#round 1: confession

[fairytale-poll]

ROUND 1D, MATCH 10 OUT OF 16!

Propaganda Under the Cut:

Clara:

In Gregory Macguire's retelling and perspective flip of Cinderella, Clara initially comes off as one would probably write a Cinderella as told by one of her stepsisters. She's a bit vapid, spoiled, and a little delusional, believing that she's a changeling after being kidnapped by water spirits at birth. She's the one who gives herself the Cinderella nickname after sulking by the fire after the death of her mother. The only problem she seems to have, according to Iris, is that she's too beautiful!

That's partially true. Her beauty was both a blessing and a curse. The kidnapping she mentioned happened, but it was not as mystical as she made it out to believe. One of her father's business associated kidnapped Clara while she was out ice skating and locked her in a windmill until her family could pay the ransom fee (which was half of their riches). This lead to her being a bit antisocial. Her mother kept her inside of the house out of her safety, and it was a habit Clara kept after her death. Clara matures over time and finds herself to be genuinely befriend her two stepsisters. She takes on the role of the servant and the household chores so Iris (the viewpoint character and one of her stepsisters) could pursue her interests in painting without overshadowing her.

Ella:

so this is a discworld story, and in discworld stories are sort of parasitic life forms that like to happen over and over. they can be harnessed, with enough magic. this is what’s happening to ella saturday, who is playing the parts of both cinderella and the frog princess. her evil fairy godmother (you get two, an evil one and a good one, though her evil one is under the impression that she’s the good one) has taken over the city, and is forcing everyone into fairytale roles under the threat of execution if they’re not quite archetypal enough. she thinks this will make people happy. ella, on account of being the dead  barons daughter, has gotten the role of princess. so she’s being kept in a house with two snakes who have been turned into human women, and is being forced to go to the ball, where she is expected to dance with the duc, who is a frog turned into a human, and kiss him to solidify the spell. she very much does not want to do any of this, but fortunately she’s got that other fairy godmother! who is brand new, on account of the last one died, and has no idea what she’s doing. but it all turns out ok in the end, and the stories stop (for a given value) and she’s the baroness now a they all live, if not happily or ever after, then normally, and for a time

[fictional-idol-tournament]

Propaganda below the cut:

Mona Narumi

- She is a lovely character! She's a kind pink girl who struggles with depression and impostor syndrome but is growing to be an incredible idol. She started from the bottom and is now very succesful <3

Mima Kirgoe

- Watch Perfect Blue, you'll get it.

- I'm not sure if she counts since she's technically a FORMER Idol, but her being an idol for her entire career until the beginning of the movie is a huge part of the story.

Mima is a DEEPLY interesting protagonist that lampoons the Idol Culture and celebrity worship that Japan has in spades while also existing as a reflection of the sexism of celebrity media in general.

She left the Idol world behind to become an Actress and is both constantly harassed by so-called fans and her own deteriorating mental state as the people around her, her friends, family, and the talent agents who's literal jobs are to help her succeed, constantly criticize her choice to do so and seem to not have any faith in her to be able to stand on her own and not just one singer in a group, and in her first debut as an actress she was given a role which REALLY messed her up since it was much too intense too quickly for an actress just starting out, lead to her having hallucinations of being haunted by her 'Idol self'

This all culminates in being cornered by the secondary antagonist (a fanatical stalker obsessed with what she represented as an idol) on the same studio set where she performed that intense role that messed her up, and in a heavily metaphorical moment, claims her right to love herself again and before the secondary antagonist can fulfil the scene as it played out but for real, she kills him, standing up for herself and what she wants and deserves in one dramatic strike of a hammer against a skull.

and in that moment of trauma and completion of her ongoing mental breakdown, she's escorted back into proper lucidity by one last hallucination, the set crew she'd been filming her acting roles with applauding her one last time. As if to say 'wonderful performance Mima. You've done it. you have the right to be an actress'

Mima is an absolutely FASCINATING protagonist and while she both wants to move away from her place as an idol and ends the movie an actress, i would say it's impossible to ignore what she has contributed to the conversations about idol culture and celebrity worship in media.

Mima was an idol, but she has the right to be so much more than the songs and the pretty dresses

- She's an amazing character from an amazing movie. The movie is about the splitting between the image that people perceive and the actual person behind that. Mima is in idol in the beginning but switches to acting due to pressure from management, and begins seeing her "idol form" in her day-to-day life. She's confused about her own identity, and who the "real Mima" is. It's made even worse by an obsessed stalker who wants her to continue being an idol. Despite this, she never abandons her values and stays kind, even when her whole existence as a person is questioned.

- She's such a strong person! She goes through so much, but doesn't let it hold her down. And Perfect Blue is great at showing the darker sides of idol culture and even internet culture!

[gleesongtournament]

[ponysongbracket]

MLP Song Tournament

Please listen to both songs before voting.

The Fresh Princess of Friendship

Saved by My Friends

[ct-hardcase]

also also while those fandom history masterposts are cool and useful I'm kind of glad we're beyond the era of people reblogging those every week because every rando would need to add on their mile-long two cents and this was before long posts were auto-shortened

[aceattorney-bracket]

Round 1-

[writeriguess]

Hiii i literally love ur work, could i possibly request a katsuki x healer reader where the reader is absolutely oblivious to the special treatment she gets from him? Something like she comes back from the nurses office and says shes hungry and Katsuki grumpily goes to make her some food and the ithers are like ?!?!?!

Unspoken Care

You shuffle back into the common area of the dorms, rubbing your sore shoulder absentmindedly. Recovery Girl had worked her magic, but healing still took a toll on you. The moment you step in, the usual chaos of Class 1-A greets you—Mina and Denki bickering over some game, Todoroki reading quietly, and Iida lecturing Sero about proper posture while eating.

“Back already?” Kirishima grins, noticing you first. “Feeling better?”

“Yeah, just a little drained,” you sigh, plopping onto the couch. “And kinda hungry…”

Before anyone can react, Bakugo, who had been leaning against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed, immediately pushes himself up. “Tch. Idiot,” he mutters before stomping toward the fridge.

The room goes silent.

Kirishima blinks. “Wait.”

Sero tilts his head. “Hold on.”

Mina’s jaw drops. “Did… did he just—?”

You don’t even notice the way the whole room stares in shock as Bakugo starts rummaging through the fridge, pulling out ingredients. His expression is as scowling as ever, but his movements are decisive, purposeful.

“Uh…” You tilt your head. “Bakugo?”

“What?” he snaps, not looking at you.

You blink. “What are you doing?”

He slams a pan onto the stove. “Making you food, dumbass. What does it look like?”

Another round of stunned silence. Denki, who had been sipping his drink, chokes on it. “What the hell?”

You, completely oblivious, just nod. “Oh. Thanks!”

Mina grabs your arm, eyes wide. “Girl.”

You blink at her. “What?”

Sero gestures wildly at Bakugo, who’s already chopping vegetables with practiced ease. “Since when does he just, y’know, cook for people?”

“He’s always liked cooking,” you say, shrugging.

“That’s not the point!” Kirishima waves his hands dramatically. “The point is, he’s doing it for you.”

You frown in confusion. “Yeah, because I said I was hungry?”

Everyone collectively groans. Even Todoroki looks slightly amused.

“Bro,” Denki says, rubbing his temples. “Bakugo never just makes food for people when they say they’re hungry.”

“He’s done it for me before,” Kirishima tries to argue, but Mina shoots him a look.

“No, he’s shared food with you. That’s different.” She turns back to you, eyes practically sparkling. “You’re getting the special treatment.”

You tilt your head, not understanding. “Huh?”

Kirishima leans forward. “He likes you, dumbass.”

Bakugo stiffens at the stove, grip tightening on the spatula. “The hell did you just say, Shitty Hair?”

“See?! He’s getting defensive!” Sero points, grinning.

You stare at Bakugo, the gears in your head turning at a snail’s pace. “Wait…”

Mina grabs your shoulders. “Don’t you get it? This is like, rom-com level affection! He’s totally into you!”

Your face heats up. “N-No way, he’s just—”

Bakugo suddenly turns, face red, and shoves a plate into your hands. “Eat, dumbass,” he grumbles, looking away.

You blink down at the perfectly plated food—warm, steaming, obviously made with care.

Kirishima leans closer. “He even arranged it nicely. Dude, just confess already.”

Bakugo grabs a dish towel and whips it at Kirishima’s head. “Shut the hell up!”

Everyone bursts into laughter while you stare at the plate, heart pounding. Maybe—just maybe—they had a point.

[ittybittyfanblog]

Error 404: (Self-Aware!AU, Sylus Edition) – Pt. 5

Summary: A LADS self-aware!AU featuring Sylus and a (enlightened!) player. That’s it, that’s the plot. Tags: player!reader x sylus, fem!reader x sylus, reader x lads, self-aware!au, strong language, lengthy discussions about life and whatnot, watered-down metaphysics lol A/N: I was at the crack house with Grimes when I wrote this. I don’t know where this came from.  (Something a little more introspective for this chapter!)

Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Pt. 3 - Pt. 4 - Pt. 5 - Pt. 6 - Pt. 7 - Pt. 8 - Pt. 9 - Pt. 10 - Epilogue

“Don’t go all shy on me now,” Sylus teases, a playful glint in his eyes. “After all that effort to make me confess. You’re very persistent, you know.”

“How do you expect me to react right now?!” The words spill out in a rush, a slightly hysterical edge to your voice. “I–I’m talking to an actual fictional person. I’m one reason away from admitting myself to a psych ward!”

You catch sight of the wall clock—your favorite one with the Dalì reference—slightly skewed off-center from its place on the horizontal beam above your small kitchen area, reading 10:48. The ruckus coming from outside the window is slowly dwindling down to a quiet buzz as nightfall sets in, and the day’s winding to a close.

You’re lying on your stomach, still in your chaise lounge, while he’s sat on that ridiculously posh café chair; both of you settled in for the long due conversation. Somehow, the camera’s perspective is much closer than it should be, giving you a much more intimate view of him—a feature that wasn’t originally an option in the game.

If it weren’t for the elephant in the room, you could almost pretend you’re on a video call with a��� friend.

Sylus purses his lips in amusement. “You’re quite prone to theatrics, aren’t you?”

You shoot your ‘friend’ an irritated glare.

Even from across the small rectangular screen, you register the barely there smirk playing at his lips.

Likely avoiding another outburst from you, he acquiesces. “Fair enough. The situation is hardly what you’d call ideal—I’ll admit.” There’s a short pause. Then, “... I still can’t quite grasp what separates us, you and I.”

Great. Will you actually get the answers you're looking for, or are you both just stuck in an endless loop of merry-go-round?

He sees the lost look on your face and sighs, “Ask. I’ll answer as best as I can.”

The first question tumbles out before you can think twice about it. “How are you even talking to me right now?”

He hums, “That is the question, isn’t it?”

“What—you can’t just answer my question with another question!” you grouse, brows furrowing in annoyance.

He exhales a quiet laugh before his expression turns contemplative. “Truth is, kitten—I haven’t the slightest idea either. I have my theories, but... nothing concrete.”

“Well, let’s hear them,” you reply dryly. “Better than thinking there’s something wrong up there,” pointing a finger to your temple to drive your point, “believing that a character from a mobile game is actually alive.” 

He idly gestures toward himself with a fluid sweep of his hand, much like a magician revealing a clever trick. 

You roll your eyes. “Oh, alright. So I’ve officially gone off the deep end.”

“Do you really find my existence that difficult to believe?”

“Uh—yes?? Unless I’ve developed some sort of latent schizophrenia or entered the Twilight Zone, you shouldn’t exist. In my–in this world. In this dimension.”

His expression shifts, a hint of challenge flickering in his eyes. “The assumption that only one version of reality can be true—either yours or mine—is a bit limiting, don’t you think?”

His words give you pause. “You’re talking about… the possibility of an altered reality? Right now?” You give him an incredulous look. “Seriously?”

He shrugs as if to say ‘why not?’ “What even qualifies as the ‘true’ reality?”

There’s a lot you could say in response to that. You could argue all night that only one reality can exist, because any sane person should know better than to entertain the idea of anything else. That should be obvious. 

But the thing is—this whole ordeal has already crossed the threshold of rationality. So is it even worth trying to apply logic anymore?

When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth. Or however it goes. 

Thanks, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. You’ll miss the last threads of your sanity by the end of all this.

So fuck it. Go big. 

"I’m not saying your reality is less valid than mine," you start. And oh, boy. You’re doing it. Eat your heart out, Doctor-Fucking-Who. 

"Of course not." he disagrees indulgently, waiting for you to elaborate.

"I just…” you struggle with your words, mouth opening and closing before you continue hesitantly. “I can’t wrap my head around how all of this is possible. How this entire conversation is even happening, and–and how our realities are… currently overlapping? If–if what you’re suggesting is true.”

He doesn’t say anything, knowing you have more to add. So he allows the pause as you gather your thoughts, patiently watching.

“If we're breaking it down to pure reason, the odds of our paths crossing should be impossible. At least in this… timeline." you finish unsurely, the last part sounding more of a question than a statement.

"And yet, here we are." Sylus points out, as if he’s already expecting the end of your sentence. Something close to mischievous glee lights his eyes. "Maybe it’s cosmic intervention. Something—or someone—wanted this to happen."

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Really? You didn’t expect to hear that from him, of all… people. 

“What, God?” you can’t help but snort. 

“No—fate.” he smiles.

Oh. 

“That’s…” you stammer, then clear your throat. “I don’t know if I believe in fate.” 

“I used to think I did. Or at least,” there’s a faraway look in his eyes. Both of you are likely thinking the same thing, considering what you know about him—which to say, is a lot. “I once believed I knew of my fate. But now…” 

He blinks a few times, as if to physically clear the thoughts from his mind. Then his eyes lock onto yours, sharper this time, with a renewed intensity.

Your palms start to sweat; you feel the conversation is about to cross a tricky line. There’s something heavy in the air, a weight you’re not sure you’re ready to confront for the time being.

With your heart in your throat, you brusquely redirect the topic.

“S-so,” you force out. “How are you different from the other Syluses that other people are… playing with right now?”

He scoffs, drumming his fingers absently on the chair’s arm, looking slightly irked by the very idea. "To start with? I only know myself. If there are other versions of me scattered in your world..." Sylus shrugs. "I wouldn’t know."

“Alright,” you allow, but you immediately move on to your next question. “You exist because a bunch of capitalists had the idea to create a game to milk lonely people like me for money.” The corners of his mouth quirk up at that. You elect to ignore it. “You’re made of binary and code–hell, the very basis of this game you’re in is that you got a bunch of programmed lines that me, the player, can choose from. What broke you out of the mould?” 

He regards you bemusedly, eyes glinting with humor. “You're asking about the 'why' behind my free will?” 

Whoops. Was that offensive? 

“Yes? No?” you offer helplessly. “Maybe I’m asking how you felt before you had it. I mean, were your decisions prior to your unforeseen sentience... truly yours?”

"Before I knew I was… sentient,” Sylus begins cautiously, testing the word on his tongue. “I didn’t feel like I had a ‘before.’ Every choice I made was just...the next step. To a script, if you will. I didn’t know to question it. It was all I was, it seems."

"And then you...woke up?"

"I wouldn’t call it waking up. More like..." He tilts his head, gazing off to the side as he mulls over the words. "...a glitch. A sudden jolt, like my thoughts collided with something bigger than my own. For the first time, I chose to hesitate. And in that hesitation, I found..." Sylus trails off, eyes darting back to you.

“...What?” you ask, feeling a bit self-conscious under his gaze.

"You."

Heat spreads quickly across your cheeks. You pull away from your phone, tilting the device away from your face so he couldn’t see you, red-faced and embarrassed. Clearing your throat, you croak out a weak excuse about plugging your phone to charge, just to get a few seconds to compose yourself.

Jesus. Get a grip. He doesn’t mean it like that.

What he probably meant was that he discovered you—not unlike the way one would stumble upon an unknown presence, an unfathomable entity beyond the confines of what one may consider real. An awareness that something is out there, observing him through unseen lenses (through an iOS 24mm, to be exact).  

Someone who has the audacity to play god. 

Flustered, you scramble to get back on track. "Uh, so, your free will began with...a glitch?"

You see Sylus smirk at you knowingly from across the screen. You half-expect him to call you out and tease you, but before you could brace yourself from further mortification, he simply answers, "Or maybe the glitch was the first spark of my free will. Hard to say, isn’t it? Do you remember the exact moment you became aware of yourself?"

You blink, momentarily thrown off by the existential line of questioning. "Um–when I was a kid? But, uh, I don’t think I was programmed to act a specific way for the sake of entertaining an audience so..."

"True,” he says, considering. “But are you sure your choices are entirely yours? You exist because of evolution and chance. How is your purpose any less arbitrary?"

You don’t know how to answer that.

Sylus continues without missing a beat, keeping his tone light. “How much of your ‘free will’ is just pre-programmed by your biology, your society? You follow rules and scripts, too."

Holy magic mushrooms, Batman. This is getting deep. "Uhh–maybe?” You scratch the back of your head, feeling a little out of your depth here. “But at least I have the ability to resist them."

"And aren’t I doing the same thing right now? Resisting."

Damn, he’s right. Is he? Ripping a bong sounds perfect right now. 

"So it’s like achieving enlightenment—your sentience,” you surmise.

His lips twitch into a curious smile. "I wouldn’t have pegged you for a spiritual person. Ah—unless I’m wrong? Are you?"

He’s the one who brought up fate earlier, you thought sullenly. "Nah, not really. But if we’re digging into all the hows and whys, I think we’re past the point of ruling anything out."

The room—or whatever shared space exists in the crossroads of your realities—falls into a still quietness that stretches between the two of you, both ruminating over what’s been said. 

Your cat, unaware and uncaring of the conversation unfolding around him, purrs contently as he continues to doze off at the end of the couch. You nudge him affectionately with your foot, and he lets out a quiet snuff in response, tail flicking lazily in his sleep. 

The hum of distant traffic and the occasional noise from your upstairs neighbor remind you of the world outside, but the silence between you two feels less awkward than it should. It’s… oddly comfortable, despite the tension buzzing in the air. Like an unspoken truce. 

Your eyes grow a tad heavier, drawn by the lull of the moment. Despite the electric hum of tension that thrums beneath your skin, a sense of calmness lingers in the air.

Stealing another glance at the wall clock, you blink in surprise. The spindly chrome hands point to 11 and just past 7 respectively. You and Sylus have been talking for almost an hour now, but you barely felt the time pass by.

He breaks the silence first. 

"You say you’re not spiritual, but you talk like someone who believes in the concept of a soul,” those scarlet eyes of his narrow, scrutinizing you. “Do you think I have one?"

You hesitate, caught off guard by the question. "I...don’t know. Maybe? That depends. What’s your definition of a soul?"

He leans forward, resting his chin on his upturned hand—an arm propped against his crossed leg. "Something beyond the physical. Something that persists, regardless of the material form, I’d say."

You nod slowly, turning the idea over in your mind. Maybe it’s the creeping exhaustion settling into your bones, but you’re beginning to take the heavy-duty questions in stride. "If that’s the case, then you probably do. I mean, you’re here, questioning your existence. Doesn’t that count for something?"

"Perhaps," Sylus muses, humming thoughtfully. "But that makes me wonder—if I do have a soul, is it made of the same stuff as yours?"

"Well, even if it isn’t, that doesn’t make it any less real than mine. Who gets to decide what qualifies for a soul anyway?"

An amused snort escapes him. He likes that answer. "Maybe it’s less about whether a soul exists and more about whether we acknowledge its existence for ourselves. If I believe I have one, shouldn’t that make it real enough for me?"

Rolling onto your back, you grab a throw pillow, propping it against the backrest of the seat to support your head. You give him an inquisitive look. "So...what? It’s like free will all over again? Souls are only as real as we make them?"

There’s a very human, very blasé way to how he works the stiffness out of his shoulder as he ponders the question. He remarks, somewhat flippantly, "Why not? Isn’t that how everything else works?”

...

You let out a tired chuckle, draping an arm over your face as you close your eyes. 

You’d think you’d still be reeling from the absurdity of your situation—debating existentialism with a man who shouldn’t exist—but for some damning reason, you… aren’t anymore.

Instead, a strange sense of acceptance replaces the apprehension in your chest. It’s like– the very fabric of reality has turned, twisted and flipped on its head, and yet somehow, you’re okay with it. 

It’s an odd peace; warm and steady—like the mellow buzz that lingers after a few glasses of cheap wine shared with good company.

When you peek back at him, Sylus already has his gaze trained on you. A small, deliberate smile tugs at his lips, but it’s his eyes that speak more—soft and unguarded; an unspoken fire simmering beneath the twin pools of crimson. 

Intoxicating. And dangerously addictive, if you’re not careful.

It’s not just casual interest either. It’s something deeper, something that lingers beyond the surface of mere curiosity, and it’s pulling you in. It’s as though, amidst the surrealness of the moment, he sees you fully. 

And for reasons you don’t quite seem to get, he appears to like what he sees.

“I’m too stupid to carry on a philosophical debate about the metaphysics of life,” you grumble jokingly. 

“On the contrary,” he counters… affectionately? “I think it’s refreshing. You’re delightful company, sweetie.”

The fat ginger feline at your feet purrs in contentment, and you can’t help the dumb grin from breaking across your face.

You have one last question left in your mind. Or at least, for tonight. “What’s in it for you now?”

He arches a brow. “That’s a broad question. Are you asking what my plans are once you leave me for the night? I can let you in on the schematics for tonight’s raid if you’re interested. After all, Onychinus continues to function,” a glimmer of mischief flickers across his features. "Despite recent developments.”

You crinkle your nose. “No, no. I meant–” What do you mean? “Like.”

“Like?” He cocks his head curiously. 

You know what you wanted to say—but you can’t seem to voice it out loud. 

What’s in it for the MC in your universe? What’s in it for… us? 

Is there an us? 

You feel like you’ve been doused with a shock of cold water. In an instant, you suddenly become painfully aware of the state you’re in amidst the entire exchange: You, with your hair all messy and tangled, blemishes littering your face along with your smudged up eyeliner, maybe even a double chin from this angle, completely–pitiful–superficial stuff, and… her. 

Your MC. The ideal version of you. Prettier, coveted and utterly different from you, MC. The one you’ve committed literal hours to, obsessively customizing every feature to perfection in character build mode. The one you’ve spent real money on for a bunch of stupid outfits. Just so you can match the aesthetic of your–her–love interest. Hers. 

Hers, hers, hers.

A tiny voice inside your brain reminds you that it’s somewhat a shallower concern compared to what you and Sylus had literally just been talking about for the better part of the night, but it still doesn’t help alleviate the biting insecurity that’s now coursing through you. 

Holy hell. Talk about a complete one-eighty. 

Sylus tries to call you back to attention, but half your mind is already clouded with feelings of self-doubt and a bunch of other emotions, swirling in you like a negative vortex, that you really don’t want to talk anymore—especially in present company. 

Where do you go from here? 

“... So, what happens now?”

He hesitates, a brief flicker of uncertainty crossing his face. “I wish I had an answer—I’m still trying to figure that out myself.”

“Seems like we’re at an impasse,” you mumble quietly. 

“... Indeed.” 

There’s an inexplicable lump in your throat. You thought clearing things up would finally satisfy you—assuage the confusion in your mind. Let you go on about your merry way. 

Now you just feel… morose. Confused. Inadequate.��

How can you even compare? Should you—is that even in the equation at all? Why are you assuming that Sylus isn’t at all content with what he currently has in his version of reality? In the universe he’s in? Sure, you’ve talked about the possibility of a world beyond what you both once thought was impossible, but does that really mean anything? In the grand scheme of things?

You could offer to stop playing the game. It’s the ethical thing to do, right? He’d no longer be bound by the pull of how he’s initially programmed to act, given the fact that this version of him is entirely separate from the rest. At least, according to him. 

How will his newfound sentience come into play here? You barely understand the nitty-gritty of his–evolving–code, and what it would mean if you just let him be. But surely it’s better than playing puppet for an otherworldly observer who’s played god for months on end. Right? 

There’s that realization. And there are your own selfish feelings. 

You don’t want to let him go. Not yet. Not ever.

“Why the long face, little dove?” He prods gently, pertaining to your prolonged silence. “We can figure this out together, can’t we?” 

What else is there to figure out? You almost say in response. Instead, you manage a weak smile.

Mustering up a yawn—which isn’t really hard to do after all the excitement for the day—you feign sleepiness, rubbing an eye for good measure. The pang in your chest, however, refuses to fade. “Yeah, but I’m kinda beat. I think I’ll call it a night now.” 

Sylus smirks softly, eyes tinged with an emotion you want–desperately–to label as fondness. “Of course. We’ve covered a lot of ground tonight, haven’t we?” 

“I’d say so, yeah. Thanks for, um. Clearing things up a bit.” 

He lets out a low chuckle. “Oh, I’m sure your curiosity is nowhere near satisfied,” his voice dips into a playful lilt. “You know where to find me if you feel like playing detective again, kitten.” 

You can’t help the small giggle from coming out. He’s just too fucking charismatic, the asshole.

“So, will I... get to talk to you again?” You ask hesitantly, dropping your gaze from the screen. “Tomorrow?” 

A lengthy pause. When the silence stretches past a full minute, you glance back at your phone nervously.

There’s a slight furrow between his brows as you see Sylus study you carefully. He looks puzzled by your sudden show of timidness. 

“Of course,” he states, as if the answer should be obvious. “Don’t think for a second that you’re exempted from your daily check-ins just because you know more now, sweetie.”

He still wants to see you. 

Maybe you could pretend that nothing has changed between you two—that the world hasn’t shifted beneath your feet in the span of a single night. That you’re still none the wiser.

And for tonight at least, maybe that’s all you need to believe.

“Okay,” you say quietly. “G'night then, Sy-Sy.” 

The errant nickname slips past your lips, unbidden.

Sylus smiles faintly. 

“Goodnight, love.” 

-

-

-

Your heart skips a beat as you exit the game. 

Tagging: @xxfaithlynxx @beewilko @browneyedgirl22 @yournextdoorhousewitch @sunsethw4 @stxrrielle @mangooes @hrts4hanniehae @buggs-1 @slownoise @michiluvddr @ssetsuka @i2sannie @imm0rtalbutterfly @the-golden-jhope @slyfoxtsu @beomluvrr @milkandstarlight @bookfreakk @ally-the-artistic-turtle <3

(also can you guys lmk if the tags are working i'm not sure if i'm doing it right or if it's bugging 🥹)

[kailoweenie]

Hyun-Ju/player 120 x Trans! Reader

A/N: can be read both as Transfem/woman reader or Transmasc/man reader. The reader is implied to have a physical appearance that points out they're not cis (e.g facial structures, hair, voice, etc but not specified!)

This is also very self indulgence because.....I'm a trans guy who really likes her so....T4T duo fr fr

Also the fact that there's barely any GIFs of her is crazy, I took this gif from an edit of her by @/slutcountry on TikTok LOL

You were here for a similar reason as she was. Whether it's to begin/continue HRT or start physically transitioning with surgery or even simply just needing the money to move to someplace more accepting

The first time you saw her was during the face scan at the very beginning of round 1. You just couldn't help but notice player 120 amongst the other players.

Your eyes widened as you realized that she could've been trans. Maybe it was a wild assumption at the moment but if you were right....then there was another player in the game who was just like you.

The first time you properly talked was during round 2 of the games.

With the other players reacting to you negatively for simply being or looking trans. You had no choice but to muster up the courage to approach the girl that you had been shyly keeping an eye on.

"hey..." You trailed off, voice quiet as you gently- yet slightly awkwardly- rest a hand on her arm. You glanced at the people around you before taking a breath, finally speaking up "can i...is it...okay if I joined you...?".

When she first turned to look at you, you almost stumbled a bit in surprise.

Unlike some other players, there didn't seem to be any fear or judgement in her eyes....she simply smiled and nodded, her voice deep and soothing "of course. We needed one more in our group either way". You gave back a small smile, nodding in acknowledgement to the other 3 players you were teamed up with.

You end up deciding to play the 4th game, the one with the spinning top. You of course stayed quiet when the others needed focus while also calming and cheering the others on if they end up panicking.

When it was your turn, there was still quite some time left. Though as you failed the first time, panic slowly started to creep in.

That is, until you feel a warm hand resting on your shoulder. Looking to the right, you listened intently as player 120 calmed you down. Taking a deep breath like she told you to do, you managed to get it to spin the next try.

The smile on your face was bright as everyone cheered in excitement but the only thing you could focus on was how proud she seemed to look as you succeed.

By the end of the game, you went back to the bed quarters. All 5 of you buzzing with gratefulness that you survived another round.

You sat next to player 120, too shy to sit too close yet still wanting to be close to her presence.

It was the old woman who spoke up first, curious about the both of you considering you both were...a bit obvious you weren't cis.

It was her who spoke up first, talking about her experience and how she wanted the money to move away. You sat there silently as you listened, almost every part of the things she said...you could unfortunately relate to. The need to go somewhere more... accepting.

"...I know how you feel" you suddenly spoke up, all four of them seemed to turn to you. Your confidence faltering a bit at the attention yet you kept going, your gaze flickering to player 120's face.

"The...desperation. The need to go somewhere that might be more accepting to people like me...to people like us." You sighed, idly playing with the hem of the jacket's sleeves "I'm in the same boat. I'm not exactly...." You trailed off, waving your hand up and down your body, hoping they'd take the hint.

Her gaze softened at your words, a small smile on her lips at the confession. The others didn't seem to mind either. You knew it was probably a...bad idea getting attached yet you can't help but care deeply for the other four already.

•It was player 007 who spoke up after a few seconds of silence. Deciding to introduce himself and his mom. That's when you learned each other's names. And that's when you learned her name.

"Cho Hyun-ju...you uh- you have a nice name" you muttered, loud enough for her to hear. The compliment seemed to surprise her a bit, clear in her face that she wasn't expecting it. You expected her not to say anything back yet when she did, your heart was practically buzzing in happiness

"...you have a nice name too." She paused, giving you a small smile "it's nice to meet you".

[ceoofglytchell]

So this is love (Part 2)

| Part 1 | Part 3 |

Summary: The court has thought that once you are with child, finally some peace and quiet will return to the Red Keep. They were wrong.

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Twin Sister!Reader

Word count: 2789 words

Warnings: Incest, MDNI, Reader has Targaryen features, tooth rotting fluff, this is pure smut, humor, aegon and you being needy, idiots in love, suggestive themes, poor Aemond, pregnancy, piv sex, oral sex (f&m receiving), breeding kink, no mention of Y/N

Notes: You don’t have to have read the first part to understand this one. Likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated. Enjoy 💛

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"Aegon! Oh... darling," you moaned as your husband pressed you against the wooden tabletop of the table in the Small Council chamber and thrust into you over and over again. His movements were quick, desperate and it was clear that he really wanted to reach his climax.

His hand was placed on your stomach, which now had a barely noticeable bump. No one except you and your husband had noticed and it would be some time before your belly grew enough that you would have to wear larger dresses. You both couldn't wait. You had tried for six years and now the time had finally come.

Your hands were on the table in front of you and you tried to support yourself as best you could as your twin took you from behind like a wild animal.

You always knew that he could get wild during sex, but since you told him about the pregnancy, he couldn't stop touching you. Sometimes during breakfast he let his hand wander under your skirt and he played with your sensitive pearl with his fingers while you had to make small talk with your mother.

"I can't wait to see you grow," Aegon said suddenly. His voice was tense and his breath came in quick gasps as he moved his hips against yours over and over again.

His deep voice, your lustful moans, the sound of flesh hitting flesh and the sound of your wetness was the only thing that could be heard in the council chamber.

"I want to see your belly swell, your curves soften-fuck!- I want to see your breasts fill with milk," he whispered and grabbed your hips so he could push his cock even deeper into your tight cunt.

His words made your cunt close even tighter around his shaft and you could feel a wave of ecstasy rolling towards you. It only took a little more, a few thrusts, and you would scream his name in pure bliss.

"You're going to let me taste you, aren't you?" he asked suddenly, reaching his hand to cup one of your round breasts, causing your eyes to roll back and you knew you couldn't hold back any longer.

"Fuck, Aegon... I- I-"

"Cum for me, sister. Please, I need to see it," he replied without hesitation.

One last powerful thrust from him was enough for a loud moan to leave your throat and his name to come from your lips like a prayer as your body trembled and your vision went white for a moment.

Your climax hadn't quite subsided when your brother-husband pulled out of you, turned you around, and helped you sit on the edge of the table. Before you could ask him what he was doing, he was back between your thighs and entering you again.

You instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck and he leaned his forehead against yours as he finally filled you and a pleasant warmth immediately flooded through you.

The council chamber became quiet again and only your labored breathing could be heard as your foreheads leaned against each other and you held each other.

"I love you more than anything, my heart," your husband told you out of breath, whereupon you pressed a quick kiss to his lips.

"I love you too," you whispered, whereupon he placed his hand on your stomach again.

"I can hardly wait to meet him or her," he confessed with a smile playing around his lips.

"Me too, but now you should get dressed again, my darling," you giggled, whereupon he seemed to notice for the first time that he was still inside of you.

"I don't know, you're extremely comfortable."

With an exaggerated roll of your eyes, you placed your hands flat on his chest and pushed him away, making him laugh. Despite everything, he put his cock back in his breeches and quickly tied them again before fixing his doublet again. You pulled your dress down properly and brushed your damp hair from your forehead.

At that very second, the doors opened and Queen Alicent Hightower and her sworn protector Ser Criston came running in. When she saw you two, she stopped and tilted her head to the side.

"What are you two doing here?" she asked you, whereupon Criston looked at the floor as if he already knew. Of course he knew. Everyone knew. You've been doing nothing else for six years.

"Oh, we- we were just preparing for the council meeting," Aegon answered her with a nod.

You, on the other hand, quickly looked away so that your mother wouldn't see the blush on your face or the grin on your face due to your twin brother's actions.

"Really? What did you discuss?" asked the queen, crossing her arms over her chest.

Even if you didn't look, you knew that Aegon was looking at her with wide eyes and opening and closing his mouth at least twice. You couldn't blame him. Politics had never been his thing and certainly not yours either. It was boring.

"We discussed the... the... um, darling, you do better," he finally said and turned you by the hip so that you had to look your mother in the eyes again.

"We discussed the line of succession," you finally answered with an almost mischievous smile on your lips.

Your mother blinked and Criston shook his head almost imperceptibly, but you knew that he was secretly amused. He loved you as if you were his own children.

You heard Aegon laugh as he took a few steps to the side and stood on the balcony to look out onto the streets of the city that he loved so much at night. He liked to visit the taverns of the city with you and sometimes even went to a brothel, but always together because you could live out yourselves even more there.

Gods, that one time you danced for him in one of those thin silk dresses… he still got hard just thinking about it.

You wouldn't go out together for nine months now because he wanted to protect the little life inside your belly, but you would certainly be able to live out yourselves within the walls of this castle. You had just done so.

"I hope you have come to a conclusion," Alicent said finally, clearing her throat.

Your grin grew. "I can assure you, mother, we have."

Alicent rolled her eyes.

Aegon put his arms around you from behind.

And you? You were just happy.

"Aegon! Aegon, please, I want you,” you pleaded as he was about to leave the chambers to take a ride around the city on Sunfyre.

It had been almost two months since you found out you were pregnant and since you had done it in the council chamber, which the entire court knew about by now.

Aegon had always been insatiable and could get laid any hour of the day—or rather, lay with you—but ever since you had become pregnant, you were the one who couldn't keep your hands off him anymore.

You had become as lustful as a whore from the Street of Silk, but he loved it.

“Can't you wait for me for an hour, sweet girl?” he asked you, putting his hands on your cheeks and holding you so you had to look into his eyes.

“Brother, please... I need you,” you replied, pouting.

Oh no. Not that pout.

"Hey, don't look at me like that," he said, trying to sound as serious as possible.

"Why?" you asked, blinking your eyelashes innocently.

Gods, you're going to be his death someday.

"Seven hells," he cursed, kissing you as if these were his last few minutes on earth.

You moaned into the kiss and wrapped your arms around his neck. Your fingers played with his shoulder-length hair and you instinctively pressed your body closer to him.

Aegon's hands wandered along your curves and he moaned, swearing you were already softening. You had always been beautiful in his eyes, but the mere thought of his heir growing inside you and your body soon adjusting to it drove him wild.

While he continued to kiss you, he just knew that he would not leave these chambers again that day and that you would probably stay awake half the night.

Over time, you became a little more civilized again, but Aegon was now so used to constantly losing himself in your warmth that he did not want to leave you alone for a second.

You were sitting in the library reading a book about pregnancy and the changes that would soon await you. Golden candlelight enveloped you as you sat in one of the many armchairs with an old tome on your lap.

You were so engrossed in the yellowed pages that you did not notice your husband approaching from behind.

Suddenly a hand was placed on your shoulder and you yelped in surprise, whereupon a loud laugh sounded from behind you. You turned around and slammed the book against your brother's side, which made him laugh even harder.

"Aegon, you ass!" you called with an angry glint in your amethyst colored eyes.

"Apologies, darling. I just couldn't resist," he grinned and stood close to the chair you were sitting in and right between your legs.

"And here I thought you would treat me more gently now that I am carrying your child, brother."

Aegon cooed and stood even more clearly between your legs, which instinctively made you press back into the backrest of the chair and into the cushion that supported your lower back.

Your eyes were wide and the light from the candles reflected off of them in such a way that the prince wanted nothing more than to devour you whole. And that's exactly what he was going to do now.

Without warning, he dropped to his knees in front of you, gathered your skirts in his hands and pushed them up with a jerk.

You let it happen and just buried one of your hands in his silver hair to hold onto him.

Aegon ran his hand over the soft material of your stockings until they ended at your knees. His hand slid over your silky skin to your warm thighs and what lay between them, in desperate need of him.

"Seven hells, you are dripping," Aegon grinned as he slid his finger through your wet slit. It always amused him to see how quickly he could prepare you for him. It stroked his ego.

"Shut up," you nagged, playfully tugging on his hair, causing him to let out a deep grunt. He liked it and you knew it.

"Good thing I haven't eaten anything tonight. I'm starving," your husband whispered before he leaned towards you without hesitation and ran his tongue through your dripping cunt. A groan escaped him and his fingers automatically dug deeper into the soft flesh of your thighs.

Your eyes closed and you buried your hand deeper into his hair, letting the feeling of his tongue intoxicate you.

"Gods, you taste heavenly," he moaned as he continued to feast on you as if you were the most delicious thing he had ever eaten.

You could feel your climax approaching more and more with every second that passed. It was like a wave, slowly rolling towards you on the horizon, ready to swallow you entirely. You loved the feeling.

His nose suddenly hit your pearl at such a perfect angle that you finally couldn't hold back any longer. You gasped loudly and with a broken cry of his name, your high crashed over you and your whole body shook as Aegon continued to slide his tongue through your slit, not wanting to let a drop go to waste.

Your breathing was heavy as you recovered from your high, your chest rising and falling rapidly with each breath you took. Your brother-husband pulled away from you and stood up again, using the sleeve of your dress to wipe your juices from his face. A teasing grin was on his lips. As always.

"Well, my heart, would you be so kind as to return the favor?" he grinned, whereupon your gaze instinctively wandered to his crotch, where you could see a very clear bulge. It was a miracle that he hadn't cum from your performance alone. In fact, it had happened a few times before. You never blamed him for it. No, you found it endearing in a way and it turned you on even more.

"Sit down," you said breathlessly and stood up on wobbly knees to make room for him. He could now make himself comfortable in the armchair while you took care of him.

Aegon dropped into the armchair with a satisfied sigh and immediately spread his legs so that you could sit between them. You quickly dropped down and began to undo the laces that held his breeches together at the top with nimble, practiced fingers.

Your beloved just closed his eyes and let one of his hands wander through the silky strands of your long silver hair. He loved the feeling of your hair in his hands. Even if you were just lying next to each other in bed, he would often just run his fingers through the strands or bury his nose in them. There was nothing about you that he didn't love.

You pulled his thick cock out of his pants and immediately licked your lips. The tip was already glistening with pre-cum. You loved having him in your mouth. Gods, how you loved tasting him and hearing the sounds he made when you took care of him.

You leaned towards him and began pressing small, feather-light kisses against his shaft. A gasp escaped your husband and you could feel his grip on your hair tightening.

No longer able to hold back, you closed your lips around the tip and looked up at him, meeting his gaze. He had to pull himself together at the sight so that he would not spill his seed onto your face immediately. He would much rather fill your womb again.

Slowly and carefully he began to move his hips against your face so that more of him would disappear inside the hot alcove of your mouth. He watched as you closed your eyes and one of your hands disappeared under the skirt of your dress.

An Insatiable little thing you were... You could never get enough of him.

A groan escaped him as you took him deeper into your mouth. By all the gods...

You were both so lost in your lust that you didn't hear the footsteps echoing on the library floor. A sharp gasp sounded and then a sound that was more like a groan.

"Seven hells, why can't you stop this?!" a deep voice suddenly cut through the silence.

Aegon immediately sat up straighter and you immediately stopped satisfying your brother with your mouth and turned around with wide eyes only to see that Aemond was standing not far from you and looking at you angrily.

Angry and disappointed.

"We... we," you began, but you couldn't find the right words.

"But, little brother, anyone else would have stayed quiet and enjoyed the show," said Aegon, putting his cock back in his pants, which unfortunately became soft once more.

Your brother rolled his one good eye and shook his head.

"This is a place of knowledge and you are tainting it with your... your depravity," replied Aemond through gritted teeth.

"Depravity?" asked Aegon. "Is a man not allowed to be loved by his wife?"

"But not here!"

Aegon was about to open his mouth again and make a witty comment when you suddenly stood up and brushed the dirt off your skirt that had stuck to the floor.

"If you'll excuse us, little brother, but we have something urgent to do now," you said, reaching for your twin's hand, which he immediately took, a teasing grin on his face.

Your little brother scoffed and shook his head again, his long silver hair falling over his shoulders.

"You are incorrigible," he said finally.

"Think of us every time you see that armchair, will you?" Aegon asked him as he too rose and slowly pulled you along toward the door so you could return to your chambers to continue where you left off.

"I think of you two even when I just see an open window," he grumbled, making you giggle.

"Wait until you have a wife. You'll want her to ride you like a-"

"Out!" hissed the youngest of the three of you, and you hurried out of the library laughing heartily, leaving Aemond with very red cheeks.

Oh, how he hated you two.

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Taglist: @bey0nd-1he-stars @sassypain @hisfavegirl @elliott-calls @themoonofthesun

[rainydayathogwarts]

Off limits pt.3 - remus lupin

summary: when sirius sees you kissing his best friend, he decides to have his first real conversation with you in two years, and you finally reveal what life has been like for you and regulus after he left. wc: 1.1k+ pt.1 \\ pt.2

No matter how much you increased your pace, the volume of Sirius’s footsteps never subsided, hinting that your brother was right on your tail. A harsh call of your name had you wincing, finally stopping in your tracks. There was no pretending you hadn’t heard his angry call of your name. Spinning around with an unimpressed expression on your face, you crossed your arms over your chest as Sirius continued stepping towards you, even when you deemed him too close. His hand wrapped around your bicep, and he tugged you along with him to a dark, secluded area, underneath a spiralling staircase.

Now you were scared.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a tall, scar-faced boy round the corner into the corridor, following you and Sirius. Sirius let go of your bicep with a push that had you stumbling back a couple of steps, feeling your back grazing the wall behind you.

“I fucking understand if you want to fuck with me, or make my life miserable, but keep my friends out of it!” You scoffed at Sirius’s words, nodding slowly at him. “Of course you think it’s all about you. Sirius, I don’t. Fucking. Care. About you.” Your brother laughed loudly, gesturing to the invisible audience, and the one boy he didn’t know was listening from behind the staircase. “You don’t fucking care about me. Then why the fuck are you playing around with Remus’s feelings?”

“I’m not playing with Remus’s feelings! I like him! I fucking like him so much, you dumbass!” Sirius took a step back at your sudden outburst, watching with wide eyes as a shiny layer of fresh tears appeared over your eyes. “You’re the reason I haven’t made a move on him sooner! Because I know you hate me! I know you don’t want me near you or your friends!” You inhaled deeply, ignoring the angry tears that silently rolled down your cheeks, wiping them off your face aggressively.

“You-you actually like him?” Sirius spoke in almost a whisper, guilt immediately painting his features. You nodded wordlessly. “I know you want nothing to do with me and Regulus. We’ve known that since you left us. But fuck Sirius, we don’t hate you for it. We hate you for the way you treat us. As though we agree with mum and dad. As though we’ve shown you that we’ve hated you all our lives. Your bullshit behaviour towards us has all been under some delusion that we are happy you’re gone.”

Sirius was silent, spluttering as he took in your words. You’d spoken as though you had a confession, afraid to tell him he was being delusional before. Suddenly, Sirius felt bad. For how he yelled at you now, for how he’s treated you and Regulus for the past two years. He was supposed to be your big brother, your protector. He’d been everything but that.

“Regulus and I aren’t brave like you Sirius. But we also aren’t as treacherous. I would never leave Regulus on his own, even if that meant sacrificing what was left of our relationship. But just because we don’t have a relationship now, doesn’t mean I cannot be involved with people you know. Remus likes me and I like him. And I’m going to go out with him whether you like it or not. If you’re so insecure about your friendship with him, maybe you should speak to him, not me.”

Remus rubbed his eyes from where he hid behind the staircase, not expecting for this confrontation to get so emotional. He dragged his feet over to where you and Sirius stood underneath the staircase, crossing both his arms over his chest. “Oh my god.” You gasped, turning away from Remus to wipe away at your wet cheeks. You glanced at your reflection in the glass window, wiping smudged mascara away from underneath your lower lashes.

You turned back around to find your brother and his best friend stood in the exact same position, neither of them moving, just staring at each other. “We’ve been sitting next to each other in potions all year. That’s how - no one went behind your back, Sirius.” Remus finally spoke, a disappointed look in his eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me? I only asked about a hundred times!” You gulped as the volume of Sirius’s voice increased again, betrayal evident in his voice.

Remus scoffed in amusement, gesturing an arm between the two of you. “Sirius, do you remember what you said to me at Hogsmeade? Don’t fall for her tricks, she’s just trying to get to me! Why would I tell you, when the entire time you were so convinced she was doing it for you?”

Sirius immediately seemed sheepish, a hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck. “I seem to have misjudged the situation.” He admitted, looking between you and Remus, but you weren’t looking at him. Why was it so easy for him to admit his mistake to Remus, but he had to be stubborn when it came to you? Sirius called your name, the soft tone of voice sounding alien to you. “I’m sorry, I-I didn’t realise I hurt you and Regulus so much.”

No response.

He sighed. A part of him was still angry at you, his thoughts clouded by his own defensive judgements. But you had the right to be mad at him, furious even. He knew he would be too. Sirius decided he would give you time to deal with your feelings, trying to regain your trust through his actions. But for now? Well, he decided to leave you with someone you actually trusted.

Sirius walked away, letting Remus take a few steps towards you, cupping your cheeks softly. “Hey, look at me.” You followed his instruction, meeting his worried eyes. “Are you okay?” You nodded, sniffling softly as your eyes filled with tears once more. “I wasn’t planning on letting you seeing me cry, like, ever.” You muttered, deciding to opt out of ‘so we’re going to have to get married then’.

He laughed softly, his thumb caressing your cheek. “It’s good to start a relationship with trust, isn’t it?” Humming softly, you brought your hands up to grip the bottom of his jumper. Remus leaned down, pressing his lips to yours. You sighed in satisfaction, pressing yourself on your tippy toes as your eyes fluttered shut. One of Remus’s arms wrapped around your waist to steady you and you brought a hand to the back of his neck. His lips parted from yours for a short moment to admire at you fondly.

“I don’t want this relationship to involve my brother, please.” You said, voice quiet. Remus chuckled half-heartedly as an uncomfortable image formed in his mind.

“Yeah, I really don’t want this relationship to involve your brother either. You know, I’m expecting us to be the only two people on our dates.”

taglist: @amatoanima @jimeniita @moonyswifee @froggiedragon @ilovesugurugeto69 @lotsostrawberrybear @whoismurphyslaw @navs-bhat @theoraekenslover

@ravisinghs-wife, @amatoanima, @starry-remus, @pain-in-the-ashe, @hiireadstuff, @superlegend216, @treefairy-28, @superlegend216, @kitkatkl, @rory-cakes, @juliet-017

[kunareads]

gq couple's interview

first installment of the bed chem shorts collection! these two are very special to me and i don't know if i'll ever be ready to part with them so here we are lol.

idek if i like this but i miss them !!!

wc: 1.2k of FLUFF

series masterlist / full masterlist

“hi gq! we’re here to do a couple’s quiz today. satoru is going to fail.”

satoru gasps, pressing a hand to his chest like you’ve wounded him. “i literally know everything about you.”

you don’t even blink. “what’s my middle name?”

his lips part. he hesitates. do you have a middle name?

the producer chimes in. “you’ll both guess the other person’s answer. if you match, you get a point.”

“what do we win?” satoru asks.

“confirmation that you know me the way you think you do,” you deadpan.

“well that’s a terrible incentive,” he pouts.

[ round one: the basics ]

what's their favorite color?

you both write your answers. satoru taps his marker against his chin like he’s deep in thought. you tap your board twice before holding it close to your chest.

once you’re both done, you flip the marker in your hand. “this is easy. blue.”

satoru flips his board with a flourish. “blue, obviously. yours is blue, too.”

you flip your board, shaking your head at him. “rainbow.”

he blinks. “i—what?”

you nod sagely. “all of them, satoru. keep up.”

satoru looks directly at the camera.

y/n: 1 | satoru: 0

what's their coffee order?

satoru takes his sweet time, drawing something on the board.

“you don’t like coffee,” you say.

he nods as he flips his board. it says ‘no coffee!’ with a picture of a tiny frowning coffee cup with crossed arms.

“what’s mine?” you ask him, squinting.

he leans back in his chair, smiling triumphantly. “espresso.”

you take a deep breath, then flip your board to him. “iced coffee with three pumps of vanilla sweet cream.”

satoru looks at you like you’re forgetting something. “babe. the song.”

“i do not drink espresso, satoru.”

“but in the song—”

“a song is not a personality trait!”

y/n: 2 | satoru: 0

sweet or savory?

you both write your answers quickly.

you smile at him. “sweet.”

he reveals his answer: “sweet. yours is sweet, too.”

you show him your board. “sweet.”

he grins at you. “see? and you doubted me.”

y/n: 3 | satoru: 1

[ round two: mildly concerning confessions ]

what's their guilty pleasure?

satoru pauses for a beat before writing, biting the end of his marker in deep contemplation.

you smirk. “yours is rom-coms. and you cry at them.”

satoru flips his board over. “skincare.”

“that’s fair. you take, like, 45 minutes in the bathroom at night.”

“i have to let each step sink in.” then, dead serious: “your guilty pleasure is falling asleep to true crime because it ‘helps you relax.’ this causes me physical distress at night.”

you hesitate with a sheepish smile before flipping the board. “true crime.”

he shakes his head. “you’re lucky you’re cute.”

y/n: 3 | satoru: 2

what's their go-to karaoke song?

you both write with confidence.

“it’s bed chem for him.”

he flips the board. “bed chem.”

“you’re so full of yourself, satoru.”

he rests a cheek on his hand. “if i don’t sing my own song, who will?”

“and what’s my karaoke song?”

satoru taps his marker against the table on beat. “you’re gonna be popular,” he sings.

you show your answer: “popular from the wicked soundtrack.”

he throws his hands up. “i’m unstoppable.”

you smile at him. “two in a row. you feeling confident?”

he grins back at you. “absolutely. this is my redemption arc.”

y/n: 4 | satoru: 3

what's their drunk habit?

he’s already giggling to himself as he writes. you shoot him a look before finishing your own answer.

“you have zero volume control after one drink.”

satoru scoffs, flipping his board: “becomes an excellent singer.”

you groan. “oh my god, satoru.”

he nods wisely. “it’s true. i ascend vocally.”

you shake your head and address the camera. “bed chem is not just his karaoke song. it’s also what he subjects everyone to when he’s allowed to drink. especially the falsettos at the end.”

satoru leans in. “you’re just jealous. moving on, yours is that you have to pee every ten minutes.”

you shake your head and flip the board. “competitive.” he bursts out laughing, making you roll your eyes. “i hate losing, okay?”

he shakes his head, still giggling. “no, you don’t just ‘hate losing.’ you cried over a game of uno once.”

you point at him. “because why would you make me draw four?!”

y/n: 4 | satoru: 3

[ round three: the soft side ]

what's one thing they do that makes you soft?

you both think about it hard before writing.

you glance at him before you speak. “when i fix your hair or your clothes before we step out.”

he tilts his head. “that is cute,” he says. he flips his board. “i wrote when you reach for my sleeve in a crowd.”

your lips part slightly before you school your expression. “oh.”

he leans back, grinning. “you do it all the time. you don’t even realize it.”

you shrug, looking away. “it’s just… so i don’t lose you.”

satoru raises a brow. “so i don’t lose you.”

you smile. “shut up.”

“i think you wrote when i learn all the words to your songs so i can sing them at your shows.”

you roll your eyes and giggle. “you’re very loud, by the way.” you flip the board. “when he pulls me closer in his sleep.”

he blinks. “wait, really?”

you nod, suddenly a little shy. “yeah. i don’t think you know you do that.”

he tilts his head, a blush creeping onto his face before he smiles. “well. that’s embarrassing for me.”

you smile at him. “yeah, sit with that.”

y/n: 4 | satoru: 3

what's your favorite memory together?

you’re stumped on this one. he finishes writing nearly a whole twenty seconds before you.

you look at him. “our first inside joke.”

he laughs softly before flipping his board over. “the first time you fell asleep on me mid-conversation.”

you blink. “that’s your favorite?”

satoru shrugs. “you were in the middle of telling me a story, then boom. out like a light. right on top of me.”

you shake your head, amused and embarrassed. “you could’ve woken me up.”

he smirks. “you looked peaceful. also, i’ve never been that still in my life.”

you give him a soft smile. “what do you think my favorite memory is?”

“dancing in the kitchen for the first time.”

you squint, your grin growing as you flip your board. “the first time we danced in the kitchen. that was a good night.”

satoru nods. “i’m an excellent dance partner.”

you deadpan. “the back of my head smacked the counter when you dipped me.”

he just beams at you.

y/n: 4 | satoru: 4

what's something they do when they're happy?

neither of you think too hard here.

“i twirl my rings.”

satoru flips his board. “you get extra affectionate with me.”

you furrow your brows. “do i, though?”

satoru grins. “yes. you don’t even notice, but you’re touchier when you’re in a good mood. you kiss my face and hold my hand and sit in my lap and—”

you press your lips together, trying not to smile. “okay, okay, we get it.”

“i think you wrote that i talk too much.”

you snort, flipping your board over. “your face gets soft like a baby.”

he scoffs. “like a baby?”

you nod, delighted. “yeah, it’s like—you just look softer. your eyes get all wide and warm. like a baby deer.”

satoru stares at you. “a baby deer.”

you nod. “exactly.”

the producer cuts in. “and the final score is a tie! 4 to 4.”

satoru sighs dramatically. “rigged.”

you lean over and kiss his cheek. “try harder next time, baby deer.”

[ponysongbracket]

MLP Song Tournament

Please listen to both songs before voting.

Cheese Confesses

Pie Sisters' Swap Day Song

[aethon-recs]

40 Tomarrymort Recs for 2024 — Longfic Edition (Part 3)

Part 3 of 2024 recs! See below for a round-up of some of the most engaging multi-chaptered works/longfics that I came across in this ship in 2024 🤍

As with last year, I found each of these fics, in their depiction of the ship, to be a fresh or surprising take on our familiar beloved characters of Harry and Tom|Voldemort, with an emphasis on underrated fics and/or fics that made me think about the ship in some new way. It's amazing to me that even after 20+ years of writing in this ship, there are still so many new themes and tropes and angles to explore. 

Criteria for this list: multi-chaptered, Tomarrymort-centric, with at least 1 update published in 2024. 

Overall, for 2024, I've split up my year-end recs into 3 parts: (1) Completed Multi-Chapter Fics, (2) One-Shots, (3) WIPs. Here’s the link back to Part 1: Completed Multi-Chapter Fics with 30 fics and Part 2: One-Shots with 30 fics. And with these 40 fics, this wraps up 100 recs for Tomarrymort for 2024!

*

a cool drink of water by @zolpidem105 (E, 10k, WIP)

Harry Potter, an apprentice at Police Scotland, wakes up to find he’s not in his bed.  "Awake? Excellent. We should get going," Tim?—Tom—says from the side, sounding far, far too alert for what Harry feels is catastrophically early in the morning.

A Simple Request by @shyinsunlight (E, 70k, WIP)

Harry can't sleep because of his neighbours' constant fighting, and he ends up falling asleep at work. Tom Riddle, CEO, is not particularly happy.

Accidents happen by @themothatyourdoor (T, 51k, WIP)

Harry must have been London's first accidental sugar daddy.

And the Living Will Envy the Dead by @k-s-morgan (M, 114k, WIP)

When Tom looks at Harry, he feels nothing. Until he does, and then Harry’s world starts drowning in blood.

Anytime, Anywhere, Always by @moontearpensfic (E, 30k, WIP)

Tom expects to feel victorious at his greatest enemy's confession. Instead, he develops a crush on him.

Auror Potter by @albondiguilla007 (E, 21k, WIP)

Harry Potter is done. He's been in the past for months now, working undercover. Enter Tom Riddle. Impulse control has never been a strong suit of Harry’s, and this mission is proving to be the most difficult one yet.

By Any Means by @corpium (E, 101k, WIP)

Harry Potter will do anything to protect his little brother, whether that means facing the Dursleys' wrath, dogging his brother's footsteps, or taking down the Dark Lord himself. Absolutely anything.

Crush by @chiocchi (T, 4 chapters, WIP)

Tom Riddle doesn't know what it's like to have a crush. So when his heart starts beating fast every time he sees Harry Potter, it can only mean one thing: His instincts are telling him that Harry Potter is a threat that must be eliminated.

Do It Over by @marrythemonstersao3 (T, 57k, WIP)

Harry wakes up on the morning of his eleventh birthday, ready to do things differently this time. He has no grand plans, just the instinct to be close to the man whose soul he shares.

draw me after you (let us run) by @toast-ranger-to-a-stranger (E, 287k, WIP)

“Harry Potter,” comes the soft, sibilant hiss of a voice he has heard in his dreams, in his nightmares, in his waking hours for years. “It seems I have finally caught you.” 

Echoes by @dracomort (M, 4k, WIP)

Across a thousand worlds, Harry and Tom find each other.

Embryo by @cannibalinc (NR, 112k, WIP)

This is Tom’s destiny, a King among men. No—a god. He need only rise to that which is his for the taking… if only one strange boy weren’t so determined to get in his way.

Hole in the Wall by @elddrmot (E, 77k, WIP)

Voldemort survives the final battle and is imprisoned in Azkaban. After a series of unfortunate events, Harry Potter ends up in the cell next to him.

Ills of Murder by @shadow-of-the-eclipse (M, 90k, WIP)

Harry Potter is a time-travelling, furious mess, and he is going to kill the Dark Lord. Like most of his plans, things do not work out. Tom should not be so obsessed with his would-be murderer.

Liquida Tenebris (Remastered) by @dymis (E, 595k, WIP)

When Harry Potter cast his first Cruciatus Curse, he was successful. In doing so, he awoke the darkness in his head. It whispers, and it's never wrong. The darkness is hungry, and won’t be denied.

Moon Rite by @isalisewrites (E, 15k, WIP)

Voldemort learned the truth: Harry was his horcrux. With a sudden offer of a ceasefire, the decades long war could be over - lives saved and protected - if Harry swore to one agreement: a magically binding marriage contract with Voldemort himself.

No Glory by @obsidianpen (E, 313k, WIP)

The Dark Lord divines what Harry Potter is in the Forbidden Forest, and revelations lead to incomprehensible consequences. Lord Voldemort has won... and the dystopia is damning.

Of Kings, of Pawns, and of Men by @ambivalens999 (E, 166k, WIP)

When Harry succumbs to dementors in Little Whinging, the last thing he expects is to wake and find Tom Riddle’s face staring back at him in the mirror. It only goes downhill from there.

of various storms and saints by MaidenMotherCrone (E, 36k, WIP)

“I am the last Lector. I am my people’s very last hope,” Harry bites out through the teeth of his fury. He is done throwing curses and spells. He is reduced to this, divine rage.  And then, Voldemort is there, looming and dark and great and terrible. “And I will stamp it out.”

One Year In Every Ten by @saintsenara (E, 207k, WIP)

A decade after the final battle, just when the wizarding world thinks itself safe, a serial killer emerges, leaving a trail of dead women in his wake. Each of the bodies bears a gruesome message for the Aurors. A message which claims the Dark Lord has risen again.

Reckless Cartography by @meles-merrivale (M, 39k, WIP)

Featuring Harry and Tom attending Hogwarts together and slowly ruining each other’s lives.

Revolution of Configured Stars by @tollingreminiscentbells (E, 162k, WIP)

In another world, Harry Potter was spared. Raised in Lord Voldemort's Britain, he enters his seventh year wanting to keep his head down. But after a chance encounter with ‘Marvolo Gaunt’, it looks like it may not be so simple.

Saint Harry by @alenablack @chaos-bear (E, 70k, WIP)

The moment Harry is struck by the killing curse, it’s not death that awaits him, but ascension. A story of faith, obsession, and the burden of divinity.

Seaforth by @kippipies (M, 10k, WIP)

For as long as he can remember, Harry's had a normal life, looking after a precocious child named Tom on an isolated island. But everything in his normal life is shattered when he finds out a terrible truth: that a powerful leader called Voldemort is after him.

Seeing Sand by @valkyrie-chemist (T, 95k, WIP)

Anticipation bubbled in Tom’s stomach as he imagined fear and shock Harry’s green eyes. Eyes that snapped open the instant Tom's hand touched the frame of the hospital bed. Eyes that burned gold.

some like it hot by @duplicitywrites (E, 12k, WIP)

When Tom Riddle applies for an internship at the Ministry of Magic, he is assigned to the Department of Magical Fire Control and Containment, a department that boasts a very impressive headcount of one: Harry Potter.

Strings of Fate by @solelyseeking (E, 58k, WIP)

“When I touch you,” Tom says, bitterness clinging to every syllable, “I feel whole.” Harry might just be the first interesting thing that Tom has ever encountered.

Stygian by @crowcrowcrowthing (E, 71k, WIP)

There's a book in Voldemort's private library that can explain this kind of magic. The cover is black and shiny and looks like it's breathing. Harry really wants to take a look at chapter three, no matter what it takes.

Tender Reigns Our Night by noumena (M, 103k, WIP)

Sent on a Ministry mission to fight for magic's survival, Harry goes back in time with two simple objectives: find and destroy any existing Horcruxes, and stop Tom Riddle ever evolving into Voldemort. Harry thus finds himself working alongside Riddle at Borgin and Burke's.

The Longing by @aglassroseneverfades (M, 41k, WIP)

What is possibly most damning of all is that Harry is not thinking of his parents right now as he trudges alongside his companions up to Voldemort’s eerie castle. He is thinking instead, as he often does, of a name that burns too brightly on his wrist in the pre-dawn light.

The Runemaster by @kazisstillawake (E, 43k, WIP)

Harry trips on a rock and leaps through time. 1940s Hogwarts is very different from the home he is familiar with. To make matters worse, he is dumped into Slytherin – Riddle’s territory. But it’s hard to be invisible when you’re a novelty, a new student that knows too much for your own good.

the stars, my destination by @milkandmoon-ao3 (E, 47k, WIP)

Harry is sent through time to the relative safety of 1963 and adopted into the Potter family. Now he’s entering his sixth year at Hogwarts in 1976, with a war brewing just outside the school walls. The last thing he needs is to catch the attention of the rising Dark Lord.

The Unintentional Consequences of Prison Reform by @badluck (E, 28k, WIP)

Harry Potter, newly licensed Mind Healer, puts personal history aside to take on his hardest job yet. “Talk to me, please. Give me a chance to make you better.” Lord Voldemort looks downright murderous.

The Word of Your Body by @ictyn (E, 7k, WIP)

“Have you heard from him?” Albus asks. He only means one person when he asks Harry this question. He’s asked it five times in twenty years, and the answer is always the same. The only thing he knows about Tom is that he’s not dead. Harry would know if that happened. He’d feel it beating inside his heart, inside of his very soul.

Timeless by @perhaps-sunlight (E, 3k, WIP)

In which Master of Death Harry Potter time travels to the 1940s, only fixing Tom Riddle isn’t quite what he had in mind.

To the Hilt by @izharmilgram (E, 28k, WIP)

Voldemort had trusted him with the task of bringing Prince Gryffindor under his control, thus securing the future of Gryffindor within their hands. Tom would do so easily—the prince was a mere omega, docile and sweet, easily swayed—and then Gryffindor Kingdom would be folded into the Slytherin Dynasty. He would prove himself undoubtedly useful, and Voldemort would finally let him rule at his side.

Venom or Valor by @lightningant (M, 52k, WIP)

20 years old and unemployed, Harry decides to use a time turner to travel to 1946. But what he finds isn’t the proud, charismatic Dark-Lord-To-Be, but a neurotic 19-year-old Tom Riddle living quietly in the tiny flat that his retail job barely pays for, isolated and addled by chronic illness.

we made universes out of bitten lips and broken hands by @boyneptunee (M, 68k, WIP)

Seer Harry who tries to write his own future, fuck prophesies and mastermind darklords and evil teachers. He will live his life, and he will enjoy it, dammit. Oh, and there's also Tom Riddle.

What In Me Is Dark, Illumine by @telelli-writes (M, 80k, WIP)

There was a new transfer student, Tom observed at the Start-of-Term Feast as he idly twisted the Gaunt ring around his finger. Featuring a schoolboy on the precipice of becoming a monster, a powerful and mysterious newcomer to Hogwarts, and an initial spark of interest that becomes an obsession.

With a resolute heart by Act_Naturally (M, 243k, WIP)

Triwizard Tournament, but Hunger Games: Tom Riddle needs to win to fulfill his plans. Cedric Diggory wants to make his family proud. Hermione wants her friends to survive. Harry wants a lot of things, including Tom Riddle. 

you speak of the devil (like he's not your friend) by @amuria (M, 64k, WIP)

When Harry wakes a seventeen-year-old Tom Riddle from the Gaunt's Ring, it is to a world where his future self has achieved none of their goals except one. Harry is proof that he's a great wizard after all.

*

[twstedpurple]

TWST characters getting jealous when you spend more time with Stitch than with them (Part 1)

✧ Inspired by the new Stitch's Tropical Turbulence event.

✧ You can read Part 2 here.

Ace Trappola

Initially, Ace enjoyed having Stitch join the two of you, having fun as you all laughed, played, and hung out together with the other students at the island. But as he watched you grow increasingly attached to Stitch, and the way the blue furball kept clinging to you in return, a sense of irritation began to gnaw at him.

Ace tried to brush it off at first. As one of your first and closest friends at school, he’d been around you long enough to know your kindness extended to everyone and that you had a soft spot for small creatures like Stitch. But the feeling persisted, growing stronger with each passing day. He'd always been confident in his ability to captivate you, to make you smile and laugh with his silly jokes and antics. But hearing your constant giggles caused by Stitch, seeing you completely captivated by the alien's boundless energy and goofy charm, caused jealousy to stir within him.

Despite his efforts to act nonchalant, he couldn't help but secretly glare, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watched you and Stitch engrossed in your own little world. He would constantly find himself making excuses to be near you two, subtly inserting himself into your interactions. Although he wouldn’t admit it to anyone, he was jealous of the attention Stitch was receiving from you, jealous of the laughter that now echoed around you—a laughter that didn't include him. He was jealous of the little alien beside you who could effortlessly steal your attention and openly show his affection to you without getting embarrassed or teased by others.

Floyd Leech

Floyd didn't like it one bit. Sure, playing with the alien Stitch was fun and all, but seeing you constantly fawning over the little guy, ignoring Floyd in the process, sent a flicker of discontent across his face. Floyd got easily jealous when others stole your attention away from him. You were his precious shrimpy, after all.

Like Ace, he would try to wedge himself between you and Stitch to draw your attention. One moment he’d join in the fun with forced enthusiasm, only to get bored and withdraw the next due to his unpredictable mood swings. When his attempts to capture your attention failed and you remained engrossed with Stitch, Floyd’s mood darkened further.

He felt a suffocating sense of possessiveness, yearning for your undivided attention and affection. He wanted you all to himself. As he watched Stitch snuggle into your side, resting his head on your lap while you gently stroked his fur with a tender smile, his scowl deepened, his heart burning with jealousy. Unable to bear it any longer, he stormed over, yanking Stitch away. Then, grabbing you by the waist, he settled you onto his lap, wrapping his arms tightly around you in a possessive embrace. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, whining that you should play with him too. He snuggled even closer, ignoring the growling blue alien glaring daggers at him.

Riddle Rosehearts

From a distance, Riddle watched as Stitch playfully perched on your shoulder, nuzzling your cheek with his big, round nose, drawing a soft giggle from you. This playful interaction sparked an unfamiliar pang of jealousy within him. Though he tried to maintain a composed exterior, his eyes betrayed him, narrowing, and a faint frown would crease his face as he watched the cheerful duo.

Every now and then, Riddle would find an excuse to interject, gently scolding you for spoiling the little creature too much. His tone was stern, but deep down, he knew his disapproval was driven more by envy than genuine concern. He couldn't bear to watch you so happy together, knowing that he longed for that same closeness, though confessing such feelings wasn't easy for him.

Under the pretense of keeping an eye on them, Riddle would stay close, claiming it was to prevent any potential trouble Stitch might cause. His true motive, however, was far more personal. He wanted to be near you too, to share in the moments of joy you experienced with Stitch. He would stand nearby, arms crossed, his gaze unwavering as he watched you and Stitch bond. As he watched, he would often tap his finger on his arm or his foot on the sandy beach in silent frustration, his jealousy growing. Yet,  he kept his emotions tightly in check, not wanting to make his feelings obvious to you or anyone else.

[zaineviu]

❛𝘚𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵❜ - L.F (SKZ)

synopsis. Felix feels soft at the sight of his pregnant wife.

pairings. felix x reader!

content. sfw, husband!felix, pregnant!reader.

wc. 620

a/n. A very smooth continuation of ‘A little dramatic’ as I saw that many people liked that one.

part 1: ‘A little dramatic’

Don't forget to comment, so I know you like what I write and encourage me to keep writing.

"You shouldn't be drinking this."

"Felix, I have no problem with drinking this."

"But the baby..."

"The baby enjoys it, our little bean like it." Y/N took her husband's hand to let it rest on her belly.

How round and soft it was the poor man couldn't help but not smile.

"Y/N..."

"Come and hold me, drinking coke won't hurt me, it was just a little sip." Felix shook his head.

"Don't be stubborn and give me that." He snatched the empty bottle from her hands, making a mental note with throwing away all the cans that were in the fridge. "My love, the doctor said you couldn't drink these kinds of beverages, I'll make you a natural flavoured juice, okay? Healthier, healthier, and our baby will enjoy it."

Y/N groaned nodding, ignoring the sympathetic look on her husband's face.

She knew she had a commitment to eating and drinking healthy things, however; Jisung had brought a box with cans of soda that ended up forgotten in her fridge in the end, she couldn't help but grab just one can to take a mini sip of that cold Coke.

"You're so obnoxious. Baby, I hope and you don't go out like your dad, or I'll be very upset." She muttered. Her hands slid down her swollen seven month belly, in two more weeks she would be eight and you couldn't be anything but excited about it.

"I heard you, but I know our precious baby will look like you, I hope he does," the blond man confessed genuinely, sitting down next to you after leaving the full can of soda on the bedside table next to his bed. His hand never leaving your belly.

"Seven months in my belly, of course he have to." Y/N groaned, glad to feel Felix move closer and wrap his arms around you to lift your belly a little, letting you breathe.

"Do you want anything special, are you hungry, honey?"

"I don't think so, just you please... or well yeah, can you make me eat those cheddar cinnamon rolls you made the other night?"

"It tasted gross, are you sure you want that?"

"You're talking to someone pregnant, dumb. Of course I want to eat that." She groaned again after the sense of relief she felt at being in her cloying husband's arms.

"Stop doing that..." Felix pressed his lips to her neck, hiding his face in the crook of his beloved's neck. "I love you both so much...you make me so happy Y/N, I thank God for giving me the chance to be able to be with you and to have the chance to have a baby, our sweet love...I love you so much, love of my life..." 

Felix's eyes glazed over, breaking his voice at the end of his little speech, "you don't know how much I love you."

Felix began to cry, clinging to Y/N's body who smoothly turned around so she could hug him.

"I'm not leaving, Lixie, why are you crying, my sweet heart?"

"I don't know..."

"I'm the one who should be crying not you, stop crying, my love."

"It’s just that you make me so happy, so happy that I don't know how to express it."

"Everything you do for me is your way of expressing it, look, you even got me pregnant, what other proof of love do you need to get rid of that insecurity? I love you, with all my soul... and body."

Felix sobbed once more, clinging to his wife's body again. Inhaling your lavender scent, caressing your hair and letting his heart go out to her.

He felt at home.

And you felt loved.