#one was a guest and one was working from home but idk what the hell the other person was doing (she did bring in my ac delivery)

[mildmayfoxe]

sooo crazy to me that as far as i can tell THREE people were home all day yesterday but i still came home to overflowing trash overflowing recycling overflowing sink of dirty dishes and an untouched clean dishwasher. like this is not a frat house. this is pathetic

[sencrose]

— LOVE ME HOW YOU LIKE ♡

pairing: okkotsu yuuta x idol!f!reader

tags: noncon, stalking, yandere, breaking in, unreliable narrator (mostly yuuta pov), aged up charas (yuuta’s in his 20s), solo male masturbation, squirting, breeding/pregnancy talk/baby trapping, multiple orgasms, overstim, cunnilingus, fingering, yuuji makes a short guest appearance in the intro lol

wc: ~8.6k (... idk how this happened)

summary: Yuuta’s oshi is a horrible enabler.

a/n: happy belated birthday yuuta! atp you can rip underground idol!reader from my cold dead hands. based off of a post i made a while ago. thank you @infinitatis-ink for beta reading :> dividers by @/adornedwithlight

ao3 link here

It’s not Yuuta’s usual scene, but he felt bad when nobody responded to Yuuji’s invitation to spend a night out in Shinjuku. In Yuuta’s defense, he thought they would maybe go to an izakaya or two, get a meal and a few drinks before heading home. However, what Yuuta was unable to predict was Yuuji deciding to go to an idol show on the fly. Yuuji was practically begging him to go, making promises that it’ll be a lot of fun. And when words don’t work, Yuuji grabs Yuuta by the wrist and leads him to the venue despite his protests.

So that’s how Yuuta finds himself in a random basement venue crowded with sweaty guys on a Saturday night. Again, not necessarily his idea of a night out. But Yuuta’s a good sport, so he’ll do his best to enjoy the show anyways.

What starts as a murmur bursts into a boisterous cheer as soon as the stage lights flash on. It’s radiant, nearly blinding. It’s not the lights that sear a black hole into his vision. No, it’s you.

In that fluffy costume that makes you look like a slice of cake personified. The way your skirt bounces exemplifies the pep in your step as you make your way around the stage. Your eyes meet his as you wave into the crowd, and he thinks he’s having a heart attack.

“Good evening everyone! We really hope you enjoy the show we have in store for you tonight!” you speak into the mic, exuding a blissful aura like it's second nature. Yuuta swears he can feel it embrace him, the first warm ray of sunlight you feel after a barren winter.

The crowd roars in response before quieting down. The silence only serves to spur the anticipation drumming throughout his body, his heart beating loudly in his ears, catching in his throat.

The instrumental starts with a sweet chiptune lead, and all hell breaks loose. The rhythmic chants and clapping nearly blow out his ear drums, and he loses Yuuji in the chaos of fans rushing closer to the stage. It’s disorienting, trying to follow along while not losing his sights on you.

He moves along with the crowd, ebbs and flows like the ocean’s waves. No matter how much he’s pushed, he’s focused on you. Once he finds his footing, it gets a bit easier. It lets him focus on other things, like learning your name through the fan chants. It’s a cute one, one he savors on his tongue whenever he yells along with the crowd as you sing.

With every step, every graceful note that spills from your lips, he can only feel himself falling deeper. It’s like you’re a siren, and him, the unfortunate sailor who’s all too willing to walk to his demise. He yells and cheers even louder in his trance, just to see if you’ll grace him with another look.

And you do.

It’s brief but you look right at him again for the second time tonight, with a dazzling smile that puts the sun to shame.

How can he keep your attention? Maybe he should’ve stopped by and bought a lightstick or two before coming in.

Song after song after song, he roots for you with a frenzied energy he didn’t know he had in him. It’s a battle against his parched throat to force the words out and really make sure you can hear him. Every time you look his way, he feels electric. It’s like static, all his hair standing on edge like he’s rubbed a balloon and your gaze is the point of contact that zaps you both.

Before he knows it, the show’s over. It’s far too soon for his liking. Even though it was Yuuji’s idea, Yuuta’s really warmed up to the whole thing–far more enthusiastically than he thought he’d ever be, so much so he’s tallying the number of times you looked his way.

Six. Six times he’s felt that electricity run through him, six times you’ve made him catch his breath and nearly choke on it. Did you feel it too? There’s no way you didn’t. He could see it in the way your eyes sparkled, in the smile that was hand-delivered to him. It’s too many times to be a coincidence.

Yuuta only manages to snap out of his trance when all the lights turn back on and Yuuji slings his arm around him.

“Sorry I lost ya earlier,” Yuuji apologizes, out of breath, presumably from dancing and chanting with the wotas, “how was it?”

“It was,” he pauses for a moment, “fun.”

“See, I told you it’d be fun!” Yuuji beams at the confession. “You wanna get chekis?”

“Chekis?”

“Yeah, like a picture with one of the girls. I already know who I’m choosing tonight!” Yuuji pats Yuuta on the back, a friendly gesture Yuuta returns in kind. “But since you don’t know the members, you can just choose a color. Doesn’t really matter.”

It doesn’t really matter, he said, but it really does. Because if Yuuta chose differently he never would have been able to meet you.

So once he gets to the front of the line, he points at the laminated picture of you.

It shouldn’t be this overwhelming. Idols are normal people too. It’s a lot more obvious with underground idols, in the dingy live venues they book, in the way they stumble over their words on stage or occasionally forget a dance move or lyric. There’s appeal in the imperfect, a diamond in the rough.

But that’s the thing, you still shine bright, blindingly so.

As Yuuta walks up to you, his nerves only get worse. His senses are running on overdrive taking you in, in all your ruffly glory. Something sweet and floral hits his nostrils as he breathes in. He didn’t consider you’d be wearing perfume. It’s the right amount – just enough to whet the palate and bite his tongue in fear of saying something wrong.

He thinks he’s seeing things when he’s barely an arms width away from you, and everything about you seems to sparkle.

You look giddy when he gets up to you, a large smile plastered on your face with open arms as if you’re reuniting with an old friend.

Is he supposed to hug you?

While he hesitates, you’re quick to close the distance, wrapping your arms around his waist. Yuuta carefully does the same to you, doing his best to not implode on the spot. When you let go, he’s flushed in the face and has to think about something else to calm himself down.

“Ah! I haven’t seen you around,” you ask with your hands behind your back and eyes wandering like you’re examining him, “you’re new here, aren’t you?”

“Y-Yeah, you could say that,” he says. The room feels ten degrees hotter.

“What’s your name?”

“Yuuta.”

“Yuuta…” you repeat carefully, as if you’re tasting it on your lips, “Cute name for a cute guy. Is it ok if I call you Yuu-tan?” You look at him with this doe-eyed expression that makes his chest taut.

When you say it like that, with your eyes glimmering under the stage lights, how could he say no? Yuuta’s stumbling over his words, babbling like an idiot before he’s finally able to get out a meek, “sure.”

You seem to like that, your face lighting up with pure glee.

“Alright Yuu-tan, what kind of pose did you have in mind?”

He absolutely did not think this far ahead. He has to tell himself to calm down, breathe in, breathe out, before asking, “what kind of poses do you usually do?”

“Mmm… Hearts are pretty common I’d say.” You gently grab his hand and the softness of your skin triggers alarm bells in his head. He’s in danger. “But since it’s your first time, how about we do something special?”

You say it in a way that has him blushing harder – first times.

“S-special?” he repeats.

Carefully, you wrap your arms around his waist. Softer than when you first grabbed him. Like there’s a gentle affection weaved within your embrace.

Your face is pressed against his chest. It’s enough for his breathing to shorten, to be far too aware of the pressure you place on him.

With an innocent pout you look at him, softly reassuring him, “Just pretend I’m like your girlfriend or something.”

You’re close–too close. And this whole situation is just too much for him. There’s no escape from you–your smell, your warmth, the softness of your skin.

“Do you have a girlfriend, Yuu-tan?” you ask, leaning into him more.

Did he hear you right? Every time you talk it feels like you do so with the express purpose of stealing the air from his lungs. But still, there’s no way that’s what you asked him. Right?

“Huh?”

“I said,” you purr into his ear before repeating your question, “do you have a girlfriend, Yuu-tan?”

So, he did hear you right. Now he’s scrambling again for an answer, blood pumping so hard he can hear it steadily pulsing in his ears.

“N-No.”

“Then you can think of me as yours!” you exclaim, far too easily. It echoes like a clocktower’s bell at noon. If he listens close enough, he swears he can hear the notes of a wedding march.

The only anchor that can bring him back down to Earth is a tug on his shirt, a whisper of your touch against his chest. When his eyes meet yours, he’s starstruck. The glitter around your eyes only serves to make his heart beat faster, how it sparkles and makes you look even sweeter.

“Alright, look at the camera for me, okay?”

So he does. You get in position too, soft lips pressing against his flushed cheek. It happens too quickly for him to react, and with a countdown from three and a flash, the picture’s taken.

You’re quick to sign the polaroid, and Yuuta can barely get a look at what you’re writing before you finish.

“Hold it carefully, ok? The ink can smudge,” you instruct him, gently passing over the picture. “And don’t shake it! The whole shake it like a polaroid thing is a myth.”

He silently takes the picture in his hand, carefully taking it in. You’re able to fit a decent amount on the picture. In the top left corner, “To my beloved Yuu-tan,” and in the bottom right, “Thank you for coming!”

“I hope you’ll come back again,” you say sheepishly, a bit like a girl who just confessed to their crush on the school rooftop.

“O-Of course!” Yuuta’s practically forcing the words out of his words, doing his best not to choke.

“Pinky promise?” You lay out your pinky for him, waiting expectantly. Yuuta, on the other hand, is struggling to recollect himself.

“Mmhm.” He brings his pinky over to yours, and you wrap around each other’s fingers. Yuuta thinks it’s just that until you bring your hand back to kiss your thumb.

“Seal it with a kiss?” you ask with an innocent smile.

“Huh?”

You don’t repeat yourself, simply look at him in a way that makes his cheeks red. After a moment, Yuuta repeats the motion, nearly shaking as he brings both of your hands closer to his lips before kissing his thumb.

By the time he finds the courage to look you in the eyes, he’s sure there’s steam coming out of his ears. His gaze shifts down, but darts back up as soon as he hears you giggle.

“You promised! No take-backsies. I don’t like broken promises.” You pout before breaking back into that picture perfect smile of yours. “Thanks for coming by, Yuu-tan!”

– The post concert dress down is the same as usual. Struggling to get out of polyester costumes clinging to your skin from sweat, doing your best to fold your ruffled layered skirt into a manageable mass and failing the first couple of times. It’s a routine you’ve gotten used to.

What you’re not used to, is receiving a warning from one of your groupmates.

“Hey.” Your group leader stands over you as you attempt to continue packing your costume away. “You've gotta be a bit more careful.”

You look up at her with a raised brow, taking in her disappointed expression. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” she relents, her tone becoming more annoyed than disappointed.

So this is what you think it’s about. But it really isn’t any of her concern. You haven’t had any problems until now, so what’s the harm in continuing? If anything, she should be grateful. If you were to crunch the numbers, you’re sure you bring in a decent amount of fans by playing up the girlfriend experience schtick. And not just any type of fans – devoted ones. Those that return to night after night to spend a minute of their time with you. Those that would empty out their wallets at a snap of your fingers.

If you were to be honest with yourself, you like the power you hold. There’s a thrill that rushes to your head when your fans are stumbling over their words, stringing along a response for the sole purpose of pleasing you. But there’s no way you’d ever admit that to her. She just wouldn’t get it.

You let out a deep sigh. “It’s fine! This type of crowd is harmless. I’m just trying to do my job, you know.”

“You’re going to attract some crazies if you keep going down this path.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You shrug her off as you finally fit your costume into your luggage, swiftly zipping it close before it has the chance to recoil.

“Hey.” She grasps your shoulder to grab your attention. “Listen, I’m being serious,” she says, and there’s a genuine tinge of concern in her voice.

“Me too. I’m making us money. Good money. And if it means I have to bat my lashes and put on an act, then that’s what it is.”

She sighs, defeated. “Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

–

In the days after the concert, Yuuta falls into a rabbit hole. It’s just too easy – your group is pretty active on social media, trying and promoting just about anything that’ll stick. It starts simple enough with a livestream here and there. Just listening to you talk makes his heart all warm and fuzzy.

The longer he lurks and follows, the more he realizes just how many opportunities there are to take you in. You being an underground idol works in his favor. Desperation’s the name of the game, with you selling just about anything you can get your likeness on – signed polaroids, acrylic standees, can buttons, the list goes on.

Eventually, he’ll put in orders for those as well, but none of them replace the sensation of holding your hand in person, of your soft lips against his face.

At the end of the day, there’s no way you can’t see his devotion towards you. At this point he knows everything there is to know about you–through the selfies you post online, the memes you retweet, even the daily blog post where you write about your day.

There’s more than that as well. There’s an inherent intimacy he feels in the single shot chekis he orders as soon as the shop link drops on Twitter, in the comments he leaves on your livestreams, with the username you unknowingly gave him.

And in the short weeks he’s been following your account, he’s greeted with a rare chance encounter. A custom video, made by you, just for him. And though the price is probably hefty for what it is, he’s quick to seize the opportunity.

Sure, he’s burning a hole in his wallet. But how can he complain? When he can hear your sweet voice again, talking to him like he’s the only one in the room. It’s the closest thing he can get to seeing you for now. Things have just been so busy these days. He wonders how other sorcerers play the balancing act between dating and work.

But just a couple weeks later he gets an e-mail. He nearly jumps in his seat in his room when he sees the e-mail notification with the subject line “to my beloved yuu-tan~”.

His phone comes alive with you in frame, sitting in something different from your usual stage costume. Something cute, something that sends butterflies to his stomach and a blush to his cheeks. A comfy sweater that seems just a little bit too big for you, along with a matching skirt. The hem dangerously brushes against your upper thighs, and he has to make a considerable effort to draw his gaze back to your eyes.

The background is a simple white backdrop, and judging from the lighting situation, it’s probably something you filmed in your room. You’re filming this. In your room. Just for him. The thought is enough to make his heart race.

“Is this on?” Your finger taps on to the camera, face getting closer to the lens before moving back. Even when you’re clueless, you’re adorable. “Ah, it is.”

“Yuu-tan! Thanks for supporting me so much as you always have!~” Your voice is bright as always. The way your nickname for him dances on your tongue feels like a salve for even the most mortal of wounds.

“Your support is number one in my heart, you know. But Yuu-tan…”You drag out his name in a way that’s too much for him, and the way you pout up at the camera? This has to be attempted murder, he thinks. But he continues listening attentively. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you. I miss you, I really do.” Your voice pulls on his heartstrings and makes him ridden with guilt. It genuinely pains him to hear you like this, his chest tightening at the sound. But then your voice lightens up, your expression brightens with the next words that slip past your lips, “you’ll come to the next show, won’t you?”

Yuuta finds himself nodding at his phone, as if you’ll be able to see his response if he’s enthusiastic enough. Yet, it’s as if you knew exactly how he’d reply.

“Alright, I’ll see you there then! This is a promise.” You lift your pinky up to the camera before pulling it back. “Oh wait, I don’t think I can do this through the camera, haha. Guess you’ll just have to finish it in person! Bye bye!” you sign off, and the video ends there, paused on your angelic smile.

Yuuta nearly breaks his phone replaying the video over and over again. It’s surprising the image of you hasn’t been burned onto his screen. But there’s one part in particular that’s his favorite.

It’s when you pout and disarmingly look up at the camera. Bat your eyelashes in just the right way to make him pitch a tent in his pants. That combined with the way you say his name, it’s no surprise the next thing he does is frantically search for the bottle of lube in one of his drawers.

What happens next, there’s no way you can fault him for it. All he can think about is how cute you are as he dispenses lube on to his right hand and unzips his pants with his left. Once his cock’s free, he groans as he palms himself, daydreaming about how you’d hold him. His other hand finds his phone, repeatedly going back to the same timestamp where you’re practically moaning for him.

He finds a rhythm, fast. Not just for jerking off, but looping your voice in a way that makes him light-headed. It just adds another layer to the image of you playing in his head. If he times it just right, he can pretend that slick wet sound of him fucking his hand is your sweet pussy instead. His pace gets faster, thinking about the other kinds of sounds he could wring from you.

You would moan so sweetly for him. He’d do everything in his power to make sure of it. He’s far from a selfish lover. He’d be sure to prep you beforehand, his hands tracing the curve of your body before delving into your underwear. Start a bit slow, teasing you into asking for more as he plays with your clit. He wonders what kind of expression you’d wear.

Maybe you’d be a bit shy. Maybe you’d be needy, desperate to ask him for more. Whatever’s the case it doesn’t matter, as long as he gets to hear your sweet voice.

Once he’s tested the waters he’d go faster, and he thinks about the heave of your chest, the short breaths you’d give him as you’re getting closer. Would you call him by his real name, or the nickname you’ve given him? He doesn’t really mind either way, but part of him hopes for the former. Regardless, the mental image of you cumming on his fingers along with your voice played on loop is enough to send him over the edge with a choked moan, hot ropes of his seed spilling from his slit. Yuuta’s body nearly gives out as he relaxes back into his chair, exhausted and out of breath.

“Alright, I’ll see you there then! This is a promise!” Your voice plays again through his phone as he finally comes down from his high.

So he steels himself. Tells himself that it doesn’t matter what the occasion is, he’ll make sure to go to the next live show, the one after, and the one after that. It’s a promise, after all.

—

The next time Yuuta goes to see you, he’s a bit more prepared. At least, that’s what he likes to tell himself.

In reality, he’s still just as nervous as the first time. While the video was nice, it just doesn’t hold a light to seeing you in person. Getting a waft of that sweet, floral perfume of yours as he approaches you, relishing at how the smell of the live venue just seems to disappear in your presence. Then there’s the ball that forms in his throat that he can’t swallow as he gets closer.

You light up as soon as you see him, star-bright.

“Yuu-tan!” you shuffle up to him with your arms outstretched for a hug, “I missed you!”

“I missed you too,” he says, and it feels like a weight’s been lifted off his chest. He brings you in closer, but feels a bit self conscious when he realizes just how tight you’re holding on to him. Tight enough that he can feel the curve of your tits pressed against him. Then he finds himself panicking and letting go.

“Did you have a good time at the show?” you ask, seemingly unphased by his internal plight.

”I did, I did,” he replies, nodding a bit too enthusiastically.

“I’m so happy you remembered our promise.”

”O-Of course.”

“What kind of pose did you want today?” Your expression softens as you put your hands behind your back and bend slightly, look up at him doe-eyed and curious.

After all he put into coming to the show, he’s stunned into silence. He had one in mind, but the idea simply melted as soon as he saw you. He can’t help it, it’s just what you do to him. He’s sure he’s making a fool out of himself again, and can feel it in the way his cheeks burn with embarrassment.

”Could you choose again?” he asks meekly.

“Hmm…” you muse, pouting dramatically and placing your chin in between your thumb and index finger. Yuuta waits with bated breath.

“Could you make a circle with your arms?” you say with a snap of your fingers.

”H-Huh? Sure.” He awkwardly follows your instructions, his fingertips meeting one another, miming the act of holding a large box against his chest.

You bend down and disappear from his vision, only to reappear between his arms.

“Boo!” you exclaim, palms faced outward with your fingers spread apart.

Yuuta’s startled. It isn’t that the act itself is scary, but the way you press against his chest and grin at him awakens a gnawing desire in his head. The lengths he would go to see you smile like this for him–just for him. By the time he’s shaking out the thoughts out his mind, he realizes you’ve been waiting for a response.

“Ah, you really scared me,” Yuuta jokes, feigning a scared expression to soothe his nerves.

“Hm? You think I’m scary, Yuu-tan?” you quip back, but then you’re pouting your lips, and the way the glitter glimmers under the stage lights makes it look like you’re going to cry.

It’s like you’ve pierced his heart, he swears he can feel it. Maybe with Cupid’s arrow. It seems like a side effect of this is becoming a blubbering mess every time he tries to speak.

“N-No, that’s not what I meant!”

“Don’t worry,” you giggle with a bright smile that soothes his heart, “I’m just messing with you.”

Gently, you adjust his position until his arms are wrapped tightly around your waist.

But when you press up against him, Yuuta thinks you’re approaching dangerous territory. Even with all the layers in your skirt, he swears he can make out the shape of your ass. It doesn’t help that you keep adjusting your position, brushing against his clothed cock multiple times over. All he can do is bite his tongue and hope that nothing comes to light.

“Yuu-tan, is this ok?” You look back at him with that innocent glimmer in your eyes.

”Y-Yeah, it’s perfect,” he replies, nearly biting his lip as he does so.

You give the cameraman the okay to take the picture, and with a countdown that feels longer than last time, the picture’s taken.

“You’ll come to the next show, right, Yuu-tan?”

“Of course.”

“Pinky promise?” You outstretch your pinky again, and this time, Yuuta’s swift on the uptake, wrapping his pinky around yours with more enthusiasm than last time. It’s such a simple gesture, but Yuuta is fond of promises and all they represent. Love intertwined in a simple hook of pinkies. The gentleness of your thumbs pressing against each other, the giggle that leaves your lips as you make a heart with your hands.

“Pinky promise,” he repeats with a gentle smile.

—

In the days that follow, Yuuta’s come to a realization.

Don’t get him wrong, seeing you perform is great and all, but his favorite moments with you are the intimate ones. The one on ones, the short and sweet conversations where he can tune out the rest of the world. And when he does the math, they’re too few and far between.

Simply put, he can’t wait for the next show. So, he forges his own opportunities. It’s just too easy to do when you post selfies of where you’re handing out flyers for the night. Part of him thinks your agency should be a little more conscious of internet safety, but then again he wouldn’t have been able to find out where you were if that were the case.

Thanks to your social media posts, it doesn’t take that long to find you. It’s busy in Shinjuku but it’s pretty easy to follow the endless trail of girls hanging out flyers. Even though you’re lined up with all the other idols, hostesses, and maids dressed to the nines to promote themselves, he could easily pick you out of the crowd. They just don’t hold a candle to you.

“Please come to our show!” you exclaim with a smile, waving the flyer and hoping the random man in front of you will take it. And for once, he does. So you look up. “Oh! Yuu-tan! What’re you doing here?”

Yuuta feels all warm and fuzzy at the mention of the pet name.

“Ah, I was just running some errands,” he says sheepishly.

“Really?” you ask back in a hushed whisper before breaking into a smile, “what a coincidence!”

Before you can comment any further, a man sneaks into your field of vision and interrupts the conversation, shyly waving his hand at you and asking for a flyer. Your eyes light up for a second before you turn to give him your attention.

“Please come to our show!” you casually hand over the flyer to the stranger with a smile.

Yuuta doesn’t like that.

For a split second, he thinks you should quit being an idol. But then the thought boomerangs back, sits and marinates as he considers it further.

Yeah. That might be a good idea.

“It was nice chatting with you Yuu-tan, but I really gotta get back to work.” You pout at him. It hits him differently this time. He almost mistakes it for guilt, but it’s not quite that. It’s not as surface level, gets deep under his skin like poison and spreads unease throughout his body.

“I’ll see you at the next show, Yuu-tan!” you send him off with a wave and a smile, one he thinks is too soon.

Yuuta waits for you to brand your pinky for him, but it never comes.

Disappointment. It’s disappointment.

He’s been a fool. You’re distracted by all these so-called fans that you can’t see what’s right in front of you. Worse of all, your agency is putting you up to it. He really thinks it’s time for you to quit.

So Yuuta waits.

For an idol, you lack a crucial sense of self-awareness. You don’t even notice when Yuuta follows behind you once you finish your shift. Even as the bustle of the city crowd quiets down as you make your way to your agency building on a random side street, you don’t notice he’s trailing behind. Imagine how much danger you’d be in if some crazy fan were to follow you. You’re lucky to have Yuuta there for you, he just needs to make you see it too.

He almost loses you when you leave the agency building in much more normal and muted. He nearly has to stop himself from drooling at the sight of it. He can see it so clearly, the image of you wearing it on a date with him. Maybe it’d be at a cafe, somewhere he can see you laugh and smile with him as he feeds you an intricate, overpriced slice of cake. But before he gets too lost in his imagination, Yuuta shakes it off and resolves himself to continue following you.

The longer he follows you, the more Yuuta starts to feel invisible. You don’t notice him when he’s right behind you at the turnstill. When he follows you through all the twists and turns of the station, hell, even when he’s three spots behind you in line for the train. The lack of self-preservation is stunning, he thinks. More than that, how could you not notice your number one fan, your boyfriend, putting in all this effort to make sure nobody hurt you? But it doesn’t matter–soon enough you won’t have to worry about that.

You step off the train after a few stops, and Yuuta’s always behind you, not that you’re aware. The rush of people leaving the train is enough to help him blend in, but once you leave the station he adds some slack to the distance.

Another fifteen minutes of walking and he’s there, watching from a distance as you unlock your apartment and go inside.

Yuuta waits a minute before approaching the unit you just walked into. The lock to your apartment isn’t anything he can’t break through, and with a pointed blast of cursed energy, the lock breaks with a quiet snap. He makes a note to himself to tell you to get a better place.

Then again, it’d be best if you just lived with him anyways. He’d take care of anything, everything, as long as it’s for you.

The door creaks just a little as he opens it slowly, careful not to disturb you.

The apartment is cramped, narrow halls made even smaller by the coats you have hanging on wall hooks, but just down the corridor he can see your living room. Calmly, he takes off his shoes and places them down neatly next to yours before quietly walking over. You aren’t there.

He backtracks to where the hallway splits, approaching the bedroom door. It’s slightly ajar, tantalizing like a bow on top of a present. It’s as if you were expecting him.

When he pushes the door open with a slight tap, Yuuta’s greeted by a half naked figure. You were probably in the middle of undressing. He takes a moment to mentally thank whatever higher up there gave him the blessing of perfect timing.

“Get out of my apartment!” you yell, throwing whatever you can at him, but it doesn’t seem to do any damage. He walks casually towards you, even as you tremble. He doesn’t understand why you’re shaking, but he knows he can fix it. You have nothing to worry about, everything will be better now that he’s here.

His expression softens as soon as you look him in the eyes.

“Hey, hey, it’s just me,” Yuuta coos.

“Y-Yuu-tan?” you ask, voice out of breath from thrashing around, “what are you doing here?” your voice drops in a way that he hasn’t heard before. It’s intimate, he thinks.

“I’ve been worried about you,” he says, a tenderness wrapped in his words.

“Worried?” you ask in the softest tone he’s ever heard. It endears him.

“Yeah. You didn’t pinky promise me today.”

“Huh?”

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You usually pinky promise me before you say bye. But you were so distracted today.”

There’s a brief pause, but it feels like it lasts a lifetime. Yuuta studies your expression, one he doesn’t recognize. When your eyes meet his, he takes it as a sign to explain himself further.

“And it’s not just that. During your lives, I see you looking at other guys and it really hurts me,” his voice softens, his chest tightening at the confession. He notices the tears falling down your face, and scrambles to make it better. “But you don’t need to do any of this anymore. You have me,” he says with a hand against his heart.

It doesn’t seem to help as your barely contained cries become louder.

“Yuu-tan, you’re scaring me,” you confess.

He tilts his head.

“I don’t think I’ve said anything scary?”

Another pause. He waits for an answer but isn’t given one he wants as you run for the door. It’s a losing game to run from him, his body quick to shield you from the door, his hand tightly wrapping around your wrist.

“Why are you running?” he asks, genuine hurt in his voice.

“Because you’re scaring me, Yuu-tan,” you reply, voice trembling.

“I’m not trying to be scary, I just want to be a good boyfriend for you,” he whispers softly against your ear, and to prove his point, his hand grazes your thigh, traveling further until his fingers hook around the waistband of your underwear. “Make you feel good like you’ve done for me,” he says breathlessly.

“N-No, I don’t want this, please,” you beg.

Your words are rearranged by the time they hit his ears. For all intents and purposes, all he hears is “I want this, please” and that’s all he needs to kiss you. It’s soft for a moment, but then it’s as if something snapped inside him.

There’s no patience behind it; he’s waited so long after all. He kisses like his time with you is sand trickling down an hourglass and he’s on his last grains. All groans and grasping at your cheeks to keep you with him, hot and heavy.

“Y-Yuu-tan, please,” you plead shakily.

There’s something at the end of your words he doesn’t catch, but he’s all too willing to give you what you want, especially when you’re asking so nicely.

Your breathing quickens as his hand presses down on your legs so you can’t escape. Yuuta’s hand gingerly traces up your thigh until he gets to your underwear. The soft breath you let out when he brushes over your clit sends blood rushing straight down to his cock.

His tongue brushes against the cotton fabric of your underwear, a cute moan leaving your lips, just for him. It’s what he’s been craving to hear, the subject of all his sweetest dreams and basest fantasies, and it’s better than he could have ever imagined. Now that he has it, he needs more.

There’s no warning, no tact to his movements, he can’t hold himself back any longer. There's only pure, unadulterated desperation with every stroke of his tongue against your underwear until he finally pulls the fabric to the side.

When your hand grasps his hair, he’s taken by surprise but he doesn’t dislike it. He indulges you and even lets out a throaty moan when you tighten your grip. He didn’t take you for the rowdy type, but you’re full of surprises, aren’t you?

It enables him further to dive into you and lap around your clit to hear those short gasps that sound like music to his ears. His arms wrap around your thighs to bring you in further, his nose pressing into you as he starts to build a steady tempo.

It seems to be too much for you with the way your body keeps shifting, but Yuuta is nothing if not determined. Maybe you’re testing the depths of his dedication, but there’s no universe where he’d ever fail you. No matter how much you move, he’s stuck to you like a leech, sucking at your clit with fervor. There’s intention with every motion, in the way he huffs and inhales deeply through his nostrils, in the messy way he sucks and slurps at your slick.

Even though he’s working so hard to please you, something’s not quite right. You’re so… quiet. It makes Yuuta think you’re holding yourself back. There’s no need for that, especially between lovers. Soulmates, even.

“Let me hear how good you feel,” he pants between breaths, “it’s okay.”

His movements become more pointed, determination lighting a fire in his stomach just to hear how sweet you get when you cum. The anticipation is killing him, but he thinks there’s been a breakthrough when your thighs tighten around his head, your breaths getting shorter by the second.

When you finally cum, it’s nothing short of heavenly. Sweeter than any note he’s heard you sing on stage, better than what he’s heard in his dreams. It’s not just that, but the full body reaction as well. The trembling, the taut muscles, the rise and fall of your chest– it’s all so erotic.

So your love language is words of affirmation. He makes note of that.

The only complaint Yuuta has is that the moment was far too short lived for his tastes. He has to hear more. See more. Have more. His fingers press gently against your wet hole, one small push from penetrating.

“W-Wait, it’s sensitive–”

Yuuta cuts you off by slipping it in with ease, quickly followed by another. Hungrily looks at the point where he’s connected to you. He starts slowly, fingers carefully pressing and curling until he finds a spot that gives him the reaction he’s looking for.

“Too-too much, stop-”

He doesn’t. Why would he ever deprive you of pleasure? He presses in further, bullies the spot that makes you scream louder. It’s not long until he sends you tumbling into another climax. It’s far more drawn out than the first. He can feel it in the way your walls convulse around his fingers.

Even though it might be too much, Yuuta still fingers you through it. He can’t help it. You just look so cute like this, reduced to a sputtering mess. And knowing that he’s the only one who has the privilege of seeing this side of you? He’s on cloud nine.

He knows he’s being a bit mean right now. But there’s so much lost time to make up for. He might also be letting his jealousy of seeing you with another man get the better of him right now, but it’s ok. At the end of the day, he’s making you feel good.

Yuuta watches with wonder and amusement as you cum again. He almost feels bad for pushing you this far, seeing the way you squeeze your eyes shut and thrash around through your orgasm. While he’s not a fan of your pain, he loves being your source of comfort, the one to clean up your tears. It’s a necessary evil, he tells himself.

Yuuta plants a trail of kisses down your neck to help shoulder the burden, and it seems to help as you come down from your high.

“You’re doing so good for me,” he sighs, adoration laced in his voice as he kisses your forehead.

“Y-Yuu-tan,” you pant, “you’ve already made me feel so good. D-Don’t you think that’s enough?”

“Of course not,” he responds with a soft gasp as if he’s incredulous at the idea, “I have so much more I want to give you.”

“More?” you ask shakily.

“Mhm,” he purrs with a soft smile, unphased by the tremor in your voice. His fingers slide in and out of you with ease, drawing another soft lewd sound out of you.

“No, no, no, I can’t, I can’t-” you plead, before you’re cut off by a kiss. Yuuta notices you have this habit of denying yourself anything good for you, but you don’t need to do that. What are boyfriends for? He doesn’t stop, even when you scratch and leave blossoming trails of rose on his skin. It only makes him intensify his movements, picking a fast rhythmic pace to hit that spot that makes you moan so sweetly.

When you cum with a wail, Yuuta’s there to swallow every cry you give him, tongue swirling against yours to help you through it. There’s a tenderness to it, as if he’s telling you it’ll all be okay. In between labored breaths he huffs in your ear with a neediness in his tone, “let it all out for me.”

He didn’t mean it literally, but he’s not displeased with the results either. That being said, it does catch him by surprise when you clench and gush all over him and the sheets. The warmth of you soaking his pants makes him feel dizzy with lust. Next thing he knows he’s nose deep into your folds, lapping up at everything you have to give. Not a drop goes to waste, not when he lifts your legs and traces the trail of juices from the fat of your ass to your inner thigh.

It’s just too much for him. When he comes up for air, he’s hastily picking at his pants.

“Have you done this for anyone else?” he asks as he unbuckles his belt and slides down his pants.

You shake your head furiously in embarrassment. It’s cute. Part of him wishes he could record a video of it and save it for later. But there’s more pressing matters at hand.

Yuuta’s hard cock presses against the fabric of his boxers, begging to be freed. His hand barely breaks through the elastic when it springs free, slapping his stomach from the recoil. Seeing your hole slick with arousal for him is almost enough to make him cum right there. He takes a deep breath and tries to collect himself.

Yuuta strokes his cock before pressing it between your folds, collecting all your arousal along the way. Even this is enough to make him shiver, feel it deep in his core. He bites his lip and lines himself up with your entrance. The sight of your hole quivering as he taps his tip against it makes him lightheaded.

So he starts slow, presses against your cunt steadily until he gets past that first ring of muscle that makes you gasp. From there, it’s just a matter of patience and self control, pushing further and further until he finally bottoms out with a groan. It goes in so easily, it’s like you were made for this–for him. Yuuta feels like he’s floating.

While Yuuta’s never been one to think about his size, he still sees you squeezing your eyes shut. His hand caresses your cheek before he reaches for your hand, interlocking his fingers with yours. He brings your hand up to his lips and gives your fingers a chaste kiss, from one lover trying to comfort another.

“Hey, it’s in. It wasn’t that bad, right?” he asks softly, like he’s letting you in on a secret.

You give him a shy nod, and he smiles at that.

“You’re doing so good for me,” he praises, gently wiping the tears from your eyes. Even in the afterglow of your tears, you look beautiful. Then again, he’d find beauty in anything you give him. It doesn’t matter what kind of expression you wear, as long as it’s just for him.

“I’ll start slow, ok?” Yuuta brandishes his pinky.

There’s a moment of pause, a shake to your hand as you wrap your pinky around his. He’s already one step ahead of you and swiftly seals it with a kiss and a giggle.

Yuuta keeps his promise, as he languidly rolls his hips into yours. It takes every ounce of self control to keep a slower pace, but he has to savor his first time with you. You feel perfect around him–your warmth enveloping him like a blanket, almost suffocating with its embrace. It’s too much for him, he can’t keep biting his lip and holding back his moans. Then again, he’d be a hypocrite holding himself back, wouldn’t he?

So he lets whatever sounds caught in his throat escape through his lips, lets you hear just how much you’re messing him up. All broken groans and whimpers of your name. And maybe it’s a bit too much for you, seeing you grab the pillow to cover your face. But Yuuta isn’t embarrassed, and you shouldn’t be either, so he’s quick to toss the pillow off the side of the bed.

“Y-Yuu-tan, please,” you ask.

It sounds like there’s something else you were going to say, but the noise thins out into a hushed whine. But Yuuta can read between the lines. His hands spread your legs apart further for leverage, his lips pressing against yours until he builds it up to a slew of open mouthed kisses. Tongue against tongue, choked gasps and moans escaping into each other’s mouths. He kisses you like he wants to consume you, breathes in so intensely like you’re the air he needs in his lungs.

It’s everything he’s ever wanted. He can’t help himself from rutting his hips into yours a little harder, losing himself in the soft plush of your walls squeezing him tighter with every passing moment. Even the wet sounds of his cock fucking into you is melodic to him, along with your staccatoed gasps, it’s an earworm he wouldn’t mind keeping.

He can’t let himself all the fun though, his fingers making their way to your throbbing clit. It seems to catch you by surprise, earning a yelp from you that soon melts into a moan.

“Yuuta-”

The world stops moving. It’s as if he’s frozen in place as soon as he hears his name from your lips. No nickname, no extra letter. Just Yuuta. It’s enough to make his head spin, his nerves go haywire as he snaps his hips into yours faster, desperate to hear it again.

“Say it again,” he groans breathlessly, desperately trying to keep himself from cumming right then and there.

“Yuuta, Yuuta-” you whine in that tone he’s dreamt of, stroked himself to on lonely nights and he’s so close. All self control goes out the window as he practically fucks you into the mattress. He feels delirious feverish with an ailment that can only be cured through you. He can’t let you go; not now, not ever.

An idea hits him like a strike of lightning, reverberates throughout his entire being. His pace slows for a second. There’s a look of confusion on your face.

“If we have a baby, you’ll have to quit, right?” he asks, his finger gently tracing a heart around your stomach.

Your pupils dilate. Yuuta recalls that it’s a sign of love. Affection. His heart skips a beat.

“Y-Yuu-tan,” you mumble, a tremor in your voice, “what are you saying?”

“You’ll have to stay if we have a baby,” he whispers into your ear before his hips snap into yours, “right?”

You make some unintelligible noise in response, but he knows it’s just because you’re overwhelmed with joy at the idea. Knowing you’re happy makes him happy too.

There’s no time to waste, an urgency to Yuuta’s movements as he pushes against your legs until you’re folded into a mating press. His hips pick up a steady rhythm, the loud slap of skin echoing throughout the room.

Yuuta fucks you like he means to make good his proposal–his body pressed flush against yours, his hands wrapping around the back of your head to bring you into his embrace. He throws caution to the wind, lets lust take over.

Everything about you is overwhelming. How you scratch at his back, how you bite down on his neck hard enough to draw blood, how your legs tremble with each stroke. It’s like you want it just as bad as he does.

And who is he to deny you? His hand slips between your sweat covered bodies, trails down to your throbbing clit to show it some love. He wants you to feel as good as he does, or better. Preferably the latter.

He knows he’s doing a good job when he hears that tell-tale sign of your breaths quickening, along with your heart beating faster against his chest.

But something’s off.

You won’t stop throwing your body around, as if you’re trying to loosen his grip around you.

If this is your way of testing his love, then he’s passing with flying colors. It only lights a fire in him, determination ablaze in his fingertips as he draws tighter circles around your clit, the roll of his hips morphing to something slower, but deeper. It’s only a matter of seconds before your body gives in to his love and affection, cries sputtering from your mouth as your muscles tense up around him.

Yuuta can’t control himself any longer with your pussy convulsing around him, his pace becoming erratic, his breathing heavier. His voice breaks, a shaky whine catches in his throat before he goes over the edge.

“Love you, love you so much,” he cries before cumming, burying himself deep inside and making sure to give you everything he has. Every twitch of his cock leads to the undeniable warmth of his seed painting your insides white.

He takes a moment to collect himself and catch his breath, but he doesn’t take himself out of you. It’s like the intensity catches up with him all at once as he collapses onto you. Even in his state of exhaustion, he finds the energy to gingerly kiss your forehead.

“We’ll be so happy together, I promise.”

[allykakamatsu]

TWST Headcanons

Some of these will be more in dept than others, one or two will be AU specific, either way, enjoy~

Ace:

Bi disaster and is in hardcore denial over it

Didn't have any scars coming into NRC but by the time the year was over he had thorn pricks all over him (from the Rose Garden and from OB!Malleus) plus some nasty marks from the STYX guards that never went away.

Nowhere near as bad as Cater, but is afraid of loosing the people he's close to which is why he acts so abrasive.

On that note, post book 7 Cater is 100% is favourite senpai.

Before going to NRC got gifted a pocketwatch by his brother. Mostly not a big deal but in Twisted Hearts it's a big part of the inciting incident.

Deuce:

Also a bi disaster, in slightly less denial about it.

Covered head to toe in scratches and scars due to how many fights he got into during his delinquent days.

Not sure if canon refutes this in any way, but he feels pretty resentful for his dad leaving him and Dylla alone.

After seeing Ace's dream he starts worrying he's a bad friend to Yuu as he wasn't even thinking that much about what would happen when Yuu is eventually allowed to go home.

Trey:

Gay and proud.

Doesn't have many scars but like everyone in Heartslaybul he does have some marks from the rose garden, plus a few burn marks from cooking mishaps.

After an incident with Rook in science club, always carries a spare pair of glasses with him to be safe.

Does not know his dad puns suck ass and no one has the heart to tell him despite the cringe.

Cater:

Bi, though tbh if you're playing the JP side that one's honestly just canon-

Also some flavour of trans but idk which one yet.

Another rose thorn victim, and also has some burn marks from when he had to do the cooking at home and it went wrong.

Has a pretty big crush on Vil (again this one is debatably canon on the JP side if nothing else)

Admittedly I'm borrowing this one from @ladyazurith but due to his clones he was in charge of being everywhere and getting all the manual work done, which is why he was so quick to pawn it on Ace and Deuce during Book 1.

Wants to open up about his issues to his friends but has no idea how, plus there's the fear that he won't see them after NRC anyway, or that they won't like him anymore once he's more honest.

Riddle:

Gay and (somehow) even deeper in denial than Ace is about it.

The one with the least amount of rose thorn scars but still has a few. Also has some very slight burn marks from some reckless fire magic usage.

Also this one is for all the OB bois but some of the ink markings from his Overblot left behind some faint lines that become more visible when he (or any other OB boy) use magic.

Naturally white hair, his mother made him use magic to turn it red, and post book 6 he let's a little bit of the white show.

Not the worst at NRC with this, but has no idea the average price of most things so he has a decent chance of getting scammed.

Post book 1 once he admits he's never had a sleepover among other things Cater immediately drags the group into one. It goes well and Riddle has fun despite some initial awkwardness.

(more underneath cut)

Leona:

Asexual Biromantic. Also some flavour of trans but idk which.

Got his scar from when the rude son of guest visiting the Savannah pushed him while they were playing outside and he hit a rock. Also because of the scar his depth perception is fucked.

Has had to deal with a few assassination attempts and has some scars from it but is somehow not the one with the highest score of those.

Used to date Vil during the stars first year but they broke it off before the year was over. Now they've had some time to cool off (plus Jack and Epel joining NRC who they both care for) they're stuck in will they won't they hell.

Made the day Rook transferred out of Savannahclaw a dorm-wide holiday-

Will never admit it, but has a soft spot for Cheka and kids in general.

Ruggie:

Unlabelled but know he likes dudes.

Has a few nicks due to his thievery back home, but the only scar he bothers to cover up is the mark on his arm he still has after Leona almost killed him, mainly to make sure no one starts treating him like a kicked puppy due to it.

Has vitiligo

Frequently mails canned food he got from Sam as well as cash he stole from Leona's account back home to his Grandma.

Despite the rough start due to Book 2 he and Jamil are besties and meet up at least twice a week to shit talk everyone on campus.

Is not the Vice Housewarden, however no one can remember who Leona actually picked so they kinda just give him all the jobs a vice would have.

Jack:

Bi, also I can't prove it but something not cis is going on with his gender.

Has some nicks cause Savannahclaw has a lot of uneven edges all over the place, however most of his scars come from book 2.

On that note, gets pushed around by the whole dorm a lot in book 2, both figuratively and literally, due to him being the only one who still cared about playing fair. It’s better post Book 2 but he’s still not treated great by his dorm.

Doesn't get to hang out as much as he'd like but is really glad NRC gave him a chance to see Vil again.

Occasionally gets roped into the Diasomnia training due to Sebek offering and him wanting to mix it up.

Azul:

Gay and generfluid but prefers male pronouns.

Aside from the standard OB scars he has some scars from when his classmates back in the Coral Sea were poking him with sharp coral.

An ever so slightly better flier than Jade, or at least can last longer without having a heart attack.

Honest to the Seven just wants to help Jamil out in his own... unique way, the fact that he'd have such a powerful mage in his dorm is honestly just a bonus.

Frequently turns board game club into personal issues venting, much to Idia's dismay.

Jade:

Hasn't thought much about sexuality but he knows he likes guys. Is also generfluid though they don't have a preference.

Not nearly as many as Floyd but still has a lot of scars, including a large and nasty one on his back from when a strong mer attacked him when he was younger.

Part of a mob family and is the one set to take over the family business, a prospect he doesn't hate but would rather have as much fun as he can on land in the meantime.

Had a few more siblings when they were younger, however a group of predators showed up one day and killed most of them. Jade (the only one awake due to him getting a midnight snack) managed to keep himself and Floyd safe but he didn't bother trying to help the others, leading to him watching them all die.

Would rather die than admit it, but is pretty insecure about his UM and it's many limitations and worries that he might get replaced for not being strong enough.

Floyd:

Gay and generfluid, though like Azul he tends to prefer he/him most days.

Head to toe in scars, there's barely a part of him that isn't scratched in some way.

Also forgot to mention this with Jade but the two of them both have their mer cheek stripes showing at all times.

Too young to remember their other siblings and Jade plus their parents never told him so he doesn't know.

Not as down horrendous as Azul but also likes Jamil a lot and wants his sea snake to have nice things.

On that note, his favourite people are the kind that aren't afraid of him and are even not afraid to fight him, which is why he latched onto Riddle so fast after the chaos that was their Opening Ceremony.

Kalim:

Pan, he just loves everyone.

Multiple scars from the assassination attempts, most notably rope burns on his wrists which he usually tries to cover with either long sleeves or jewellery as a distraction.

The one time he tried to go to a therapist for his issues it ended up being an assassin so that scared him off for life.

Once a month after book 4 he goes over to Heartslaybul so Riddle can teach him law so he has more of an idea how to help Jamil and the rest of the Vipers.

Jamil:

Bi with a male preference and Bigender, but you can only call him she if he gave explicit permission (thank @blondeaxolotl for that one)

Hard to tell due to how well he hides them with his magic, but is the only one at NRC who can compete with Floyd and Lilia in the scars amount. Stab wounds, rope burns, marks left by Ruggie making him fall down the stairs, burns from when he was learning to cook, OB scars, you name it Jamil probably has it.

Half snake beastman on his mom's side, all that really shows is a snake tongue and sharper fangs

Major complex over needing to feel needed given that being essential to Kalim was all he had going for him most of his life. Only starts to deal with it and by extension accept Kalim's help after Book 6 when Leona turns their tower trip into a therapy session.

Will never admit it out loud but is warming up to Azul and Floyd (not that he’ll admit it) However while things are a bit better he and Jade still don't get along though, partly cause they spend less time together and partly because they're too similar in a lot of ways.

Never liked Rook much to begin with, but the mild dislike turned to full on salt after VDC. Like, he gets that Vil probably needed some consequences but did he have to drag everyone else down with him?

Vil:

Bi but a male preference and genderfluid, no pronoun preference.

The only scars he had before his OB was one he got when he was 6 and he accidentally cut himself with a knife, and has done everything in his power to hide it.

Not many other kids where he grew up so he didn't have many friends, Jack being his only one for a good while.

Part of him wishes he could meet his mother but doesn't have any regrets about being raised by Eric.

He and Rook are a package deal. If you want to date one, the other is there. Platonic or romantic, RookVil are a pair you do not seperate.

Speaking of Rook though, while Vil knows Rook did the right thing at VDC and he'd probably feel awful if he won after what he did and almost did, the dumb emotional part of his brain was still hurt, though the two patched things up by the end of book 6.

Rook:

Gay, like so gay it almost makes everyone else look straight by comparison. Also idk his gender but he ain't cis.

Has a decent number of hunting scars. Isn't ashamed at all but they're usually covered since they're mostly on his hands and he usually wears gloves.

Half of Savannahclaw has filed a restraining order against him though none have gone through.

Still feels some guilt over book 5 cause he knew how much it hurt Vil plus it got the others caught in the middle but he knew that he couldn't let NRC win after Vil tried to poison Neige.

Vil and Leona's biggest shipper when they were together, low key trying to set them back up now that they're on better terms.

Epel:

Gay and transmasc. Overcompensating masculinity wise big time.

Has a decent few scrapes from the farm, and also has a gap tooth that he doesn't mind but Vil is desperately trying to convince him to go to the dentist to fix with the actor even offered to pay for.

Goes back and forward between thinking Deuce is the coolest or the lamest affectionate. Either way they love talking Blastcycles.

Looks up to Leona a lot, low key horrified to learn that he and Vil somehow used to date.

Was sweating a lot during the Harveston trip as he was worried the group would see his old pictures and figure out he wasn't born a boy, but while the truth didn't come out seeing how well they reacted when they thought Marja's old picture was him did give him a lot of peace of mind.

The one besides Ace who crashes at Ramshackle the most so he can get a break from Pomfiore.

Idia:

Asexual and demiromantic. Also some flavour of trans but idk which

Has a few burn scars, some from the obvious source and others from wires sparking while he tried to fix something.

Actually descended from Hades, he and his parents are just hesitant to admit it due to the inevitable multiple follow up questions.

Addicted to this worlds version of Project Sekai. Do I have any evidence besides vibes? No but I still believe it-

After a few too many near death experiences calls he's just started making prosthetic limbs just in case he needs to replace something, and even if he never needs them he can just use them for Ortho when he's ready for a size upgrade.

Ortho:

Has only just gained sentience and doesn't really care about romance or gender rn

No real scars cause well, robot, though he does let the first years have some fun and do marker graffiti on him sometimes.

Has all of OG!Ortho's memories, and while he knows it's silly he still finds himself dealing with imposter syndrome a fair bit.

Has figured out that everyone thinks anything rude he says is unintentional, and uses this to occasionally back talk people who make him mad and get away with it.

Malleus:

His type is anyone who likes him back and he barely knows what gender is.

Doesn't really have any scars on him prior to loosing his horn during book 7. The people close to him on the other hand...

Due to them both being in one man clubs whenever cross club competitions arise Crowley usually pairs Malleus and Jade together, leading to a surprising friendship between the two.

To some people (Leona's) annoyance, post horn breaking he's still plenty powerful, just not god level like he used to be.

Speaking of Leona. They dated. It was only for a week as Leona was rebounding hard after Vil, it was messy, both of them regret it, but it happened, though Mal is open to trying again.

Also a surprisingly good cook, if only to keep Silver alive until he learned how.

Lilia:

Bi and polyamorous. Also doesn't give a fuck about gender.

Probably the most scared one at NRC for obvious reasons, man is covered in stab wounds as well as lightning scars from both Melanor and Malleus.

Speaking of Melanor, the two of them along with Levan/Raverne were all dating though the royal couple made sure the senate didn;t find out about Lilia.

Genuinely oblivious to how awful his cooking is. He managed to raise Silver without him dying so how bad can it be? (Silver has an iron stomach as well as Malleus saving him)

Silver:

Demi. Thinks he's cis but is open to experiment.

Has a few scratches and bruises from his training but nothing too major.

Post book 7 he briefly experiments with dying a streak of his hair blonde but quickly gives up on that idea and just goes back to no dye, or if he does want to dye he goes black like Lilia and Malleus.

Loves singing. Wanted to audition for VDC but didn't want to risk screwing it up by falling asleep mid song.

Forgot to mention with Kalim but those two are pure lights. More so relevant for Twisted Hearts but in cannon it means they're less likely to Overblot and blots tend to keep their distance.

Sebek:

Doesn't really have a label for it but he knows he likes guys.

Like Silver just has a few training nicks though he has a few more due to being more reckless.

One time nearly had a heart attack and destroyed half the dorm looking for his Malleus painting, only to find out that Lilia just took it to clean the frame. Afterwards Sebek cleaned up and sent himself to detention out of shame-

Due to his dad being a dentist he has some of the best dental hygiene on campus and knows a lot about teeth, leading to a surprise friendship with Trey.

Eventually remembers the events of NBC Lost in the book, but whether that's because he finds Skully's painting, meeting his ghost at Ramshackle or actually sees his friend in person again depends on the setting and how I'm feeling.

Masterpost

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[danikamariewrites]

Soooo, I hope that this is alright to request. I can't really pick between a ship for this b/c I love them and how you write them so much. So, if you don't mind, could you write about the reactions of Feysand, Rowaelin, and Nessian + Azriel (...Nesriel?? IDK) to reader getting poisoned by an enemy (reader lives, but is left feeling very, very weak and ill)?? If you just want to do one or two that's fine... I was just curious to see how some of them might react :).

Cured By You headcanons

Feysand x reader, Rowaelin x reader, & Nezriel x reader

A/n: I would not be able to pick between them in general and I love these ships and so happy you do too anon

Warnings: poison, over bearing mates

Feysand

It happened while visiting the court of nightmares

You felt like an idiot, you always check your drinks or have Azriel’s shadows check

When you wake up 2 days later you were more embarrassed than anything. Especially passing out in the middle of the Court of Nightmares, like what a rookie move

Cassian and Azriel jump into action as Rhys scoops you to his chest. Feyre unleashes her claws, practically growling in Kier's direction. Rhys grabs her and winnows the three of you home to an awaiting Madja

thankfully you healed quickly. whoever poisned you clearly didn't get their dosage right

you still feel weak and get tired easily during the day for a few weeks

the first thing you see is Rhys and Feyre casually chatting. you watch them for a bit before reaching for Feyre's hand that's casually draped on the bed

they jump at your movement and are overjoyed that you're finally awake

if you thought they were doting and overly fussy about you when you have the sniffles, think again. these two are unbearable!

Rhys carries you everywhere. it was a struggle to convince them to let you out of bed so this was the compromise

the poison had weakend you to the point where lifting your arms was a chore. Feyre had decided to feed you even though most of the time you gave her an I'm-going-to-kill-you look

you considered yourself lucky though. to have mates that take care of you is a blessing

Rowaelin

Furious doesn’t even begin to describe how Rowan and Aelin felt

everything was fine, dinner was going great. this new alliance with a kingdom bordering Wendlyn seemed promising

until you polished off your wine. you turned pale and Rowan immediately scented that something was wrong with you

you passed out, collapsing from your chair. the dining room fell into chaos as soon as Fenrys sniffed your glass and announced you'd been poisoned

the guests were ushered out and taken to another room to be interrogated while Rowan rushes you to your shared bedroom, Yrene following and ready to draw the poison from your system

you woke up two days later with Fleetfoot watching over you, her golden head laying on your stomach. her big brown eyes staring at you. petting Fleetfoot behind the ears she shakes your hand off after having her fill. leaping off the bed the large golden beast sits by the door and begins to howl as loud as she possibly can

the queen and king coming running, almsot breaking down the door

Fleetfoot wags her tail at the sight of Aelin, running back over to sit next to the bed as your mates approach

the pair throw themselves down next to you, squishing you between them carefully. "We were so worried, oh gods." Aelin breathes out as Rowan repeatedly kisses your face

(like Feysand) the two of them don't let you lift a finger. Rowan never gets to do this for Aelin so he babies you to the max

from helping you walk and work out the muscels in your body to feeding and bathing you he does everything for you

Aelin spoild you with attention and treats. you two spend all her free time snuggled up in bed eating junk food

Nesriel

they each have a very different (yet extreme and justified) reaction

Azriel starts threatening people with Nesta, who lets her power rumble through the room, flames cupped in her hands

Cassian is getting you the hell out of there and to Madja

Cass doesn't let go of you for a single second while the healers pulls the poison from your body. he presses kisses to your temple and whispers sweet nothings as you writhe in pain from the poison being extracted

while you sleep for a week they hover over you, watching over you like hawkes

Azriel sleeps sitting up in a chair next to the bed while Nesta sleeps next to you, playing with your hair so you feel soothed in your unconcious state

when you wake up you're startled to find Cassian curled up at the end of the bed like a dog, Azriel in a chair, and Nesta next to you

Az's shadows go haywire next to his ears, alerting him to your conciousness. the shadows rush to alert Cass and Nes who perk up immediately

Nesta sits up, holding your face in her hands, "oh thank gods, you're ok." she coos on the verge of tears

even though you're weak you force your arm to move so you can hold her wrist. "I'm ok," you whisper

you all thought Cassian would be the more doting/crazy one but it turns out to be Nesta

she freaks out every time Az or Cass move you, worried about your comfort levels or if you're in pain. she yells at them if you even wince, "Careful! you're hurting her!" they always give her the same exasperated look as you giggle

when they find out who poisoned you Cassian tells you and stays with you. meanwhile Az lets Nesta tag along to the interrogation

he even let Nesta participate and she did not hold back. making this guy feel the worst pain he has ever endured

[alwayslurkinginthebackground]

Something Good - A "Kissing You" Drabble

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader Warnings: Brief mentions of sex, but nothing beyond that. It's fluff city. Word Count: 1250 Prompt #47: "I've had a terrible day, so just kiss me." a/n: I RISE FROM THE DEAD! It's been (checks notes) like a YEAR? Idk, life happened. I have too many side gigs. But I'm HERE. I'm BACK. Here's some FLUFF.

Masterlist | Previous Drabble | Next Drabble

Nothing could have prepared you for the shitstorm that was your day. Nothing.

Even if you had woken up in Frankie’s arms this morning (you hadn’t), even if you’d managed to get more than one bite of your breakfast in your mouth (it was only half a bite, actually), even if work hadn’t been one dumpster fire after another (total dumpster fire count = 7), it still wouldn’t have been enough. Add on an extra half hour of traffic because of road construction, a lack of a lunch break, and a rainstorm that caught you just as you were walking to your car and it had been, in fact, the worst day you’d had in a long time. 

You’re still sopping wet when you open the door to the house you share with your boyfriend, wincing as your clothes drip on the floor you just cleaned last night. You can hear the clank of a pot in the kitchen as you set down your bag and try to make sense of the mop that is your hair, leading you to follow the sound. 

His back is turned to you, broad shoulders stretching the fabric of his well-worn grey t-shirt as he moves seemlessly around the kitchen. You stand there, in the doorway, staring at him because you’re helpless to do anything else, droplets of water still dripping on the floor around you. 

“You’re home, Cari…” he says, stopping short when he’s turned to face you fully, eyes raking over your body with a mixture of what you know is love, concern, and the desire that always lives in his retinas. “What happened?” 

“Shit day,” you begin, giving him the sparknotes version of your day fresh out of hell. “Traffic, someone quit, no lunch, drowned by the rain.” 

Frankie’s gaze softens as he steps toward you, enveloping you in a hug just before you let the tears fall. He rocks you back and forth softly, hushing in your ear as you shiver from both the cold air on your skin and the sobs that are coursing through your body. 

“Gonna get you all wet,” you squeak out, trying to pull back. 

“Nope, you need this,” he replies firmly, arms keeping you in place. You don’t fight it, absorbing his warmth, his scent, his presence, everything you need to feel a bit more like normal. It’s only when your tears begin to subside that he allows you to pull away, his thumbs quickly wiping at your cheeks. “Go take a shower and when you get back I’ll have everything set for dinner, okay?” 

You don’t argue, and he presses a kiss against your cheek before shooing you toward your bedroom. The shower helps, so do the dry clothes, especially when you slip one of his shirts over your head. It was your favorite - the one you’d stolen from him when your fourth date had turned into the fifth and the sixth when he’d brought you home and didn’t let you leave his bed the rest of the weekend. 

When you stepped down the hallway, you found that the floor had been cleaned again and the lights were dimmed to a soft glow. He wasn’t in the kitchen where you’d left him, so you chased the smell of whatever he’d made for dinner straight into the living room. 

And there was Frankie. 

He was in the midst of throwing a blanket onto what appeared to be a makeshift bed on the floor, a nest of sorts complete with a layer of cushions from the couch, every pillow from both your bed and the guest room, and a wealth of blankets to top it off. Two plates were sitting on the table pilled high with food, a glass of wine next to each, and when you finally drew your eyes back to him, he looked almost nervous. 

“I thought that maybe we could have a movie night?” he explains, shifting from one foot to the other as you draw closer. “And I made chicken parm and there’s wine and…”

He’s cut off when you kiss him firmly. His hands splay quickly across your hips, hauling you against his body. You’re both breathless when you reluctantly come up for air. 

“I’m guessing you like it?” 

“I’ve had a terrible day. Just kiss me.” 

He does, returning his lips to yours in a bruising battle for dominance. When his hand finds the back of your head, you nearly lose control. You feel like climbing him, like you can’t get enough. Of his warmth, of his smell, of him. “Frankie…” you groan, your lips chasing his when he pulls back again. 

You lean toward him, eager to continue, but he dodges your advance. “Dinner’s going to get cold,” he reminds you before running his hand down to grasp yours, pulling you onto the mess of pillows and blankets. He almost falls in the process, and he would’ve taken you down with him had he not caught his balance at the last second. Once you’re settled, he leans over to the table to grab your dinner and the remote. “I queued up your favorite,” he tells you proudly, and you can’t help but lean over to kiss his jaw when the opening notes of The Sound of Music come to life in your living room.

When you’re finished with dinner, you snuggle against him, his arm wrapped around you in a protective embrace, and when the intermission hits, he kisses your forehead before untangling his body from yours. “I’ll be right back,” he reassures you, and you watch him go as he grabs your dishes and leaves the room, returning a minute later with a couple of packages in his hand. 

“What are you up to, Morales?” 

The smirk on his face has you practically melting into the blankets, and it isn’t until he’s next to you that you realize it’s a pair of face masks. “Thought your face might be dry after being caught in the rain, so I figured…” he trails off, eyes scanning you as he gauges your reaction.

“You really did think of everything,” you whisper as you pull one of the masks from his hand, ripping open the top and pulling the sheet from the package. He smiles brightly, opening his own as you lean into his space, your fingers guiding the mask onto his face and smoothing out the edges. He follows your example, although you have to help him line the sheet up on your face before he presses it down onto your skin, your eyes falling shut as you relish his careful touch. 

“You look ridiculous,” you tell him once you’ve opened your eyes again, trying your hardest not to laugh and disturb the mask on your own face. 

He hums, “funny, because I think you’re still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” He’s serious, you know, but you roll your eyes at his cheesy comment anyway, reaching to set a timer on your phone. When the intermission ends, you let your hand find his in the space between you, threading your fingers together. His thumb runs in a soothing pattern over your skin, and if his gaze lingers on you instead of the TV, you don’t seem to notice. 

And later, long after the masks have been discarded, when the movie is drawing to a close and you’re wrapped in his arms again, you wonder what you did to deserve him. 

Although, you suppose, it must’ve been something good.

[thlayli-ra]

Ficlet Request - Treat - Being playfully clingy in the mornings when one has an off day and the other has to rush to work - PunkIntyre + Seth Rollins (idk if they have a poly ship name yet?)

I’m sure plenty of people will request whump fics and I will enjoy every bit of it as it comes, but for now, I just want something cute and domestic 🥰😂

Something cute and domestic coming right up! 🥰

Treat - 'Being Playfully Clingy'

Characters - Seth Rollins, Drew McIntyre, CM Punk

Rating - Teen and up

Warnings - None apply, domestic fluff

Drew was a hugger. And that was fine! Lovely actually. Especially on those lazy Sunday morning where all three of them would be tucked up in bed with nowhere to go and nothing to do, and Drew (in the middle where he liked to be) would wrap both of his titanic arms around his boyfriends and snuggle them in close. The soft, comforting body heat would lull them all back into a pleasant doze and they would stay that way for hours and hours.

That was the beauty of Drew, really - there was plenty of him to go around.

However, when there was only the two of them at home, Drew could be, well, how to put it delicately, he was... clingy as hell! Seth knew this well, considering he'd been going out with Drew the longest, and he also knew that the Scot was really missing his newer boyfriend. The pout he wore when they went their separate ways after Raw was devastating.

'I'm sorry, Big Guy,' Punk lamented, trying to breath as the huge Scot wrapped his arms tightly around his chest and refused to let go. 'I'm staying at the hotel tonight and driving onto the next town for NXT, remember? Got my special guest referee duties to do.'

'He'll be fine,' Seth said with a warm roll of his eyes, finally prising Drew's massive hands off of Punk. 'You have a safe journey tomorrow and we'll see you Thursday.'

'Bright and early, I promise,' Punk said, accepting a kiss from his sharply dressed boyfriend. 'Oh, and thanks for lending me your booty shorts.'

'Yeah, well, somebody's gotta wear them,' Seth joked with a shrug, 'since they arrived too late for the you two's match at Summerslam.'

'Well, thanks to you, I now know what not to do when officiating,' Punk gave a cheeky grin, opening the door to his rental. 'Love you.'

'Love ya, hon,' Seth returned.

'Love you, Punky,' Drew chimed in, watching crestfallen as the car drove away into the night.

Ever since then, Drew had followed Seth around like a overly affectionate cat, no, not so much a cat, more like, a full grown adult male Siberian tiger, wrapping his giant paws around Seth and gently digging its claws in, refusing to let go.

And that was fine! When they were both off with nothing to do. But today, Seth was scheduled for some media work, the first of which started in two hours and he was still stuck fast in bed with Drew's anaconda arms and legs coiled around him. He'd been awake for a while now, ever since his alarm had sounded at seven, but Drew (still loitering in the middle of the bed, even with Punk gone and all that extra space available) had whimpered 'no, no', rolled over and grabbed him.

Seth had allowed it. He knew this would be a tough morning for Drew and he fully expected him to be even clingier than usual so they lay for another half hour, spooning, Seth the tiny demitasse spoon compared to Drew and his extra large serving ladle. But time was now ticking on and Seth needed to get showered and smartly dressed and be out that door on time.

Peeking over his shoulder he found Drew's eyes shut, a serene look on his face as he dozed peacefully. Seth carefully slipped his hands under Drew's and gently opened them up in order to free himself when they abruptly clamped down again, gripping tighter.

'Nooo,' Drew grumbled into his shoulder blades, rubbing his face against Seth's bare back.

'I know but I got to, sweetie,' Seth said. 'I've got work to do today.'

'No!' Drew huffed like a toddler. 'Stay.'

'Believe me I would love to but Hunter would have my head on a platter if I missed these appearances.' An idea popped into Seth's head. 'You wanna come shower with me?'

Drew practically leapt out of bed with excitement.

So they showered together. And that was fine! They'd just had a new, larger unit installed so that the three of them could fit in together, which, it turned out was for the best, otherwise Punk would have hogged it all the goddamn time. Steaming hot showers, strong coffee and baked goods - his three main vices, which was a damn sight better than drugs, cigarettes or alcohol. None of them drank, although Drew enjoyed an alcohol-free beer with Sheamus now and again, so at least they didn't any awkwardness with that to contend with.

Speaking of awkwardness, this current shower was proving to be difficult seeing as Seth had what he could only describe as the equivalent of a bear-skin rug draped over him like a cape. 'Hey Drew, you mind moving over so I can-' The bear gave a growl and buried its snout deeper into the nape of Seth's neck. 'Ok, fine. Not like anybody will be seeing my back anyways.'

He eventually managed to wriggle out from between the Scot's tentacles long enough to slap on a pair of dress pants and an immaculately pressed button-down shirt but as soon as he'd fastened one cuff, it was snared between two jaws of a colossal Venus flytrap. 'Uh, Drew,' Seth cocked a brow at the Scot who sat on the bed, decked in only a towel knotted around his waist, dripping wet with his long, drenched hair sticking to his neck and shoulders, 'I kinda need that hand.'

'Tough,' Drew smirked cheekily.

'Fine, I can do my other cuff when I get there,' Seth sighed, adding with a mutter under his breath, 'and my tie and put on my jacket and my shoes and...'

Normally Seth would make something filling like pancakes for breakfast, and while he stood at the stove, Drew would come up behind him, place his arms on Seth's waist and his chin on Seth's shoulder and comment on how delicious it smelled. And that was fine! But today, Seth had no time to make anything fancy for breakfast, so instead he opted for a quick bowl of bran cereal with a dollap of milk. But he couldn't bend down to open the dishwasher with Drew pressed right up against him, and had to shuffle to the pantry under both of their weight and Drew's huge arm around his shoulders made it impossible for him to reach up - 'Uh, Drew, honey, can you grab me the- oh, thanks! - and then he had to drag them both across to the fridge then he couldn't sit down because he was now two human beings, one of which was the size of a house, fused together so he had to stand at the counter instead and as soon as he dipped his spoon into the cereal and tried to lift it to his mouth, Drew grabbed hold of his wrist and peppered kisses down his arm and-

-and now, this was really getting into the 'not fine' territory!

'Shit, is that the time?' Seth gasped at the wall clock. He was officially running late, and Seth Rollins never ran late. So he hobbled off in a panic, Drew still clinging to his shoulders like a fucking silver back mountain gorilla who'd been raised by spider monkeys to try and find his shoes (which he had no hope of shining before he left) and his jacket (which he'd hoped to press but had to give up on that too) and his open cuff caught on a door handle and his ears heard a horrible shredding noise and now his entire sleeve was torn apart and flapping around and when he glanced back at the clock, another twenty fucking minutes had passed!

'DREW! GET OFF!'

'No!'

'I'm meant to be at the studio in ten minutes and at this rate I'll hit the rush hour traffic. I need to go now!'

'Noooo!'

'Punk will be back any minute, so please, you only have to be by yourself for an hour or so at the most-'

'Noooooo!'

'URGH!' Seth despaired, but another three minutes had passed and he had to get out that door. So he gritted his teeth and squared his shoulders and waded to the front door like a kid at the carnival dragging around the comically over-sized bear he'd won at the stalls. That was... made entirely out of glue and bricks for some reason! 'Drew,' he grunted with each hard-fought step. 'I really. Really. Have to. GO!'

Just before he reached the door, it opened. A man stepped in and immediately jumped with fright at the sight of a bedraggled Seth lugging a huge, hairy Scotsman in a towel on his back. 'Uh... hi,' he said.

'PUNKY!' Drew cheered, hopping off of Seth. 'You're home!'

'Perfect timing,' Seth said, flying past Punk out the door, but not before planting a cute kiss on his cheek and whispering in his ear. 'He's all yours now.'

On cue, Drew rushed towards Punk and lifted him right up off his feet in an excruciating bear hug. Out the corner of his eye, the tattooed man saw Seth make a run for the car, and sweet freedom. Joke was on him though. There was nowhere he'd rather be than right here.

'Hey Big Guy,' Punk smiled down at Drew, accepting every kiss and hug and nuzzle that came his way. 'I missed you too.'

[sprinkleonthatcriticism]

Criticisms towards The Bacon Hair

I decided to make this post talking about a roblox film that I'm a pretty big fan of to the point that I even ended up making friends with people apart of the fandom and even best friends with one of the animators for the now cancelled 4th sequel of the roblox movie. That being The Bacon Hair by Oblivious HD aka Matt.

Basically the film is similar to Matt's previous film, The Last Guest movie (which the movie that people are most familiar with) and by similar I mean it's WAYYY too similar... the movie is basically anti-racism except instead of The Bacon hairs being racist and trying to eradicate an entire species of guests, it's the guests trying to eradicate the entire species of bacon hairs.......with robots and technology :^ My issues with the film is mostly how it's played out and of course, the pacing and as well as tons of plot-holes that are left unfilled.. just as how Mr. Z (Zayden's father or the headcanon name that people like to give him 'Zero') knows how to rewire a curfew bot (Guesty), why does The President (aka Arthur) hates bacon hairs so much to the point that he literally tried to murder Zayden in the forest when Zayden was a child and lastly, who the fuck is running bacon city???? Like I'm being serious here, who the fuck is running bacon city to the point that it has rising crime, rising homelessness and of course, rising poverty as The President of the Guest Republic had stated in tbh 3. If that's the case then why isn't the mayor of bacon city or whoever he, she or they is doing anything about it? The President of the Republic (..I'm actually gonna just call him Arthur to make things easier, which btw, that's his canon name that was gonna be revealed in tbh 4 but Matt dropped off the face of the earth so ermm) clearly mentions in this bit that he gifted the curfew bots many years ago under the false pretense that it would help deal with the Bacon resistance.

Which, obviously that isn't the case as seen in TBH 1 where a curfew bot is shown shocking a homeless bacon hair before dragging him away to be converted into a curfew bot, which according to Ben (or foreverhd) it was inspired by The cybermen from doctor who.. so I like to think that the process of Curfew bot conversion it's similar to the cybermen's conversion. Now, I want to talk about Xavion who first (and last) appeared in TBH 3.. what frustrates me about Xavion is that he has potential in the series as like the "Bacon General of The Bacon Hair" by that I mean he could of been like a second villain for Zayden and Primrose having to defeat before going after Arthur but instead he was killed off in the same episode he was introduced in.

And how was he killed off? The agents shot him before he could shoot both Zayden and Primrose to death... which, is lame and it really disappointed me because again, I thought he would've played a bigger role in this series and it just felt like that Matt included Xavion in just to be a small obstacle for Zayden and Primrose plus an excuse to have a part 4.

And lastly, I felt that he was only added in just to give Primrose a small backstory just as the fact that after she was taken back to the republic, she was teased by Xavion at school for befriending a bacon hair which... how tf did he know that?? Did her father told the class or maybe one of the agents came home to their child after work and told them what happened, honestly idk and that has been an issue with matt for a while when he makes his roblox movies... he doesn't explain things and there would be plotholes. This happened in The Last Guest, he never explains why the Bacon hairs are racist or how the hell they found where Rose and her family lives... but anywho I'm done rambling

[incomingcallscamlikely]

let's start this out w the following statement

i do not support d*sney, i am simply a product of someone having survived 90s media, this post took more than an hour to make & i'm tired of this rattling around in my brain

Maximilian 'Max' Goof Was Created & Killed by Disney Through Neglect & Number Go Up

max was created in 1951 for the episode Fathers Are People Too, as a plot device for goofy.

his early design is finalized and acts as a stand alone character for the singular episode.

his second appearance is in goof troop in 1992, this was the first attempt to establish him as a side character to mickey for the 90s. this secured his existence in older kids minds (read older sibs) so that their younger peers would hear about it.

here's where you probably know max from. we all felt like we knew this character & he'd been around forever! he hadn't. they just established him that well & made the goofy movie that good. bc indisputabley, the goofy movie is a fucking well made classic story of parent child bonding. certified 1995, with the target age being 5-9, the sweetspot demographic for kids cartoons

the next appearance we see max in is the direct to video sequel, an extremely goofy movie (2000). (no, im not counting the direct to home 1999 christmas special where hes somehow younger again) now, depending on your age you may be surprised there was even a sequel bc you mentally merged the two films together. and if you're one of those people? statistically blessed. the movies not that great. good moments but not great. at this point the target age group is 10 at the youngest, starting to age out of younger kid cartoons.

we've been talking about max the entire time, but let's actually talk about max. max has grown up, he's been taught by his dad, then in turn teaches his dad how to live without him & that he did ok & leaves for college. both father & son acknowledge his personhood. he goes off to live life. now he's 20 years old, working as a valet driver who also hosts some non descrip montage show that he wasn't invited to. he's not even a guest at this show. and idk about you but some of these guests read as the interns were asked to draw papers from a bowl featuring d*sney's least used licensable characters as a throwback to get people to watch the films again.

yall even remember this throwback? bc that's exactly what it was & how it read on screen. "hey, remember this guy??"

that throwback was the last time we see him on screen & likely the final time. we aged up & newer, more profitable charqcters were available to peddle onto younger audiences. so, naturally, d*sney shelfed max. but you have to admit, it's kinda funny. d*sney created this character from birth, for the sole purpose of us watching him grow, learn. growing from the character. watching how he learned enough that he could even teach his father that they'd both be ok when he left for college. his dad cried in pride of a son well raised, a son who loves his father & his community. he learns to be a good person & then gets to do absolutely nothing with his life, stuck working a min wage job w presumably a college degree. kid got to headline with powerline & now nobody knows his name. hell, they don't even know who his famous dad is. bc at least if you have famous relatives, ppl might remember you exist on some level just by association. they created this entire backstory for max, from birth, through neglect & the pursuit of profit

[wilhelmina-murray-harker]

omfg my poor sim just had the worst 48 hours of her LIFE dear god

to preface: my main sim is named skipper and their whole thing is that they wanna be SO famous (currently a 2/5 star celebrity). this story is sort of about them, but mostly about their girlfriend, grace, who was an npc until about four sim days ago and has been having a hell of a time

also i am formatting this somewhat like a greentext. idk why but oh well

> you are grace! just became sentient, very insecure about your relationship with your partner because it turns out you are a jealous sim

> your partner is a HUGE party animal and just left their own birthday party to go on some random tv show (the motive trials) and did not tell you anything (in their defense they also did not know what was happening)

> clean up the party and go home to your partner’s apartment you moved into yesterday

> whatnow.jpeg

> oh shit turns out you’re a magic user!!!!!

> hmm wonder what “inferniate” does

> THE FLOOR IS ON FIRE

> call the fire department

> YOU ARE ON FIRE

> fire department saves the day!

> you are now permanently traumatized about fire! 🎉🎊

> go to sleep

> partner comes home at 1 am, exhausted and about to piss themself, manages to get in bed but their needs are fucked

> you have work at 9 am!

> you were so tired you woke up at 8:30 but are very hungry but also don’t want to set more things on fire so you warm up a brea

> TIME TO GO TO WORK

> kfast burrito (that thankfully ends up in your inventory)

> first day of work as an interior designer! you have no idea what you’re doing but you manage to do a good job! (still scared of fire, worried about skipper bc they are all alone all day and have to work too)

> go home to partner who is still alive

> remember that you have to select gigs as an interior designer, pick one for tomorrow

> your One friend invites you to a festival but you decline bc you are With Your Partner Right Now

> wake up at 2 am to remember that it’s your birthday so you cancel your gig

> it’s also new years eve whoa

> skipper takes a vacation day so they can thr

> TIME TO GO TO WORK

> ow you a party hmm that should not have happened

> your werewolf client is FURIOUS for some reason but you cancel the gig anyway (again)

> go home!

> you decorate for new years while skipper arranges the party

> setting up the party is a bit of a struggle bc they don’t know your One friend so you end up having to do it

> party time!! the guests are a combo of skipper’s friends, your One friend, and a bartender you met in passing that seems cool

> skipper bakes the cake because they’re level seven cooking

> everyone is chatting and having a grand ol time and skipper is in their element because they LOVE parties and socializing

> your partner fucking DIES FROM LAUGHTER

> ON YOUR BIRTHDAY

> AND NEW YEARS EVE

> DURING YOUR BIRTHDAY PARTY

> IN FRONT OF THEIR CLOSEST FRIENDS

(at this point i am flabbergasted and looking up how the fuck to stop this from happening and attempt hella cheats, none of which work)

> everyone is sobbing

> scratch that, everyone except your partner’s ex, who has decided that now is the perfect time to work on her dj skills

> grim reaper shows up, you plead for their life, he does not care

> your partner is now An Urn

> fuck it we ball

> cast inferniate on the grim reaper

> he is pissed

> follow it up with deliriate

> hit him with inferniate again, catching yourself on fire

> grim reaper poofs

> the party goal meter is Still Going

> end the party, sending everyone home

> they all leave with “disappointing party” sentiments

> nofuckingshit.gif

> now it’s just you, singed, in your dead partner’s apartment with their urn, on new years eve, on your birthday

> the cake is still half-made on the counter

[eclecticrecap]

Unfortunately, I think the right of passage of my life is to just accept the fact I will constantly be stuck in horrible decisions to choose from, such as:

My grandmother's house, a small home, only three bedrooms, one my father used (he snores too much that my mother cannot stand to sleep next to him) before he later could live inside the service/wifi forsaken home in the countryside to flourish and replenish a sense of humanity unlike his grubby handed children, whilst working for a pharmacy chain. The other room, was used by my mother, my brother having to sleep in that room because the second guest bed was just so small and my brother was afraid to sleep alone don't you DARE bully him (He won't technically see it but idk it wouldnt sit well on my conscious) And me? Well usually I'd share the master bed with my grandmother up until fated 2020 when I picked up the permanent curse of floor sleeping, you think I would be capable at that time of touching the second floor, even? Let alone a bed? Whilst the OCD brain termites had forsaken my bodily autonomy? I had free will, and permission to sleep on the floor.

But here's another problem, my grandmother's house doesn't particularly have a workspace friendly spot besides her own things, not many easy places to put my drawing tablet and pc without having to uncomfortably sit, so all I really had was the dining room's sewing table, I don't know why the sewing table was so desk-able and serving cunt with that tablecloth ontop of it, (during 2020 I got glitter stuck on it and then one tiny blot of ink.....whoops) BUT NOT ONLY THAT ITS RIGHT NEXT TO THE FUCKING KITCHEN, so I kinda had to settle for just not having a good place to be in Discord voice calls, for a 16yo chronically online during covid time that is a personal nightmare.

And let me tell you it would make me scratch my skin in anxiety and frustration when one day I had been on my pc and smelled the MOST DISGUSTING FUCKING STENCH OF A COUNTERTOP POLISH EVER HOLY SHIT I WENT INTO A SPIRAL OF ANXIETY, I DIDN"T KNOW WHAT TO DO, WHERE TO GO, THE BRAIN TERMITES FORBID ME THE STAIRS, FORBID ME TO SIT AMONGST THE CHAIRS AND COUCHES OF THE LIVING ROOM, HELL, EVEN THE FUCKING BACKYARD.

So I strong-armed through it, she was polishing her countertop for at least 30 minutes, not sure why it took 30 minutes, I arguably was already anxious to be there because she constantly would accuse me of scratching her stove when there wasn't anything noticeable on her stove, one time I placed a knife on there for 5 seconds to get something and the blade didnt even touch the stove and she started getting real mad and said "It's nothing like how it used to look" or something like that when THERE WAS BARELY ANY VISIBLE SCRATCHES ON THIS STOVETOP, I WAS SENT INTO A PANIC I COULDN"T EVNENNb FUCKOJGHN OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH MY GFOOOOOODDDD

Now, you know how I had dyed my hair a bit during this year? Well when I said I fully bleached my hair, I didn't mention the fact the lower layer of my full head of hair, was dyed red, now, remember the mention of my OCD preventing me from properly showering? Because the brain termites told me using the showers would result in terrible things happening to me? (I genuinely don't know how the fuck I didn't stink if I recall there were some moments I ended up sponge bathing in one of the bathrooms because there's no damn way, it was SUMMER in arizona.)

Well, that resulted in me not spending time to wash my hair, and if you ever dyed your hair (respectively, look at you, I highly doubt theres someone reading this who hasn't, I don't mind being proven wrong.) well, red hair, is messy, and the red dye SOMEHOW WAS TURNING MY SHIRT'S TAG PINK???????? AND WHENEVER I SCRATCFHED MY CRUSTY ASS SCALP, PINK WOULD BECOME MY FINGERTIPS, UNDERNEATH MY NAILS. AND I GUESS BY TOUCHING THE COUNTERTOP...THE FUCKING COUNTERTOP OR ANYTHING I FUCKING TOUCHED TURNED FUCKING PINK???????????????????????????

So you can imagine later in october, when I dyed it dark blue, I would probably run into this same problem, I wanted to wash it in the kitchen sink, since my family often uses sinks to wash hair because WE ARE FREAKS I DONT CARE WHAT IM TOLD I GET IT ITS WEIRD. But I wanted to wait until i could have assistance for it, I believe it was because I didn't know what shampoo to use, and alot of the times I just, crusty teen shit I sucked at washing my own hair.

But my grandmother randomly started thinking I was going to shower, however, I didn't say I was going to shower, now maybe its because I was afraid to use the shower, but even then I was still sponge-bathing to at least keep some form of hygiene, but I had a feeling it was more because of my hair because she didn't give a shit if I was in public spaces, and for her, the person who will openly tell you if she thinks you look too uggo for idk.. a walmart? And I previously was obviously discussing the hair dye transfer problem, so I had decided beforehand to just, wash my hair in the sink, like weird family tradition.

Now this was I believe the day after I dyed it blue, I had to leave the house, and we were supposed to leave the house soon. But suddenly she tells me she would not take me to the store unless my hair was washed, so I was a little anxious, because the brain termites were telling me showers were bad, but I felt like explaining it would make me get laughed at, despite how real those intrusive thoughts feel to someone with OCD, and I didn't predict us being stuck at this house for well... the entire year. It was normal for us to wash hair in the kitchen sink, it's metal, it's been done for years, but she didn't want to wait until I had help with washing my hair in said sink so that was arguably not fun. Thank fuck I'm medicated??????? idk

At least nothing in her house turned blue.

[blueaprondelight]

exes with benefits | lip gallagher

inspired by: olivia rodrigo's "bad idea, right?" (2023)

wc: 1.83k | nav post mae note: okay i hate the ending of this so if anyone else hates it please lmk and i will adjust it because ugh i changed it like three times and it still feels... meh? idk i feel like i need to make a part two (if people even like this??)

rating: 18+ post, minors dni. :-) content warnings: fem!reader / afab!reader, unwrapped p in v (wrap it before you tap it!), kinda public sex??, exes hooking up, plot with little plot, unsettled ending lmfao, fem!fingering, oral (f recieving) bc lets be honest lip is a munch, brief mention of reader wearing panties/a bra

House parties were never really your "scene".

The chaos and uncertainty of whose house you're even in, the smell of colognes and perfumes and sweat, the alcohol being mixed together in plastic cups that are discarded on the floor later that smell like Disneyland if it wasn't cleaned in a month-. Every part of a house party sounds awful. So, why are you standing in one now?

Well, your friend Lauren would be the reason why. Work had been a bitch for her recently - her words not yours - and you had gone through a breakup recently, prompting her to suggest a girl's night out. How you ended up at a house party from the crappy bar she dragged you to in downtown Chicago was beyond you.

"C'mon! This is totally gonna distract you from Lippy and all the drama he brought. To being single!" Lauren drunkingly cheers as she holds up her plastic cup of (you're sure) three different kinds of alcohol. You hold up your glass of water barely, running a hand over your face. "Yeah, can we not announce that?" You ask.

Two seconds later, she's giggling with a guy leading her up the stairs. You sigh, turning to go get some fresh air when there he stands. Lip Gallagher. Your freshly appointed ex-boyfriend. Or Lippy, as Lauren refers to him.

You and Lip had dated for two years, but you'd known him since you were kids. Your relationship was perfect, until one night. When he called you clingy, a bitch - this was of course after not talking to you for almost a whole week. You told him that night you were done with him. That he could call when he figured himself out.

He didn't call. It'd been a month.

It doesn't feel real that time has passed that quickly, because part of you is still stuck in his bedroom. Right where he left you. A lesson well learned.

"Hi." He says, as he stares at you. You stare right back.

"Hi." You manage to get out, clearing your throat. "I have to go-"

"Wait. Can we talk, please?" He asks, walking over to you, a hand on your arm as he whispers to you. The world stops for a pause before you nod. "Fine." You agree.

You let him lead you upstairs into an empty room, taking it in. It looks to be a guest bedroom, few decorations other then picture frames with the "welcome to our home" and flower vases on the nightstands.

"Welcome to my hell" would be a better fit.

"Why are we avoiding each other like this? You've been my best friend since I was fucking ten years old, I don't want us to lose each other like this." He says as you sit on the edge of the bed, taking note of the floral bedspread. "We already lost each other, Lip. A long time ago." You point out.

"Don't do this shit, don't be all cryptic." He rolls his eyes as you stand right back up, almost giving yourself whiplash. But that's disregarded when every memory floods back to you.

"Oh my God! What the hell do you want from me, Lip, huh? You want me to just forget every single thing you said to me? Or maybe you want me to just forget how you avoided me like the damn plague for a week before you finally did call me just to blow up at me and tell me you didn't want to be with me anymore. You can't go from telling me I was your favorite person to telling me you think I'm a bitch. And I can’t even look at my favorite person anymore, so what the fuck do you expect me to do?" You burst out, turning away from him, staring out the window.

It's silent for what feels like an eternity before you feel his arms wrap around your waist from behind. "I don't want to lose you. I- I haven't been me since you left. Please." He isn't sure what he's even begging for from you, but his voice is soft enough where you feel yourself wanting to give in.

This was a bad idea, right? After all, he was your ex. But you're both mature adults, can't two people reconnect? You'd only see him as a friend this time, it wasn't like he had to be something more.

You sigh as you push his arms off, walking for the door, waiting for a moment before locking it. You turn back around to face him, walking over to him and barely grazing his lips with your own to tease him before he kisses you. His hands find themselves on your waist like how he used to put them there when he kissed you like this.

Used. It still doesn't feel real to use parts of your relationship in the past tense. How you used to kiss him, how he used to hold you, how he used to be yours.

You kick your shoes off, and he does the same.

He pushes you back onto the bed, deepening the kiss. His tongue slides into your mouth easily, one hand on your back, the other sliding up your thigh. He knows your body so well, it's almost a science to him. He knows how your body reacts to certain touches. Certain places to kiss to make you giggle. Parts of your body that if he touches them, your back arches or you naturally move closer to them.

Like right now. His hand teasing around your sex, not quite touching where you so desperately want him.

His mouth only parts from yours to begin kissing down your jaw, then onto your neck. Finding solace there, he makes a mark on your pulse point, low moans erupting from you. Hands running through disheveled curls.

His hand finally reaches your cunt, and you hear him groan at the wetness growing on your panties. He looks at you for confirmation, and you nod desperately in return, not sure what he’s planning in that genius brain of his.

He removes your shirt so he can kiss your chest. Then your bottoms, leaving you in only your bra and panties. A finger slides those panties to the side, and he lets out another groan as he slides the digit past your slick folds, and you let out a gasp in return. You give a little tug to his hair and he almost moans at it, which you make a mental note of.

He thrusts his finger out, at a torturously slow pace, all while kissing down your body. You quickly realize when he grins up at you what he wants to do. What he feels he needs to do. You give him a nod of your approval, moans still flooding out.

He stops thrusting and removes his finger, only to replace it with his tongue. Sucking and kissing your clit, sliding his tongue in you while his hands run over skin on your thighs. You bite on your hand just to muffle your moans from the still active party outside, just as his nose bumps your clit.

“Shit, Lip. I'm close- fuck..” You whine as he laps desperately at your sex, and you can feel his smirk. "Language. Let go for me, baby, please." He requests softly, rubbing tiny circles on your clit.

You don't last long after that.

He lets your climax drip down your thighs, grinning to himself as he watches, feeling some of it on his jaw. "Need to feel you, please, Lip." You beg, and he frees himself from his boxers. Giving himself a few strokes before he lines himself up with his enterance. "You ready, sweet angel?" He asks, pressing his forehead against yours and lightly trailing slobbery kisses down your cheek before connecting to your lips. You pull away only after a second, whispering a soft "yes, please" before you're kissing his jaw in anticipation.

He groans, inserting himself past your now damp folds, thrusting gently in and out. He watches as his dick is swallowed by your cunt, your walls fluttering around him like it’s a familiar friend coming back.

Truth be told, he wasn’t sure why he pushed you away. Maybe he let the negative thoughts that you were too good for him take over. Maybe it was just the Gallagher thing to do.

But he’d regret it for the rest of his life.

Your moan brings him back to reality, hands on his shoulders as he finds a new position to fuck deeper into you, and he finds himself groaning as your nails dig into his skin. You quickly learn by the way his dick twitches he enjoys that.

And he learns by the way your walls squeeze around him you like it when he hits that spot in you. The spot that makes your head feel blurry, the spot that replaces every thought with his name. The spot that makes moans come out of you, the spot that makes the familiar heat in your belly grow.

“Fuck, Lip, I’m gonna-” Your words are cut off when he hits that spot again, even with a new angle. His forehead pressed against yours, sweat connecting with sweat. “Shit angel, you were just made for me. Pretty pussy just missed me, huh?” His words slur from the pleasure clouding his senses.

Your moans and mixtures of his name are more of an answer for him. The room smelled like sex, sound of skin slapping against skin filled it. He pressed his lips against yours, swallowing your moans as he rubbed small circles on your aching clit, and he feels the familiar white heat pouring out of your cunt.

He doesn’t last long, burying his seed deep in you. Swallowing your whines and moans as he pulls out, only breaking the kiss to stare at you, both of your chests heaving as you catch your breath. Watch your eyes having a silent conversation with his.

He lays down beside you. He watches as you run a hand over your face, and he decides to wash you both up. Returning with a damp washcloth, he helps get you cleaned up and setting your clothes on the end of the bed.

“So, uhm..” He tries to think of a conversation starter, and you shake your head, holding a hand up. “We shouldn’t have done this.” You whisper, frowning as you grab your clothes, slowly redressing yourself.

“You don’t have to go. We can go back to your place or mine and we can just talk.” You don’t realize he’s begging rather than requesting. This can’t be how you and him say goodbye after seeing each other again for the first time.

"I can't do this, Lip." You point out as you fight to get your shoes on.

You’d only see him as a friend.. biggest lie you ever said.

"I love you." He says. "I was an idiot for not saying it before so I'm saying it now. I'm in love with you and I always will be."

Definetly a lie now.

˙ ✩°˖🌸 ⋆｡˚꩜

thank you for reading! please feel free to engage with this post by reblogging, commenting or sliding into my inbox to leave feedback! i appreciate all of you! if you enjoyed reading this you can definetly check out my lip gallagher masterlist here -> click me!

- mae:)

[liecastillo]

Cover Up // Chris Evans

Chris Evans x female reader ?? idk lol

Summary: It’s late and not safe to drive home. The only possible solution is to stay at Chris’ house overnight. But with that masive crush? Yeah, it’s a pain in the ass...

Warnings: masturbation, use of vibrator, huge crush on Chris, CHRIS (hopefully that’s all, this is my first rodeo ever, lol)

Wordcount: 2.5k

!!beware of all the mistakes, English is not my native language!!

A/N: Hello and welcome to my first ever story written in English! I’m very VERY nervous about posting this but since I’ve already put in the work when writing this, it would be a shame if it just stayed in my computer, wouldn’t it?

A big thanks to @keanureevesisbae for being such a great helper and supporter! ❤️

Enjoy!

I hummed and cracked my neck. After hours of sitting in one position it was stiff as hell and my back wasn’t doing any better. I sighed and leaned back in the chair in the dining area of Chris‘ house.

“I think we‘re done for today,“ Chris said and finished his fourth bottle of beer. I hummed in agreement and closed my eyes for a second to give them some rest. But as quickly as I shut them down, I opened them again when I realized it was pitch dark outside. Annoyed, I groaned at the thought of the forty-minute drive back home.

We planned to end our planning session way earlier, but between laying out all the meetings, interviews, table reads and filming days so they don’t overlay over each other, we kinda got lost and forgot to watch the time.

It was worth it though. We planned out almost the next four months and everything should go smoothly. Should.

Chris must have been reading my mind as his eyes went from my small frame to the window and then back to me.

“You can stay overnight if you want to. The guest bedroom is ready for you… as always,“ he offered.

As always. I knew it was a jab at me because every time he offered something remotely close to staying overnight in his house, I dodged the offer and opted to rather drive back home. It was better that way. I was sure about that.

I didn’t know if I would be able to handle a whole damn night in a place where every corner smells like… him. Even being in his proximity for the whole afternoon and evening proved to be challenging.

Of course, this was not always the case. No.

It started pretty recently. Or maybe a couple of months ago but time flies by fast when you’re having fun - and Chris was a lot of fun. I mean, he always was. That’s just who Chris is. He’s the fun uncle, always joking and pranking everyone else and being friendly with basically everybody.

But I felt like he stopped being friendly with me a long time ago. It started with simple touches, like touching my waist so we don’t collide with each other when he walks by me in tight spaces, and even simpler gestures, like making sure I drink enough water during the day (because he knows that has been my whole life struggle) and always bringing me something to snack on (because he knows I have a very sweet tooth).

And I already had a massive crush on him before all of this. But now? Now I don’t even know what to do anymore. He was becoming more and more attractive to me with every little thing he did every day and it was starting to feel unbearable.

Actually, I wouldn’t be surprised at all if my underwear is completely drenched after spending so much time with him.

I wiggled in my chair and realised that I in fact could really feel something wet and sticky between my legs. Oh boy.

Chris looked at me with a very pointed look. Shit. I have been quiet for too long, I haven’t given him any answer to his offer.

I shook my head to get any and all horny thoughts out of there and licked my lips before gently biting the lower one.

“I don’t know, Chris,“ I murmured.

Chris sighed and shrugged.

“It’s all up to ya but you know I would love to have you over for once so you don’t have to drive all the way home. I mean, c’mon… It can’t even be safe anymore with how tired you are.“

Reluctantly I nodded in agreement and sighed. I pondered over his arguments about why I should stay and I have to say he IS right - I am tired. And yes, it is not the safest thing to drive for so long in this state. Was there any other choice though? No.

I mean yes, but that included staying with Chris. Ugh, this situation is so frustrating…

“C’mon, I’m going to give you some fresh towels and something to sleep in,“ Chris chirped. Crap, he must have taken my silence as a yes. I opened and closed my mouth like a fish on dry land, but I couldn’t think of any more reasons, why I couldn’t stay. I think I officially ran out of them the last time he offered.

With a lot of hesitation evident in my body language, I stood up and followed him to the laundry room. He handed me some towels and his t-shirt and shorts. HIS t-shirt AND shorts.

Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. What the heck.

I inhaled deeply to calm myself down. However, it was a mistake, because I only inhaled more of his scent wafting from his t-shirt that I held pressed to my chest together with the towels. I almost whined like a kicked puppy while we were walking down the hall to the guest bedroom.

“If you need anything, text me or call for me, mkay?“ he said.

“Mhm,“ I murmured – I didn’t feel brave enough to say something else. But after we stood in the hallway for a minute and no one said anything, I took it upon myself to get this over with.

“Thank you, Chris, you’re very kind. Good night.“

“Always happy to help, ya know that,“ he said.

“I know,“ I replied.

“Good night,“ Chris said before he disappeared into his room.

I sighed and also went into my room for the night. I looked around and admired the king-sized bed with silky white sheets and a mountain of pillows. There were bedside tables on both sides of the bed and there were lamps and tissue boxes on both of them. There were two doors on the right – one of them led to the bathroom and the other one… probably a closet?

I placed my bag on the bed together with Chris’ clothes and the towels he gave me and rummaged through my bag. Aha! Thank you irregular period for making me carry another set of underwear with me wherever I go.

I walked to the open door that led to the bathroom and stepped in there. Maybe a nice shower will calm me down and help me to handle everything.

I stripped down and climbed into the spacious shower. I turned the water on and set it to a hot temperature. Just the right one. I sighed and leaned into the wall for support.

Resting my forehead on the wall I closed my eyes and thought back to everything that has happened today and everything that I still need to do tomorrow and in the next couple of days. But those thoughts haven’t lasted for a long time.

Slowly but surely they were being replaced by blue eyes, bushy beard and soft brown hair. The smell of cedar wood and citrus swarmed around me. Thick arms with popping veins wrapped around my waist and a hot and sticky body pressed to mine. Smooth skin brushed against mine and my knees started to shake. I quickly opened my eyes and looked around in panic but I quickly realized it was just my damn own fantasy.

Shaking my head I scrubbed down my body and climbed out of the shower. I should not have thoughts like that, it’s only going to make things worse for me. I dried myself and put on my underwear but held back from putting on Chris‘ clothes. I stared at it laying on the closed laundry basket and contemplated if this is a good idea.

Picking it up I brought it up to my nose and sniffed it.

Cedarwood, citrus, musk and… Dodger.

I groaned and threw it back on the laundry basket. He doesn’t have to know, what eyes can’t see…

I went back to the room and grabbed my tee from today. It’s not that dirty and I think I will be able to survive in it throughout the night and until I get back home.

While I was in the bathroom I noticed an electric toothbrush by the sink and there were new toothbrush heads so I decided to take advantage of it and brush my teeth.

After putting the tee on and quickly brushing my teeth, I climbed into the bed and wrapped myself up in the blanket.

The plan was to fall asleep as soon as possible but so far I was failing miserably. I was just tossing and turning and I could not for the life of me get rid of the ache between my thighs. I rubbed them against each other and whined.

My imagination took a strike again.

I swear I could feel huge palms wrap around my thighs and pull them apart. They gently glided from my knee to my core and created a path of goosebumps.

I shuddered and parted my legs a bit more. Gentle fingers brushed against my core and my hips bucked up.

With a moan, I opened my eyes and realized those were in fact my small fingers trying to find their way inside my underwear. I groaned and threw away the blanket that was not helping with the heat I was feeling all over my poor horny body.

There is no way back or more like no way I’m going to be able to fall asleep feeling like this. I have to do only one thing possible right now, otherwise, I’ll be just tossing and turning the whole night regretting everything that has happened today.

Hesitantly I stalked towards my handbag and took out my pale blue vibrator. I may regret this in the future but what else should a woman like me do when she is around such a fine man as Chris.

So far I managed to avoid masturbating while thinking of Chris but I think today’s the day I’m going to break one of my rules that were supposed to help me not to fall in love with him even more.

They were totally useless.

I took a deep breath and laid back on the bed. Again, I spread my legs and pressed the buzzing vibrator to my clothed core.

And as before, I let my mind wander wherever it wanted to in order to get off.

I was thinking about his blue eyes. His smile and his sexy bushy beard. Oh, how amazing it would feel if it would just brush on the sides of my thighs and then all over my over-sensitive bundle of nerves.

How amazing his full lips and pink tongue would feel lapping on my folds and the juices dripping down from my pussy.   

How his hands would rub on my thighs first and then move to my belly before deferring down to my waist to pin me down to the bed.

My hips bucked up and down and my back arched. I hummed in contentment and bit my lip.

My pussy started to clench and my whole body began to shake and quiver with ecstasy.

The orgasm was so magical that my ears started to buzz and my vision became blurry before I tightly closed my eyes while I enjoyed the rest of the ride.

I clasped a hand over my mouth to cover up a moan that came to the surface.

The corners of my mouth went up and I sighed with relief.

However, that relief was quickly gone when I heard a knock on the door.

I panicked. My heart started to pound and my ears started to buzz, although right now it was for a completely different reason.

Oh no. It must be Chris. There is no one else in the house. Unless Dodger learnt how to knock on the door which is very unlikely he managed to do in the last half an hour.

I sat on the bed and looked around. There is no way he did not hear the buzzing of my vibrator and he is not stupid, he’s definitely going to put the pieces together.

Suddenly I got an idea.

I jumped from the bed and silently ran to the bathroom, grabbed the electric toothbrush and quickly ran back to the bedroom and to the door.

This should work, or at least confuse him enough if he heard something.

I exhaled to slow down the beating of my heart and with the next inhale I opened the door.

And there he was.

Clad in sleeping shorts and nothing else.

Oh sweet lord.

My eyes scanned his torso up and down. All of the tattoos he wore on his body and all of the abs he worked so hard for. Even the fine hair on his chest that looked disgusting on anyone else yet so sexy on Chris.

I looked up at his eyes and noticed a puzzled look in his blue ponds.

They jumped from my eyes to the still buzzing electric toothbrush in my hand and then to my t-shirt that clearly showed my erect nipples.

Damn, I didn’t even realize that.

He opened his mouth but nothing came out.

He tried again and this time he said: “I thought I heard…“ He did not finish the sentence, instead, his eyes flashed again to the electric toothbrush I held in my hand.

Oh god. Please no.

I turned it off and took a breath to say something but before I could say anything, he was faster.

“Ya know what… Whatever… I just wanted to say good night again and to make sure you’ve got everything you need. So… Good night!“

He quickly turned on his heel and went away from the guest bedroom I stayed in.

I sighed and bit my lip.

I closed the door and laid back in the bed. I turn on my side and stared at the electric toothbrush I placed on the nightstand next to the bed.

Should I have covered it up? Wouldn’t it be better to just let it be and deal with the consequences? Wouldn’t it be better to just let him think whatever he wants to think?

I don’t know, and I guess I’ll never know it because what is done, is done.

Tomorrow I have to get out of here as soon as possible. No breakfast, no coffee, just a simple goodbye, and I’ll be on my way home because after this, I can’t even look him straight in the eyes without coming back to that feeling when I came with him in front of my eyes.

I’ll have to avoid him for at least a week before I can see him again without turning into a full-on tomato. 

Oh well. That actually won’t be possible.

Tomorrow afternoon is a photoshoot day. 

For Gucci. 

Which means half-naked Chris.

Yeah, I’ll have to find a last-minute excuse as to why I can not come because if I’ll see half-naked Chris, I will come, but in a whole ‘nother way…

I don’t know, what do you guys think?

[wri0thesley]

🌙 anon is back from irl and genshin hell 😭! Hope you’re doing well Nat!That Diluc x chubby Maid reader fic 😳😳😳😵‍💫🥴 so good like omg idk where to start to comment on how much I LOVE the fic! 🤩🥳

Thinking about same chubby maid Y/N that has to help out Angel’s Share to serve food and drinks to patrons. Such a high amount of customers lately, the tavern needs more help! Adeline informs her of the task. Charles and Diluc help teach her the tasks she has to do. Maybe Diluc gives Y/N a new bartending outfit or sticks to her original clothes 😳 Diluc’s favorite maid is quite popular with the guests, she so sweet, welcoming, works hard, thus he’s getting horny jealous. Some guests like Zhongli, Venti, Albedo, Ayato, Thoma, Childe, Pantalone, etc. take a special interest/flirting at Y/N which sets Diluc off (*coughs* possessive/breeding kink *coughs*) after closing hours. 😋

I’d like to think that Rosaria and Kaeya are good friends with the reader. The cryo duo are well aware about Diluc’s sour mood and him being down bad for our sweet maid 😂 Y/N thinks Diluc’s sour mood is due to the busyness of the tavern so she working hard to ease his stress 🥺 (put a ring 💍 on her Diluc!)

Maid reader I assume doesn’t have a vision from the dressing fic but if she did I headcanon Hydro for steamy reasons 🤭🤭🤭 hydro + pryo = vaporize 🥴😉😌😏

oooh anon...

i am THINKING about this so very hard. perhaps a special event that brings people back to monstadt (like the one we're getting very soon), to wine and dine and drink and make merry . . . and reader is just so sweet, so eager to please, wants to help diluc so much - and it's not like he's going to be at home much, is it? so it's agreed upon that they can take some shifts at angel's share, when diluc is there to keep an eye on them - and what do you know! they're very good at it! in fact, if diluc didn't know better, he'd think several of the patrons purposely hang back to be served by reader instead of coming to diluc himself.

and reader's in a cute little approximation of a waitress outfit; maybe it's a bit too small, again, because he can't help himself, but it's festive! still. only diluc should get to ogle at the soft push of reader's chest in a low-cut little white blouse (i'm imagining, seeing as monstadt is so heavily german-inspired, something akin to a dirndl?) and bodice that just emphasises how lovely and round and nice to touch they'd be. so he's glaring daggers from behind the bar, and oh no, that's not helping people want to be served by maid reader either!

i do think this is especially funny with venti. diluc knows that's barbatos; knows that it's monstadt's archon . . . but all maid reader knows is it's the funny, charming bard that people love to hear play at angel's share, so they should probably be nice to him! and diluc can only bring himself to be so curt with venti, knowing everything he knows . . . and venti takes full advantage of that. accidentally falls into reader's generous decolletege. flirts and winks and sings particularly bawdy songs whilst making direct eye contact. you cannot tell me that venti wouldn't fall head over heels for a chubby reader. come on.

mmm. he can't start an out and out diplomatic war, either - so outright telling ayato to back off is a bad idea, especially as inazuma has only recently re-opened to the outside world and ayato has so much sway over arts and culture. and i always like to imagine he knew thoma as a child and remembers him; so when ayato and thoma are flirting, all he can do is grit his teeth.

zhongli also puts him a little on edge. even though he knows nothing about zhongli's true identity, the man exudes power; and you seem so interested in him! diluc's well aware that, despite being a gentleman, he can be a little . . . awkward. zhongli talks like a gentleman and smiles at you kindly and diluc knows by now that you're weak for authority figures! but the fact that venti seems to know zhongli so well also doesn't bode well . . .

if anything, it's childe and/or pantalone (though i think it's far more likely to be childe) that sets him off. makes him bring an end to the night early and send everyone off to the cat's tail because he shattered a glass whilst cleaning it by losing control of his vision - a fatui harbinger? having the absolute nerve to make a move on his beloved little maid? that's just too much. he's got to fuck you over every table in his tavern and make you scream out his name and tell him that you love him in between jealous, angry, mind-shattering orgasms. it's literally a life or death situation. if he doesn't do it, he'll simply die.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

The pizzeria cleaner in charge of DJ’s area (y/n), shows genuine kindness to a spider they find on the ground while cleaning, and DJ just thinks it’s really sweet? Because he’s used to being referred to as freaky, he kinda looks like a spider, so he sympathizes with spiders when they’re disliked - but then there’s this person who isn’t afraid of spiders, and doesn’t seem to be bothered by him, so he’s just like “aww” idk- more people should like insects and arachnids-

As the DJ was making his usual rounds around the Fazcade, he saw a few Mop Bots cleaning the floors. Mostly soda spillage, if he had to guess. He never went too close to the ground so it was hard to tell.

Lately he’s noticed more and more STAFF bots taking over the jobs of human workers. Not that it usually bothered him, though there’s one person he loved seeing that he hopes won’t get replaced:

The stage and dancefloor cleaner, aka you.

You’re always a joy to see. However, he was worried when you didn’t come in at the normal time today. 

Maybe it was just your day off? He wasn’t entirely sure. So he couldn’t help but frantically search until-

"Oops! Almost stepped on you, huh? I’m sorry.”

Suddenly he hears you and is relieved, but he wonders why you’re not at his stage. So he takes a turn and sticks his head out from one of the giant holes, peering down to find you in front of the golden statues, picking up something he couldn’t quite see.

As he listened to you, he eventually realizes what it was.

“I know spiders like you wanna have fun, too, but you gotta be careful around here.”

Ah yes, a spider.

Pesky little arachnids, as many humans liked to call them. Though instead of screaming and immediately squishing it flat, you’re actually holding it in your gloved hand, talking to it like a friend.

Of course anyone else would think you were crazy for talking to bugs during your shift. But you didn’t really care. You were the only human working here so it’s not like the bots were gonna judge you. They just focused on cleaning.

DJ would never judge you either.

In fact..he found your kindness towards this spider to be endearing.

He could absolutely understand how they felt--being the “creepy crawlies” that freaked many people out. Unfortunately he was designed in their likeness so it was easy for him to multitask. Yet he couldn’t do anything about the kids that cried upon first seeing him or the parents that would yell out-loud “what the hell is that thing?!”

Comments like those stung.

He was only here to provide state-of-the-art entertainment that no other establishment could rival. With fun music, games, and dancing! Everyday he worked hard to protect the arcade and its guests.

Yet his only “thanks” was often an “ew creepy giant spider” remark.

Luckily, you were one of the more mature adults who didn’t fear spiders. Seeing you completely fearless around both real ones and giant animatronics like himself warmed his mechanical heart.

In fact..it was beating so fast right now he swears he could make it into a remix-

“Oh hey DJ! Sneaking up on me like always?”

Hearing your voice snapped DJ out of his trance as he looked down at you, waving off your question with a smile. He could see the spider much better now.

“I’ll leave this fella in a cup in the janitor closet, and I’ll put him outside when I go home.” You informed him. “Be right back!”

Nodding, he watched you head to the bathrooms, keeping the spider cupped in your hands.

He’s sure that little arachnid was happy to be safe and sound with you. 

And so was he.

[introwalktheline]

caught ya!

↳ genre: enemies to lovers ig? idk

↳ summary: you and sunghoon hated each other’s guts, or so it seemed. until you got caught by an unwelcomed guest

↳ word count: around 1230

↳ warnings: again, bad/basic english and possible grammar mistakes; swearing; heated scene (it's not completely nsfw but please do not approach if uncomfortable anyways)

you and sunghoon hated each other’s guts. blood would boil in your veins whenever he’d start to speak; your remarks were as venomous as a wild snake attacking its prey.

as cliché as it may sound, while you were the typical diligent student, always topping your classes and working hard, he would often slack off, prioritizing the ice-skating rink and hanging out with his friends, not even once bothering to focus on school, homework and tests. you two were as different as day and night, as the sun and the moon; yet, it seemed quite the exact motive of your attraction towards the raven-haired boy. of course, you’d never admit it to anyone, not even to yourself, your pride obscuring your reason. little did you know, sunghoon felt the exact same way, too proud to voice his feelings, just like you.

it was quite ordinary to watch the two of you quarrel over the stupidest things in the hall of your school. being extremely short-tempered, even though rational enough to notice and control yourself most of the time, you’d somehow fall for his teasing remarks. and he secretly loved watching you get all worked up. you were so adorable: your face often turned red from turmoil, and your brows formed a cute frown. he just couldn’t stop.

you and sunghoon hated each other’s guts. the problem? you two shared the same group of friends. things would normally go rather smoothly; you both loved your friends way too much to cause unwelcomed troubles. hence, you tried your best to stay away from him when you guys hung out together.

finally happy to be free from homework and to spend the evening with your friends, you decided to watch a movie with them. while getting in line for the tickets, a smug comment from the person you were the least - or so you kept telling literally anyone all the time - interested in made you halt right away. you tried to remain calm, you truly did, as you didn’t want to ruin the night out.

“so you’re telling me they make movies out of classics? like…these little women? how boring would that be? are there actually people who enjoy those kinds of movies? that’s bullshit”

see, those sentences, as if out of deliberate malice, were not simply put out there for everyone else to hear. he wanted YOU to hear them. he knew how much you were fond of period dramas, and how you would easily walk into the trap; it was so easy to exasperate you at this point. the poor guy had become addicted to teasing you.

compressing your mouth, holding a silent combat with yourself, you simply could not manage to control yourself anymore. they say the eyes are the mirror of our soul; well, at that moment, your unflinching, ferocious stare was quite eloquent. it goes without saying, you haughtily answered him.

“why, don’t tell me you’re the type of person who actually enjoys watching…i don’t know, horror movies? please…the plot is stupid, it’s literally all about weird scenes and jumpscares. and i bet you even shit yourself while watching them.”

that's it. he didn’t see that coming. you were basically calling him a coward? hell no, he couldn't back down so easily.

“well, princess” sunghoon said while hovering way too close to your figure, “why don’t we put this to the test? we’ll watch a horror movie together, and see who’ll be the one shitting their own pants. you decide where and when. what do you think, love?”

if you said you weren’t turned on, you’d be a liar. you would never give in though; you quickly focused again on the matter, and accepted the challenge.

sunghoon joined you in your house the day after your little dispute. your parents were never really at home, and that night too, for they had an important business dinner to attend. at times, it felt lonely, being an only child. however, it was the perfect time to end it all with the guy, not having to answer unwanted questions nor wanting to give false hopes to your mother, who would shriek at the thought of you finally getting a boyfriend.

as was anticipated, the movie he picked was quite boring, not to mention the fact that you’ve never really been a scaredy cat. an hour into the movie, you snort loudly; of course this didn’t go unnoticed to your companion.

“what now”, asked sunghoon bitterly.

“how can you enjoy this kind of movie? seriously. they’re just plain, and boring, and don’t make any sense, and-”

“can you shut up? i don't care whether you like them or not, just keep quiet till the end. unless you’re too scared to keep watching it?” retorted the boy complacently.

and that you did, for a while. you kept quiet. nonetheless, sensing how vexed he had become, and being bored to death, you couldn’t lose the opportunity to make him even more exasperated.

“that’s literally trash. why would a kid enter that weird ass, dark door, it’s not what would normally happ-”

now. that you would’ve never seen it coming. sunghoon had roughly placed his lips on yours, his body acting quicker than his own mind.

you and sunghoon hated each other’s guts. if so, then why was that kiss so intoxicating? why did it feel so right? after a few seconds of disbelief, you reciprocated the kiss, allowing yourself to deepen it. at that moment, you didn’t care about the possible teasing that would’ve resulted from it. at that moment, the tension between you two vanished into the air, growing stiffer as the two of you transformed a simple kiss into a heated make-out session. hungry for sunghoon lips, you wrapped your hands around his neck, not letting go. his moans were pure music to your ears, and made something click into your brain. you interrupted your ministrations only to straddle on his lap; his hands reaching your hips, keeping you secure and in place. even in the unlit room, you could clearly see his hooded, dark, hungry eyes staring deeply into your soul, and that’s where it hit you: you and sunghoon didn’t actually hate each other’s guts.

you two were so different from one another, yet you’d just become one in a warm embrace.

too caught up in your actions, the arrival of sunoo, your best friend, whom of course you’d given the spare key to, was unnoticed. well, only for a few seconds.

“oh my god, i totally knew it! i knew you two would be making out, i’m so telling the others” a smug settled in his visage. you hated to see that face, it meant trouble. this time wasn’t an exception.

“for god's sake sunoo, when did you come here? you scared the shit out of me” you answered, your cheeks getting redder and redder.

“well, well, well… i guess he won the bet then, didn’t he? you didn’t finish the movie”, continued the younger one, indicating the tv, still on.

“anyways, please don’t go further, we don’t want to babysit another child, we already have niki and it’s like having ten children".

“GET THE HELL OUT” you screamed at a satisfied sunoo, already on his way to tell everyone what he had just seen. you and sunghoon expected a long, embarrassing conversation with the others.

author's note: i wanted to thank everyone who read this, it means a lot to me! i'm not sure about what i'm doing, especially since i've never really used tumblr to post my writings,,, also if you have any requests i'm always here :((

[gusustudies]

Hi guys! Since a lot of people will be heading back soon, and the start of the semester is right around the corner, I figured I’d compile a list of things that I learned my freshman year to hopefully make the transition a little less rocky for you! These are all things that I definitely wish I’d known before my first year, and that I’ll keep in mind going into this year.

Packing/Dorm Stuff

- If you’re in contact with your roommate, decide who’s bringing what of the “big stuff” (fridge, microwave, vacuum, etc) (if you’re able to, having a full-size vacuum is a GODSEND)

-Depending on how often you’ll be coming back home, pack LIGHTLY - especially with food stuff like paper plates/napkins/snacks -wait until you have a good idea of what your dining situation is like and what you can stuff in your bag from the dining hall (our cafeteria was buffet style and had stands with chips so I grabbed one or two bags every time I went

-You will not need nearly as much stuff as you think. Your room is probably already pretty small unless you're lucky and got a suite/apartment-style dorm setup. I promise you do NOT need to bring ten pillows for your bed. 90% of the time they will end up on the floor. I promise.

- Definitely loft or at least raise your bed if you can, you can fit SO MUCH stuff under there it’s insane

- You will probably have like, zero shelf space, so once you have a good idea of your room and what you’re bringing, one of those little box shelf cube things from IKEA or Target are great to put under our bed or somewhere else in the room

- Bring tons of the command strips/hooks

- You will probably change your room layout multiple times with your roommate before you get it right lol

-POWER STRIPS AND EXTENSION CORDS are a MUST. Keep in mind though, that you can’t plug your fridge into one or you’ll blow a fuse and everyone on your floor will be out to kill you

- If you have a private shower, bleach the hell out of it before you go in there with bare feet, if not, shower shoes!!!

School/Student Life

-Print out your syllabus before the first day of classes, some professors expect you to have them - they’re usually either on your student site (like Canvas or Schoology)

- Get to class ten min early, especially the first day, so you get a good spot

- Sit in the first or second row if you can if it’s a classroom, and within the first four if it’s a lecture hall

- If you have a chunk of time where you have nothing to do, deadass just wander around. Literally no one cares, you’re paying to go there, you’re allowed to be on campus. (Yes this was something I had to get over lol.)

-You will get out of your first class and have a moment of “Omg what the hell do I do now?” Find a cafe. Go to the library. Go get lunch or coffee or a snack somewhere. Do NOT GO BACK TO YOUR ROOM. It’s going to be very very very tempting but also boring in the long run.

- The first week there’s usually a lot of activities to welcome the new freshmen, food trucks, yard games, guest entertainers, (we had a magician the first week) bingo, etc. Go to some of these! You never know who you might meet and there’s free food a lot of the time 👀

- Join clubs! Our campus has a student organization fair the first week where all of our clubs have their own booth and stuff, idk if you’ll have something like that but 🤷🏻‍♀️ I literally joined Model UN because I wanted the pretty sticky pad set and it ended up being amazing - join a bunch of clubs that interest you - if you end up not liking them there’s usually no obligation to stay on

- Once a week or so has passed, you’ll start to find a natural schedule that works for you. For me, that meant after getting out of my 10am I went for a quick brunch/light lunch at the cafeteria or local cafe, and studied/hung out there until my next class, and then went to any clubs I had that evening. Try and stick to that schedule once you find it, familiarity/routines are so comforting sometimes, especially for me

- You might not make friends right away. That’s fine. My friend group didn’t click until late March. I had people I was friends with, yes, I talked to them in class but it took a hot second to find the people that I knew I would be friends with for a long while yet.

- Stay on top of your grades! Each professor might have a slightly different method of grading; my English professor only gave grades on our papers BUT he was also grading us on participation and stuff, but it wouldn’t be posted on our student site - so you were kind of left guessing sometimes. Some professors put everything on the student site, and some only put a few things on. If this happens you can usually send them an email requesting your current grade in the class

- Stating the obvious here but if you’re invited to a party, or just hanging out with friends there is NEVER any obligation to drink, and if there is, you’re hanging with the wrong people. But if you do decide to, make sure it’s with people you trust and that it’s not too far from your residence hall/have someone walk back with you

-For the love of god do NOT BUY YOUR TEXTBOOKS IN ADVANCE, I cannot emphasize the amount of times when I bought a $100 textbook, got to class, and the professor a) offered a cheaper option or b) sent a PDF link for the book

-Rent at all possible times, unless the textbook is for your major