#or perhaps it'll worry him

[pushing500]

Maybe Mechi's tempted to go after the sanguophage so that he can use it to ensure the survival of those he cares about and not have to outlive them again?

Or on the other hand, perhaps he's unnerved by the thought of them because a sanguophage would definitely outlive their loved ones, unless they kept turning others.

I think all this talk of sanguophages and the nature of mortality is going to stress him out, poor guy...

Don't forget to vote in the poll!!

[jrueships]

anybody else have a food they're allergic to but still eat anyway

[kingdomoftyto]

Made a rough scale of some musical comedians / comedic musicians and how much their songs make me genuinely worry about their mental wellbeing

[pseudowho]

"Hey! Nanamin, Mrs.Nanamin?"

You and Kento looked up at Yuuji from your places on the sofa; you, with your cross-stitch and your tongue between your teeth, and Kento looking over his newspaper and reading glasses. Yuuji dried his hands, having washed the final dish.

He grinned, ruffling stray bubbles into the back of his hair, and tapped away on his phone. Kento's phone buzzed, and he picked it up, looking at the screen.

"It's my birthday next week--"

"--dont worry, Yuuji, we know--"

"--and I'm just gonna have a little party in the Jujutsu High forest. Gojo says it's okay, thought you two could come along. I've qjust sent you the deets."

As Yuuji walked off to his room, you looked up at Kento, who read the invitation in increasing confusion, a dismayed little hum rumbling out of his throat.

"What? What is it?" You asked around the needle pinched between your teeth, leaning closer to peer at Kento's phone.

"The party..." Kento hummed.

"...the party...?"

"Apparently it's going to be 'dank'."

"Oh...sounds unsanitary."

Kento hummed again. "Quite. Though perhaps if we bring our best 'rizz', Yuuji thinks the party will be 'bussin'. Even better, if our outfits 'slay', he'll be 'highkey' excited."

You frowned, then scoffed, calling down the hallway.

"Hey, Yuuji? This invitation..."

"Yeah?" He shouted back, "What about it?"

"Have you had a stroke?"

Yuuji laughed, unabashed, and walked out in his pyjamas, grinning. "Nah, for real for real, it'll be great. No cap."

You and Kento looked at Yuuji like he'd grown an extra head. Yuuji laughed again, and got a glass of water before bidding them goodnight, scoffing as he went into his room;

"Millennials."

You and Kento sat in stunned silence in the lamplight. Kento looked at your cross-stitch and fluffy socks. He felt his reading glasses on his head, his newspaper forgotten in his lap, and you seemed to be thinking the same, before asking him in quiet horror:

"Kento...are--are we old?"

Another dismayed hum, from beside you.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

The 20th of March arrived; a balmy spring evening. The sun was setting as you and Kento approached the forest at Jujutsu High, seeing the flicker of flames in a great firepit, hearing music and laughter, and clinking glass.

Panda tossed bottles of drink across the floating crowd; Maki and Megumi caught theirs seamlessly, and Nobara fumbled hers to the tune of laughter, her eye patch replacing her depth perception.

The birthday boy bustled around, accepting claps on the back, gifts and well-wishes, his hair turned coral in the dying sun. He looked up as you and Kento approached, looking happier still.

Yuuji softened at Kento's smile, accepting a gift with the promise of 'more at home'. Kento patted Yuuji on the shoulder, looking him up and down.

"Looking good, Yuuji. On fleek."

Yuuji faltered, unsure. "Oh, on...?"

Kento turned to you, only marginally irritated when Gojo joined your group. As the conversation grew between you, Kento and Gojo, Yuuji looked more and more sidelined, eventually fumbling for his phone, his trusty translator.

"Went to talk to the higher-ups today--

"Ugh! Adulting."

"-- legit. Looked over their new hashtag 'Student Protection Policies', and they were so fucking basic--"

You and Kento scoffed as Gojo continued, and Yuuji listened on, flicking through the glossary of his mind.

"--so yeah anyway, cheeky humblebrag, but when they told me I couldn't argue, I told them that they'd die of old age before they got a good policy out. Solid clapback, I feel."

You and Kento scoffed, sipping your drinks, answering; "Savage"-- "Woke up ready to throw shade, huh."

The party went on, and Yuuji found himself overhearing more and more of Kento's conversations. Yuuji had a growing list of words on his phone, and increasingly looked at Kento as if he'd been replaced by another man.

Yuuji looked down at his phone, scrolling through the list; he had no answers. He still had no idea what time 'Leet o'clock' was, he'd been called 'dude' at least seven times, and he had lost a game that he hadn't even known he was participating in.

Kento turned back to Yuuji, smiling again at his disgruntled expression, thanking him; "Party's lit, Yuuji. Having fun?"

As Yuuji opened his mouth to argue, you approached, grinning at Yuuji and looping your arm through Kento's; "You alright kiddo? Looking a bit shook."

"I-- what? I don't--"

Kento leaned in to you, talking lowly in your ear; "Just been schooling this boy on the appropriate vernacular. I like to think I'm winning."

You laughed, delighted. "Weird flex but okay."

You melded back into the party ("Oh my god! Megumi's puppers! C'mere boy, who's a good doggo..."), and Yuuji fizzled at Kento, pugnacious.

"You're fucking with me, aren't you?"

Kento looked at Yuuji with absolute innocence. Yuuji puffed his cheeks out, putting his phone away and stabbing a finger at Kento.

"I'll get you back for this. Just 'cos you two are old."

Kento scoffed again, the barest smirk on his lips. "We're not old. You're just a baby."

"Yeah, yeah, Nanamin. Tell me that again when you stop taking two ibuprofen in the morning 'just in case'."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

A cheeky Millennials and Gen Z love letter, written absolutely tongue-in-cheek

[sungstars]

slut me out | njm x fem!reader

i.e you needed to give your situationship the time of his life after seeing his instagram story.

word count: 2.8k (not proof read)

content warning: situationship, open ending, smut lol, oral (m. rec.), fingering (f. rec.), explicit sex, unprotected sex(no!), creampie, lmk if i missed anything thanks!

author's note: two fics in one day! can we believe this LOL. would you guys be surprised if i said that i have a mark one that i'm hoping to finish and it'll be queued up for tomorrow morning/afternoon. i hope you all enjoy this fic and as always, dedicated to my crazy and delusional bffs. likes & reblogs are appreciated as always. requests are open till october 5th! i'm still working on my jay fic, and hoping to have that out by tuesday!!

“you’re fucking crazy,” you said once the phone picked up after the first ring, “you can delete that story, i saw it.”

jaemin let out a hearty laugh, “hmm? but jisungie looks so cute, what if one of my followers wants me to put them on with him?”

you jeer, fingering hovering over the red button on the screen, “you definitely could’ve posted him without making sure your shirt is unbuttoned and they can see the chain that i bought you peeking through. what if they’re crazy like me?”

“don’t worry, nobody has you beat in that department.” jaemin added quickly, “you can come over if you want.”

did you want to? absolutely. you needed to rock his world so hard that it was likely to be rated a category 9.5 earthquake.

“you can come to me,” you quipped back, “and hurry up, i dont have a lot of patience. don’t change either.”

“you’re so demanding,” jaemin whined, a glint of playfulness evident in his voice, “i have to stop at my other hoe’s house first, but i’ll be there.”

“not even funny.” you hung up the phone, rolling your eyes.

focusing back on your room, you jumped up in a panic. you needed to change and also pick up the clothes you had thrown all over the place.

realistically, you didn’t know if jaemin was kidding about seeing somebody else first, but if he wasn’t, you had about twenty minutes including traffic before he got to your place.

you shoved all the loose piece of clothing into whatever drawer or laundry basket they would fit into. doing a once over your room, you were satisfied with what you were able to do.

looking at your floor length mirror, you didn’t care too much about what you had on. a big t-shirt with snoopy playing baseball on the front.

easy access for jaemin, but you should probably change your dingy halloween panties from victoria secret into something cute.

perhaps pink? that seemed on brand for tonight’s theme.

you were digging through your underwear drawer looking for that lacey pink thong you got from the mall a few weeks ago when you heard a knock on your door.

“fuck,” you said, slamming the drawer shut to no avail and rubbing your hands down your hair to smooth out any frizz, “fuck.”

the knocking got louder, causing you to practically trip on air as you ran to grab the door.

“took your sweet time letting me in,” jaemin pouted. leaning against the doorframe when you opened it, “that mad at me?”

rolling your eyes, you pulled him in by his silky pajama shirt and closing the door behind him, “guess she wasn’t that good if you got here within the same hour of calling.”

jaemin smiled, dropping down onto your couch and sliding his shoes off, “i’d say she was pretty damn good if i got done quickly and i’m not here.”

you crossed your arms, scoffing at his comment and began to walk to your bedroom.

“you’re such a dick.”

“i heard that,” he said, jumping off the couch to chase behind you, “i'm just kidding y/n, you know it's just you."

"are you sure? cause you keep making comments about other girls, are you trynna compensate? i don't care if you see other people."

jaemin laughed at you for the nth time this evening, making you want to just slam your bedroom door in his face and lock him out, but unfortunately for you, seeing jaemin in those pink pajamas and gold chain sent you into borderline ovulation.

you grabbed jaemin by the arm, leading him to sit on your bed and standing between his legs.

"it's just you," jaemin reassured, a hand coming up to rub your hip gently, "just like driving you crazy 'cause i know you're really fucking insane."

jaemin got a whiff of your secret cloud perfume as you leaned down and kissed his neck gently.

"i'm going to turn you every way but loose tonight," you whispered into his ear, teeth grazing the shell of his ear, "and i'm gonna show you how insane i am over you."

a shiver went down jaemin's back as you kissed down his neck and to his adam's apple, making sure to suck dark marks into his skin before placing your lips on his.

his arms wrapped your waist, pulling you down into his lap as he deepened the kiss. your hands found their way entangled into his brunette locks, moaning as he slipped his tongue into your mouth.

the two of you fought for dominance over the kiss, though jaemin just wanted to put up a good fight before letting you win.

you then slipped your tongue into his mouth, removing your hands from his hair and moving them down to his shoulders.

you gently pushed him back and onto the mattress, letting your fingers skillfully undo his pajama shirt, enjoying the smooth silk under your fingertips before pulling the shirt open.

jaemin pressed his hips up, hoping to get a small bit of friction on his growing erection and moaning when you rut your own hips down.

pulling away from the kiss, your chest heaved as you did a lookover his body. his plush lips swollen and glossy with spit, dark splots decorating his skin from earlier, his own defined chest moving rapidly as he tried to catch his own breath.

"you look so pretty under me, jaem," you complimented, your fingers dancing across his exposed collarbones and down his gold chain, "a sight only i should be allowed to see."

jaemin exhaled heavily through his nose, "a sight only for you. . please, don't stop. i want you. . i need you so badly, y/n."

how could you deny such a request from a pretty boy completely at your disposal? you weren't a cruel or dumb woman, so of course you'll comply.

you leaned down to attach your lips to his collarbone, biting and sucking gently as you made your way down his chest.

moving the pink fabric away, you let your tongue teasingly flick at his nipple to elicit a whiny moan from his mouth before taking his nipple between your lips.

"fuck y/n," he groaned, "that feels so good."

smirking to yourself, you pull off and stand up. the boy's eyes widened, trying to hold back another whine because why did you pull off? and why are you standing?

"c'mon," jaemin said, voice cracking slightly, "don't be a tease."

"a tease?" you titled your head as he sat up on his elbows, "if you beg, i'll consider."

a bright red hue cascaded over jaemin's face at your request, but he couldn't get any more pathetic than he already looked.

"y/n," he pleaded, "please do something. i am so undeniably hard, and if i don't feel those pretty lips or pretty hands wrapped around my dick that i know you love, i will implode and you'll be out of a bomb dick appointment and home."

a laugh escaped, jaemin really knew what to say to make you give into him. it's why you liked him honestly. he was funny and charming, and did in fact have a great dick that drove you insane. you used to be normal before he stuck his dick in you.

jaemin reached forward, grabbing your hand and placing it over his boner. that action alone could've made you cum in your panties because pathetic jaemin was probably your favorite jaemin.

you instinctively wrapped your fingers around it the best you could while it was restrained in those silky pants, slowly jerking him off and watching a bead of precum stain the fabric.

"see how hard i am?" he asked, breathily, "all for you. all because of you."

stroking your ego was one of the many things jaemin was good at, so you decided to play nicely and give him something to relief this tension you could feel growing in his body.

"take 'em off," you said, releasing his cock from your grip, moving back to give him room, "show me that pretty dick, jaem."

if you weren't standing in front of him, you were sure he would've fell face forward onto your carpet from how fast he was trying to get his pants down and off his hips.

once they were at his thighs, you leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on his lips before sinking down to your knees.

you were face to face with jaemin's cock, the tip an angry shade of red and precum still leaking from his slit.

spit began to pool inside your mouth the longer you looked at it, and you stuck your tongue out to swipe the precum dribbling from his cock.

jaemin moaned out, hands gripping the sheets beneath him, “stop. . put it in your mouth.”

you furrowed your eyebrows and looked up, “don’t make demands.”

the brunette’s jaw ticked, one hand coming up to your hair and the other grabbing the base of his dick.

he pushed your head back roughly, tapping the head of his cock on your lips and smearing more precum across, “don’t be a fucking tease.”

your eyes widened in surprise at the switch in jaemin's demeanor, but instead of giving him a hard time, you complied by opening your mouth for him.

without hesitation, jaemin shoved his cock into your mouth until it hit the back of your throat which caused you to gag and tears well up in your eyes.

"don't get sensitive now," he mumbled, swiping the tears from your face, "now be good and suck. show me why you're my favorite."

his favorite? you should been his fuckin' only like he said you were earlier. what is up with the inconsistency? he's gonna piss you off.

you used your tongue to lick the under part of his cock, pulling off to leave just the tip in your mouth.

jaemin's grip on your hair tightened, trying his best to let you have control, but wanting nothing more than to just fuck your throat until you're sobbing.

you pulled completely off his cock, bringing your hand to jerk him off while you used your tongue to lick a stripe on his balls and gently suck.

the brunette's eyes rolled back, a string of moans and high pitched whines leaving his throat as you continued to toy with his balls.

whenever your hand reached the tip, you would squeeze every so slightly, causing him to fuck into your hand.

jaemin was close, and you could tell by the way he was whimpering and trying to chase your hand.

you looked up at him, smiling to yourself before pulling off his dick completely, basking in his borderline sob at the loss of contact.

"why did you stop?" tears welled up in his eyes, feeling like he would explode, "you're so fuckin' mean."

cooing, you wiped tears away from his eyes like he did earlier, "cause i knew you were close, jaem."

he sniffled, grabbing you and pinning you down onto the bed in one swift motion.

sometimes, you forget how strong he can be, causing you to get even more wet if that was possible. your panties were sticking almost uncomfortably to your cunt, and you were hoping he would do something to relief that soon.

too lost in your own thoughts of pleasure, you didn't even realize jaemin was pulling your t-shirt up until the cool air hit your nipples.

he used his lithe digits to roll your perked nipples around, causing you to squeal at the contact.

"love the panties," jaemin teased, using one of his hands to snap the waistband against your skin, "so cute and so soaked. god, you really get off from anything as long as it's me, huh?"

"you fuckin' wish," you tried to bite, but it came out as a whimper when he pressed his hand against your core, allowing for some friction of pleasure.

"shhh," he said, "can't even muster an ounce of niceness when i'm about to fuck you?"

jaemin flicked your nipples, smirking at your almost pained moan before moving down to take your underwear off, eyes watching how they were sticking to your sopping cunt, "so wet for me, hm?"

you nodded your head in compliance this time, "all for you."

he swiped a finger up your slit, bringing it to his mouth and licking it clean, "taste so sweet, but act so so mean towards nana, wonder why that is?"

you huffed, hooking a heel behind his thigh and pulling him close so his cock would make some contact with your cunt, a noise escaping your throat when the tip came into rough contact with your clit.

"that needy? what was it you said earlier? beg. beg for it, dumb whore."

degrading was something you and jaemin never tried, but with how effortlessly it slipped out of his mouth, you wish he would've done it sooner.

"jaem," you grinded against his cock, "please fuck me, y'know you want to. please, i need it so badly."

jaemin just looked at you unimpressed, dragging his cock up and down your cunt, looking at how you falter when his tip catches your sensitive bundle of nerves, "beg more."

you wanted to burst into tears, he knows how much you want him, he can feel how wet you are and probably at more slickness slipping out as he teased you, "nana, please put it in. i'll stop being mean, promise. i need your cock--i need you. please fuck me."

his left hand came up to smooth your hair out, smiling all his pearls at you as he slowly pushed the fat tip of his cock into you, finally.

jaemin slowly pushed himself into your cunt, moaning at how easily you took his cock, letting his hand fall from your hair and place pressure on your clit.

"it's like you were made for me, fuck" he gritted his teeth, thrusting shallowly into you, "taking me so well every time, your cunt just fuckin' sucks me in.. ha."

all you could do was moan in response, eyes rolling back when jaemin's gold chain smacked you in the nose, "fuck, too good."

jaemin rubbed your clit roughly as he picked his pace up, hips snapping against yours as your arousal ran down your thighs and his balls, creating a wet sound between the two of you.

you clenched around jaemin's cock, letting out high pitched noises of pleasure as he fucked you harshly, the knot in your stomach tightening and traveling down your pelvis.

"fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck" you cried, placing your hand on his lower abdomen and trying to push him away, but he quickly snatched it and held it above your head, "jaem, fuck, please, it's too much."

jaemin ignored your pleas, "y'know you can take it, stop trying to run from it."

when jaemin snapped his hips harshly once more, you felt that knot in your stomach break and ecstasy overtake your senses.

you couldn't even muster the feeling of embarassment from how good you felt when liquid practically sprayed your thighs and jaemin's abdomen.

the boy tapped the head of his cock on your clit, groaning loudly as you continued to squirt before roughly showing himself back into you.

"jaemin," you squealed, back arching up, "i can't! i can't."

"you can," he said, fucking you harshly, feeling himself getting closer and closer, "and you will take this dick. you wanna whine about other people havin' it so bad, take it, slut."

with jaemin fucking you so soon after an intense orgasm, all you could do was sob and mumble his name. it wasn't going to take you long to cum again, and jaemin could tell about how you were clenching on his dick.

your fingers dug into his shoulders, creating red crescents as his chain smacked you over and over again, his orgasm approaching any second.

"i'm so close, angel." he whined, his thrusts starting to stutter and slow down, "fuck, can i come inside please?"

"o-of course," you nodded your head, your own orgasm approaching once more, "please cum in me."

one more snap of jaemin's hips and he let out a loud moan, stilling himself as white hot ropes of his cum began to fill you and create a creamy ring around his cock, "fuck, you were too good."

he began to thrust slowly to ride out your orgasms, kissing your forehead and whispering sweet praises into your ear.

once you pushed his chest away to let him know he was overstimulating you, he pulled out completely and laid next to you, chest heaving rapidly.

"y/n." he turned on his side, "i really do like you."

you smiled, grabbing his hand and intertwining your fingers, "i really like you too jaemin."

he pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek and pulled you closer to him, "it's always been just you."

end!

[delespresso]

DETESTATION ━━ Fiyero x fem!reader

author's note; this was previously titled 'kiss me' lol. i cant lie, i was sort of just winging it with this one — i've been doing a lot of rivals to lovers u guys, my brain is a little confused now 😭 idk if i liked this but i hope its good! <3

prompt; “You can’t just…kiss me to win a fucking argument, [NAME]!” “You’re right…but did it work?” ps; i changed it up a bit, oops

summary; the constant back and forth was totally out of total detestation. . . right?

━━ ☄. *. ⋆

It was the third invite to the Ozdust Ballroom within the month.

Ever since the Winkie Prince showed up at Shiz a few months back, he's been influencing quite a few trips to the scandalocious venue. In fact — he started it immediately on his first day.

She didn't plan on going this time either. Even if the invite had come directly from him, while he was following her tail all over campus.

"C'mon, princess, it'll be fun," Fiyero urged as he walked behind her like a little puppy.

Typically, she refused to even be in his vicinity. With her luck though, somehow Doctor Dillamond decided he needed a tutor to push him through history class — so of course, she was chosen, being the current top student.

"Think of it as me thanking you for helping me ace history," Fiyero continued.

He did, in fact, ace his history after that. A whole A solid.

"For the millionth time, Fiyero, no," she huffed.

He rolled his eyes at another rejection, still following her as they found their way into the dining hall. It was sparse at the moment, they were quite early this time.

"Your welcome for history. But that's it," she added.

She grabbed a tray, starting to put food on it. As she did though, the infuriatingly charming — and annoying — prince stole a piece right out of her plate.

"You should learn to live a little. See the nightlife. Go dancing. We don't live forever, you know?"

She stared up at him as he just went on his little ramble about life.

"If you're worried about a dance partner—"

"I really don't care—"

"I'm sure Boq is very kind to help in that," Fiyero said with a sly smirk.

Respectfully, Boq was nice and cute in a way, but she would much rather drink a tub of toxic elixir.

She could only scoff in response, picking up her tray and finding a seat. Still he refused to let up.

"One night. Its just one night, it really won't kill you," Fiyero insisted.

"It won't, but I might kill you."

She set her tray down with a huff, but she didn't get the chance to sit yet before he was pestering her again.

"I've lived quite well, I wouldn't mind dying at your hands," he shrugged.

"Are you serious right now?" she scoffed. "I have a fork and knife an inch away from my hands, don't tempt me."

"Oh, how horrifying," he mock gasped.

Oh, this little—

"Truthfully, I find a death by my history tutor to be a beautiful exit," he continued with a smug grin.

"You have no sense of self preservation. My hands would be a painful way to die," she retorted.

He didn't miss a beat, grabbing her hands in his in such an oddly gentle manner that had her brain crashing for a moment.

"These soft hands? I find that hard to believe."

She blinked rapidly, just staring at the way he held her hands to his chest for no reason. Why was her head spinning? Why was her pulse rushing?

"You're infuriating," she managed to hiss as she pulled her hands away.

Really, she had no idea why this man annoyed her so much. She felt an irrational amount of irritation when he was around. Her head would sometimes go empty when she looked at him, her heart suddenly going too fast and her stomach feeling like it was floating.

Dislike. Pure, utter, dislike. Loathing, perhaps. Detestation.

Those were the only acceptable answers.

She ended up taking her lunch to go, bringing it with her to eat somewhere else where she could escape him.

"Come dancing tonight!" he tried again even as she stomped away from him and replied over without turning back.

"Eat grass!"

It was her roommate that dragged her to the Ozdust Ballroom that night. No one else.

Certainly not the persistent, annoyingly handsome prince. No.

She allowed herself to have fun for a while, dancing around with her roommate. She didn't catch a single glimpse of him so she assumed he bailed.

She would be absolutely wrong when she ended up twirling right into his arms.

Fiyero's hands were on her waist, keeping her right there as her hands ended up on his biceps. He grinned down at her, that casual and laidback smile he always had.

"You came."

"Not because of you."

He chuckled at her quick defensiveness. It was cute to him. Taking her hand, he gave her a quick whirl before pulling her close again.

"Of course not," he agreed.

"Plenty of other reasons to come to a party," she nodded.

"Mhm."

"Nice ambience, people in nice outfits," she started to list aimlessly.

"Yes, they do dress up nice," he continued to agree.

"Good music, exceptional dancing—"

"You dance well."

"Random excuse to dress myself up too—"

"You look lovely."

"The lights are quite nice too, all blueish—"

She didn't get the chance to keep yapping when suddenly a pair of warm lips were on hers. It felt like she was on fire. A good kind of fire. When she opened her eyes again and their lips parted, she met his gaze under the lights.

Her lips were parted, her breath catching. Her face was definitely flushing and Oz— her head was reeling. She was too flustered she ended up fumbling her words.

"You can't just kiss me to win an argument, Fiyero!"

He laughed at her reaction. In hindsight, he should've probably not do it out of nowhere. But her reaction was priceless.

"Yeah, probably not. But it shut you up," he mused.

She stared up at him, eyes wide as she was clearly baffled.

"You need to stop finding excuses, princess," he teased, giving her yet another whirl.

Her dress flared out before she ended up back with him, flush against his chest. Whatever she felt for him was strong. Though she was starting to suspect it wasn't actually detestation.

She'd likely been in denial.

"You need to not kiss someone without permission," she retorted anyway.

Fiyero only smiled, but at least he nodded sincerely with a bit of a shrug.

"Fair enough. Sorry," he agreed. "Can I have a redo?"

She raised a single brow up at him, this time catching up with the dance way better than when she initially ended up in his arms. A coy, almost teasing smile pulled on her lips as she casually ended up leading the dance.

"Let's see your dancing first, Winkie Prince."

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[rufwooff]

Weird question so feel free to ignore, but in your different species AU can gecko!Donnie lose and regrow his tail like real geckos?

I think a lot about the fact that he dropped his tail during the fight with Shredder at the end of the first season

don't worry, the tail will grow back!

...but it's much worse than the first one, which will make Donnie hate it. inactive and inappropriate in color. over time the tone will even out, but it'll take him a long time to get used to it (this idea is still raw, so perhaps there will be an update in the future)

AND THIS

@khlegacynexus yes, he won't lose his arm (unless I change it-)

@j3llyfishssh

[rene-darling]

WOULD- he send n00ds? And how?

...would these modern college AU genshin men send n00ds to you?...

...Xiao...wanderer...lyney...

Xiao

No.

Absolutely- not.

The very idea is preposterous and disgusting. And after all, he's heard wayyy too many stories of a person's nudes getting leaked, and he does not want his stuff all out there.

He trusts you, yes. But especially at the beginning of your relationship, there's not enough trust for him to do that.

Xiao doesn't usually go to frat parties, but his friend is the one throwing this one so he felt obliged to go. What could go wrong?

Xiao doesn't drink, nor does he party, but after chugging drink after drink and being sat in a circle playing truth or dare, his tipsy mind is feeling rather- ballsy.

So it goes as follows, he picks dare and gets dared into sending nudes to the last person he's messaged, Xiao's great at keeping secrets so no one knows that you're dating, truth be told- even in his drunken state if the last number he texted had been anyone else, he wouldn't have done it.

But it's you. So his drunken mind agrees. He takes a rather risky photo, some alcohol is dripping from his mouth, sweat runs down his forehead, his back is arched and he gives such a sultry look. Then, he presses sent. The rest of his night is spent partying and drinking more, so his memory of doing this fades into bliss- that is, until the next morning.

Accompanying his painful headache is a certain memory, that makes him physically gag in remembrance, he rushes to check his phone, hoping- praying that you didn't see it- he thinks he's gonna faint from embarrassment when he sees the little *seen* at the bottom of the text.

Fuck. You saw it. You didn't even respond- he shoves his head into the pillow screaming externally and internally- you fucking saw it! And-...you didn't even respond..does that mean you don't like it..? Wait. That's the least of his worries!!!

He's happy about the fact that he doesn't have to see you in his first few classes. But then, it's time for a class that you both have together.

He has half the mind just to skip, but eventually, he has to face you, better be it now than later right?

Whatever, it'll be fine, he'll just explain to you- that he didn't mean it, he was drunk n at a party he wasn't thinkin-

Suddenly Xiao hisses as he's pulled into the janitors closet on his way to class, he swiftly turns his head to glare at the person who did this- it's you.

"So, Xiao, about the pictures you sent. I called you at least 10 times after those, but..you didn't answer." He opens and closes his mouth like a fish, his whole plan goes out the window as he just meekly stares up at you. This wasn't what he expected, but it wasn't something he disliked-..perhaps...he should send some to you even when he has clarity of mind?

Wanderer

Far too skeptical to entertain such a thought.

If you mention it first he'll just scoff at you and give you a dirty glare "Do I look like one of your whores?" "But baby- you're my only whore not one of them-" expect to get a glare from him the whole lecture, in and out of the class. His stare is practically sending you a death threat

Later, if he catches himself thinking about what you asked of him he cringes at himself and the thought.

He's not one to trust people easily, he's been stabbed in the back, and betrayed far too much to be vulnerable enough and to trust you enough to send nudes.

His head runs wild, what if you didn't like what you saw? What if you decided he was so ugly you needed to share those photos with those around you? What if, what if what if.

It's only later on, deep into your relationship that the thought of sending pics crosses his mind once more.

He's tapping his foot harshly against the ground. He's sitting at his seat as students pour into the lecture hall, his eyes scan the room as he sees you walk in and wave at him, just like always. You sit next to him, but he just can't maintain eye contact.

He has his phone in his right hand, staring at the screen intently as the sound of the classroom processes as background noise for him. Should he? What if you don't like it? What if you just meant it as a joke and you'll actually get disgusted once you gaze upon the photos..?

He sighs resting his head on his desk in contemplation. 'I mean...I took some measures just in case, I'm sending it on snap so she can't save or look at it again..fuck-..it should be fine..right..?' his thoughts are jumbled but ultimately he- "fuck it." And he presses sent.

Now it's just a matter of waiting for you to check your phone, it's like the clock is ticking extra slowly and you're doing this on purpose, aren't you? You heard the ding so check the goddamn phone already- and then you picked up your phone, once you noticed it was your boyfriend who texted you, you glanced at him, a confused expression, he's sitting right next to you- so why would he- oh.

Almost immediately you duck your phone down under your desk, you don't want to share this sight with any eyes that aren't yours.

"..why now? Fuck- you look pretty..?" Your mumbling- he has you mumbling. That's a good thing right?

And- and you complimented him- that means you liked it right?

He's such a brat, sending you a photo of his back arched, his tongue sticking out as he was wearing a short skirt with thigh highs, you could catch a glimpse under it from the picture- in which you could tell he wasn't wearing anything.

Your boyfriend who loved baggy clothes and dark styles was wearing a pink flirry skirt!

Heats pooling in your pants as you glare at him,

He had a smug look on his face- looking oh so proud. Anyways- he thought you would wait and fuck him after class. But once he felt your hand creeping up his thigh his eyes widened in shock as he realized you had no plans to wait until after the lecture.

lyney

Agrees.

Well- he's definitely startled at your request, out of all things...this is what you desire most?

"mon amour- out of all things I- gulp didn't expect you to ask for n-...indecent photos." He's startled to say the least,

But he's not completely against the idea of it.

Your darling lyney is a magician, quick on his feet, he quite quickly puts that flustered face away to replace it for a rather cheeky one.

"Mon amour, I knew you missed me whenever I was busy practicing for my shows but to this extent! my-"

"forget it." His smug attitude is a turn off. At times.

Letting go of the idea you didn't really think he would go through with it anytime soon.

You don't expect anything unusual to happen today, like always you kiss lyney good luck for his show before heading to the audience to watch him perform from there.

Lyney's cheeky grin is noticed by you, but you just assume he's giddy for his show, heading into the audience to wait for your boyfriend,

you hear a ding. And as you open the message you drop your phone to the ground. It's a simple picture, it's of lyney, he sends you pictures of himself on the daily so what was so shocking about this one?

Well- for starters he's naked. Tied up with intricate red ropes, they look tight, especially around his thighs- wait. You recognize those ropes, they're the same ones he's gonna use for his performance today!-

And he does. Flaunting around those ropes in his performance, the same ones from the damn photos.

Lyney walks into his dressing room as usual- that is before he's pinned to the wall by none other than you.

"oh? Are you that excited to congratulate me on today's performance?" As your hand tightens around his wrist he starts to feel even more giddy

"what the fuck was that? " "Hm? Did you mind? It was a present." He's so smug.

"no- the ropes. You used the same ones from the performance didn't you- you cheeky fuck-"

"the ropes are over there, if you plan on doing something you should hurry, I have a fan meet n greet soon~" "oh I'll hurry alright."

You didn't hurry, for some reason unknown to his fans, the magician was unable to attend the meet n greet.

[chlix]

baby, it's cold outside (no seriously it's crazy out there)

bf! chan x gn! reader: your car breaks down in a snowstorm and you have to walk home. chan is there to comfort you and warm you back up

pairing: chan x reader

genre: hurt/comfort, fluff

word count: 4.1k

warnings/tags: snowstorms, car trouble, sickness, a long series of unfortunate events that leave the reader miserable for most of the fic

a/n: this is a request from @caticorn61 who wanted chan being apologetic for not answering his phone after reader's car broke down. this is perhaps more than what u asked for 😅 but i hope you enjoy it anyway!

You are on a historic run of bad days.

You've never considered yourself to be particularly unlucky, but this past week has had you rethinking that orientation. Everything that could go wrong, did go wrong. On Monday your alarm didn't go off, making you late for work. Even worse, there was a meeting you'd forgotten about, so you had to slide awkwardly into the back of the room and pretend you didn't feel everyone's annoyed gazes. Tuesday was grocery shopping day, but you found out they discontinued your favorite brand of chips, and raised the price of an alternative, so you were forced to go home chip-less. Then, when you tried to take the groceries out of the car, one of the bags split open and sent your eggs, cheese, and blueberries crashing to the ground, buried in slush and snow. A total waste. Wednesday you woke up to find your heating had shut off in the night, and you were now shaking fit to break apart. Although maintenance promptly fixed your radiator, you developed an itch in your throat that only grew throughout the day and had developed into a full-blown cough by the next morning.

Which is where you are now on a subzero Thursday morning, ill and irritated and crawling your way towards the end of the week.

Your boyfriend, Chan, talks to you on the phone in soothing tones.

"I'm sorry your week has been so rough, baby," he says, and you can hear the dripping sympathy through the phone. "I know how it feels when little things pile up like that."

"I just don't know if I can take it anymore," you tell him. "It's like I've been cursed. I'm afraid if I walk outside a piano will fall on me and crush me."

You're half-joking when you say that, but Chan can hear that the other half is vaguely on hysterical.

"I don't think anyone is moving pianos in this weather," he says very reasonably. "Just stay away from luxury apartments if you're worried."

You set your bag down and put your face in your hands, taking slow, deep breaths. Your phone is on speaker, and you can hear Chan hum, trying to comfort you even though he's in his own dorm across the city.

"It'll all be okay, Y/n. And I'll see you this weekend, yeah? I'll come over Friday night and you'll have me all to yourself. Just stay strong."

You exhale, long and loud. "You promise?"

"I promise. Be strong for me, babygirl."

You blink the dampness out of your eyes and straighten up. "Okay. I can do that."

"And drink some tea. Your voice sounds kind of rough."

"Don't get me started again, please."

By the time you hang up, you don't feel understood, but you do feel seen. You fill up a thermos with tea, put on your coat, and mentally prepare yourself to leave the apartment.

It's only two more days, you remind yourself. The weekend will fix me. It'll break this curse that's been placed upon me. You force yourself to have a positive outlook. You will not have another bad day. You will be strong.

All day, you force yourself to react to every potentially meltdown-inducing incident with grace and poise. You realize you forgot your lunch and have to eat cheap candy from the vending machine for lunch? That's totally fine. Your boss adds another item to your to list, forcing you to stay later to finish everything and close up? You really don't mind. Your best friend texts you that she's been stalking her ex on Instagram again and you won't believe it but he already has a new girlfriend, y/n, can you fucking believe it, we've only been broken up for like two weeks and he's buying her fucking jewelry, and you respond what an asshole. he has a new gf and he didn't block his ex? while your eye twitches.

By the time you finish all your tasks and close up, your face hurts from holding a smile you don't feel. You're the last one out, so you make sure the building is locked and make your way across the empty parking lot to your car. The forecast predicted snow tonight, and already the ground is littered with white. The flakes are fat and sticky- they're already building up on the undisturbed portions of pavement. You have to quickly brush off your windows and mirrors before you can get into your car, slamming the door behind you.

You made it. You survived. It was a godawful Thursday but you conquered it.

"One more day," you whisper to yourself. "Just one more day."

You lock the door and put the key in the ignition. The dashboard lights up and the engine turns.....and turns....and turns.....

A rock forms in your stomach.

"No," you say. "No no no no no." You twist the key again, but the engine whirs and whirs and whirs...and does not turn over. Your car does not start.

It's not news to you that your car is a piece of shit. You and Chan discuss this almost every night- what to do about this fuckass car. You've been resistant to letting him help you pay for a new one, partially because that's a lot of money and partly because you're sentimentally attached to the old rustbucket. You inherited it from a family member as a birthday gift, and so despite it being less than reliable you're hesitant to seek solutions. It's your first car, after all. It's a part of you now.

In this moment, however, you want to throw all that sentimentally down the drain along with the keys to this absolutely useless fucking rustbucket of a vehicle.

Not to worry, you tell yourself. I'll just call Chan to come get me. We can deal with my car in the morning.

You take out your phone and call him. The call rings out.

You stare at your phone, confused. It's not like him to ignore your calls, especially not at this hour. It's pitch black with winter but it's still arguably early in the night. Chan is likely to still be awake, but it's unlikely he's doing any kind of official task. And it's so late that he would know to answer; you would never call him for something frivolous at this time of night. You call again.

No answer.

Your patience is running thin now. You consider calling your best friend, but she's out of town visiting family. Your other friend, Seohyeon, doesn't have a car, and her boyfriend's car is currently being repaired. The bus you sometimes take is about a fifteen minute walk down the street, but it'll have stopped running this far out by now, so you'd have to walk to a further bus stop and then go to the transportation terminal and connect, which would take over an hour. You could walk to the subway, you think, but you lost your subway card weeks ago and never got around to replacing it, and honestly it just seems like a whole ordeal you can't bring yourself to stomach right now. Chills go down your spine, and you can't tell if it's from the cold or from the increasing precarity of your situation.

You try the engine again. No dice.

You call Chan again. Voicemail again.

You lean your head on the steering wheel and take long, deep breaths. Outside your window, the wind is picking up, making the snow fall at a diagonal instead of straight down. It would be terrible to walk in, especially because the direction you need to go to get home would cause the snow to blow right in your face. Your throat is killing you, but your thermos of tea is long since empty. Maybe you should just go back into the work building and hunker down for the night. Maybe you should sit in the car and turn into an icicle. Your head is a foggy mess, thoughts twisting all around. You're getting hysterical again. You can feel yourself cracking to pieces.

Think, y/n. Who else can you call?

You're all out of people you know personally, but you could call an Uber. It's pricey and arguably unsafe, and you normally wouldn't, but these are extenuating circumstances. It solves the problem of being stranded, and again, you can deal with your car at a later point. And at least when Chan finally calls you back, you'll be safe at home, so he won't have to feel guilty about missing your calls three times.

You lean back in your seat and open the Uber app. Thankfully you still have it installed, and it still has all your info in it from the last time you called someone to take you home. Just as you're about to finish the transaction, your phone freezes. The screen flashes, then goes dark. You press the power button once, then again, frantically.

Your phone is dead.

Immediately, you scramble for your console, searching for a power cable to connect the phone to the car battery. Your cable is gone. You remember, horrified, that you took the cable out of your car because the one in your living room at home had started fraying. You meant to replace it but you never did. You're normally pretty good at leaving the house in the morning with it mostly charged.

But it's nighttime now, and your battery is dead. You have no charging cables, which means you can't call an Uber. You can't call anybody. And you can't even go to the subway now because your debit card is on your phone, so you can't refill your subway card.

A terrible despair fills you.

You have to walk home in a snowstorm.

As soon as the thought materializes, tears start to well in your eyes. This is too much for you to take, would be too much for you even if you'd had a perfectly good day today. This isn't fait. How can this be happening to you? Why is the universe punishing you like this? And when is it going to stop? Again you wish you could just sit in your car and turn into an icicle, let someone else defrost you in the morning. You think having a piano fall on your head would be better than this.

Eventually you manage to get yourself to calm down. Sitting in this car freezing isn't gonna do you any good. It'll only get colder by the hour. You need to walk to the far bus stop and catch another bus before they actually stop running, and you really are stranded instead of just doomed to walk forty minutes in a blizzard.

As if there's a difference, you think bitterly as you put your useless phone into your bag and bundle everything up. You put your gloves back on, and your hat. You step out of your car, slamming the door behind you, and zip up your jacket. Of course, you hadn't thought to wear a scarf today, so your face will just have to freeze. After only 30 seconds you feel your lips cracking.

"Okay," you whisper. "Okay okay okay okay."

You set off in the direction of the bus.

-/-

The journey is long and cold. It's not so much the temperature as the fact that you never have the chance to get used to it because it just keeps getting holder as the night wears on. It takes a ridiculously long time to walk to the bus stop, because you're fighting headwind every step of the way. You want to close your eyes against the snow, but if you do that you'll veer off course or fall into the road or trip on an ice slick and die, so you brave the stinging and push forward. Then you wait at the bus stop so long that your already sore feet start to scream with pain. Your phone is dead, so there's no way for you to track the bus, but you conclude you must have just missed the previous one as it takes a full thirty minutes for it to come again. By the time the bus pulls up in front of you, your feet are almost buried, and when you take your seat, every part of you squelches and slides as the snow melts, drenching your clothes.

The bus is at least warm, and so is the transport center, but the second bus drops you off another twenty-five minute walk from your apartment and you're forced to walk- you guessed it!- uphill. Your calves are screaming from the exertion, and from cold, and from keeping your balance as you trudge through the piling snow. You have a death grip on your keys- if they were to fall out somewhere between work and home you would simply lie down on the ground and let the snow bury you. It would be more than you could take. But your keys stay in your tightly clenched fists, and soon your apartment building becomes visible through the dark and haze. You want to cry tears of relief but your tear ducts are frozen shut.

By the time you traipse up the steps of your apartment, you feel more popsicle than person. You are so cold. Your hands shake so much it takes you a few tries to get the keys from your pocket and stick them in the lock. You step inside, sagging as the heat blasts you in the face. All you want to do is collapse into bed and curl under your blankets where the world can't see you, to get a little bit of sleep before your torture begins anew tomorrow. The thought of going to work on Friday strikes a physical pain in you. You've barely survived today, and yet tomorrow looms terrible just out of reach.

You go to turn on the lights only to realize that the lights are already on. Your heart skips a beat. Did someone break into your apartment? Should you turn around and flee? But you don't have a car, and you certainly aren't walking back to the bus stop. You have nowhere to go.

A figure turns the corner and you flinch back, hands half-raised in some pathetic attempt to defend yourself-

It's Chan. He turns the corner and it's your boyfriend, standing on your tile floor in sweats and a big sweater, eyes bright and twinkling with how excited he is to see you.

"Hey, sweetheart," Chan says. "You're finally back. I saw you called earlier and got worried something was wrong."

You burst into tears. You're crying before you even know it, violent sobs that shake you and make water droplets roll off your soaked hair. Salt burns your frozen tear ducts, and snow is slipping down your collar, but all these small discomforts are overshadowed by the pure and all-consuming relief that your boyfriend is here in the flesh, asking after you and taking care of you, and you can finally stop fighting to keep it together. You can rest.

Chan makes a sound of alarm and rushes forward to grab you as you start to list.

"Baby? Hey, hey, what's wrong? Christ, you look terrible. Are you sick?" He tries to put his hand against your forehead but pulls it away just as fast. "You're cold as ice, y/n."

"I w-walked home," you try to explain. Your tongue is thick in your mouth, and it's hard to get enough air to speak through your sobs. "Car broke down, phone died, b-bus was late."

"Fuck, sweetheart. I'm so fucking sorry. That sounds terrible."

His validation of your misery just makes you cry harder. Chan pulls you into a fierce hug and you bury your face in his shoulder and absolutely lose it. All the stress of the last week crashes down on you at once, your misery overwhelming you. You grab at his clothes with gloved hands, and there's about four layers of clothes between you, and it's not enough, you want to be closer. But at the same time you can't make yourself pull away from Chan's embrace. He whispers soothing words in your ear, rocks you back and forth, presses closed mouth kisses to any part of you he can reach. He doesn't shush you, or try to calm you down. He just lets you have the emotional release he knows you sorely need.

When your cries start to slow, he gives you one final squeeze to catch your attention, and whispers, "We need to get you out of these clothes, hmm? Does that sound okay?"

You swallow the last of your sobs and nod morosely.

"Okay then. Let's take your jacket off. It's soaking wet by now."

You step back from Chan, still holding on to his arm as you stumble and sway. You're so tired. Standing up for even a second longer is too big of an ask.

"Just lean on me. It's okay, I won't let you fall."

Together, you unfasten and take off your heavy winter coat, letting it fall to the floor with the slush you dragged in. Chan is the one who crouches down to untie your shoes, and you lean on him for support as you remove one foot, then the other.

"Good job," he praises, pressing a kiss to your snow-soaked hair. "Let's get you warmed up now."

He leads you to the bathroom and starts the water running in the tub. You listlessly undress, leaning on the counter for support when you need it. While the tub is filling, Chan tries to leave, but you catch him by the shoulder on his way past you, stopping him in his tracks.

"Stay?"

"Of course I'll stay," he says. "I just want to get you a change of clothes."

You hesitantly let go of him, and he flashes you a reassuring smile before he slips out. You sit down on the toilet and wait patiently for his return, watching the water fill the tub slowly and feeling your thoughts move sluggishly in your brain.

The sound of the water stopping jolts you back to the present. Chan is back, in a regular t-shirt this time, leaning over the bathtub to make sure the water is the right temperature. Deeming it good enough, he turns back to you and stretches out a hand to you.

As soon as you sit down in the warm water, you feel about ten times better. The warmth unties some of the tension that coils your muscles, and it quells the shivering that had started up as you were sitting on the toilet waiting to be told what to do. Chan urges you to slide down so you're almost submerged, making sure almost all your body is enveloped in warmth, and starts dumping warm water over your head, soaking your hair and washing out the remnants of grime and slush. He's quiet as he does it, humming a low tune, and you close your eyes and let him do as he wants. When he's done, he taps your shoulder, and you sit up, mourning the loss of warmth as your back and chest are exposed to the bathroom air.

"Do you mind?" he asks. You shake his head, uncaring of what he's referring to. You'd let him do anything to you in this state. It turns out "anything" means washing your back, so you again sit still and let him do as he pleases. The pressure of his hands and the sound of his voice, still humming, gradually soothe your mind and body. You stop shivering and tune back into your surroundings.

He's subtly watching your face, so he sees when you come back to yourself and drops his neutral expression. "Back with me?"

You nod. The floaty feelings from being cold and hysterical are gone, but that just means the exhaustion of your day is hitting you full force. You hold out your hand for the washcloth so you can clean the rest of yourself, and he hands it over, but doesn't move to leave, which you appreciate. Now that you're calmer, you think you might be a little more embarrassed asking him to stay.

"I know you said this morning you were cursed, but I didn't think you meant literally," he tries to joke.

You let out a long breath. "I didn't think I meant literally either."

"Wanna talk about it?"

You shrug as you rub the washcloth along your legs, wincing when you remove your still-freezing toes from the water. "What can I say? It was a shit day at work with a shit ending."

"You said your car broke down."

You squeeze your eyes shut. You are not in the mood for this argument. "It just wouldn't start. I don't know what's wrong with it."

"Y/n..." He doesn't say anything more. He knows as well as you do that you'll get nowhere. It's enough to set you off though, now that your exhaustion is making you irritatble.

"It wouldn't have mattered either way if you'd picked up the phone when I called you," you snap. It's unfair and you know it, but before you can begin to feel remorse, Chan's face turns to one of guilt.

"I know, I'm sorry. I still had it silenced from work and didn't realize. When I saw that you called me I tried to call back but the calls didn't go through."

"My phone died. That's why I didn't call an Uber."

Chan shakes his head. "I would call this comical if it wasn't so clearly stressing you out."

"You can still call it comical. Just not within earshot."

"Surely you think better of me than that."

"I do," you say, completely serious. "Sorry. I'm not mad you didn't answer. It's just been a shitty day."

Chan squeezes your shoulder in understanding. "It's alright. I get it."

"I'm really grateful you're here," you say, and you're getting choked up again, emotions all out of whack. "I've never been so happy to see anyone."

"You called three times. Since I couldn't get a hold of you, I hoped you'd still come home and we could talk here."

"You're too good to me."

"I'm exactly as good as you deserve." He leans down to kiss you, long and loving and warm, and the last of the chill in your bones slides away.

-/-

The next morning, Chan calls you in sick before you even wake up. He has to leave for the morning, but comes back around noon with ingredients to make you soup and tea, and rouses you for lunch with all the care and gentleness in the world.  He curls next to you in bed despite your protests that you'll get him sick, but then, it's not like you protest that hard. You're still feverish and needy, and maybe it's not the most ridiculous thing in the world to want to lie in your boyfriend's arms as you recover from what you're pretty sure is mild hypothermia mixed with the flu.

"We were gonna hang out this weekend," you say morosely. "Now I'm trapped in this bed and you're stuck taking care of me."

"Taking care of you is my favorite form of hanging out," he informs you, cleaning away the mug and bowl to bring back to the kitchen. "And hanging up the phone on your boss is my favorite passtime."

"You did not hang up on them," you gasp, hand over your mouth.

Chan shrugs, unbothered. "They seemed a little too annoyed about my request to not tow your car out of the parking lot. I made it very clear that it better be there when you get back on Monday or else."

"So selfless. You could've let them tow it and finally been victorious."

He turns from the kitchen and sits back down on the bed. "You like that car. I'm not going to keep insisting you get rid of it when it means so much to you. Even if I do blame it for the events of yesterday." You glare and he puts his hands up defensively. "If it's not my fault or your fault then I have to blame the car. Sorry not sorry."

"Blame the cursed spirit following me around," you say, sinking miserably into the blankets. "It possessed the engine of my car just to torment me."

"Even more reason to get rid of it."

You're feverish and tired, but the conversation makes you smile nonetheless. "Ask me again when my fever breaks if you still think I should keep it. Maybe it'll burn away the sentimental attachment."

"Don't get my hopes up."

You close your eyes as Chan kisses your forehead, and you slide easily into pleasant dreams.

[eunandonly]

( 양정원 ) ⸻ 𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝒾 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝒸𝒽𝓇𝒾𝓈𝓉𝓂𝒶𝓈 𝒾𝓈 𝓎𝑜𝓊 ! ⟡

IN WHICH ⸻ jungwon gives you a little christmas surprise

( pairing ) ❜ jungwon x f!r 1092wc + fluff, christmas, angst if you squint contains ! kissing, skinship, swearing / archive

"are you really not going to be here for the christmas?" you ask as you talk to jungwon on the phone. you're sitting by the armchair near the window, staring at the snow pile up outside as the fireplace cracks near you. "sorry princess," jungwon said on the other end of the line. "maybe next year."

you can't help but let out a sigh, looking longingly at the winter wonderland outside. "i was so excited to have you over so we can build a snowman and have some time together. it snowed here, you know." jungwon left town last year for university leaving you behind, and despite what you've been telling yourself, you miss him. a lot.

you had been counting down to christmas all year, the days marked not with numbers but with quiet, vivid imaginings. you’d pictured you and jungwon sitting together wrapped in a soft blanket in the living room, surrounded by fairy lights whilst sipping on hot chocolate. a day spent outside building a snowman, recording the chaotic process with your ancient camcorder. jungwon is all you want for christmas, but it’s already christmas eve now, and jungwon isn’t here.

"gosh, i miss you so much wonnie," you say, pouting. "can't believe i'm left behind in this stupid boring town whilst you're in the city. there's nothing to do here- more sheeps than humans, i swear."

jungwon's laugh makes you smile despite your sadness.

"i miss you so much as well. i've got to go now, y/n. i promise i'll see you soon, okay?"

you roll your eyes, leaning back in your chair frustrated. "yeah, when is soon, jungwon? when is soon-"

jungwon ends the call, the line disconnecting with a little beep. you stare down at your dark screen in disbelief before letting out a huff.

asshole.

you wonder for a split second whether he's not coming back because he's not interested anymore. perhaps he found a prettier, smarter, nicer girl in university whom he's going to spend time with for christmas.

no, jungwon won't do that. he loves you.

right?

but if he did, would he really not come back for christmas without a proper explanation as to why?

and the way he ended the call with you so abruptly- maybe another girl was with him, holding his hand as he called you.

you throw your phone down on the sofa next to you, shaking your head.

"no, jungwon won't do that. he loves me." you say to yourself, saying it out loud as if it'll help convince you.

but can you really blame jungwon if he's found someone else? you aren't that pretty, and you don't even go to university with him.

amid your worries, there’s a knock on the door.

it’s soft, almost hesitant, but it breaks through the stillness like the first note of a song. your brows furrow.

you get up from the armchair, wondering who it is. it's definitely not the delivery man- you haven't ordered anything recently. a friend, maybe? no, they're all away, some of them to the city, some to the beach and some to warmer countries to flee from the biting cold of december.

so who is it?

"coming!" you call out, walking over to the door. you take in a deep breath, bracing yourself for the gust of icy cold air that's sure to blow in if you open the door.

you turn the door knob, immediately met with the cold wind and blizzard. and then you see him.

jungwon.

his cheeks are flushed pink from the cold, his dark hair peeking out of his knit beanie. he stands there, bundled in a thick coat, a dust of snow covering him and a small, gold wrapped box in his hands. he looks impossibly perfect against the pale winter backdrop, his smile soft, a little shy, but warm enough to melt away all your doubts and worries and frost in an instant.

“umm, merry christmas,” he says, his voice gentle and soft.

you stare for a moment or two, your breath caught somewhere between disbelief and relief, before stepping forward and throwing your arms around him. jungwon’s laugh is muffled against your shoulder as he lifts up from the ground to swing you to and fro like a little kid before putting you back down.

“you’re here,” you whispered. “i thought you couldn’t come.”

he pulled back from the embrace justice enough to look at you properly, and he sweeps away your hair from your face. “of course i’m here,” he murmurs. “i’ve been busy with university, couldn’t even talk to you on the phone that much, but i had to come.”

you feel your cheeks grow warm. “i thought you found someone else.”

“what?”

it sounds silly now, but you continue. “i thought you found a smarter, prettier girl at uni. thought you weren’t coming for christmas because you’re spending it with her.”

jungwon just laughs now. “you think i would replace you? princess, you overthink too much. i would never go off with another girl when you’re so perfect.”

he leans down to give you a sweet little kiss on the lips, and you smile.

“alright, let’s go in now before all this blizzard and cold gets in. let’s make a snowman together, and we can watch old disney together…”

✉️ : @icyy-hoon

[lxkeee]

TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN

-PART FOUR

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Seraphim Angel! Fem! Reader

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Genre: Angst (for now)

Warnings: Daddy issues.

Notes: this is a long one, 3k ish words lol.

PART THREE | PART FIVE | NAVIGATION

A month before the extermination happens, Charlie Morningstar, the princess of hell was sighing by the railings of the second floor balcony and overlooking the lobby of the hotel. So many things inside her mind, so many problems that she's not sure what to act on first. Her girlfriend is a former exorcist but she and Vaggie already talked it out so I guess that's one problem out of the way, Adam is bringing an entire legion of exorcists and they will be coming for her hotel first, and she has a half angel brother who seems to not like her!

Charlie sighed, running her hands through her scalp, feeling the strands of her blonde locks with her fingertips.

She stared at the balcony by the hallway of the second floor of the hotel, seeing the others renovate the hotel so that it'll be fit for battle. Charlie leans on the railings, looking down as they work. Unaware that Vaggie was approaching her from behind.

“So, when are you going to tell your dad?” Vaggie asked, making the blonde haired girl jump in surprise, “Ah fuck! You scared me...” Charlie says, placing a hand over her fast beating heart—from the surprise.

Vaggie muttered a quick apology and stood next to her, Charlie sighs.

“I don't know Vaggie, I still can't wrap my head around the knowledge that... I have a half angel brother in heaven.” Charlie says softly, eyes downcast and her shoulders hunched. Vaggie's eyes softened, placing a hand on her girlfriend's shoulder.

“Dad didn't even tell me about it. Does this mean he had another wife aside from mom?” Charlie says sadly, starting to wonder if her dad cheated. The question is on who? Who's the first wife? She shakes her head, guilty for thinking that way about her own father.

Charlie can still recall how the older boy that was supposed to be her brother looked at her with such hostility in his [e/c] eyes despite the smile on his face, the tinge of sarcasm hidden by the gentleness of his voice as he spoke to her and Emily. It was unnerving to see such facial expressions on someone who is carrying the face of their father and it was directed at her.

“I am sure your dad had a reason why he didn't tell you, he probably didn't know.” Vaggie muttered softly beside her. Charlie sighs and nodded. Perhaps Vaggie is right, she needed to speak to her father to know the truth.

Charlie's eyes landed on Husk and Angel Dust who are busy hammering extra wood to the walls, the two men seem to be getting closer these days. It puts a smile on the girl's face.

“He probably does.” Charlie says with a forced smile, finally looking at Vaggie. “I'll go and speak to him about this, I want to tell him or hear him speak the truth.” she says softly, rubbing her hands together nervously at the thought of confronting her father.

Vaggie smiled at her, proud that her girlfriend is determined despite being so nervous about it. Vaggie patted the girl's shoulder comfortingly, “I am sure that it'll go well babe.” she says and Charlie nodded, “I hope so.”

Lucifer expected to have a fun father-daughter hangout when Charlie called him that morning telling him that she'll be visiting as she wanted to talk to him. What he didn't expect to see such a worried look on his daughter's face, slight bags underneath her eyes when he opened the door to the palace for her.

His father's instinct immediately kicked in as he sensed that something was bothering or worrying her.

The grin on his face lowered as he gently placed a hand over the girl's shoulder, ushering her inside the palace. They walked the hallways of their home, towards the living room where the father and daughter sat down on the couch. “Charlie, sweetheart. It seems like there's a lot on your mind right now. Do you want to talk about it...?” Lucifer asked softly before clearing his throat, laughing awkwardly. Of course she wants to talk about it, she really called you that she'll be visiting as she wanted to tell him something!

“I mean, hahaha of course you want to talk about it that's why you visited.” he says awkwardly in-between chuckles and Charlie just smiled, a small chuckle escaping her lips before letting out a tired sigh.

Lucifer's chuckles die down as his eyes soften as he looks at his daughter, he wonders how her meeting with heaven went. Did she meet the seven virtues? Or did she meet with Sera?

To this day, Lucifer still doesn't know who the seventh virtue is as the last time he had a meeting with them, they were absent—had some important matters to deal with on earth at that time, he does know the angel goes by the name Raphael. He hopes that it was Sera, despite knowing the said woman is... Eh... Still a bad choice but might as well choose the lesser evil or strict.

“Dad..?” Charlie softly calls out to him, avoiding his gaze. Lucifer's thoughts were cut off as he heard his daughter's voice call out to him, “Yes...?” he spoke softly.

Charlie took a deep breath, mentally preparing for this conversation. It's now or never.

“Dad, do I have a brother?” Charlie asked softly, voice shaking slightly.

That single question made his ears ring, countless thoughts running on his mind. A brother? What did she mean by that? He thought, nervous.

He looked at Charlie in confusion, clearly not knowing what she was talking about, “I'm sorry, what? What do you mean Charlie?” he asked softly and worriedly, his first thought is that his twin brother might've gotten married and had a son without him knowing and since he and Michael share the same face, he assumes Charlie met Michael's son or something.

Charlie looked at him, genuinely surprised that her father doesn't seem to know what she was talking about. Her dad doesn't know.

“I met someone up there dad, he told me he was my half sibling and told me we shared the same father. If only you could see the coldness in his eyes dad, how his eyes got colder when he talked about you.” Charlie says softly, squeezing her hands tightly. Her body trembling slightly in frustration.

Lucifer's eyes widened in revelation, his heart thumping against his ribcage like a drum. It can't be... He thought to himself, his hand moving towards his lips in disbelief.

Don't tell me I left [y/n] while she was pregnant. I didn't even know she was pregnant!

He thought in horror, his skin turning paler at the thought. [Y/n], his first wife, his first love. He abandoned her for Lilith. He wonders if she was planning on telling him but didn't as he barely went home to her as he spent most of his time at the Garden of Eden.

Guilt. So much guilt.

After his fall he didn't stop thinking about her, regretting the choices he had made. Ending up burying his affections for his first wife as he knows he will be no longer seeing her again. Despite marrying Lilith, having Charlie, somewhere deep in his heart lies the love he still has for [y/n] that he chose to extinguish but very stubborn for him to kill the passionate fire for her.

Remembering her name is enough for tears to trickle down his cheeks, the teardrop passing by the red circles of his cheek.

Charlie looked at her father worriedly, he was silent for a few minutes and suddenly tears were streaming down his face.

“Dad...? Are you okay...?” she asked softly and worriedly, taking out her handkerchief from her breast pocket and wiped her father's tears away. This single act made Lucifer remember something, a distant memory when he was still in heaven.

“Do not cry my beloved, you know the elders are just like that. They are too closed minded to listen to new ideas, too scared to listen to your wonderful and beautiful ideas for creation.” [y/n]'s cooed softly at him, hand holding a handkerchief as she wiped his tears away after getting scolded by the elders. He was sobbing on her shoulders, upset about what happened but his wife is there, his wonderful wife always ready to comfort him.

“Promise that you won't leave me okay?” he asked in-between sniffles and [y/n] smiles and placed a kiss on his forehead, “I promise. You better promise to not abandon me too.” she says with a giggle and he nodded, locking their pinkies together in a promise, the wedding ring on their ring fingers shimmering against the radiant rays of the sun.

He broke that promise. He left her, he left her alone with their son.

That made more tears stream down on his cheeks, Charlie trying to calm him down and Lucifer sniffled and muttered a small thanks to her, opting to take the handkerchief and wipe his own tears away.

“No, but I will be.” he said, his voice raspy. He avoided his daughter's eyes, too embarrassed and guilty to look at her. “Did he tell you his name...?” he asked weakly and Charlie nodded, “Xavier Caeles.” she answered softly and his heart broke even more. Why wouldn't it? The last name is something he recognized, it's his first wife's last name. Caeles, which means heaven.

A single teardrop runs down his cheek. A smile filled with guilt was plastered on his beautiful face.

The realization that he was never there for his son, their son all throughout his life. Filled him with unimaginable guilt. He was never there for [y/n] nor there for his son, Xavier. What does he look like? Does he have the same features as him or is he a perfect combination between him and [y/n]?

Forget it, he hopes his son has [y/n]'s face, just imagining the pain the boy goes through every time he looks at a mirror and sees his face. Somewhere in Lucifer's heart knows that the boy, probably hates himself. He hopes he is wrong.

With a shaky breath, he gave Charlie a weak smile, “Xavier huh?” he says with a pained chuckle. His red orbs are downcast, filled with guilt. He doesn't even know the boy as he's absent from his life, [y/n] had to raise him alone and it's her first time being a mother too. He should've been there, he should've listened and stopped being so selfish and stubborn.

Charlie looks at him worriedly, placing a hand over his shoulder for comfort. “I hope you won't get offended by this dad but did you... Cheat on mom...?” she asked softly, he shook his head no.

“No... I didn't, not on your mother but... Your mother isn't my first wife...” he says softly, ashamed in admitting it. He didn't cheat on Lilith, he cheated on [y/n] with Lilith. He was such a fool. “I cheated on my first wife with your mother...” he says, voice cracking, “My actions cannot be excused but it is something I deeply regret and still do.” he added, wiping his tears away.

The gears on Charlie's head started moving, processing his words. Her dad married someone before her mom.

“... Why...?” she asks softly, squeezing his hands, Lucifer avoiding his daughter's eyes, “Your mother is such an amazing woman and I couldn't help but be mesmerized by her and in return, my feelings for my first wife were overshadowed by it.” he explained softly, guilt evident on his voice. His voice cracking, almost a whisper.

Charlie's eyes softened, her thumbs rubbing circles on her father's hand, “Do... Do you still love her...?” she asked softly.

Yes, he still does. He misses her every single day, a ghost of his past that is constantly haunting him, haunting him of his wrong choices in life.

With choked sobs, Lucifer nodded, “Yes, I still do...” he admits softly and Charlie smiles, even though it hurts to see her family split, she can move on. Her mother has already left and Charlie believes that her father deserves a second chance and she wishes that Xavier would get a second chance at happiness.

“I hope you'll get a chance to make things right, dad. You owe it to him, to them.” Charlie says softly, hugging the crying man.

“I hope I'll get that chance, Charlie... I owe it to them.” Lucifer whispers softly. Clenching his fists that he placed on his lap.

Xavier waited patiently for his mother to wake up, his mom just returned from work yesterday and is currently resting. He would've shared the tea with her if he didn't know any better but since he knows how tiring work in the human world is, he decided to let his mother rest. He doesn't want to add more to her plate.

Xavier took it upon himself to prepare breakfast, cooking some waffles and bacon for him and his mother.

Brewing her some coffee, he knows she loves it when he makes her coffee. Grabbing two white mugs to prepare the espresso shots, steaming some milk while he's at it too.

Finally done, he prepares the table, grabbing the white ceramic plates with gold accents and the spoon and fork made of gold. Arranging them on the table.

Now he waits.

[Y/n] soon emerged from the door to the dining room, already dressed up for the day. A flowy pastel purple dress that reaches her knees, her hair nearly brushed and styled.

Xavier got up from his seat on the table and approached his mother, giving the older woman a kiss on the cheek. “Good morning mother, I hope you were able to rest well last night.” he says softly and [y/n] giggles and places a gentle kiss on her son's forehead.

“I did my sweet sunshine,” she says with a smile, her eyes sparkling in happiness as she finally notices the breakfast that was already displayed on the dining table.

“Oh my! You already made breakfast? How sweet, thank you my sunshine.” she says with a small smile, her voice soft as she gently ruffles the boy's hair.

The mother and son duo sat across each other on the dining table, enjoying the dinner that Xavier had prepared.

Xavier was nervous, unsure how to talk about what happened a few days ago.

[Y/n] being a mother she is, sensed that something is bothering her son. Gently placing down the golden utensils onto the plate, the golden utensils making small clinking sounds as she did so. Lifting her head up away from the plate, she looked at Xavier worriedly.

“Is there something worrying you, my dear?” she asked softly and worriedly and Xavier sighed and nodded.

With a deep breath, he calms down his fast racing heart. “A few days ago... I met... Lucifer's... Daughter...” he says with a small whisper.

[Y/n] freezes up, it's been awhile since she last heard that name, the very man that kept haunting her, the man she kept looking for at every person she meets. Even after all these years, she never forgot him nor stopped loving him, despite the pain he has given her.

With a forced smile, she looked at Xavier, “Really? As expected.” she says softly with a smile but Xavier can see the pain in her eyes, it breaks his heart every time.

“You still love him, don't you...?” he asked her softly, already knowing the answer as she told him the answer before. Though, he doesn't know the reason why his mother never moved on.

“You already know but yes, yes I still do.” she says softly, her voice cracking. Xavier's eyes softened, placing down his own golden utensils onto his plate, the utensils clinking against the ceramic, the sound echoing off the white walls of the mansion that they call home.

“But why mother? Forgive me for being too forward but why do you keep holding on to him knowing how much pain he gives you unknowingly?” he asked softly, his voice cracking in emotions, desperate to know the reason why his mother loved the man so much.

[Y/n] took a deep breath, looking at his son's eyes, she has one reason why and she thinks it's time for him to know.

“Because my love for him is unconditional. Even though he broke my heart, I'll still love him because my heart is only his to break which is pathetic. My love for your father is never conditional, he could be off being happy to an another woman and I'll still love him, even if it hurts.” she explained softly and sadly and Xavier's heart breaks listening to her explanation, to her reason.

Despite him hating his father, hating his appearance. He yearns for fatherly love, he yearns for a complete family and he envies Charlie for having something that he wants to experience.

“Is that really your reason, mother?” he asked softly and she nodded, “I still love him, Xavier... I still really do.” she whispers softly.

“I understand, mother... Thank you for telling me.” he says in a whisper and [y/n] smiled weakly at him, “I am sorry for not being enough, I know that you yearn for a complete family and I wish I could provide you that but my commitment to your father is unchanging.” she says, ashamed.

She really wished that her stupid heart would stop loving the man who abandoned her and their son but it is too stubborn to let go. She tried therapy, she tried look for someone new and it all failed.

Lucifer held such a tight grip on her heart and just like she said, he can continue to break her heart and she won't stop loving him. But even so, she doesn't know how she'll react if she ever sees him again. Will she be scared? Will she have another panic attack in seeing him again? Will she freeze on the spot? Or will she run into his arms like nothing happened?

She didn't need to say it, anyone can tell that she developed major abandonment issues after her ex-husband left her. Constantly worried if she's doing okay, afraid that people will leave her if she's incompetent.

She even wonders if that was the reason he left, was she not doing enough as his wife? Was she that easily replaceable?

Xavier shakes his head, seeing his mother's distress face, standing up from his seat and takes a seat next to her mother, cupping his mother's face with his hands, his thumbs wiping away her tears.

“No, mother... You're more than enough... I love you more than anything.” he says softly and kisses his mother's forehead.

“I love you too, my sweet child... Thank you for being such an amazing son of mine.” she says softly to him, giving Xavier a small smile, telling her about the extermination can wait, he doesn't want to add more to her problems.

TAGLIST:

@valerie-36 @blackbleedingrose @adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @dou-dou @mezzyb0nb0n @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @koirb @galaxyj3lly @crystalplays28 @luleck @scootinonyourmom @rory-cakes @mixplara @crescent-z @bitchyzombienacho @kalisha2004 @altervex @nehy019 @napbatata @kouyoumarryme @sxgacxbe @kooidoom @ok-boke @random-3455 @izzieg3987 @snoozewritezz @dreamzaremyrealityy @hcneyiced @witchbunny1210 @ghostdoodlen @aikobakugou @just-here-reading @dzhanett-blog @des-deswain5621 @cocomollo @haleypearce @onyxstarhigh06 @nirvana5874 @shaebutter-baby

[verus-animus]

Hot Massage

"P-Please... S... S... Stop..." Jeremy tried to plead desperately, but his numb lips and face made it incredibly hard.

"Shhh... Don't speak. You'll only waste your energy." I shushed the handsome hunk that laid beneath me. Opening another bottle, I poured out the clear serum and massaged it into his firm chest. It quickly began heating up and his skin soften slightly.

"W-Why....." He asked. I could tell he was trying desperately to make his large muscles move, but unfortunately all it did was twitch his fingers.

"Why? I don't know, Jeremy... Maybe it's because of all those years back in high school that you bullied me and completely ruined my reputation and any chances of me getting into a good college, or maybe it's because of the 'accident' you caused which burned half of my face off... What do you think?" There was definitely a hint of anger within my voice, but I quickly calmed down and continued massaging his warm pliable chest.

"...I-I'm s-sorry...." He really meant it this time. Unlike all those other times he said it in front of his peers. But it didn't matter anymore.

"A bit too late for that, Jeremy... Even if I have forgiven you for all those years back then, the serum has already reached its full effect. There's really no going back now." I smothered my hands against his rippling skin and felt how they slowly began sinking into him. Into his flesh.

"...no...ah..." He gasped, as he felt me invade his very flesh. My elbows disappeared as I got closer and closer to his anguished numb face.

"Don't worry, you won't feel a thing. Once I push my head inside and overlap my brain onto yours, you'll never have a thought of your own again. From now on I'll control your every movement, your every breath, and your every heartbeat. It'll be my rugged hands running across these perfect pecs, my juicy ass squeezing dildos deeper inside, and my handsome scar-free face hungrily licking up all the residue from the bathroom mirror."

I gave his glazed-over eyes one last look and pushed my lips against his soft ones, before I plunged my entire head inside his. His fingers clenched together and he began gasping for air, as I moved around inside him and positioned myself correctly. As soon as I settled down my mind suddenly exploded with all of Jeremy's memories, dreams, and aspirations. I felt them embrace me and flow into me, until I felt myself own them as if they had always been mine.

I opened my new eyes just in time to see the last of the rippling effect on my new large chest settle down. As it did, I felt a torrent of unbridled cum unleash itself underneath the warm blanket.

It was done. Jeremy had taken everything from me back then; my life, my reputation, my future, my face... Now, I've taken it all back; the successful life, the promising future, and even the perfect face. This was a brand new start for me, the new Jeremy...

Happy New Year everyone! Thought I'd pop by and let you all know that I'm still around. I haven't been feeling very inspired lately, and with a lot of things going on in life I haven't really taken the time to properly write. Still, I thought I'd give you all a treat with this older draft I made a while back. Hope you all enjoy it, and perhaps you'll hear more from me this new year! /Verus <3

[harzilla]

Original post found here. https://www.tumblr.com/harzilla/760718001365549056/ohh-brain-rot-time-long-lost-sibling-au-except

Expanding on the idea. I want to thank @achromaticbibliophile for a lot of these ideas

Riddle and Yuu growing up in complete opposite lives. Riddle under strict parentage while Yuu grows up in a family similar to the Robinson's in Meet the Robinson's. A chaotic but loving family that sees failure not as a bad thing, but as a way to learn. Who finds a baby on their doorstep and adopts without hesitation. The two butting heads at first. Until the truth of Yuu being Riddle's sibling is revealed. Perhaps Yuu's hair is platinum blonde or even white. Perhaps Riddle is the Red Queen to Yuu's White Queen. Riddle who is introduced to Yuu's adopted family and it's all so chaotic, dinner nearly a food fight and afterwards he's brought into the kitchen to help make the dessert. Messing it up and he thinks it'll be another oyster sauce incident. But instead everybody cheers and ohh. It's actually okay. Yuu and him sharing the story of him messing up the tart after his overblot The family turns it into a silly joke. The dessert is missing something, why not oyster sauce? The family, having a contest to see who can create the weirdest dessert, and Riddle winning by making a traditional Queendom of Roses star gazey pie. Riddle, who finds himself laughing along with the rest of the family. Welcome to the family Riddle.

Leona, who has always been the unfavored. Who is brought to meet Yuu's adoptive parents. Leona, who had to convince Falena not to come but instead sends a note thanking the parents for raising the third Kingscholar child. Yuu's parents shocked to see their lost child come home sporting ears and a tail and bringing home a brother. Leona, who finds himself at ease when they ask him about his aspirations, his plans for the future, he's just Leona to them.

Jade and Floyd. Who grew up with a mother who was always worried about them. Eventually learning about a third eelver who was lost to the tides. One day a kid runs up to their parents with a baby wrapped in a towel. The adults panic but the couple eventually adopt the child. Yuu who doesn't have a clue until the day they go to the coral sea to retrieve the photo and transform into an eel mer. Jade immediately separating Yuu and bombarding them with questions while Floyd keeps the others away. Jade and Floyd who drag Yuu back to NRC.

J&F: Found our lost sibling.

Azul: What?

J&F: *dumping them into a tank* Found our lost sibling.

Rollo, who hates magic. Magic lost him not one but two siblings. Rollo, who plans to rid the world of magic. The masquerade invitation to NRC. Rollo, who is shocked when the previously uninvited Prefect looks strikingly similar to himself and his deceased brother. Perhaps he sees Yuu as an even bigger motivator for his plans. Magic took his siblings from him, and if he destroys it, then magic can never take Yuu from him again. Yuu who at the end tells him that yes, magic may have separated them but magic also brought them back together and perhaps magic may allow him to see the world they grew up in.

Malleus' was expanded on a lot and is practically a fanfic in onto itself.

This idea is actually thanks to @kitsun369

The Spade family, a set of baby paternal twins. One that looks like their father, and the other who looks like their mother Dilla. The parents separate after a particularly nasty divorce. Only for the baby with dad to disappear after their father is attacked and injured. The parents, but especially Dilla spend years mourning the loss of one child. One day, Deuce overhears his mom on the phone crying to his grandmother because she's afraid something will happen to Deuce if he doesn't get on the right path. She's already mourned one child. She can't bare to mourn another. That day Deuce decides to turn his life around, he never wants to see his mom cry like that again.

Deuce who becomes friends with the prefect. They're like peas in a pod. They're each other's biggest supporters. The day they go to the White Rabbit festival and Deuce introduces his mom to Yuu, she's shocked because this child is practically the spitting image of her ex-husband when he was that young, even down to the same hair color. She doesn't want to get her hopes up but could it be?

[cece693]

Are You Sure It's Just A Childhood Friend?

pairing: hannigram x male reader tags: possessive hannigram, childhood friend, male reader is affectionate, hints of future violence, reader is blind to danger, part two (if it's desired)

This new FBI agent was getting on Hannibal and Will's nerves—a man who had Jack's relentless need to place the Chesapeake ripper behind bars would always be bothersome, but for the man to have some connection, a large one at that, to their beloved was an offense they couldn't overlook.

Childhood friend was the moniker you gave Nathan Carter—inseparable in school, sharing playdates on the weekends—but Hannibal, ever perceptive, noticed just how this pig looked at you. Devotion, hunger, lust. Emotions that drive people to extremes, ones which Hannibal knew all too well.

In the dim light of Hannibal’s office, Will paced, agitation evident in his taut shoulders and the sharp twitch of his jaw. The quiet hush of the room only magnified his irritation.

“He had the audacity to ask him out on a date,” Will growled, finally stopping to look at Hannibal. “You should’ve seen him, his eyes staring at him as if he hung the moon and stars. It was disgusting.”

Hannibal stood behind his desk, hands loosely clasped. He regarded Will with an almost unnerving calm, though a subtle tightening at the corners of his mouth betrayed a hint of displeasure. “And did he agree?” he asked evenly.

“No,” Will replied quickly, “thankfully we already made plans this weekend...but that’s beside the point. The fact that Nathan thought he could just swoop in like that—” His words cut off in a frustrated huff.

Hannibal inclined his head. “He certainly seems ambitious,” he commented drily. “I surmise our beloved does not realize the depth of Nathan’s intentions. He’s too kind, too eager to see the best in others.”

Will scowled. “Worse, he still thinks of Nathan as that same goofy kid from school—the one who’d share his lunch with him just to make him smile. He's oblivious to Nathan's feelings. How easily his infatuation can turn dangerous."

The corners of Hannibal’s mouth curved in the faintest, dangerous smile. “I do recognize obsession when I see it. And our dear friend is quite transparent: thinking a childhood promise can blossom into something more...blatantly ignoring the present reality.”

Will’s expression darkened. “He's trying to rip him away from us. I can’t stand the thought of that creep trailing after him, giving him that look, pressing him to go somewhere alone.”

Hannibal stepped around the desk, approaching Will with deliberate grace. The lamplight caught the angles of his face, lending him an almost predatory air. “Then we shall ensure Nathan respects boundaries,” His hand reached out to settle on Will’s neck, a quiet, grounding gesture.

Will allowed himself to be guided to the leather chair, though his restless energy kept him perched on the edge. “But how? We can't dispose of him like usual. It'll draw attention unto us." Will can't held but close his eyes, Hannibal's touch soothing his nerves and current anger.

“Yes, I suppose you're right," Hannibal mused with a cool glint in his eye, "Perhaps the best course of action is to show Nathan our beloved is unavailable. Maintain our usual routine as to prevent them spending unnecessary time alone. Dinner at my home, quiet weekends at Wolf Trap with you. Or we can always suggest new tasks for Carter—Jack is always eager to shift resources if it means more productivity on the Ripper case.”

Will brows furrowed. “If Nathan gets too close to the Ripper investigation, that might be dangerous for you.”

Hannibal laughed, a rich sound that immediately eased Will’s worries. “Men like Nathan rarely see beyond their own hearts and ambitions. I will handle him if he becomes a threat.”

“Fine,” Will replied, voice still tight. “But no extremes—yet. He wouldn’t forgive us if we did something drastic.”

Hannibal’s long finger played with the hair on Will’s nape, the gentle caress contrasting with the darker undercurrent in his voice. “Of course not,” he answered smoothly. “We shall be prudent.”

Will trusted Hannibal’s judgment, aware the man was planning something—not only to delay his capture by the FBI but also to keep Nathan from stealing their other half. The tension in Will’s jaw refused to dissipate, however, at the way Nathan pushed himself into your life. 

You weren’t at fault—your open-hearted warmth was part of your charm—but Nathan believed it meant more. That every casual hug translated into an invitation. That your bright smiles were solemn vows you’d forsake your lovers and marry him on the spot. It was pathetic. Unrealistic. Insulting.

Because what could Nathan give you that he or Hannibal hadn’t already? Who could love you more, revere you like a divine being stepping down to earth, and then devote themselves, body and soul?

"You're doing it again."

Will looked away from his boyfriend to Beverly, who had her arms crossed over her chest and wore a smirk.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, come on.” Beverly rolled her eyes. “You’ve got that look. Like you’re imagining a hundred ways to chase off competition.”

Will shifted on his feet, an old defensive habit. “It’s not that,” he insisted, though his tone lacked conviction. “He’s just irritating.”

Beverly arched an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. You don’t do well with people who orbit too close to your inner circle, especially when that circle includes your boyfriends.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but Beverly raised a hand. “It’s so obvious, Will. And I can’t exactly blame you. Nathan’s a nice guy—polite, quick to help out—but there’s something off about him.” Her gaze flicked sideways, ensuring no one was listening.

“He’s infatuated. Not in the ‘oh, cute, a little crush’ way. More like obsessed.” She lowered her voice. “Even Jack’s noticed how he hovers around him.”

Will’s lips pressed into a thin line. Jack, too? So it wasn’t just Will’s own jealousy picking up on the danger. “He should back off,” he muttered. “I’ve tried to warn him, but he’s not getting it.”

Beverly shifted her weight, uncrossing her arms. “Have you told him how you feel? That you’re worried?”

He shrugged. “Not directly. Hannibal and I—we’ve both tried talking to him.” Will’s eyes fell on the tiles, suddenly anxious about revealing too much. “We don’t want to push him away by seeming controlling.”

Beverly gave a gentle snort. “Protective, controlling—sometimes there’s a thin line. I get it, though. You’re just worried. He's got a big heart, and Nathan’s using every ounce of that sympathy.”

Will exhaled, raking a hand through his curls. “You’ve seen how affectionate he is—always has been. Nathan’s reading way too much into it.”

“You don’t have to convince me,” Beverly replied. “Look, I thought you should know: Nathan asked me earlier for advice on how he could ‘make a grand gesture’ to prove himself.” She paused, watching the way Will’s eyes darkened. “It sounded…extreme.”

His jaw clenched. “Dammit.”

“Relax, or try to,” Beverly said softly. “If Nathan crosses a line, I’ll have your back. Just…keep an eye on him. The last thing we need is some unhinged agent making trouble.”

Will nodded, gratitude and worry warring on his face. “Thanks, Bev.”

She gave him a warm pat on the shoulder before turning to leave. “Don’t mention it. Just keep your head, Will. No crazy stunts. You know how Jack hates drama in the workplace.”

Will watched her go, mind whirling. He couldn’t banish the mental image of Nathan taking some drastic action to ‘win’ you over. He swallowed hard, pushing off the wall and heading towards his office to notify Hannibal about the recent revelation. They tried to resolve this peacefully, but it only seems that violence will teach Nathan not to encroach on what's his.

[konigsblog]

Any chance of more chubby konig? Great writings btw (⁠｡⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠｡⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠♡

more of chubby-könig?! there will always be more thots™ for that cutie...

chubby-könig, my guilty pleasure :⁠-⁠( 🍰🍪🍓

König has an appetite, that's for sure. Occasionally, you'll find König out of bed in the wee hours of the morning, eyeing up some fresh honey or the strawberry tarts that you had brought home from the bakery. He can't help himself around strawberry flavoured desserts. You'll catch him scoffing one away, only for you to sneak upstairs, giggling at him behaviour and pretending to be asleep so he isn't embarrassed.

Chubby-König is also embarrassingly and ridiculously horny. Since retiring from the military, König had gained a couple of kilogrammes, perhaps even a stone, and his sex drive skyrocketed through the roof now that he's relaxed and at ease, not constantly worried about his physique and how it'll affect him on the field. Some days, he's ashamed and wears baggier t-shirts, pulling at the fabric to avoid the t-shirt outlining his insecurities. You notice this and pull his t-shirt off of him once you're home together, so you can rub his swollen cock over his boxers, perhaps even grind against his stomach.

Tummy grinding is a kink that König wasn't aware he even had. He had never thought about it before, but God, the slick and warm sensation of that pretty, adorable cunt rubbing against his chubby stomach was heavenly and distracting from his insecurities and anxieties. Beneath your soft gaze, König felt confident and comfortable, his hands lazily guiding you while you rock your hips back and forth.

Chubby-König isn't picky about body shapes. After all, he chose you for you, nothing else. König with a chubby reader would include König being a total pervert, unable to keep his filthy, grimey hands to himself. He's just as bad as you are for him. He'll grope your tits and will rub your stomach while cuddling together, thigh fucking you while drunk and high on weed. He gets the munchies while high, that's certain.

Chubby-König with a skinny reader would include König obsessing over how small you are in comparison to him. He constantly touches your waist, wrists and arms, in disbelief at your ability to take his cock so well despite being tiny. From time to time, he'll scrape more food onto your plate while shaming you for your smaller portions. He always cooks big portions for you, just so that you'll eat more. It's his love language, what can he say, Schatz?

[nuhuhwinniethepooh]

Thinking about (Series)

God Gojo who couldn't care less about the mortals and Goddess Reader who couldn't care more about the mortals.

God Gojo who considers you a friend, maybe more he's not sure and he doesn't want to be sure. If his feelings for you was love then it'd be a taboo, you only see him as a friend- he's not in love, that was just a hypothetical situation. The uncomfortable, bubbling in his stomach when he sees you cheerfully talk with other Gods wasn't his problem neither was the tiny clench in his heart at the sight of your smile.

God Gojo who's actually worried about the mortal realm this time because the situation was going from bad to worse, the drought on the mortal realm was killing everyone and everything. A disruption in the balance of life. Though omnipotent Gods they were, they needed worshippers.

Worshippers that were rapidly decreasing.

So he watches in horror as you volunteer to be the sole individual to go down and save the remaining mortals, your kind heart no longer able to ignore their prayers and cries.

"Your golden blood is hardly fit to step on that defiled land." He urges you to change your mind but all you do is shake your head with a smile.

It was your duty you say, your responsibility as the Goddess of Life and that he should know better as the God of Heaven and Earth to stop you.

God Gojo who gives in reluctantly, unable to refuse your plea to do your job, it was only right.

So he grasps your hands in his as he makes you promise him to come back. Back to him once everything was done and over. All he remembers is the adoring smile on your face, the squeeze of his hand and the two words whispered back to him before he watches you descend. Your back towards him and the scent of life fluttering in the air, the cheers of the crowd all but silent when your presence finally disappears from the ethereal abode.

God Gojo who can't help but smile to himself when he sees the dying earth blooming with life again after a few decades. Living up to your name as you single-handedly bring forth the very thing you were sent for, speckles of pride blossoming in his chest when he hears praises of your name resounding from every corner of the the once dreary place.

New temples erecting in your name, the population growing ever large and kingdoms rising to it's fame again. All he can do is excitedly wait for your return and perhaps start preparing a small welcome back party? Nothing grand, of course. He'll just invite half of the heavens and maybe some more. It'll be very small. A very, very small gathering.

God Gojo who can't seem to sit still, tossing and turning in his seat uncomfortably in the middle of his work as his heart clenches painfully- too painfully. His skin crawls with invisible bugs and dread as his assistant, a lower God in-training, hurriedly rushes in.

The mortal abode was no longer occupied, he says breathlessly. Worry etched in his face at the sight of the stone-faced God in front of him.

"The mortal abode is available to be entered again, the Goddess of Life's presence is no longer"

God Gojo who doesn't wait for a moment longer, pushing past everyone as he rushes towards the gate separating the mortal and ethereal abode. Their screams to stop all but a buzz as he crosses the gate, quickly falling down to Earth with his heart in his throat as his feet touches the soft grass beneath him.

He needs to find you. You're either dead or in the demonic realm, dead or kidnapped. He wishes for the latter- exactly who does a God pray to? He doesn't know but he prays, he hopes, he wishes that you're anything but dead because he'll come to save you then, even if it means war.

God Gojo who wanders the mortal abode in a human form for a year, searching the ever changing gate of the demonic realm only to hear of a King who struck gold. Enough gold to last him till generations forgotten, they whisper, which was impossible.

He knows every gold vein, had personally counted the amount of gold deposits in the mortal abode, that shouldn't be possible unless-

♡

God Gojo who can't believe his eyes, his six eyes not doing justice to the sight in front of him as he stumbles forward to your ancient temple's courtroom in the far end of the world. His body weighing heavy at the sight of your lifeless body hanging upside down, hands tied behind your back and feet binded by coarse ropes to the ceiling, hanged like butchered meat for sale- drops of your sacred golden blood splattered below you and on rusty buckets besides you.

All life drained from your body. All blood drained from your body. Your beautiful blood of gold, the rosiness of your cheeks, the large slit in your neck- all he can do is shakily claw at the rope with blurry eyes, desperate mutters of no's pouring out of his lips as he hugs your cold body and presses his face against your stomach.

Gently undoing the ropes and bringing you down, he traces the indented marks in your hand as he brings it up to his lip. Kissing it and quietly curling into a ball with you on the cracked marbled floor- he doesn't know for how long, he doesn't care. All he can do is mutter gentle incoherent words and caress your bluing cheeks.

All humans have two choices when they die, the demonic realm or the ethereal abode but what about a God? Where does a dead God go?

God Gojo who finally brings your body back to the ethereal abode, placing your body in a glass case between the Calla lilies and chrysanthemums in his castle's garden - away from eager eyes to see an actual dead God. He personally sees to the appointing of the new Goddess of Life who suspiciously resembles you- no one dares to point it out, his mood is bad enough as it is.

God Gojo who declares war against the mortal and demonic realm, dead set to personally see to the extinction of your murderers and instigators entire bloodline.

Blood for blood, no drop will be spared.

__________________________________________________

Tryna get my groove back 😔

Masterlist ♡ Serieslist