#sigh. i probably will write it. probably wont post it.

[pyrriax]

yk what i just realized?

i accidentally wrote pandora with a slightly altered version of my issues pvnjkdml

i noticed it but not All of it

[triglycercule]

mtt therapy moment except dust keeps taking breaks to talk to phantom papyrus and horror just wants this to hurry up so it can get to his turn because he couldn't give two shits about dust and killer's trauma and killer physically cannot discuss his issues and just starts zoning out while crying for some reason during it

and i'm the therapist listening to all of this writing down notes fervently because ITS CANON MATERIAL CANON I NEED TO GET THE CANON MATERIAL

[mcybree]

Random limlife Scott rant, GO!

I got this ask and decided that I’d give it my best shot but got so mad on my skim through some of the moments I remembered that I gave up.

[koipalm]

the FICS that i would write if i didnt have to post on ao3 to get people to read them...

[hananono]

i think this site gets kind of obsessed with metaphors sometimes but forget that the metaphor is supposed to signify something so you get a bunch of posts that are trying to sound deep or poetic but dont actually mean much if you sit down and read them or youre like "wait this sucks ass actually. what are you even trying to say here" and the answer is nothing. ppl heard a thing that sounded cool and resonated with them but they couldnt figure out why and so just repeated it until it was just a series of words that sound deep or poetic or sexy or whatever at a glance

[dinogoofymutated]

Morph/GN!Reader It's a little late, and super short and not that in-depth, but I'll be honest, I've been on the struggle bus lol. I feel that Practical magic might have to hold on until after october, as I really want to post the secret surprise guest fic on halloween day and I'm worried I wont have enough time if not. Don't worry though! It should still be posted eventually.

You’ve always considered the rumors about your family’s witchy and magical past to be fictional, absolute nonsense. Well, you did, until you found yourself accidentally bound to someone who’s more or less your familiar. Neither of you particularly wants this, so you focus on whatever magical skills you managed to inherit on breaking the bond- but is that really what you want?

TWs: Incredibly inaccurate witchcraft and magic, misunderstandings, I'll add more if I think of any.

    “And you’re sure this will work?” You sigh at the sound of the voice, Morph sitting on your counter and kicking their feet back and forth as they watch you draw a chalk symbol on the floor. The lines are crooked and the symbol a little wonky, but it looks close enough to the one you saw on Google- you think.

    “Nope.”

    It’s been almost a week since the universe decided that you needed a new problem on your hands. One day you’re joking about the supposed magical past of your family line, then the next day you’re waking up at midnight to heavy vertigo, bright lights, and something- someone in your house. Not only had you jinxed yourself, you had put yourself through some kind of horror movie by walking through the dark house and faceplanting directly into a pale, lanky creature that you were sure you'd seen on some horror forum in the 2010s. Only, they weren’t just some creature. They were your creature. Your familiar, apparently. Like, witchy familiar- like black cats or owls or other creatures of the night- only you got stuck with a Changling, one who wasn't exactly thrilled about the situation, having enjoyed hundreds of years of freedom since being bound to another magic-user.

    “Really starting to doubt that you're an actual witch, you know.” They hum, hopping down from the counter and stretching their arms. You let out a long groan, running your hands through your hair before you plop down on one side of the circle.

    “That’s because I’m not!” You say, exasperated. “I don’t have a clue what I’m doing- and if anything I would expect the Fae-born changling to know more about this!” Morph only shrugs, which only aggravates you further.

    “Don’t hate the player, rookie, hate the game.”

    “Would you please sit down already?” 

    The instructions you follow make you feel stupid. You had everything that the “spell” or whatever it was required, but it was just so… cheesy. Every step you follow feels stereotypical and fake. You’re a hundred percent sure that it probably wasn't exactly common for witches and whatnot to sever the magical bond between themselves and their familiars,  but this wasn't really an average situation. You don’t want to use magic, or be a witch! And Morph doesn’t want to be stuck to you either! You can already see the hopeful glimmer in their eyes as the chalk circle begins to glow,  the writing on the sheet of paper you were using to guide you quickly following suit. The air begins to feel staticky, charged with magical energy. There’s a buzzy feeling underneath your skin, and the tension in the air begins to grow as the tea candles on the counter go out suddenly. There’s a moment of anticipation, and then a flash of blinding light. You close your eyes at the bright shine, feeling the buzzy feeling die down. There’s a silence in the air, and when you finally open your eyes… Morph is still there, tapping their fingers against the wood floor. They look a little disappointed, before giving you a smile that doesn't reach their eyes. 

    “Soooo, should we order takeout tonight?”

    “God damnit.”

    You go grocery shopping instead. While you're in the store, Morph is really helpful. You’ve only known them a day or two, but they are certainly living up to their title. You don’t really have to ask for help very much, sometimes they just do things you need, and other times you do ask them to do something (stupid tall shelves) and it’s almost like compassion for them to fulfill your requests. You don’t like that. Morph is still smiling, but you don’t think they like it either.

    Morph is… strange. Not in a regular way- and the constant changing and taking on new forms isn't exactly news to you, besides the fact you had been so sure changelings usually take on a single shape, but then again you didn’t exactly do a ton of research on that kind of mythology. You’re starting to think you should have, but that's aside from the point. Morph is actually really nice, and funny, and always manages to find a way to make you laugh. There are moments when it just feels so authentic and others that feel… hollow, almost. 

    As nice as it was to have company, the quest for a spell to sever the bond between you continued. Morph helps you find spellbooks at the library you had never known existed, stayed up late with you to find herbs and fungus that only grew at night, helped you make breakfast and drank wine with you on the weekends before laughing with you until morning. Months go by of this, and despite every failed spell or ritual, the air between you only settles, both of you relaxing into a new comfortable energy. They’re less stiff than they used to be, you noticed. they’re less afraid to make mistakes, and more likely to join you for company. 

    Eventually, Morph tells you about their sinister first master- if you can call the bastard that. It’s a serious moment, one you’re not likely to forget, but afterward, you find a new kind of appreciation for how comfortable they were in your home, and with you.

    From then on, things between you… change a bit. Something shifts. Morph is a lot more touchy with you, slinging an arm around your shoulders, draping themselves across you on the couch. Their jokes come off more genuine and less stiff- less of a defense than they were before. There’s newfound mutual trust, one that you start to enjoy.

    …But they still had to go home, right?

    You feel like every step closer you get to having the perfect spell mastered, something goes wrong. All these little nitpicky things that you had overlooked time and time again begin to wear on you, and with your growing fondness for Morph, it wears you down a little. You want them to say, but you don’t want to keep them here. Not against their wishes. Additionally, your new spellbooks and supplies-  hell, even the crystals you owned before any of this magic stuff surfaced had gone missing. You go to try another attempt, and time and time again, after not being able to find the key components you knew you had, you gave up and waited for another day. And then when you would find what you needed, something else would be missing instead. You have never felt so forgetful then you did while searching the house and having to get Morph to help you- because it really had to be you misplacing things, right?

    What was stranger was that Morph didn’t really care. They would laugh about it and shrug their arms and lightly make fun of you, but never made you feel too bad about it. You had felt so guilty every single time, knowing that you were keeping them here due to your own thoughtlessness- and the fact that you enjoyed them being here only made the guilt worsen. 

    Eventually, the time finally came when this foolproof spell you had been working on for so long was ready. 

    The room is lit by candles, the chalk on the floor almost glowing against the dark wood. There’s a small fire in the center of the circle, various crystals and things placed around in strategic patterns, and the air is buzzing with magic. You’ve recited these words so many times at this point you had it memorized, so focused on wrapping the twine rope to bind yourself and Morph’s wrists together you hardly see the way their face shifts, looking paler than ever. 

    “Are you sure this is going to work this time?” Morph asks, an unsteady tone to their voice. 

    “Well, we’ll know if the fire-” You don’t even have to finish your reply, as soon as the twine has been fully wound, only a string hanging down in the middle, the fire shifts in color, a wave of magic sweeping the room and every other candle and flame following suit. You look around in surprise, with this being the first time you’ve ever had that kind of reaction. It feels… good. The magic beneath your skin, the power and control you have over the elusive spell at your fingertips. And yet, you still can’t bring yourself to smile. 

    The fire beneath your wrists stretches, the flame flickering up to lick at the twine that hangs between you. This kind of flame won't burn the skin, only the rope, you remind yourself as you anxiously watch the fire grow. You can’t hear anything over your heart pounding in your ears, the twine burning slowly before it begins to pick up in speed. A wind begins to pick up in the room, candles flickering as the magic seems to become sucked into the binding as it burns. You’re too focused to really pay attention to Morph’s growing discomfort, but time is ticking, and you look up at them expectantly when they must speak their half of the spell, taking their power back for themself and rescinding your use of it.

    “Morph?” They don’t respond to their name, eyebrows furrowed as the flame burns more and more of the rope. You finally notice how nervous they look, heaving breaths and shaking shoulders. It’s all moving so fast, and they’re running out of time. The flame completely overtakes the twine when Morph suddenly shifts the size of their wrist, yanking it out of the binding. All of the air is sucked out of the room, the magic following suit as every flame returns to its normal color, and you can’t help but let out a screech as your wrist begins to burn. 

    “Shit! Sorry! Sorry! I’m so sorry.” Morph is rambling.  You’re desperately trying to get the rope off as they race off to the side, grabbing the bucket of emergency water you kept just in case something went wrong. You call their name in frustration, tears dotting your eyes as they grab your hands and plunge it into the water, quenching the fire.

    “Please, just don’t be mad!” They beg, but it’s a little late for that. Your growing anger is only amplified by the unbearable pain from the burn on your wrist.

    “Of course I’m mad!” You shout. “How can I not be?!” Tears are finally beginning to roll down your cheek, from the pain or the anger, you didn’t know. Morph is becoming frantic, running back over to the side to grab the first-aid kit before sitting down with it. You can’t bring yourself to take your wrist out of the cool water. They can’t seem to decide the best way to help you, either, hands reaching out to wipe your tears but retracting before they can touch your face.

    “I can’t- I’m sorry, I couldn’t-”

    “Why didn’t you just tell me?!” The words come out like a shout, and Morph flinches, looking ashamed. 

    “Do you have any Idea how hard this was for me?” You sob. “-To tap into whatever magic bullshit this all is, do all of these rituals and spells and have each one of them fail? Having to prepare myself for you to leave me over and over again?!” There’s a second of silence, Morph looking at you wide-eyed.

    “What?” Morph breathes, in absolute shock, still hovering by your side. You scoff at the question, taking your wrist out of the water to weakly punch at their chest.

    “You’re such an oblivious asshole!” Your arms are around them before they have a second to react, burning your face into their shoulder. Morph is frozen, stiff under you like they still haven't fully processed what was happening. You continue to cry into them, sobs and hiccups slowing while they begin to relax, wrapping their arms around you and burying their face into your hair.

    “Why didn’t you just tell me you wanted to stay?” The words are whispered and broken, but Morph only holds you tighter.

    “I… I thought you wanted me to go.” Morph mumbles. You shake your head, only curling into them further. They hold you back just as tight, and you know that the relief you’re feeling is mutual. 

    You sit together for a long, teary-eyed moment, breathing each other in.

    “So…” Morph breaks the silence. “Takeout?” You laugh, and it’s possibly the greatest sound they've ever heard.

    “Hell yeah.”

[spadecentral]

🍪 Bet On the Teleportation | Ace Trappola & Deuce Spade

>> event: race for the cookie cup by @theolivetree123 >> a/n: i got so excited to write this and now im scared to post it, but also this fan event is so cool yall should go check it out!!!

>> masterlist: twst >> summary: bets are stupid, but ace and deuce make one anyway >> reader prns: they/them >> warning(s): you are referred to as [name]

When the eight of you land inside the video game that Ace and Deuce were just competing over, you sigh. It's a nightmare already to keep Grim from eating anything, but now with the giant candies it's going to be hellish.

"What did you do, Juice?" Ace is peeved at Deuce, despite neither of them doing anything to trigger this kind of glitch.

Idia shivers momentarily, but you think it's just a cold front running down his spine and disregard it.

"There is no way you're gonna blame this on me!" Deuce responds. "If anything, you did it! Did you see how hard you were gripping the joystick?"

"No I didn't, because all I could see was my racecar ahead of yours!"

"[Name], what do you think?" Ace huffs, turning over to you for an answer.

"Nuh uh," you say as you grip tightly onto Grim's wiggling body. "You two aren't dragging me into this, I told y'all not to make that bet."

"Okay your opinion is void now," Ace rolls his eyes.

"Stop looking for pity points when you know I'm right," Deuce crosses his arms. "And I was beating you, not the other way around."

"Mhm, that's not what the pixels on that stupid screen were showing me," Ace retaliates, the sass in his voice unimaginable.

"Can you two please make up so we can get out of here," you groan.

"There's no way I'm making up with the person who got us here!" Deuce frowned.

"I am not gonna just reconcile with this dumbass!" Ace practically shouted.

"There has to be a way for the two of you to duke it out here so we can get on with it," Silver finally speaks up, over the initial stupor of teleportation.

All of the sudden, horns sound.

"All rise for our ruler, King Candy!" a guard yelled.

Finally looking anywhere other than the red- and blue-haired boys, you finally take in your surroundings and clothes fully. Racing attire? you question to yourself as a royal-looking man comes into view.

"Strange people of far-away lands!" he yells out. "I hear your need for justice and wish to hand it to you. Your need for a true winner resounds well in my heart, and I therefore grant you my honor in racing to victory! You may gather two teams—since there are so many of you—and compete in a race! Then you will know who the real winner is!"

"See, there we go," Ace says.

"There is no way..." you can hear Idia mumbling in the back.

"Alright! Let's get to it!" Deuce calls out, his signature smirk plastered on his face.

You frown, knowing the competitive nature of the both of them would probably do more hurt than good in the the long run. But who are you to stop them, they're teenage boys for Seven's sakes.

>> ace and deuce taglist: @tulipluvlettr | @strawberry-hyacinth | @oseathepebble | @wisteriainslumber

@villaim | @pastelmages | @xphantasmagoriax | @atlasnessie-archived | @divinesapph

@ze-maki-nin | @ezr4n | @l1vyatan | @savanaclaw1996 | @enigmatic-pers

@queerlordsimon | @kyraxiyn | @rayisalive | @monochromepalette | @she-wont-miss

[dwaekkicidal]

After Last Night

˚ʚI.N x Bang Chanɞ˚

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ summary: After an incident with Chan at the onsen, Jeongin realizes that he's not as small down there as he thought he was.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ word count: ~3.1k

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warnings: MxM content, bottom!Chan, top!I.N, big dick jeongin 😼, shy & lowkey pervy Chan, kinda cocky Jeongin?, sex in a public place but nobody sees or hears them (or do they?)

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ notes: I know I previously said I probably wouldn’t write “full” mxm content but max corrupted me (whats new) and I went a little feral.. Hehe. so I changed my mind; ill write it but it wont happen very often! :3

if you dont like this stuff then simply don't interact! also block the tag "#mxm" so you never see it from me <3

This was a lil collab I did with @chvnmax :3 go read her Felix ✗ I.N version!!

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

All members of Stray Kids were currently in Japan for a MV shooting. The day prior to the shooting they agreed to check into an onsen to unwind a little. They generally headed to the group-assigned onsen in pairs, but Jeongin was anxious to join them so it took him a little longer and he decided to walk alone. It wasn’t exactly that he was scared of being fully naked in front of the entire group, since they had all lived together at one point and they would all be naked anyways. It was more so the nervousness of one of his more recent body growths.

Over the years he had grown used to seeing the other men half-naked, but within the last year or so he realized that his lower area had grown quite a lot. The mixture working out and finally growing out of puberty had paid off, in ways that he wasn’t even aware that would be affected. He assumed that his hyungs would have had similar growths to him, and that he would still be smallest among them, like he was all those years ago. While he knew that nobody would make fun of him or point it out, he couldn’t help but be anxious at the thought of lingering eyes.

This is all the maknae could think about as he walked down the hallway, fiddling with the strings on his robe with each step. In no time he was at the makeshift fabric door, so he took a few breaths before stepping through and following the curved hallway to the outdoor, yet private, pool of water. He watched as a few heads turned to smile at him, some even beckoning him over before turning back around. When he thought no eyes were on him he slid off his robe and speed walked his way to the edge of the water, where a dry small towel waited for him. Of course it being courtesy of the dad of the group, making sure everyone was taken care of.

Speaking of the male, Jeongin watched from the corner of his eye as Chan’s eyes followed his movement, his jaw dropped a little in what Jeongin assumed (hoped) was awe. When he sat at the edge of the water and dipped his legs in, he finally turned to meet the eldest’s eyes. They both watched as each other’s cheeks heated up, and Chan blinked a few times before gulping visibly and sending the younger a shy smile. He bashfully mouthed a ‘sorry’ before turning around and splashing his face with water.

‘Not the kind of lingering eyes I expected…’ Jeongin thought to himself as he sank the rest of his body into the water, sighing happily at the warmth. As he felt his body relax, Jeongin's own eyes trailed around. He spared a few glances at his members before letting his eyes trail lower on some. He felt a little weird about it, but his curiosity got the best of him and he was desperate for some soothing thoughts.

He quickly looked at the roof before blinking a few times, not sure if what he was seeing was being altered by the water or if he was actually bigger than the hyungs he saw. He let the idea marinate in his head as he made himself focus on the conversation he was being pulled into.

After soaking in the warm water for a few hours, the boys got out and headed to their rooms in pairs again. This went on until eventually it was just Chan and Jeongin in the pool. Chan was leaned on the tiled edge with his head laid back and arms spread, as Jeongin sat on the staircase a few feet from him in a similar position.

Jeongin found himself watching water drip down the older’s handsome features, ogling at how sexy the man looked in the water. He always knew his hyungs were good looking, but seeing him this bare with water dripping down his body had blood rushing to his dick. He always had a little crush on his Channie-hyung, but he thought that as he grew older and as the dorms changed, his feelings would too.

He opted to lay his head back as well, taking deep breaths to try and calm the sudden heaviness between his legs. As he did so, Chan’s ears picked up what he thought was a heavy sigh of stress, so he naturally picked his head up to check on the maknae. When his eyes opened he was met with a drool worthy sight, the other boy dripping with water as his toned chest rose and fell. He couldn’t help as his eyes dipped lower, landing on the long and hard length that was out in the open as the younger sat with spread legs. He gulped again and bit his lip, zoning out slightly and trying to stop himself from drooling over his member’s penis size.

Suddenly remembering his goal, he ripped his eyes away and opened his mouth to speak. Though he quickly cut himself off when his eyes met the fox-like ones of the younger man. He laughed nervously and scratched the back of his head before mumbling out another “Sorry…”

“Listen, hyung, I know I might be a little smaller than you guys but you don’t have to stare..” Jeongin mumbled out, suddenly self-conscious under his gaze.

“Oh- Jeongin.. that’s not… what I was staring for… Sorry if I made you uncomfortable, but that wasn’t the reason I was staring” Chan nervously replied, taking a sudden interest in the leaves on the other side of the water. Anything to avoid his gaze.

“It’s not? Then why?”

“Haha… Jeongin.. You’re not exactly ‘small,’ man. I don’t know where you got that from. You’re probably the biggest out of all of us.” Chan laughed out, returning his gaze back to the younger and watching as his eyes widened. He tilted his head and laughed again, suddenly not feeling as embarrassed, “What? You thought that you were actually smaller than us? You’re fucking huge, mate. Seriously..”

Jeongin chuckled to himself but quickly got lost in thought as he watched the older boy rise up out of the water. He unintentionally caught sight of the other's length and realized he wasn’t lying, making him feel much better but a little flustered.

“Is that the reason you were staring?” He finally asked, watching as Chan walked over to the bench with his robe on it. He watched his shoulders tense up at the question, sitting in silence for an almost uncomfortable amount of time before he picked up his things and finally responded. “I mean…. Yeah?... Yes and no..” Jeongin let out a confused ‘Huh?’ at the statement, but before he could question him further Chan spoke out again. “Anyways… sorry about that… You should get out soon, it’s late and we have to be up early for the recording.” he said loudly as he wrapped himself in his robe and quickly left.

Jeongin watched as he walked out, the words hung for a while in the thick air before he eventually dragged himself out the water, heading to his own room to end his night.

The night passed fast and Jeongin quickly found himself in the junkyard with his other members. They’re dressed in more casual, black clothing and are running around being their loud, chaotic selves. After a few hours of shooting, the director called for a lunch break and said to return in an hour and a half. Some people left to find a local restaurant while others, namely the members and their manager, ordered for delivery. They ran around and played like children as Chan called the order in.

Jeongin was lost in thought as this went on. Throughout the shooting, he felt Chan’s eyes lingering on him. But anytime he would turn his head to meet his eyes, he would be met with Chan’s neck basically breaking as it snapped around, leaving nothing but his red ears and the back of his head being visible. This happened multiple times throughout the morning, so when the other members sat with each other to eat, Jeongin pulled him to the side to question him.

“Channie-hyung, are you okay? I’m sorry if last night made you uncomfortable.” Chan watched as a head or two turned when they overheard the question and he suddenly felt super nervous. He grumbled to himself as he grabbed the younger’s wrist and pulled him away, leading him between the cars to a more private area where prying ears and eyes couldn’t eavesdrop.

“Hey… nothing’s wrong, I’m sorry. I just have been a little distracted and I just so happen to keep zoning out while looking at you.” He finally responded, ears still bright red.

Jeongin let out a giggle at the statement, “Hyung… is my dick size that distracting?”

“What? N-No that’s not what-”

“Why else would you zone out looking at me so much? Especially after last night.” He said, taking a step closer. Chris sputtered as if he was tongue tied and took steps back until he felt his ass meet the trunk of a car. Jeongin smirked and with this new confidence, he stepped forward to close the distance between them. “You sure you’re okay, Hyung? You seem a little red in the face.” He asked with faux concern and an eyebrow raise. “Or maybe,  just maybe, all those long stares and lingering touches from you over the years weren’t a figment of my imagination? Hm?” He teased, ending his sentence with a head tilt as he leaned more into Chris. With his hands caging the shorter man, Jeongin could feel pride swelling in his chest at how flustered he managed to get his hyung.

“Iyen-ah..” Chris started, his eyes darting everywhere but the boy in front of him, “We shouldn’t talk about this here… let’s wait until we get back home, yeah?”

“Mmmm... normally I’d listen to you, hyung. But something’s poking against me right now and I really don’t think it’s the sushi rolls we ordered.” Jeongin slotted his leg between Chris’ thighs as he finished his sentence, pushing it into his bulge and biting his lip at the whimper he got in return. “Oh hyung… you’re a really bad liar haha.. If you like me that much just say so. I know I like you that much. Just look at how hard I am too.” Hearing this, Chris looked down and almost moaned at the sight of the younger’s bulge. His long dick was so obvious even through the black jeans he wore. Feeling his self control break at the seems, he cleared his throat and spoke up again. “My feelings don’t matter here, I have to be a good hyung and a good leader to my members. It’s my responsibility.”

“A ‘good hyung’..? Ahh. But. A ‘good hyung’ would help his members out, right? As should a ‘good maknae’. So let’s take care of each other. We can talk more tonight at the hotel or once we’re home, like you said.” Jeongin whispered into his ear, his hand slowly trailing from the spot on the car, to Chris’ hips, before finally grabbing at his bulge and palming it. “Or. If you don’t want this, you tell me now and we move on. Act like nothing happened... Deal?” The man under him moaned quietly at the contact before biting his lip trying to stay silent. After a few seconds he finally looked up to the boy and nodded. ‘Fuck why does he feel so tall all of the sudden.’

“Words, hyung.” Jeongin said sternly, tightening his grip before letting go completely and playing with the zipper on his pants.

“Fuck. Yes, Jeongin, please touch me.” He whined out, feeling embarrassed at the disparity in his voice, though this feeling was quickly forgotten once his pants were undone and pulled down his hips alongside his boxers. They lingered at his thighs as Jeongin’s big hand grabbed at his length, pumping it as he pulled his own jeans and boxers down. Their dicks stood against each other as Jeongin gathered his saliva, spitting it onto where their dicks met and pumping them together. His hand almost completely covered their combined width, and the sight had Chan whimpering with his head thrown back.

Jeongin’s hand grabbed his chin and pulled them to be face to face, lips mere inches from each other. He gave it a few seconds to let him pull away if he didn’t want it, but when Chan’s head leaned forward, his quickly followed. Their lips met in a sloppy kiss and they moaned into each other's mouth with every pump from Jeongin.

Once he felt himself getting close and the suddenly shaky legs from the other man, Jeongin’s movements slowed down almost completely and he pulled away from the kiss, panting as their foreheads stayed connected. “How far are we going, hyung? You gonna let me fuck you here, against this car, or should we end it fast and go back to the others?”

“God.. fuck me please..” He moaned in response as his hips bucked into Jeongin’s hand, desperate for a faster pace. His hand pulled away completely and he was swiftly turned around. Jeongin’s clean hand rested between his shoulder blades and pushed him down onto the car as he hissed at the cold metal.

“Let me get you ready then, yeah? Fucking you raw is one thing, but fucking you unprepared is a whole other one.” He said breathlessly as his hands spread Chan’s ass cheeks, thumb teasing his hole. He spat once more, directly aiming for it and rubbing it in with his thumb before his pointer finger finally pushed in.

“You don’t have to do much… fucked myself last night a little bit…” Chan groaned against the car. Jeongin’s eyes rolled into the back of his head as he realized he wasn’t kidding. His finger moved around with no resistance and he moaned at the sight of his 2nd finger pushing in, being met with barely any resistance.

“Fuck.. hyung..” He whined, “What, did you fuck yourself with your fingers at the thought my dick?” When the older only answered with a muffled moan into his jacket, he couldn’t help moan at the thought and add a third finger into the mix, finally feeling more resistance.

After a short time of stretching him out, Jeongin pulled his fingers out and spit a few times on his own dick, rubbing it in and trying to make it as wet as possible. After teasing Chan’s hole for too long and getting an annoyed ‘Jeongin..” from the man below him, he finally pushed inside.

“Ugh… stretch you out with 3 fingers and you’re still so tight.. Relax, hyung. Nobody’s gonna catch us I promise..”

After giving him time to adjust and relax, Jeongin gave some test thrusts. He grinned at the desperate moans falling out the other’s thick lips and set a nice pace. Once he heard his name in between moans, it only spurred him on. He grabbed Chan by his shoulder, pulling him back to chest with himself and speeding up his pace. With this position, he easily pounded into the older’s prostate, and it was made pretty obvious by the whiny moans he was starting to hear.

“Hah.. You’re so loud, hyung. The others are gonna hear you if you’re not careful.” He teased, lifting his hand to hold a palm over Chan’s mouth. “I know it feels good but if somebody finds out, we’re gonna have to stop. And you don’t want that, do you?” When the older man whined into his hand and shook his head, he chuckled to himself and kept up the pace. He kept it just fast enough to faintly hear their skin slapping together but not enough so that their members could hear it.

Trying to keep himself quiet, Jeongin nibbled and left kisses against his throat, leading them up to his jawline. He bit a little too hard after Chan tightened suddenly and he heard a loud moan against his hand. He smirked against the skin and found himself biting more often and harder each time. It wasn’t long before the grip around his dick was tighter and more frequent, so Jeongin removed his hands to push him back against the car. They quickly planted themselves on both sides of his hips as he sped up his thrusts, pounding into the man below him at a rougher pace.

For a while, his eyes were trained at the area they connected, but a sudden movement caught his eye and he forced himself to look away. He was met with the sight of Chris’ cheek being squished against the trunk, one hand spread out against the metal as the other rested near his face. His eyes focused on the teeth locked onto his finger and the drool falling against the metal of the trunk.

He moaned at the sight and leaned forward with newfound vigor, reaching one of his hands beneath them to stroke Chan's length. Within seconds Chan's cumming, shooting onto the pebble-ridden dirt as his hand moved to completely cover his mouth, desperate to hide his loud whines. After finishing him off, Jeongin pulled his hand away and made a show to lick up the bits that his fingers came into contact with.

Chris would’ve moaned at the sight if it weren’t for the new, bullying, pace that the maknae set.

“F-Fuck Jeongin, I can’t a-anymore-” He moan-whispered, trying to keep quiet while the gummy spot in him got roughly pounded.

“I k-know hyung.. Just a little longer I promise. Let me use you for a second, okay?” When the older nodded and bit into his palm, Jeongin leaned back and reveled in the constant tightness around his dick. By the time Chan was almost crying at the combined stimulation and pace, Jeongin was finally cumming, opting to pull out and push Chan further against the car so that neither of their clothes got dirty. He let out low moans as he fisted himself through his high, unconsciously massaging the hip where his free hand rested.

As the last spurts hit the ground, they heard a distant voice calling for them: “Channie-hyung! Iyen-ah! Shooting continues in 10!”

They both took a few minutes to catch their breaths as Jeongin pulled both of their pants back up, even fixing Chan’s shirt from where it had risen slightly. Their eyes met and Chan laughed in disbelief. “Sorry hyung, I got a little carried away.”  Still a little out of breath, the older took a deep breath before replying, “Yeah… we both did… I promise we’ll talk about this properly later tonight.”

With a nod from the younger, they fixed their posture and started heading out of the cubby area. Before they would be in line of sight of the other members, Chan pulled Jeongin by his collar into another kiss. One that was way less sloppy and way more passionate than the first. Before it got too heated they pulled away from each other, sharing a smile before returning to the rest of the group.

They both reluctantly continued shooing hungry, thankful for the water they were offered at least. But with the newfound feeling in their stomachs and the common stares they gave each other, neither of them could really find it in them to complain.

[j1mmys-darl1ng]

do you write for austin sommers? i’d love a period sex austin fic if it’s something your comfortable with <3

October 2nd - austin sommers smut

Pairing : Austin sommers x reader

Warnings : period oral, just periods in general, consumption of period blood

A/n : some people might find this disgusting but austin has needs too 🤷‍♀️ also day 1 of my october fics! (posting a fic every other day)

"hey.. You alright?" you hear Austin ask, your body curled up as your cramps kick your ass.

"mhm" is all you manage to grunt. "im fine.. Just cramps"

"well.. Y'know... I heard that orgasming can help like... Soothe them.. Or whatever" he says, trying to seem nonchalant. "and you know me.. I have needs too"

You can see the cheeky smirk set on his lips, imediately knowing what hes thinking of.

"but theres gonna be alot of blood... I dont want you to get... Messy" you had a thing for overdramatising stuff and austin knew. But that wouldn't stop him from shutting you up with a deep kiss.

"just shut up and let me work my magic" he whispers in your ear, his lips trailing down your neck.

His face soon gets to your heat, pulling down your shorts and underwear.

Without a single warning, he connects his mouth to your clit, his tounge occasionally slipping lower and getting teasing tastes of your blood.

".. Mmmmh... This is really what i needed" he mumbles into your pussy, moving his mouth slightly more so hes now just making out with your heat, trying to consume as much of the crimson liquid as he can.

Your hips subtly move against his face, needing more than just gentle movements.

You see him look up at you, smirking with his bloody mouth. "good girl, i promise you'll get what you want.. Just give me a little longer" he mumbles as he slips his tounge inside your hole, teasing you slightly.

"please.. I dont wanna wait any longer..." your eyes meet his, your voice pleading. Your hips are restless againsy his face but finally he gets up, hasily unbuckling his trousers and dropping his boxers to the floor.

"such a shame all this blood is gonna have to go to waste..." he sighs, slowly pushing himself inside you.

His hips begin slowly push his length deeper inside, trying to start off gentle. You can tell it wont last long. He probably wont last long.

As you suspected, his hips begin to snap back and fourth at a fast pace, pausing only to bend you over the bed instead.

You can feel the multiple stinging sensations of the multiple glowing red slap imprints on your backside but it all blends into pleasure soon enough. You begin to follow his thrusts, your legs begining to quiver as you feel the knot forming in your stomach.

Your walls start to contract around his cock, his climax also approaching like an oncumming train.

Not even a minute later, your vocals prouduce a long string of squeaky, whimpery moans. Austin follows along soon after, a few grunts slipping through his lips.

"... Mmm.. You did so good.. I hope my theory was right" he mumbles with a satisfied grin, patting your stomach gently.

God. That's gonna be a mess to clean up.

A/n: ive honestly never written an austin fic let alone read one so im sorry for mischarecterisation! This is also the first fic ive written on the app so im just tryna get used to that

Thanks for reading <3

[heartssatoru]

How about JJK men(Gojo, Megumi, Nanaimo,Itadori and Toge if possible) how they react to a fight with their s/o!

Of course! Toge is also one I can do! Thank you for the request <3

Characters: Gojo, megumi, nanami, itadori, sukuna, and toge!

warnings: none, but angst to fluff, kinda suggestive on sukunas part. Also not proofread!

On request, don't forget to ask if you want fluff, angst, or even smut! I prefer hcs but it's fine if you don't want that, just don't expect much from me on there😭

Also, I noticed that you had put nanami, i don't know at all how to write for him! I'm really sorry, I've rewatched jujutsu kaisen multiple times and I still don't really know😭 please forgive me on that part🙏

Gojo:

Tells you you're being dramatic, which only causes the argument to get worse.

Thinks that he's the one being mature in this argument

He really just wants for this to end, but he doesn't realize he's pissing you off even more

Or maybe he does

Tries to end it, because he hates arguing with you. He always feels guilty

Even if he started it

As soon as you start giving him silent treatment he feels bad

But tries to ignore it because he thinks you'll probably stop

He thinks your gonna end up coming to him

If you don't then he'll whine out apologies, especially if it means no more cuddles for him

If you ignore him more than he's sigh dramatically

Either scoops you up in his arms, or buys you stuff then scoops you up in arms

There's really no way to avoid him😭

Megumi:

Why are you mad at him? Let alone arguing??

kinda just stares at you and stays silent, cause he doesn't know what to say

Also he doesn't want the argument to get worse. So he just stands there

Probably doesn't really care, because he thinks that you'll calm down

If you don't however

He doesn't really know what to do. And is clueless because he doesn't want to upset you even more

Apologizes once and then tries to act like as if nothing happened

You'll let him off this time

Itadori

Says little mean things back, just not really rude. Because he doesn't wanna hurt your feelings

Goofs around especially if he doesn't know why your arguing.

But If your dead serious he'll stop, he doesn't really like seeing you angry

It scares him a bit

Sukuna will probably insult you too but ignore him please 😭

Genuinely will apologize and try to make up because he hates being yelled at

Probably had tears in his eyes when you were yelling

Sukuna:

Laughs at you, whats your problem this time??

Oh what, is it because he's insulting you? Hes just like that

Was it his jokes? Their just jokes, for the time being so why so upset??

Even though he finds it amusing, calm down. Its kinda annoying to him

don't really expect much from this man, most likely puts you in your place before anything else happens

Also because he refuses to take disrespect from a human. Thats disgusting

And if you have the guts to try and argue with him, so be it!

He wont kill you don't worry. Thats far from his mind, but will make you apologize one way or another

Toge:

Feels bad and doesn't know what to do, especially because he can't talk

You guys probably argue on messages or something😭😭

Whatever the reason is he trys to explain

His hands all sweaty and him texting all fast. Tries to get you to feel better on text

Probably spams you with apologies, poor boy. And plus he doesn't like seeing you angry

Gives you personal space, times like these make him feel especially bad because he can't try and talk

And after a bit he'll message you asking you if your okay

If you are he'll take you out because he still feels bad about the argument

Edit: hi! I know some people have liked this post but before so, I put sukuna instead of toge. It was 11PM so I apologize on that part! (I just now realized I didn't do toge and rushed on his part) also my apologies with toge, my auto correct makes his name "together"

[theyanderebin]

Yantober Day 10! Love Triangle!

This, this got away from me a bit which is why it's being posted four days after or something.

I had these idiots thought up for a while and figured why not use them?! They went running and kept running.

I don't think i've ever managed to write a thing over like max 1.5k words before so this is new!

(As per the usual prompt is from @ozzgin's yantober list which you can find here!)

It's about 3.7k words!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You sat in the booth of the diner, scrolling through your phone on a worn seat with a loud pattern. Glancing at the time. He was late. It's only been ten minutes. "Maybe it's just bad traffic.." you thought, reassuring yourself. "Yeah." Putting your phone down, you began to peruse the simple drinks menu, reading each and every option and it's blurb. Your eyes started to dart up at every jingle of the door, your heart sinking a little more each time it wasn't the person you wanted to see. A waitress had come over to ask you if you were ready to order, maybe once or twice. The second time she couldn't even hide the sympathetic look in her eyes and almost a pitying tone. You'd denied both times, as politely as you could. It had been almost half an hour… "Maybe i just order food and get out of here.." Picking up a menu, not even bothering to look up from it's pages at the chime of the door. Or at the swiftly moving sets of footsteps approaching your side of the room.

There was a dull thud on the seat across from you, someone was muttering although you couldn't quite catch the details. Something about not doing that. You looked up to see two dull pink haired men across from you, the slimmer one of the two trying to pull away the other, a frantic look on his face. His distressed hissing stopped quickly when you looked up and he simply stared at you with wide eyes, not unlike a deer in traffic. Rolling his eyes at the man trying to drag him out of his seat. "Would you shut up." "You-" The shorter haired one spat. "Uh… what?" You said in bland confusion. His eyes landed back on you quickly, something about the coldness in them made a shiver creep across your body. "You looked like you needed company, so i came over." He shrugged blandly. "Right… Well i was waiting for someone so.." Glancing in the direction of the open diner floor, silently telling them both to go. "Oh." He leaned on the table long pink hair draping over his shoulder. The other resumed trying to frantically drag him off. hissing out various words of disagreement. "Jesus fucking-" He shoved him off, "Would you piss off? I'm trying to have a conversation!" "Your going to scare them, you asshole." He snapped back, the one visible eye narrowing, the other hidden under a blunt cut fringe. "Just because you're a pussy doesn't mean everyone else is." "You realise nobody talks to you because you're a dick, right?"He really tried to pull him out of the seat this time, it almost worked. "So you can- you can just go home because they wont either. Your conversation isn't going to happen." Your eyes simply darted between them as you sat, pressing yourself further into the cushion of the booth seat while they continued to argue. You probably couldn't get out if you wanted to, you'd have to go past them. Catching bits and pieces of their bickering, you figured out they were brothers. Clearly, they did not get along.

Their argument got the taller of the two quickly kicked, which he audibly seethed about despite the fact he did walk out the door. The man near your table sighed with relief. "Uh- i.. I'm so sorry…" He flashed an awkward apologetic smile, "He's um… A lot." he fidgeted with his hands. "Right… why did you turn up..?" You glanced out the front window, his brother still outside, glaring straight through the window from across the street. "Oh! well… i guess he wasn't lying when he said he thought you looked lonely.." He pulled a small notebook out of his pocket, scrawling something on it quickly "He did.. i just, i thought he'd be a little much so i tried to slow him down a bit… but- that didn't really work. Obviously." "Yeah." You said watching him awkwardly slide a piece of paper over to you. "I'm really sorry.. but if you ever need someone to hang around. Um… That- That's my number…" He trailed off. You looked down at the note, on it was written his number and 'Hi, I'm Noe.' in a shaky scrawl. "You don't have to do anything with it, i just thought that maybe, well… Since we kind of seem like we ruined whatever dinner you were having that i could.." He swallowed, "Maybe make it up to you by buying you dinner sometime.. If you want! You don't have to, of course! But i just thought i'd-" "Uh_' You cut him off quickly, honestly convinced if you let him go on he'd sputter out words forever. "I'll think about it." "Oh!" He squeaked, "Oh okay… Sorry to.. to bother you." "It's fine.. i guess. My night wasn't going too well anyway.." Head resting in your palm as you stared up at him. "Ah.. that sucks. I hope it gets better for you though." He stepped away, "I should probably go… cause he was my ride and.. well he's gonna get pissy if i stay any longer.." "He sounds fun to deal with." Noe let out a small, bitter laugh at your bland sarcasm. " A real treat.." He waved a little as he walked out the building. You sighed, putting your head on the table, granting yourself a few minutes before ordering yourself a coke and leaving.

It had been a few days since your diner 'incident' and you laid in bed half buried under a mass of blankets in a dim room, the only light coming in from the setting sun just out of sight from your window. Still nothing from the boy you had actually wanted to see, no message for why he didn't show, no inkling he had lost interest, not even a hi or even a single letter. "Is he ghosting me..?" You thought, rolling onto your side. "This seriously sucks." looking past your phone and in the direction of your doorway, your gaze fell upon something as the sour loneliness festered inside your body. A small piece of paper you'd left on top of your bedside table. You stared at it for a moment. Reaching for it and holding it over your face. The note from Noe. "I mean i could give it a shot.." Swiping open your contacts, punching in the number. "It couldn't hurt, right?" You added the contact to your list, mulling over how exactly you should open this. "I mean sure his brother was kind of… a lot.. but he was kinda sweet, in a weird awkward way… That was still sweet though, so!" Typing out a quick message.

"Hey, you gave me your number at a diner a few days ago, Just thought i'd shoot a text to see if you wanna chat some time :)."

"Oh hi! yeah, it'd be cool to chat :D!" "Whenever you're free is cool!"

"Great" You added, unsure what else to say.

Unaware that in his own room nestled under more blankets than you could imagine was Noe, a odd grin spread across his soft face like a gash, small elated giggles escaping his lips as he stared down at the screen of his phone in the dark.

A couple of weeks go by, texting back and forth with Noe, you got to find out a few things about him. How much he likes sour candies, the way h pets every stray cat that lets him. There was a day where you were on call with him while he made himself some breakfast. Getting to listen to him mumble and mutter. "How do you do your eggs?" He asked at some point, as you heard pan sizzling in the background, "I like it when they're still a bit runny.." "Hm.." You hummed thoughtfully, "Well if i want eggs, i usually go for an omelette.. With like ham and green onion and shit." "Ooh.. That does sound good." He mentally noted your egg preferences and slid that into a file in his brain. "Mm, i put hot sauce on it." "Oh nice!" He chirped, you could just hear the egg flip in the pan. "What one do you like?" "Hm.. like a bit of tabasco, sometimes." You could hear him hum in agreement. This was how you spent a lot of your time for those weeks.

The sun felt nice on your skin, the day was pleasant, warm but the breeze was cool enough to keep you at a comfortable temperature. You'd made plans, with Noe. It had taken… many weeks. But! You were doing it! Finally. You were sat outside a cafe, enjoying the weather. Not bothering to even glance at your phone, the time would start making you anxious. There was no point in doing that, i mean he was so sweet. That and it was hard to believe he would skip out on anyone like that. So you waited. And waited a little more. And a little more- "Oh.. okay.." You sighed quietly. Honestly, what is with men and doing this to you? You were almost going to leave. Footsteps approached quickly

"He's sick." You looked up from your bag and low key almost shit yourself. Why? Because you looked up to find Jace, standing almost a little too close to you. "Oh?" You breathed, "Why… Why are you here? He could've like- like texted me." "His phone's dead cause he's an idiot who didn't charge it." "Right.. You're here because?" "Because I'm telling you." His expression changed minorly, like he was thinking about something. You weren't sure if it was a normal thing or if he wanted to murder you. "And also cause i wanted apologise or some shit." "Huh?" You blinked, brows furrowing in confusion. He's clearly off to a great start with the apology 'or some shit' here. "For fucking up your goddamn dinner or whatever." "Ah. Well, it was literally like over a month ago. I think I'll live." You almost saw his jaw tense. You did however see his eyes narrow, stepping back a little. "So you know, it.. it's uh.. It's all good!" "Well. You're already here. So don't just waste your time and leave. Let me get you something." Which honestly sounded less like a request and more like he was telling you this was going to happen. "I mean.. sure, i guess… I am already here." You smiled awkwardly.

So you let him buy you food, like hell you were gonna turn down a free meal! You sat in a wooden chair across a small round table from him. Too enraptured in shoveling food into your mouth to notice the fact his eyes had only left you once or twice, to shoot a deadly glare at someone who'd let their eyes linger over you for a little too long. He hadn't even ordered himself food, simply a single coffee that he sipped at silently. "Give me your number or something." He said, breaking the silence. "Huh?" You blinked mouth half full. "Give me your number, so i can text you if he decides to be fucking dumb and not show up." "Oh." hand shuffling through your bag, stopping quickly when you heard a light slap on the table. A small red notebook and a black pen he'd tossed onto the table. "I guess it'd be helpful.." You thought, "Having another person to tell me stuff he can't would probably make him feel better, right?" Scribbling down your number onto the lined page, you slid both items back towards him. "Cool." He swiped the notebook off of the table and slipped it into the pocket of his dark grey jacket.

Faster than you knew it Jace had also wormed his way into your life.. Or well. It was really more like a bulldozer, he was rather loud. You'd thought Noe texted you frequently but as the days passed you were starting to feel like he might be doing it more than his brother. Maybe it was just novelty? Or at least that's what you'd think when really, his body started burning at the thought of you talking to anyone else, so he texted you more than daily. He had to. You needed to be kept away from every bastard out there. They'd break your poor little heart, just like the one who left you all alone at that diner. The mental image of someone leaving you there in that booth all alone, the sad look in your eyes, the way you kept glancing up so hopefully, the fact someone left you there like that made his blood boil in record time. There was practically nothing he wouldn't do to stop that from happening, even if it meant stopping people from talking to you in the first place. But… he couldn't yet. As much as it frustrated him. You had to let him in before he could keep anyone out. And unfortunately his idiot little brother had crawled his way into a corner in your heart, he knew he wouldn't get out. The little bastard had settled.

So many of your days were spent, with near constant attention from both of them, which was nice but.. how much was too much? You weren't sure but it was getting there. You couldn't just talk to them and only them! So you gave it another shot, tried to put yourself out there again. Even if it doesn't go well, surely it'll be fine right? You tried and tried, eventually, you found a match. Someone you could talk to, almost endlessly. So much so in fact you forgot to text Jace and Noe back more often than not. It was tearing the both of them apart, you didn't even know it.

Both of them trying desperately to find out what was taking up your precious time. Neither of them particularly getting anywhere alone. The frequent and frantic, fruitless hunts. Reducing Noe to more and more tears while you left him alone and unable to figure out why despite his desperate attempts to find out where it was you'd gone to. Jace on the other hand, was purely burning up because clearly the only reason you'd end up wandering off was if some piece of shit idiot, he knew where you would go but he couldn't go look. If he did, he'd probably end up punching whoever was wasting your precious time right in their shitty little mouth and that just wouldn't look good. Even he had enough awareness to know that much. They just had to do something about it, they had to bring you back! They had to bring you home. There was enough room at home, it was a four bedroom house, you could take the spare room!

Noe after a lengthy session of desperately trying to figure out your plans, hell he even asked if you were doing anything fun today, you didn't answer… He had barely even gotten to hang out with you and you were already leaving him behind. "Not fair.." He mumbled, sniffling and stabbing at a slightly burnt omelette in the fry pan, "You can't just leave…" Stab. "We barely even got to talk…" Stab. "I wanted to talk more.." Stab. "The fuck- are you still crying?" Jace sighed irritably grabbing a can out of the fridge. "Well i'm sorry i actually care about shit." He wetly fired back, dumping a slightly scrambled omelette onto a plate. "Oh piss off!" The can hit the counter, it's contents splashing over the counter top. "Don't act like i don't give a shit about anything! Who's the fucking reason you're even here!?" Noe's eyes shot back down to his sad, sad omelette and he dropped some green onions on top of it. "Maybe you could act like it for once.." he said under his breath. Jace audibly groaned, snatching his drink off of the counter, quickly doing a double take. "The hell is this?" His brother looked over. "Huh?" He blinked, watching Jace pick up a small square of paper? No, it was a photo. One single photo, of you. Sat comfortably at a restaurant with the most precious of smiles. The unfortunate part was, that smile was directed at someone sitting across from you, looking almost equally as content. The both of them stared at the photo in a moment of silence. "I'm gonna kill that fucker…" Jace hissed. "I feel like if you do that they're gonna notice…" "Shut up." "I'm just saying! Wouldn't be better to get them here?" "And how the hell do we do that?" "I can probably find something…" He swallowed, "There's a bunch of stuff you can just buy…" "Right… what then? We just share?" "I mean…" Fidgeting with his hands Noe said, "Would you rather leave them out there for someone else to get their hands on?" Jace grumbled, "God! Fine." "Okay!" He chirped skittering away from his brother. Sliding past the other in the hallway as he went to go look up a few things. Jace stood there and bitched to himself for a moment and then went to go look at where you were.

It took them both a few days to find out where exactly your next little meet up with your 'friend' was, a cosy little bar. A marked improvement on their previous efforts, even despite their near constant arguing. They pulled together a little plan to get you home with them. Noe, got sent in to quietly slip something into your drink while you weren't looking. He dipped into the building and stealthily dropped something into your drink, it barely even bubbled. All he had to do now was distract your little date and convince you to get outside.

You sat atop a tall bar stool sipping at your drink, your date having left to use the bathroom. "Um.. Hi." Your head whipped to the side, only to find Noe stood there, small awkward smile on his soft face as he waved a little. "Oh shit, hey." You grinned at him and his heart leapt into his throat, he had to swallow it. "What're you doin' here?" You cocked your head sideways. "Oh! Uh.. I just wanted to get a drink.. that's all.. And then i saw you." "Ahh.." Humming as you felt yourself get a little dizzy. You tried to blink it away, it didn't really go anywhere. If anything, the second your eyelids started to close it started to get harder to pull them back up. "H-hey.. are you.. are you okay?" He asked, gently stabilising you as you wobbled on your stool. "I- uh.. i.." You took a deep breath, "Oof… I think i gotta get air.." "Oh! okay do you want any help?" "Nah.. Nah I'm goood.." You slid off of your bar stool, words trailing off. You left him there, standing next to the bar, blinking.

You wandered your way outside, letting the cool air outside hit your warm skin. You let out a sigh, feeling less dizzy but still.. so sleepy… So you found a nook in the side of the building to sit yourself down on, you sat with a soft groan. Head beginning to loll to the side ever so slightly. Your eyes darting up as you heard, "The fuck are you doing down there dumbass." "Oh.. hi.." You blinked up drowsily at Jace. "Your gonna get yourself fuckin killed like this, idiot." He hissed pulling you up with ease. "Oh!" You squawked. "Geez… C'mon, let's get your sorry ass home." "Okay.." You agreed, far too out of it to question whether or not it made sense for him to know where you lived. He half carried you to a car down the block, pushing you into the back seat, buckling you in and closing the door as Noe hopped into the seat next to you. You fell asleep as he drove, too quickly to notice this wasn't the right direction, if you even would've with how much booze was in your system with the drugs. He rolled his eyes as he looked back in the rear-view mirror to see Noe quietly petting your hair, content little smile on his face. "Yeah alright brat you can have this one.." He thought, turning down the street.

Noe pushed open the door while Jace carried you inside, walking down the hallway as his brother skittered ahead excitedly to your new room. "Oh? You brought company home?" A voice trilled out from the lounge room as he passed it. He glanced over at his brother, deeming only to respond with a grunt. Theo Slinked his way over, a calm smile resting on his face "Well look at them, aren't they cute.." Jace sighed, shifting you in his arms. "Mhm…" "See, now isn't everything easier if you work together..?" He hummed, gently petting you on the head. "You fucking suck." He grumbled, shifting away from his brother and towards your room. "Of course.." Theo huffed in amusement, His thin frame shaking slightly. He pushed up his glasses "I'll leave you to it, then?" Jace walked away.

Heading into your room he found Noe, having already pulled back the soft pastel covers on the bed. Carefully setting you underneath them, Noe very quickly tucked them around you. They both stared silently at your quietly breathing form, simply taking in the fact you were here. "You know, we have to share with him too." Jace said, pushing hair out his face. "Yeah. I kinda figured.." Noe hummed. "But i think I'd rather that than anyone else.." "Even if he's a smug shit?" "I don't know if I'd call him smug…" "I would," "You would." Noe said blandly. "Where d'you think he got the photo?" "Mmm… Don't know. Don't care." Jace pushed a strand of hair out of your face as you slept. "C'mon, get the fuck out." Noe sighed "You get out." "I am, prick." He spat back. Both of them shuffled out of the room, and let you sleep quietly in a bed, they'd gotten just for you.

[ev3rgreenxtrees]

could you write a nick x ftm!reader? something like the reader sees a bunch of hate comments about him and nick comforts him? (if not that’s totally ok)

,,My Boy’’

-N.S

Synopsis: You and Nick have been dating for a long time now, and you finally agree to be in one of the boy’s videos. Nick introduces you as his boyfriend, and the viewers find out you are trans. Some don’t respond the best to this, but Nick is there to comfort you.

pairing: bf!nick sturniolo (he/him) X trans ftm!reader (he/him)

warnings: homophobia, transphobia, panic attack, gender dysphoria, body dysphoria, cyber bullying, threats, harassment, homophobic & transphobic slurs (i promise i can say them. id never EVER say a slur i couldnt!!) and i think thats all! please let me know if i missed one <3

requested?: yes!

back to: masterlist

—FIRST PERSON POV—

After Nick constantly asking me if I was positive I don’t want to finally be in one of the triplets videos, I reluctantly agree.

I have been dating nick for around eight months, and we have kept our relationship a ‘secret’, for these past eight months, and i finally agreed to be in a video.

Matt got back into the car, shutting the door behind himself. Nick smiled at me, before speaking up.

“Welcome back, everybody! Today, we have a special guest, my boyfriend, y/n!” Nick boasts. I love how he openly called me his boyfriend, but i was worried. were his fans going to find out?

Sure they would, but would they care? probably. I passed well enough to be called a male in public, but whenever people care enough, like the Sturniolos fanbase, they will look for all my socials, and they’ll know.

A million thoughts ran through my head, but they were all cleared out once I heard Nick call my name again.

“Y/n? babe? you okay?” he asked, shaking my shoulder gently.

“hm? oh- yeah. sorry. i zoned out,” i chuckled a little. “could you repeat the question?” i asked, and nick complied.

The rest of the video went by pretty smoothly, since I was occupied with thinking deeply at all the odd questions Nick was asking us, and laughing at the out of pocket jokes from matt and chris.

We recorded for about an hour more, knowing that more than half of the footage would just be cut out in editing. Matt screeched into the camera, before shutting it off, and handing it to Nick, and starting the car.

Matt drove all of us to the triplets house, since I just stayed there often with them anyways. we walked inside, and Nick and I went up to his room to edit the video.

I caught myself giggling at the stupid jokes and the annoying bickering, but I cant lie, we’re pretty funny.

“this video has to be posted today,” Nick sighed, only a little bit into the editing. “I hate it when they wont film until the ‘night’ of. It’s 2:34 AM, and the video needs to be up by 4:30..” Nick sighed.

He looked over at me, noticing i was growing increasingly more tired.

“get some sleep, baby.” Nick smiled, kissing my forehead. I complied, before crawling into his bed, falling asleep there.

I woke up again, and it just so happened to be 5:00 PM, somehow. I always sleep throughout the whole day, so i wasn’t really surprised.

I yawned, before staying in Nick’s bed, allowing myself to wake up. I checked my phone, which normally has none to five notifications, but this time, i had well over a thousand.

My eyebrows furrowed; and i quickly shot up. I scrolled through the notifs, to see comments on my old instagram and tiktok posts,

“Awe! Nick’s boyfriend is so cute!”

|_ “replying to : @— ‘boyfriend? i thought nick was gay. this is disgusting.’”

“That’s gross. She changed her name and claimed to be a boy. Fucking gross. Grow up.”

|_ “replying to : @— ‘HE is a boy. He always has been, he just realized it, and is now brave enough to show it. let him be.’”

“Thats not even a boy💀”

“Nick could’ve done so much better and actually got himself a big strong MAN.”

“shes so ugly wth.”

“Nick needs to realize that he could do so much better than her. he needs to raise his standards because what the fuck.”

“guys, her name is y/d/n, not y/n!”

Each comment broke my heart. Sure, there were a few sweet ones, supporting nick and i, but the horrible degrading ones outweigh those by a long shot.

I felt my eyes start to water as i scrolled through the comments. I didn’t want to see them, but i couldn’t stop looking.

I felt the tears start to roll down my cheeks, as i looked through the comments.

I stopped looking through comments i was tagged in, and began looking through my instagram DM’s. Fuck. These were worse.

“kill yourself you stupid fag.”

“nick doesn’t want you, tranny.”

“kill yourself before i kill you.”

“don’t corrupt nick you disgusting freak.”

“i promise you, nick hates you.”

“why’d he pick you. he could’ve had me😂”

I let out small silent sobs, throwing my phone on the ground. I heard a pair of feet running up the stairs to Nick’s room, before the door flew open.

“shit- what happened? fuck, y/n, whats wrong?” Chris’ eyes widened as he saw the scene in front of him. My phone broken on the floor, and i was sobbing into my knees on Nick’s bed.

I nodded, and chris immediately ran by my side.

“he’s out with Matt- ill call him. im staying here with you until he gets here, okay?” he placed his hand on my back. he quickly pulled his phone out of his pocket, calling nick. i didnt understand what he said, because i wasn’t paying attention. i just need nick.

Nick. thats all i want. He’s all i need.

“hey.. please, talk to me.” Chris spoke softly, putting his phone back in his pocket. “what happened, buddy?” he asked, his eyebrows furrowing, his hand never leaving my back.

Thats when i realized, i wasn’t wearing my binder. Normally, not wearing my binder at my own house, or even the triplets, doesn’t bother me, but as i read through all those comments, calling me a girl, i couldn’t help but feel disappointed in myself.

I looked down at my chest, and started crying harder. I couldn’t breathe. fuck- i’m having a panic attack.

“n-nick- i- i need n-nick!” i gasped, quickly sitting up.

“hey- hey, it’s okay. Nicks almost here, okay? I need you to take deep breaths, okay?” Chris panicked. I panted, rocking back and fourth on nicks bed.

I knew Chris was trying to help, but i needed Nick.

We heard the door bust open, and nick and matt both ran up the stairs, to me and Chris.

“baby, my baby..” Nick’s eyebrows furrowed, as he rushed to my side. He pulled me into a hug, and looked at chris as he held me. “what happened, chris?” Nick asked, trying to raise his voice, knowing it would make things worse.

“I- i dont know! I heard a bang and crying- so, i ran up here and he was crying! he wouldnt tell me anything, besides he wanted you! i- i didnt know what to do so i called you!” Chris spoke worriedly.

I looked over at matt, his jaw clenched, as he fiddled with his own hands. his eyes glossy. Matt’s dealt with his own panic attacks, and seeing someone he cared about was probably hard for him.

“i- i-m sorry-“ i stuttered out to Matt, who had a worried expression plastered on his face. he didn’t say a word. I cant hurt matt, too.

“huh? baby, what are you sorry for?” nick asked me, pulling back slightly from the hug, to look me in the eyes.

“m-matt-“ i sobbed, and nicks head snapped towards matt, who’s chest was moving rapidly, his eyes wide.

“fuck, chris, get him out of here, please. go sit with him on the couch or something- calm him down. I got y/n,” nick gestured towards matt, and chris immediatly did as he was told.

“shh, baby. i’ve got you. You’re okay.” Nick whispered, pulling me into him. i focused on the heat radiating off of his body, his vanilla scent, and the way his soft hoodie felt on my skin. My sobs slightly subsided, and i could finally think straight again.

“My love.. i love you. so much. do you want to talk about it?” Nick offered, and placed a loving kiss on my forehead, as he brushed my hair out of my face.

“your f-fans.. they called me a girl..” i sniffled, and his gaze sofened, and he looked like he was about to cry.

“you are not a girl. you never have been, and never will be. you’re my boy.” Nick sighed, placing a soft kiss to my lips.

His boy.

I’m his boy.

I WASNT SURE IF THIS WAS A GOOD ENDING OR NOT BUT IDK I THOUGHT IT WAS CUTE.

writing the dms and comments BROKE me.

@bernardenjoyer @lovely-calypso

[birdiebirdjay]

Trick or treat for fic idea :)

(Ik, Ik, I'm so late with this)

HOLUP IM STARTING THIS WITH 44 MINUTES OF OCTOBER LEFT I GOT THIS I SWEAR (THIS IS BEING WRITTEN ON MOBILE AND PROBABLY ALSO WONT BE PROOFREAD SO BE WARNED KSKDHSKSHSKSH)

also this is mostly percy and penelope at the start but then more oliver bc we heart these three :)) can be read as platonic or romatic or qpr or anything

(uh post writing note i got a bit carried away with this-)

Penelope was sitting against the headboard of Percy's bed, her legs folded under her and a Quidditch magazine in her hands. "Oliver, did you know Merle's retiring?" she asks, her brows furrowing slightly. "She was the-"

Abruptly, she cuts herself off. There was... a weight on her thighs. She looks down, raising an eyebrow when she sees a few locks of red hair under her magazine. She closes it up and stares at Percy, who stares right back.

"What are you doing?" she asks, confused, but she can't hide the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. He's clearly trying much too hard to act casual, looking at a book propped up on his stomach. "Percy, that can't be good for your neck."

"No, it's alright," he says, shrugging a little and shifting about. "You don't mind, do you?"

"Well no, I don't," she rolls her eyes affectionately, running a gentle hand through his hair. "But seriously, I'm afraid you're going to cramp something. Oliver, look, tell him." When she doesn't get a reply, she looks up at Oliver's bed, where she sees him prodding at a whiteboard with his wand and muttering to himself. "Oliver?"

Oliver finally looks up, blinking a few times. "Wha-" he stops, his eyes landing on Percy. Slowly, he starts grinning, an amused and slightly smug little smile. "Percy, you're gonna destroy your neck."

"Oh, shut up about my neck, would you?" Percy grumbles, picking his book up and holding it up in the air instead so his neck is a little straighter. "There, is that better?"

Oliver laughs, setting his things away before flopping down onto Percy's bed. "If you wanted to cuddle, you could have asked," he says, rolling over onto his stomach and poking a now very red-faced Percy in the side.

Percy opens his mouth, then closes it, glaring at Oliver for a moment. He huffs under his breath, putting his book down almost aggressively and rolling onto his stomach as well. "Whatever," he mutters, burying his face into Penelope's stomach. She catches him saying something else, but his voice is muffled by her jumper.

"What was that?" she asks amusedly, shifting a little lower on the bed.

Percy sighs, moving his head to the crook of her neck. He'd probably never admit it, but it was nice, being sandwiched in between the two of them. "'S not usually that simple," he mumbles, rolling his eyes.

Penelope and Oliver exchange a confused look. "Not that simple?" Oliver asks, wrapping an arm around Percy. "What do you mean? I mean, you've got tons of siblings, and they're all pretty close."

Percy laughs, a bitter sort of laugh. "Yeah. I mean, close to each other. They're not exactly the cuddling type, though, I don't think."

"Hold on. Close to each other?" Penelope asks, looking down at him. "You said that... weirdly."

"Well... yeah. I mean, they're close to each other. They all sort of go in pairs, but- you know. We have an odd number of siblings."

"Oh."

They're all silent for a few moments. Oliver finally breaks it, resting his forehead against Percy's shoulder. "We're a three. It's a nice odd number, though."

Penelope nods, taking one of Percy's arms and wrapping it around herself. "I like odd numbers anyways. Three is my favorite," she says, leaning down to kiss the top of Percy's head.

"Right. I'm number three on the Quidditch team." Oliver smiles. "And Percy, you're the third sibling in your family!"

Penelope and Oliver continue listing things about the number three, and Percy can't help but laugh. "God, you two are..." he trails off, the words dying on his tongue. Instead, he smiles, kissing Penelope's neck and turning to kiss Oliver's cheek. "Lovable. You two are so damn lovable."

And... thank you. For telling me all I needed to do was ask.

[niki-phoria]

Hello, first of, I just wanna say your writing and stories has help me like literally 😭 so thank you so much!!!🤍🤍🤍

I was wondering if you could do Jake and Jay from Enphyen x male reader. Since valentines is tomorrow, maybe Jake and jay is trying to impress and try to get the male readers' attention. Jake and jay fights for Male reader to be their Valentine. For example maybe Jake and Jay trying to impress male reader with their muscles🥲. Ending could be fluff with male reader going out with both of them. Again if you don't wanna write this you don't have to lol. Have a great wonderful day!!!!!!!🤍🤍🤍🫧🫧

they look SO GOOD omg mullet jake >> and jay's earrings sknlknsl

pairing: non idol!jay x non idol!jake x male!reader (he/him pronouns) genre: fluff word count: 1.2k

includes: poly relationship (at the very end end), high school au, probably poor descriptions of high school, blushy jake, blushy jay, i love blushy boys lmao

a/n: thank you for requesting !! i made this a high school au bc i had a lot of inspiration for the idea i hope that's okay lol this is being posted after valentines day so i just made it into a normal confession fic. it means so much that you like my writing <33 i really liked this idea, i hope you like it :))

additional notes: it physically pains me that so many idols love justin beiber for some reason what does that man have that i do not /j i was looking for any solo covers from jay but all i could find was a duet with heeseung for off my face so that's what he sings here and the boquet is based on this pic

requests open !! read my rules first

you’re met with the overwhelming smell of flowers as soon as you open your locker. you can’t help the smile that spreads across your face at the sight before you. a bouquet of purple dahlias sits delicately placed between your textbooks. 

“i take it you like them?” jake asks, leaning against the locker next to yours. you smile, taking them out and holding them against your chest. 

“i love them,” you smile, pulling him into a quick hug. “thank you!” 

a light flush spreads across jake’s face when you pull away. “i’m glad,” he murmurs. he absentmindedly plays with the strap of his backpack. “hey, i was wondering-” 

his question is cut off by the shrill noise of the school bell, officially announcing the start of the school day. slowly, the student body begins dispersing through the hallways, entering various different classrooms. “shit, i have a test in second period,” you curse to yourself. “oh, what were you gonna ask?” 

“it’s nothing important.” jake’s blush gets a little darker as he waves you off. “i’ll walk you to class?” 

“sure.” you set the flowers back as you close your locker, eagerly returning to jake’s side. his hand brushes against yours before he slowly reaches over, taking your hand into his. 

you dramatically sigh, throwing your head back in frustration. jay stifles a chuckle as he watches you roll onto the floor, laying on the carpet. “math sucks,” you whine. “i hate it here.” 

“what are you working on?” 

“trigonometry.” you nearly hiss the word. 

“come on, it can’t be that bad.” you lift your head to glare at him through your fringe before dramatically laying back down. 

“i am but a poor teenage boy. i can’t be expected to memorize the unit circle!” 

jay laughs, setting his notes aside and kneeling down next to you. “alright, why don’t we take a break?” you sit up as he walks over to the other side of his room, grabbing his guitar from it’s resting place against the wall. 

“ooh, gonna play me a song, pretty boy?” the nickname makes a dark flush spread across his face as he sits across from you. 

“i wont be able to if you keep flustering me like this,” he whispers. you chuckle. jay sets the guitar across his thigh, positioning his fingers along the neck. “i’m a little nervous, i haven’t played in front of anyone before.” 

“well, i’m honored to have the privilege of being the first.” he nervously repositions his fingers on the chords, staring down at his hands. “hey,” you reach over to grab his hand, making him look at you. “you’ll do great. i’m sure of it.” 

jay smiles, nodding. “thanks.” he takes a breath before he begins, slowly strumming the strings. “‘cause i’m off my face, in love with you / i’m out of my head, so into you / and i don’t know how you do it / but i’m forever ruined by you.” 

jay lets the final chords ring out. you sit in a comfortable silence for a few moments. “you’re incredible.” a flustered smile makes it’s way across his face, blush deepening a little. 

“thank you.” he whispers. an odd tension hangs in the air when he looks up at you. you stare into his eyes, deep brown pulling you in. their darkness is alluring. in the next minute you sit staring at him in silence, taking in every part of him, you decide you’d like to get lost in them forever. 

you sigh, setting your belongings onto the library table. jake stifles a laugh as he watches you. “you know we’re gonna have to pick all of this up later, right?” 

you playfully glare at him, ignoring him as you set your bag down on the floor. across from you jay smiles. “you know y/n. he can’t study if he doesn’t have a highlighter in every color in case he needs to take notes.” 

“at least i’m prepared,” you retort, opening your computer. “what are we working on anyways?” 

“chemistry lab.” 

“don’t you actually need to take notes though?” your eyes widen as you look over at jake. 

“notes? did i miss something?” 

his eyebrows furrow as he looks at you. “for history. about the korean war?” 

jay chuckles. “did you forget?” 

“i think so.” you close your laptop, sliding your chair back to stand up. “can you watch my stuff? i need to get my textbook.” 

“go ahead.” 

“thanks.” 

jay waits for you to leave the library before leaning in a little closer to jake, voice dropping to a whisper. “are you two going out?” 

“what?” jake cocks his head at him. “no, why would you think that.” 

“i heard about the flowers.” 

“oh, that’s just a little joke we do every year.” jay nods. “why do you ask?” 

“i was planning on asking him out.” jake nearly freezes as he stares at his friend. this time it’s jay who’s confused at his reaction. “what is it?” 

“i, um…” jake glances over his shoulder before dropping his voice even lower. “i like him too.” 

“i thought you did.” jay has to stop himself from laughing at jake’s shocked expression. “come on, you’re not exactly… subtle.” 

“oh, and you are?” 

“listen, i don’t want this to affect our relationship, but i also don’t want to miss out on a chance with y/n.” 

“so, what are you thinking?” 

“i’m thinking we both ask him out and let him choose.” 

“choose?” jay shrugs. 

“i mean, unless you have a better idea.” 

“no, no. when were you planning on asking him?” 

“sometime tomorrow. probably at a cafe.” 

jake nods. “that works for me.” 

the cafe is nearly empty when you enter. you spot jake and jay immediately, both sitting together at a table. jay waves you over, smiling when you sit down. “sorry i’m late, i wasn’t expecting the rain.” 

“don’t be.” jake shakes his head. he slides a cup across to you. “we got you an americano.” 

“oh, thank you.” the cup is warm against your hand. you take your jacket off, setting it on the chair beside you. jay and jake share a glance together. you cock your head at them in confusion. “what are you planning?” 

“we’ve been talking, and we wanted to ask…” jake begins. 

“we both like you.” jay finishes. you raise an eyebrow at them. 

“and you want me to choose?” 

“that’s… kinda what we were planning, yeah.” 

you have to stop yourself from laughing in disbelief. “i’ve also been thinking and i like you too. both of you.” 

“so, you mean…” 

“listen, i really like you guys. and i’m willing to try this if you are.” 

jake is the first to react, reaching out to take your hand. “i really like you. i want to try.” 

you look over at jay. he contemplates for a second before nodding. “as long as we take it slow.” 

“we don’t have to do anything until all of us are comfortable.” jake squeezes your hand. 

“does this mean i can call you mine?” jay smiles. 

“i’ll be yours as long as you’ll have me.” 

[ask-sibverse]

Actually I've Been Wanting To Ask For This Prompt For Awhile, But You Seem So Busy With Others And My 50 Something Prompts, But Seeing Your Post...

Could You Do A ReaderxKillerxColor Date?

Hon in my mind we're basically besties from how often you're in my inbox ( @dreamseersystem made me tally how many I had from you and I had five in my inbox lol)

If anything this would probably continue off this little side timeline (side note: while I definitely like writing Nightmare as redeemable/necessary evil/"secretly good" because I project on the Dreamtale twins intensely, Nightmare does have to be a toxic bastard in this version of things)

"You ever been on a three way date?" Killer asked.

You looked up from your book. The pair of you were just hanging out quietly together. Color, ever more versed in terms, said it was called "parallel play" or something. "Uhh no? Why?"

"Cuz I wanna take you both out on a date!" He beamed at you. "I have a day off coming up where Nightmare promises he wont pull me away for anything! It'll be perfect to take my two favorite people out for some fun together!"

You were tempted to remind Killer of the many promises Nightmare had already broken, including this same exact promise. Several times. But he looked so excited, you couldn't bear to ruin that smile. "Sure, that sounds great. Just tell me when and how much to dress up for you guys."

It was about a week later when Killer came to pick you up. He told you not to dress up too fancy, but you still made sure you looked nice for them both. He took you back to Ccino's to meet up with Color and pick up some food he'd ordered before going to Outertale for a picnic date.

You liked getting food from Ccino's, you had a pretty accurate idea of how to bolus for it. Grillby's were pretty consistent across AUs (at least the "standard" ones were), it was really mostly just Muffett's that were hard to guess the right amount of insulin for. (Except your own, of course.)

Regardless, you liked Ccino's and so did Killer and Color so everyone was happy with the food. You all honestly had a lovely time in the quiet and privacy under the stars.

... At least, until Nightmare very predictably started calling Killer and insisted he come home immediately. Which of course upset Killer because "he promised!"

You squeezed his hand. "Hey, its fine. Why don't you come back to meet Color and I at my apartment whenever he's done with you and we can snuggle and watch movies together?"

He sighed. "Fine..."

You and Color looked at each other after he left.

"I knew this would happen," Color ranted. "Nightmare always does this!"

"I know. I did too."

"He needs to get away from Nightmare. He needs to leave. I know the Omega Timeline might not be the best place for him but maybe-"

"You can't force him to leave, Color. Well, technically you could, but it wouldn't help."

"I know, its just. Its frustrating."

"I know. All we can do right now is be here for him, and be safe for him."

And that's what the two of you did, to the best of your ability. You were both in your apartment, as you said you'd be, when Killer was finally done. He very firmly had a mask of "everything is fine" on, but you didn't say anything. You just let him pick a few movies and some snacks, and the three of you cuddled up under a ridiculous amount of pillows and blankets on your couch to just cuddle and relax together.

And if Killer's black goop looked runnier and tearier than usual, well then, he didn't complain about you hugging him a bit tighter and leaving some tissues conveniently within reach.

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

A Suit and a Gown, Both Armor | Chin Up, Or the Crown Slips

You just posted “A Suit and a Gown, Both Armor”, so it’s probably too soon to request a part two to the fic but I wanted to put this request out there anyway. It could just be about Roman attending the ball in their gown, since I’d be interested in seeing them enjoying the ball dressed the way they feel most comfortable and happy. And since I was the one who requested a nonbinary Roman fic, I just wanted to say thanks for writing my request. The fic was very enjoyable to read :) – monkeythefander

did i frantically rewrite this maybe but here it is!! (for those who didn't know, you were supposed to get this on Wednesday but! my writing software deleted both this chapter and another fic i'd already written but! i have rewritten and so here you go)

Read on Ao3 Part 1

Warnings: anxiety about coming out, implied/referenced transphobia

Pairings: none

Word Count: 4432

 “Enter.”

The steward pushes open the door, letting it shut with a low thud. Roman looks over their shoulder as his gaze travels up and down the length of their outfit. The tailor pokes her head out from just behind their hip and hums in acknowledgement. 

“You have outdone yourself this time,” he says lowly, “your work is, as always, spectacular.”

“Save your flattery,” the tailor says, even with the slightest glow of pride to her cheeks, “not every tailor is so fortunate as to have such an excellent model.”

“You both should save your flattery, I’ve no need to hear it.”

“You have every need.” The steward comes closer, meeting Roman’s gaze in the reflection of the mirror. “Though I do not stop by just to admire: your brother has arrived.”

Ah.

Roman raises their chin just slightly, affecting a confidence they do not feel. An admirable effort, but a fruitless one: the steward catches sight of their mere hesitation and takes another step forward. 

“I am happy to tell him to wait until the ball begins proper, he is several hours early, after all.”

“Well, he is wont to show up unexpectedly.” They are unable to keep the note of fondness from their voice, even as their hands twitch at their sides. “Where is he?”

“Presently in the courtyard still, entertaining some of the children with tales of the Kraken.”

“I hope he’s picking the ones that are appropriate for their ears.”

“Their parents were within close range, I am sure they would make some attempt to alert him if his subject matter strayed too far from what they wished their children to be exposed to.” 

Roman sighs. They look down at the rich red fabric swirling from them and follow a single speck of dust as it leaves the skirt and lands on the floor. The tailor gives it a quick tug when they remain silent for too long. 

“Am I making a mistake?”

“Would you care to be more specific, old friend?”

“This,” Roman says, gesturing about, “the ball, the choice of clothing, the…this.”

“I do hope you’re not about to tell me you want another costume for the evening—“

“No, no, nothing like that, it’s just—“ their hands twist into each other and they bite worry their bottom lip between chapped lips—“is this the proper time to be…”

The steward picks up on his unwillingness to fully voice the statement—and how could he not, when Roman had all but stumbled around it like a newborn foal—and steps closer once more, close enough to brush their hands tighter. Roman takes it gratefully, clinging with a strength that they know takes the steward by surprise. He squeezes back, just as readily, as the tailor produces a needle and begins to finish a seam. 

“I can think of no better occasion,” the steward says softly, “than on the day of a ball where the kingdom has come together to celebrate you and all you have done for them—no, no, do not protest that fact. This ball is for the good of the people, for morale, yes, I know, but it is a celebration.”

“Why of me?”

“Who else would it be for?”

“What about for them? For weathering yet another year, for overcoming difficulty, for simply being? Does it have to come back to me?”

“You’re not dissuading his questions about why you’re suddenly so insistent on avoiding the spotlight, you know.”

Roman sighs, letting their head hang. The steward waits patiently until they can summon up their strength again. 

“I am…worried,” they settle on finally, “that in my efforts to celebrate this part of myself that I will only be at a greater disadvantage when it comes to what comes after.”

“You speak of the reaction to your reveal.”

“Yes.”

“Those who are truly yours to care for and care for you in return will not question it,” the tailor says with a certainty they wish they could borrow, if only for the evening, “and I will be there to pin the ones that would behave otherwise back into place.”

“I don’t believe there’s a need for that.”

“Which is why I am not asking for your permission.”

“I think you’d best nod and agree,” the steward hums, a chuckle evident in his voice, “we both know it might happen regardless of whatever approval she gains.”

“You say as if you won’t be pointing them out to her if she should miss them.”

“Naturally.” The steward winks at them in the mirror before growing sober once more. “In truth, old friend, I do not envy your position. I don’t mean to force you into a decision you do not wish to make. I believe you could simply reveal yourself in these stunning garments without ascribing them to the other secret you wish to reveal and the kingdom would think nothing of it. Well, aside from the obvious.”

“What is the obvious?”

“That the tailor is a master at her craft and you are as beautiful and handsome as ever.”

“Careful now, I believe I’ve been warned off of flushing too obviously.” Roman shakes their head. “I…this all seemed so simple just a few days ago.”

“Big decisions often do.”

The three of them lapse into silence for a long moment, interrupted only by the soft susurrus of the tailor’s needle through fabric. Distant sounds of laughter and hooves on cobblestones drift in from the still-open window as the afternoon wears on. 

“Is it worth it?”

“Hm?”

“IS it worth it,” the steward asks gently, “to know that those who would speak of you are not speaking the full truth, if it would save you the backlash of what you would reveal?”

Strings though wounds around their hands and words, their arms and legs, their waist and heart. Would it be worth severing them if the blade that did so cut him as well?

“You needn’t make the decision right now,” the steward says after Roman makes no further move to speak, “I can go and tell the Duke that he must wait until the ball begins to—“

“No.” Roman swallows. “He can come up now.”

“Certainly, I can fetch him.”

“And would you—“ Roman catches the steward by the hand as he goes to pull away, even as they do not make eye contact in the mirror— “would you tell him?”

The steward pauses, evidently surprised, and Roman dares look at him. 

“If he knew,” they say quietly, “if he knew, that might…that might help me decide about…the rest.”

“You did say you suspected he might already know,” the steward agrees with equal caution, “I think it is a wise decision to share the burden with him now.”

“Shame on you,” the tailor scolds, “for referring to such a thing as a burden.”

“I only meant to say—“

“I know what you meant,” Roman says quickly, squeezing his hand again, “I understand. I…yes, thank you.”

“I’ll go and fetch him now.”

He retreats, Roman watching him go until the door closes with a soft thud once more. Their gazer travels from the door to the open window along a thin golden shaft on sunlight, lingering on the armor set out to dry from an earlier spar, the golden embossing on its more decorous finishing gleaming in the late light. Further still to the bed with its rich red canopies, to the desk where the last of the correspondences sat with their paper edges curling up like forgotten petals. The slight coil in their stomach twists as they look at them: invitations answered at the last minute, those from suitors who wished to enter the ball as a matched pair, and of course, the ones from the other guests to the kingdom. 

“Forgive me if I am overzealous in coming to your defense,” comes the tailor’s soft voice, interrupting their thoughts, “I do not mean to offend.”

“You never could. I find that while I lack no strength or will to rise to the defense of others, when it comes to myself, I am…less than able.”They offer their other hand to her, letting her take it and squeeze. “It is an honor and a privilege for you to come to my defense so readily.”

Her brow quirks. “Even if I threaten to stab those who are despicable to you with pins?”

They laugh. “Yes, even then.”

“Noted.”

A few more moments pass in companionable silence, the tailor returning to her work as Roman allows their thoughts to wander, until the tailor pronounces the seam finished and steps back to have a look at them. 

“What do you think?”

“The steward did not misspeak. You are a vision.”

“And you are a master?”

“Well, that did not need to be spoken.”

A small smile curls up their face as footsteps approach from the hall. They begin to turn to see who it is—they know, they already know, they could feel his approach as easily as they can anything in the kingdom—and the door opens to reveal the steward and—

“Holy fucking shit, Ro.”

Roman turns fully, the tailor taking one of their hands to help. The fullness of the red skirt almost obscures the podium entirely, spilling out from the golden carapace framing either side of their torso.  One reaches upwards to wrap around their side ribs and chest, the other down to give the illusion of a swelling hip and thigh. The edges of the gold perfectly meld with the golden detailing of the white shirt, their asymmetry accenting the slimness of their waist and the broad line of their shoulders. A more traditionally masculine collar closed with a ruby nestles at the hollow of their throat, two golden epaulets atop each of their shoulders. Golden chains hang over their upper back and chest, the very longest of each just brushing the top of the higher half of the carapace. 

The crown sits waiting on a side table. 

“Whilst I cannot ascribe the same crassness to my own sentiments,” the steward says as he shuts the door again, “I concur wholeheartedly with the Duke’s statement.”

Remus hasn’t said another word, still staring at Roman. His own costume, a slightly sleeker and more elegant version of his customary green sash with black tulle, does little to cover the way his chest stutters slightly with his uneven breaths. After another pause, his eyes flick up to catch Roman’s and a grin spreads across his face. 

“Holy shit, Ro.”

“I take it that’s a good thing?”

“You take—Ro. You look fucking amazing. Everyone in that ballroom is gonna shit themselves when they see you.”

“I hope not,” the steward remarks casually, “that would be an awful mess to clean.”

Still, Roman cannot stop their own answering grin as Remus comes forward to take their hands. “I’m glad you came.”

“Like I would miss it.” Some of the mania goes out of his grin and he lowers his voice. “I did notice something about the way he introduced you to me, though.”

Roman swallows. “Yeah.”

“Are you…you’re using they/them now?” They just nod silently. “Okay. Are you still—can I still call you my brother?”

“Yes,” they say far too quickly, “yeah, that’s—that’s fine. I’m still going by ‘Prince.’”

They do not miss the way Remus’s shoulders sag in relief. “And then Ro-Bro?”

“Also fine.”

“Great. Good. Fuck, I’m so proud of you, Roro.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“You just came out. That’s hard and scary, and not in the good way.”

“Remus.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll be serious.” He glances down at the garments against and gestures. “Is this…are you coming out to everyone tonight too?”

The humor in the room abruptly fades as a weight sinks from Roman’s throat to their stomach. They glance at the tailor and she nods, standing and going to take the steward by the arm. He lingers a few moments more, clearly unwilling to leave Roman in such an unsure state. 

“It’s okay,” Remus promises, “I got them.”

“We’ll be just outside.”

“Thank you.”

As soon as the doors close, they let out a shaky breath. Their shoulders sag, their hands in Remus’s beginning to tremble ever so slightly. Remus, ever the attentive brother, crouches slightly so Roman needn’t move to look at him, pressing as close as he dares to their skirts. 

“What’s going on, Ro,” he asks softly, “talk to me?”

“I don’t know what to do, Re.”

“About what?”

“This.” They gesture at themselves and the surrounding room with an edge of frustration. “It hurts, it does, but they don’t—I don’t know if I can do it if they��if they—“

“Hey, shh, easy, slow down a bit.” He reaches up and cups the back of their neck. “You’re talking about the others reacting to you coming out, right?”

“Yeah.”

“What could they do? Don’t look at me like that,” he scolds lightly when Roman glares at him, “let’s walk through it, what could happen?”

Roman sighs. The weight of standing still for so long as the tailor worked catches up with them all at once, leaving them weak at the knees and leaning heavily on Remus. 

“Shit—here, let me get that stool, you can sit on that. Do you think you can get it under the skirt?”

“Probably?”

Remus makes sure they’re steady enough to stand on their own for a moment as he goes to fetch the plump and plush footstool from the corner of the bed. Roman hefts the skirts up and out of the way as he sets it on top of the podium, helping to spread the fabric out so that no wrinkles or creases form. 

“There’s so much skirt it kind of looks like you just got shorter.”

“Does it?” Roman glances over their shoulder at their reflection. “Oh. It does.”

In customary Remus fashion, he ignores whatever decorum or courtesy rules there may be and plonks himself on the floor, still within reach of Roman if they need to hold on to him again. 

“It feels hypocritical,” they murmur, “to have a ball and make such a big deal of…of coming out and then not wanting it to be a whole thing.”

“How so?”

“I don’t want—I don’t want to be smothered about it. I don’t want it, like, shouted from the rooftops or anything. I don’t need it to be big and…and now this really sounds hypocritical.”

“There’s a difference between you celebrating it and someone else trying to celebrate it for you.”

“Yeah, that’s exactly it.”

“Mm. Yeah, I’ve met Patton before.”

“Is it that obvious?” 

“That one was. What else?”

“This is also going to sound hypocritical—“

“I don’t care about what it sounds like, Roro, just talk to me. I’m not gonna tell anyone else shit.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I think it’s…I’m…”

“Dealing with the things the others have forced onto you ‘cause they can be really shitty to you when you try and talk about things, I know, please continue.”

Roman winces at how blunt it is, but moreover, how true it is. “I also don’t want it to be just…dismissed? Or overlooked? I don’t want it to be a technicality.”

“You don’t want Logan saying you basically count as a man.”

“Are these really that obvious, Re?”

“They are to me.” He reaches out and knocks his hand against Roman’s. “Because I know you.”

“No, I don’t want that. And I don’t want Virgil calling me attention-seeking or dramatic either.”

“Like he thinks you’re coming out for the trend or some other stupid bullshit that isn’t true?”

“Yeah.”

Remus makes a grumble that sounds suspiciously like knocking someone over the head with a Morningstar, but it’s only a grumble that Roman can’t quite make out. “And Janny?”

The strings tighten and hook into their lungs. The metal suddenly digs into their ribs and the skirt grows heavy and viscous around their legs. Their collar tightens and itches. 

“Yeah,” they hear Remus mutter from leagues away, “I thought so.”

“I don’t mean to think the worst of them,” they say through a cotton tongue, “but I can’t help it.”

“You’re scared, Roro, it makes sense that your brain is conjuring up worst-case scenarios.”

They huff. “Worse than the idea of them not believing me in the first place?”

“You could pass it off as something that’s just true for the Prince Roman in the Imagination.”

“And be scolded for making light of nonbinary people? No, thank you.”

Remus falls silent for a moment and they sigh. 

“Forgive me.”

“There’s nothing to forgive, Ro. This shit’s hard. I’m just here for you.”

Roman nods, still not looking at him. They stare at their hands, at the calluses and wrinkles and dry spots, and the golden signet ring resting on their left pinky. They look at it, at their crest and the weight of the gold, and the way that it insists on catching the light no matter which way they turn it. 

“Whoa, hey,” Remus’s hands cup their cheeks and their head is tilted back to meet his concerned expression, “hey, Roro, it’s okay, I’m right here, okay? I’m here, I’m not going anywhere, it’s gonna be okay.”

I know, they try to say, but their throat won’t cooperate, I know, why can’t I speak?

Their answer comes in the form of a tremendous hitching breath and the feeling of Remus wiping something from their cheek. 

Oh. I’m crying. 

Realizing this fact does not do anything to stop it; rather, as soon as Roman realizes, the force of the sobs doubles and threatens to dislodge Remus’s  hands as they lean on him for support. He blindly gropes for a handkerchief and passes it to them, letting them bury their face in their hands as he curls protectively around them, still murmuring into their ears. 

“It’s gonna be okay, Roro, I’m right here. I promise it’s gonna be okay. We’re gonna figure it out. I swear we’ll figure it out.”

They fumble to get their hand around his wrist and hold on for dear life. Remus weathers the storm as though he were a mountain, immovable, immutable, everlasting. Roman loves him. 

Eventually the sobs taper off. They scrub the last of the remnants from their face as Remus tilts their chin up, tutting at the roughness left on their cheeks. 

“The tailor will have my head if I let you make your pretty face all messy,” he says without any real heat, taking the handkerchief and gently cleaning the rest of their face. 

“Did you know she’s threatening to stab anyone who’s mean to me with her pins tonight?”

“I’ll help her, that sounds like a perfectly reasonable idea.”

“Remus.”

“Oh, fine,” he sighs, “I won’t help her.”

“Thank you.”

“I won’t stop her either.”

Roman sighs and he chuckles, leaning forward to rub their noses together. “Hey, you know I love you, right? I’m so proud of you, Ro-Bro.”

“I love you too.” They glance at the door. “You can let them back in now.”

Remus nods and goes to the door as Roman gets themselves together just a tad. The tailor lets out a quiet noise when she comes back to his side, obviously noticing the last of the tears. They shake their head, it’s alright, and she gives their arm a reassuring pat. 

“Have you made our prince cry, Duke,” the steward asks lowly, “is everything alright?”

“It’s okay,” Roman says, “I’m alright.”

“Well, you’ve given me time to finish the beading on the skirt,” the tailor says, happily taking a seat on the floor and picking up a different needle, “hold still as much as you can, if you wouldn’t mind.”

“Perhaps the Duke would be willing to help with the rest?”

“Oh, fuck yeah, Roro, let me do your makeup.”

“If you want to?”

“Yeah, I want to.” He goes to the side and fetches a large case, setting it up on a nearby table. “You just shush and let me work, okay?”

“Okay.”

The steward brings over another chair from the table and takes a seat near the three of them. The rest of the afternoon passes in lazy conversation, the quiet stitching from the tailor, and the soft touch of brushes across their face. AS the sun sinks lower and lower in the sky, eventually Remus and the tailor step away and Roman beholds themselves in the mirror. 

Golden sparkles atop red eye shadow, a brighter highlight in the inner corner. Sharply contorted cheekbones and a bright red lip. They turn their head this way and that, admiring the way the light catches the high points of their face. 

“The finishing touch.”

The tailor has their crown in their hands. They bow their head slightly, feeling the weight of it come to rest on top. It settles perfectly into place. They take a deep breath and stand, facing the mirror. 

“My prince,” the tailor murmurs. 

As if on cue, the clock begins to chime. Not long now until the ball begins. 

“Do you want me with you,” Remus asks, “or in the crowd?”

“In the crowd. Let me find you.”

Remus nods, offering the smallest bow—Roman laughs at that—and leaving. The steward steps up to take his place, smiling. 

“You look resplendent.”

“Thank you, old friend. Though I fear I’ve kept you both from getting ready yourselves.”

“Nonsense. I just have to swap out a few things and I’ll be finished.”

“It would only be responsible of me to be on hand should you need an emergency repair,” the tailor says, innocently smiling when Roman narrows their eyes at her, “pins and all.”

“You’re both incorrigible.”

“And you would not have us any other way. Ah!” She slaps their hand lightly when they go to help. “None of that for you. You can simply stand and look incredible.”

“That doesn’t seem fair.”

“You are the prince. Letting us fumble about with our own garments is perfectly fair.”

They raise their hands in concession, sitting back down as the two of them ready themselves for the ball. When the time draws near, each of them offers a hand and they stand, moving slowly from the stool through the halls and down the back corridors to the grand staircase. From just beyond the shadow of the overhanging promenade, they can see the lights on the stone and the faint strains of music and conversation from the ball proper. 

The steward pauses just before the entrance. “How would you like to be introduced?”

The tailor squeezes their hand reassuringly. 

“What we discussed earlier.”

The steward smiles and lifts their hand, clasping it against his own chest in a modified version of the soldier’s salute. “My pleasure, my friend.”

He walks out onto the landing to address the herald. The sudden air of the ball makes them lightheaded and their hand trembles once more. The tailor steps a little closer in the shadows, letting them lean against her side until their breath returns. 

“Chin up,” she whispers encouragingly, “or the crown slips.”

“Thank you.”

“We love you, Roman, we’re by your side.”

The trumpets blare. They take a deep breath and push their shoulders back, raising their chin. The booming voice of the herald echoes over the now-hushed ballroom. 

“I give you, Their Majesty, Prince Roman!”

They walk out into the light. 

The first thing they see are the ornate chandeliers suspended over the marble floor. Glittering crystal fragments catch the light and send it dancing about the columns. Garlands swing in the gentle evening breeze from the hanging gardens, rich and vibrant blooms occasionally dropping petals onto the costumed folk beneath. As rapturous applause breaks out amidst the gasps and murmurs, their gaze travels from one side to the other, taking everything in. 

And there, in the middle, there they are. 

The first one he sees is Logan, a midnight blue cape over one shoulder, revealing a deep silver set of plate with a long sword at his side. The inside of the cape is inlaid with glittering gems that look like stars. Next to him is Virgil, also in a cape, covering a set of purple robes and black gems. Patton wears a similar outfit, except in light blue and white. On one hip hangs a small bag, also inlaid with sapphires and other precious gems. Janus stands to Logan’s other side, clad in a glittering gold ensemble fit for the finest of court sorcerers. His cane makes an appearance as well, elegantly gilded with a snake’s fangs at its base. 

Remus grins and offers them a little wave. 

Someone hands them a goblet and they raise it in toast. Across the room, many hands raise to do the same. They smile and drink as the steward motions for the music to begin again. The tailor comes to their side as the ball resumes, responding to their entrance with a new and vibrant energy. 

“You were spectacular,” she murmurs, “now come, let’s get you into it properly.”

They make their way down the stairs, the crowd parting around them as the steward and tailor follow close behind. Compliments and praise come from all directions but Roman only has eyes for the five in the center. They come to a stop a few paces away, still a little breathless from the rush of emotion. 

They do not have to say a word. 

The steward will tell you that the one in light blue managed to reach the prince first, throwing his arms around them with a squeal and a whisper. The tailor will say it was only by a hair; all five of them rushed to embrace their prince in celebration of their moment. 

Regardless of whose word you favor, both would agree that a ball had never had such cheer nor enthusiasm, and not a single person needed a sharp pin to the side to get them to see what was right in front of them. 

And all was right with the world. 

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