#p.s: you are not following me at the moment btw ^^;
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Hello z! Just wanted to say your writing is so yummy and keeps me and the rest of your followers so full😋 BTW! More puppy girl hybrid?? (P.s this is my first request 🙂↕️❤️)
PT 2 OF MY MOST RECENT PUPPYGIRL!HYBRID FIC FOR THOSE WHO ASKED!!
PT1 HERE
Notes: IM SO HAPPY IM UR FIRST REQUESTEE! I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS!! And I’m super glad you enjoy my writing it really means a lot<33
Warnings: Hybrid!Gojo + fem!reader + PuppyHybrid!Reader + smut + small Drabble + not proofread + brat!reader + little bit of sub!Satoru + nipple!teasing + slight crying + overstimulation + mean!Suguru + exhibition
People who asked to be tagged: @qmsvpx @sugurubabe @shokosbunny @rinsluhvr @fuyuji-ii @mashtura @wisteriaflowersss @kickenkricken @rinsluhvr @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni I hope you guys enjoy!
WolfHybrid!Gojo who really can’t take all the teasing you’ve been putting him through. After the first incident Suguru made it 100 percent clear to you specifically that you are to not touch Satoru like that again, who knows what will happen if he’s not around. He’s not scared Satoru will hurt you but he should be eased into the world of pleasure not immediately made to cum on himself his first day in what is now his home.
Suguru scolds you bad, telling you how disappointed he is, how you know better! He knows how needy hybrids get especially your species but the toys he supplies for you should be more than enough. All you did in retaliation was make it a goal to ruin Satoru… poor thing why is he the victim in all of this? And yet he doesn’t even know.
You ignore Suguru’s rule when it’s just you and Satoru in the house.
You make an effort to rub yourself all over his body while wearing the thinnest layer of clothing, when he’s laying on the couch facing the ceiling you’ll come lifting his shirt up and licking all over his chest, even sucking on his nipples as extra stimulation. You love his reactions, everything makes him fully hard and his loud moans fill the empty living room. He can’t process what to do with this pleasure besides grabbing and fondling his cock until he’s finishing in his pants again.
It doesn’t take long for him to be hard all over again, and for you to repeat the process. If he asks if you can help him feel like that again you’ll force him to rub your ears for a good five minutes.
WolfHybrid!Gojo who gets to feel what it’s like being balls deep in your cunt, when you sink your nice ass to meet his pelvis, the poor wolf is fucking gone, he’s never felt something so tight around his cock, he’s never felt anything around his cock! Your plush walls squeeze him so good that he’s having a hard time forming sentences let alone words, all that’s slipping from his pretty slippery pink lips are moans, moans that emphasize how his balls are tightening and he’s cumming deep inside you.
You’re quick to start bouncing so cutely on him, your floppy ears bouncing along with you. Your toys don’t compare to Satoru’s thick cock, how has a woman never felt something like this? You can feel the twitching of his veins as he gets it up once again. You peek at his face to find the wolfman ruined, drool seeps from the corners of his lips and tears are decorating his lash lines.
When you finally cum, it’s a damn mess, the mixture of you two sit where you meet and seep out. The pleasure in the moment doesn’t have you thinking of what Suguru will do to you, doesn’t matter what he will do to the both of you, all you can think of is grinding down on Satoru’s cock for another orgasm.
Bonus!
Suguru is fucking furious, he was mad the first time but he let it slide since it simple curiosity on both sides. The simple curiosity has gone too far, you don’t fucking listen. Since the moment he had welcomed you into his home a few years back he’s had a hard time getting you to listen to directions.
He doesn’t hear you out when he drags you and Satoru to the bedroom, in fact he tells the both of you to keep going. You find yourselves shy under his eye and insist that you’ve both learned your lesson from his lecture earlier. He wasn’t really lecturing Satoru since he doesn’t know the rules as well as you do but this is a great learning moment.
He ignores you, ignores how you’re using the sweet eyes with him, he’s dead serious.
You’re quick to obey and incite a small kiss with Satoru, that turns into a full on make-out with Suguru watching intently.
The rest of the night is filled with moans and groans of complaints, Suguru had told Satoru to let any lewd feelings he had all on you, Satoru does not hold back at all, he fucks his thick cock into your sensitive walls over and over, the mess from earlier helps as to not hurt you so it’s so easy for him to slide back and forth. Satoru found himself ecstatic at the start but when he finds his cock overstimulated and his balls hurting from the painful pleasure he’s not feeling the same, but he for some reason won’t stop his hips from moving, he loves the feeling of having you cum around him nonstop, he loves Suguru watching him so intently, everything mixed together.
Your clit is so slippery that it’s hard to pinpoint where you should be rubbing, everytime you stop Suguru is quick to snap at you to keep going, this is what you wanted correct? He makes sure to ask that out loud, you’re so fucking adorable with the way you nod in his direction, he knows you have a few more in you.
#zsworks#fem reader#gojo x reader#jjk x reader#gojo smut#gojo x female reader#hybrid reader#hybrid gojo x reader#hybrid gojo#satoru gojō x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x you#wolfhybrid!gojo#wolf gojo
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may the best brother win pt 3 ⎜hughes brothers
pairings: quinn hughes x afab!reader ⎜luke hughes x afab!reader ⎜ jack hughes x afab!reader ⎜ genre: romance ⎜bachelorette-esque situations ⎜angst? ⎜friends - to - lovers warnings: tension...lots and lots of tension ⎜make out ⎜ mild grinding ⎜ slut shaming ⎜ jack's a dick ⎜ quinn being protective ⎜ luke being a cutie patootie as per usual ⎜ not a lot tbh ⎜shoving ⎜ synopsis: you have been friends with the hughes brothers for years - but why does this summer feel so different? word count: 6.6k authors note: this is the much anticipated Quinn chapter - there will be one more part after this one that will tie everything together, there hasn't ended up being much actual smut in this series cause it's just not fitting as I'm writing so apologies - btw who do people think the reader should be ending up with? (p.s. i will be posting chapter aesthetic pics at the bottom so you can get an idea of what I was picturing :) )
(unedited)
“He’ll come around eventually.” Luke sighs as he watches your gaze follow his older brother around the backyard.
“You’ve been saying that for days, Lukey—” You let out a long sigh, pushing your sunglasses onto the top of your head as you adjust your position in the sun-chair, “We all know that if there is one thing Jack is good at, it’s icing someone out.” Luke just nods his head along - having also been on the receiving end of Jack’s frosty attitude.
“Look Jack and I are going back to jersey from some promo stuff, give me that time to try and settle things with him.” Luke suggests, shooting his older brother a glare as he notices him looking over at the two of you sitting side by side at the pool. “Just enjoy your time with Quinn and try to relax a little.” He adds and you nod along, pulling your sunglasses back down to your nose, lying back on the sun-chair.
“You know what, maybe I will.”
+
+
Luke gathers you in his arms for a quick hug, his duffle bag slung over his shoulder as he and Jack get ready to leave for their trip back to jersey. “It’s only two days.” Luke whispers and you nod, squeezing him back just as hard — Luke and you have become almost inseparable since your date with him to the fair, something lingering between you since you had kissed that night - but things in the lake house had become increasingly tense since Jack had stormed away from you that same night - refusing to hear your side of the situation.
“Okay, you can let go, Luke.” Quinn chuckles as he steps forwards, tugging you from his younger brothers arms, Luke looking at him with a pout before huffing and making his way out of the house. Jack still stand by the door looking between you and his little brother with a roll of his eyes.
“Have a safe flight.” You peep, Jack eyes shooting to you as he gives you a stern nod before following after Luke, shutting the door closed behind him, leaving just you and Quinn in the big house.
“Guess it’s just you and I now.” Quinn teases, his mouth right besides your ear, his hands tight on your hips. You shiver at the feeling of Quinn’s warm breath against your ear, his teasing tone making your stomach flip. His hands linger on your hips, sending a tingle up your spine as you glance up at him.
“Guess so,” you murmur, trying to keep your voice steady, though the tension between you is undeniable. Quinn’s eyes search yours, his lips twitching into a small smirk that makes your heart race.
“You gonna miss them?” he asks, his voice softer now, though the playful glint in his eyes remains.
You nod, swallowing hard. “Of course. But… it’ll be nice to be able to breathe for a little bit.” Quinn chuckles, his grip loosening as he steps back, though the warmth of his touch still lingers.
“You’ve earned it,” Quinn says, breaking the moment as he steps back, his hands finally leaving your hips. His touch lingers in your mind, though, as he walks toward the kitchen, casually tossing over his shoulder, “Come on. Let’s make the most of this—I'll cook dinner tonight. Unless, of course, you’re still holding a grudge about the whole grill incident?”
You smirk, trailing after him into the kitchen. “Grudge? Quinn, you almost set the deck on fire.”
“Details,” he quips, opening the fridge and pulling out a few ingredients. “I’d call it a learning experience. Besides, I’ve been perfecting my skills since then. Tonight, you’ll see. Gourmet chef Quinn Hughes in action.”
“Should I alert the fire department ahead of time?” you tease, leaning against the counter. His lips twitch into that familiar smirk, and the way his eyes flick over you as he sets the ingredients down makes your stomach flutter.
“I think you’ll survive,” he shoots back, handing you a knife and a cutting board. “Now, sous-chef, make yourself useful and chop these.”
You take the knife, raising an eyebrow. “Bold of you to trust me with this. I could sabotage your big redemption arc.” Quinn steps closer, his presence making the small kitchen feel even smaller.
“I’m willing to take that risk.” His voice is lower, a little softer, and for a moment, his eyes meet yours, holding your gaze longer than necessary. Your breath catches, but before you can respond, he steps back with a teasing grin. “Just don’t lose a finger. I’m not great with first aid.”
You shake your head, trying to ignore the heat creeping up your neck as you focus on slicing the vegetables. Quinn moves around the kitchen with ease, his arm occasionally brushing against yours as he reaches for spices or utensils. Each touch feels intentional, sending a spark through you that you can’t quite ignore.
“So,” he says, leaning casually against the counter as you work. “What’s the plan while Luke and Jack are gone? Binge some trash TV? Go for a swim? Or are you just gonna sit here and miss my brothers?”
You glance up, smirking. “And what makes you think I won’t be enjoying you instead?” The words are out before you can stop them, and Quinn’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. For a moment, you worry you’ve overstepped, but then his lips curve into a slow, mischievous smile.
“Careful,” he says, his voice dropping just slightly. “Say things like that, and I might start thinking you actually like having me around.” Your cheeks flush, and you quickly look back down at the cutting board.
“Don’t let it go to your head, Hughes.”
“Oh, too late for that,” he says, laughing softly. But there’s something in the way he looks at you now—something darker, more intent—that makes your pulse quicken. As the two of you work together to prepare the meal, the atmosphere shifts. The teasing banter is still there, but it’s layered with something heavier, the air between you charged with an unspoken tension. Every glance, every accidental touch seems to linger, leaving you hyperaware of his presence.
By the time you’re sitting at the table, plates of food in front of you and glasses of wine in hand, the tension feels almost unbearable. Quinn raises his glass, his eyes meeting yours across the table. “To a quiet house and good company,” he says, his voice warm but his gaze steady, almost challenging.
You clink your glass against his, your heart pounding as you murmur, “To good company.” The conversation flows easily as you eat, but there’s an undeniable pull between you. Quinn’s leg brushes against yours under the table, and neither of you moves away. His fingers linger on yours for a moment too long when he hands you the wine bottle to pour another glass. Every laugh, every shared look seems to bring you closer, the space between you shrinking bit by bit.
After dinner, you find yourself leaning against the counter again as Quinn washes the dishes. His sleeves are rolled up, exposing his forearms, and you catch yourself staring before quickly looking away. He glances over his shoulder, catching you in the act, and his lips twitch into that infuriatingly knowing smirk.
“Something on your mind?” he asks, his tone casual, but there’s a flicker of something more in his eyes.
“Just surprised you didn’t break any plates,” you quip, trying to keep your voice steady. He turns off the faucet, drying his hands before stepping closer, his proximity sending a jolt through you.
“You’re always so quick to underestimate me,” he murmurs, his voice lower now, his eyes locked on yours.
“I’m just realistic,” you counter, your breath hitching as he leans in, one hand bracing against the counter beside you.
“Is that so?” he asks, his voice a near whisper now, his face inches from yours. You can feel the warmth radiating off him, the intensity of his gaze holding you captive. For a moment, the world seems to pause, the air between you crackling with anticipation. But then, just as quickly, Quinn steps back, a playful grin on his face as he grabs a towel to finish drying the dishes.
“Guess I’ll just have to prove you wrong,” he says lightly, as if nothing had happened. You let out a shaky breath, your heart racing as you watch him. Something tells you this won’t be the last time Quinn Hughes leaves you breathless.
Later that evening, you find yourself sprawled on the couch, a movie playing on the TV as Quinn settles in beside you. The warmth of his body next to yours is both comforting and maddening, every slight movement sending your nerves into overdrive.
“You okay there?” Quinn asks, glancing over at you with a smirk as he notices your fidgeting.
“Fine,” you reply, your voice a little too quick. You shift slightly, putting a bit more distance between the two of you, though the effort feels futile. The space doesn’t help when his arm stretches out across the back of the couch, his fingers brushing lightly against your shoulder.
“You’re a terrible liar,” he says softly, leaning closer, his voice barely audible over the movie.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you shoot back, refusing to meet his gaze. You can feel his eyes on you, though, studying you with that same quiet intensity that makes your stomach flip.
“You’ve been jumpy all night,” Quinn continues, his tone teasing but laced with curiosity. “Is it me? Do I make you nervous?” You let out a laugh that comes out shakier than you intended, finally turning to look at him.
“Quinn, you’re not nearly as intimidating as you think you are.”
“Oh, really?” he replies, raising an eyebrow. His hand drops from the back of the couch, his fingers brushing against your arm, and your breath catches. “You sure about that?”
“Positive,” you say, though the quiver in your voice betrays you. Quinn’s smirk deepens, and he leans in just slightly, his face so close now that you can see the flecks of blue in his green eyes.
“I think you’re lying again,” he murmurs, his voice soft but firm. His hand lingers on your arm, his thumb tracing small, deliberate circles against your skin.
“Quinn—” His name comes out as barely a whisper, your heart pounding so loudly you’re certain he can hear it. “Why are you doing this?” The words come out of your mouth before you can even think about them, Quinn jolting away from you, a look of panic and confusion clouding his eyes, his mouth opening and closing as he thinks of what to say.
“This whole stupid bet, why did we let this happen?” You clarify, barely noticing the way Quinn relaxes a little the concerned expression falling from his face.
Quinn exhales slowly, his shoulders easing as he looks at you, his hand still lightly resting on your arm. His gaze softens, his usual teasing demeanour melting away. “Because I think we all wanted it to,” he admits, his voice low and uncharacteristically sincere.
Your breath catches at his words, the weight of them sinking in as the charged air between you becomes almost unbearable. “But what about Jack? Luke?” you ask, your voice trembling as you search his eyes for some kind of reassurance.
Quinn leans back slightly, running a hand through his hair. “Jack’s... complicated,” he says with a small, wry smile. “He’s protective and he has a lot of things going on in that tiny brain of his, but he’ll come around. And Luke—he just wants you to be happy, that’s all he’s ever wanted.” His eyes meet yours again, and for a moment, it feels like the world has shrunk down to just the two of you.
“And you?” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “What do you want?” Quinn’s lips twitch into a faint smile, but his gaze is intense, serious. “I want what’s best for you,” he says softly, his hand moving from your arm to gently cup your cheek. The touch is so tender it sends a shiver through you, and you instinctively lean into it.
“Quinn...” you start, but the words get caught in your throat as he leans closer, his forehead brushing lightly against yours.
“This bet has clearly gone further then any of us intended and I think we all have a lot to think about but it’s supposed to be fun.” Quinn says, his older brother tone kicking in, his words almost seeming like a reprimand as he adds, “You’re supposed to be having fun but it doesn’t seem like that happening anymore.”
“I am having fun.” You say quickly, “well kinda having fun.” The tension continues to sizzle around the room, Quinn’s hand still warm on your arm, his thumb still tracing soft circles.
“I’m sure we can make things more fun.” He says teasingly, his eyebrows lifting in surprise as you scoot forwards on the couch, your eyes meeting his before dipping down to his lips.
“I’m sure we could.” You agree, your mind screaming at you to stop and walk away - this is what got you into trouble in the first place. “I’ve already kissed two of you, why not get a hat trick.” You whisper, Quinn letting out a breath of laughter as he leans a little closer.
“Tell me to stop,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin. “If this isn’t what you want, just say the word, and I’ll back off.” His voice is steady, but you can see the flicker of vulnerability in his eyes, the hesitance he’s trying to hide.
But stopping is the last thing you want.
Instead of answering, you close the small gap between you, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that’s soft and tentative at first, as if testing the waters. Quinn responds immediately, his hand sliding to the back of your neck as he deepens the kiss, pulling you closer. The world around you fades away, and all you can focus on is the way his lips move against yours, the way his hand anchors you to him like he’s afraid to let go. When you finally pull back, both of you breathless, Quinn rests his forehead against yours, a small, almost shy smile tugging at his lips.
“Luke is still the best kisser.” You tease, Quinn’s smile dropping as he shoves you off the couch, a big pout on his face as you let out a bark of laughter, wishing you could take a photo of the oldest Hughes.
“Well that was barely a real kiss, just you wait.” Quinn says, his words holding a promise that sends a tingle down your spine.
+
+
The next morning, you wake to the sound of Quinn knocking softly on your door. His voice is muffled through the wood, but you can hear the teasing edge in his tone. “If you’re not up in ten minutes, I’m leaving without you.” You groan, dragging yourself out of bed and cracking the door open.
“What are you talking about?”
Quinn leans against the frame, an infuriating smirk on his face. “We’re going to the beach. Pack a bag—towels, sunscreen, whatever you need. I’ve got the rest.”
“You planned this without asking me?” you tease, though the thought of a beach day makes your heart lift.
“Spontaneity is good for you. Come on, move it!” he urges, tapping the doorframe before heading back down the hall. It doesn’t take you long to pack, and before you know it, the two of you are in his car, the lake house disappearing behind you as Quinn navigates the winding roads toward the coast. The windows are rolled down, and the salty breeze filters through as the scenery shifts from lush greenery to sandy dunes.
“You’ve been awfully quiet,” he remarks, glancing at you as he changes lanes. “Second thoughts about spending the day with me?” You smirk, turning toward him.
“Just mentally preparing for the endless teasing I’m sure to endure.”
“Oh, you know me too well,” he says, his grin widening. “But you’ll survive.” The drive takes about an hour, the two of you falling into easy conversation as the miles pass. Quinn insists on singing along—badly—to a playlist he made, and you can’t help but join in, laughing so hard at his exaggerated falsetto that you have to wipe tears from your eyes. When you finally arrive, the beach sprawls out before you, the sun glinting off the waves and the sand warm underfoot. The sight is breathtaking, and you feel a sense of peace settle over you.
“Not bad, Hughes,” you admit as you step out of the car, taking in the view.
“Told you it’d be worth it,” he says, grabbing a cooler from the trunk. “Now, help me carry this stuff before you get too impressed.”
The two of you find a spot near the water, setting up a colourful umbrella and spreading out towels. As you kick off your shoes and dig your toes into the sand, Quinn sets to work unpacking the cooler.
“You ready to relax?” he asks, pulling out a couple of drinks and handing one to you.
“Ready to win at whatever dumb competition you’re planning,” you counter, taking the bottle from him.
He raises an eyebrow. “Oh, you think you can beat me?”
“Absolutely,” you say, tossing your sunglasses onto your towel and sprinting toward the water. “Race you!” Quinn lets out a laugh and takes off after you, his long strides quickly closing the gap. Just as you’re about to dive into the surf, he catches you, hoisting you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing. You squeal, pounding lightly on his back.
“Put me down, you oaf!”
“Not until you admit defeat,” he teases, spinning you around as he wades into the waves.
“Never!” you cry, laughing as the cool water splashes against your legs. Quinn wraps his arm tighter around your legs as he wades deeper in the water taking in one deep breath before letting the two of you fall backwards the water engulfing you both. Quinn surfaces first, flinging his wet hair off his forehead, his hands reaching for you in the water, helping you steady yourself against the moving sea.
“You suck” you say, your voice lighter than you feel. Your hands clearing the water from your face as Quinn reaches forwards, gently pushing your wet strands away from your face, trying to tuck them neatly behind your ears.
“Maybe,” he replies, stepping closer. “But you like me anyway.” You roll your eyes, pushing him away lightly, though the moment lingers, the air charged with something unspoken.
The rest of the day passes in a blur of laughter and sunshine. You challenge each other to frisbee and volleyball, Quinn smugly claiming victory each time, though his moves are anything but fair. When you finally collapse onto your towels, exhausted and content, the sky is streaked with hues of pink and orange.
“Worth the drive?” he asks, handing you another drink as the two of you watch the waves lap against the shore.
“Definitely,” you admit, leaning back on your elbows. “Even if you cheated at literally everything.”
“Cheated? I think you mean ‘strategically outplayed,’” he counters, smirking as he leans closer, his shoulder brushing against yours.
You glance at him, the teasing words on the tip of your tongue fading as you meet his gaze. The playful banter dissolves, replaced by a quiet intensity that makes your pulse quicken.
“Quinn…” you start, but he shakes his head, his voice soft as he interrupts.
“Let me guess—you’re going to tell me Luke’s still the best at something?” His lips twitch into a smile, but his eyes search yours.
“No,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. “I was going to say… thanks. For this.”
His expression softens, and he reaches out, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Anytime,” he murmurs, his hand lingering by your cheek. “We should head back, it’s getting dark.” He says as he clears his throat, making quick work of packing up your stuff, insisting he can carry everything as you trail behind him, the situation almost identical to your date with Jack.
As you follow Quinn back to the car, a mix of emotions swirls inside you. The day had been perfect—a much-needed escape from the tension back at the lake house. But now, with the sun setting and the beach fading into the distance, you can’t help but feel the weight of the situation creeping back in.
Quinn loads the car in silence, his movements efficient but unhurried. When he finally settles into the driver’s seat and starts the engine, he glances at you, his expression unreadable. “You okay?” he asks, his tone gentle.
You nod, though your chest feels tight. “Yeah. Just… thinking.” He doesn’t push, but you can feel his curiosity. The drive back is quieter, the earlier laughter replaced by a comfortable, contemplative silence. The hum of the engine and the rhythmic passing of streetlights become a soothing backdrop as you lean your head against the window, the cool glass grounding you.
When you finally reach the lake house, the porch light is on, casting a warm glow over the front steps. Quinn parks the car and gets out, coming around to open your door before you can move. “Chivalry isn’t dead, huh?” you tease, though your voice is softer than usual.
“Not on my watch,” he replies, offering you a hand. You take it, the contact brief but electric.
Inside, the house is quiet, the absence of Luke and Jack palpable. Quinn sets the cooler down in the kitchen and stretches, his shirt riding up slightly to reveal a sliver of toned skin. You look away quickly, your cheeks heating.
“You hungry?” he asks, breaking the silence.
You shake your head. “Not really. Just tired.”
Quinn nods, leaning against the counter. “It’s been a long day.” He hesitates, his gaze flicking to you before he continues. “You know… if you ever need to talk about—well, anything—I’m here.��
The sincerity in his voice catches you off guard, and you offer a small smile. “Thanks, Quinn. That means a lot.” You wipe your hands on your shorts your bikini still wet underneath your clothes. “I might go shower, maybe we can watch another movie?” You ask softly, Quinn nodding quickly as he insists on making your a sandwich cause what kind of date would he be if he didn’t feed you.
As you climb the stairs to your room, you can feel his eyes on you, a warmth in his gaze that lingers long after you’ve closed the door behind you. Slipping out of your swimmers and under the scalding water, you replay the day in your mind—the teasing, the laughter, the quiet moments that spoke louder than words. Quinn Hughes was proving to be more than just the easygoing, confident guy you thought you knew.
And that realisation is as thrilling as it is terrifying. All three of them had proven to be so different from what you always thought you knew. You’d known them since you were kids and yet they each had shown you a completely different side of them over the past few weeks.
As you slip into your pyjamas and brush your drying hair, you let out a long huff, you straighten out your sleep shorts, and tug on your extremely oversized New Jersey Devils training shirt you had stolen earlier in the summer from Jack, before creeping back downstairs, the wafting smells of a grilled cheese floating from the kitchen. You pause by the entryway as you watch Quinn move around the kitchen, his shoulders dropped forwards as he mumbles to himself under his breath clearly frustrated with something.
“Quinn?” You question softly as you take a small step further into the kitchen, his head flicking towards you, his eyes immediately dropping to the t-shirt your wearing and your exposed legs before flicking back up to your face with a frown.
You step closer, your heart pounding as Quinn runs a hand through his hair, his body tense in a way that you've never seen before. The faint sound of the grill sizzling in the background seems to fade into the quiet air around you, as though the whole world has slowed to a crawl. You catch his gaze, and there’s something raw in it—something that makes your breath catch.
“Are you okay?” you ask, your voice quieter than usual, as if any louder tone might break the fragile moment that feels suspended between you two. “You don’t look fine.” Quinn glances at you, eyes dark with something unreadable, before dropping his gaze to the floor, shifting uncomfortably. He doesn’t immediately answer, and you step even closer, this time reaching out to touch his arm. It’s almost electric, the heat from his skin seeping into your fingertips.
“I’m just... not sure about some things,” he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck as if the weight of the words is too much for him to bear. “Things with you... this summer... us.” You swallow, trying to steady the rapid beat of your heart. This isn’t just a conversation about friendship anymore, and you both know it. You lean in slightly, close enough that you can feel the warmth of his body but not quite close enough to make the leap into whatever’s building between you.
“What do you mean?” you ask softly, the words barely above a whisper. Your hand slides from his arm to the side of his body, where it lingers, testing the waters. Quinn’s breath hitches. He seems to hesitate, eyes flicking from your face to the floor, then back again, like he’s fighting an internal battle.
“I’ve always cared about you,” he says finally, his voice a low rasp that sends shivers down your spine. “But lately, it’s different. I don’t know... I don’t know what it is, but every time you’re near me, I—” He cuts himself off, his jaw tightening as if he’s trying to hold back. But it’s too late. The tension between you two is palpable, thick like the heat of the kitchen. You can feel it humming in the space between you, making everything else feel irrelevant. “And Luke and Jack—” He pauses again.
“You don’t have to explain,” you murmur, moving even closer, your body now mere inches from his. Your voice is soft, but your words are firm, giving him the space to breathe without the pressure of clarifying himself. “I feel it too. But it’s hard, isn’t it? This... whatever this is.” He looks at you then, his gaze searching, raw with something deeper than just desire.
“Yeah. It is,” he admits, his voice rough, husky. His hand twitches as though it wants to reach for you but holds back, like he's unsure whether he has permission to cross that line. “They’re my brothers, I’m supposed to take care of them, put them first but this time—”
You take another step forward, your chest brushing against his ever so slightly, feeling the heat radiating off him, the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingertips. Your breath catches, and the air around you both seems charged, heavy with unspoken words, unacknowledged feelings.
“Quinn...” you breathe, your voice barely a whisper, but the weight of his name on your lips feels like an invitation.
“This time I don’t want to put them first.” He resolves. His eyes darken in response, a flicker of something dangerous and thrilling flashing across his face before his hand finally, finally, reaches up to cradle your cheek. His touch is soft but firm, the warmth of his palm grounding you as his thumb gently strokes over your skin. The tension between you two is almost unbearable now. Every inch of your body screams for the contact you’ve both been avoiding all day.
He leans in slowly, his breath mingling with yours, and the world seems to disappear in that instant. Your heart hammers in your chest as you lift your hand, brushing lightly across his chest, feeling the hard line of his muscles beneath his shirt. His lips are just a breath away, and for a moment, neither of you moves. It’s as if the air itself is holding its breath, waiting for one of you to give in.
“Are you sure about this?” Quinn’s voice is thick with want, but there’s still hesitation in it, like he’s asking for your permission, even though his whole body is screaming the opposite.
You swallow hard, your fingers curling into his shirt as your other hand slides up to rest on his neck, pulling him closer. “I’m sure,” you whisper, the words barely audible but full of certainty.
And then, it happens.
His lips find into yours with a fierce urgency, his hands immediately cupping your face as if to make sure you’re real, that this isn’t just some fantasy. The kiss is hungry, full of pent-up desire, a perfect storm of longing and need. You kiss him back with equal intensity, the heat between you growing exponentially as your lips move together, desperate and demanding.
His tongue brushes against your bottom lip, and without a second thought, you open to him, letting him deepen the kiss. He groans softly against your mouth, a sound that sends a shiver down your spine. You can feel the tension in his body, the restraint slipping away as he presses you against him, your chest now flush with his.
This kiss, the one that Quinn has promised you yesterday when you teased him… was so worth the wait.
Your hands roam, pulling him closer, feeling the taut muscles beneath his shirt, tracing the lines of his shoulders as you move your lips from his mouth to his jaw, to the sensitive spot just below his ear. He hisses in response, one hand moving down your back to fist in your shirt pulling you even tighter against him, as he gives you a boost to sit on top of the counter, his lips finding yours again as he pulls your pelvis against his, his hands firm on your hips as he pushes the two of your together tightly.
“This is crossing a line.” Quinn hisses as he detaches his mouth from yours, resting his forehead against your own as he lets out shuddered breaths. His hands slipping under your shirt as he glances down at it, a soft growl leaving his throat. “This stupid fucking shirt, you should be wearing mine not his.” Your mouth drops open in surprise at the possessive tone in Quinns words, the older brother usually much more in control.
Quinn takes the opportunity to attach his lips to your neck, your head falling back to give him better access as you let out a soft breath, your hands tangling in his soft curls, his hips rolling against yours as he sucks harshly on your skin. “You’re so fucking beautiful, but you’d look so much better if there was no doubt about who you belong with.” Quinn whispers against your skin, moving his lips lower before beginning to suck again.
Your hips roll against his as he sucks a particularly sweet spot, his thumbs rubbing soft circles on the skin of your abdomen - the two of you jolting at the sound a suitcase hitting the floor. Quinn pulls away from you, the two of you shooting a glance over at the stunned hockey player standing in the entrance to the kitchen, a frown growing on his face as he takes the two of you in.
“Honey, we’re home— oh shit.” Luke’s voice carries through the silence, being the second body to make an appearance, his eyebrows raising in surprise as he takes in the sight, his smile turning in a smirk as he cocks his head to the side. “I know I said have fun but this seems like a little more then I was anticipating.” Luke lets out a soft laugh, clapping a hand on Jack’s shoulder who just shakes it off, his glare moving from his older brother to you.
“Fun?” Jack lets out a humourless laugh, his eyes dark as they lock with yours. “If you call whoring yourself out fun then she’s great at that.” You can’t help the way your body flinches at his words, Quinn letting out a scoff as he helps you slide off the counter, fixing your shirt before tucking you behind him, facing Jack with a frown.
“You wouldn’t be acting like this if she was doing it with you.” Quinn spits back, his arms crossing against his chest as he blocks Jacks sight of you, your hands gently gripping the hem of his shirt.
“She’s not better than a puck bunny at this point - look at her, she’s got fucking hickeys and she’s using this stupid bet to the best of her advantage.” Jack spits back, Luke elbowing his older brother in the side, telling him to ‘shut up’ as subtly as he can manage.
He’s not wrong.
Not entirely anyway.
“No look at them Luke, are you really okay with the fact that the girl you’ve been head of heels for is dry humping our brother.” Jack continues, your grip getting tighter against Quinn’s shirt as Jack’s words sink in. “This bet has become a way for her to act no better then a common slut.” Jack’s words are the final nail in the coffin as you let out a small whimper, your hands knotted in Quinn’s shirt the only thing stopping him from taking a step towards his younger brother.
“What the fuck man.” Luke says first, stepping away from Jack as he looks down at him in disgust. “Why would you say something like that, she’s our friend.” Luke continues, shaking his head in disbelief as he makes his way over to you, his eyes meeting Quinn’s for a fraction of a second as he scoops you up in his arms at the same time as Quinn rips his shirt from your grip, stalking towards his brother.
“Don’t listen to him, he’s being an idiot.” Luke whispers against your hair as Quinn’s words cut through the room.
“You’re just mad that this whole bet was your idea to try and get close with her and it hasn’t gone how you planned it to.” Quinn starts, Jack standing his ground as his older brother shoves harshly at his chest, “News flash Jack, not everything revolves around you, not everyone falls at your feet just because you want them to.” Quinn takes in a long breath, “She is a grown adult and can do whatever the fuck she wants and whoever the fuck she wants, so don’t get mad at her just because you can’t handle that you have feelings for her and she might not have the same feelings for you.” You’re almost choking on the anger radiating from the two brothers, Luke keeping your head buried in your chest as he strokes your hair.
“I wish we never did this stupid bet.” You whisper against his shirt as you pull yourself out of his arms.
“I… I don’t want to listen to this,” you mutter under your breath, your voice shaky, your eyes stinging with unshed tears. Your hands tremble as you try to push away from Luke again, the reality of the situation crashing down on you in waves. Every part of you wants to lash out, to make Jack understand how much his words hurt, but all you can manage is to turn away from the chaos, retreating into yourself. Luke’s protective instinct kicks in immediately. Without a word, he steps forward, his expression fierce, eyes narrowing as he places a firm hand on the small of your back, pushing you in front of him as he guides you towards the staircase.
“Enough,” Luke snaps, his voice low and threatening, but the kind of warning that makes even Jack hesitate. “You don’t get to drag her into this. Not like this.” His gaze flickers over to you, his eyes softening with concern. “Keep walking, let them sort their shit out,” he says, his voice soft but firm, reaching out for your hand. You meet his gaze, your eyes searching his face for a moment, before nodding weakly. The hurt still lingers in your chest, but Luke’s presence is like a shield, blocking out the venom of his brothers’ words to you and to each other.
“I’m sorry,” Luke adds quietly as he leads you up the stairs. “I should’ve never let it get this far.” His grip on your hand tightens, like he’s afraid you’ll slip away from him if he lets go. You follow him, your feet dragging as the anger and frustration churn in your stomach. You want to say something, want to confront Jack for what he said, but the words seem to die on your tongue, swallowed up by the sadness in your heart.
Luke doesn’t stop until you’re safely inside your bedroom, the door shutting softly behind you. He places a gentle hand on your shoulder, turning you to face him. “Just... breathe, okay? You’re okay. You’re not what he said, and I’m sorry for all of this.”
“I didn’t... deserve that,” you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. Your hands move to cover your face, but Luke gently takes them in his own, guiding them back to your sides.
“You’re right. You didn’t,” he says, his tone firm but caring. “Jack’s an idiot. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. But we’ll fix this, alright? I promise you.” You nod slowly, the tears finally escaping, sliding down your cheeks as Luke wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a comforting embrace. The warmth of his body, the steadiness of his heartbeat, is the only thing grounding you as the weight of everything finally catches up to you.
“Everything’s going to be okay,” he murmurs against your hair. “This is a mess but we can fix it.” Luke keeps his arms around you as he walks towards your bed, only letting you go to let you slip under the covers, his hands making quick work of stripping off his shirt and kicking his shoes off before sliding onto the bed besides you, pulling you back into his arms as he lets out a long breath.
“Jack was right with some things.” Luke whispers, his warm breath fanning against the top of your head as he rests his chin there. “I am head over heels for you, and I think a part of me always has been, but I know my brothers feel something for you too and I’m not mad at you for exploring what you might feel for them.” Lukes words sink your heart into your stomach, your mouth dry as you think of what to say.
“I just hope that maybe whatever is between us is a little bit stronger, and I know that makes me selfish but a man can dream.” He lets out a bitter laugh as his hands stroke against your back.
“Luke…” you start, your voice getting caught in your throat as you feel him shake his head.
“I just needed to put that out there - I don’t expect anything but you deserve to know.” Luke cuts you off, his head moving slightly as he drops a soft kiss to your forehead. “Just sleep, we can deal with everything tomorrow.” Luke’s heart thunders in his chest, his hands steady on your back, his breath steadying out before yours does.
“I think I need to leave.” You whisper into the dark room, only brave enough to say the words once you’re certain Luke has fallen asleep.
#nhl#nhl fanfiction#nhl fic#nhl x reader#quinn hughes#jack hughes#luke hughes#quinn hughes smut#luke hughes smut#jack hughes smut#quinn hughes x reader#luke hughes x reader#jack hughes x reader#jack hughes fanfic#luke hughes fanfic#quinn hughes fanfic#mtbbw
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KEN x READER
➵ cws; f!reader, noncon, misogyny, talk of virginities, unrequited feelings, slight thoughts of death at very end, reader is a doll, bad ken :( ➵ a/n; ken is definitely ooc but idc i need him carnally. wrote this so fast after seeing the movie (amazing btw) spoilers be warned!!! p.s inbox is open ^^
Barbie's plan is in motion, and it seems like everything is going perfectly. Dolls are getting un-brainwashed left and right, including you. The moment you snap out of your trance and look down to see the incredibly small pink skirt and lace top dawning on your body, you can’t ever believe you agreed to wear that when Beach Ken gave it to you from Stereotypical Barbie’s wardrobe.
Ken. The one who started this mess. The one had you serving brewski beers and listening to long explanations on stuff you pretended to care about. A certain emotion pooled in your would-be stomach.
The Ken you used to watch pine after Barbie so deeply, the one that you always tried to console when Barbie rejected his advances. Now he’s taken over her house; well, Barbieland in general. How could he?
As Stereotypical Barbie hugs and welcomes you back as you leave the van, a thought pipes in your head. Maybe he’s doing this because Barbie doesn’t want him. She was so headstrong, front and center in every party she hosted, her smile iconic in every way imaginable. And Ken… was always on the side. Whenever he danced with you at her parties, his eyes were glued to her.
It hits you, he thinks this will work. That maybe she’ll turn around and jump into his arms once she notices what a big, strong, man he is. It won’t work and you know. But, he doesn’t.
A Barbie fills you in on what they’re doing, and how they want you to distract Beach Ken as long as possible while they round up more Barbies to un-brainwash them. Telling you how it’s perfect since he had you around a lot and he’ll be none the wiser to realize everything that’s happening.
♡♡♡
“Hi, Ken!” You exclaimed as he let you into his dojo mojo casa house. “Hi, (Y/N)!” A smile framed his face once he saw you. The artificial-looking moon hovered in the sky as a quiet hum surrounded you in the empty neighborhood.
“I was looking for you, how come you aren’t with everyone at the bonfire on the beach?” His face seemed to drop but he didn’t let go of his macho persona. “Wasn’t feelin’ it. Rather…” He thought for a second, “Watch horses. Y’know. Man things.”
You nodded, “Oh, yeah! Love all these horses you have around.” It clicked that he was avoiding things, avoiding Barbie. He wanted so desperately for her to come to his door. For her to come to him. Instead, it was you who knocked and stood in her clothes.
He huffed thanks and sat on the couch, you following beside him as he stared at a white horse gallop loop on the screen in front of both of you. It was obvious he was still bothered by his situation. A pang of sympathy left at the tip of your tongue, “Are you okay?”
This seemed to stir something in Ken, the air felt thick. “What am I doing wrong?” His voice was low. So quiet that you were almost sure it was like he didn’t want you to hear him.
But you did and you felt… bad for him. You grabbed his hands that laid on his lap with one of yours, “Ken, you can’t make something that won’t happen, happen.”
He brought his eyes from the TV to now stare at you. His blue eyes held something brooding behind them, but it didn’t deter you from continuing. “Some Barbies don’t have a Ken. Not everyone is made to follow a set of expectations, like how there’s one Alan… or me.” You trail off to include yourself, hoping he sees how you understand him.
“What I’m saying is, it’s okay that Barbie doesn’t want to be with you. I’m sure there’s more for you out here. Someone for you.” You tighten the soft grip you have on his hands to show comfort.
His face is almost unreadable, an uncomfortable silence echoes in the living room as you wonder if you messed up in trying to help. His hands now grasped yours, although a lot tighter than you’d liked. Ken chuckled, but it carried a sense of something you couldn't quite place.
“I’m an idiot!” His voice finally booms to break the silence in the house, “You’re right. You’re right. I don’t need her.” You would’ve been more optimistic in helping with his realization of independency but the grip he had on your hand was starting to hurt.
“I’ve spent so long trying to make her notice me, but why would I need her when I have you?” Your eyebrows furrowed as you tried to stand but he immediately brought you back down on the couch.
“No, no. That's not what I meant, listen to me–” He inched closer to you, using his strength to pin you down on the large couch. “No, you’re supposed to listen to me.” Betrayal, sadness, fear. So many emotions you weren’t used to swirled inside of you.
“You’re perfect, y’know? I’ve been thinking about this, us. I wasn’t sure but the way you’ve been by my side all this time, so ready to make me feel better.” He speaks as one of his hands leaves your wrists to dough at your breasts through your lace top.
“So happy to follow me around with bewski beers and to wear the cute little outfits I picked out for you. Dare I say, you look better than Barbie in them.” A dark laugh left his lips, the contrast making your stomach turn as he ignored your small pleas for him to let you go. “Now I see so clearly. We should’ve been together all this time! Ken and (Y/N). I like the sound of that more.”
You weren’t sure why your chest seemed to pound, or your mouth felt dry, or why tears pricked in your eyes. This wasn’t meant to happen. “What– what are you doing?” You felt almost twice as small as you normally were, wishing your body would shrink and wiggle out of his grasp.
His hand trailed from your chest to under your skirt, between your legs. A gasp left you when he rubbed the foreign part of you covered by a thin underwear.
“The books I’ve read said this,” His hand gave you an oddly warm sensation down there, “It’s important for us to be together. To make you mine.” Suddenly he spread your legs apart to peel down your underwear.
You’re terrified to move, not even noticing that there wasn’t a grip on your wrists anymore. His demeanor alone was enough to keep you down.
You knew what you had down there, a vagina, and you knew Ken had a penis. Though everyone in Barbieland had one or the other, nobody acknowledged it. It wasn’t something that was shunned per se, but it was like how some dolls had breasts and other’s didn’t. The peak of anything suggestive was making out, and even that disinterested you.
Now, whatever Ken is doing, is making you feel as if you're about to melt. His fingers circle around your entrance and you don’t even get enough time to get used to that feeling before he pulls away and starts lowering down his joggers to free his aching cock. His stupid faux mink coat already having been long discarded right next to your underwear.
His breathing is heavy, “That should be good, right? You’re ready now? For the sex?” Ken stares at your flushed state with lidded eyes, “I can’t wait anymore. Don’t worry, it should feel amazing!”
You have no idea what he’s talking about. He’s kissing you now, loud moans leave his lips as he sinks into you. Pain. It hurts so bad. Whatever he said about being ready, you definitely weren’t.
The stretching tears you apart and you’re unsure if the burn will ever go away. Ken’s body lays on top of you, a blubbering mess. “Ah, ah, this– this is great, so good.”
So many feelings overwhelm you in a way that it makes you want just to scream. Hate. Hate is the strongest one. You guys used to be good friends. Everything used to be right. You hate him, you hate him, you hate him. You can only repeat that in your head once he starts to thrust into you.
“Y-you’re mine, aren’t you? Ah– I, I took your virginity. That means, agh– that means you have to stay with me.” His voice mixes in with the sound of his skin slapping into yours, he says something about patriarchy and virginities. He’s claimed you, as the book says.
You wonder how long this is going to last, you’re pretty sure he’s feeling amazing, but all you feel is an ache. The pain travels up and down your body as all you can do is whimper weak cries. “(Y/N), ah-- I love you.” Ken’s thrusting faster, trailing kisses down your jawline. “Say it back, (Y/N).”
No, you can’t and you won’t. Ken keeps moaning and saying he loves you over and over again. Each time it’s like he expects you to respond with the same thing back, you don’t. It doesn’t stop him though, his movements become more and more messy. You think he’s getting tired when a harsh snap of his hips with an especially loud moan takes your breath away. A new feeling. Full.
Again, you didn’t know what just happened. A confused sob is finally let out once you catch your breath, “Ken, what did you do?” You hope he understands you through your choked breaths.
He ignores you, taking sight at the mess he just made. White cum drips out of you, a beautiful scene. “Oh, (Y/N). I wish you can see how perfect you look right now.” His hug around your body is suffocating, "I'm so excited for us to do so many new things tonight."
The new thought of dying creeps into your mind.
#barbie 2023#ken x reader#ken barbie#ryan gosling ken#cw. noncon#cw. misogyny#fem reader#dark blog#dark fanfiction#sorry for the hiatus lol
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“you’re alive in my head..”
pavitr prabhakar x reader.
genre: pure angst (a little fluff if you squint) | warnings: blood, death, sad pav☹️, super sad
summary: the canon event altered his life forever. | inspo: marjorie by taylor swift.
words: 1k.
a/n: @smokeywhalee came up with this trope and we both cried mentally adding up ideas to eachother (i love her and her ideas yall FOLLOW HER or elmo will end up next to you at 3am)
and marjorie by ts changed my life forever it’s so good i’m not okay 😊💔
p.s: please have tissues next to you 🤧 (and "they" is ur variant btw!)
so sorry in advance pookies
pavitr had been your bestfriend for so long— you were by his side ever since he became spiderman, his partner in crime, and he always liked you. —
everything about you just made him fall head over heels for you, but he never had the heart to confess owing to the fact that he doesn’t want to lose you yet.
he wished he did sooner..
ever since pavitr’s dimension was falling apart, he couldn’t help but feel devastated, afraid it would happen the same to you, and he was right.
the very moment that was happening, you so happened to be running away from the commotion— your bestfriend pavitr and the other spider people fighting for their life and his dimension, you were about to escape, but unfortunately, a big chunk of debris hits you— slamming you to the ground as you groaned in pain.
you heard the screams of pavitr from afar, as he slung over to you— his friends shouting for him to come back but he couldn't care less about them now that you were hurt badly.
he lifted the debris off of you and carried you bridal style, his words muffled as you couldn't see anything— your vision blurred.
"jaanu please hang on okay? i promise ill get you the hospital as soon as i can please don't close your eyes on me." he panicked as he removed his mask to reveal his teary-eyed face as he held you close, webbing away from the commotion as he wanted to bring you to the nearest hospital.
"pav, i..." you took all your strength to get his attention as he stopped webbing and went through the empty street, your heartbeat slowly slowing down as it became harder to breathe.
he noticed immediately and laid you on the ground, his hand cupping your cheek as he kept whispering a "no no no please no." trying to stop the blood from your chest.
"pav, i.. love you." you mumbled your last words to him as you closed your eyes— your last breath, last tear and last smile to him all leaving your body as you lay lifeless on the ground, his screams were all that was audible, becoming increasingly faint until they were completely gone.
pavitr's tears were now hitting the ground as he clutched your lifeless body, holding on it for dear life as he sobbed— his heart breaking now that he lost you, his canon event.
his tears never came to an end as he couldn't believe he was processing everything, he lost his thithli.
gwen, hobie, and miles run over to him as they saw pavitr and you, your dead body but they couldn't do anything but feel heartbroken with paviitr as it was his canon event even though you were dead now, you're alive in his head.
he wished he could spend one last prominence with you, but now that you were gone, he wished you were still around.
゚+*:ꔫ:*﹤
pavitr never moved on, never recovered from your death; if he didn't know better, he'd wish you were still alive; he wanted he could say i love you— and that remorse has filled him with guilt every single day.
hobie would always try to cheer him up and it would never work, he would still feel devastated and blame himself for your death— that he couldn't save you in time. it was never his fault.
all of this happening with his dimension falling apart and losing you hit him like a truck, he lost his spark and he'd do anything to get you back, anything — and he wished he could find one way to say i love you to you one last time.
゚+*:ꔫ:*﹤
he’d never been to hq ever since your death, he was merely drained to continue as spiderman anymore— the fear and guilt overcoming him; scared the same would happen to other people like it happened to you.
hobie got to cheer him up somewhat and convinced him to finally go to hq but when he walked in, he bumped into a familiar face he knew oh too well.
“im so sorry i—“ pavitr turned around to apologize to who he bumped when his blood ran cold, his whole body frozen as he couldn’t believe who it was, you; but not entirely.
“it’s okay! i’m fine— and are you okay?” they said, scanning pavitr’s body for any injuries and so.
“yeah— i’m, im fine— can i talk to you for a second?” pavitr said, breaking out of his trance as he grabbed their hand and walked to an empty corner.
“woah okay—“ they followed pavitr, standing in a small corner waiting for him to talk.
“are you… [name]?” he asked, your name coming out of his mouth breaking his heart. their eyes went wide— the shock of their name coming out of his mouth indirectly.
“y-yeah i’m from earth 5100..” those words broke pavitr’s heart, a lump going down his throat as he smiled— knowing that they weren’t his.
they could see the obvious heartbreak in pavitr's eyes and its like they could feel his pain too; "i suppose you lost a variant of me in your world..?" they muttered as pavitr nodded— his tears planting his brown skin as their heart broke.
"can i..?" pavitr whispered, gesturing for a hug as they agreed with open arms— he rushed to their arms, breaking down in more tears as he felt your touch again— but not entirely yours.
"i'm so sorry.. im sure they're so proud of you for getting through this, i know you want them back but im not them."
"i know.. i just wished i could say i love you to them one last time." he muttered, his face buried in their neck as he cried harder— clutching their shirt.
he has no choice but to owe the fact that he lost you, and the person in front of him is oh so heartwarming to him, its not you and he has to accept that, but you're alive in his head.
© hearts4hobie-conitagray, all rights reserved. do not steal, translate, and rewrite without permission. love y’all mwah♥️ 💋
#conitagray#hearts4hobie#angst#across the spider verse#pavitr my beloved#pavitr prabhakar#atsv pavitr#spiderverse pavitr#pavitr x reader#pavitr x you#pavitr prabhakar x reader#pav#spidervariant#pavitr#pavitr my BABY#CRYING\
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Stray: Part 5
Masterlist link
A/N: Happy Halloween, my loves! It's my favorite holiday/month and today I have a tooth-rottingly sweet, sugary, fluffy chapter for you as a treat. But Loki is also up to some of his violent and threatening tricks, so read with caution if that is something uncomfortable for you (not towards our main girl, btw). Trust me. It's wickedly satisfying.
P.S. And enormous thank you to both my long time readers and the lovely and enthusiastic new readers following along. I'm trying my best to keep up with tagging, and engaging as personally as I can, but it's getting away from me a bit as the numbers go up. Please just know that I see and read it all and it really means so much to me and I'm so grateful to you.
Stray: Part 5
The next morning Loki put his plan into action. After his breakfast and cuddle and a fond goodbye from the human, the younger prince returned to his usual form. He stood for a long while in front of the mirror, magicking different outfits and disguises until he finally settled on a perfect one.
He wore a neat blue sweater, a black pea coat, and gray trousers; everything crisp and expensive enough to be impressive and tasteful, but not flashy. Loki noted with satisfaction that the outfit hugged his long athletic body to perfection. He still had to make some concessions to his vanity, after all. He was satisfied, however, it was unnerving to see his face so changed. He labored extensively to perfect a look that would spark familiarity but not give him away, so he settled on his usual face but changed the tone of his skin from alabaster white to a healthy tan. He morphed his longer slicked black hair into butterscotch-golden curls, cut short and styled impeccably into a soft swoop of volume at the top. Although he was still afraid that it might expose him, he kept his Cheshire cat grin and his piercing eyes.
I want that part to be real. I want her to look into my eyes without illusions or deception, he reasoned. Then, with one final adjustment of his watch, a swipe over his jacket and a check of his hair, he magicked himself into the hallway and began the journey to your place of employment...that hideous building with the orange and brown sign reading Mullen's Department Store.
Of course, Loki could have simply magically transported himself there, but he chose to walk for some time in the brisk November air and took pleasure in stretching his real legs. The icy bite of a snowy December would be close on the heels of autumn. He could tell somehow. He always loved the ice and snow and was never quite sure why. The prince thought of winter in this realm with giddy anticipation, mostly because of you. With a smile, Loki thought about how you were always a little chilly, and perhaps this winter he would have the privilege of keeping you warm.
As his long graceful legs waltzed over the pavement of downtown, through the late morning crowds, he realized the novelty of this whole experience. He had never been very nervous before in matters of romance (his charm going a very long way and letting him glide through a vapid love life with ease) but none of it meant anything. None of it was real. Everything was fleeting; just how he liked it so he would never be too bored. He felt a pang of remorse which had never pricked him before, considering that his sweet moral would never treat people as disposable entertainment the way he had.
His feet slowed to a stop under the hulking department store's shadow as the thought needled him; What if I don't deserve her?
Nonetheless, he carried on. He had a plan after all, and there was no time to ruminate. As he parted the glass double doors, a hideous stretch of polished tiles sprawled out before him in display after display of appliances and apparel.
What a horrible soulless place. My poor little mortal is subjected to this each day? I have to find her.
Prince wondered for a moment, when it had become his mortal, his human...not simply the. He was assuming you were already his, but really, he was already yours.
He marinated in these thoughts as he searched for you until he heard the sweet syllables of your name called by a young lady in a uniform identical to yours. Loki watched as the frazzled girl asked you a panicked question about the hulking machine in front of her. He watched, rapt, as you soothed, “Hey, Janet. It's okay. Stop calling yourself stupid. You're not stupid. You're just still learning. I had the same problem at first. Here, I'll show you a trick.” You softly put your hand on her shoulder as you explained patiently. A drawer full of cash slid open with a click and Janet's face lit up with relief as you said, “See! I knew you could do it. Keep going and call me if you need anything else. I'm right here.”
Loki's heart turned absolutely molten as he watched. You had just shown more patience and compassion in a matter of minutes than he had probably shown in several hundred years. He swallowed a little nervous gulp, took a deep breath, and approached you with what he hoped was a casual stride and a friendly smile.
“Hello...Miss?” he said, bending down to catch your eye from where you were restocking gift boxes. When you glanced over, your eyes went wide and several items tumbled out of you arms. With the quickest reflexes you'd ever seen, the handsome stranger reached out his long arms to catch them.
You breathed a deep sigh of relief and then chuckled. “Oh, sir, I'm so sorry! You snuck up on me, there. Thanks for the save. There's glass in these. Would have been a real mess and...” you stroked a hand through your hair and blushed, trailing off. Then you really observed his face and immediately lost your train of thought. He was absurdly handsome and oddly familiar, in a combination that left you very shy and very frazzled.
Finding words after a beat, you said, “Sorry! Rambling...What can I help you with?”
“I'm...um...terribly sorry to trouble you. I seem to have strayed a bit. I'm looking for the menswear department.” He paused to peak his eyebrows sweetly and put his hands in his pockets, stepping ever so slightly closer to you while holding your gaze in a vice grip, “and I'm afraid I need a lady's help to pick out a suitable tie. Would you be so kind as to assist me?”
You just stood there a moment, eyes wide and mouth open like a fish. You shook your head and came back to your senses. “Oh...oh! Menswear is just one floor up and to the left. I'm afraid that's not my department.” You laughed nervously, cheeks aching from your awkward smile, “I wouldn't know the first thing about men's fashion, but Tammy works of there. She's lovely and knows absolutely everything about putting suits together...really good taste...”. You paused your torrent of words to shake your head and still your wildly gesticulating hands. The stranger just listened intently while flashing a stunning, amused grin. He was watching you as if you were the most fascinating creature he had ever met. “Sorry...I'm rambling again. I don't mean to be too nosy, but have we met before? You seem incredibly familiar. Shopped here before maybe?”
Loki quickly realized you were putting it all together. Soon it would dawn on you. His eyes must have given him away, but he saw a solution and said smoothly, “Oh...yes. Yes, I've been by here a few times. I'm sure we've passed each other. You look familiar as well. I never forget a lovely face.”
A pleasant fragrance of mint and pine struck you with a lightning bolt of comprehension, but being a generally sane person you found a logical explanation.
Of course! I was reading that page about Loki. I saw this man around here, and it must have all just seeped into my subconscious...got into my dreams. I guess I ought to thank my brain, because he is stunning. Jesus Christ, how could I forget him? I guess I even remembered his cologne. He seems a little too charming to trust though. Probably complimenting me to get something out of me.
He blinked and looked down at his perfectly polished shoes, setting one finger pensively against his lips. He nodded thoughtfully and said, “Right...One floor up to the left?”
“Yes, sir. And Tammy will be the one to help you.”
Loki immediately discovered that you calling him “sir” had a very particular effect on him, but he decided to tuck that thought away for much much later. The charmer began to feel a little fizzle of panic as you began to turn back to your work. Wasting this chance would devastate him.
“Tammy...right,” he said flatly. “Thank you for your help,” he said with a smooth grin. “Oh...and...one more thing.”
“Yes?”
“Would you be so kind as to join me for lunch?”
You just stared, utterly baffled, for a long moment. Trying to process that this had actually just happened. (In fact, about half a dozen of your coworkers were doing the same thing, rubbernecking this train wreck of your social skills with their mouths agape).
You shook off the impulse to follow this man literally anywhere he asked and switched to a more sensible tactic. You asked skeptically, “Forgive me for being blunt...but you don't need a tie, do you?”
He threw his hands up in a gleeful and mischievous expression and declared, “Guilty as charged.”
You giggled at his shamelessness then advised, “Well if you're looking for what I think you're looking for, there are much prettier and more socially graceful shop girls than me around, but I'm very flattered. Don't get me wrong.”
His eyes shot wide open and he put his hands up saying, “Oh no no! Please don't misunderstand me. I'm not that kind of man. I just find you interesting. I promise you, I'd just like to chat. Cafe next door? 12:30?”
Thinking of your pitiful bank account you excused yourself saying, “I'm sorry, but I really can't. I only have 30 minutes and...”
He winked. Jesus...he winked and it made you absolutely melt into putty in his elegant hands. Lowering his voice to a delicious whisper he said, “Come on...my treat. Let's have a bit of fun, shall we?”
Very uncharacteristically and with complete abandon, you answered, “Okay...okay,” grinning and nodding over and over in a cloud of delirious infatuation that carried you through the morning and into your much-anticipated lunch date.
-------
While you worked as best you could, floating around with hearts in your eyes, Loki was putting his own enamored giddiness on the back burner for the time being. The god of mischief still had work to do and he needed ice in his veins. As he strode off the elevator and into the hallway of the top floor, he was back in his black suit and tie and white shirt, pitch black hair perfectly slicked back; every strand in its right place. He let out a derisive little bark of laughter at Mr. Mullen's locked office door, and the note stuck to it that said “Out of office. Back in one hour.”
Loki effortlessly drifted through the door in a glow of green smoke and settled in; somehow dominating the vast room with his singular presence. He sat, relaxed, biding his time with a tumbler of Mr. Mullen's fine Scotch whiskey. As the morning sun glared through the windows, the trickster donned his sunglasses and summoned an elaborate and very lethal switchblade. He gave a sideways smirk as he flicked it open with a satisfying click and began twirling it in his nimble hand, watching the glimmer of it in the sunshine. The god of mischief despised tedium more than nearly anything, but he was no stranger to patience in the service of a cunning plan. And this...oh this would be a worth waiting for, he mused as he coolly sipped the amber liquid and flipped his gleaming blade.
The door unlocked and a red-faced, balding man shuffled through the door. He squealed and flinched, seeing the tall dark stranger sitting with his legs crossed and feet resting on his gaudy desk. Loki swung his legs down lazily and sat up straight, saying crisply, “Mr. Mullen, I presume?”
“Who...who the fuck are you? This...this door was locked!”
Loki slid off his sunglasses and peaked an eyebrow haughtily in Mullen's direction. Arctic irises skewered the pitiful man as he quipped, “Hah...please. And you, Mr. Mullen, have not earned the pleasure of knowing my name. All you need to know...” he said leaning forward to carefully place his scotch on the desk, and swing his switchblade deftly in his direction, like a conductor's wand, “..is that I am someone very very dangerous. Now...have a seat.”
Mullen, red and shaking, did has he was told and Loki smiled wickedly. Oh, he had missed these kinds of games. It felt strangely righteous to be so wicked, but for such a good reason. He was so pleased to make this man cower in the same chair where he had made his precious mortal feel small and worthless. He had to admit, it felt good to be in his element again, and to use what he knew best.
Loki knew, for example, that nothing makes people squirm and break more easily than keeping them wondering. Often, the longer he stayed cool and silent, the more his opponent's imagination would fill in the gaps of assumption, volunteering their most heinous secrets in desperation. And just as he predicted, the businessman folded easily, jumping quickly upon his own dagger of dread.
The businessman sputtered out, “What are you? FBI...CIA...I was wondering when you men in black would start crawling out of the woodwork to bother me.”
Loki glared, lowering his voice. “Worse, I'm afraid.”
Mullen's mouth dropped open and his beady eyes shone with terror, “My god...you're one of Vinny's men aren't you? I...I told him I was good for it. I'm counting on him for this whole operation...I wouldn't betray...”
Loki tutted and scolded, “Good heavens, no wonder this city is in turmoil! With such abuse of power...dehumanizing people different from yourselves, squashing them under your expensive designer shoes while they toil away...what else could you expect? Narrow-minded idiots...the lot of you.”
The trapped man whimpered and sweated through his suit in ugly patches. He began to blubber something incomprehensible.
The god stood up and stalked towards his victim, knife held deftly up to his lips in a silencing gesture. “Shh. Shh. Shhhh. I'm not here to hear you talk. I am here to tell you what to do. Is that clear?”
The man said nothing, only trembled. Loki brought the blade closer to Mullen's face. “I said, is that clear?”
“Yes...y...yess.”
“Alright.” He smiled maniacally. “See? That wasn't so hard. Now...listen. There was a very clever young lady who came to you yesterday, politely asking for a chance to advance her career and you shooed her away like a stray animal,” he said, growling the last few words.
Loki came closer, propping the knife under his chin and forcing Mullen's eyes to meet his own. “Rude, Mr. Mullen. Inexcusably rude...and it has drawn the attention of an entity you very much do not want to agitate. So, if you would like exit this room intact, you will do the following: you will apologize properly to that young lady, you will give her the chance she very much deserves, and you will not say a word about this meeting to anyone. If you dare to, I will do terrible, awful things to you. Do you understand? Do we have an agreement?”
“Y...ye...yes.”
“Good. Now,” Loki said crisply, then glanced at his watch, “my time is very precious Mr. Mullen, especially today, and I've already wasted too much on you. Maybe if you had given her the time she deserved we wouldn't have to deal with this little inconvenience. Have a nice day,” he said with a wide, menacing smile (more of a showing of teeth than a sign of happiness), as he swanned out of the room.
Now, Loki thought as he walked down the hall with a spring in his step and a smirk on his lips, I have a date.
@averagetmblrusser @fruityfucker @arunabrak @mischief2sarawr @ladyofthestayingpower @acidcasualties @unlucky-number-13 @goblingirlsarah @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokihiddleston @chokeanddagger @lokischambermaid @lokisgoodgirl @marcotheflychair @smolvenger @alexakeyloveloki @littlespaceyelf @little-wormwood @loopsisloops @joyful-enchantress @eleniblue @loz-3 @the-haven-of-fiction @sweetsigyn @muddyorbs @icytrickster17 @holdmytesseract @thenerdyoldersister @thedistractedagglomeration @sailorholly @coldnique @sarahscribbles @peachyjinx @infinitystoner @peaches1958 @mischiefmaker615 @jennyggggrrr @tripleyeeet @itsybitchylittlewitchy @mochie85 @huntress-artemiss @madi0987 @buttercupcookies-blog @annoyingsweetsstranger @primrosesposts @anda-the-valkyrie @ozymdias @pwinglez1 @evelyn-rathmore @anukulee
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HIII BFFF!!!🤗🤗 i hope u are well!!!
sorry for not being active 😣😣 a gal has been booked and BUSY. but hopefully i’ll have some more free time soon 🙏🙏
i was going to write something like this… howeverrrr i have a lot of ideas already & i think you can do a really good job with this!!!
but basically you can pick either josh or tyler & the reader is a pop rock kinda artist & tyler/josh have always admired her from afar. so they invite the reader to open for them on tour. there’s some romantic tension & reader plays a song dedicated to tyler/josh & the fans r all 😮😮😮
something like that!!!! you can do whatever with it, i think there’s a lot of directions you can take this:3
p.s how are you feeling abt getting a LIVE ALBUM… still in shock.
Smithereens - Tyler Joseph x Singer!Reader
Warnings: Nothing hehe
Word Count: 3648 - pretty sure this is officially the longest fic I've written and posted on here :)
A/N: OH MA GAWD THIS WAS FUN AF FREN... this is so freaking cute I can't even deal with it! I'm in massive shock at the fact we're getting a live album btw my show isn't even until November and things just keep getting better and better with the tour lol I can't believe we're getting some of the transitions like natn to hds like WHAT THE WOW oh and the possibility of hometown x slowtown (um slowtown on streaming???? Tyler the man u ur–and josh bc ily). I cannot wait. oh and heathens into next semester... I'm so excited bc the setlist is so good it's gonna rock and be on repeat forever. Anyways, enough rambling onto the amazing fic I am incredibly proud of! 😁
“What!” I barked into my phone, rubbing my eyes until my vision went from blurry to clear. It had been a crazy night before, staying up late partying with my friends before falling to sleep at 3am. What had woken me up was a series of buzzing noises from my phone, buzz after buzz after buzz until it started ringing.
“Y/N? It’s Mary.” Shit. My manager.
“Oh! Sorry! It was a hectic night,” I laughed, running a hand through my hair.
Her laugh echoed through the speakers of my phone. “So I’ve heard. It’s all over social media.” I shook my head, knowing exactly who had posted what to their thousands of followers.
“What’s up?” I asked, flopping down onto my perfectly plump pillows.
“I’ve booked you a tour!” I could tell she was ecstatic, even more so that I was. We’d been hoping to book a tour for the last year and a half and finally we’d done it. It was hard trying to find bands or musicians who were open to having newer and alternative artists open for them–especially someone whose genre is somewhat all over the place.
“What?” I shot up in bed, wide awake now, the sleepiness immediately replaced by a rush of excitement and nerves. “With who?”
Mary hesitated for a moment, letting the anticipation build. “Well... how do you feel about opening for Twenty One Pilots?”
My heart practically leapt out of my chest. Twenty One Pilots? As in Josh Dun and Tyler Joseph? I’d always admired them, like... from afar. Sure, we’d crossed paths a few times at festivals and award shows, but nothing like this. In fact, I wasn’t even sure if they’d heard of me before.
“You’re kidding,” I breathed out, my voice barely a whisper.
“Not at all,” she replied, her tone giddy with excitement for me. “They specifically asked for you. Apparently, Tyler’s been a big fan of your music for a while. This could be huge, Y/N.”
I could hardly process it. “Wait… they asked for me? Tyler listens to my music? Sorry WHAT?!” Tyler Joseph? A fan of my music? It felt unreal. “I—” I stammered, feeling overwhelmed. “When does it start?”
“Next month. But you’re going to need to rehearse like crazy to get ready.”
“I’ll be ready.” I hung up the phone and collapsed back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling in disbelief. I was going on tour with Twenty One Pilots. Tyler and Josh. The guys I had admired for years were now... going to be watching me from backstage? I felt a shiver of nervous energy run down my spine.
A few weeks later, rehearsals were in full swing, and I was gearing up for the first show.
“Y/N! They’re here!” My friend Joseph had screeched running into the rehearsal space. “No way.” I covered my mouth to try and hide the growing psychotic smile on my face. I was going to pass out from excitement. This wasn’t happening. I turned to the entrance to see the two of them strutting in, shaking the hands and bumping the fists of crew members they both knew and didn’t know. My heart was pounding as I watched them walk in, every movement somehow both casual and magnetic. Josh, with his surprisingly natural brown hair and classic easy smile, waved at a few familiar faces, while Tyler, wearing his usual baseball cap and oversized hoodie, exuded that quiet intensity I’d always admired. They looked like they belonged, like they owned the room without even trying. And here I was, standing in the middle of the rehearsal space, trying not to lose my cool.
Joseph was practically vibrating with excitement beside me, nudging me with his elbow. “Dude, go say hi!” he whispered, eyes wide.
“I-I can’t. Look at them,” I replied, clenching my jaw through every world to hide my delusion.
I swallowed hard, my palms already sweaty. What was I supposed to say? Hey, I'm Y/N, a rando who's admired you from afar for years? Oh, and thanks for asking me to open for you on tour, no big deal.
Before I could overthink it any more, Tyler's eyes landed on me. My breath hitched as he gave me a nod and a small smile, his gaze lingering just long enough to make my pulse race. He elbowed Josh, who turned and followed his gaze.
“Oh man, it’s her!” Josh said, grinning as they walked over. Sorry, what?
“Y/N, right?” Tyler said, his voice warm but somehow deeper in person.
I turned to look around the room as if trying to figure out if he was talking to me or not. “Uh… yeah?” I said, it came out more like a question than an answer. “Yeah, that's me,” I repeated, trying to sound casual even though my heart was doing backflips. “Thanks for, uh... asking me to open for you guys. It's an honor.”
Tyler exchanged a glance with Josh, something unspoken passing between them. “We’ve been following your music for a while now,” Tyler admitted, rubbing the back of his neck like he was just as unsure of what to say as I was. “You–You’re really talented.”
I blinked, trying to process the fact that Tyler Joseph just said that to me. “Thanks. That means a lot, really.”
“We’re stoked to have you on board,” Josh chimed in, flashing that friendly, easygoing smile. “I think the fans are gonna lose it when they see you perform.”
“Yeah,” Tyler added, his eyes meeting mine again. “It's gonna be a good tour.”
There was something in the way he said it, the weight behind his words, that made my skin tingle. I felt that spark again, the same one I’d felt from watching him in interviews and onstage, but this time it was real. Tangible.
Over the next few days, I kept catching Tyler’s eyes during rehearsals, our conversations short but loaded with something unspoken. It was subtle—just the way his gaze lingered a little too long, or how his smile felt more personal when it was directed at me. I wasn’t sure if I was crazy–my immense crush on the multi-talented lead singer getting the best of me–or if he had noticed the same thing. The energy between us felt electric, charged with something we weren’t quite saying out loud.
One evening, after my home city show, I was sitting out on the stage–the venue completely empty. I was alone, staring out at the abandoned seats and floor, still able to feel the energy from less than a few hours ago. Letting out a deep sigh, I heard footsteps behind me. I turned to see Tyler standing there, hands in his hoodie pockets, his expression unreadable.
“Mind if I join you?” he asked softly.
I shook my head, patting the spot beside me. “Not at all.”
He sat down, close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating off him, the proximity making my heart race. We sat there in comfortable silence for a moment, the faint hum of the venue’s equipment the only sound. I could feel his eyes on me as I picked up my ukulele which was sitting next to me and started absentmindedly strumming a few chords.
“I didn’t get to say it earlier,” Tyler started, his voice quiet, like he wasn’t sure how much he wanted to reveal. “But… your performance today? It was incredible.”
I glanced over at him, biting back a smile. “I didn’t know you were watching.”
“I’m always watching,” he said, his gaze intense, sending a shiver down my spine.
I swallowed hard, trying to keep my cool, but it was impossible with the way he was looking at me. “I’m trying… I’m so worried that I’m gonna mess up and make a fool of myself in front of your fans.”
“You’re not and you won’t,” he said quickly, his eyes searching mine. “Far from it, actually. Last time I checked twitter they were talking about how much they love you.”
We fell into another heavy silence, the air between us thick with tension. My pulse was racing, and I felt like there were a million things I wanted to say, but none of them made sense in my head. Tyler shifted slightly, his knee brushing against mine, and even that small touch sent sparks through me.
“Is it weird,” I started slowly, my voice fragile, “that I feel like I’ve known you for longer than I have?”
The question clearly caught him off guard. His breath hitched, but I forced myself to stay calm. “No, it’s not weird,” he said, glancing down at the floor. “I feel that way too.” Tyler smiled, a small, almost shy smile that made my heart flutter.
“It’s just… I’ve been following your music for so long, and now that you’re here… I don’t know, it’s different.”
“Different how?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
I hesitated, his eyes flicking to my lips for just a second before I answered. “Better. Way better than I imagined.”
The air between us felt charged, like something was about to happen, but neither of us made the next move. I could feel the weight of his words settling into the space between us, making everything feel more real, more intense.
I had to break the tension before it swallowed me whole.
“Speaking of better,” I said, trying to lighten the mood but failing to mask the shakiness in my voice. “I was thinking of doing something special for tomorrow’s show.”
Tyler raised an eyebrow, curious. “What’s that?”
I glanced at him, feeling a rush of boldness as the idea solidified in my mind. “I was thinking… I’d cover one of your songs.”
His eyes widened, clearly surprised. “You’d cover one of our songs?”
“Yeah,” I said, biting my lip nervously.
Tyler blinked, taken aback, and for a moment I wondered if I’d gone too far. But then his expression softened, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
“Which song?” he smirked, laying back on the stage.
“Something off Trench, it’s not on your setlist if that’s what you’re worried about,” I laughed, joining him.
“Why?” he asked, his voice low, like he already knew the answer but wanted to hear me say it.
I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of what I was about to admit. “Because it’s personal. And I’ve listened to your music for so long. It’s always been a dream of mine to get to perform one of your songs live.”
For a second, the world seemed to stop. Tyler’s smile faded, replaced by something deeper, something I couldn’t quite read. His eyes searched mine, and I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, waiting for his response.
“You… you’d really do that?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Yeah,” I said, my voice steady even though my nerves were all over the place. “I mean, if that’s okay with you.”
He didn’t say anything for a moment, just kept looking at me like he was trying to figure something out. Then, finally, he smiled—a real, genuine smile that made my breath catch.
“It’s more than okay,” he said softly. “I think it’s… perfect.”
The tension between us didn’t break; if anything, it intensified. But it was different now, like we’d crossed some invisible line, and there was no going back.
The next night, the arena was buzzing with energy. I could feel the excitement in the air as I took the stage, the fans screaming and cheering, completely unaware of the surprise I had in store.
After a few songs, I paused, taking a deep breath as I stepped up to the mic. The crowd quieted, waiting for what was next.
“How’re we doing tonight Seattle?” A roar of screams and cheers rang through the venue. “I’ve got a little surprise for you guys tonight," I said, my voice echoing through the speakers. “I’m going to do something I’ve never done before. I’m going to do a cover of a song that means so much to me. A song that a certain band didn’t put on their setlist this tour. Any guesses who I’m covering?” I laughed.
The crowd erupted into cheers, and I smiled, glancing toward the side of the stage where Tyler stood, watching me. Our eyes met, and I felt that familiar spark, the unspoken connection between us stronger than ever.
“You want to come up and play piano for this one Ty?” I asked, the crowd erupting in cheers. Tyler shook his head, hiding his face in his hands. “No? Oh come on, you know you want to. The sheet music’s up there…” I turned to the audience, “I haven’t told him what song I’m playing yet,” I laughed. “You sure you don’t wanna come play?” The fans started chanting for him to join me.
“Tyler! Tyler! Tyler!”
“Oh fine!” he shouted, his voice barely audible over the crowd. He climbed on stage and jogged over to the piano, shaking his head with an embarrassed smile. “You're really doing this, huh?” he teased as he adjusted the mic on the piano, sitting down with an exaggerated sigh. I walked over to him, turning the mic off for a second.
I grinned lightly as the energy of the crowd buzzed in the air. “Oh, I am definitely doing this. And you’re gonna enjoy it.”
Tyler's hands hovered over the keys, clearly waiting for the cue. “Smithereens? Really?” he laughed and I nodded, proud of myself. Tyler turned the mic back on as I waltzed back to my spot.
“Alright,” I said, glancing over at him. “This one’s for you Tyler.”
The crowd went wild, their reaction so loud it almost drowned out my words. Tyler chuckled into the mic, shaking his head again in disbelief, but his fingers were already on the keys, playing the opening melody. The soft, familiar notes filled the arena, and my heart started racing again, but for a different reason this time. This was personal. Intimate. And Tyler was right there, playing along with me.
I began singing, my voice steady but carrying all the emotion I had for the moment. I looked over at Tyler as I sang the words, and he glanced up, meeting my gaze for just a heartbeat. There was something in his eyes—something deeper than just admiration, something almost vulnerable. My chest tightened as I sang the next line, the weight of the song suddenly feeling more significant, more real than ever.
Tyler’s playing was flawless, but there was a hint of tension in his posture, like he was trying to keep something in check. I knew exactly how he felt; the energy between us was palpable, the tension from all those unspoken moments finally reaching a crescendo. The crowd sang along, but it was like they were in the background, as if this performance was happening in our own bubble. Just me and Tyler.
Every word felt like it was meant for him, and I couldn’t stop myself from looking at him between the lyrics, feeling the connection spark every time our eyes met. When I hit the chorus, the crowd sang so loud I almost couldn’t hear myself. Tyler grinned, his fingers dancing over the keys, the music swelling around us, and for a second, I forgot we were even on stage. It was just him and me, sharing this raw, unfiltered moment.
As the song came to a close, the final notes ringing out, I turned to face Tyler fully. His gaze was locked on mine, his expression unreadable but intense. The applause and cheers from the audience roared to life, but I barely heard them. Tyler stood up from the piano, slowly walking over to me, and without thinking, I pulled him into a tight hug. The crowd went wild again, their cheers reaching a fever pitch, but it was just background noise to the heartbeat pounding in my ears.
As Tyler wrapped his arms around me in a warm embrace, time seemed to stand still. The world outside faded into the background—the roar of the crowd turned into a distant hum as I buried my face in his shoulder, savoring the moment. His warmth enveloped me, grounding me in the excitement and emotion of what we had just shared.
When we finally pulled back, Tyler kept his hands on my shoulders, his gaze holding mine for just a moment longer than necessary. A shy, yet genuine smile played on his lips, and my heart fluttered. I could feel my cheeks heating up, but I couldn't look away from him.
“Thank you for that,” Tyler said, his voice low but filled with an intensity that made my heart race. “You were incredible.”
I nodded, still breathless. “I’m glad you liked it.”
“I didn’t just like it Y/N, it means more than just liking it,” he whispered into my ear.
The energy in the venue surged as I turned to the audience, their cheers echoing through the air. With a grin, I stepped back to the mic, trying to compose myself. “Wow, thank you, Seattle! You guys have been amazing tonight!” The crowd roared, and I took a deep breath, adrenaline coursing through my veins.
“This is the end of my set, but stick around because the real show is about to start! Twenty One Pilots is up next!” I waved to the fans, their cheers drowning out my words. “Thank you all so much! I love you!”
As I stepped away from the mic, Tyler clapped a hand on my back, leading me off stage. The moment we were out of view from the audience, the energy shifted. Tyler turned to me, his expression more serious, and I could see a mix of admiration and something deeper in his eyes.
“You made that song come alive in a way I never expected. You’re something else aren’t you?” he said, stepping closer, the air thick with unspoken words.
I chuckled, shrugging slightly and running a hand through my hair. “I just felt right to play,” I admitted, heart pounding. “It means a lot to me, Tyler.”
He took a step closer, his voice dropping to a soft, intimate whisper. “You’re more than just a talented artist, Y/N. You’re something else entirely. That performance made me realize how lucky I am to have you on this tour. And honestly?” He paused, searching my eyes, the tension palpable. “It just further confirmed how I feel about you, not just as an artist, but as a person.”
My breath caught in my throat, a rush of warmth flooding through me at his words. “I admire you too, Tyler. You and Josh have been a huge inspiration to me.”
Tyler smiled, a soft, genuine smile that made my heart race. “No, really. That was more than just a performance to me. It felt personal. There’s something here, between us.”
I nodded, my heart pounding in my chest as I took a step closer to him. “I feel it too. I’ve been trying to figure out how to say it.”
He brushed a thumb over my cheek, his gaze unwavering. “Then let’s not overthink it. I’m here, you’re here, we clearly both feel something for each other,” he brushed a strand of hair that had fallen into my face behind my ear. “Every time you look at me, it’s like you see straight through to my soul.”
I swallowed hard, his words washing over me. “I could say the same about you.”
“Good,” he replied, his voice deepening. “Because I want to explore whatever this is between us. I want to see where it leads.”
With the distance between us closing, I felt the thrill of the moment, the intensity of his words and the warmth of his presence enveloping me. I wanted to lean in, to let him know just how much I felt, but the excitement and nervousness tangled together in a way that made me hesitant.
Tyler stepped forward, closing the gap even further. “Y/N,” he murmured, his voice soft, yet commanding. “You’ve got to know that every word of that song was a reflection of how I feel about you. It might not have been written with anyone in mind but it’s exactly how I feel about you. And I’ve been waiting for the right moment to tell you how much you mean to me.”
Before I could respond, he leaned in, his lips brushing against mine, sending sparks of electricity through my entire being. The kiss was soft, yet filled with an undeniable passion, and in that moment, everything else faded away. All the worries, the nerves—everything was drowned out by the intensity of his kiss.
When we finally pulled apart, breathless, he smiled down at me, his expression both playful and serious. “I think I’m going to enjoy this tour a lot more now.”
I laughed, the tension lifting as I felt lighter, happier than I had in a long time. “Me too, Tyler. Me too.” I held onto his hand, brushing my thumb over the back of his hand. “Now, you’re supposed to go on in 10 minutes so you should probably go find Josh.”
“Oh damn you’re right,” he looked up at the clock on the wall noticing the time. He started down the hall in the direction of their dressing room but stopped to turn back towards me. “I–We–We’re going out after the show, okay?”
I nodded, letting out a quiet chuckle. “I’ll come find you. But you really need to go,” I smiled.
“I really need to go,” he repeated, looking slightly sad that he had to leave. And with that, he walked back into his dressing room, the excitement of the night still crackling in the air.
//
REQUESTS ARE ALWAYS OPEN TEAM!
#masterlist#twenty one pilots#joshua dun#tyler joseph#fanfic#clancy#twenty one pilots imagines#Josh dun#twentyonepilots#tyler Joseph imagines#Josh dun imagines#trench#Clancy imagines#dema#tyler joseph fan fiction#blurryface#blurryface fanfiction#Twenty One Pilots#twenty one pilots edit#twenty øne piløts#josh#Joshua dun#josh dun fanfiction#torchbearer#reader x twenty one pilots#reader x tyler joseph#reader x josh dun
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This year, I'm not doing Dr*cula D*ily
Or any other substack but DD is the biggest. I have numerous reasons for this decision that none of y'all are gonna particularly care for, but ya know, just so we got our expectations in order: I'm not gonna participate in DD this year (maybe never again), I'm probably not gonna reblog many posts related to it (doing so would be counterintuitive), but I am holding myself to finishing Orice (at LEAST the base fic).
Now, why?
TL;DR: Mental health crisis brought on by internet harassment and overprioritizing social media. It's not fun anymore, folks.
DD just... it completely ruined the novel for me.
It was a nice phenomenon, but it took a wrecking ball to my mental health and self-worth. Now, I'm not saying DD's creator personally did something to spite me (or maybe I am, he knows what he did /j), but this whole thing? It wasn't good for me. It was never good. It was sometimes fun, but most of the time it made me want to end it because of thumblr notes.
That's fucking stupid. My life is not worth internet validation. My art is not worthless just because my numbers are not as big as the biggest big shots in the fandom. I'm not a horrible person when other people handle personal disagreements regarding headcanon with defaming rumours and impersonation. But hell! My view of reality was horribly skewed.
A while back, I unfollowed all the gothlit tags I previously followed because 1) Some people (active and popular members of the fandom, mind you, not bots or trolls) were posting honest-to-god name-dropping harassment in the tag because "it's a popular tag so more people will see my callout post" and 2) I reached a point where seeing anything related to the novel on my dash just set me off. It didn't even need to be drama-related anymore. Mentions of the characters, mentions of popular AUs, just the very content of this book became triggering to me, and I really didn't miss the content when it was gone, as sad as that is.
And the kicker? I've come to realize that I probably dislike more things about the novel than I actually like about it. Not only is it tied to some of my darkest moments in recent memory, but it's also just... a book with many flaws that I could go on and on and on about. Sometimes, it straight-up made me furious, like seething mad, and I think I'd rather just be happy. But even when I would try to channel that energy into being happy, I always felt I had to over-clarify or else I’d get bombarded with anonymous messages. If you’ve seen any of my posts from during that time… chances are there is a passive aggressive “btw people can have opposing opinions from you about an old book and it doesn’t give you leave to stone them” or several tags of “#this is a joke #a jooooooke #for the love of god #if y’all don’t stop”. I bet it was as annoying for y’all as it was for me.
P.S. Mutuals/friends, do not worry. Y'all keep doing y'all. I can and will block tags if seeing your posts triggers me. So, I suppose my only request is to properly tag, but I've been saying that from the very start.
I just want to move on to other things.
I took a break for Lent. I needed it terribly. And... not gonna lie? I almost didn't want to return. I never got an itching to just log on and "check in". I very successfully avoided tumb altogether. I came back because "I gotta come back eventually" and also like, this is my main hub where I update when I've written a fic, and ya know... I'm not gonna let toxic fandom bs rule my shit.
During my break, I got back into gaming. More specifically, I started playing Hades again. And listening to Epic the Musical. Aaaand boyyy did that bring me back to my Greek mythology phase. I have a Greek mythos/Hades sideblog btw: @areopagusimp. It's cringe, if you can't tell by the blog name.
Back when I was into Hades game and general Greek mythos, my expectations were so much smaller, but yet, my goals and will to create seemed so much bigger. I made art that no one gave a single solitary shit about (except for my friend), but I was happy. Maybe I'm wearing rose-tinted glasses, but... even if I wasn't as happy then as I remember being... haha at least I wasn't receiving threats and insults in my inbox back then :))). That was the most fun thing about the gothlit fandom. I hope every single chickenhearted angry anon is proud of their behaviour.
But yeah, whatever I end up doing, I’m striving to not let it run me into the ground.
But... What do I do now?
I have so many WIPs (art and writing) for the novel, and it's very disappointing that I didn't get to finish them before it all turned sour. Hopefully, I can still finish them, it just won't be with the same distress I worked with before. Hopefully, I can post that stuff and fully manage my expectations, not crash and burn when only a few people like it. Because hell! A few people liking my stuff? That's amazing, really. I shouldn't take that for granted. At the same time, I'm setting a boundary for myself. Placing my self-worth into the hands of people who I don't know, who don't know me, and who aren't even paying for the art? I need to stop that. Who the hell is that gonna serve? Absolutely no one.
My number one goal is to finish Orice. It is somehow untouched by my aversion to the novel; it is my safe space. I want to honour it and honour the longtime readers who have stuck with me. It's gonna be hard, but it's gonna be worth it for me.
This feels attention-seeking, and it kinda is. I'm not tagging the main subject and I'm not allowing reblogs because I want this to stay isolated (and hopefully prevent backlash/misunderstandings), but ya know, no matter how much I try to keep this small, I'm still posting it online. But I just feel like I needed to get this off my chest. I don't really owe everyone an explanation, but I want there to be one for my own sake... also it's much easier to generalize and make a post than contact each of my friends/mutuals on here and unload stuff onto them that I'm not sure is too personal or not.
For those of you who are reading: I love y'all. I love the good people I've met through all this mess. I want to keep the good apples, not throw out the whole harvest, alright? Dunno how much you'll care for my art when the subject is different, but... eh. If y'all are willing to try?
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What do you think are Aizawa and Yamada’s greatest personality strengths and weaknesses? Why? What do you love about their dynamic?
So, I don't see many Eraserhead/Present Mic shipper, so glad when finding your blog...(Hope you don't mind I use the same frame from your satosugu ask)
P.s 1
Can I ask, why did you dislike BNHA ending?
I know it's anti climatic but for BKDK shipper (me) the last 20-25 chapters feels like out of some fanfics. I can't believe we got that many BKDK canon moments and no canon m/f ending... (Sorry if you're anti Bakugou or anti BKDK, please don't hate me)
P.s 2
Now, that we got the feel of JJK ending, which did you feel more disappointed, JJK ending or BNHA ending?
Sorry for the late answer, I completely forgot about this ask 😭😭
I don't post much about Erasermic because I'm far out of my MHA hyperfixation. I still love them obviously but I stopped being obsessed with them 2 years ago so you probably quickly get bored if you follow me for that kind of content
Why I love them ? Well, they're the moonlight x sunshine cliché trope, PLUS they're best friends to lovers !! They met in high school and stay together, Aizawa is kind of a tsundere and Mic constantly calls him out on that ! And they're really cute together. Also, they're liars.
Aizawa pretends he doesn't but he cares so much about people he's willing to risk his life to protect them. And he knows that. He knows it's bad and dangerous too, which is why he teaches everyone around him to not do the same thing. Aizawa believes in his people, he believes they can change, they can do better, and he believes most people deserve to be saved. He's actually a sweetheart.
Mic is way less nice than he wants you to believe. He's impulsive and says his thoughts out loud, and most times they're insulting. He's kinda selfish, which doesn't mean he's a bad hero btw. He sees villains as criminals, he doesn't respect them, and doesn't care about them. He's not very merciful or lenient. He wasn't going to give Shirakumo/Blackmist a chance. He accused Bakugo of fighting seriously during a fighting tournament. Of course he's not on an extreme level of grudge and resentment, but Aizawa is more willing to forgive people than Mic is.
They complete each other and I love that. I love how they changed during the manga. Aizawa started as a scary and strict teacher, and Mic looked like the cool and positive teacher. At the end of the manga, Aizawa keeps smiling and being so pure and lovely, while Mic is bitter and frustrated and sad, and can hardly bring himself to laugh. I love them.
A few years prior I would say much more things about them but I haven't read an mha fanfiction for a while so my analysis isn't that deep. Also I don't feel like answering the weaknesses/strength thing today.
Anyway, as for the ending, of course it's great for BKDK shipper, which I am a part of. And no I'm clearly not a Bakugo hater, he's one of my favorite characters, I love him. I also think he has one of the best character development in the entire serie. So, yeah, this is the perfect bakudeku ending, they're so sweet and cute, but this doesn't mean I like the Manga Ending as a whole epilogue.
I'd say I'm just not the target audience. I guess I forgot MHA was a classic shonen with power of friendship and all. Problem fixed and everyone's happy I guess ? It's cute on paper but I don't buy it. I think Hiroshima didn't realize how deeply philosophical his work would be. There're serious moral and ethic and politics themes showing that there is an obvious problem in the Hero Society and the only way to change it is to destroy the Hero Society. Not change it from the inside. Destroy it, the way they did in JJK when they killed the Zenin clan, the Higher Ups and Tengen. The ending seems nice, but it's very superficial, very idealistic. (Almost) Every villain is dead or dying but there's no major loss on the heroes' side ? All Might and Edgeshot are impossibly still alive ? They all go back to school after after the war, as if the public image of Heroes hasn't been shattered to pieces ? What the fuck is this nonsense ? It's not fair, it's not right.
There are entire arcs about the villains, their lives, and their convictions. I know more about Toga than I do about Jirou or Momo, and you're saying me the students win and live happily in the world they rebuilt ? The LOV members are still seen as awful monsters and their voice aren't shared with anyone anymore ? Don't get me wrong, I didn't want the league to win, but it would have been fair for them to manage to destroy something else than buildings.
It's an idealistic ending and I guess people need to believe we can change the world that way, so I'd let them that. You can like it, it was enjoyable, the same way the last chapter of JJK was. But personally, I don't thing that story should have led to that.
I don't really want to debate about it, like I said, I'm over MHA.
I'm not disappointed in JJK's ending because all I wanted was for this to end. I'm not disappointed with MHA either because I stopped having expectations a while ago. I think I like the JJK one better though.
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What would you say is the most interesting thing about Makorra's relationship development throughout the show?
Mine would be when Korra thinks about jumping off the cliff and killing herself after losing her "identity" as the Avatar. They do end up getting together & being torn apart in Book 2 (Bryke really hate happily ever afters if it isn't THEIR ship which just shows how pathetically childish they are & always will be)
Mako KNOWS Korra is absolutely broken after losing her bending but refuses to leave her 🥺
Korra tries to distance herself from him, thinking now that she's not The Avatar, he's better off without her. Which is very interesting as we see the consequences of her being raised & trained to be The Avatar since she was a baby.
Korra doesn't know who she is without her role as The Avatar, which is sad af even if it's understandable, given all we know about her backstory. Mako knows who she is without her role and is the most important character to Korra.
Mako's development could've been leagues better than what we got but unfortunately Bryke didn't have Elizabeth Welch to piggyback off of to make any of these characters really feel fleshed out. Hell, Asami could've easily been a villain turned hero which would've been a million times better than being basically a glorified background character that just so happens to be part of Team Avatar.
Anyways, I got carried away lol btw the Makorra Discord link is expired. Can you give a new link so all the Makorra survivors, myself included, can have a new place to call home?
First of all, this whole essay writing energy you've got going on? I LOVE IT. This is exactly the kind of passion we want over at the gc.
Second of all, that cliffside scene is a chef's kiss of a moment. I would blabber about it, but for brevity's sake, you can find my thoughts on the scene here.
Thirdly and finally, your question is a thinker. I find Makorra's relationship as a whole to be interesting- spelling out how and why requires a whole separate Tumblr post. (This is me saying you inspired me to write an essay. Give me 3-5 business days. Follow the account to get notified when it's up. )
P.S. If you need more incentive to join, "Asami should've been a villain" is a hot topic on the gc. So hot it turns up like three times a year.
#god I love when people ask about makorra#ask me its all I can talk about#I have horrible prioritization skills#makorra#makorra 2.0#makorra2.0
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btw just letting you know i just started following you, and honestly, in my perspective, the people that are into the amrev only hate the hamilton fandom people that dont separate the piece of art from actual history
lots of people in there (me included) love the songs and everything about it, just the part of the fandom that again, dont know how to diferenciate history from art interpretation
so dont worry about interacting with people from there, trust me, we all adore a good fanfic doesnt matter from who, you can trust me on that!
:)
p.s. imma start reading your fics (not now, 'cause i've got a pretty busy week ahead of me), but do you have any recomendation on which you'd think someone should start? thank youu <3
ooo yeah i can understand that!! i've been in the hamilton fandom for a while and there have definitely been... things and moments that can be kind of strange. trust, I've encountered a lot. it's important to remember that most of this is just for fun and not actually have any hero-worship or false ideologies spread and spoken as truth. that's the part that always gets me about hamilton hate is when people try to act like all of us take it as literal as some people do. it's a piece of fiction above all else. like no one is out here taking my fanfiction literally, so we shouldn't take lin's fanfiction literally either. i hope amrev/other fandoms i like know i'm not one of those types.
and thank you so much!! the fanfic ppl read the most from me is "the price of his war" series, but it's quite dark and has more than a few tws. if you ship lams (and want more historical-based depictions!!) bloom and punishable affections would be a great place! if you're more inclined to whump/angst though, my whumptober fic has a lot!! once again, thank you so much for being interested xoxo
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Hi! So this is looooonnng overdue but I'm just really shy and there's a couple things I wanna say so bear with me 😅
Firstly I wanna thank you and @danidrabbles for writing Triumvirate. It's of the best Javi P fics I've read and one of my favorite series ever. I cannot tell you how often I think about Javi, reader, and Katie like they're constantly on my mind, and as a bi-curious girlie let's just say this story made me have some realizations... 🤭 The way you guys write flows so naturally, the smut is so hot but the tenderness and angst are right on par. The characterizations and plot development are exquisite. I seriously can't wait for the next part(s) and for Javi and Katie to break a certain rule 👀 But also, bring on the heartbreak!!
Secondly, since you said you're open to requests, I'd die for another Javi one-shot like you did with Marks. Perhaps something with a secret workplace romance vibe where reader is also in the DEA? Or something in the TEU (that's Triumvirate Extended Universe) like the night Javi used handcuffs on the reader? Or whatever you want honestly anything you come up with is bound to be 😙🤌
Thirdly I just wanna say I love your blog and your tags in particular; I can almost always tell when a reblog is yours just from the tags lol. You were the first blog I followed in the Pedro fandom iirc because of the JPHM gifs (iconic btw) and I'm so glad I did :)
P.S. Your love for all things western is so endearing considering you're not American haha but you should listen to the song Wild West Hero by ELO I think it's very much your vibe
Okay that's all for now 😌💋
hi!!!!!!! thank you so so much for sending this, it literally made my day!!!!!
triumvirate is so important to me, you have no idea, because i started writing it around the same time i was finally willing to admit to myself that i'm bi, and it actually started out as this hungover idea that quickly evolved into so much more, mostly thanks to dani @danidrabbles. we're currently working on the next part but i think it's still gonna take some time. but i'm screaming about you saying it made you have some realizations!!! it sounds like a true reader-insert moment for you 🤭
i would love to write another javi one-shot because he's one of my favorite characters to write for!!! i'm either gonna make it a stand-alone one-shot or something that's part of the TEU (i'm obsessed with that abbreviation btw i'm gonna use it all the time from now on)!! so i will definitely keep the office romance and/or the handcuffs in mind 👀 i'm currently in the middle of writing a multi-chapter joel story though, so it might take me some time to get to the javi fic (however, i can promise you if you enjoyed triumvirate you will also enjoy the joel fic very much, it's also about how to navigate complicated relationships)
i love that you can recognize my blog from the tags alone, that's really funny!!! but wow jphm was such a long time ago 👀
thank you for the song rec, i will definitely listen to it!!! and being into westerns when you're not from the US is so hard 😔 like i'd love to buy some good cowboy boots and a nice hat but no ...... guess i'll have to wait until i make it to either the US or canada one day ....
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Hello there! I just saw your blog and read through your readings, and I love how you interpret them. Congrats btw on 300+ followers :)) I'd like to give the "release+retain game" a try. Idk have a favorite song at the moment, and I would prefer if you use tarot cards, but feel free to use whatever calls you. P.S. Really sorry if I didn't do this right. 🍀
hello! here’s what i got for you :)
deck: cirque du tarot by leeza robertson
cards: king of wands reversed and four of pentacles
release - king of wands reversed
the king of wands reversed points toward feelings of powerlessness, weakness, and maybe even arrogance. to me this card is telling you that you should let go of these feelings when they arise for you, take a step back and evaluate why you’re feeling these emotions. lift others up when you’re feeling down, kindness radiates from person to person!
retain - four of pentacles
the four of pentacles represents stability and accumulation in the sense of finances! this is saying that you’re coming into an episode of financial stability and growth! develop healthy spending habits, but don’t feel like you have to be frugal with your money.
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full thoughts post season (not all positive and also spoilers)
S2 felt much stronger than S1 overall -- mainly for the reasons I listed above. It was much freer in what characters get to interact and I think that the plot was fairly efficient at getting things done. I also loved the performances and the songs in the second half of the season! They were all so fun and high energy! Cecily's 11 o'clock was a season high for me and it was such a sweet moment. I could really go on for hours about everything I loved. The sets. The costumes. The chandelier drop. The songs were so good! So much to praise!
The finale was a bit of a let down though. It contradicted it's own themes of happiness and misses the mark of why Schmicago's musicals were as dark as they were. Historically, they're from an era of confusion and protest that rejected American post-war golden age narratives.
Hair is staunchly anti-capitalist and anti-war; JCS is built around revolution and breaking down the barrier between god and man; Chicago and Cabaret explore how decadence and immorality can come hand in hand; Sweeney Todd and Pippin's plots hinge on the cyclical nature of violence. You get the picture. They all address themes of deep personal and worldly unhappiness and ask the audience to reflect too.
Schmicago best addresses this in episode 4 during a conversation between Melissa and Josh. They got married, moved out to the suburbs, followed the blueprint - so why aren't they happy? It's a subtle performance from Cecily and Keegan that broke my heart. And I loved it! It makes sense for Schmicago to challenge Schmigadoon, and by proxy, Melissa and Josh's relationship.
The finale song, "A Happy Beginning", is the literal thesis of the season (great song btw). Happy endings don't exist, things don't work out the way you thought, but you still go on to the next day. You define happiness, not the other way around.
So, when the show frames a baby, not their individual goals, as the happy ending of the show? It's confusing! It deflates Melissa and Josh's arcs. What about their personal desires? Melissa's love of performance and Josh's mentoring? A child can be a happy and desirable goal, but the season spends little time showing this (even with a show full of orphans!). It's hardly established that either of them have a genuine longing for children, at least no more than they wanted a house in the suburbs.
This feels similar to the issues I had with S1's finale. Schmigadoon followed tropes of the musical without question, even if the series emphasizes different values earlier. Josh and Melissa don't find each other in a grounded way, instead having a (admittedly sweet) grandiose reunion. Its unearned and counters the show's theme of small moments and actions defining relationships. The central issue in their relationship was masking poor communication with grand gesture and distraction. Similarly, the conflict of season 2 is not lacking a baby, it's a deeper feeling of dissatisfaction and the pressure to be happy in an unfair world. Does the finale really resolve this?
P.S. still love this show and it's gonna ruin my spotify wrapped cinco paul please don't get mad i only criticize bc i love this little show
okay i know its early but s2 schmigadoon is feeling much better than s1!
my main issue w/ s1 was really wrapped up in josh and mel and how little their chemistry was actually shown -- creating sort of weak subplots since they relied on that relationship and tension! but now we have a josh and melissa who obviously care about each other and have grown! josh can interact with the plot in a more interesting way than just rolling his eyes! melissa has a true personal motivation! i care about them a lot more this time and feel like i'm rooting for them in a way that was missing during s1. i was kinda just team ariana debose.
and everyone is used so, so well. jane krakowski is rolling in solos, kristen chenowith gets a cockney accent, and dove cameron is off doing chair tricks! everyone gets something fun and cool and is put in different dynamics that really help to showcase them as performers. love love love aaron tveit who can do no wrong. plus having keegan and cecily paired together lets them show off more of their comedic strengths and like they're not just talking to camera.
also fun to reverse their main partners! who knew that keegan and aaron could have such good chemistry or that cecily would play so well off of dove.
the plot is tighter, the characters are more dynamic, and the songs are just as good. maybe even better! honestly i went in with low expectations but i have pretty high hopes for the rest of the season! i know there will be some more fun numbers and other characters to get in to, and maaaybe the plot won't be as cut and dry as we think. maybe. even if it's not i will have a damn good time watching schmicago
#i have MANY thoughts on this show#but they are just my little. my little thoughts! if you feel differently i support u#if u ever want to like. get into how this race addresses race and gender OH my god do i have like. thoughts. not gonna get into them but oh#its so odd to me that the song's meaning completely counters the ending??? whattt#also ignoring the. rather odd ideas of only building a family through pregnancy#person on reddit struggling w infertility i see u and i agree w u#and okay it is like. this era of musicals was ABOUT rejecting heternormative family structures so its a little. a little odd! to embrace i#schmigadoon
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Okokok hear me out !!
Brian (fast food nation) being a perv , stalking popular reader’s socials and jacking off to her bikini pics 👀 👀 maybe he accidentally likes one 😭😭😭
i love this idea so much...
Weirdo- Brian Wilcox x Fem Reader [part 1]
warnings: male masturbation, pervy brian, facebook
notes: i'm making a part 2 to this right now!!!!!!!! p.s. this isnt proof read (surprise!)
part 2!
Brian sat down at his desk and signed into his Facebook- just like any other day. He scrolled through his home page, commenting stupid things on his friends’ posts, and liking his mum’s new profile picture. That was when an idea popped into his head, he would search your name.
When he found you, he couldn’t believe his eyes. He had never gotten over how beautiful you are, you caught his eye when he first saw you at school, then Mickeys when you came with your friends. He wanted to introduce himself or something but your bitch of a friend Angela came to order instead.
He clicked on a picture of you with a boy, he got jealous for a moment before realising it was a family member of yours- or at least you had the same last name as him. Then he found a picture of you that Angela had posted, you looked so gone. Your eyes screwed shut, a giant smile on your face whilst holding up a bottle of wine.
Then he saw it. A picture of you on the beach with a skimpy bikini, fuck your body was so beautiful. He loved the way your ass looked there. Suddenly, he felt quite flustered, then he felt it.
Shit. He was hard.
He told himself he’d go look for some porn or something to get off to instead, maybe one of the copies of Playboy he had hidden under his bed. But it wouldn’t be the same. It wouldn’t be you.
Feeling quite ashamed, he pulled down his black joggers, along with his boxers, and grabbed the box of tissues next to his bed. He took his cock into his hand and began to pump himself into his fist, groans of “fuck!” and “y/n” fell from his mouth as he threw his head back, imagining you were the one touching him, taking him into your mouth, or between your tits, he just wanted you.
He imagined the places he would fuck you- consentually. It included the staff bathroom at Mickeys, his car, his bed, his kitchen, classrooms at school, the beach you were at with the bikini, anywhere.
When he realised he was getting close, he brought himself to look at your picture again, trying to zoom in on your ass, or your tits, or your thighs, or your smile- shit. His hand slipped. He pressed the ‘like’ button. Just as this panic had arisen, he came all over himself, forgetting to take any tissues out of the box.
“FUCK!”
* * *
Later, when he decided to log back on to his Facebook he saw he had a message, it was from… you.
He was frightened for a moment, wondering if you had some way of seeing him through his computer, or if you secretly installed cameras in his room, or if you were hiding in his room somewhere. He was so creeped out.
He clicked on your name where it came up with his messages, worried he had creeped you out. When he read it, he wasn’t sure what to think at first, then he read it again. And again. And again.
‘Hey weirdo :P’ you wrote
What should he say back? He was literally sweating as his hands hovered on top of his keyboard, he didn’t want you to think he was weird, but he knew he already failed at that. Shit.
‘Hey gorgeous’ would make him sound like some kind of pedo, especially after accidentaly liking a bikini pic- FUCK. he forgot to unlike it.
In the end, he settled with a ‘Hiii :)’, maybe you would think he was too enthusiastic? Yet again, he had just gotten off to one of your pictures.
‘Like what u saw? ;)’ you replied almost in an instant.
‘What?’
‘I have plenty more btw…’
‘I dont know what u mean?’
‘Cmon Brian. I saw. You liked it. Dont play stupid.’
‘Fuck’ he replied, followed by ‘It was my friend’
‘Whtvr u say weirdo’
‘U r the weirdo’
‘What?’
‘Messaging me? What did u want out of this?’
You took a while to reply to this, he sat staring at his screen in anticipation
‘Why me?’
‘What?’
‘Out of all of us. My friends. They’re so much prettier. So why me?’
He couldn’t believe what he was reading, there’s no way in a million years he would ever find your friends attractive in the slightest. Then another message from you popped up,
‘Pls Brian. Be honest’
‘i think ur beautiful. Ur friends are assholes. They r not attractive either so don’t think for a minute u r uglier than them.’ he worded that wrong, he thought to himself.
‘Awhh’ you replied, ‘i rly like u Brian. When i see u at school i wish we could be friends. U seem so cool.’
Brian would be lying if he said he wasn’t flattered by this.
‘I’m working 2nite its gonna b boring. Come 2 Mickeys. 8pm’
‘See u there :)’
What the fuck just happened to him.
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— them with a high-energy s/o
CW: NONE APPLICABLE.
“Would you be willing to write for female characters? If so, can i have Kokomi and Ayaka with a high energy s/o? Btw your writing is really good!”
💌 @dragonqueenofice
went with the leading four 5-star inazuma ladies for this one <3333
characters featured: ayaka, yoimiya, baal, kokomi
kamisato ayaka ✧˖*࿐
she’s so mellow and patient she would kinda just roll with your flow. it’s the dead of night but you wanna climb down to the beaches of her estate and collect seashells? give her a second to fix her hair and she’ll be outside
when ayaka first saw the message her attendant handed to her, she knew exactly who sent it.
“the beach, midnight, bring the biggest bag you can- we’re seashell gathering!” the message reads, “P.S.- don’t worry about your guards catching us. i’ve caught on to their friday night drinking habits! ;)”
ayaka chuckles to herself and folds the letter neatly.
“my lady? what were the contents of such a message?” her attendant asks.
ayaka shakes her head. “could you please prepare me a large bag and a coat on my dresser before i go to bed tonight?” she requests.
“of course, my lady,” the attendant replies with a bow, “are you going somewhere? i can ask a guard to escort you?”
“that’s a secret to be kept between me and the sender of this letter,” she says with a smile.
yoimiya ✧˖*࿐
you guys are both super enthusiastic and only feed off of each other i pity any tired person around you
but nevertheless, this leads to loads of fun all the time
“[Y/N]! [Y/N]!” yoimiya squeals, “c’mon, the fireworks show is about to begin!”
“aw, but just one more round of darts!” you protest, “if i pop that gold balloon, i win that big tanuki plushie for you!”
“it’ll be there after the show!” she counters, gripping your hand, “let’s go! i have a special spot!”
with a tug, yoimiya runs up the hill of the festival venue, your kitsune mask nearly flying off your head. she runs almost too quickly for the average human, but the speed and her enthusiasm rips fits of laughter out of you as you follow your girlfriend uphill. she stops under the tree at the crest of the hill and places her hands on her hips.
“sit down, [Y/N], this is the best seat in the house!” she proclaims proudly, watching as you do as told.
“you better join me,” you tease, grabbing her hand and yanking her down so that you can lean your head on her shoulder. she wraps her arms around your head to hold you still as she places a kiss to the crown of your head.
“keep your eyes peeled, [Y/N],” yoimiya advises, “i was careful to pack extra fireworks in your favorite color.”
baal ✧˖*࿐
poor baal
it’s hard to maintain an empire of tyranny when your needy energetic s/o wants cuddles constantly 🙄🙄🙄 just girly things ig
“baal, are you almost done?” you ask from your chair in her office.
“[Y/N], i still have to finish approving these permits,” she grumbles, completing another one with a swift stroke of her brush and setting it aside. an entire stack still awaits her acknowledgment.
“aw… but i’m so needy, baal,” you coo, putting your jaw in your hands and glancing at the floor, watching your feet shuffle, “c’mon, the almighty shogun can’t take a break to give her beloved a kiss?”
“i’ll give you plenty of kisses once we go to bed,” she promises, albeit somewhat frustrated at your neediness, “but i am the ruler and that comes with more than its fair share of work.”
you stand and approach her, swinging one of your legs over her legs and sitting on her lap, her face just inches from yours. she glances up, a storm of anger brewing in her violet eyes, meeting your dopey grin. you peck a kiss to the tip of her nose and chuckle to yourself. the woman sighs and presses her lips to yours for a moment before pulling back, her expression as stony as before.
“now move,” she says, despite a dust of pink across the high points of her cheeks, “that stunt you pulled must’ve put me two documents behind schedule.”
sangonomiya kokomi ✧˖*࿐
like ayaka, she’s also pretty level-headed.
she also finds your childlike spirit absolutely adorable and has a wide variety of sweet names for you :)
“kokomi! kokomi!” you call, opening the door to the room where she drafts military plans, “while i was out exploring, i found so many sango pearls!”
the young woman glances up and smiles. “i love those!” she gasps, “i used to gather them all the time when i was little. i’m so grateful you like it here at watatsumi island, angel.”
you place your collection of pearls on her desk. “i love it here. it’s so colorful, it takes my breath away every time,” you sigh, “let’s go for a stroll! are you up for a break?”
kokomi weighs her options. “just a little one?”
you nod your head. “unless you wanna stay with me longer!”
kokomi giggles and stands. “as you wish, my love,” she weaves her delicate hand into yours and places a kiss to your cheek, “such a distraction… you truly are a challenge for my work ethic, but indeed a welcome one.”
#moonlit seas#genshin#genshin impact#genshin hcs#genshin headcanons#genshin impact hcs#genshin impact headcanons#inazuma#ayaka#kamisato ayaka#ayaka x reader#kamisato ayaka x reader#yoimiya#yoimiya x reader#baal#genshin baal#raiden shogun#baal x reader#kokomi#sangonomiya kokomi#kokomi x reader#sangonomiya kokomi x reader#genshin 2.0#genshin 2.1#genshin impact 2.0#genshin impact 2.1
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Who The Hell Taught You That Word? (for Jimin)... ((I guess Imma end up doing all the members lmao T-T))
warnings: language, kissing (just smoochies :))), mentions of... achem- Intercourse. Jimin's daughter sassing them lol ((I BEG- TRY TO COME UP WITH YOUR OWN IDEA and DON'T TAKE MINE? Please?))
PARK JIMIN!FEM READER (I promise I have gn stuff, you just gotta look T.T) Wc; 505
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I am in no way trying to portray the following idol negatively in any way whatsoever, tho I do think Mr. Park would make a wonderful dad. :)
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A/n: Ok, ok, the gif isn't mine, cuz... I dunno how to do that yet, BUT THE FIC IS ALL MINE. I got the title from a writing prompt site called 'Kpop Fic Prompts' and I'm not even joking... This is for Chim. I did one for Jk so CHECK IT OUT. Or don't... Idc. ToT I hope this doesn't offend anyone... I mean, it shouldn't, but... ya know... people, ig. (You're [_____], btw)
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"So you did miss me?" Jimin secured his arm around _____'s waist, grinnin' like a maniac.
"Of course I did. Who wouldn't miss the sexiest man to walk the Earth?" _____ smirked at his shy appearance, kissing his cheek.
"Nah," he blushed, nestling his face in her neck. "I don't deserve you, babygirl." Gosh, _____ loved seeing Jimin in this state. WEAK. Just for her.
"Heeheehee..." she giggled. She placed a sloppy, wet kiss on Jimin's forehead, leading him to respond with a similar one to her lips. And another one. And another one. And another... much longer one.
"Mmhm..." _____ cooed. She pushed her lips a bit deeper into his, sending the blood flying through Jimin's body. These moments were the ones he cherished more than any others. With his girl.
_____ cupped the side of his face with her hand, tilting her head at precisely the right angle to get the taste of his lips in full. Jimin slid his left hand up her shirt, using his right hand to draw little circles on her cheek. He parted her lips with his tongue, a tiny, but accidental gasp slipping through her lips. Jimin tried his best not to smile, but her red cheeks drove him over. He grinned a little on her lips, pulling her shirt over her head, and then reconnecting. This kiss was more passionate now... Spicier. Needier.
"What in the shit-" came a small voice. Startled, _____ pulled away, sliding her shirt back over her head.
"Who's th- Kbug?"
Don't laugh. Dooooon't laugh.
"Were you guys about to have sex?" Their daughter tilted her head innocently.
"Uh... Chim?" _____ turned to her husband.
"Uh-" Jimin stifled a snicker. "Baby, who the hell taught you that word?"
"Jimin..." _____ smacked her head.
"Which one?" she grinned.
"Both!" _____ actually seemed a bit irritated at this point.
"Ohhhh... Daddy taught me. Well, he didn't teach me, but I heard him say it a lot when you guys were wrestling on Sunday. Oh, wait..." she paused, thinking. "Were you guys having sex then?" Her giggle only echoed pure curiosity, as Jimin tried to hide his burning cheeks and fully erect... little brother.
"No, honey... We were- Uh... What did you call it?"
"Wrestling?" she giggled.
"Yeah... Yeah... Er, wrestling." _____ scratched the back of her neck, glancing toward Jimin. "And just where do you think you're going, sir?" He was halfway to the bathroom, cupping his crotch, clearly flustered.
"Heheh... I, uh- Gotta take care of something." and he was gone.
"When you guys first wrestled, did Daddy lose?" D/N whispered. _____ smirked. She thought about the first... match (lmaoooo), and how badly they wanted a kid. When she found out she was pregnant, Jimin was ecstatic, which also explains D/N and D/N's older brother, (who was out with friends:).
_____ picked up her daughter, sitting her on their bed.
"Well, kiddo- I think we both won."
hOpE yOu EnJoYeD!
P.S.
"Mom?"
"Yeah, kiddo?"
"Why did you wrestle with no clothes?"
"Jimin!" He scurried off. "Dude!"
"Heheh... I gotta take care of something else."
FIN!
#park jimin#jimin ff#bts x reader#jimin x reader#jimin x fem reader#bts army#jimin as a dad#bts scenarios#park jimin fanfic#jimin scenarios#park jimin bts
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