#so HOW DO WE SOLVE THIS HMM
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thewhizzyhead · 2 years ago
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you know my dudes i don't think i'm quite sure on whether i prefer "it's not a game" or "be safe/be good" as a prelude to it's just a ride aka the rtc finale cause like. "It's not a game" fits more musically and thematically to it's just a ride and it sounds so damn good and it focuses on the kids bittersweetingly making peace with their choice to concede for Jane Doe which is VERY important to them making peace with their lives in "it's just a ride" and their character arcs in regards to how they treat Jane Doe BUT THEN AGAIN "be safe/be good" has the kids MOURNING their deaths and the lives they left behind and like,,,the idea of first mourning their own deaths before coming to peace with them via finding the fun in the rollercoaster ride that led to their deaths IS SO FUCKING HEAVY AND PROFOUND ESPECIALLY CONSIDERING THAT THE CHARACTERS ARE KIDS LIKE HOLY FUCK THAT'S IMPACTFUL
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snekdood · 2 years ago
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"people shouldnt keep cold weather dogs in hot climates" dude thats so cool and wise of you!! Now what do people do with their cold weather dogs in their hot climates? Whats the next best move, jackass?
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hershelwidget · 1 year ago
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sorry i just went on an deep dive. it would cost like. 5 or so billion dollar for the octonauts to function. either inkling has pockets as deep as the ocean or there’s some highly illegal behind the scenes nonsense goin on here
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unproduciblesmackdown · 22 days ago
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what if we held on to whatever we get the idea of as Normal as unquestionable & think all you can do to this normal is apply some veneers overtop it to be more polite & also resent that. maybe we could project that everyone who seems to be Annoyingly Disruptively doing more than this must be putting on a performance to look good &/or humor others b/c that's all we ever believe we're doing, & again, we resent even that much....maybe we could use our show of More Polite language to make the same points blaming everyone who our Normal mistreats for their own mistreatment
#perhaps we could lecture autistic people on their; ah; Lacking Social Skills or Intelligence. it's just matter of fact#completely neutral what Annoys those who do well enough when thrown into any group settings; completely neutral how they React#like yeah can't possibly take issue w/anything Acceptable to Encouraged in the realm of even ''successful'' ''normal'' social interactions#infinite ''smh this is why nobody takes ableism seriously'' like oh you mean b/c of the ableism? is why you don't take it seriously?#infinite ways of phrasing that everyone alleged so Annoying With It is just like you but someone actively Putting On An Act too much#all it can possibly be. just as someone's Anti Ableism would be knowingly ''humoring'' / ''tolerating'' an autistic person e.g.#ah you see to this Person Who Identifies As Nonbinary's face i will try to mostly use Their Preferred Pronouns. that's that done#but it's sooo annoying. what's next; multiple &/or changing pronouns? god even worse. so Inflicted Upon my correct norm#if i'm not feeling actively malicious & devious in how i treat someone i am surely as righteous as it gets#having to improve on perfection by occasionally feeling Put Upon to perform politeness around some individuals? ughhh#that's why it's actually illegitimate. shouldn't have to be Put Upon like that. (finding the norm Questionable? out of the question Lol)#shocked ppl report that casual usage of the r word is having a revival. by shocked i mean [already clear ppl didn't care abt that]#& again just the current ''polite'' rephrasing of ableism like oh um :) disabled ppl are just a Specific kind of unintelligent & unskilled#& unprofessional & incompetent & a harmful scourge :) & maybe if they learned to be otherwise they wouldn't be punished :)#just formalized ABA vs the less formalized ABA huh. & the [the Real ableism] it ostensibly is to be saying all this i'm sure#something something not a real ally if they encourage behavior that will Make other ppl treat you badly. helpless neurotypicality :(#just as the ppl saying ableism is baked into terms & phrases used casually well beyond the [bad but lol guess not That Bad r word]#were definitely the ones Advancing Ableism by annoyingly overdoing the Polite Veneer you imagine they were Demanding#(rather than a more thorough questioning of language & accepted ''norms'' in pointing out the logics in their usage / basis)#simultaneously as being too much to ask it was also always so Frivolous as to not be worth the apparently infinitesimal effort#hmm guess we'll never solve the contradictions there....#not even with the ''openly saying 'see? i don't take ableism seriously & now it's Your Fault b/c i saw this & scoffed at it''' clues#& a final shoutout to the classic ''it's called being Realistic'' language in this & wherever else relevantly applied lol. we could go on
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coquelicoq · 1 year ago
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i finally wrote an xword that i think might be nyt-submittable...i originally wrote it for the local paper though so i now have to go back through and rework the clues to take out the specific local ones and make some of the others harder. i know exactly which day of the week this would run in the nyt (if it gets accepted) because this type of theme always runs on the same day, so at least i know which clue difficulty to aim for, but i'm still finding it difficult to hit that precise level! i'm used to just making the clues as easy as possible because my local paper's audience is mostly people who aren't xword aficionados. i already reworked this puzzle a couple times based on feedback from friends and family but that was all still when i thought i'd be running it in my local paper. i kinda just want to be done with it but i've never had a theme and fill i thought were completely nyt-worthy before!
#i've been thinking that i would write a puzzle that was intended for the nyt from the beginning#but i never prioritize it because the local paper is actually expecting something from me and i have deadlines with them#so this might be the only way it ever actually happens#i feel kinda bad for the local paper that they don't even get my best work haha but also this theme would probably be too hard#for most of their audience (though let's face it probably all of my puzzles are too hard for various reasons)#aw shoot though i just reread the submission guidelines and they're specifically looking for themes OTHER THAN this type#hmmm#cruciverbs#i also wouldn't mind submitting this in collaboration with a more experienced constructor who could help me with the clues#and i imagine such people are always looking for greenhorn collaborators because it allows them to have >3 submissions#in the queue...but i don't even know how one goes about finding such people#if i submit it and they reject it no harm no foul EXCEPT that i don't know how long it would take them to get back to me#and if this isn't going to run in the nyt then i'd still like to run it in the local paper#but also maybe if they reject it they'll be like 'we don't want this but you seem to have promise so here's the email address of#one of our veteran constructors who would be willing to work with you on other ideas you may have'#i just made that up idk if they would actually do that haha but it seems plausible. and wouldn't it be nice?#i do have another nyt-specific idea that i've been spinning my wheels on for like two years#hmm hmm hmm. i think my best bet is still to rework these clues and submit it and see what happens#worst case scenario is they never get back to me. which is a distinct possibility given what happened with my#american xword puzzle tournament previous year solved puzzles (ie they never got back to me >:( )#but that was will shortz. this is will shortz plus like 5 other people. he probably doesn't even see new submissions
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subbmissivesuccubus · 10 months ago
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Things Dr.Ratio says in bed~
Inspired by @/roseloon and their series
"You think you're so fucking smart, don't you? We'll see how long that attitude lasts."
"What was that? Speak up. I know you have a tiny little brain but even you can string up a sentence, can't you? Oh? I'm fucking you too roughly? Well that's too bad, isn't it?"
"Use. Your. Words."
"Yeah? You like that? Like having my fat cock stretch out your pretty pussy?"
"Over my knee. Now."
"You taste delicious, darling."
"You're going to cock warm me while I read and I don't want a single peep out of you. Understand?"
"Take it- take it- that's it. Good girl~"
"I love it when you're obedient. Go on. Hump my leg."
"How many. Hmm? Oh, you lost count? I guess we're going to have to start all over then." Spank
"Kiss me. Now."
"You're fine. I've used enough lube. Now stop struggling before I make it hurt."
"We'd make very smart children, my love."
"Where do you want it? In your pussy? Of course you do, you fucking whore~"
"Drink my cum and savor it, pet."
"You get one more answer wrong and I'm going to cane that ass."
There we go. A pretty collar for you with my name on it. Just so that poor little brain of yours can remember who you belong to.
"Breed you? Yeah? You want my seed to impregnate this slutty body? Want to have my babies?"
Wait for me in the bedroom. Wear the lingerie that I like. I'll be there in ten minutes and I want you to be kneeling.
"You want to cum? Then solve the problem. You can't? Well, I guess this vibrator is going to keep torturing your clit~"
"Oh baby, you poor ass is so red! Let's make your pussy red too."
"Of course you got the promotion, my darling. Only a genius like you is fit to be with someone like me."
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star-crossed-sluts · 6 months ago
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Matt Murdock X Chubby!Fem!Reader
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Contents: 2.2k words, love confession/discussion, cheeky reader, giggly sex, chubby female reader, slight insecure reader but that's quickly solved, mentions of bullying regarding weight though very brief
Minors DNI
You are responsible for your own media consumption
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You've dealt with strange looks all your life. It wasn't surprising their whispers had infiltrated your mind. Often you managed to catch yourself, stopping the thoughts that weren't quite yours. When you first met Matt, the most frequent one was, of course, you could only get a blind man to like you. It was cruel, and you tried to chase it away every time, but there was a small part of you that thought, if only I can keep him from touching me, we can go on like this. 
Because you were a fool. 
He always grabs your hips first, almost a warning of the devil to come. 
“What’re you doing up,” he rumbled against your neck, voice thick with sleep. You're half-sure he’s subconsciously tracking how long you've been away from his arms every night, waking himself when the timer passes your usual bathroom breaks’ duration. 
His hands push even further, rubbing your sides until he's gripped two handfuls of your soft stomach. Bare chest plastered against your back, his grip manhandling your hips back to meet his. You used to shy away from his touch, wanting to keep the you from reality separate from the you he's crafted in his mind's eye. 
Little hard to feel ashamed of your body when he was rocking his hard-on against your ass.
“You're insatiable, Matthew.” 
His groan was pained, like you were terribly twisting his arm instead of letting him fondle you in the kitchenette. “Don't call me Matthew,” he griped, one hand searching for the bottom of your nightshirt. “Reminds me of my priest.” 
You leaned into him, a fond smile playing on your lips as he found the edge of your panties, starting to leave open-mouthed kisses down your neck. “Because you’re such an altar boy,” you joked as his fingers trailed the hem, outlining the curve where your leg met your mound. You know the moment he thinks of a retort, because his lips twitch against your pulse.
“Well, I do seem to spend a lot of time on my knees-” He burst into laughter as your elbow came back at him, letting you attack his ribs to distract you from the way his hand explored your upper thigh. “Abuse,” he accused, “attacking a blind man!”
“It’s alright, I know a great lawyer.”
Matt chuckled against the thrumming vein in your neck, his grip on your stomach pulling you tighter against him. “Yeah? You know, my rates are pretty steep, but I think we can come up with some alternative payment.”
“I was talking about Foggy.”
His laugh flew out of him, taken completely off guard, and sent you into manic giggles right along with him, throwing yourself back against his chest to hold you upright. “You're terrible,” he cackled, tugging you to shuffle backwards to the bedroom with him. “Come back to bed, trouble.” 
“Oh, don't you start with me,” you faux-threatened, but still gave in and helped him navigate the living room. “You're so much more trouble than I am.” 
He pretended to mull it over, hmm-ing and mmm-ing between soft kisses on your neck. “Alright,” he decided, “I'll let you have that one. Y'know, since you obviously need a win right now.” 
You hit the mattress, helping each other climb into bed like you hadn't been in months, as opposed to the twenty minutes it took you to make and drink your sleep aid. Only when you were wrapped in each other's arms again did you gush, “oh, yes, obviously. How can I thank you, Matty?”
Who could ever think you were anything but beautiful - that he thought you were anything but stunning - when he got such an eager, bashful grin at the suggestion. When his entire face lit up with a pink hue, as if he hasn't helped himself to your body any chance he got. How long have you lived together, and he still got that cute crinkle in the corners of his eyes with the force of his beaming as he dove for your lips. 
“Y'know,” he murmured into your mouth, “I was disappointed when I woke up and you were gone.” 
You dragged your hands down his bare back, snapping his waistband with a grin. “Oh yeah?” 
“Yeah,” he emphasized, like he was offended by the teasing tone you took with him, snapping your underwear. A warning that he was ready to give as good as he got. “It's not nice to leave your boyfriend all alone in bed.”
You hummed, pretending to really consider that as you let him pull you to straddle his hips. He helped you out of your night shirt, tossing the thin fabric aside and letting out a pleased groan as you plastered your chest to his. You dragged your lips softly over his jaw, a smile twitching into place as he chased you, trying to catch a kiss. “Are you saying you think I should make it up to you?” 
“I'm saying it's been entirely too long since you've sat on my face.” 
A laugh burst from you at that, even as Matt peeled your underwear down your thighs. “Oh, yes, it's already been several days!”
“Exactly: it's been days,” he groaned, offering his hands for you to balance as you tossed around to escape the cotton around your knees, working them down one leg, then the other. 
“Next time,” you promised with a soft kiss, nimble fingers working the strings on his pants. “I drank my-”
“Your sleepy girl mocktail?” He grinned like he could feel your embarrassed glare, kissing the pout off your lips. “Can taste it. You added honey tonight?” 
“I needed something to make it sweeter,” you huffed. A tap on his hip and he lifted them for you, helping you work his pants off. You couldn't help a smile as his dick slapped his stomach, leaving a smudge of pearly precum on his smooth skin. “You're such an evil man,” you accused, wrapping your fingers around his base to watch the way his hips jerked into your palm. A stroke with your thumb along that thick vein and he leaked another stream, dripping down the side of him and onto your hand. “You're this hard when you've been teasing your poor girlfriend?” 
Your hips moved on their own when he slid two thick fingers between his lips, grinding against him as he laved his tongue over the digits. That smug grin you hated to love spread across his face as his wet fingers fit themselves to your slit, one rubbing soft shapes into your clit while the other pressed inside you. “My poor girlfriend,” he mused, “who never gets off on teasing me?” 
You shut him up with a kiss, trying to smother his chuckles that told you he knew exactly what you were doing. Still, it didn't stop him from taking advantage, pressing his tongue into your mouth, tasting every inch of you. The bitterness of the tart cherry juice and the sweetness of the honey from your drink dancing on his tongue, disappointingly hiding the taste of you that he's begun to crave. If he pushed deeper, he could almost imagine he found it again, in the back of your throat where nothing could reach but him. Somehow it felt even more intimate than the way you worked each other up with your hands: being the only one to know what you taste like behind the toothpaste and soda you cycled through daily. 
Matt's no idiot. He hears the comments you get, feels the stares - sometimes even more than you do. He wished he could find a way to tell you how wrong they were, but how would he even begin? How do you tell someone that when you wake up alone, the first thing you do is listen for where your girlfriend’s gone? That you could sculpt her exactly from how much you touch her, desperate to commit her to memory. How do you tell someone that even without your sight, your every sense is devoted to her?
He supposed he could settle for making you see stars while he figured it out.
You grinned against Matt's lips, a slight giggle falling out, as he rolled you onto your back. You were always tempted to make fun of him for his favorite position, but there was nothing Catholic about the way he took you.
Your hands kept working his cock as he arranged you - hooking your knees over the crooks of his elbows so he could feel your thick thighs pressed against him - to hear him curse under his breath. “Careful,” he warned, kissing his way down the side of your neck, “or we'll be up all night,”
“Mm, is that supposed to discourage me?” 
A strained laugh against your tender skin as you gave a particularly harsh tug. “You think you're so cute,” he managed out, trying to sound anything other than reverent.
You shared a chaste kiss as you guided him between your thighs. “I'm adorable,”
“Yes, you are. Arms around my neck, angel.” 
You always ended up the same way when one or the other needed some love. Nose to nose, lips glancing off each other like you were shy teenagers again. Your legs over Matt's arms gave him the feeling of holding you completely, letting his hands wander to feel every reaction your body gave him. Your arms around his neck, letting you claw up his back or card through his soft hair, pull his mouth wherever you wanted it. 
A match made in heaven. 
Matt had long since broken you of your bad habit to muffle yourself, the breathy moan falling unhindered from your lips as he pressed into you like coming home. Your voice rang in the empty bedroom, more beautiful than any song, perfectly accompanied by the slick sounds from your cunt as he started a slow, grinding pace. Your hands clenched and unclenched, scratching the base of his neck as you lost yourselves in each other. Lips connected in passing swipes, sharing a deep kiss and almost separating before diving back in. His fingers traced every curve, dip and fold of your soft skin, reveling in your body the way only a man truly in love could. 
The word haunted him until he told you. “Love you,” he managed through heaving breaths, soft and quiet in the privacy of the bed you shared. Then, as if afraid you hadn’t heard him, he said it louder. “I’m in love with you, y’know that?” 
“Matty,”
A great big grin spread over his face when you whined, ankles locking together behind him like you thought he’d stop talking if he fucked you deeper. “Why so shy,” he hummed, stealing another wet kiss. “You didn’t know that? I don’t tell you enough?” He felt your feet kick and your lips turn into a pout, laughing at your mini fit. 
“‘S different,” you insisted, dragging him back to your lips, only to pull him back once you’ve thought of a defense. “In love is bigger than love.” 
It’s a conversation you had in the early stages, when friendship was just barely turning into something more, when you were both stuck dropping hints, hoping the other would make the leap. You didn’t think he remembered until he managed to quote you with his hips pressed into yours. “‘Love is a feeling you can’t control, being in love is a choice- a commitment,’ I know.” He plunged into you as deeply as he could, bringing your lips to his with his palms cupping your round cheeks. He only pulled back when you were both struggling to breathe, searching each other’s air for anything you could get from it. “I,” he enunciated carefully, making sure he left no room for misinterpretation, “am hopelessly in love with you, darling. I choose you every hour of the day. I would choose you in a room of women, I would choose you if you were a worm, and in every other ridiculous scenario that you let keep you up at night.” He heard your lips part as your jaw went slack, smelled the salt of your budding tears as he ranted to you. He pressed a chaste kiss to your parted lips. “I know it’s bigger, and you don’t have-”
“I’m in love with you.”
He felt his heart thump in his chest, beating its way out as you dragged him down to your level, smacking a hundred split-second kisses to every inch of his face. “I love you, I am in love with you, I would pick you- I love you so much, Matty!” 
He pulled your hips up higher on his lap so he could get closer to you, arms wrapped around your waist pulling you into his chest until there wasn’t a breath of air between you. His firm body pressing into your soft one like he could make a home in your chest, let you surround him until you would never have to be apart. 
“I hope you realize we’ll definitely be up all night now,”
“I’m not the one who has court tomorrow,” 
A giddy laugh smothered in the crook of your neck as his hips started pumping into you again. “You are trouble,”
You pressed your lips to his temple. “Perfect match for you, then.”
“Yes, you are.”
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muniimyg · 8 days ago
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♡ 02: how you talk so sweet when you're doin' bad things
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series m.list // taglist
note: ahh !!! thank u all for all the love with pt 1 :) drama begins in pt 3 !!! enj their good moments while it lasts (aka this pt) lmk what u think of their dynamic & if u have any predictions for whats to cum ;) HAHAH mwaaa
also !! happy birthday @jkslvsnella 🌟 thank u for always reading and loving my work 💛
warnings: mean!jk exposes oc (she's a virgin) ,, banter
//
the dim neon lights of the arcade cast a playful glow over the group as they gather by the bar. laughter and overlapping chatter fill the air, but jungkook’s eyes dart toward the entrance, scanning every face that walks in.
he blinks, trying to recenter himself.
why the fuck is he waiting for you?
��do you guys want to play a hoop shoot round?” yoongi suggests, leaning lazily against the counter. “loser buys the next round.”
the guys snicker but agree. without much discussion, they begin heading toward the games, but jungkook lingers behind, hesitating to speak.
there’s a weird feeling that stirs inside him.
he wants to stay and wait for you—wants everyone to stay and wait for you (though he knows how ridiculous that sounds).
his mouth opens, about to call them back, when—
“___!” jimin’s voice cuts through the noise. “over here! great timing!”
jungkook stiffens, tilting his head and clearing his throat as he notices you walking in.
you weave through the scattered crowd, waving casually to the group. your jacket hangs lazily off one shoulder, your hair is slightly windswept, and your lips are parted, like you’re already preparing some half-assed excuse.
“you’re late,” jungkook mutters, his tone sharp as you greet the others with warm hugs and him with a smug smile.
“no shit, mr. know-it-all,” you shoot back, rolling your eyes before awkwardly shifting closer to him for a quick, half-hearted hug.
he doesn’t even unfold his arms, patting your back stiffly—once, twice, three times.
“whatever.”
“didn’t know you took attendance. god, what don’t you do?”
“be late,” he quips, voice clipped.
you scoff, pulling away and swatting his chest. “nerdy of you, but whatever. we all have to accept our flaws one day. acknowledging them is the first step, or so they say.”
“it’s courtesy to show up on time,” he snaps, leaning casually against a nearby pinball machine. his eyes rake over you like he’s trying to solve a puzzle he’s losing patience for. “figured you’d get lost or trip over your own feet.”
“oh, bite me,” you retort, stepping closer and crossing your arms. “maybe find something better to do than waiting for me, hmm? something better to do than—”
before you can finish, a rowdy group stumbles toward the air hockey table behind you, shoving their way through the already cramped space.
jungkook moves without thinking, his hands firm on your waist as he pulls you aside and switches places with you.
“move,” he says bluntly, his grip barely lingering before he steps away again.
you freeze, your words dying in your throat. the touch—the casual way he did it, the way his hands fit so naturally—throws you off. your heart stutters for reasons you can’t quite name.
“what are you—”
“you’re in the way,” he interrupts, already back to leaning against the pinball machine like nothing happened.
“shit, jungkook,” you manage, trying to sound unaffected. “you can’t just move me like that. i almost thought you cared about me.”
“would you rather get knocked into the air hockey table?” he says flatly. “didn’t think so.”
you narrow your eyes at him, brushing past whatever just passed between you.
“fine,” you say with exaggerated calm, stepping away. “thank you… i guess.”
“what was that?”
“i said what i said.”
“say it again.”
“no.”
“don’t make me beg for something i deserve,” he groans, his tone a mix of mock irritation and teasing.
you roll your eyes. “sure… i’ll say it again—for the right price.”
“oh?” his brow lifts, and he’s already following after you. “how much are you charging these days?”
you turn back to glare at him, making a face as he smirks.
what you don’t see, what no one else notices, is how closely jungkook walks behind you as you move through the crowd. his hand hesitates near your waist again before he drops it, settling instead for angling his body, subtly shielding you from the chaos of the arcade.
it’s instinctive, unconscious—a quiet sort of care that he’d never admit to. but it’s just how jungkook is when you aren’t looking.
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the air buzzes with the sounds of arcade games—buzzers, dings, and conversation on top of conversation. by now, the group has gravitated towards the hoop-shoot machines, their competitive banter echoing as they took turns missing shots.
when nam joon’s ball bounces dramatically off the rim, nearly taking out jimin, they all collapse into laughter.
"okay, okay!" taehyung claps his hands. "before anyone gets concussed, let's take a group photo!"
everyone gathers in front of the machines, huddling close together. you find yourself standing beside jungkook, his towering figure crowding your space as the guys shuffle to fit into the frame.
“move in,” jin calls out, holding up his phone. “no dead space.”
before you can step away, taehyung and yoongi each grab one of your shoulders, pushing you into jungkook’s side. his arm brushes yours, and when you glance up, he’s already rolling his eyes.
"stop squirming," he mutters.
"stop breathing down my neck," you bite back, earning a stifled laugh from yoongi.
“not my fault you’re short as fuck.”
“what about me do you not have a problem with, nerd?”
just as jungkook is about to tell you off, hobi hits his stomach and hisses at him. 
“shut the fuck up, smile, and—”
hobi bumps his hip with jungkook’s, causing him to lean closer to you. your head tilts and so does his. he clears his throat as he regains his balance. you continue to smile, pretending not to notice him looking at you. 
as the group poses, jin snaps several photos before pulling the phone down to review the shots. as everyone leans in to check the screen, a chorus of teasing begins.
"aw, look at that!" taehyung says, his grin spreading like wildfire as he leans closer to the phone screen. "this is a moment for the scrapbook. you two look so cute together."
the corner of jimin’s mouth twitches as he leans over taehyung’s shoulder, squinting at the photo before letting out a dramatic gasp.
“wait, is this… is this our it couple debuting right here? how did we miss this? it’s always those fucking enemies to lovers stories that hit… this could be it. oh my god!"
yoongi, not one to miss a beat, smirks from the side. 
“don't need to start. pretty sure the fanbase already exists.”
jin snorts. “don’t expose our late night conversations, bro. that’s our special bonding time.”
yoongi hisses at jin, smacking the back of his head for saying it so weird. 
"someone call dispatch," nam joon adds, cackling. "they're going viral as we speak."
"you’re joking,” you groan, face already warming as the guys snicker. “stop acting like it’s some movie poster. it’s just a group picture and—look at that! jungkook is looking at me like i’m stinky.”
“you are stinky.” jungkook scoffs.
you shove him playfully. “shut up.”
“oh no, it’s definitely poster-worthy,” jimin chimes in, nudging jungkook’s arm as he grins like a proud parent. "you can practically feel the sparks flying. jungkook’s over there pretending to hate it, but look at his hand. hovering like it’s meant to be."
"right?” hobi quips. “look at the way he’s leaning into her—”
jungkook glares. “hyung, you pushed me—”
“—bro’s living the rom-com life and doesn’t even know it.” hobi finishes. 
"yeah," yoongi deadpans, his lip curling in a mock-serious expression as he gestures vaguely at the photo. "what trope are you guys?”
"trope?" you snort, shooting a glance at Jungkook. “that’s going too far. i can’t be associated with him to that point. even angels like me have limits..”
"awh, don't ruin it," jimin teases. “you two look like you were made to stand next to each other. it’s fate, ___.”
"fate?" jungkook finally chimes in, his brow quirking as he scoffs. “more like bad luck. uglyass picture, by the way. jump-scare. trigger-warning. photoshop her out, please.”
his words are sharp, but the teasing rolls on, taehyung clapping jungkook on the back as he leans in closer. 
“don’t fight it, man. just admit it—you’re glowing.”
“you’re drunk.” jungkook grumbles, crossing his arms.
but even as he tries to brush it off, you catch the way his jaw ticks, the way his ears turn a faint shade of red. it almost makes you want to keep the teasing going.
almost.
you stretch over and take a proper look. 
your shoulders are pressed against jungkook’s, his hand awkwardly hovering near your back as if unsure where to put it. it’s ridiculous, but you decide to lean into the joke.
“awh,” you say, nudging him with a smirk. “wait. we do look cute together. look at you—nerdy boy finally getting close to the pretty girl. must be the highlight of your life.”
jungkook’s jaw tightens, and for a second, you think he might just let it slide. But then, his eyes narrow, and the smugness in his tone cuts deeper than you expect.
“yeah?” he says, his voice low and dripping with sarcasm. “because the pretty girl who’s still a virgin at twenty-four is such a catch, right? must be fun carrying the weight of no guy ever wanting that kind of pressure.”
the air stills.
“what?” jungkook asks, unsure of why everyone’s mood suddenly shifted. “guys, we don’t need to hold ___’s hand for this. her situationships aren’t real. no guy wants her and it’s because of all her fucking issues… so don’t tease me about shit like that. why would i want her? she’s too fucked up.”
your heart sinks as the laughter dies around you, the guys exchanging awkward glances. you force a tight smile, shrugging as if the jab didn’t just land in the worst way possible.
“ha… ha… yeah. sure. what he said,” you mutter, slipping out of the group without looking back.
you weave through the crowd, the din of the arcade becoming background noise to the rush of your thoughts. yoongi and nam joon sigh and excuse themselves to follow you. 
“fuck,” taehyung groans at jungkook. “for a nerd, you aren’t that smart."
jungkook throws his head back.
"okay, fine. i went too far."
taehyung forces a laugh and pats jungkook's shoulder. "i just... i don't why do you always shit the bed when it comes to ___. would it kill you consider her feelings once in a while?"
"she started it—"
"we started it," taehyung corrects him. "you fuck it up and then we have to fix it. why can't we start it and you figure it out?"
"what's there to figure out?"
taehyung sighs.
"seriously, what's there to figure out?" jungkook repeats, his voice rough with frustration, though there’s a slight tension in his jaw, as if he’s trying to keep himself in check.
taehyung runs a hand through his hair like he’s had this conversation a million times before. “you overthink everything, man. just… talk to her. it’s not that hard.”
jungkook scoffs. "i talk to her."
"yeah right," taehyung shoots back, now leaning in closer, his eyes narrowing with a mixture of concern and exasperation. "she isn't gonna stick around forever... especially with all the shit you pull. is it that hard to show that you care for her? even just a little bit? you can even fake it for all we care... just... stop doing this. stop fucking it up."
jungkook opens his mouth to retort, but then he just...
doesn’t.
he falls silent, his gaze drifting over to where you’re standing, still laughing with yoongi, oblivious to the conversation happening behind her. his expression softens for a moment, but the tension doesn’t fully leave his shoulders.
“... i don’t know what to say to her,” jungkook mutters after a long pause, his voice quieter this time, almost vulnerable.
taehyung rolls his eyes, his voice taking on a teasing edge again.
"i'm not asking you to be perfect," taehyung says, his tone suddenly serious. "i just want you to try.”
jungkook's eyes narrow, but he doesn’t argue.
he knows taehyung’s right.
and the idea of trying—really trying—is both terrifying and somehow comforting. it’s just a matter of taking the first step.
"alright, alright. i get it." jungkook sighs, running a hand through his hair. "but if i mess it up again…"
“you will,” taehyung says with a grin, smacking him on the back. “and when you do, we’ll be here to clean up your mess.”
jungkook groans. "great. thanks. god, you guys are impossible."
taehyung just laughs, clapping him on the shoulder.
"that’s what friends are for."
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“that one’s cute,” you say softly, pointing to a pastel plushie trapped inside the glass case. “but aren’t these things rigged?” 
yoongi glances at the plushie, then back at you, offering a faint smile. “hello kitty? can’t you just buy it in store?”
“it’s different.”
“how so?”
“winning it is better. means more.”
he laughs at you. ruffling your hair, he asks; “think you can win it?”
“probably not,” you admit with a dry laugh, rubbing the back of your neck. “i suck at these things.”
unbeknownst to you, jungkook has followed, lingering a few steps behind. 
he watches quietly as you and yoongi chat, his arms folded across his chest, his usual cocky posture softened just enough to give off a more contemplative vibe. his gaze shifts to the hello kitty plushie you pointed out, taking in every detail—the soft pastel fabric, the little bow. 
his jaw tightens.
for a second, he looks almost… distant. something flickers across his face—a mix of regret, maybe? or determination? it’s hard to tell, and he’s quick to push the thought aside. he can’t figure out why this damn hello kitty plushie is bothering him, but it does.
his hands shift in his pockets, fingers brushing against the cool edges of his arcade card. the sound of you and yoongi laughing lightly as you move on to a different machine pulls him out of his trance. 
he’s still standing there, staring at the claw machine, his mind reeling.
get it together, he tells himself. it's a stupid fucking hello kitty plushie.
but as the two of you move further away, jungkook finds his feet taking him toward the claw machine. his body moves on its own, a subtle, almost unconscious determination settling into his posture. he steps up to the machine, his heart thumping a little louder than usual.
with a quick flick of his wrist, he taps the arcade card to the screen, paying for a round. The soft beep of the machine filling the air is oddly satisfying. he glances at the claw, watches it shift slightly in the plastic case, and his mind sharpens. the whole world narrows down to this one moment—the claw, the plushie, and the stupid, ridiculous thought that maybe, just maybe, it would mean something.
he leans in a little closer to the machine, his focus narrowing as his fingers hover just over the controls. his chest tightens, just a little.
but there’s something about this—about trying—that feels...
new.
almost like he's playing for something that’s not just a game.
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as the arcade starts to empty out, the night comes to an end.
the group begins to break into separate plans. some were heading out for more drinks, the usual late-night crowd craving more chaos, while others, like you and jungkook, were heading home. yoongi, standing beside you both, clapped jungkook on the shoulder and offered a casual “see you later,” his eyes lingering a moment too long on the tension that still hung between you two.
by now, jungkook had tried to apologize multiple times throughout the night. too many times to count—but each time, you’d brushed him off, walking away before he could finish his words.
it was the same pattern that had played out earlier, with him following close behind, trying to make up for whatever had gone wrong, but you’d always managed to slip out of his reach, words left unsaid and apologies unacknowledged.
as you stepped outside into the crisp night air, the glow of neon signs casting faint colors over the sidewalk, you took a deep breath. the cool wind ruffled your hair, and you tucked a stray strand behind your ear, eyes darting to the ground, avoiding jungkook’s gaze.
“my hinge crush of the week wants to meet up… so, bye!” jimin called out, adjusting his jacket as he moved toward the waiting uber.
the others offered their farewells, the air filled with laughs and promises to meet again soon.
jungkook is quiet, his eyes still on you, a knot of frustration building in his stomach.
as you’re about to turn away, he finally speaks. his voice is soft but firm.
“can i drive you home?”
you don’t even look at him, a slight shake of your head as you took a step back.
“i’m good. thanks for the offer.”
he takes a slow step forward, determination flashing in his eyes.
“shit, ___. come on, don’t be like that. it’s late. i’m not letting you walk home alone.”
“i’m fine,” you reassure him again, taking another step away. “they’re all gone. you can stop pretending you care—w-whoa—“
but as you turn to leave, the way you step gets caught on a loose patch of pavement, and before you can stop yourself, you stumble forward. your heart lurches in your chest as your body lurches toward the ground. 
but a strong and steady hand grips your waist, pulling you back against a solid chest.
“fuck, watch your step—” jungkook mutters, his voice lower now, a hint of something you couldn’t quite place in it. his grip tightened just enough to keep you from stumbling again.
you freeze for a second, your breath catching as his fingers brushed against your side, his body warm against yours. the shock of his touch sent a strange shiver down your spine, but before you could react, his voice comes again, this time with a soft but unmistakable smirk.
“you’re all out of choices now.”
his words hang in the air as he takes your waist, gently but firmly guiding you toward his car. the playful edge in his voice made your stomach flip.
he doesn’t wait for a response.
he pulls you closer as you walk together. 
you want to pull away. 
you want to protest, but something about the way he holds you—steady, unwavering���makes it impossible to do anything but follow. 
so, you give in. 
you slide into the passenger seat of jungkook’s car, the leather cold against your legs as you settle in. the familiar scent of his cologne fills the small space, mixing with the faint scent of his car’s interior. before you can even close the door, jungkook is already moving to the driver’s side, slipping in next to you with practiced ease.
he turns the key, the engine rumbling to life, and immediately, he leans over to help you with your seatbelt. his hand brushes against yours, sending a strange flutter through your chest as his fingers fumble with the latch, and you try not to think too much about how gentle his touch is.
“thanks,” you mumble, turning your head toward the window, avoiding his gaze. 
the tension between you two still lingers, thick and heavy, but neither of you says anything, and soon the quiet hum of the engine fills the air instead.
the drive starts out like most others, the city lights blinking past the windows as jungkook takes a turn, his hands steady on the wheel. but then, as the cool night air seeps in through the slightly cracked window, you suddenly feel the chill of the evening air hit your skin, a shiver running down your spine.
you don’t even have to say anything. without a word, jungkook pulls off his jacket, glancing over at you. 
“you cold?” he asks, his voice low, almost concerned, but his eyes are still focused on the road.
before you can respond, his white jacket is draped over your shoulders like a blanket. 
it’s warm, soft—still holding the faint trace of his warmth—and for a moment, you find yourself frozen, not sure whether you should pull it off or accept the comfort. but it’s his gesture, the way he’s silently taking care of you, and the faint thought that maybe he’s not such an ass after all, that makes you just pull the jacket tighter around yourself, not saying anything.
the silence stretches on, with only the sound of his car’s engine and the soft tunes filling the air, low music that drowns out everything else.
it’s a little uncomfortable. 
a little too close. 
and yet, somehow, you don’t mind it.
minutes pass, and you can’t help but notice how the buildings are getting fewer, how the city streets are slipping behind, and suddenly, it hits you—he’s not turning into your neighborhood.
“wait,” you finally speak up, your voice sounding strangely foreign in the quiet car. “you just passed my place.”
he doesn’t even glance over at you, just keeps driving, his eyes focused on the road ahead. 
“i know.”
“then where are you going?” you ask, trying to keep your voice steady, but a flicker of annoyance laces your tone. “jungkook, what the hell?”
“the only way for you to talk to me,” he says, his voice calm but with a touch of something else beneath it. 
something you can’t quite place.
“what?” you blink, confusion clouding your thoughts. “this is considered kidnapping.”
jungkook chuckles, the sound low and almost playful.
“only way for you to talk to me, like i said.”
you narrow your eyes at him, a mix of frustration and something else building inside you. 
“you’re seriously driving me around for what, exactly? to waste gas? to waste your time?”
“to wait for you.”
“oh my god,” you stress. “you and your fucking words.”
he smirks. “are they working?”
you gulp. 
“come on, ___. act like a bitch all night, i don’t care… but you’re gonna talk to me.”
you’re quiet for a moment, staring out the window, watching the city blur past. the absurdity of the situation sinks in, but it’s also hard to ignore the fact that you’re starting to feel a strange sense of... comfort in his presence.
“fine,” you finally say, voice quiet but sharp. “what do you want me to say, huh? you’ve been apologizing all night and i’ve been brushing you off. you said what you said. it’s done.”
jungkook shifts in his seat, and for the first time, you notice how his grip tightens on the wheel, how his jaw clenches ever so slightly. 
“keep talking.”
“i’m done.”
“no,” he insists. “i don’t care what you say… i just need you to talk to me, ___. that’s all.”
you don’t respond right away, not sure how to react to that admission, or if it’s even true. but the way his words hang in the air, the sincerity behind them, makes you want to crack open. 
makes you want to say something—anything—but the walls are still up.
“do you want me to fuck you or something?” 
your eyes widen and your throat goes dry. 
what the fuck did he just say?
“excuse me?” 
jungkook then pulls over, parking his car at some random street. his car lights and the lamppost nearby are the only light sources… but that doesn’t stop you from knowing how close he is to you. you don’t need much light—you feel it. you feel his presence. 
“is that why your panties are in a twist? you need dick or something? you’ve been acting weird since you overheard me fucking—”
“i don’t want to know her name.” 
jungkook blinks at you. 
“... so you are bothered by her.”
you pause. 
“n-no. no, i’m not. it’s just… weird. i don’t want to know because i don’t want to know.”
“okay,” jungkook nods. “can i know something then?”
you hesitate. 
“do you forgive me yet? i… i fucked up. i’m sorry, __. seriously. that wasn’t cool of me.” 
you take a breath in. 
“i forgive you,” you admit. “but be honest with me. did you mean it?”
jungkook shakes his head profusely. 
“no,” he confesses. “no, i didn’t mean it. i think it’s cute that you’re a virgin—”
“stop!” you cry, throwing your hands to cover your face. “shut up.”
he laughs, finding your panic a little cute. 
“what? you never get horny?” 
you drop your hands, completely dumbfounded at how this conversation has unfolded in a matter of minutes. 
“i do,” you tell him. 
“with what? with who?” 
you tilt your head and squint at him. 
“curious?”
“disgusted, actually.” he mocks you. 
you can’t help but let out a laugh.  
then, a silence falls upon you two. 
but… it’s an okay kind. the kind where you two aren’t mad at each other and everything is truly lighthearted. it’s a rare kind of atmosphere for you two share. 
the tension that had once been suffocating now feels more like a slow burn, simmering quietly in the space between you. it’s strange, this shift. but it’s also... comforting.
in a way, it’s like stepping onto solid ground after floating in the middle of an ocean for too long.
you glance over at jungkook, his profile soft in the dim light from the streetlamps. his fingers are gripping the steering wheel lightly, his knuckles slightly pale, like he’s trying to keep himself grounded too. he’s not saying anything, but his presence is loud. in some ways, that’s all you need. 
that he’s here. 
that you’re both here, together, after all the back and forth, all the words exchanged, the small cracks and the moments of silence.
the question comes out before you can stop it, and you almost want to take it back the second it leaves your mouth. 
but you’re already committed. 
"think i could do it?" you say, voice softer than you intended, more vulnerable than you meant.
jungkook shifts in his seat slightly, his eyes flicking toward you.
“do what?"
"get you to want me?"
for a split second, you think you’ve gone too far. 
jungkook is quiet for a long time, and you can feel the weight of his gaze on you. he doesn’t move, doesn’t speak. it’s like he’s weighing the question, figuring out if you mean it. if it’s just some fleeting thought, or if you’re really standing here, raw and honest, in the middle of it all.
and then he speaks, his voice low but steady, a hint of something in it that you can’t quite place.
“why would you want that?”
the question catches you off guard, and for a moment, you’re unsure of how to respond. but then you think about it, really think about it. 
"i don’t know."
the vulnerability is almost too much, too raw. 
it feels like every inch of you is laid bare, exposed in a way you weren’t sure you could handle. you stare at your hands, anything to avoid the intensity of his gaze, but it’s there, lingering in the quiet air between you. it fills the space, like you can feel every word left unsaid pressing against your chest.
jungkook doesn’t say anything right away, the silence stretching long enough that you start to wonder if maybe you said the wrong thing. maybe you pushed too far, too fast.
but then, he speaks.
"wanna find out?"
his voice is low, almost teasing, but there's something else there too—something that makes your heart skip a beat. 
you glance up at him, your eyes meeting his again, and you realize in that moment that this is where it all comes together. the question, the hesitation, the rawness of it all. 
he’s not pulling away, not like you expected.
he’s waiting…
for you.
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simonrileysfavteacup · 8 months ago
Text
Training
Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x gf!reader
Word Count: 600
Warnings: simon being slutty n walking around in grey sweatpants, playfighting, minor smut, mentions to sex
Summary: Simon teaches you to fight.
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After the attack on you, Simon became panicked. 
The more he loved you, the more people would use you as his weakness. He knew one thing. 
He wouldn’t always be there to protect you. 
So you would have to know how to protect yourself. 
So there he was. Moving the sofa in your shared apartment, creating a bit of space. He laid down a throw blanket. It was small, but it would work. He was shirtless, in just his grey sweatpants. 
You, however, stood off to the side, watching him move your pullout sofa with little effort. You take a deep breath as he calls you into the makeshift fighting ring.
“Okay, lovie,” he starts. “Hit me. As har’ as you can.”
You throw a weak punch at his chest. He doesn’t even blink. 
“Lovie, what the absolute fuck was ‘at?”
“A punch…”
“Lovie, ‘at wasn’t even a poke. Try again.”
You hit him again, a bit harder. His chest is like a rock. You pull your hand back after the impact, wincing as your first stings. “Ow! You’re like wood! That’s not fair!”
“Yer doing everythin’ wron’.”
You pout at his words, “I’ve never fought before…I’m just…I don’t wanna do this anymore.”
He shakes his head, “Too bad. Lovie, ‘m doin’ this for you. Now, come on, I’ll show ya.” He fixes your posture, “Keep tension here. Pull your first back. Shift your weight onto this foot.”
You shift, “This is hard.”
“Learn,” he puppets you, throwing a faux punch with your hand. “Like that.” 
You throw a better punch, finally making him stumble. Just slightly. 
“That was better. Again.”
He teaches you numerous kicks, punches, and even a way to hold a person and put pressure on their neck. He tells you to demonstrate, to hit him, but your eyes are focused on something else. 
His abs.
His arms look so good, so huge. His abs glisten with the smallest amount of sweat. He looks so good.
“Lovie,” he snaps in front of your face. “Oi. Focus.”
Your eyes snap up to his, “You’re distracting me.” 
“Am I?” he flexes. 
You gasp, “Asshole.”
He smiles, “Deal with i’. Now come on, we have work to do.”
“Fine,” You strip off your shirt, your bra hugging your tits. “Let’s go.”
His eyes lock on your tits. 
You chuckle, snapping your fingers in front of his face, mocking him. “Lovie, my eyes are up here.”
“Fuck this,” he tackles you onto your couch, pressing his lips to your exposed skin. 
***
“Okay,” Simon says, putting your ear protectors on. “All good?”
You give him a thumbs up. He presses his front into your back, puppeting you. He aims the gun into your hand at the target. 
“Okay, shoot.” 
The shot echoes off the walls of the shooting range. Your bullet hits the dummy’s shoulder. 
“Nice! ‘Ats not bad, lovie!” Simon smiles wide, kissing your temple. “Again.”
You shoot again. It hits the left pec. Another kiss. 
Another shot. Hits the neck. Another kiss. 
Simon lets you practise for another 10 minutes. He feels proud. Too proud. “Lovie?”
You stop. “Hmm?”
“You’re great. Can we go home now, hmm?” 
“Okay,” you smile, taking off the protectors. “Thanks for teaching me this.”
“After what happened, I’d be a fool not to,” he kisses you. “Yer my whole life.”
He presses himself into you. 
“Now, we’ve got a little problem. Yer solving it in the car. Let’s go. Legs spread.”
2K notes · View notes
chuluoyi · 9 months ago
Text
studying for dummies
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- fushiguro megumi x reader
you have an important exam coming up and are having a hard time to study. luckily, your boyfriend knows how to make you feel better
genre/warnings: college au, total fluff !!!
notes: i love writing college aus for megumi bc he never got the chance to in that cursed manga called jjk :') to the nonnie who asked for this, i knew i have to write it when i received your ask ehe <3
general masterlist
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"Why is this so hard..."
Megumi turned to you, sliding his headphones off with a questioning look when he heard you sigh once again, plopping your head down on the textbook. "What if I don't make it? What if I have to repeat a year? Ugh..."
Megumi continued to stare at you, with a flat expression. "So long as you study, you'll pass."
You threw him a sullen look, irked. "I know that! But studying itself is hard!"
The graduation exam was fast approaching and everyone in your grade was losing their head for a reason. Well, not your boyfriend though. While you were busy cramming your poor brain with ethics and physics in his apartment, Megumi was leisurely stuffing his ears with his headphones and catching up to the latest chapter of his favorite manga, without any care of the impending doom.
"You have to take breaks," he scolded then, truly meaning well. "You can't go on without food or rest. And don't overthink it, I'm sure you'll—"
"That's easy for you to say, Megumi—you're a natural genius," you interjected, crestfallen. The stress of failing several tryouts just got to you before you realized it. "Unlike you, I'm a dummy. I have to actually study."
Megumi remained quiet, watching as you turned back to your textbook, determined to give it another shot. Seeing your discouraged expression, something in his heart softened slightly.
And in that moment, he knew what he had to do to lift your spirits up.
He walked over to the little kitchen in his apartment to whip you some lunch, and throughout it all, you were still fixated on your studies, occasionally talking to yourself.
"Can Yuji even solve this problem...? I can take being called dumb but surely I can't be worse than him!"
Megumi found it amusing that you used his best friend as your benchmark for passing. Your way of expressing it brought out a low chuckle from him. How adorable.
Many were wondering what made him to date you—Fushiguro Megumi was always on the top of his class, stoic and indifferent, while you were just... you, a go-getter with cheerful personality that made up most of your academic shortcomings.
To Megumi, you were like a ball of sunshine that he didn't know he needed though. And now, wanted to protect.
While you were still lost in your thoughts and tangled up in physics concepts, he came back to you, gently patting your shoulder. "Hey, I made lunch. Want to join me?"
And needless to say, your eyes lit up with literal stars as you whipped your head towards him. "Yeah!"
Seeing you that excited made something inside Megumi soar. He had always been fond of your smiling face. Watching the fatigue melted a bit from you as you sat down in front of him, a subtle smile found its way onto his lips as well.
"Ooh, hotpot! Megumi, thank you!"
"Yeah, yeah..."
"Mmm! This is tasty!"
"Mm-hmm, have your fill."
You were giddy as you finished your lunch. It was evident that he had prepared the hotpot with your preferences in mind, choosing almost all of your favorite ingredients.
And you were feeling daring now that you knew that he was keeping you in his thoughts.
"Megumi, if I can score higher than 70% in that exam..." you started, smile gradually widening. "Can we celebrate it by going on an overnight trip to Kyushu afterwards? You know... just a little something to look forward to..."
Your boyfriend immediately fixed you with his unwavering gaze, even with his cheeks still filled with rice. But he didn't dwell on it long as he nodded lightly. "Sure."
"Really?!" you beamed, totally bursting with excitement. "Eeep! Megumi! You’re the best!"
How could he ever say no to you when your eyes were literally shimmering with glitters? Megumi never had it in him to. And hey, a trip for two to commemorate your graduation sounded so nice too, it was actually making him eager.
And so, with your tummy full and energy recharged, you enthusiastically redid your mock-up exam. And when you got 90% this time, Megumi actually initiated the first move and pulled you into his lap, giving you a light smooch on the cheek.
“Whoa...” you were so ready to tease him, poking his pink-tinted cheeks. “Do I get a kiss for every mock-up exam well done now?”
He huffed—flushing, turning away with slight frown. “To give you something to look forward to, remember?”
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paxtito · 25 days ago
Text
birthday girl
pairings: wednesday x reader
word count: 5.2k
warnings: none really, kissing and swearing here and there.
summary: wednesday was born november 13th, 2006, it’s her birthday soon so enid- being overly invested in your relationship- convinces you to plan a birthday surprise. you steal a very expensive book and put together an addams family themed escape room.
a/n: i’ve written quite a few fics since august so i’m just doing a little clear out of my drafts. apologies in advance for any mistakes. i’m no edgar allan poe expert, don’t come for me if the price is wrong.
MASTERLIST
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It’s officially November. Wednesday’s birth month. You wasn’t planning on doing anything for it out of respect to her boundaries but Enid’s constant yapping in your ear brought you to the brink of insanity.
“Jesus! Fine, Enid… We’ll plan something, okay? Stop talking my ear off.”
Enid squealed excitedly, clapping her hands together. "Oh my gosh, yes! This is going to be so much fun!"
You rolled your eyes but couldn't help the small smile tugging at your lips. Enid's enthusiasm was infectious, even if her ideas were sometimes a bit... much.
"Alright, let's brainstorm," Enid said, plopping down onto your bed next to you. "What does Wednesday like? Besides death and darkness, I mean."
You chuckled. "Well, she seems to enjoy solving mysteries and puzzles. And she has a thing for creepy crawlies… Dead things…”
Enid wrinkled her nose in distaste but nodded. "Okay, so maybe not a spa day then. How about a murder mystery party? We could invite everyone and have them dress up in costume!"
You shook your head. "Wednesday doesn't really do 'parties' or 'people'. She'd probably just end up killing someone for real."
"Good point," Enid sighed. "Hmm… What about a private escape room experience? Just the two of you, working together to solve some kind of creepy puzzle. That way it's intimate but still fits her interests."
You considered it. That actually didn't sound half bad. "Yeah, I could see her getting into that. Let me look into it."
Enid beamed. "Perfect! Oh, and don't forget her favorite foods - bugs and gross stuff. You could make her a special birthday cake with... I don't know, worms or something?"
You made a face. "I have to draw the line somewhere, Enid. I may love her, but I'm not putting actual worms in a cake… I’m not touching worms.” You grimace, a shiver running down your spine at the thought.
Enid pouted but nodded in understanding. "Fair enough. I guess you could always just make it look like there are worms in it. You know, like those chocolate bugs they sell online? That might be more her speed anyway.”
You shake your head firmly. "No food. Definitely no bugs or anything gross. I'm drawing the line there."
Enid sighs. "Alright, alright. No bugs in the food. But we need to get her something, right? Like a present?"
You nod, considering Enid's suggestion. "Yeah, a present is a good idea. But what do you get for the girl who has everything? Especially when 'everything' is basically just death-related shit."
Enid taps her chin thoughtfully. "Hmm... Maybe something personalized? Like a custom-made necklace with a little vial pendant that holds a drop of your blood or something."
You cringe. "Uh, no. Definitely not going to give her bloody jewelry. That's just weird."
"Okay, okay," Enid says, holding up her hands in surrender. "How about a book then? Like a rare edition of some creepy classic literature?"
You mull it over. Wednesday does love to read. "That's not a bad idea actually. I could look for a first edition copy of one of her favorite Edgar Allan Poe stories or something.“
Enid claps her hands together. "Yes! Oh, and you could inscribe it with a little personal message inside the cover. Something like 'To my darling Wednesday, may your days be as dark as your soul.' "
“Where would I get the money though?”
Enid smiles slyly, leaning in closer. "Well, you could always ask your parents for some birthday money. Or... you could sell some of your old junk online. I bet there are a ton of weirdos out there who would pay top dollar for your crusty gym socks or used toothbrushes."
You make a disgusted face. "Ew, Enid! That's gross. I'm not selling my dirty laundry to some freaks on the internet."
"Suit yourself," Enid shrugs. "But if you change your mind, I know a guy who runs a pretty lucrative online market for this kind of thing. He's always looking for new... supplies."
A week later, you and Enid are hunched over your laptop, scouring online bookstores for the perfect rare edition for Wednesday.
"Ooh, look at this one!" Enid exclaims, pointing at the screen. "It's a first edition of 'The Tell-Tale Heart' published in 1843. And it comes with a handwritten note from Poe himself!"
You lean in to take a closer look. The book does look impressive, with its aged leather binding and yellowed pages. But the price tag makes your eyes bulge. "$25,000?! Are you insane?"
Enid pouts. "C'mon, it's a collector's item! And it's not every day you find something this rare. Wednesday would love it!"
You shake your head. "I can't afford that, Enid. I'm just a high school student… I’ll steal it.. Where’s the store located?”
You lean back in your chair, rubbing your temples. Stealing a rare book from a specialized antique store sounds like a terrible idea, but you're desperate to impress Wednesday. Plus, you've always been pretty good at breaking and entering.
"The store is downtown, near the old theater district," Enid says, squinting at the screen. "It's called 'The Raven's Nest' - fitting, right? They specialize in rare horror literature and occult artifacts."
You smirk. "The Raven's Nest... I like it. Okay, here's the plan: we'll case the joint tonight, figure out their security system. Then tomorrow night, I'll break in and grab the book while you keep watch outside."
Enid looks nervous. "Are you sure about this? I mean, what if you get caught? What if there's some kind of magical protection on the book?"
You roll your eyes. "There's no such thing as magic, Enid. And I won't get caught - I'm the fucking master thief of Nevermore Academy.”
As you and Enid walk down the darkened streets of downtown, you can't help but feel a thrill of excitement coursing through your veins. The anticipation of pulling off this heist and surprising Wednesday with the perfect gift is almost too much to bear.
"Alright, here's the plan," you whisper to Enid as you approach the old brick building that houses The Raven's Nest. "I'm gonna scope out the back entrance while you check out the front. See if you can spot any security cameras or alarm systems."
Enid nods nervously, clutching her jacket tight around herself. "Got it. But be careful, okay? I don't want you ending up in jail or worse..."
You flash her a cocky grin. "Relax, Enid. I've got this. Nothing can stop me once I set my mind to something."
With that, you split up, each of you slipping into the shadows to survey the store. The back alley is dimly lit, with only a single flickering bulb casting a weak glow. You notice a rusty fire escape leading up to a second-story window - the perfect entry point.
Enid shivers, pulling her collar up against the chill night air. She scans the front of the building, noting the ornate iron gate and the dim lights from inside. There seem to be cameras positioned above the door, but no obvious alarms.
You quietly ascend the fire escape, each step sending a faint creak echoing through the alley. At the window, you peer inside, spotting rows of shelves packed with dusty tomes and strange artifacts. In the center of the room, a glass case catches your eye - and inside it, the priceless first edition of "The Tell-Tale Heart".
You carefully pry open the window, wincing as the old hinges let out a soft groan. With a deep breath, you hoist yourself inside, landing softly on the creaky wooden floorboards. The musty smell of old books and mothballs fills your nostrils as you creep through the shadowy aisles, your heart pounding in your chest.
As you approach the glass case, you can't help but marvel at the beauty of the ancient tome. The leather cover is worn and cracked with age, but the gold lettering still glints in the dim light. You reach out, your fingers trembling slightly as they brush against the cool glass.
Just then, a sudden noise from the front of the store makes you freeze. Footsteps, slow and deliberate, growing louder with each passing second. You glance around frantically, searching for a place to hide, but the open layout of the shop offers little cover.
Panic rising in your throat, you duck behind a nearby shelf, praying that whoever it is won't spot you. The footsteps grow closer, accompanied by the jingle of keys and the click of a lock being undone.
You hold your breath, pressing your back against the wall as the footsteps draw nearer. Your heart hammers in your chest, threatening to give away your position. The shop door creaks open, and a beam of light slices through the darkness, illuminating a section of the floor just inches from where you're hiding.
"Who's there?" a gruff voice calls out. "I know someone's in here!"
You remain perfectly still, barely daring to breathe. The light from the doorway sweeps across the room, and you shrink further into the shadows, praying that your black clothes will camouflage you against the dimness.
The footsteps move closer, the owner of the shop clearly searching for the intruder. You consider making a run for it, but the thought of being caught red-handed with the stolen book makes you hesitate.
The owner's footsteps pause just outside the aisle where you're hiding. Your palms are slick with sweat as you grip the edge of the shelf, preparing to bolt if necessary. The seconds tick by agonizingly slowly, each one feeling like an eternity.
Suddenly, a hand reaches around the corner, grasping at the air mere inches from your face. You flinch instinctively, but manage to hold your ground, not daring to make a sound. The owner steps into view, his thick-rimmed glasses reflecting the dim light as he scans the area.
"I've got you now, you little thief," he growls, his breath hot and rank as it washes over you. "Come on out, hands where I can see them!"
Your mind races, desperately trying to formulate an escape plan. You could try to overpower him, but he's significantly larger than you, and the risk of him calling the police is too high. No, you need to be smart about this.
As the owner takes another step forward, you make your move. Ducking low, you sprint past him, heading straight for the back of the shop.
The owner bellows in anger, his heavy footsteps thundering after you. "Stop, thief! I'm calling the cops!"
You don't dare look back, pouring every ounce of speed into your desperate flight. Your lungs burn as you race through the cramped aisles, dodging past stacks of books and leaping over precariously balanced piles of occult trinkets.
Just as you're certain the owner is about to catch you, you spot the back door. With a burst of adrenaline, you lunge for it, your fingers scrabbling at the handle. The door swings open, revealing the darkened alley beyond.
You tumble out into the night, the cool air hitting your face like a slap. Behind you, the owner's furious shouts echo from the shop, followed by the shrill ring of a phone - no doubt calling the police.
You don't stop running until you're several blocks away, your chest heaving and your legs burning with exertion. Only then do you allow yourself a moment to catch your breath, leaning heavily against a brick wall as you gasp for air.
You turn to Enid who’d been running after you, “you’re an amazing lookout..” You mumble sarcastically.
Enid looks absolutely terrified, her eyes wide and her face pale in the moonlight. She's breathing hard, her chest heaving with each ragged gasp. "I... I tried to warn you," she stutters, her voice trembling. "I saw him coming in and I ran to find you, but... but you were already gone."
You push off the wall, your legs still shaky from the adrenaline rush. "It's okay," you say, trying to sound calmer than you feel. "We got away, that's what matters… I got the book.”
You pull the book from your jacket, holding it up in the moonlight. The leather cover glistens, and you can't help but feel a surge of pride at your successful heist.
Enid's eyes widen as she takes in the ancient tome. "Wow," she breathes, "you actually did it. You stole a first edition Poe book!"
You grin, tucking the book safely back into your jacket. "Of course I did. I told you, I'm the best thief in town."
Enid shakes her head in disbelief. "I can't believe you just broke into a store and stole something. That's so... so..."
"Cool?" you suggest, raising an eyebrow.
Enid laughs nervously. "No, not cool. Crazy! You could have gotten in serious trouble."
You wave a dismissive hand. "But I didn't. And now Wednesday is going to have the most amazing birthday present ever."
Enid bites her lip, looking uncertain. "Are you sure about this? I mean, what if she finds out you stole it? She might be mad."
“She won’t. Trust me.”
After weeks of planning and anticipation, the day has finally arrived. You've managed to lure Wednesday out of the house under the pretense of a "special surprise", blindfolding her before she could ask too many questions. Now, as you guide her down the street towards the escape room, your heart is pounding with a mix of excitement and nervousness.
"Where are we going?" Wednesday asks, her voice muffled by the blindfold. "This better not be some kind of lame party or something."
You can't help but chuckle at her grumpy tone. "Relax, Wednesday. It's nothing like that. Just trust me, okay? I promise you're going to love it."
Wednesday huffs but doesn't protest further, allowing you to lead her onwards. As you approach the escape room, you can feel a sense of anticipation building in your gut. You've put so much thought into this surprise, and you're determined to make it perfect.
The door to the escape room looms ahead, and you take a deep breath before pushing it open.
As you guide Wednesday inside, the blindfold is removed, revealing a dimly lit room decorated with eerie candles and macabre artwork. Wednesday blinks, her eyes adjusting to the gloom as she takes in her surroundings.
"What is this place?" she asks, her brow furrowing in confusion. "Some kind of gothic-themed restaurant?"
You grin, shaking your head. "Nope. It's an escape room. And it's all for you, Wednesday. Happy early birthday."
Wednesday's eyes widen, a flicker of surprise crossing her usually stoic features. "An escape room? Seriously? You know I hate those tourist trap things."
You place a hand on her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I know, but this one is different. It's tailored specifically to your interests. Mysteries, puzzles, all that creepy stuff you love. Plus, it's just the two of us. No annoying strangers to deal with."
Wednesday narrows her eyes, studying you intently. "Okay, I'll bite. What's the catch? There's no way you'd actually think I'd enjoy some dumb escape room."
You can't help but smile at her skepticism. It's one of the things you love about Wednesday - her sharp mind and unwillingness to be fooled by empty gestures.
"No catch," you assure her, holding up your hands in a gesture of sincerity. "I know how much you love a good mystery, and I thought this would be a fun way to celebrate your birthday. Plus, I may have mentioned to the owners that you're a bit of an expert in this kind of thing. They're really excited to have you try it out."
Wednesday's expression softens slightly, a hint of curiosity sparking in her dark eyes. "They know about me? How?"
You shrug, trying to play it cool. "I may have dropped a few hints about your... unique skill set. But they were sworn to secrecy. This whole thing is just between us."
As you and Wednesday enter the dimly lit escape room, you can't help but feel a rush of excitement. The space is decorated with an eerie attention to detail, filled with cryptic symbols, antique furniture, and a general atmosphere of macabre intrigue.
Wednesday's eyes dart around the room, taking in every detail with a keen curiosity. "Looks like they did their research," she murmurs, running a finger along the spine of an ancient-looking book resting on a nearby table.
You nod, grinning with pride. "I told you, I made sure it was the perfect fit for you. And trust me, the best part is yet to come."
Wednesday raises an eyebrow, but before she can respond, a low, ominous voice echoes through the room. "Welcome, dear guests," it intones, "to the Addams Family Escape Room Experience."
Wednesday's head snaps up, her eyes widening with surprise. "Wait, what?"
The voice continues, "In this immersive adventure, you'll navigate the twisted world of the Addams family, solving puzzles and unraveling secrets.”
The voice pauses dramatically before continuing, "Your objective is simple: escape the room before the clock strikes midnight, or risk being trapped forever in the Addams family's morbid mansion."
A sinister laugh echoes through the speakers, sending a shiver down your spine. Wednesday, meanwhile, seems entirely unfazed, her expression one of intense focus as she begins to examine the room more closely.
"Impressive," she admits grudgingly, running her fingers along the intricate carvings on a nearby bookshelf. "They've really captured the my family’s aesthetic."
Wednesday's eyes narrow as she takes in the details of the room, her mind already working to piece together the clues. The walls are adorned with eerie paintings and strange artifacts, each one seemingly hiding a hidden meaning or secret.
"Okay, let's start with the basics," Wednesday mutters, more to herself than to you. She begins to methodically search the room, her movements precise and purposeful.
As she works, you can't help but marvel at her incredible focus and deduction skills. It's like watching a predator stalk its prey, every action calculated and deliberate.
Wednesday pulls a dusty old book from the shelf, its pages yellowed and brittle. As she flips through the pages, her eyes widen. "Found something," she says, showing you a page filled with cryptic symbols and riddles.
You lean in closer, trying to decipher the message, but it's like reading a foreign language. "What does it say?" you ask, feeling a bit lost in the face of Wednesday's brilliance.
Wednesday's lips curve into a small, enigmatic smile as she traces her finger over the cryptic symbols. "It's a riddle," she explains, her voice low and conspiratorial. "A challenge, of sorts."
She reads the words aloud, her tone almost reverent:
"Seek the key that lies within
The heart of darkness, where the shadows begin."
Wednesday closes the book, her gaze sweeping the room once more. "Darkness, shadows... I wonder if that's literal or metaphorical."
She strides over to a large, ornate mirror hanging on the far wall. As she approaches, you notice a faint glow emanating from the frame, pulsing in time with some unseen heartbeat.
Wednesday reaches out, her fingers hovering just above the surface. "Interesting," she murmurs, her breath fogging the glass. "This could be it. The 'heart' of the room."
She turns to you, her eyes glinting with a newfound intensity. "I'm going to need you to do something for me," she says, her voice steady and commanding.
"I need you to stand behind me," Wednesday instructs, her voice low and authoritative. "And when I give the signal, I want you to push me against the mirror as hard as you can."
You blink, taken aback by her request. "What? Are you sure that's safe? I don't want to break it or hurt you."
Wednesday's eyes narrow, a hint of impatience flashing across her face. "Trust me, Y/N. I've done my research. This mirror is reinforced, designed to withstand pressure. It's part of the puzzle."
Still uncertain, you nevertheless comply, moving to stand behind her. Wednesday positions herself in front of the mirror, her stance wide and her muscles tensed. She nods once, a silent signal for you to proceed.
Taking a deep breath, you place your hands on her shoulders, feeling the firmness of her muscles beneath your palms. With a grunt of effort, you push, propelling Wednesday forward into the mirror.
As Wednesday collides with the mirror, there's a blinding flash of light and a crackling sound, like electricity surging through the glass. For a moment, you're blinded, your vision swallowed by the brightness. But as the glow fades, you blink rapidly, trying to clear your eyes.
When your vision returns, Wednesday is gone. Vanished. In her place, the mirror reflects an image of a dark, shadowy hallway stretching into the distance.
For a heart-stopping moment, you're frozen in shock, your mind struggling to process what just happened. Then, as panic starts to set in, you hear a voice echoing down the hallway, distant but unmistakably Wednesday's.
"Y/N! I'm in here!"
You lean closer to the mirror, your breath fogging the glass as you peer into the shadowy depths. "Wednesday?" you call out, your voice sounding small and uncertain. "Where are you?"
There's a pause, and then Wednesday's voice returns, sounding strained and urgent. "I'm stuck, Y/N. I need you to follow me. Quickly!"
"Hurry, Y/N!" Wednesday calls out, her voice echoing strangely in the shadowy hallway beyond the mirror. "I think I found the key, but I can't get it out."
Your heart pounds as you lean closer to the mirror, your reflection staring back at you from the darkened glass. The image of the hallway wavers and shifts, as if the shadows themselves are alive and moving.
Taking a deep breath, you reach out and press your palm flat against the mirror's surface. The glass is cold and smooth beneath your fingers, but as you apply pressure, you feel it beginning to give way, like a door yielding to a firm push.
With a grunt of effort, you step forward, feeling the resistance of the mirror against your body. For a moment, it's as if you're being pressed between two planes of existence - the real world behind you, and the shadowy realm ahead. Then, with a final heave, you stumble through, tumbling into the darkness beyond.
You land on your hands and knees, the floor beneath you cold and damp. As you push yourself upright, you see Wednesday standing a few feet away.
She's standing in a shadowy corridor, her face illuminated by the faint, eerie glow emanating from the walls. Wednesday's eyes widen as she sees you emerge from the mirror, relief and urgency flashing across her features.
"Thank god you're here," she breathes, her voice trembling slightly. "I was starting to think I might be trapped in here forever."
You take a moment to orient yourself, taking in the strange, otherworldly environment surrounding you. The walls seem to pulse with an inner light, casting shifting shadows across the floor. The air is thick and heavy, carrying an unsettling scent of decay and old secrets.
"What is this place?" you whisper, your voice sounding too loud in the oppressive silence.
Wednesday shakes her head, her eyes never leaving the object clutched in her hand. "I'm not entirely sure," she admits, her tone uncharacteristically uncertain. "But I think it's part of the escape room's final challenge."
She holds out the object for you to see - a small, ornate key, its metal surface etched with strange, twisting symbols.
Wednesday holds the key up to the flickering light, examining its intricate design. "The inscription... it matches the symbols from the riddle in the book. I think this is what we've been searching for."
She glances around, her eyes scanning the shadowy corridor. "But there's no lock here. We need to find where this key belongs."
You nod, following Wednesday's gaze as she begins to move down the hallway, her steps cautious and deliberate. The walls seem to shift and sway as you pass, the air growing colder with each step.
Wednesday stops suddenly, her head tilting to the side as she listens to a distant sound. "Do you hear that?" she whispers, her voice barely audible over the oppressive silence.
You strain your ears, trying to pick up on any noise. At first, there's nothing, but then you catch it - a faint, rhythmic thumping, like a heartbeat echoing through the darkness.
"It's coming from that way," Wednesday says, pointing down a side passage branching off from the main corridor. "We need to follow it."
As you and Wednesday move deeper into the shadowy realm behind the mirror, the atmosphere grows heavier and more oppressive with each step. The thumping sound grows louder, more insistent, echoing through the dark corridors like a macabre heartbeat.
Wednesday's brow furrows in concentration, her eyes scanning the walls for any clue or hidden passage. She moves with a predatory grace, her steps silent and purposeful as she navigates the twisting labyrinth.
Suddenly, she stops, her hand shooting out to grab your arm. "Look," she hisses, her breath hot against your ear.
You follow her gaze to where the wall seems to ripple and shift, like water disturbed by an unseen hand. As you watch, a shape begins to emerge from the shadows - the outline of a door, its surface covered in the same eerie symbols that adorn the key in Wednesday's hand.
Wednesday's grip on your arm tightens, her nails digging into your skin. "This is it," she breathes, her voice trembling with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. "The final challenge."
Wednesday's hand trembles slightly as she raises the key, the metal glinting in the eerie light emanating from the walls. With a deep breath, she fits the key into the lock, the symbols aligning with a satisfying click.
As the lock disengages, the door creaks open, revealing the room they’d started in.
"That was... impressive," she says, turning to face you. "I mean, it was still an escape room, but at least it had some real challenges. Whoever designed this clearly knows their stuff."
You step forward, a mischievous grin playing at the corners of your mouth. "You're welcome," you say, pulling the carefully wrapped package from behind your back. "Happy birthday, Wednesday."
Wednesday's eyes widen as she takes in the small, rectangular shape of the gift. She reaches out tentatively, her fingers brushing against the smooth paper. "What is it?"
"Open it and see," you encourage, handing her the package.
Wednesday tears into the wrapping paper with gusto, revealing the pristine leather cover of the book underneath. Her eyes widen as she reads the title embossed in gold lettering: "The Tell-Tale Heart" by Edgar Allan Poe.
"Is this...?" she breathes, running her fingers reverently over the ancient binding. "A first edition? Y/N… How much did you spend-“ She begins, ready to scold you.
“-I stole it.”
Wednesday's eyes snap up to meet yours, her expression a mix of shock and awe. "You... you stole this for me?" Her voice is barely above a whisper, but there's an undercurrent of something else beneath the surface - something that sends a shiver down your spine.
"That's right," you confirm, stepping closer to her. "I knew how much you loved Poe, and I wanted to give you something truly special for your birthday. Something no one else could ever give you."
Wednesday's gaze drops back to the book, her fingers caressing the leather cover with a reverence that borders on obsessive. "This is... incredible," she murmurs, almost to herself. "I can't believe you'd go to such lengths for me."
You reach out, gently tilting her chin up to meet your eyes once more. "Of course I would," you say softly, your voice low and intimate. "You're worth it, Wednesday. More than worth it."
Wednesday's breath hitches as your fingers brush against her skin, her dark eyes searching yours for any sign of deception or ulterior motive. But all she sees is sincerity, and maybe something deeper - a longing that mirrors her own.
"Why?" she asks, her voice barely audible. "Why would you do this for me?"
You lean in closer, your lips nearly brushing against her ear. "Because I care about you, Wednesday," you murmur, your breath warm against her skin. "More than I've ever cared about anyone else. And I wanted to prove it to you, in a way that no one else could."
Wednesday's heart pounds in her chest, her body responding to your proximity in ways she didn't know were possible. She's always prided herself on her emotional detachment, her ability to remain unaffected by the whims and fancies of others. But with you, she feels herself crumbling, her carefully constructed walls beginning to fall away.
Wednesday's breath catches in her throat as your lips brush against her ear, your whispered confession sending a jolt of electricity through her body. For a moment, she's frozen, her mind reeling as she tries to process the intensity of the moment.
But then, slowly, she raises her hand, her fingers coming to rest gently against your chest. She can feel the steady thrum of your heartbeat beneath her palm, a reminder of the life and warmth that lies beneath your skin.
"Y/N," she whispers, her voice trembling slightly. "I... I don't know what to say."
You pull back just enough to meet her gaze, your eyes dark with desire and something deeper, more profound. "You don't have to say anything," you murmur, your hand coming up to cup her cheek. "Just let me show you."
And then, before she can react, you're leaning in, your lips capturing hers in a kiss that steals the breath from her lungs. Wednesday's eyes flutter closed, her body melting into yours as she surrenders to the sensation of your mouth moving against hers.
Wednesday's mind reels as the kiss deepens, her senses overwhelmed by the taste and feel of your lips against hers. She's kissed you before, of course - quick, furtive pecks stolen in the dark corners of school. But nothing like this. Nothing that makes her feel so alive, so utterly consumed by the other person.
Your hand moves from her cheek to the back of her neck, your fingers tangling in the silky strands of her hair. Wednesday lets out a soft moan, her body arching into yours as her hands come up to grip your shoulders. She's never felt so wanted, so desired, and it's both thrilling and terrifying all at once.
For a long moment, Wednesday is lost in the sensation of your kiss, her mind going blank as she succumbs to the heat of your touch. But then, with a sudden surge of willpower, she pulls away, her chest heaving as she struggles to catch her breath.
Wednesday's eyes snap open, her gaze locked with yours as she tries to regain her composure. Her cheeks are flushed, her lips swollen from the intensity of the kiss, and she can feel a warmth spreading through her body that has nothing to do with the heat of the moment.
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varyajc · 4 months ago
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poking my head out of my cave for hashira headcanons, what they would do if they became jealous
HASHIRA HEADCANONS
what they would do if they were ;; jealous!
a/n ;; put your party hats on, we reached 10 followers!!
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╰┈➤ Himejima Gyomei ;; The Stone Hashira
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: ̗̀➛ He would be very gentle about it, along with being very open. He wouldn’t exactly say anything right away, because he trusts you. However, he feels the need to communicate his feelings, so that’s what he did. You were very understanding and did everything in your power to help him feel better. He was honestly overwhelmed how much effort you put into making him feel better.
I’d say no drama would be caused, issue would most likely be solved in less than three days at most.
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╰┈➤ Shinazugawa Sanemi ;; The Wind Hashira
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: ̗̀➛ He would be very possessive
This man, right here, is not afraid to show his emotions when it comes to you. He would wrap his arms around you, with his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your stomach. He’d probably also be kissing your cheek every 5 minutes. (Leaving possible love marks in front of the man hitting on you.)
I’d say, yes, drama would be caused. However, he can’t stay mad at you. Issue would be solved in a week or less.
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╰┈➤ Iguro Obanai ;; The Serpent Hashira
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: ̗̀➛ Hmm, for this man is tricky. I feel like he’d be very quiet about it, but he’d be fuming next to you.
He isn’t too big on public affection, so he’d just stand next to you, vein popping out of his head, with that sharp glare of his. That stare is enough to scare off the man hitting on you. He’d probably go on a rant how you’re his when the both of you return home.
I wouldn’t say this situation would cause drama, more likely cause tension for a day or two.
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╰┈➤ Tomioka Giyu ;; The Water Hashira
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: ̗̀➛ Self-conscious. I don’t know how else to put it, I’m sorry.
Listen, this man’s self-esteem is almost at rock-bottom, you have to be very careful on how much affection or how friendly you are towards others. He probably wouldn’t bring it up, but you eventually notice, practically forcing it outta him.
You have to reassure him constantly for the next week or two.
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╰┈➤ Mitsuri Kanroji ;; The Love Hashira
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: ̗̀➛ Uh, for this woman it’s hard, I’d say she’d be very affectionate?
Once she noticed the man hitting on you, she’d start grabbing your hand and hugging you. She’s a sweet-heart, she wouldn’t tell you until you both got home that evening. She told you about her issue with it and was generally being very open. This made the situation 100x easier, and everything was solved that night.
You took her out to dinner the next day just to be safe.
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╰┈➤ Rengoku Kyojuro ;; The Flame Hashira
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: ̗̀➛ He’d be mature about it!
Like many others on this list, he wouldn’t say anything until the two of you got home, so you could enjoy your evening. He’d also be very open and honest. However, he’d probably be very upset when he saw the man hitting on you. Not that he doesn’t trust you, it’s just a little upsetting to see a man hitting on your spouse.
You guys spent the night cuddling.
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╰┈➤ Tokito Muichiro ;; The Mist Hashira
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: ̗̀➛ He’d be very confused why he felt the need to slap the man in front you.
When he first saw the young man hitting on you, he’d get very angry. Yet he also feels confused about his feelings, he doesn’t understand why he’s so angry about a young man “talking” with you. He spoke to you later about it, he explained his feelings and he doesn’t understand why he feels upset about it. You assured him you only have eyes for him.
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╰┈➤ Kocho Shinobu ;; The Insect Hashira
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: ̗̀➛ She’d be upset about it, but also takes care of the situation maturely
When she first witnessed the scene in front of her, she just put her anger behind a smile. However, when the two of you got home, she very calmly but coldly explained her feelings and why she felt the way she felt, you felt somewhat scared to be honest. You reassured her, and nothing else came out of the situation.
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╰┈➤ Uzui Tengen ;; The Sound Hashira
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: ̗̀➛ Ugh, this man would be very cocky about it.
He doesn’t even bring it up, he KNOWS you can’t and won’t find anybody better than him, so he knows you won’t leave him for some homeless rando that looks like he hasn’t showered in decades. He doesn’t act weird about it, he goes on about it his day rather than bring it up. Nothing comes out of this situation.
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@varyajc - DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, OR CLAIM MY CONTENT AS YOUR OWN. YOU WILL GET BLOCKED AND REPORTED. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
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vityaposting · 3 months ago
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jayvik x transman bf reader :3? maybe like dysphoria comfort ((maybe with a little smut if you feel like it..,,.)) anyways BLUSHES i love viktor hes the loml ^_^ (i couldnt tell if you write male reader,, sweat drop)
hi i am SO sorry this took so long!! its been a hell of a week lol but i didnt forget about i promise!! and yes ofc i write male reader, esp transmasc reader, we’re so underrepresented in the jayvik fandom frfr. i wasn’t really feeling like nsfw for this one im sorry but i have some softness and happiness instead :3
jayvik x transmasc!reader — dysphoria days (sfw) (1400)
It’s nearly midnight when you hear the apartment door creak open, and you perk up just a bit, the day’s sorrows temporarily forgotten. The sound of Jayce’s laughter hits you first. “V, you’re a menace, I’m telling you. One of these days you’ll burn the whole Academy to the ground.”
He seems surprisingly energetic considering how late it is—his gaze lights up when he sees you waiting on the couch. Viktor follows him, shoulders drooping with exhaustion, but he gives you the smallest of smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling.
Viktor’s chuckle is scathing, but it makes your heart flutter anyway. “And you enable my behavior, so if they throw me into Stillwater you’re coming right along with me.”
Jayce clearly sees it pointless to argue, so he turns his attention to you. “Hey there, sweetheart.” You nearly fly into the air as he flops onto the cushion next to you, but a strong arm around your shoulders keeps you still. When he places an eager kiss against your temple, you feel your face burn. “How was work?”
“We missed you,” Viktor says quietly, settling down much more gently on your other side, leaning his crutch against the coffee table. “We made wonderful progress. Do you remember that equation I was telling you about—the one Jayce couldn’t solve for the life of him?”
Jayce shoots a halfhearted glare across the couch. “You fell asleep at the workbench during three separate experiments today. You’re one to talk about my work habits.”
“And I told you I’ll rest. There are two of you and only one of me, and I know how you both get when you think I’ve been up for too long, hmm?” His head lands on your shoulder, and his hand finds yours, long, thin fingers trailing across the back. You know what he’s about to say before he says it, but you find yourself burning anyway: “Solnyshko, you are so quiet. Something’s bothering you.” It’s a statement, not a question: he’s always been perceptive. And he certainly doesn’t like being lied to.
You can’t find yourself in it to try. “It’s been a rough day, I guess,” you provide by way of an excuse.
That’s all it takes for both of your boyfriends to zero their attention on you. Viktor’s quiet determination sharpens, and his grip on your hand becomes infinitesimally stronger. Jayce seems surprised to learn there’s anything wrong at all, but he’s threading his hand through your hair before you can blink, his golden eyes wide with concern.
“Sweetheart,” Jayce breathes. “What happened?”
“Nothing, I just—nothing out of the ordinary.” You feel a bit silly now, bringing up something that has always been a thorn in your side (or a hundred or so gigantic thorns in your heart, if you want to be accurate) but it’s a bit too late to back down. “I’d… been out to get the groceries. I was so excited at first, since I knew you’d both be home tonight and we could finally spend a night in and just be together, but when I went to check out, I made the grave mistake of speaking.” You laugh humorlessly. Viktor’s brows knit with sympathy; Jayce places a reassuring kiss against the shell of your ear. “And you know what happens when I speak.”
The cashier’s cheery tone rings in your ears again: have a wonderful rest of your day, ma’am! It’s the saccharine sweetness with which the word is always said it really gets to you, because it’s never malicious. It would hurt less if it was… but all it is is a reminder that in their eyes, you are something else entirely. The world sees a lie.
One word is usually all it takes for a steady wave of agony to follow. Your voice gave you away—but was that it? It was hard to avoid self consciously tugging at your shirt, changing your gait, squaring your shoulders. All these little things you did wrong. All these little things that made the rest of the world see something that didn’t even exist. Sometimes, you feel more like an illusion than a person, floating from person to person and watching them take in your fractured reflection.
Until you get home.
You don’t realize your breath has quickened until Jayce’s strong hand cups your jaw and forces you to look right at him. “Hey,” he says. “I get it, sweet boy. I really do. I’m so sorry you had to deal with that.”
“And you are more of a man than anyone who cannot see you for who you truly are,” Viktor butts in bluntly. “You are the handsomest and most beautiful person I’ve ever had the privilege to love—don’t start, Jayce, you know what I mean.” Jayce grins, biting off his joking retort. “And loving you is such a privilege,” Viktor continues. “My wonderful boyfriends… you are my greatest joys. I don’t know who else would drag me out of that godforsaken lab in the middle of the night.”
Jayce peppers kisses from the line of your jaw up to the corner of your eye, drawing giggles out of you all the while. “I could go on and on about what makes you so wonderful. Those people don’t see you the way we do. Would they ever stop to notice how your eyes change when the light hits them? Or how your whole face goes soft when you get complimented?”
“Pretty boy,” Viktor adds, just to test this hypothesis.
“You fluster so easily,” whispers Jayce. He runs his hand through your hair, twirling a few strands around his fingers, while Viktor trails a feather-light touch up your arm. Viktor stops at your shoulder before leaning forward to press a kiss against the hollow of your throat. You can’t help but draw in a shuddering breath as your skin lights up with electricity. You’re sure you must be glowing as brightly as the hextech contraptions in their lab.
“See?” he whispers. “Beautiful. Look at you.”
You want to protest, but with all the attention being leveled at you, you find you don’t have the strength. You can only relax further as Viktor takes your hand and presses five chaste kisses against your knuckles, and as Jayce leans closer to whisper in your ear. “You know, we could spend hours showing you everything we love about you, but I think we have dinner to make, don’t we?”
You manage a short laugh. “I’m not feeling well and you two just take the opportunity to tease me?”
“Teasing you is just a bonus,” Viktor huffs. “We actually just want to make sure you eat. I know you’d get on me about not having dinner.”
You narrow your eyes at him. “Vitenka. You did have lunch, right?”
He makes a little ehh noise that forces a snort out of you. Predictable as ever.
“Yeah, I even brought something up from the cafeteria,” Jayce says. “It didn’t work. How about this. I’ll do the cooking tonight, and my poor malnourished darlings can stay here and relax, hm?”
“I’d like to argue, but I don’t think tonight’s the night,” Viktor says. Tucking his head into the crook of your neck, he draws patterns against the back of your hand, humming to himself. “I am terribly in love with you,” he mutters. “It’s honestly a little surprising. The both of you hit me like an airship hits a bird in the sky.”
“That sounds gruesome,” Jayce says. He kisses your forehead once, then Viktor’s and heaves himself off the couch. “Alright. Dinnertime. V, I’ll add extra spices just for you, and…” His gaze softens as it lands on you. “I love you so much, okay? No matter what.”
His perfect golden-boy smile makes your heart melt. “I love you too.”
He gives your shoulder one last squeeze before disappearing into the kitchen. For a moment, the living room is silent, but soon Viktor clears his throat. “The world is wrong about you. I know who you are. You are so precious to us, no matter what anyone else sees when they look at you. Everything you are,” he murmurs, “and everything you will ever be, I love you, crasafchek.”
You press your cheek to his hair, grinning like a lovestruck fool, a little grateful he can’t see. The sound of clattering pots and pans echoes from the kitchen—the domesticity of it all wraps you in a quiet peace, and you may or may not drift off with Viktor in your arms before dinner is even done.
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jji-lee · 4 months ago
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maybe it was jeno’s ‘good luck’ or the 3 shots of tequila that he had just downed with haechan, but mark was feeling very optimistic about finding you. he wandered around the frat house, stopping to greet some sexy wonder womans, just in case meeting you doesn’t go as planned, until he was led out onto the house’s patio.
it was mainly men back there, the march winds much too cold for any girl’s skimpy costume. just as he was about to leave he spotted an attractive looking girl with cat ears, well, mark couldn’t see her face per se… but her ass looked attractive. he prayed that this kitty was his mystery girl, because he might just leave this party with her and not you, not like you really knew who he was anyways.
as he approached you, he noticed the empty drink in your hand, eyes roaming the patio, hopefully looking for him.
“hey… kento girl?”
he saw your eyes widen slightly, pink cheeks peeking out from under your mask. score.
“uh yeah, you’re long lee? god that name sounds stupid when you say it out loud.”
you both chuckled at the mention of his dirty username. since when did his mask start feeling so hot? his hands reached towards your mask-
“nuh uh, we said we’d keep our masks on remember?”
mark would have to fuck you without seeing your face first, and to be honest, with a body like yours he didn’t really mind. he thought of his wise friend haechan’s words worst case scenario, just put her in doggy style and problem solved.
“sooo this is weird right, meeting officially but not knowing who we are.”
his mask muffled his speech, blaring music making it even harder to hear him, you reached towards his neck softly pulling his face down to meet yours, smiling before turning your ear towards him.
“sorry i can’t really hear you that well, what did you say?”
ok yes, you had heard his question, but what’s the harm in a little flirting? and clearly it was working as he stuttered his response out.
“um i was saying uh that it’s weird right you know like meeting but still not knowing who we are.”
mark was losing his mind. first of all he’s never met a girl to make the first move on him, you’re not slick, and second why did that noob level flirting actually do something to him. your cheeky smile was proof that you were proud at the fact you managed to fluster him,
“hmm i guess it is, but at least you know what half of my face looks like now, it’s only fair if you let me see half of yours.”
mark wasn’t even thinking before he pulled up his mask to reveal his lips and the bottom of his nose, feeling strangely naked in front of you (this was the most clothed he’d ever been near a girl he’s speaking to) he prayed you didn’t recognize him, what if you were a mark lee fanatic that knew him by his birthmark and you could-
“nice mustache.”
you snorted reaching up to touch his facial hair. he had forgotten to shave so caught up in the idea of meeting you tonight he had forgotten to shave. did he think that he’d keep the mask on all night? that he’d be balls deep in you, bare ass naked with a spiderman mask on? mark refuses to let a girl see him with facial hair. call it a silly superstition, but since that night drunk jisung told him that his chinese roommate had mentioned something about mustaches being bad sexual luck, mark has stayed clean shaven.
“sorry was that a bad joke, it actually does look good on you, well, looks good on half of your face.”
you smiled up at him, and suddenly he felt like maybe his luck wouldn’t be so bad tonight.
“i don’t usually go out much so shaving isn’t necessary, most girls hate it.”
lies. but he thinks so far the loser totally not frat boy thing is kinda working for him.
“i thought you didn’t talk to girls huh, are you a secret player my sweet romeo?”
this loser gets no girls thing was totally working for him. how did you get lucky enough to get matched with a nice guy who isn’t just interested in sex and (from seeing half his face) doesn’t seem to be completely unattractive? flirting didn’t come so easy for you, but those jello shots you had taken with chenle at the entrance seemed to finally be soaking into your blood stream. he chuckled nervously,
“yeah and what if i am?”
“then you’d have to go talk to another sexy cat woman tonight, sorry.”
you both knew you weren’t going anywhere as tension started to build. the cool air seemed to fade away as heat grew between the two of you. playful banter was always your favorite type of foreplay and spiderman’s nervous reactions to your flirting was only making you more excited.
“but if you reallyyy want me to stay i may need some convincing, maybe a little hmmm”
you pointed at your lips, slightly puckering them as you pretended to think.
“oh yeah?”
you didn’t even have to look up to hear the smirk in his tone. you smiled wide,
“only if that’s okay with you of course, i know you’re not too good with girls.”
his hands came out to grab your waist and slightly tug you towards him, your chest meeting his. a small gasp escaped you making him smile. he brought his face down to yours, breath fanning against your lips.
“you sure about this my juliet?”
you nodded slowly causing your lips to brush, and that seemed to be what finally broke the tension. his lips pressed against yours a soft groan coming from him. your arms came up to wrap around his neck pulling him impossibly closer. you slightly parted your lips allowing him access to your mouth, which of course he happily accepted, his tongue came out quickly to interlock with yours both of your mouths moving is sync. his sneaky hands came down to grab your ass slowly massaging the muscle. damn when was the last time you got laid? definitely not long enough to make you take this mystery man home with you, that’s for sure. you pulled away from him making sure to unstick his hands from your latex covered ass, if he had kept his hands there any longer you have no idea what you would’ve done.
“you’re a pretty good kisser mr. romeo.”
“not so bad yourself my juliet”
his hands reached out again to grab your waist again,
“we can take this somewhere more private if you want.”
oh if only he knew how much you wanted to.
“mmm i don’t think so, not tonight at least, we just met, and i have no idea who you are-“
he went to pull the rest of his mask off but you grabbed his hands stopping him.
“no! i mean not in a bad way just, no i don’t wanna know just yet!”
he let out a sigh, you could see his cheeks burn red from embarrassment.
“i’m gonna go meet up with my friends now okay? don’t follow me! until we meet again my romeo.”
you gave him a quick peck on the cheek before disappearing into the house.
“what the fuck just happened”
mark looked down at his now tight spiderman suit, did you just blue ball him?
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𖦹 .ᐣ.ᐟ₊ ⊹ cryptic crush — [6] zoo wee mama
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previous — masterlist — next
notes : surpriseee i’m posting this early cause i feel bad for making you wait 😔 plot twist chenle’s roommate is jisung that’s how jisung knew she was hot earlier in the smau!!!
taglist : @sunghoonsgfreal , @dalsosapple , @nanaxwi , @neverbeurs , @miichellehciim , @h-aechanie , @hizhu , @mystverse , @wonwootakemyheart , @ppeachyttae , @jae-n0 , @onlyhyunjin , @alethea-moon , @onyourmark-99 , @sunnystarred , @p-d1ddy , @hisrkive , @flwrs4marklee , @haechskiss , @rutheaflowers , @busy-daydreaming02 , @byeonwooseokabs , @bunniin , @odxrilove , @candied-czennie , @injunnie-lemon , @sunflowerhae , @nosungluv , @222brainrot , @vklve , @aerivrs , @slayhaechan , @aek1ra , @honeynanamin , @roseangelxfuma
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cripplecharacters · 5 months ago
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Sorry if this has already been asked before but as a general statement do you feel like the trope of having mobility aids doubling up as weapons in a fantasy story is ok? I’m disabled myself so I have a lot of disabled characters in my story so there’s a wide variety of mobility aids. Since a lot of characters fight in the story because of the genre I was thinking of making mobility aids weapons (cane as a magic staff or like prosthetics with built in powers etc) but I’m not sure if it falls into the category of ‘character is disabled but it’s actually their superpower!!!’ because I want to avoid that trope at all costs. Hope this makes sense to you since communication isn’t a strong point of mine. Love your blog btw:)
Hi! I'm glad you enjoy the blog:-D
I really feel like it depends. It can be done well and respectfully, but in my experience it usually isn't.
If you're a mobility aid user writing about the aids that you're using, you can do whatever you want! For my deeper thoughts that are too long:
The main issue that I have with the "magic aids as weapons" is that often it feels like the author doesn't actually like the aid because it's "too boring" and thus wants to "improve" it by making a cane into a wizard staff that shoots fireballs or whatever. But I don't feel like that's a good way to go about it at all. Mobility aids are cool in itself! They allow use to be more mobile! Why do they need to be made into something else?
The something else part is also what bothers me a lot around magic aids, aids as weapons, all that. Like the old "replacing a wheelchair with an animal" thing. Why not have a wheelchair? Why not a walking cane instead of a staff, you know? It sometimes feels like the author tries to distance whatever they're writing about from disabled people and our actual experiences because they're "too boring to fit their fantasy story". Like it could be done effectively, but it usually really isn't.
To finally get to the combat part of the question, it again depends (...sorry). If the character with a cane has to fight using it, then I do find it weird, I guess. "Doing cool explosive stuff" shouldn't be a requirement for a disabled character to be included, especially because a lot of disabled people can't do the things that writers want them to do! Sometimes we are weak and unsteady and fragile. Fighting isn't for everyone, and I feel like that's where some of the annoying fantasy tropes appear.
"Hm, my blind character can't fight because they're blind.. oh they have a superpower that lets them 'see'! solved!"
"Hmm, I don't know how to include a wheelchair user… I'll give them a Magic Mecha Exoskeleton, now they can fight!"
"Hm, real life prosthetics seem inconvenient. I'll just make them Magical so they're just like meat limbs but with a gun!"
...and all these kinds of "solutions" that make one wonder if the author even wants to have an actually disabled character. It's not even that the disability is a superpower, it's more that it's non-existent. Sometimes the better solution is to have us in other roles and not make us do things that our disabilities prevent us from doing, which fighting can fall under.
If the above isn't what's going on, then I think it comes down to how the whole thing is even supposed to work. Are the in-universe rules for magic centered around the idea that the Body makes magic? In this case, it could be interesting to have a character who uses a mobility aid and considers it a part of their body to be able to use it in a magical way. Because a lot of people do consider their cane or wheelchair an extension of them, so it could be actually interesting to see it validated by the magic system. But if it's like, "anything could be used" and then every character with a mobility aid ends up using their aid for that, that's... somewhat weird. It does feel like reducing the character to their disability if abled character 1 has a spell book, abled character 2 has a magic necklace, but the disabled character has their disability aid as their magic weapon. To use the example that you did, if the character's prosthetic is the only way they can use magic, I do think that's weird, because like. why… it's both reductive and "disability as a superpower". But if they can use magic through, let's say, both of their legs, and one of them happens to be a prosthetic, then I think that's cool.
I also believe that it depends on what kind of weapon you are talking about at the end of the day - in real life, mobility aids are already treated as potential weapons. I'm under the impression that no one would assume that a walking cane could cast a spell, but people do very much think of a cane as a potential tool to fight with, of a prosthetic as a potential bomb, of a wheelchair as a potential way to smuggle something illegal. I have very much seen and heard of situations where a disabled person wasn't allowed to enter somewhere because their aid was seen as a threat - you don't want to make more people think that this is a reasonable conclusion to come to. If you want to go for it without doing any kind of retrospect on that, I would keep it as a fantasy thing.
I hope this helps! Apologies for the answer length.
mod Sasza
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royalarchivist · 3 months ago
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Roier: I think I will- I will talk to Cellbit to solve things. Maybe- maybe we can solve things, you know? And... I dunno! Just be in peace.
Jaiden: Yeah. Yeah, and remember to- you know, be nice to yourself! You know?
Roier: Ok, thank you, thank you so much, Jaiden. You're so kind. Thank you, thank you so much. Muchas gracias. Gracias.
Jaiden: Of course. I wanna see you happy.
Roier: Aww... Thank you, thank you, thank you so much, Jaiden. Oh! Also– how are you?
Jaiden: Hmm? I'm doin'- I'm doin' good. It's– things are a little weird. Some people... don't like me right now, but... you know.
Roier: What? Why???
Jaiden: Well– They're- they're a little concerned about the Cucurucho stuff, you know?
Roier: Oh, yeah.
Jaiden: And I don't– I don't know how– I don't even know if what I'm doing is, you know, good, but– I feel like something has to be done, you know?
Roier: Yeah, yeah... I think there's a lot of people that- that doesn't know nothing, you know? It's- it's- it's- it's bullsht people, you know? So... no worries, Jaiden. Ignore them! Ignore them, ok?
Jaiden: Yeah. Thank you.
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