The conversation stops, falling into a comfortable silence, he is staring into her eyes and she is looking back. The space between them wasn’t much, he could reach out and touch her if he wanted to and fuck, he did want to. He speaks without thought, just tells her, honestly, “You know…Tiff I…I’ve never said this to, fuck, well anyone before but…”

“But?” She asks, a cock of her head, genuinely curious and he says it, almost as if he doesn’t believe it as the words leave his mouth, “I think I’m in love with you.” 

She leans over, the remainder of her cigarette stamped out in the ashtray, looking at him all the while, “Oh my God Chucky.”

Eyes scan his face and she takes in his body language and she says quietly, “You’re serious.” 

A nod, a somewhat nervous laugh that is more of an exhale than anything else, “I am sweetheart, I really am.” 

The tension is thick, it is quiet again, he asks, “Are you gonna leave a guy hanging here forever orrr?”

She smiles, a small laugh as she shakes her head, “Fuck, sorry, I didn’t think I had to say it, sweetface. Of course I love you.” 

Her hands reach out, the canvas is leaned carefully against the stool and he joins her on the bed. He kisses her first but she returns it fast, desperate, needy, laden with emotion and the main event of the evening, the painting, the act of creation, him the painter and her the muse, is forgotten, now both of them are consumed with expressing feelings for each other. The ceiling of the place isn’t intact, the orange light filtering in making her look even more gorgeous if that is somehow possible, as they have sex while the sun comes up, it is the most inspiring non violent experience he has ever had. 

After it is over they lie together, they smoke more, they talk and they have been on this date for over twelve hours. They go out for breakfast after, he finishes the painting at a different time, he tells you that is when things got really serious between him and Tiffany, that is when they start making plans, talking about a fresh start, moving. 

The pizza is eaten. The soda drank. The place is closed. You are on the street with him and stunned. “No wonder that is your favourite.” 

He is lighting up another smoke, he hums in acknowledgment and nods. 

After it’s lit you reach out, your hand closes his lighter, snuffing out the flame, he turns, looking down at you and you tell him, “You…Didn’t have to tell me all that but, the fact you did, it isn’t lost on me Chuck. Thank you. Really.” 

“Course. I thought you’d like to know and honestly? It felt good to share.” He has this expression, it is hard to define but it is one that you had seen look at Tiffany with previously, it says, affection and that makes you melt almost as much as the story did. 

You lean up, you kiss him, soft and sweet, when you break it, pull away you say, “I had no idea how much you loved art.”

He tries to play it off, tone very casual as he tells you, “Eh, it’s alright.” You laugh, a scoff with a roll of your eyes. You let it go. You hold hands and he walks you to the train station, you tell him, “We should go to a museum sometime.”

He squeezed your hand and told you sincerely, “Sounds fun.” 

You get home safe that night, feeling like you know them much, much better. You feel included, part of this, of what they have even before you were there by having this knowledge of how they were. A call from them a few days after brings you to dinner with them before you had to work. 

Showing up to their place dressed up, having to go start your shift sooner rather than later and happy to see them, it is a pretty usual date by all accounts. They talk you into a glass of wine, the food is lovely and you are just enjoying their company. So when the food is eaten, both of them take a hand of yours and the question of, “Will you be our girlfriend?” shocks you. 

“What?” You asked and your eyes flicked back and forth between them, hands were sweaty, you didn’t want to let go but you wanted to wipe them off on your napkin, she speaks and distracts you, “We’ve been talking a lot.”

“So much.” He nods and she says, “We’ve been doing this for a while now and we both really like you.”

You had no idea what to say. Sure you had been dating, you’d kissed and had sex and shared pieces of yourself with them that you hadn’t with anyone, they had done their own fair share of divulging but still, you thought you were just a side thing, you knew they cared but not to this level, you thought you were ultimately some fun. You were okay with that, just getting to have them in any small way was fine for now, you didn’t think about the future, didn’t think this was building towards anything serious. 

He asks, “So what do you say?”

Yet here they were, offering to bring you into the fold, actually make you a part of their relationship. They were offering it out and you felt your heart burst. Warmth floods and you tell them, “Yes, I say yes, of course. I’d love to be.” 

You kiss him first. You kiss her next. They both pull you back to their bedroom.

You are late for work that night, coming in with hair that is just a little too messy, lipstick that is smudged and legs that are just a tad too shaky and a smile that refuses to leave. There are apologies to your coworkers, a lie about the train being late and they buy it, they don’t question because you are never late. 

Losing yourself to the rhythm of work, your mind isn’t focused thought, it’s on them. Girlfriend, you are their girlfriend. You have a boyfriend and a girlfriend, you have two partners, there is no question of how this would work because so far it has been working super well. You wondered how much better things could get, what this would mean. Your mind runs back over all the times you had seen them both, especially before you got together, are you going to get to that level but not just with one person but both? God, you hoped.

You were absurdly overjoyed, so light. 

Mid-way through your shift, there is a call of your name. You turn and see Rachel, she wasn’t even supposed to be here tonight, wasn’t working, at first you smile, figuring maybe she came in for a drink. You wave but then your smile starts to fall, she looks pale, sickly, and rushing towards you frantically. She catches you, hands taking the one of yours that isn’t holding your tray, “Woah Rach, hi, what’s wrong?”

She was breathing so hard, she was talking so fast, babbling out, “I can’t believe it, I know you said not to worry and I tried not to but it felt wrong, not like I thought you were wrong but it just wasn’t right, you know?”

“Rachel, honey, please, slow down, I can’t follow you at all.” She was freaking you out. Your stomach was sinking, you were very worried about her, you’d never seen her so frazzled. She nods, sucks down a deep breath and nods before forcing herself to say slowly, “Do you remember Randall? My old regular?”

You nod as you asked, “Yeah of course hon, what about him?” 

She then says something that makes your blood run cold and feel like the floor drops out from under you, squeezing her hand as hard as she was holding yours, “The police just questioned me, he is missing, presumed dead.” 

So much for your high you were previously on. 

[isadollie]

Hi <3

I'd like to request a Haikyū!! matchup with a male character please, if that's okay. And please don't feel rushed to write it, I'm happy waiting until it's a good time for you ❤️

Name: You can call me Dee

Pronouns: She/her

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Likes: Anime, manga, video games, bubble tea, coffee, movie nights, rainy and snowy weather.

Dislikes: Rude, selfish or controlling people, horror movies, small spaces, insects socialising (especially in large crowds).

In my free time: I love watching anime and reading manga and I'm a big gamer too. I also love travelling to new places.

Aesthetics I like: Hmm, I'm not sure with this one. I guess maybe normcore? I tend to wear more casual, comfy clothes, I'm not sure what aesthetic that fits into. I also like kawaii aesthetic, but moreso in the items I have than my style, if that makes sense?

Appearance: I'm 5' 2" and I have short hair. For reference, the style is similar to Saeko's, but mine is naturally dark brown, though I like to dye it colours like dark purple or dark red. I also wear round glasses.

Personality: Very shy and quiet. I'm a big introvert, but if I become close to someone and feel comfortable around them, I open up more. I can get quite nervous and stressed out, and I am a perfectionist. I always make it my priority to try and be there as much as possible for the people I care about.

Dream birthday present: I'm really not a materialistic person at all, so I guess my dream birthday gift would be something thoughtful, something that shows the person gifting it knows me well and knows what would make me happy, like manga or merch from an anime / game I like. I hate flashy things and wouldn't want an expensive gift with no thought behind it. It's the thought that counts over the price tag for me.

Love language: Quality time (giving & receiving), acts of service (giving) and physical touch (giving & receiving, but mostly in private, and if in public, then only subtle).

Zodiac sign: Scorpio

Thank you so much 🫶🏻

— matchup —

i match you with...

Hinata Shoyo!

★ Shoyo isn't the best at playing games, but would love to try with you! however, would get super upset if he lost, and would secretly ask Kenma to give him a few lessons so that he can beat you next time lol

★ biggest hater of horror movies imo. too scared to watch one. so, he would love the fact that you also don't like them~

★ he loooves your hair!!! please let him choose what color you will dye it next and he'll be soo happy!! will brag to his friends that he chose it lol. bonus points if you let him dye your hair, but that might end in a disaster cause he never did it before

★ i kinda have a feeling he's a physical touch guy, but also only when you guys are alone. Shoyo gets flustered very easily, so pda isn't really his thing

★ he loves your caring nature, and that you're always there for him. whenever he feels like he's not good enough, or when he doesn't do well in practice, he always goes to you. he knows you always support him and won't judge him

★ two perfectionists in the room... oh boy. Hinata also has that aspect about him, especially in volleyball. he always must do better and better and better and it's a never ending cycle; therefore he understands you well

★ he doesn't mind that you're quiet and shy at all! he'll do all the talking if necessary lol

★ he only gives meaningful presents! it's not about the price, it's about the feelings and he knows it~

heyy, i'm so sorry this took so long!!!:(((

i hope you like it anyway:> your 2nd match was nishinoya or kenma!

[regulus-blacks-lover]

in for a good crying session so i’d looove to see how prompts 43 & 27 would break me :’) im thinking sirius but whatever sparks the creative juices!! thank you lovely :>

43 “i’m right here. right here with you.” 27 “you had your chance.”

reader x sirius black, 1,152 words warnings: main character death, very sad and angsty, not proofread

prompt list

a/n: oh my god i'm so sorry this turned out so sad?? i had a second idea that's still sad but no death involved if you'd prefer - but i went with the needing to cry type of vibe for now. lmk if you want a redo w these prompts lol

You and Sirius had been living in hiding together for nearly two years, on the run from Voldemort's forces. Despite the danger that lurked around every turn, it wasn't all bad. You found warm places to sleep, and when there was nowhere warm to go, you held onto each other more closely than you already did.

"Do you think things will ever go back to how they used to be?" You asked him one night, both of you laying awake, unable to sleep.

In the darkness, you could just make out the rise and fall of his chest as he contemplated your question. "I'm not sure." He said honestly. "I'd like to think so, I miss our friends, I miss our life... But I'm just not sure."

"I miss our friends too." You whispered.

Beneath the thin blanket, he grasped your hand, threading his warm fingers into your own. "I'm glad you are here with me." He said, bringing your fingers to his lips and pressing a kiss to each one.

"You're not too shabby for an end of the world companion." You said quietly.

A few days later, you were standing guard outside what you hoped was an abandoned house in a muggle neighborhood. Sirius was inside, putting up protective wards around the place. He'd always acted like an idiot at school, but at the end of the day you trusted his protective enchantments much more than your own.

You were allowing yourself to get lost in memories of the days before you'd been on the run, back when you'd had weekly dinners with your friends- back when you and Sirius had dreamed of getting married. Before your dreams became mere survival.

Suddenly you felt it. A chill in the air as all the hair on your body raised. And then he was there. Voldemort, pale and cloaked in a long black robe. He was flanked by two Death Eaters. Behind them floated three ghostly figments. Dementors.

Your stomach filled with lead. You'd barely reached for your wand when it flew out of your hand. The two Death Eaters grabbed you by either arm, dragging you towards Voldemort and the dementors.

You kicked and flailed and pushed against their grasp, but their combined strength was too much for you, especially with the hopeless pull of the dementors in the air.

Voldemort grasped your face, his unnaturally long fingers digging into your skin. "Where is he?"

He didn't have to specify who he was looking for. You already knew. Sirius. His brother, already part of Voldemort's forces. It was rumored that Voldemort longed to have control over both of the Black brothers.

You set your jaw. You wouldn't let Voldemort use you to get to Sirius.

"Where is he?" He asked again. When you still didn't answer, Voldemort sighed theatrically and released his grip on your face. The Death Eaters still held your arms tightly.

"I did try to be civil, Y/N." He said with a sigh. "Do try to remember that."

He nodded at his henchmen and they released you. For a moment, you didn't understand. But the Voldemort was pointing his wand at you and saying, "Crucio."

Your knees buckled and you fell to the pavement, writhing in pain. You fought every instinct telling you to scream or beg for mercy.

"Crucio!" The cold voice came again.

You were on your side now, hands clawing at the pavement as if you could crawl away from the pain he was inflicting on you. Tears flowed down your face and you were panting from the effort to avoid screaming.

The curse came a third time. "Crucio!"

And you couldn't hold back any longer. "Stop! Please stop it!" You screamed.

Your vision was fading in and out as pain continued to rack your body. You heard someone behind you laughing, and then the sound of a scuffle.

And then - your heart lurched. "Stop! Let her go!" Came Sirius's anguished voice. You forced yourself to look up. The Death Eaters had him by the arms. He was fighting them with every ounce of strength he had, and for a moment you thought he'd be able to break free of their grip, but then there came a sharp tug in your hair. Voldemort was pulling you upwards by their grasp your scalp. He forced you to your feet only to press the tip of his wand harshly against your throat.

Your head was forced back so all you could see was the dark sky above, but from the sound of it, Sirius had stopped fighting. "Please. Let her go. I'll do anything." He begged.

"Sirius, Sirius." Voldemort tutted. "I don't plan to ask the world of you. I just need one favor. Consider it an exchange, really. Join me, and I'll let her live. Your brother has disappointed me, see you don't do the same."

"Sirius" You whimpered, Voldemort's wand still against your neck. "Sirius, it's okay." The wand was pressed deeper into your skin as fresh tears began to spill down your face.

"No." You heard him say brokenly. "I can't– I won't–"

"It's okay." You said again.

Voldemort sniffed. "Pathetic. See how little you mean to him? I ask one favor and he can't even do it, even if it would mean saving your precious life."

The pressure at your throat lifted, but your relief was short lived as Voldemort gestured to the dementors. They swooped in on you faster than you would have believed. They were pulling you apart, eating your joy, even before Voldemort stepped away from you.

You were vaguely aware of voices beyond the hurricane of dark and cold that surrounded you.

"Please! Please stop it! I'll do anything, anything you ask!" Sirius's voice was frantic and full of desperation.

"You had your chance to save her, and you didn't. Now you must live with the consequences." Voldemort said.

You were so cold. Your hands had grown numb and your teeth were chattering uncontrollably. You were aware of your body falling to the ground, but you didn't feel the pain as you hit the pavement. And then everything went black.

"I'm right here. Right here with you." A distant voice. Familiar. Sirius. It was Sirius, and it sounded like he was crying. Why was he crying?

You couldn't see him. You couldn't see anything. You were floating away.

A sudden image flashed through your mind; Sirius, holding a broken, limp body. Holding you.

He was cradling your dead body in his arms, whispering over and over "I'm right here. Please don't leave me. Please come back."

But you couldn't. No matter how you tried, you couldn't force that living piece of yourself back into that body.

Cruel laughter sounded, but Sirius didn't pay it any mind. He just kept holding what had once been you.

"I love you." You thought, before every trace of you vanished from existence.

[fightaers]

KNOWING YOUR PARTNER WELL CAN POTENTIALLY MAKE WRITING TOGETHER A LOT EASIER.

REPOST DO NOT REBLOG !!

NAME: bellaaaaaaaaaa. bella for short

PRONOUNS : she/her but they/them if ure unsure is also coolio

PREFERENCE OF COMMUNICATION : bad on all front, but discord slightly less so

NAME OF MUSE(s) : god, i have so many. feel free to browse <3

BEST EXPERIENCE : when i first entered the animanga rpc i had a really, really good time from the get-go ngl. for a while, right until my revival in 2024, i was sort of more into the 'western / live action' side of the rp media, and i kept remembering how much of a good time i had in the animanga rpc, which triggered my interest in returning.

my other best experience is basically when i learn from my dearest mutuals then how not to be afraid to project ur muses' voices into their narration, which allowed me to have incredible fun with exercising different mindset and speech patterns and/or different dialects since!

RP PET PEEVES / DEALBREAKERS : uhhh this is pretty specific to my experience and quite particular — thus i hope to elaborate it well — but i highly dislike when writing partners tried crafting our threads into only benefiting / leveraging their own muse(s) rather than it being a collaborative effort for both our muses' character development. this happened to me only ... twice so far ? so it's quite rare considering i've been writing for ten years, but i'm suuuuper sensitive about this.

so for example right, what usually happens is me and my writing partner would talk about our muses and we see common ground and where we could expand on a point of conflict. both our muses then benefit from this point of thread because the narrative we've written ought to challenge their perspective, and this can be driven with angst, drama, whatever genre this can be explored in etc.

now what i'm pointing out specifically is when the writing partner would only try to have their own muse's emotions and challenges on the forefront of the plot, with no consideration to mine, which i think defeated the purpose of roleplaying in entirety because roleplaying especially is supposed to be a collaborative effort for all writers involved. but no, it's their muse's pain that's significant. it's only their suffering that outweighed everyone else's, and my character typically is became an "affirmation" or a "booster" to their muses' experience.

i have a few turn-off's but this one is definitely one of the highest.

MUSE PREFERENCES: oh maaaan, i've written characters from sooo many ranges. typically it's whoever tickled my brain at the moment <333 but lately i do realise i'm often drawn to

(1) outwardly soft-looking people (2) have crazy dedication value; sometimes absurdly loyal to a cause / person (3) most of the time they're brown-haired and/or dark-haired (4) a lot of them give earthy and/or green vibe

and if it's the opposite, it's either someone struggling with their temper and/or have their viewpoint challenged or exploited. don't believe me, check out my western multi as well to see where i'm ticking the boxes. ( i'm on hiatus there but still. look at the muses. )

PLOTS OR MEMES : fuuuuuuck. i'm super bad with first-time plotting not gonna lieeeee. listen, my attention span's crap. my method is usually this: we plot minimally ( usually to establish the timeline and/or where our muses stand ) and then i prefer winging the first thread, usually to gauge the pace of the writing, ur muses' thoughts and/or reactions so mine could bounce off of yours, and then i'd rain in your IM / discord to yap my way into ur heart 🫶 i looove when my mutuals would yap at me right back. i love substances, and i love context. i love knowing what my partners want to achieve or what they're satisfied / dissatisfied with so we can work around that. so yes, thread > plot > memes.

LONG OR SHORT REPLIES : wish i'm a short-replier. born a long-replier. working on making my paragraphs more concise though. that's on my 2024 writing bingo for sure!

BEST TIME TO WRITE : when i want to 💀  and i have no idea when. usually when i'm rested enough so if i'm dead tired on friday, there's a chance i'll still be ghosting the dash on saturday. i try not to........ push myself so hard on my availability, which is why it's important i stress out how i am a low-activitiy blog, because i know that even if i push myself when i don't want to, it won't work. my brain would dead-ass refuse to cooperate.

ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE(S) : i'm definitely flawed, which is something i like exploring with my muses, because i think i've tried so hard since i was 15 to be perfect. that isn't to say my characters and i share the same flaw, but unlike in real life, exploring my characters' area of weaknesses and how that can have its consequences is perhaps a catharsis for me since i could safely navigate it within a narrative i could ( somewhat ) control. it's freeing. writing has always been freeing in that sense.

tagged: @dynmghts and @ingen1um ( u sexy people muaah <3 ) tagging: @fighterbound , @bladedhunter , @kiigan , @senjufound and whoever that wants to it !!!!!

[lovecorevillain]

this might be random but do you have any headcanons of the Daltons/lucky luke cause now they are my hyperfixation and yes I've joined a pretty much dead fandom but I was to hear your thoughts.

(only if u want to ofc)

hiiii anon its been. so insanely long since ive thought abt lucky luke and the daltons rotated them in my small brain but i love looove them as a characters so very dearly to this day and id be more than happy to give u. some of my carefully thought out (brainrot induced) thoughts :]

- JOE ADHD KING. no but seriously this fucking guy is so nd and mentally ill in so many ways. hes collecting them like cool rocks (<- im nd and mentally ill (obviously) and have always related to him)

- i know the entire thing abt the daltons is how theyre only distinguished from each other when it comes to height but i love playing around w the idea that they have like. subtle differences in their appearance that you wont notice unless you squint and use a telescope. like william having heterochromia, jack having freckles and joe having beauty marks and whatnot (cant think of anything for averell when it comes to this trope sorry </3)

- aroacespec gay lucky luke is so real and true and my alltime fave sexuality hc. also a little transgenderism for him as a treat. sometimes

- adding to the former: luke telling ppl he got his diy top surgery scars from a brutal shootout

- i dont like the modern daltons cartoon (it kinda sucks) but i really really like how they characterized william in it (bookworm and man of many talents iirc) and i really like the idea of him potentially being a graduate/of higher education but sticking with his brothers out of loyalty/peer pressure (<- potential for him to be the black sheep of his family and give him more character than in the comics and the old cartoons)

- luke and joe's archnemesis relationship oh my GOD [head in hands] ive always loved the multiple layers of their dynamic and the "cool hero who loves toying with the bad guy" vs "batshit crazy unhinged small guy villain" thing they always got going on. lukejoe is so good whether its platonically or romantically or anything in between i still care them so much. funny guys who hate each other fight each other are friends are besties are outlaws kiss kill each other have repressed homosexual feelings have never had friends before killed people with no remorse and have issues. i like that in men

- t4t lukejoe is. so good. perfection

- while im a professional les daltons #hater i love that one guy who showed up for like one episode and was never brought up again except in the bg of some episodes. unlucky luke (small dark haired manloser) if youre out there...

- el gee bee tee hc lightning round:

cis bi (sometimes transmasc) joe [wtf is a pronoun i will kill you], transhet jack [he/him], nonbiney [he/him] william, unlabeled averell [he/she + any] and ofc aroace gay trans luke [he/they]. idc abt other characters enough to form opinions on them

- ill most definitely add to this later if and when i start binging the entirety of ll again but for now. thats all. come get your food lucky luke enjoyers <3 shoutout to the three of you who still enjoy this media despite its many many MANY flaws

[sharkface]

3 6 8 13 18 23

This one is under a cut because it's so long <3

3.any recurring images/elements?

Oh my god so so so many. Pretty much every character has their own giant set of symbols not so much because I just looove subtle writing that makes you think but because I find it very hard to bring up motifs in the actual text I write. The most important of them for the main three though:

Bitters: The Judge. The color red, pairs of scissors, cicadas/mosquitos, the white streaks in her hair, street signs. The pip of an apple tree. Justice and order through enforced rules.

Caz: The Jury. The color yellow, stuffed cats, matchboxes, carnivorous plants, crashed cars. Emancipation through anarchy- the law of the jungle.

Clove: The Executioner. The color white, angels, wires/machinery, any and all inescapable enclosed spaces, road crossings. Butcher's fridges. Sterile places subjected to revolting situations. Amnesty through moderation and inhibition.

6.) speaking of tv adaptations, why would yours get cancelled? (other than capitalism)

I know the interesting answer for this question is "I would get CANCELLED for my DARK THEMES and TV ACTIVISM" but honestly I'm not that ambitious or driven as a writer. I kind of just make the things I want to see. I don't think it would be appealing to a network in the first place. I think if it ever got a production contract, it would be an experimental series with a cult following and suddenly be dropped for not making enough money.

8.) what inspired your world building, if anything?

When I originally made these characters it was DIRECTLY because of my obsession with the kagerou project and higurashi. It's a lot more like the former than the latter to this day. Really, any time loop media I've been into has inspired it in some way.

13.) how long have you been working on this project? what has changed from the outset?

9 years! It's been entirely rewritten like, four times now. Some of the characters were repurposed as DND characters and then back to ocs again. Caz was originally my player character in a JJBA themed tabletop. There used to be more main characters but I only found the main 3 and Finch to be appealing enough to me to bother keeping in the story in a meaningful way, which is kind of a shame because I love some of the work I did with other characters. But this is just how writing goes.

It was originally about a group of teenagers with powers who had been repeatedly reincarnated into a world where everyone either had cat features or bird wings. This was because Bitters had been given the ability to create her "perfect world" by a pair of gods taking the form of a flock of birds and a cat after being the last person remaining on earth following a wave of disease that came after a meteor impact, and had been reborn to live in it- But her perfect world didn't pan out the way she wanted it to because she had no reasonable idea of what a "good life" would be like.

Bitters does not have godlike power anymore, lol. It was kind of flimsy as a plot altogether.

18.) what aspect of the story would get you #canceled on twitter?

Probably Clove and Caz's terrible toxic cringe "romance"(if you can call it that). People would accuse me of baiting first and then move on to saying I'm a homophobe for not making the two gay men's relationship completely domestic and healthy. The point of it is that they are badly adjusted people individually and can't foster a healthy relationship with each other just by liking each other. They also never even actually date or anything like that. Outside of the circumstances of their situation they probably wouldn't have even become friends.

23.) describe how everyones character gets butchered once in the public eye?

Caz: The kinnies will descend on him not unlike a hawk to a purse dog. The amount of angst fanart and discourse will be fucking insane. People love taking annoying anime murdertwinks who are deeply pathetic awful people by choice and pretending they are just tortured and can be fixed through romance.

Clove: People are probably going to declaw him into a shy demure "tall calm bf" while not really caring much about his personal arc and draw him in big cozy cable knit sweaters and aprons. Lots of "he's a woman to me" but ignoring him being transfem later on in the plot. That kind of thing.

Bitters: "Mom friend." People will probably not like her because she is mean and kind of unreasonably judgmental and people think it's a plot hole when characters don't behave perfectly logically at all times. She's a woman so I doubt the yaoi enjoyers of this website will even pay substantial attention to her.

[praebitorem-glaciei]

Marilla NSFW Alphabet

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Marilla is a little rushed with aftercare but mainly cause she wants to clean up as quickly as possible so the cuddles can be clean and comfy.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

She doesn't have a favourite body part on herself because she can change herself so.. easily.. talk about body issues. Anyways her favourite part on a partner is their chest though!

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Well Marilla can cum in more than just the traditional afab manner.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

She's a voyeur

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

She has a surprising amount of experience for someone who gets catfished and stood up a bunch

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

It changes every day and depending on physiology soo

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Marilla thinks it should be fun and interesting! She doesn't want it to be a serious transaction.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Uhm, also changes a lot? And no the carpet does not match, she dyes her hair constantly. But its dark and thick, very French/Latin genes.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Romantic! She'll hold your hand and praise you softly. Loooves to kiss your neck during it.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

She actually doesn't masturbate at ALL. She finds no use for it!

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Hair pulling!

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

The bath<3

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Her partner wanting her<3 She wants to be wanted, drives her crazzzzzy.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Physically hurt her s/o I'm afraid</3

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

LOVES to give. She can do some weird things with her tongue, yk, shapeshifting.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Depends on the vibe? No set thing. Very open minded.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Why not?

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

For the most part, yes! Again, why not?

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Sorcerer stamina go brrr. FOX stamina?? oh fates..

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

who needs toys when you can just manipulate your body? She has some cock rings and straps though.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Massive tease....... Heavy petting and kissing for an hour before she even slides her hands up your shirt.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Uhm. Loud lol

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

She will switch up her genitalia each time she has sex lol

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Naturally? A v v tight pussy, some nice neat hair, cute. Other times? Girldick babyyyy

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Not very, very mellow! But she'll have lots of sex if you want

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

As soon as clean up is doneeee, aftercare is cuddles and a nap