#so instead he makes it about something silly

[gloomwitchwrites]

How about some silliness.....reader/you is superrr drunk from a night out with friends or high from anesthesia and the guys are trying to take care of them and we are all like "get your hands off me or my husband will kick you ass!" Or "omg you're so hot are you single??"...and they are just dying laughing like "I am your husband!"

I just watched one too many tik toks of this 😂🤣

Oh, I love this. I don't think I've actually seen these videos before (at least on TT) but I do know what you're talking about. Maybe I've seen it more in other media? Like movies and television? Anyway, I understand what you're asking for, so I hope you enjoy what I've cooked up!

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (MDNI): swearing, established relationship, fluff, mild alcohol use, shenanigans due to drunkenness & anesthesia

Word Count: 800

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

John stands beside you on the passenger side of the car. The car door is open, and all you need to do is slide inside. Instead, you’re arguing with him, insisting that you can get in yourself, and that you don’t need help.

“You just had surgery,” chides John.

“Minor surgery,” you correct.

“It’s still surgery.” John sighs, and then places his hand on your back. “Let me help you.”

“Hands off, sir. You’re not my husband.”

John does not move his hand. “I don’t remember us getting a divorce, love.”

You wave him off and John snorts. “He’ll kick your ass,” you insist. “Punch you right in the nose.”

John’s stern demeanor cracks, dissolving into a wide smile and a soft chuckle. He shakes his head in disbelief. “I’m your bloody husband. You’re stuck with me. Forever.”

“I’m serious,” you say. Turning, you attempt to jab him in the chest with your finger. Everything tilts, and you only hit air.

John sighs, exasperated. “Get in the car, love.”

“No,” you groan, pushing at his chest. You surrender to him, allowing John to help you into the front passenger seat.

“I hope you remember this after the drugs wear off.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

You’ve been out with your friends all evening, and you have no idea what times it is. It’s dark, and you didn’t leave until the bar closed, forcing you to make an exit. Someone called for a car, and you all piled in, dropping each of off one by one.

As you enter the dark bedroom, you kick off your shoes, slightly stumbling to turn on the bedside light. You turn it on, and immediately wince. Vision swimming, you rub at your eyes, and then notice the massive lump in your bed.

“Turn off the bloody light, will you?” mumbles Johnny.

A devious plan forms in your head.

You climb onto the bed, crawling toward him. Noticing, Johnny turns toward you, eyes dreary with sleep.

“What?” he asks just before you flop your entire body onto him.

“Hi,” you whisper.

“Hi,” he deadpans.

You wiggle over him, pressing the tip of your nose against his. “You seeing anyone, handsome?”

Johnny arches an eyebrow. “Did you hit your head or something? I am your husband.”

“Lucky me.”

Johnny blows raspberries. With one good shove, he flips you onto your back on your side of the bed.

“Go to bed. You’re drunk.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Your liquor-addled brain tells you to do it.

Across the bar is danger, the kind you want to play with—to sink your teeth into. Why resist temptation when it’s clear that the masked man across the bar can’t seem to take his eyes off you? Every time you glance in his direction, his gaze is focused and intense, daring you to approach him.

Which is exactly what you do.

He follows your every step, even if there is a slight sway in the way you walk. As you approach, he leans back in his chair, legs widening as if in welcome. It’s easy to reach out, to place your hand on his shoulder, to straddle his thighs, and stare into his eyes.

“You’ve been staring at me all night,” you slur. “Plan on going home with anyone?”

“I am,” the masked man replies.

“And who might that be?”

“My wife.”

You turn in his lap, looking around at all the other patrons in the bar. “Don’t see her.”

“Course you don’t,” he chuckles. “Because she’s sitting in my lap.”

You blink. “Is she?”

“You’re my wife,” he whispers.

“I am…aren’t I?”

He shakes his head. “I’m cutting you off.”

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

The alcohol is an enabler. You shouldn’t have had as many drinks as you did, but this is a party, and you’re not the one driving.

Why not have a bit of fun?

“Hi.”

Kyle arches an eyebrow. “Hi,” he replies, drawing out the greeting in slight confusion.

You cozy up next to him, shoulder brushing against shoulder.

“So,” you begin, head tilting toward him like you’re about to whisper all your secrets. “I’m going to be a bit bold…”

“Go on.”

“But I think you’re cute. Wanted to know if you’re seeing anyone.”

Kyle’s single raised eyebrow becomes two. There’s a long pause, so long that you notice the absence of conversation.

Kyle’s confusion cracks, becoming a wide smile, followed by his adorable, familiar laughter. “You’re taking the piss, love.”

“I’m not joking.”

He laughs harder, clutching his chest like he can’t breathe.

“I’m your husband,” he manages to say between wheezing breaths.

“I know,” you reply. “Just checking to make sure you’re still loyal.”

He waves his hand in the air before him. “You’ve had enough. Give me that.” He plucks your beverage right out of your hands.

“Excuse me,” you protest, but Kyle is already downing it.

taglist:

@glitterypirateduck @km-ffluv @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@fern-reads @tulipsun-flower @miss-mistinguett @ninman82 @eternallyvenus

@beebeechaos @smileykiddie08 @whisperwispxx @chaostwinsofdestruction @weasleytwins-41

@saoirse06 @glassgulls @ravenpoe67 @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat

@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim

@voids-universe @iloveslasher @talooolaaloolla @sadlonelybagel @haven-1307

@itsberrydreemurstuff @z-wantstowrite @keiva1000 @littlemisscriesherselftosleep @blackhawkfanatic

@sammysinger04 @kylies-love-letter @dakotakazansky @suhmie @kadeeesworld

@keiva1000 @jackrabbitem @arrozyfrijoles23 @lovely-ateez @waves-against-a-cliff

@ash-tarte @marispunk @gingergirl06 @certainlygay @greeniegreengreen

[vrystalius]

hiii there, i was wondering if we please get some more recruiter/salesman cutesy stuff?? you’re such a good writer (love your work) and we do NOT have enough fics of him being an enamoured wife guy on this app. thank you <3 😔

Secret Love Notes.

You keep slipping small love notes into all his pockets and suitcases to remind him that his wife loves him no matter what.

Pairing: Recruiter/Gong Yoo x wife!reader

Summary: You leave small love notes all over for him to find and he cherishes every single one of them.

Words: 0.7k, short and sweet!

Genre: fluff <33

Your husband never admits it out loud to you, but he notices how you slip little love notes into his pocket when folding up the laundry or when packing him a bento box. They have cute little encouragements and affirmations written on them along with some doodles of you two together, holding hands, kissing and whatnot.

You think you’re being sneaky by crouching a little when approaching his coat hung up by the entrance, stuffing a small folded note into his chest pocket.

Whenever he is about to go out the door, you hand him his leather suitcase and a colourful bento box you packed for him. Once you found out Gong Yo only plain loaves of bread or sometimes even nothing at all, you always insisted on packing some food for him so your poor husband can eat something home cooked every day.

Even if the box doesn’t match his aesthetics, he savours every bite and would never shy away from letting out a loud hum of content.

Gong Yoo sat comfortably on a wooden bench by the metro station, well aware of the two mobsters following him the whole day, but who cares?

He leisurely opened up the bento box. His face brightened up at the sight of another small love letter presented to him.

“Keep it up! You’re going great ♡ Your wife loves you ~ ☆ “

Accompanied by your sweet words was a chibi doodle of you doing a heart with your index finger and thumb and him as a chibi too, holding a pair of chopsticks and giving you a wink. He chuckled quietly to himself and folded the note to keep it in his pocket by his heart.

Once, after successfully recruiting a new player, Gong Yoo handed the confused and wounded man your love note with a confident smirk. That man was lucky to have escaped the games but was kind of confused on why a handsome looking salesman gave him a love letter that reminded him to “stay hydrated!! ☆ (drinking coffee doesn’t count >:( )”

He tries to leave behind as many love notes as you lovingly prepare for him, but his doodles were kind of wonky and presented you in a rather disturbing light.

Sticking to his trusty craft of origami your husband instead began leaving small paper roses for you to find as a way to leave his own love messages.

A paper rose in the fridge, in the pocket of your jacket, in your bag and on your pillow; they change colours based on the day too. Blue and red are the most frequent and popular ones though for some reason. Probably because those are the only kinds of coloured paper he owns.

After every day you leave letters behind for him, Gong Yoo always tries to come home on time to properly thank you for them. Pampering you is his favourite activity, meaning you get banned from the kitchen and forcibly made comfortable on your bed or couch with cushions and blankets to keep you warm and cozy.

To return the favour of you preparing bento for him, he’ll cook you a fine dinner that could rival that of high-end restaurants. Afterwards, he’ll make himself comfortable right next to you to plant well deserved kisses all over your face and body and let his hand travel over your body freely, tracing invisible patterns.

A man like him should not be holding a woman like you, that’s what he’s always thinking. You are way too good for him, too gentle, kind, loving, too much of everything good.

“I love you. More than letters or silly paper roses can convey. Allow me to demonstrate just how much I love my wife, hmm?”

💠

Author’s note. Thank you for reading!

The amount of smut and non-con about this man is INSANE, I just need to live my silly life as a wife with him where we snuggle on the couch like a boring cuddle every night and then go to sleep while he read a book and I knit like grandparents 🫶😭 Anyways, hope you enjoyed it anon!!

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!!

Take care of yourselves <33

[unriding]

HOW THEY COMFORT YOU AFTER A NIGHTMARE. moze, mydei, phainon. sfw. fluff + comfort. written with f!reader! in which the hsr men reassure you that you’re safe with them after a scary dream.

— MOZE.

The room you share with Moze feels foreign as soon as you jolt awake with a sharp gasp. Nothing at all like how it usually is.

It’s Cold. Empty. Much too spacious. And…. where’s Moze?

The nightmare you’ve only barely managed to escape seconds ago comes creeping back to haunt you as quickly as it had left — fragments of fear and loneliness rushing in and swirling about in your head, shooting up your spine as you shakily cling onto your blanket. “M..Moze…?”

There’s nothing, save for the sound of wind beating against the window. Violently so, you quickly realize, with each slam of the branches against the glass making you sink further and further back into the corner of your bed. “…Are you here..? Moze—”

Every part of you hopes that he is. Perhaps he’s just lurking somewhere within the shadows as he normally does. Still beside you nevertheless. Always within earshot and always making sure you were safe.

Any shadow could be him — you know this well, but the shadows don’t usually look so cold. They don’t usually stare back at you with such a haunting air around them, nor do they ever feel this empty.

A part of you wants nothing but to bury yourself beneath your blankets — slam your eyes shut and hope that you’re still dreaming.

Any scenario in which you don’t wake up alone in the dead of night, and any scenario in which Moze hadn’t packed up his things and left without a word.

Any scenario where he’s still here.

But you don’t. Still too fearful to move even a single muscle, so you settle for clinging tightly onto your blankets instead, eyes scanning the room for any sign of movement.

Any sign of Moze.

It’s only a second later when the door creaks. Quietly. Though your eyes seem to finally find the shred of courage needed to slam shut at this, head ducking beneath the blanket with a muffled whimper to seek refuge from what you think is doom.

Only, it never comes.

“You’re awake.” The mattress dips from where he sits down beside you, and then you feel a second blanket cover the lower half of your body soon after. “Did I wake you?”

It’s almost silly how quickly the fear begins to dissipate — his presence enough to convince you to wiggle your way out of your blanket, only enough to peer up at him through tearful eyes. “Moze….?”

The look on his face changes ever so slightly as soon as he hears you, even more as soon as he sees you. “I thought .. you left. Like, left me. In my dream, I think — but when I woke up —”

“I didn’t leave.”

The three simple words that loosen the grip on your chest like clockwork. He pulls you into a tight hug before you manage to choke out another word, strong arms keeping you flush against his chest to let you soak up his warmth, the way you always like to do.

He feels you trembling against him, hears the way you sniffle into his shirt, and yet — you latch onto him without another moment of hesitation. “You were shaking in your sleep.”

Moze doesn’t let go, even when he stretches to reach behind you, bunching the second blanket he had left to grab around your frame before his arms wrap back around you. “I thought you might get sick, otherwise.”

You nuzzle deeper into the safety of his embrace. “You.. you went to get blankets in the middle of the night? Because I was cold..?”

“Yes.”

— MYDEI.

Mydei notices the way you stir in your sleep long before you even have the chance to jerk awake, let alone keep yourself up for nearly long enough to work up the courage needed to nudge at his shoulder seeking some comfort.

It catches his eye within an instant — gaze flickering to the way your eyebrows furrow first, then how your body starts to curl up on itself hoping to hide from something. You’re having a nightmare.

It’s not an odd thing for Mydei to stay awake longer than you. He’s grown fond — Phainon’s words, to be exact — of the way you nuzzle yourself closer to him in your sleep. Just a small habit of yours. To press your cheek into the firm muscle of his arm, your own limbs tangled over his in an effort to keep him close to you.

You insist that it helps you sleep better, and that fact is obvious enough. You sleep like a log as soon as you’re latched onto him as so, and whenever he decides to wrap an arm around your waist to pull you even closer to him — big hand mindlessly rubbing your back up and down and feeling the way your frame melts underneath his touch — your lips curl into a small smile, even in your sleep.

It’s why seeing you in such discomfort bothers him. The way fresh tears start to collect along your lashes, face frowning and body tense and trembling — all things he absolutely never wants to see, especially when you’re safe beside him.

Mydei puts down his drink first. Almost instinctively, not taking his eyes off of you for even a moment before he’s letting out a huff, easily pulling you to rest fully on top of him (another thing that he remembers you enjoying, as you’ve mentioned once that it’s fun to hug him like a koala while sitting in his lap).

Only, you don’t hug him this time, and the frown stays on your face.

He frowns now, too.

“Hey.” His arms wrap around you even tighter now, one moving to cradle the back of your head and the other around your shoulders, as if keeping you safely tucked away from whatever threatens your comfort. “It’s only a nightmare.”

You make a noise in response, one akin to a whine or a grumble before your fingers start to dig into the muscle of his shoulder, stirring and fidgeting in your sleep — even more so than before. His mind hesitates for only a moment, conflicted as to whether he should abruptly wake you or continue to hold you in hopes that whatever is scaring you eventually leaves.

He settles for both.

“Nothing’s here,” he continues, pulling you closer to him, this time moving to press a kiss against your forehead. Another, after. One against your temple. Then another against your forehead, for extra measure.

This time, your expression softens, hands relaxing to lightly rest on his body. It’s working.

“See that?” His voice comes out softer, and perhaps if you were awake, you’d point this out.

But you’re not.

So he settles on holding you close like this instead, keeping you warm and close to his heart. “You’re safe.”

— PHAINON.

“Are you alright?” Your eyes shoot open to be faced with Phainon, hands on each side of your head as he hovers over you, concern and what you think might be a hint of fear etched deep into his features. “You’re okay. It was only a dream.”

“Ph-” you call out to him, or at least you try, but the words get caught in your throat, as if something wants to keep you away from him. Your eyes widen. “..on..?”

You hadn’t been expecting him to visit you so soon. His presence almost catches you off guard, more so than the nightmare that had scared you awake, maybe. (Though, perhaps he had intentionally avoided telling you, since he’s always had a thing or two to say about you skipping rest from excitement to see him.)

It wasn’t uncommon for you to have nightmares like these. Nights where you abruptly jerk awake in a cold sweat, barely mustering the courage to wrap yourself in a blanket before seeking out Phainon.

The first person you’ve always sought out, and the only person whose hold can make you feel as safe as you do. Such as now.

“Come closer,” his brows furrow deeper when your lips continue to wobble, now opting to fully climb onto your bed to lay beside you, immediately pulling you towards him. “You were having a nightmare.”

“Sorry..” you grasp at his shirt, almost instinctively. “I know you’re busy — it’s okay. I was just a little scared—”

He doesn’t move away, only letting out a soft sigh of relief at the realization that you’re at least not physically hurt before he’s holding you even tighter against himself, as if shielding you from your thoughts with his own body. “You’re safe now. I won’t let anything harm you.”

“Don’t worry.”

It might just be magic, you think, the way one simple embrace from Phainon can put an end to your fears so quickly. It was often that you’ve told him this — a shy tug on his sleeve and a reminder of just how much you cherish him, to which he only ruffles your hair with a soft smile — followed by another promise that he’ll keep you safe.

Always.

“And,” he shifts his position on your bed, the movement drawing you out of your thoughts when his chin comes to lightly rest atop your head, “I’ve told you there’s no need for apologies, haven’t I?”

“Oops,” you weakly mumble against his chest. “It slipped again.. sor—”

“Ah. And almost again, huh? That’s fine. Let’s focus on getting you back to sleep again for now,” he plants a gentle kiss on the crown of your head, “Close your eyes.”

[justwinginglife]

Better Half

“Hey- the Colonel’s hungry. Get him a sandwich or something. Better yet, make it a steak dinner. Actually, make it two.”

You barked orders to a passerby and the confused but obedient soldier threw out a quick salute in response before scurrying away to do your bidding. By now, he knew better than to question you (they all did); it was common knowledge that any command you gave, no matter how bizarre or seemingly random, was to be followed immediately if one wanted to avoid risking your wrath. Even Caleb was only half immune to this rule.

Once, you advised him to flank the left side of the enemy and he’d flanked the right instead. Besides the ground sliding out from beneath him because the right sight of the field had softened significantly more than the left due to recent weather conditions, he also had to suffer the consequences of your cold shoulder for the next week. Now he only disregarded you when he wanted to tease you; he’d never risk doing it out on the field again. You were many things, but you were almost never wrong when it came to battle strategy and that made you invaluable to him. At least, that’s what made you invaluable to him at first. As time went by, you became so much more to him than just sound advice.

You turned to face your superior only to see him attempting to stifle his snickers with a gloved hand. “Did I say something funny, Colonel?”

He attempted to clear his throat but it was to no avail. The slight shake in his shoulders gave him away. “It’s nothing- at ease, soldier.”

You stared at him, unamused.

Realizing it was futile, he finally let himself laugh aloud. “The Colonel is hungry, huh? Last time I checked, I was the Colonel. And I’m not hungry.”

You crossed your arms stubbornly. “You’ll be hungry soon; you always eat around this time anyway. And besides, I’m hungry.”

He smirked. “Are you telling me you’re throwing my name around just to get yourself a free dinner? Tell me, my oh-so-lovely-adjutant, does that sound like abuse of power to you?”

“Nope. Like I said, you’re going to get hungry here soon anyway.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

His stomach growled right on cue.

You raised a brow at him as if to say “I told you so.”

He laughed again, holding his hands up in surrender. “Fine, fine. Who knew you had my eating schedule all memorized?” He nudged you playfully with his elbow and you couldn’t help but relax slightly at his familiar touch, biting back a smile.

You knew he was supposed to be your boss, but he’d always made you feel more like equals than anything else. You were always the first person he greeted when he walked into work, and you were the only person he bid farewell to when he left. He kept you at his side almost constantly, seeking advice when he needed it, or simply company when he wanted it. This line of work could be gruesome at times, but somehow he felt that life was a little less gray when you were there to make him laugh.

Sometimes you’d pretend you were the only one who could make him open up like this. If anyone had seen the two of you at work, they would’ve agreed. To anyone else in the Farspace Fleet, he was the Colonel- calm, cool, collected. To you, he was Caleb- silly, stubborn, sensitive. Sometimes you’d even pretend he was your Caleb. But then you’d see that damn necklace around his neck and that familiar pain would trickle back into your chest like a poison seeping into your veins.

He wasn’t yours. He was never yours. He was… hers.

Every time he left for Linkon, every time he gave you that mock salute before grinning widely and telling you to “hold down the fort” until his return, every time he waved at you as he boarded the train, you felt your heart sink more and more. You wondered if maybe one of these days, he just wouldn’t come back. If maybe he’d run off with her, marry her. And then he’d forget all about you.

It wasn’t until he bounded off the train with a souvenir in hand for you ( he got you one every single time, without fail, whether he was gone for a day or a week), that you felt you could breathe again. It wasn’t until he was in the passenger seat of your car, letting you drive him home, listening to an album you’d both discovered together, that you felt you could relax again. It wasn’t until he was making you dinner in his home, the way he always did as thanks for picking him up, that you felt you could finally forget about her for a moment.

But it didn’t help that he always wore that damn thing everywhere he went. Even now, as you waited for the soldier to bring you and Caleb dinner, you couldn’t help but glare at the stupid hunk of metal. What an ugly design- she couldn’t have picked something more classy? It was the most unrefined thing he owned; you were sure you would’ve picked something more suited to him had you been given the chance. But you knew he’d never give you the chance.

Without meaning to, you let out a small sigh as you sank into your desk beside him.

“I don’t plan to return to Linkon anytime soon.”

You froze in your chair. Had he really caught on that quickly? You must not have been as subtle as you’d thought. “What do you mean?” You asked nonchalantly.

“That sigh. You always sigh like that whenever I say I’m going to Linkon. Well, I have no intention of making any visits in the near future.”

You had only meant to glance over at him briefly but when your eyes met his, you found it impossible to look away. You reminded yourself to breathe. “You’re not? How come?”

“No reason to.” He shrugged.

Bullshit. He had a reason. He had a good fucking reason and you hated it. You hated her. Without ever knowing her personally, without ever meaning to, you’d begun to hate her for the simple act of having him. “Oh really? No one to visit?” You asked innocently.

He chuckled. “Just say it if you’re gonna think it.”

“Think what?”

He raised a brow at you. “Really? We’re gonna play that game? Fine, I’m good at games. What should we play, 21 questions? Shall I guess what’s bothering you?” He moved to pinch your cheek and laughed when you swatted him away.

You could tell he was about to press the issue so you were grateful when the soldier finally returned with your meals. “Eat.” You commanded Caleb.

He saluted you. “Yes, ma’am.”

You ate in silence, but you could feel him sneaking glances at you. You didn’t dare reciprocate the eye contact for fear you’d never be able to look away.

“Hey.” The sudden solemnity in his voice surprised you.

“What is it?” You picked at your food some more as you waited for him to speak.

“Would you say I’m… needed?” His voice cracked slightly.

Well now you had to look at him. Just what on earth was going on in his head? You were just talking about Linkon, and now he was breaking out some existential philosophy? “Needed as in what?”

He winced. “Never mind.”

“No, I’m serious. As in what? As in the Farspace Fleet’s Colonel? Or as in Caleb?”

He picked at the edge of his desk. “I dunno. Both, I guess.”

“Honestly?”

He hesitated and then nodded slowly.

“The Farspace Fleet has never been more impressive in its entire history than it’s been under your command. But does it need you? No. So if you wanted to do something else, be something else, you could. You could do anything you wanted.”

“And… Caleb?”

You smiled warmly. “I’ll always need Caleb. He owes me a date, by the way; if you see him, tell him he’s not allowed to bail on me like he did last time; concert tickets are nonrefundable and expensive, and his oh-so-lovely-adjutant doesn’t make as much money as he does.”

He cracked a smile. “Caleb doesn’t get a break even when he’s sick, huh? Alright, I’ll be sure to tell him. No one messes with the Colonel’s adjutant, after all.”

And just like that, you were back to normal.

“He really did bring us steak dinners,” Caleb laughed as he cut up his food.

“I said steak, didn’t I? You should know better than anyone there’s consequences when you don’t listen to me.” You wagged your finger at him in warning and it only made him laugh harder.

“When I brought you on as my adjutant, I didn’t think I’d be hiring a comedian as well. Tell me- do you play venues or am I the sole viewer of your comedy act?” He teased.

“Neither. Both would imply I’m getting paid to be funny and unfortunately I am not. Unless you’d like to add my humor to your bill.” You winked at him.

He shook his head, grinning. “Unfortunately, my dear, I don’t think the Farspace Fleet can afford such quality humor. Will you accept payment in Caleb’s homemade dinners instead?”

Your eyes lit up. “Absolutely! Tastes better than this shit anyway.” You gestured to the food before you.

He chuckled. “You’re the one who made a big deal out of requesting it and now you don’t like it? So hard to please.”

“This steak is so well done, you’d think a crematory cooked it. I like Caleb’s medium rare steak much better.” You made a point out of chomping aggressively on the chewy hunk of meat.

He shook his head, grinning. Then he glanced down and began to poke the food around his plate, and you knew it was time to ask.

“So why wouldn’t you be needed?”

He choked on his water. “Wh-what?”

“You asked if you were needed and it was right after we were talking about your visits to Linkon. Did something happen?” You knew this was a sensitive topic, but you also knew him. He’d beat around the bush until the day he died. He’d tell you a million things, but never how he felt. He’d allude to it, dance around it, but never outright say it. Not unless you dragged it out of him.

“Not… not really.” He cleared his throat and continued to jab at his food with his fork. There it was. The famous Caleb avoidance tactic.

“You get into a fight with her or something?”

He bit his lip. “Nothing gets by you, huh? Yeah… something like that.”

“Nuh-uh. You’re not doing that shit with me, Caleb. She might let you get away with it, but I won’t. You know damn well I won’t. Come on- spill.” You demanded.

He gave you a sheepish look. “I’m fine, really.”

“You start getting all existential on me about if you’re needed and then you tell me you’re fine? You think I don’t know you any better?” You were starting to get annoyed, but you took a deep breath, trying to be patient with him. You knew this was hard for him. “It’s me, silly. I won’t tell anyone. Hell, I didn’t even tell anyone you cried during that dog movie.”

He snorted. “It died! It’s not my fault I cried. They make those movies specifically so you cry.”

You laughed and nudged him with your elbow. “So, if I can keep a secret about the all powerful Colonel of the Farspace Fleet blubbering like a baby, I can surely listen to you rant about your girl for one minute. C’mon. Let loose.”

He hesitated but then he gave in the way he always did when you persisted like this. “She… she said she didn’t need me anymore. She said she could take care of herself. She didn’t like the way I’ve been ‘acting’ now that I’m Colonel. I was just… I was just trying to protect her the… the only way I know how.” His fork clattered onto the plate as pain flashed across his eyes. “Anyway, point is, she doesn’t want me around anymore. So I’m… I’m here.”

Your brow twitched. “I’m sorry- the fuck does she mean she doesn’t need you? What, she thinks she’s all grown now and doesn’t need anybody? Even adults need to lean on each other sometimes, getting older doesn’t mean you stop relying on others. She’s too immature; only immature people go around claiming that they’ve ‘matured’ and don’t need help anymore. I’m telling you Caleb, I’ve been telling you, you seriously need someone older.” You paused to see how he was taking your ranting. He only listened in silence.

You set a hand on top of his and very gently said, “I could blow up her house if you wanted.”

That made him smile a little. “You know that’s not what I want. But I appreciate the offer.”

“I know, I know. You’re too good to people sometimes, Caleb. I think between the two of us, I’m the meaner one. I’d march right up to her -if you’d let me- and tell her exactly what I thought of her bullshit.”

He shook his head. “I don’t think that’s entirely accurate. You’re definitely the better one out of the two of us. You don’t… you don’t know the things that I’ve…”

“What- the things that you’ve done? Honey, I’m your partner in crime. The things you’ve done, I’ve done them with you.”

“But you don’t know what I… what I tried to do to her.” He admitted weakly.

“So lay it on me. What’s so scary that you think you can’t tell me?”

“I told her-” He swallowed, eyes darting away from yours. “That I’d lock her up to keep her safe. That it’d be safer for her by my side.”

“And?”

His eyes flicked back up to yours, wondering if he misheard you. “What do you mean, and?”

“And what else? Was that it?”

He huffed slightly, but there was no annoyance in his voice. “Of course you would think that’s fine.”

“But you’re right though. There is no safer place in the world than by your side. Besides the fact that you’ve got the coolest superpower in the world (seriously- it’s such a cheat), and that you’re a great fighter, you also just have the sway that comes with being the Colonel. She’d be an idiot to not realize that. Yeah, sure, you could’ve maybe worded the whole ‘lock you up’ thing better, but it’s like you said; you were only doing the best you could in the only way you knew how. I wouldn’t fault you for that.”

He stared at you for a moment. “You’re crazy, you know that?”

You gave him a wink. “Absolutely batshit, thank you.”

He laughed. “How is it that you always know how to make me feel better?”

“Umm, maybe because I’m the best adjutant in the world and you should pay me more?” You teased, nudging him again.

He snorted. “You wish. But seriously. Thanks. I needed that.”

You nodded. “Now, let’s go get drunk and talk about how much women suck. I’ll buy.”

He raised an eyebrow, amused. “But… you’re a woman. And you don’t drink. And you’re broke.”

You shrugged. “But my best friend drinks and he looks like he could use a drink and a good, old ranting session. And again, if you just paid me more, I wouldn’t be so broke.” You grinned unabashedly.

He took in the sight of your grin and couldn’t help but smile himself. You always had the brightest of smiles. It was damn near impossible to be upset around you.

The two of you soon found your way to a bar; Caleb specifically picked one near his house because he was sure he’d have to carry you home drunk. You insisted that you weren’t that much of a lightweight and even proposed a drinking competition but by the time you’d gotten one and a half drinks in, you were already dozing off in his arms. He chuckled as he gazed down at you fondly. Signaling to the bartender to close out his tab, he scooped you up in his arms and walked you to his house.

When he got inside, he laid you on his bed and simply watched you for a moment. He was tempted to crawl up beside you, as he was sure you wouldn’t mind, but then he thought better of it. He’d sleep on the couch instead. He turned to leave, but then decided instead to bend down and kiss the top of your head before whispering, “Thanks again for tonight. I had fun.”

He began to pull away, but before he could get too far, you latched onto him in your sleep and yanked him into bed beside you. He tensed up, unsure of what to do in this situation, but the sound of your even, happy breathing made his heart lurch in his chest. He could listen to it all night. He probably would be listening to it all night, because he wasn’t sure he could sleep with how tightly you were clinging to him. Did you even know what you were doing?

“Caleb…” You murmured in your sleep, nuzzling even closer to him.

He covered his mouth to stifle his chuckle. Yeah, you totally knew what you were doing. What was he going to do with you?

He brushed your hair to the side gently, wanting to get a better look at your slumbering face. You were adorable, there was no other way to put it. He wasn’t sure why he was thinking these things, as he was sure he would never dare to in broad daylight, but somehow, as you dozed off beside him, your perfume soaking into his shirt, he couldn’t help but enjoy it. Enjoy you.

He wondered if things could’ve been different, if you would’ve been the only one in his heart and in his bed like this, had he grown up in Skyhaven like you had. Would you have gone to school together? Would you have sat beside him? Would you have had lunch with him? Would he have had the nerve to ask you to the prom? He shook his head, laughing softly to himself. Probably not. He was plenty outgoing, but a pretty girl like you? He’d choke over his own words. It seemed he never had enough nerve when it came to matters of the heart. All he ever did was hold back how he was feeling and what he was thinking. But not… not with you.

His brows furrowed suddenly at the realization. Did he have a single secret from you? He swore he only had the one, and you’d just coaxed it out of him only hours ago. Now that he thought about it, you were the only person who truly knew him. The only one he shared everything with. Of course, he had someone he loved, someone he’d loved his whole life, but even she didn’t know all of his secrets. You were the only one he told them to. You were the… the only one he wanted to tell them to.

He tensed up again. How could he let this happen? This couldn’t happen. Besides the fact that he was already in love with someone, he shouldn’t have been sharing so much with one person anyway. You could betray him, you could leave him, or even worse, you could hate him. One day, he could share too much, and you would never look at him the same way again. And he couldn’t stand that.

Carefully, he pulled your arms off of him and made his way to the living room. He stared at the ceiling until sleep eventually took him.

In the morning, he woke up with a blanket around him. He blinked, still groggy from sleep. He hadn’t remembered to grab himself a blanket, where did it…

Suddenly he heard the soft sound of an inhale and an exhale, then another inhale and exhale. He quickly turned on his side. There you were, sleeping on the floor. You’d given him the blanket he’d had on his bed. He pinched the bridge of his nose, frustrated. What the hell were you doing? Why were you on the floor? Didn’t he leave you in the bedroom? How long had you been here? He hoped to god you hadn’t been here long, otherwise you might get a cold from the lack of a blanket. He quickly scooped you up in his arms, attempting to settle you on the couch where he had previously been laying, so that he could wrap you up in the blanket, but you slowly began to stir.

“C-Caleb? What’re you-” You rubbed your eyes. “What’re you doin?”

He sighed. “What am I doing? What are you doing, why were you sleeping on the floor when I clearly put you on the bed, huh?”

You gave him a sleepy smile. “That’s an easy one. Cuz it’s your house. You should get the bed, silly. I tried to wake you up to get you to come to bed, but you were knocked out. Was like talking to a pile of bricks. So I brought you the blanket and slept on the floor.” You said it as though it were the simplest thing in the world.

He groaned. “You dork, I put you on the bed on purpose. How long have you been sleeping out here with no blanket on?”

“I dunno… couple hours?” You sat up slowly.

He rested his hand on your forehead, brow creased with concern.

“Watcha doin?”

“Making sure you’re not sick or something, cuz you slept in the cold like a dumbass.”

You grinned. “And? What’s my diagnosis, doc?”

“You’re not sick; you’re just stupid.” He flicked you in the forehead.

You laughed. “Good morning to you too, Cap’n Cranky.”

“Morning, goofball. I said I owe you one of Caleb’s homemade meals, right? How ‘bout I make you breakfast? I’ll make it nice and warm to make up for you sleepin in the cold.”

You straightened in excitement, nodding your head enthusiastically.

He cracked a smile and then got to work cooking.

No matter how many times you’d watched Caleb cook, you never got tired of it. You loved the way he expertly diced his vegetables, the way every cube was the same size. You loved the way he flicked his wrist out and flipped the pan. You loved the way he’d dip a pinky into the sauce to taste its flavor. You loved the way he hummed to himself when he got really into it. You loved everything about him.

“You know, I think I just might be your biggest fan, Chef Caleb.” You called out.

He grinned. “Only cuz I bribe you with my food. You wouldn’t like me so much if I didn’t feed you.”

“Hey- that’s not true. I’d like you no matter what.” You declared.

You might’ve imagined it, but you swore you saw him hesitate for a moment.

“Caleb?”

He blinked and his smile returned. “Sorry, spaced out.”

You stared at him carefully.

He sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze. “What? Why’re you staring?”

“Caleb, it’s too early to be doing this.”

“Doing what?” He asked innocently as he stirred the pot.

“To be hiding things. You know you can’t hide things from me, you have a terrible poker face.”

“Hey- I have a great poker face, I’ll have you know.” He said, putting a hand over his chest in mock offense.

“Says the guy who is trying to avoid the topic by continuing to talk about poker faces.” You retorted.

He sighed and turned the stove off. “Fine, fine. I should know better by now, nothing gets past you. I was just… I was just thinking last night about some things.”

You sighed. “Caleb. You’re going to have to elaborate on ‘some things.””

“I know, I’m getting there. It’s just… do you think… there would ever be a day when you don’t like me anymore?” He asked quietly.

You snorted. “Nope. Never.”

“But what if… what if I did something really bad? What if I hurt you?”

“I’d forgive you.”

“But what if I hurt someone you care about?”

“You’re the only person I care about.”

“But what if-”

“Caleb, where is this all coming from? What’s going on? Don’t you trust me?” You cut him off suddenly. You could tell he was starting to spiral.

He winced. “I do… it’s just… sometimes I think I’m not cut out to have any sort of close relationship with anyone. My… my hands are far too stained with blood and I-”

“Well, if I stain my hands right beside you, who’s to say whose blood it is?”

His eyes widened. “Wh-what?”

“I’m saying, I’ll hold your hand no matter what. I’ll stand by you no matter what. I don’t care what you do, I don’t care what you’ve done, I don’t care what you’re going to do. You’re stuck with me. If you’re in it, I’m in it too.”

He let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

You walked over to him and wrapped your arms around him, enveloping him in a tight hug. “You dork, is this why you left the bed last night?”

He tensed up. “You… you knew I was lying with you?”

“Yeah and you were warm and then you left and it was cold. So it’s your fault if I get sick.”

“I just said you weren’t sick,” He grumbled, but a smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

“Don’t bottle your feelings up again, okay? Just tell me if you’re feeling down. I don’t care if I’m asleep, I don’t care if I’m mid-shit, I will drop anything and everything for you.”

“Well I definitely wouldn’t interrupt you if you were mid-shit,” He laughed. “But I will keep that in mind… thanks. I really do appreciate it. You… you have no idea what it means to me to know that you’re there for me.”

“I’ll always be here for you. And my offer still stands; I will totally blow up her house if you ever want me to. I never liked her anyway.”

He shook his head, chuckling. “What’s with you and explosions? I really will have to keep you in line, won’t I?”

“Keep me in line? Who’s the one who flanked right when I said left and went down the hill in a landslide?” You raised a brow at him.

He groaned, palming his face with a hand. “I said I was sorry, how many times you gonna keep bringing that up?”

“As many times as it takes for you to know that I’m always right.”

“Yeah, yeah- you’re always right, eat your damn breakfast.” He laughed as he shoved a bowl of food at you and directed you to his dining room. Then he slid into a chair beside you, nudging you gently with his arm.

The two of you ate in silence but it was a comfortable silence. The kind you can relax in when you know the other person is waiting for you on the other side of that silence. The kind you can only enjoy when you truly cherish the company you have.

“This is nice; I should bother you for breakfast more.”

He let out a breathy laugh. “Is that right? What should I charge you for in return?”

“Is my undying attention not enough?”

“Undying attention is pretty good. But my home cooked meals are a hefty price. How about your undying attention and no more secrets between the two of us?”

You stared at him curiously. “We already have no secrets.”

“I think we have a grand total of one.”

“One? That’s one I’ve never heard of.”

“You still haven’t told me why you get upset every time I go to Linkon.”

You choked on your porridge. “Upset? I don’t get upset. The weather is just terrible there and I don’t want you to get sick.”

He raised a brow at you. “Now who’s got a bad poker face?”

“I think we should have no secrets except for my one. It’ll be the only exception. And then no secrets after that.” You mumbled in between bites. You were now feeling the need to stuff your cheeks so full that it was physically impossible to answer him. God, your behavior was ridiculous, and you knew it was, but you couldn’t help yourself. How was it that you could control an entire fleet and yet you couldn’t control your own feelings? You weren’t even sure you could control your face right now. You were sure your cheeks were as red as the sunrise.

“What’s so big a deal about your one secret? I told you I was willing to lock someone up for the rest of their life, and your secret is worse than that?”

You nodded quickly. “Oh my god, so much worse.”

He crossed his arms, unconvinced.

“You’ll honestly never look at me the same way again, I think it’s probably for the best if we keep this one under wraps.” You said weakly. You didn’t dare to look him in the eye.

“You said you’d like me no matter what. Well, I’m the same way with you. I’ll like you no matter what.”

“That’s-” You cleared your throat. “Kinda the issue.” You mumbled under your breath.

He tilted his head towards you, straining to hear your last words. “What did you say?”

“I said I need a tissue. Too much porridge. Messy stuff.” For good measure, you let some of it drip down your lip, shrugging your shoulders as if to say “What can you do?”

He rolled his eyes before grabbing a napkin. You thought he’d just hand it to you but instead he gently wiped the porridge from your face. His fingers brushed against your lips once. Then twice. Then again.

“Um… I think you got it.” You blushed.

“How long are we going to keep doing this?” He murmured, eyes fixed on the fingers that were still caressing your lips.

You swallowed. “Doing what?”

“Pretending.”

Your eyes widened and you pulled away suddenly, standing up straight instead. “Anyway-I-think-everything-is-going-to-work-out-great-your-girl-will-be-over-herself-in-no-time-at-all-and-you’ll-be-back-in-Linkon-before-you-know-it-okay-great-talk-I’m-gonna-go-wash-my-dishes-now-thank-you-so-much-for-the-meal.” You blurted out hurriedly before escaping to the kitchen.

“This is my house, you know. You can’t run and hide from me!” He called from the dining room, his voice getting louder as he made his way towards you.

“Not hiding!” You called back.

“Bullshit.” His arms wrapped around your waist, turning you to face him. He backed you against the kitchen counter. “Tell me the truth.”

You flinched. “I can’t.”

“You can, you just won’t. But if you’re gonna go and bottle up your feelings, then I can too, right?” His voice dropped to a low tone, almost like he was threatening you with his own feelings.

You sighed. “Fine. Fine, no secrets. But just… could you turn around and look the other way? I can’t say it when you’re looking at me like that.”

“No- you made me spill my guts to your face yesterday. It’s only fair you do the same.”

“Caleb!” You whined.

“No. Come on. Just tell me. I promise that whatever it is, it won’t make me think any less of you.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose in frustration. “Alright. Okay. Fine. I’m in love with you. There. Happy?”

“Immensely.”

Without another word, he kissed you.

Your whole body froze. What? What was going on? Oh. You had to still be sleeping. That had to be it. There was no way he was actually kissing you. He was still in love with what's-her-face. There was no way he was-

His tongue slid into your mouth.

Your eyes squeezed shut as a whimper tumbled past your lips. Oh god, he was actually kissing you. And he tasted good. Kinda like porridge. But good. Oh god, why was he kissing you? Did you even care? Wait, yes, you very much did care. You very much did not want to be a rebound. No way in hell. You’d rather be in the friend zone than the rebound zone. God no.

You quickly pulled away from him, gasping for breath.

“Did you not like it?” He asked, eyes looking slightly hurt as they skimmed over you, trying to find an answer.

“Ha… did I like it? Of course I liked it.” You grumbled under your breath, still looking away from him.

“So then why-”

“Because I’m not her. I’m not sure if you realize that.” You’d snapped and you hadn’t meant to snap. Oh fuck, you really hadn’t meant to snap.

You heard him exhale a shaky breath.

Oh no. No, you really weren’t trying to hurt him. You immediately turned to reach for him.

“Ha. Got you to look at me.” He smirked.

Oh, you bastard. You scoffed and flicked him in the forehead. “Jackass. Why are you acting all hurt?”

He leaned in towards you, grinning. “Why are you acting all sensitive? Aren’t you in love with me? Usually, people wanna kiss the person they’re in love with; I mean, I get that you’re new at this love thing-” He teased.

You pinched his cheeks, interrupting his speech. “Yeah, yeah. You’re being a pain in my ass right now, you know that? And besides, I refuse to be your rebound, so maybe you should be careful who you go around kissing.”

His grin faded. “What do you mean? It’s not like I’m going around town kissing people. Just you. You’re the only one I want to kiss.”

You raised a brow at him, unconvinced. “You were just in love with someone else, only moments ago.”

“Hey, that was yesterday. I’m a whole new me today.” He attempted to joke lightheartedly but he couldn’t help the feeling of heaviness that had begun to settle in his chest. You didn’t believe him. Of course you didn’t believe him. He didn’t blame you, but it still hurt.

“Caleb- you were in love with her for years. That doesn’t just go away. I’m not gonna be the bandaid on a gaping wound.”

His expression grew serious and he straightened. “I know. I don’t expect you to be. But I think… I think we’ve been done for a while now. I just didn’t want to accept it. I was always… changing myself to be whatever I thought she’d like. When I finally got comfortable enough to show her who I really was… well, you know how that went. But you…you’re the only person who sees me and loves me anyway.”

“So what? Doesn’t mean you love me back.” It killed you to say the words, but it was true nonetheless. As badly as you wanted to be his, as badly as you wanted him to kiss you nonsensically until you forgot all rationale, until you forgot your own name, until you forgot what day it was, as badly as you wanted him to cuddle you to sleep, to be there when you woke in the morning, you didn’t want it if he didn’t want it. He’d had enough of pretending in his life; he didn’t need to pretend to love you back just to appease you. It’s not like you would quit your job if he rejected you. You’d already stayed by his side regardless of your feelings and his lack of return on them. You didn’t want to be just one more person he had to change for.

“No, you’re right. It doesn’t mean that. But I do love you, regardless. Love is a choice; I choose you.” He said it so simply. Like he was reciting a book, like he was just stating a fact.

“But what if I don’t want you to choose me just because I’m the only one who understands you? If someone else comes along who understands you just as well as I do, will you want them instead?”

He shook his head. “I’m not choosing you because you’re the only one who understands me. I’m choosing you because you’re the only one I want to understand me. You’re the only one who makes me laugh every damn day, the only one I want to laugh with every damn day. You’re the only person who tells me when I’m being stupid, and the only person I listen to when I’m being stupid. Hell, you’re the only person I can’t live without. I’ve already been living without her this entire time, between the long distance and the long missions, but from the moment I met you, I knew I’d need you. So let me need you. Let me love you.” He held his breath as he waited for your response. “It’s also a no charge on Caleb’s homemade meals for his girlfriend,” He added on lightheartedly, hoping you’d laugh.

You bit your lip in attempts not to.

But he knew you better than that. He grinned. “There she is. Hi, baby.”

Your cheeks flushed. “Caleb! You can’t just call me that- I’ve not even said yes yet!”

He smirked. “Yeah, but your cheeks already did.” He kissed each side of your blushing face.

“No charge on meals and you’re paying for concert tickets.” You grumbled, attempting to remain serious.

He laughed heartily. “Only you would attempt to put a price on a relationship. Fine. Sounds like a deal to me. I still think I got the better end of the bargain anyway.” He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you towards him before beaming down at you and peppering you with light kisses here and there. “I get a woman who’s both generous and gorgeous. She just gets Caleb.”

“Well, Caleb is more than enough for her. She loves Caleb exactly the way he is.”

“He’s starting to love Caleb the way he is too. All because of her.”

Taglist: @tbaluver @pixelcafe-network @ouiouimochi @inkytypewriter @minasfwoopyponytail

[genevawrenn]

I am still brainstorming about The Secret League of Alchemists [tr!Sneeg, tr!Clown & tr!Ros] after today's streams [Ros & Sneeg have VODs] cause there are simply so many good points that happened and that conversation played out exactly how I would have wanted it to. From both a character and creator POV, well-fucking-done.

Alright, onto this ramble [from now on I will be talking about character unless I specify].

First of all, I am so fucking glad Sneeg was the one to notice the fact Ros left Yellow and had the tough conversation about what happened with her. Up until that point, at least from the VODs I have seen, Ros has only really known his silly, bantering side, I am not sure she even really trusted him to be venerable up until today when she took a chance and I am so happy she did. She watched him and Clown drive each other insane and had issues differentiating between their tones if they were serious or not but I think she finally understands how Sneeg acts when he is locked in on something.

Because he handled everything BEAUTIFULLY.

He took the time to sit down and listen to her, asking thought provoking questions as he tries to narrow down the motivation of their opposition. Checking with their comfort before giving them the respect of privacy and taking them to somewhere no one would follow, allowing them to speak freely and without judgement. Speaking straight up of what he was witness too, backing them up whenever they needed yet giving the respect to make the decisions they have to.

I absolutely ADORE the fact Clown also showed up, and without second guessing anything about the subject content and immediately locks in, takomg the time to listen to his obviously hurting friend. The fact he tries to talk about Sneeg's machine upon his arrival on the mushroom island and Sneeg refuses for the conversation to be deflected, instead forcing the subject back to the one he wished to focus on and its so masterfully well done.

Clown and Sneeg have surprised me the most, I think, loyalty wise. The Kingdom of Fools was a unity of misfits who became family forced together through gathering materials and protecting against attacks from all fronts. They have become an inseparable trio who has now proved they have one another's backs, alongside Foolish, as that's who they believe the core of the Kingdom is. They are willing to tackle issues head on together, refusing to let anyone stumble and fighting at their side until the bitter end.

Clown, Sneeg, Ros and Foolish have become united through circumstances and family through loyalty, only hoping for the best for the fellow members of their Kingdom.

I love how Sneeg describes Ros as being the castle, the centerpiece of their faction. She started the foundations to give them shelter and fought back each exhausting time it has been threatened. She is the origin, the keystone, the bloody heart of the Kingdom of Fools gilded in gold and royal purples. She was the interim Queen when Foolish fell, immediately accepted and backed up by the rest of the Fools.

I think after Foolish sacrificed himself it brought a lot into perspective for the remaining members, and Sneeg made his choice of who he would stand by in times of chaos. He found a warrior-in-arms with Clown who despite all their bickering, both would protect each others backs without question.

"You are the Kingdom, The entirety of the Kingdom was built around a structure you made, willingly."

Perfect guards for their Kingdom, otherwise known as Ros, the Royal Architect. She is the foundations, the structures and the walls who will save her people despite the weather that batters her and the sieges that befall her fortifications.

But like hell she is facing it alone, especially now.

She created a safe space for her people to gather and build their future, now in her times of strife two of the people who earned her respect stepped up to protect her when she stumbled.

I haven't watched much of Clown's content, or Ros before this world but now I want to know so much more.

Because I see the reputation Clown wears like a comfortable, worn sweater, totally confident with what his ruthless nature has bought him. But even someone so terrifying can hide a soft heart, and Ros has clearly earned the terrifying pvper's friendship.

Simply by being herself and building a home, people gathered to inhabit it and now are willing to go through hell and high water to save their safe space. Two of the server's most feared have made their stance known, at the side of the personification of everything their Kingdom stands for.

Its beautiful poetry watching the one who nutured malice instead of love get his just desserts, and I am eagerly awaiting their King's return but I trust in the core trio who has kept this Kingdom afloat week after week.

They are strongest together, and today proved that in so many ways. I adore and love this trio, and hope this open communication remains a habit between them, because knowing they can come to one another without judgement and be reassured of their worth.

Sneeg made sure to have emphasis that Ros has an incredible amount of worth to the Kingdom even beyond the castle she built, because she is the keystone who united them and holds them all together.

Oh my Secret League of Alchemists, though I did not know you before I am delighted to make your acquaintance now. One of my favourite tropes is scary souls who have a soft spot for those they care for, I hope it continues long into the future because they cooked a whole meal and then some with each and every action from today's story.

Bravo. Give me more.

[sweetascherry1]

I’ll be watching you — Lee Byung-hun

Description: Over the years your fans has slowly watched you and Lee Byung-Hun fall in love. They finally get to see you guys working on a project together for the first time since G.I. JOE. What even better? The promotion for the Netflix hit Squid Games.

Parings: Lee Byung-Hun x Actor F!Reader

Warnings: Some use of Y/N.

2013 G.I. JOE Retaliation Promotion.

The bright lights of the cameras shined on you and your co-star, while the interviewer asked you basic questions.

“So how did the two of you feel with this new casting. Mr Lee who had already played in the original G.I. Joe movie and you who has just now made her debut.”

You look to Byung-hun silently pleading for him to take on the question first. Luckily one look your way and he knew your silent question. Something you had found yourself grateful for.

“The entire cast is full of amazing actors, who are so caring and gentle.” Slowly you felt your nails picking at your cuticles as you thought of your answer. “I had a lot of fun working with these guys — and everyone on the crew makes it so fun.”

You didn’t noticed at first, and honestly neither did the interviewer. He was so slick with the way he slid his hand into yours, stopping your bad habit. Giving your hand a gentle squeeze before you answering as encouragement.

Your voice didn’t waver as you let the warmth of his hand bring you back to earth.

“Working on a project this big, with these actors who I truly admire is something I’m so excited about. This my ‘debut’ and it’s crazy to me that this is all really real.”

Before the interviewer could ask his next question Byung-hun didn’t think before keeping your conversation going. Helping your nerves.

“Going Hollywood is definitely something that is nerve wracking. I remember how crazy the whole thing was for me.”

Your little smile at him made the fans go crazy when the video came out. The hand holding, and little gentle reassurances he would do throughout the entire thing was something fans couldn’t get enough of as they would re-watch it over and over.

—

Photos flashed everywhere, blinding you as you stepped onto the movie premiere. Your dress was gorgeous, just like you. Your hair and makeup styled perfectly, you had honestly felt like a princess.

And in true prince fashion, Byung-hun stepped in when he saw you picking as your nails again.

Smiling at the photographers, he grabbed your hand. Leaning down to whisper in your ear; “your hands are too pretty to mess up. Squeeze mine instead.”

When he straightened his posture, and smiled once again for the cameras, as if nothing happened, you couldn’t help but think maybe that’s when you first felt it.

Devotion, wrapped in admiration.

He had helped you so much with your anxiety, some would say it was inevitable to favor him. “Thank you.” All he did was simply squeeze your hand back.

The blinding lights going crazy over the hand holding. Surely it would cause rumors, but for once you didn’t let it get to your head. Simply holding his hand instead.

—

For Lee Byung-hun, he had only thought of you as a co-worker. While your admiration for the man was so obvious, he couldn’t help but thing it was a silly crush you had because he helped you in tough situations.

He kept it professional, denying at friend invites you sent him, or any drink you’d offer him. Though he changed perspectives after watching you most recent single interview.

“Many of your fans are interested with your relationship with your co-star Lee Byung-hun. Can you elaborate on it?”

Truth was you felt nervous at this question, you didn’t know the right way to answer. Though you knew you wanted to be honest and not let the rumors continue, even if it may disappoint some.

“Ah, well truth be told there is no relationship I can really explain. This movie is the first time I’ve had such a big role.

While filming, it’s true I had quite a few scenes with Storm Shadow, more often than not. While filming those scenes I’d watch the way Lee Byung-hun embodied his character.

It was something I was truly impressed about, and so since our characters were so intwined with each other — we were paired for most promotional videos.”

You took a deep breath before continuing, grateful that the interviewer didn’t interrupt.

“During our first promo video, I was extremely nervous. This is such a big film and I was so in my head — seeing this my co-working held my hand to help with my anxiety.

People who support me loved it. Was all for it, but all it was, was him helping a co-worker out. The same thing happened at the movie premiere.

While on that carpet my heart was pounding and he was there to offer support. That’s all, the rest is rumors. I simple just admire him and someone to learn from.”

You felt a little shaky but ultimately felt better after clearing air. In your eyes Mr Lee Byung-Hun was uncomfortable about the rumors. That’s why he wouldn’t ever socialize much with you, so you had felt proud of yourself for putting an end to it.

On the other hand, him hearing you say you only admire him from a person to learn from had hit him hard. A person he knew actually looked up to him. It was an honor, one he had became proud of.

So when he saw you next, he didn’t beat around the bush.

“I’m a person you admire?” You didn’t have a crush on him like he originally thought, and that’s the moment he wanted you be your friend.

That’s the moment he had devotion towards you. Devotion wrapped in friendship.

—

Your final cast interview. It was a long experience, but an unforgettable one. This whole movie had became something you truly loved, cast included.

“Each of you will read out a card, and say the answer within ten seconds. If you get it, you’ll gain points. Whoever has most wins.”

A simple game to finish it off. Easy peasy.

To the right of you, Dwayne went first. “In ten words, explain the film.” He read off before hurrying to put ten words out.

“Cobra.” One finger up. “Escapes.” Another. “While. Joes. That. Are. Left. Fight. Back.” One last word, but just before he could think of it — getting stuck the timer went off.

The whole crew laughed at his disappointment, and then next was your turn.

“I’m nervous.” You gave one deep breath before reading out your card. “Why should you watch the new movie.”

One. Two. “Have you seen this cast?” Five. Six. “Just look at Dwayne’s muscles.” Everyone laughed.

Dwayne got a little red, causing a little teasing. It was a good moment, a happy moment. So why was Byung-hun laughing?

In fact as it was a viral clip, not you teasing Dwayne, no it was Lee Byung-hun reaction that was viral.

“Have you seen this cast?” Byung-hun kept his entire focus on you, not even looking away once when you spoke. In fact throught most of the interview, he barely paid anyone else much attention. “Just look at Dwayne’s muscles.”

A bitter feeling bubbler under his skin, as he felt his blood hot. His jaw visibly clenched, as he glared at the man in question. Before looking you up as down, his fist the next to clench. Not a single laugh leaving his lips let alone a smile.

It went very viral, and Lee Byung-hun didn’t even try to deny what they were saying. Jealousy, yes. Though it wasn’t because he was romantically interested. He just felt a sense of belonging over you. Not in a toxic way, or at least not in his eyes.

Truth be told you only mentioned to him simply because you didn’t want him to be mad at you.

“What that video going around about?” A simple question. He was in your living room, laying down on your lap, eyes closed while you mindlessly scrolled through instagram.

Instantly he knew what you were talking about and once again he didn’t defend himself.

“I didn’t like how you mentioned him.”

“His muscles.”

A scoff slipped past his lips, “I have those too, you know?” He sat up, and didn’t hesitate to lift his shirt up to show you. His abs briefly capturing your full attention.

“Yea but there’s already enough rumors about us.” That was true, and he knew that but he just didn’t care.

“Let them talk.” He brushed a hair out your face, “we’re friends, and friends go over co-workers.”

Friends, neither of you doubted the word. But we’re friends so devoted to one another? So admirable to the other? So protective? Yet the word was never doubted.

—

Over the years

Over the years, neither of you worked on a project again. That didn’t matter, your friendship was still so ever strong.

Often at each other’s house, getting food, attending events. All your fans had was an occasional post about the other.

Once you posted putting a pretty pink bow in his hair, his face was in complete annoyance.

“Byung-hun. Look at me!” He knew you had your phone recording and he debated on weather or not to snatch before looking at you. Ultimately he settled for a glare.

“My pretty princess.” Oh he just might kill you. His head tilted as suddenly you felt a little hotter as he look up at you. Like he was going to devour you alive. “Princess? I’m the one that pampers you—“ before he could continue the video went black.

It was a fond memory of your and you had posted it. As expected whenever a post involving the other popped up it blew up.

Though his comment made even more chaos. As he so much loves to do. No joke, before he made the comment he laid on your bedroom floor breaking silence as he watched the video.

“How can I make this more chaotic.” You couldn’t help but sigh at him.

I dream so often of shutting your mouth. Any ideas?

It went crazy. Then again you’ve done that before, comment a wild thing on his post.

For instance, he posted a picture of himself sweating. Chain dangling (one you got him) and a devilish smile.

Have my kids, I’ll never talk back.

Yea?

You had purposely also sent him a private audio message, cat calling him.

The uproar your fans had, oh well let’s just say many articles broke out.

It was honestly fun, watching your fans want something so bad and just dangle it. Made the two of you feel euphoric on the power.

Yet that wasn’t the only thing you two had found euphoric.

Eventually at one point the two of decided to drink and drink. None of you think before you both crossed a line that was already so faded.

You kissed, and then kissed. Until you ending up the next morning both naked in bed.

The two of you decided for the best that none of it ever happen again, but even though you didn’t — it doesn’t mean you two forgot. In fact neither of you can look at wine the same.

Though, y’all’s restraint fell apart eventually as the two of you kept ending up in each other’s bed.

Most people wouldn’t be shocked if they knew, but oh the two of you were dumbfounded on why you guys could resist each other.

So began your friends with benefits era. A classic.

As that era ended, you both realized you had wanted more, so eventually causal dating was the next step for the two of you. In private of course.

—

Promotion of squid games

You and Byung-Hun both sat in front of cameras. Each looking at fan made videos. It was nice to see such creativity, or that what you thought going into this.

As the first video played, with weird dancing and animation, you couldn’t understand how Byung-Hun could keep a straight face.

“That was for sure… interesting.” The side eye you gave him, and then the camera was definitely clipped.

“I feel wrong.” Is all you had simply said. Which was true. “Definitely love the work put into this, and I think it’s cool how people made this. Just… not my cup of tea.”

A few more weird videos broke out, and some nice one with people singing the theme song, and etc.

The next fan video was an edit of the two of you. Simply just watching each other as the lyrics in the video played. Romantics clearly intended.

It didn’t surprise the two of you. Byung-hun turned his head to you, laughing a little.

“You know, a lot of our fans watched this show for us being in a film together. Yet our characters actually despise the other.” Your smile felt contagious to him as you laughed back.

“Are we the problem?”

The man simply nodded his head back before the two of you watched the next video.

—

Instagram

Liked by byunghun0712 and 345k others

yourusername Coming soon! ⏰

Username1 Ah! So exciting

Yourbestfrienduser MOMMY?!

byunghun0712 is this how I find out?

Liked by Yourbestfrienduser

Username2 OMFG 😭

Username3 so proud to Stan her

Liked by Yourusername and 455k others

byunghun0712 how come you never buy? @ yourusername

Yourusername cause I’m spoiled.

Liked by creator

Username1 see how me and him both eat McDonald’s? Meant to be trust

Yourusername honestly you’re so real for that.

Username2 AH, I love you in squid games

Username3 Frontman ❎ Hotman ✅

—

Lie detector interview.

“We are going to give you a set of questions, please answer yes or no.”

Nerves picked at your skin as your watch Byung-hun opposite from you.

They would start with true or false trivia, before going into more detail questions. He gave you a reassuring smile before reading out the first words.

“Is your name really Y/N?” Easy. “Yes.” The detector person gave a thumbs up and he went onto the next question.

“Is it true that you play in squid games season 2?” Another easy one. “Yes.” One more true or false. “Is it true you are very nervous?” The look you gave him was the most ‘duh’ bratty attitude ever.

“Yes.”

“Okay, now onto the actual questions.” He looked down at his card, almost laughing before reading it out to you.

“Have you ever injured yourself on the set of squid games?” You knew exactly what he was thinking about, and it took you a moment not to laugh as well.

“During one of my earlier scenes, I was drinking wine, that I thought was grape juice.” Byung-hun placed a card over his growing smile as you continued. “Well no one actually thought I was drinking actual wine. Nor did I. So I ended up getting a little flushed and tripped off my chair spraining my ankle.”

Amusement wouldn’t even began the joy your co-star had as he remembered the day he carried you back to your trailer.

“Did you have to learn Korean for this film.”

You tilted your head as you thought about it. “I didn’t learn it for this film, but I had learned it a while ago to surprise you because I felt bad you had to translate your thoughts before saying them.”

Lee Byung-hun remembers the first time you spoke to him in Korean. In fact he thinks that was the moment he fell in love with you.

You two had become the definition of she fell first but he fell harder.

You use to mess up so much, and he always loved it. Now you’re pretty fluent but he loves the moments where you ask him for help.

“Tell me more about your character.”

“I play a foreign player, that is intended to remind Gi-Hun about Ali. When I get into the games lots of drama, funny and stressful things begins to happen. I don’t wanna spoil it.”

“Well you passed!” As your began to unhook yourself from the machine, “not a single lie.”

“Not like I could.” You would rather be seen as the honest person you were anyways.

You had asked your co star similar questions but one was a heavily asked fan question.

“What’s your relationship with Co-Star Y/N L/N.” Even you began to feel nervous. Dating. You two were dating and had went a very long time keeping your confirmed relationship private.

But, as you both looked at each other you both knew there wasn’t a point in keeping things a secret.

“Dating.”

Let’s just say the PR for squid game was better than gold.

A/N: I have so many WIP, but no motivation to finish them 😭. So this is my very half attempt to get out of this writing slump! Otherwise I might go insane.

[tsumuus]

Ahhh hooray and congrats on the 1k!! Your valentine's event is so so cute, I love all the ideas! Could I please request a box of chocolates for ushijima? ❤

Valentine’s Day had always been one of those days you admired from afar- watching classmates exchange gifts, witnessing the blush of first confessions, and relishing in the general warmth that came with the occasion. This year, you had decided to contribute in your own way, spending the night before carefully crafting homemade chocolates for your entire class. Each small bag was tied with a delicate ribbon, each filled with sweets you had put time and effort into making.

You arrived at school with a tote bag full of the individually wrapped treats, excited to hand them out during the break period. As planned, you walked around the classroom, placing them gently onto each desk while greeting your classmates. Laughter and delighted murmurs filled the room as your friends and peers discovered their treats, thanking you with smiles and teasing remarks about how dedicated you were.

Among the many little packets, there was one that differed from the rest. It held the same chocolates, but nestled inside was a handwritten note- a playful confession meant for your best friend, meant to be nothing more than a joke. Something silly, something lighthearted. A harmless Valentine’s prank. You had intended to hand it to her personally, grinning as she opened it. But in the midst of distributing your gifts, you must have mixed up the bags.

And so, completely unaware of the mistake, you spent the rest of the day in blissful ignorance.

It wasn’t until the final bell rang that the atmosphere shifted. Most students had already left, filing out into the hallways to continue their Valentine’s Day plans. You remained at your desk, gathering your belongings when a shadow loomed over you.

Wakatoshi Ushijima stood before you, his towering presence as imposing as ever. His expression was unreadable, but there was a certain softness in his gaze that made your stomach twist in nervous anticipation. You barely spoke outside of school-related discussions; you were acquaintances at best. He was admired by many, respected for both his talent and sheer presence.

“Thank you for the chocolates,” he said, his voice steady and deep.

You smiled, pleased that he had enjoyed them. “Oh! Of course, Ushijima. I’m glad you liked them.”

For a brief moment, you wondered why he had sought you out just to say that. But before you could think too much about it, he continued.

“I feel the same way,” he stated matter-of-factly. “I would like to go out with you sometime.”

Your mind short-circuited.

“…Huh?”

Your breath caught in your throat as you looked down at his hand. There, between his fingers, was a very familiar piece of paper- the confession letter. Your confession letter. Your joke confession letter.

Your heart dropped to your stomach, and panic surged through you like wildfire.

“Oh my god,” you breathed out, hands flying up to your face. “Oh my god, oh my god-”

Ushijima’s brows furrowed slightly. “Is something wrong?”

“Yes!” you exclaimed, then immediately regretted it when you saw his expression falter just the slightest bit. “I mean- no! I mean- Ushijima, I think there’s been a mistake.”

He glanced down at the note. “The confession was not from you?”

“Well- no, it was from me,” you admitted, rubbing your temples, trying to piece your thoughts together. “But it wasn’t- it wasn’t meant for you. I mean, not that I wouldn’t-” You groaned, feeling heat rush to your cheeks. “It was a joke. I wrote it as a joke for my best friend, but you must have gotten the wrong bag.”

Silence stretched between you two as Ushijima processed your words. You half-expected him to retract his statement, to walk away and pretend the whole thing never happened. But he didn’t.

Instead, he nodded once, a firm sort of conviction in his movement. “Regardless, I meant what I said.”

You blinked. “…What?”

“I have liked you for some time now,” he stated bluntly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “I just never found the right moment to tell you. This seemed like an opportunity.”

You stared at him, feeling as though the ground had shifted beneath you. “You… have?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

Your pulse thundered in your ears. The idea that Ushijima Wakatoshi- stoic, composed, admired- had been harboring feelings for you all this time was nothing short of surreal. And yet, looking at him now, seeing the honesty in his expression, you realized that he was serious.

It wasn’t a joke to him. It had never been.

A part of you wanted to scream into the void. Another part of you, the part that had always admired him from a distance, felt an undeniable warmth spread through your chest.

You exhaled, trying to steady yourself. “I- um. I don’t really know what to say.”

“Then take your time,” he replied, his voice gentle in a way you hadn’t expected. “I will wait.”

You swallowed thickly, staring at him, at the quiet patience in his eyes. The reality of the situation was beginning to settle, and for the first time since the conversation started, you felt yourself relax.

“…Okay.” You met his gaze with a small, genuine smile. “Then… maybe we can start with getting to know each other better?”

He nodded, a subtle curve to his lips. “I would like that.”

As you gathered your things, preparing to walk out with him, you realized something strange about fate- that even with all your careful planning, life had a way of leading you to unexpected places. Perhaps, just this once, a mistake had led you exactly where you needed to be.

valentines event | masterlists

a/n ty for the request :) this is the first fic ive ever written for ushijima🙃 hope you liked it

[izvmimi]

cw: platonic!sanji x reader, luffy x reader. fluff. food mentioned.

“Sanji, can I ask you a silly question?’

Sanji’s hands a flurry of motion - it’s an entire spectacle and a half to watch him cook, even when he’s not meant to have an audience. And you’re not an audience still, rather you’re just an aide and also have your own separate task, mixing a concoction of a homemade electrolyte solution that you’ll ensure the more banged up members of the crew will drink - namely Luffy and Zoro given your most recent escapades - in addition to Sanji’s heavenly cooking.

He does hear you over the sizzle of onions and garlic, even if he doesn’t do more than shoot you a glance, the very end of a cigarette between his lips.

“Shoot,” he offers, with a flip of the pan. His other hand is now in his pocket, and it almost upsets you that he manages to look cool while making a hearty porridge. Everything about him is cool.

All the Straw Hat Pirates are cool perhaps, even if you might be the newest and least so.

Your eyes focus on the browning food in the pan before you look towards Sanji, your cheeks warming a moment as you consider what you’re about to say. You hope he doesn’t misunderstand, but it’s something that’s crossed your mind since a month after you joined the group.

Sanji doesn’t flirt with you anymore.

He’s gentlemanly, he’s polite, he is just as gracious to you as he is with Robin and Nami, but the kindness he affords you is not romantic in the same way, and it’s occurred to you more than once, that even if things may have been different within the first couple of weeks of you joining the Thousand Sunny, he would have absolutely accepted any if not all of your romantic attention, you’re almost certain that if you tried to flirt with him now, it would have the sexual appeal of an elderly woman calling her grandson a handsome young man.

“Am I…” you pause, and this gets Sanji to look in your direction with a polite interest. His eyebrows raise, and you’re sheepish even saying it out loud, but you push through anyway.

“Unattractive?”

Sanji freezes for a moment, turns about face, and practically does a spit-take in his laughter. Then looking back at you, realizing you’re not joking at all, but rather have turned stiff with a stony downcast expression.

“Oh shit, you’re serious.”

Your face nearly burns as hot as the stovetop.

“You know what, fucking forget it.” You turn to storm off, but Sanji calls after you.

“What on earth would make you think that?” he asks.

There’s no way to explain to a notorious skirt-chaser that his diminished interest in chasing your particular skirt concerns you, particularly when you are neither craving of this particular attention really, nor interested in him in that way. But rather, you wonder if it portends some … suboptimal quality in you, something that makes it such that the true object of your affections will similarly lose interest… if they develop any in the first place.

You wonder if you should bother responding at all, but insist on ignoring your misgivings. The power of this crew is its ability to trust, whether the issue is big or small.

“Okay, well you treat me differently from Robin and Nami.”

Sanji pauses for a moment and blinks. His head tilts for a moment, and you find yourself looking away, gritting your teeth. How embarrassing.

“Well, you are different.” Sanji replies simply.

Lead sinks into your belly. You shouldn’t have asked.

“Right.”

Your throat suddenly dry, you go ahead and grab your pitcher of electrolyte solution and pour out glasses for the crew, considering that maybe you should down it instead.

It’s the equivalent of making a pass at him, but that’s not it, is it?

Sanji somehow manages to pick up on it too.

“Maybe you aren’t that different from them, a flower of your own unique sort just like Nami and Robin-”

“You don’t have to-”

Sanji laughs.

“Well, Luffy thinks that you’re different.”

You pause for a moment, then pivot. 

“So Luffy is the one who’s convinced you I’m not worth flirting with?” It’s meant as a joke but Sanji stuns you with his next words.

“No, rather, I suspect Luffy wants you all to himself.”

To that, your heart skips a beat, and Sanji clearly catches it, not bothering to hide his amusement.

“He won’t say it, probably hasn’t realized it yet, but I can tell. And of course, realistically it doesn’t stop me from appreciating you.” The statement is accented with a chuckle. “But I’m just trying to be considerate.”

Your mouth opens then closes, then you quickly change the subject.

“The food’s burning.”

Sanji doesn’t even turn to look.

“Fat chance.”

Sanji doesn’t mess up meals. You stick your tongue out at him instead, gather up your pitcher and leave the room, and he starts to whistle, as he finishes the rest of the meal and you contend with your own confusing feelings.

[liquorflower]

𝐥’𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞 𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐫𝐞 — 𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢

summary: the job needs to be done, the important thing right now is finishing him, but, what can you do when he’s the one who’s going to make you finish, but in the other way?

wc: 2.2k

cw: mentions of acts of terr0r1sm, edging, manhandling, creampie, reference to le charme discret de la bourgeoisie and gunplay (not in the sex) if u squint, age gap kento’s in his late 30’s and reader in early 20’s)

a/n: well, i hope you enjoy. likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated thank you

it was you, again. kento wonders if you’re not tired of making this thing over and over, because your actions just demonstrate you’re not capable of killing even a miserable cockroach. all those failed attempts at homemade bombs and now, having the audacity to enter his consulate were the straw that broke the camel’s back. first, strange events that made it impossible to have dinner with their peers and now this.

he had to teach you a lesson didn’t he?

and gazing how your hands tremble, he knew by other hand about how other revolutionaries didn’t hesitate to shoot at their oppressors. but your heart is racing, increasing euphoria you can’t even explain yourself and you don’t seem capable of pulling the trigger.

but he can play that same game.

there’s gun under the pillow of his refined bed, in his opulent room, scenario that holds the future crime scene of his murder if he doesn't play his cards right. strangely enough, he’s not scared at all, could be your ragged clothes (that’s the respective way to call that hippie fashion) or the beauty you possess that makes him have some sort of compassion for you.

“does this have any use, dear?” he wanders through the room, trying to negotiate, persuade. as he does this, he diligently gets near the bed, having a seat. “how many times are we going to get through this, hmm?” his hand slides prudent and deliberately, as his gaze remains pierced in your eyes. they seem determined, but he can tell it’s just a stupid facade.

the revolver points at the direction he’s moving. you don’t say a word and only stare at him. you are pondering on why he can be so calm in this situation, you point a goddamn weapon and you can pull the trigger at any moment, and the only thing that will remain of him will be his brain scattered all over the place. but if you were concentrated, instead of paying attention to the turmoil of your thoughts, if you had payed attention you would’ve anticipated that he was going to pull out another pistol and also point at you.

shit, it was that obvious.

“i told you, sweetie. think about it. you’re still young,” he looks you over from head to toe, plotting a machiavellian plan, “beautiful…

you gulp.“don’t bullshit me.”

“hey, let’s take it easy. i’ll give you a chance. you can give me the gun, i’ll let you go and we’ll pretend none of this happened and we can go on with our lives as always… have you ever thought to go to college? bet you do. just leave this silly idealization of this perfect world. i get it, i once was young, but you can make the difference in other ways.” he persuades. both remaining stiff. the tension is close to the surface.

something convincing in his words resonates within your brain. for example, when was the last time you’ve eaten a decent meal or have slept in a comfy bed? all you can think about are the walls of the family stained in filth and shit. and everyone on top of each other for warmth — it wasn’t a place you could call home.

you don’t know what happened, but the next thing you know, is that you hand is giving him the gun, trembling and looking at the hollow and manly cheeks of kento. he’s wearing a robe. a slight blush heats your cheeks when you realize that.

“good choice.” he slightly bows his head, a cocky smile forms in his lips. “now, be a good girl and wait for me. i’ll…” he examines the weapon,“keep this thing downstairs. we don’t want some… collateral damages, do we?” and just like that, he leaves the room, not even bothering to see if you’d be capable of doing something else.

how did you falter like this? shit, shit, what you’re supposed to do now? now that you were so closer…

completely shocked, you take a seat on the bed. pleasant to lay your ass in, you think. as you grasp the velvety sheets, your palm notices a a cold surface.

he left the other gun neatly placed in the bed. a colt junior, smoothly laying there. not a big one, it is barely 5 inches long but perfect for self defense. is he stupid? why did he leave it there? your heart races, what it seemed to be like a lost opportunity, suddenly turns out again into a new hope.

so, you grab the gun and put it in your purse, thinking it is the perfect chance to shoot him dead.

sadly, destiny decided that it wasn't bound to be that way.

tiptoeing, trying to not make any noise, you manage to reach the door frame, your hand holds the weapon steady. even in this instant, you steered to be trapped again in your own net.

an enormous hand covers your mouth and the gasp gets encapsulated inside your throat.

was adrenaline, euphoria, rush, but you straightaway pulled out the gun out of your bag and pulled the trigger.

but nothing happened.

“bet you thought i left that thing there by mere coincidence, didn’t you?” he chuckled as he took you back to his room. you try to fight, make some loud noises behind that palm.

you are becoming quite annoying, and the next thing you know is that he put the barrel in your face and now that death seems closer than ever, you sob and warm tears run down your face.

the stupid bag.

“shit, how could i…” he mutters, managing to take your bag and continue pointing the revolver at you.

he empties it and only old papers and coins are inside — nothing that might seem like a threat . he just worried for nothing.

for you, now everything is lost. you’re going to end up dead and possible that not even the leader could notice that.

but he just doesn’t stop there.

“you must be hiding something.” he tightens the pressure of the barrel on your face and throws away the bag.

his other hand wanders down your waistline, palpating every part. unconsciously, you squeeze your thighs and a shiver runs down your spine, more when his hand is touching up each part of you until he reaches one of your breasts. he clasps it between his fingers.

you’re not wearing a single thing. despite an overwhelming urge to do something else, he keeps his examination, fingers going down, probing, checking every inch of skin to find any sort of irregularity — some other surface different from human soft skin.

however, he is doing something wrong and doesn’t trust the fabric of your clothes. sometimes other sorts of artefacts can be hidden from god knows where and can go unnoticed, and these matters, those little slips can affect and build tension with other countries, hence, need to be taken seriously.

with that in mind, his hand explored the flesh of your thighs, going under your clothes. you remain paralyzed. you’re not sure whether it’s because you are either in a panic or you know that trying to make something, even shouting, will cost you a bullet in the head. both are valid reasons to avoid causing more problems and gulping, you just let them explore all of your body.

the hem of your panties is the only thing that he can detect and decides to go even further. he examines, the palms of his hand are tender, soft — of course, he has never gotten to experience any kind of struggle or what hard work meant. despite acknowledging this, you shudder at the touch of his grip, almost wanting him to do something else.

and surely he does.

having notice that you are numb, blunted, he puts the weapon in one of the pockets of his robe and now the other hand joins to this inspection. a heat boils between your legs when his arms pull up your dress now exposing all of your body. hardened nipples and goosebumps are the new texture his palms grasp.

“ngh…” you sob

“calm down, sweetheart. I just need to know if you’re not hiding something else.” his digits go down, painfully slow, and with his tips, pulls down your panties. cheeks are flushed and you can’t help but feel the need of him wanting more of you.

“check all you want.” you’re voice whispered vaguely. now your will is completely broken. you can’t believe you’re betraying all you thought was for a greater good just to see how far he can go.

he throws you into bed. panties are stretched between your legs and he grabs you by the hips, just to have a clear view of your pussy. you bite your lip. scanning him, you can pay close attention to his imposing figure, thinking if this was worth it.

he grabs your wrists, making sure you’re not trying something, even though you have a main idea of what that might result. with that in mind, you bury your face in the soft mattress, not sure if he saw you biting your lip.

he rises up your trembling legs and grabs the cheek of your ass to open up and have a clear view of your cunt. you gulp, your pussy clenches and your clit pulsates. you let out a whimper, and just hearing that sound of yours, makes his cock twitch.

it is erotic see how it was only necessary to untie the knot of the robe to see that all this time he was naked, and now, pondering if all the time his cock was erected while he wandered every part of your body, makes the situation even more sultry.

“just see how slutty you are, huh? taking my cock that you’re not able to shoot that damn gun?” damn. when he slides in, you notice how wet you were and open your eyes big, not expecting to be that fast.

and you need to have in mind he just buried half of his shaft inside you. and he just leaves it there, because he takes his time to look at your body all placed in his bed, with your fingers latching onto the sheets.

“it hurts…” you whimper.

“you can can handle it, whore.” a shiver runs down your spine. you could’ve imagined at one point you would end up insulting at each other, but not like this, with your legs sprawled out and having a part of his cock fluttering and trapped tight within your walls.

“please… how can this not hurt anymore?” you beg, your drenched juices make him easier to slide even deeper, but now, hearing you whimper makes him wonder how sensitive you really are, that you are already falling apart with just a part of his length.

“well,” he moves slightly, and your eyes open wide again.

“fu-u-ck…” you pant and gulp.

“tsch, language.” the more words he says, the more he dives, open wide, tearing you. fucking feels good but pleasure has his price and though it brings a delightful pain, you can’t stand it, he needs to move or something… or else, you’ll fall apart.

“mmm, god it hurts, please,” you mewl, and best thing that comes to your mind, is to stroll your hips, to see if it can hit your sweet spot. “i want you to fuck me so badly, please… please…”

he lets out a malicious huff, and, without warning, he clasps errands of your hair and tightens his grip. it goes deeper and you whine. his hips start to collide with your ass. soft movements, the ones that are anticipating that he’s going to fasten his pace.

you breath heavily, your sloppy cunt opens up with every single thrust. “fuck, you’re taking it soo well.” he groans through his teeth,“bet you never thought we’re going to end up like this? you want me so bad, don’t you?” with every dirty assumption, you can’t help but moan.

he violently presses your head against the mattress and his cock delves in places you never thought it felt so good. the sticky sounds he makes each time he stretches your pussy is the only symphony that could be heard in the room.

“it feels good, isn’t it?” he teases between chattered teeth. his hips make obscene clap sounds.

“yes, yes…” your voice reverberates.

he pulls you up with the grip of your hair and with his hand, he grabs your neck and keeps now your neck is his grip to shoving his cock, almost disappearimg inside your clammy and loosen walls. his tip it’s circling around your depths jabbing with no mercy. he bites your cheek and every friction makes you loose your mind. “mhhh, i can’t take it anymore.” your back arches because you have already cum and your body twitches against his body.

“shhh, we’re not done yet.” it is painfully delicious how he feels your insides twitching around him and he fastens his movements.

“it feels so good…” the other orgasm made your sweet spot to become more sensitive and your pretty eyes flutter with every jab. your legs are shaking, you would like to close them right now, but most probably is that he won’t let you do it.

“shit…” he throws you back at the bed again, and still thrusting you faster, his body falls trembles but he manages to keep a normal pace. thick and warm ropes of his cum make your pussy palpitate and shake, cummining for the second time.

all of that experience makes you think seriously to phone your mom and tell her college was a good idea after all.

[bitethedevil]

When Raphael is standing around infront of Shar's temple, he's reciting a poem about a hunter & huntress, a lion and vultures. I'm curious if you have/have seen any theories on what this poem is about because I always felt like it wasn't about Tav/Durge, I am dying to know.

Raphael's poem: The Huntsman and the Huntress

Here’s the full poem:

”The lion stood watch in the blackest of night...

While vultures encircled, preparing their rite.

The huntsman and huntress, no match for the beast...

Come dawn of new light, did the predators feast.”

I had to rotate this question in my mind a couple of times because I had never put too much thought into it. I had always interpreted it as Raphael once again warning us about how big and scary Yurgir is, but that is not the case! I think you are absolutely right that it’s not about us.

Because I thought ‘hmm, is the lion and vultures Yurgir and the merregons, and are Raphael and us the huntsman and the huntress?”. It would not be unusual for Raphael to refer to himself as a hunter, given he fashions himself in a similar way in his diaries as a fisherman (a force from the outside disturbing the ecosystem, basically). He also tells Tav/Durge that they should not expect that they are the ‘greater hunter’, or something along those lines, when he talks to us.

However, for a game that always corrects pronouns to fit with the pronouns of the character, ‘huntress’ doesn’t make much sense. Tav/Durge could be a he or a they.

Instead, I think I have figured it out:

”The lion (Raphael) stood watch in the blackest of night...

While vultures (Tav/Durge and gang) encircled, preparing their rite.

The huntsman (Yurgir) and huntress (Nessa), no match for the beast (Raphael)...

Come dawn of new light, did the predators feast (Raphael + gang profits).”

Let’s pick this apart a bit further.

Line 1: This first line also further supports why I don’t buy the ‘Raphael is the fox’ from his first introductory poem. Dude refers to himself as cat here once again (R.I.P Raphael, you would have loved fursonas). It checks out. Raphael is the big scary kitty, just as he is in the first poem. He hides it but often hints at it throughout the story.

Line 2: We are the vultures, hungry to get something out of Raphael’s chosen prey, but we are not the main predator. This is because Raphael is full of himself and always presents himself as the biggest and the baddest. Whether we kill Yurgir or not, the ‘lion’ still gets what he wants. We don’t have beef with Yurgir personally, but that doesn’t matter because we are focused on getting something out of his death anyway, to help Astarion. We are finishing off what the lion started.

Line 3: This is peak Raphael. He does not give a flying fuck about killing the displacer beast, but Yurgir does, so Raphael mentions her too. Nessa, as gross as it is, is the only light in Yurgir’s life. It is peak deviling to mention her in the poem. Strip your clients of what they care about, so they are easier to deal with and suffer more.

Line 4: This directly mirrors his little rhyme you get if you accept his deal later ‘the master was slain in his own house, they dined on him both, the cat and the mouse’. It’s him pointing out that you are besties working together. What he is not saying though, is that he could kill you in a heartbeat if he so pleased, because he is the bigger predator.

Basically, it’s Raphael saying ‘hehe I’m gonna get ya’ to Yurgir.

It’s sort of hilarious, because it means that he’s standing there in the bushes muttering a poem that is meant for Yurgir. It’s so theatrical. Like when the villain openly monologues about their revenge and evil scheming 3 meters away from the hero in a play. He’s so silly.

(Thank you for the ask <3 Had to really think about this one)

[n1ghteeea]

UNIVERSITY RGB HCS BC THE TIME HAS COME FOR ME TO SHARE THEM ‼️‼️

Disclaimer: this only contains Egon, Ray and Peter as they are the ones who were in uni together (sorry Winston and Janine). Also this is long and self indulgent as hell.

I am NOT taking up the responsibility to say at what exact ages they got into uni, but let’s say that during their first year Peter is 18, Ray is 17 and Egon is 19.

Now, Ray is doing electrical engineering, Peter is doing engineering in hopes that it relates to trains (spoilers: it doesn’t, but he doesn’t find out until after his second year), Egon.. well Egon actually isn’t a student, but rather an instructor. I got this idea from an uncited wiki trivia point, and just ran with it. Maybe he was in uni instead of school bc he’s just that smart, maybe something else, idc really. He’s a physics instructor who is the same age as most of his students.

Ray and Peter are roommates and while it takes some time, eventually they bond and become best friends. And when I say best friends, I mean it to an almost unhealthy extent. In my head, Peter was always alone. Absent family, constantly moving around the country, unconventional interests, autism - I don’t think he ever really had friends. In the show we see him TRYING to be a charmer, but most of the time people do not buy his act, and I think the same thing happened in uni. He wanted friends, desperately wanted to fit in, but never really managed to. So when suddenly his roommate turned out to be a great guy who genuinely liked his company he immediately grew almost unhealthily attached. We won’t blame him.

Ray, on the other hand is liked by many due to his kind and charming personality, but doesn’t have many close friends, again, due to his unconventional interests and hyper behaviour towards them (ADHD). He isn’t that bothered by it, though. Good for him.

Now Egon is taking his unique position very seriously. He is no doubt popular at the uni - people have to be curious about this super young, clearly genius and handsome (canon in the show, not my words!) guy who works as an instructor. However, he does not engage in personal conversations, doesn’t seek out human connection or fun activities. He is focused on studying, working, getting experience and progressing in the field. He has many older mentors, but no friends of his age and is perfectly fine with that.

——————————————————————

So, first semester, first year. Both Ray and Peter take Egon’s physics class (though in different sections). Ray and Egon do not interact in class whatsoever, Ray is simply a good student: he studies well and does all his assignments on time (or mostly on time). They have no reason to talk and so do not know each other personally.

Peter, on the other hand, hates physics, finds it extremely boring and useless and makes a loud statement of not studying for it. It upsets Egon, who doesn’t want such morale to spread around his class, so he invites Peter to after-class talks.

This attitude pisses Peter off immensely because the audacity of this guy to tell him what to do and what to study for?? And from that point on Peter makes it his life’s mission to piss Egon off at any chance possible. He doesn’t bully him or set him up in front of people, he just acts like a dick and shows his disrespect in any way he can. Egon doesn’t like him back. This goes on for a while.

Now, aside from classes and physics, Egon also does parapsychological research on the side, as at the end of the day, that is his main area of interest. One day, as he goes into a lab to work on some experiments, he meets Ray who, very expectedly so, is also doing parapsychological research since that is his biggest interest, too. They bond over it and become lab partners and eventually friends.

I also want to specify that a moment when their relationship transforms from formal to friendly is one silly heist of sneaking into the patron section of the uni’s library at night to borrow a book necessary for their work. Adrenaline and oxcytocin do their job well and they go from “Mr. Spengler” and “Mr. Stantz” to “Egon” and “Ray” 🫶

⏩️ Fastforward to the second semester. Neither of the guys are taking Egon’s class anymore, but Ray and him are still working together and progressively becoming better pals by widening their conversation topics as well as hangout occasions. Peter still hates Egon’s guts, luckily they don’t have to meet too often. At least until one day.

That day electricity malfunctions in Egon’s room right when he needs to mark his students’ assignments. As usual, he does it late at night when the library is already closed. Ray, as a good friend, offers him a spot in his and Peter’s room to work which Egon accepts, becoming a horrible surprise to the latter. After spending about fifteen minutes trying to get a reaction out of Spengler with no visible result Peter notices just how exhausted the guy is and for the first time it really hits him that surprise!! Egon is human too. He even grows slightly worried, after all, he doesn’t want the dude to pass out in their living room. They don’t begin interacting more after that, but Peter as if slightly cuts back on the teasing. But he still calls him “Spengs” out of disrespect.

⏩️ Fastforward to the second year. Egon and Ray hang out more, forcing Peter and Egon to interact, and good news! They now tolerate each other. And yes, they do go to “Egon” and “Peter” though “Spengs” and “Mr. Venkman” are still present, mostly to show annoyance and displeasure.

At some point in the semester Ray makes a new close friend named Max and that fact makes Peter crash the fuck out. Ray is super excited about this new guy who also studies engineering, loves comic books and horror movies, is super smart and funny. They hang out a lot and study together and whenever Ray comes back to the room he just cannot shut up about how good of a time he had. And Peter (need I remind you, lonely and self-conscious Peter who was always left behind by everyone in his life, including his father) watches, listens, gritting his teeth, until he just can’t anymore. Did I mention he has an unhealthy obsession with Ray?

He goes through a full mental breakdown, and they talk about it and partially resolve the situation (though the one-sided Max beef in Peter’s head continues, it’s hilarious).

⏩️ Christmas break comes and Ray announces that he is going to be leaving to spend it with his family in Bronx, and only here do we see just to what degree both of these people really are dependent on him.

Peter crashes out, yes, again. He’s lonely, he’s bored, his plans are ruined and he has no idea how he is going to survive three weeks alone in the dorm.

Egon takes it more calmly, he’s Egon, after all. He doesn’t complain or act upset, but two things happen. First, his work slows down significantly, and second, with his support system being gone he falls back into the unhealthy habit of overworking himself to a point of total exhaustion (speaking from experience here, it’s really hard to stay consistent with your healthy habits and routines when the person who is usually there to help you with them isn’t around).

To not die of boredom and exhaustion, Peter and Egon organise hangouts, sometimes sitting in the library and trying to get work done, sometimes watching TV or getting lunch together. Their relationship improves significantly during that time, and Ray is very happy to see that upon arrival.

Not much to say from that point on. All three of them become best friends, Peter switches his concentration to psychology, they rent an apartment together and go on with their academic lives. If I had to somehow describe their relationship I’d say they are a qpr. Not in love whatsoever, but still very emotionally intimate, physically affectionate and are the most important people to each other.

Also they don’t know it yet, but the moment they met each other they met the rest of their lives 🫶

[carlarosenakilah]

I'm taking a break from The Osix Family and Wilted Ivory

Hi, you've read that right. I'll proceed to go into detail undercut

Warning that the following will be containing very sensitive topics such as su***idal thoughts, mental health issues, and whatever the fuck I went through to get me here and I don't know how to describe nor name them but overall its not pretty.

Getting straight to the point- im drained. I'm in a horrible place right now and I need to take a step back before it might escalate into something worse.

The Osix Family is always something that I will forever dedicate to. It has comforted me, carried me, and saved me from killing myself three years ago.

I asked myself, "If I'm not here, who will tell the story of The Osix Family?"

That made me stay alive, and im greatful for that because if not, I wouldn't have been where I am today standing with the coolest people I have ever met and my amazing partner in crime @alexusespido-dod.

I love Wilted Ivory too, and that's where it gets tricky.

My only plan for Wilted Ivory is to simply tell a story about growth expressed as a musical au. Hence why the art is so simple– not just to match the original Casino Cups style, but just to tell a story that I hope would inspire and comfort others. Of course, I'm happy it gained lota of love.

The Osix Family though is a different story.

Like I said, it means a lot to me, so I put so much time and energy into this series. I sacrifice time that could've been used to study for the next exam, but instead im working on the next few panels or planning the music and etc. Blood sweat and tears (literally) into making sure the art looks good, story is properly conveyed, scenes carefully picked. Even if it gained me bad scores in my exams that made me stress over about, in the end it was worth it to me. I didn't care if I'd be sick an unable to move, as long as I could at least think about it, then I would be happy.

Episode 3 was my worst.

I overworked myself for that episode. I was always in front of my tablet, I never moved out of my seat, I was just there, working on it even if it was 1 in the morning and that I should be sleeping. I told myself: "Everything will pay off! Sure you're in so much pain right now, but eventually it will all pay off! Episode 3 is looking good and interesting! This will FINALLY gain the audience and love the story deserves!"

I was proud.

Until I wasn't.

Reality hit me like a saw. The moment the episode was released I was hopeful. But nothing happened. It was all the same.

And it just hurt how something as simple as Wilted Ivory can easily gain attention and love because it was Cuphead related something well known. Meanwhile, The Osix Family–despite everything–is just barely seen.

I started to doubt myself. To question myself. Was I not doing enough. What more can I do. What should I do. Am I not good enough?

Is the story just not good enough?

That broke me. I began to have thoughts I shouldn't have. I wanted to end it all. I wanted to quit and disappear from the world. Because what was the point in pouring so much love into something only for it to dismissed.

Its not like I simply began having these thoughts.

I've had them over and over again.

As much as I hated involving him, my partner, Alex, had to deal with the many times I nearly ended it. To the point where even if he was in school, he'd go out of his way to stop me, I still feel guilty, even if he said it was fine.

I don't understand myself anymore.

Why do I even have such an attachment to this series? Its just a stupid silly series for funsies isn't it? Why does my life to depend on it?

Unfortunately, it just does.

It sucks. Pushing away my needs for the sake of this passion, only for it to just not go as I hoped it would go. Did I mention I'm also losing followers on the osix family blog? Thats so silly and coquette.

I'm so sorry if im coming off as guilt-trippy, please I don't want it to sound that way, I just want to express how deeply troubled I am because to me it actually DOES HURT.

I envy people who couldn't give a flying fuck about whether or not their stuff goes famous or gets love, I don't even understand why I am so dependent or hungry on whatever attention it gets. I hate that im like this. I want to be free from it but I just crave it.

So, for the sake of my mental health and whatever is left of my sanity, im taking a break, for good.

I will not be updating The Osix Family or Wilted Ivory at this very moment. For how long? It depends on how fucked up I have actually turned out to be today.

I might still post, keyword: MIGHT, its not any update but to just simply draw for myself, but the chances of me posting anything is horribly low.

I'm going to focus on myself, my needs, and whatever makes me happy or have fun with.

To those who supported The Osix Family or even bothered to check it out: Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.

It means a lot to me, you have NO idea. Every single like, reblog, comment, hype or even the silliest amounts of theories or thoughts, they make me so happy, it actually heals me.

I can't remember names im sorry, but there was a time someone expressed how they were invested in the lore and loved the world building, it really made my day. Or when someone pointed out some small details on my waiting in a miracle animatic, it warmed my heart.

I have troubles expressing it, but im so, SO greatful.

Especially when some of my mutuals started making OCS FOR THE SERIES?? Like– it felt like a HUGE compliment.

I cant believe im tearing up as im typing this haha im so stupid lmao, but

Thank you. A lot.

And to those who weren't really into The Osix Family, its okay, don't feel bad, sometimes things are just not our cup of tea, I just needed to express my grief, cause honestly bottling it up isn't going to end well for me (and it really didn't multiple times).

I apologize for any false hope or let down your hype as Wilted Ivory was just starting and The Osix Family was finally coming back– but this treatment is overwhelming me that I need to take a step back.

That's all for now.

Thank you for... actually reading, you listening means a lot to me too.

Goodbye.

[thehollowwriter]

RAAAH THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS AHSJDJD. I did actually make a post a while back discussing how mysgony and favouritism towards men is especially blatant when it comes to parents. Mr and Mrs Rosehearts, Amity's parents (thank you for that btw I'm tired of Mr Blight being so babied), and even Vi and Silco from Arcane (Vi is not a mom and she and Silco aren't together obviously, but Vi is parentified and demonised as an abusive monster while Silco is regarded as the "best father in animated history")

Mrs Rosehearts is terrible of course, but it's very telling when fans take it and run and suddenly not only is she controlling, now she's homophobic and transphobic and racist even though there is 0 indication of that. Even I fell into this trap in the past, and looking back on it it's nothing but mysgony.

If Mr and Mrs Rosehearts were to trade places, it's very likely that, even though the fandom would still hate him, he would be given mountains of backstory and characterisation that would make him more sympathetic and human. In reality he, like you said, is either ignored or automatically assumed to be a victim too even though his silence and lack of action is also abuse (And, at least in my experience, that makes him almost worse than Mrs Rosehearts)

We barely know anything about Azul's bio dad, and though some people imagine him to be abusive, there's a lot of grace given to his character. If we were to make him Azul's bio mom instead, well, there would be a lot of character bashing and hatred and probably "I think Azul's bio mom is the reason he hates himself actually!" type of shit

Like op says, that it's fairly common to find some creators writing/drawing/etc mainly Mrs Rosehearts getting what she "deserves" by depicting her being hit by car, attacked, mutilated, murdered, having her life ruined, etc. This isn't necessarily bad on it's own, but it's the intense pleasure people get from it feels less like "justice" and more of a reminder of how much people subconsciously love watching female characters suffer even if it's for the most minor of things. It's uncomfortable. It's scary.

I know for a fact if she was a man it would just be "Oh silly Mister Rosehearts you need to go to therapy so you can stop traumatising your son lol" maybe "You need to be bonked on the head/beat up a bit and sent to therapy" at worst. (I'm an avid Rollo defender but even though people are fairly terrible to him, he still gets the "poor guy needs therapy" treatment and is not treated with anywhere near as much vitriol as Mrs Rosehearts)

Lilia, as much as I love him, isn't the best most perfect father in the whole wide world. He loves children deeply of course but he is also unintentionally neglectful and sometimes blind to their struggles (*gestures to book 7*) This is however simply brushed over and ignored (in fact it's treated more like "just silly fae family things") and it's a shame because it really does feel like something that's important to acknowledge.

There's also the problem of side characters who appear in events or in important story moments. Skully? Neige? Baul? Knight of Dawn? Tons of fanart, fanfic, theories, analysis, etc. So much appreciation for their designs, how they're written/their story overall, and so on, even if their appearances are brief. (*cough there's also the fact that Baul's wife gets tossed aside to ship him with Lilia and I've read too many fics where he's just cheating on her and it's just "Eh I didn't love her that much anyway" like come on :/)

But then we get to Najma (though she's a poc girl so she's ignored most of the time)... and Meleanor... and Dilla... hell, even Epel's grandmother, and it's "mommy" and art of them in skimpy clothes that barely hide anything (and in Najma's case from some art I've seen... incredibly racist "hot bellydancer" art) and "Milf! Milf! Milf!" "Ohhh her booobs..." which sure the other side characters got too... but the difference is that isn't *all* they got. People literally fell in love with a MOB STUDENT (Scarabia Student B iirc) and gave him all kinds of lore and characterisation, but these ladies barely get anything.

Yes there is some analysis mainly with Meleanor (but c'mon she's the most popular male twst characters' mom so :/) but there still isn't... much. Nobody cares unless it's turned into something hot and alluring. Nobody has much to say apart from lustful comments about their bodies.

Anyways yeah that's my rant for the day ansnsnsnddndnfn

It really is quite noticeable that when the male characters in TWST (even the one-off ones) do somethings fucked up that there's at least 10 people writing essays on how their pookie is So Much More Complex than that vs a woman being even mentioned negatively by a male character and therefore we get treated to people drawing her "getting what she deserves" and calling her a bitch.

[friedchops]

Boy Next Door -

Satoru x Reader, 18+ MDNI, cheating, infidelity, lonely housewife x boy next door, cougar x cub, mommy/baby boy dynamics kinda?, reader is older, fem!reader. A/N the reader is a bit of a southern belle

Chapter 1?

The morning sun spills golden light across the quiet street as you stand at the door, watching your husband pull out of the driveway. You kissed him on the cheek as a goodbye, the same way you always do—light, practiced, distant. He barely looked at you, barely muttered a word before driving off to whatever keeps him too busy to notice you anymore. You sigh softly, rinsing your hands off in the sink to wash away the sticky remnants of sugar and lemon juice, drying them on your apron. But then something catches your eye through the window.

A jogger, gliding down the street with effortless ease.

White hair. Eyes as blue as the summer sky. And—oh. Oh.

He’s shirtless.

The breath leaves your lungs in a slow, silent exhale as your gaze follows the lean, defined lines of his torso, the way his muscles flex with each stride. He’s young—too young, probably—but that doesn’t stop the warmth from curling low in your stomach, something you haven’t felt in… goodness, how long?

He moves with an easy, effortless grace, muscles shifting beneath sun-kissed skin, his face half-hidden beneath a mess of white hair. You don’t mean to stare, but—well, you are only human.

“What is he doing?” You mutter under your breath, shaking your head. Fool. Doesn’t he know it’s hot outside? The kind of heat that makes the air shimmer and your skin feel like it’s burning the moment you step outside. Honestly, you could probably fry an egg on the sidewalk.

But as much as you want to admire the way his muscles move under the light, you’re too busy being concerned. Does he even realize how dangerous it is to be out in this heat, shirtless, all sweaty? The sight of him is practically a warning sign for dehydration.

It’s ridiculous—there’s no need to look like that for a jog. You bite your lip, a motherly instinct kicking in that has you more worried about his health than the way his body glistens under the sun.

You lean your hip against the counter, still absently wiping your hands as you watch him run down the street, footsteps pounding with every stride.

And then—he looks up.

You’re caught.

But instead of looking away, he grins—wide, easy, utterly unashamed—and lifts a hand in greeting.

He’s waving at you.

A flash of heat rushes to your cheeks. You haven’t felt seen in so long that it nearly knocks the breath out of you. You’ve been doing this same routine every day for the past fifteen years, ever since you were married off to a man who barely looks at you unless it’s to sigh about something. And here’s this young man, casually passing by and acknowledging your existence like it matters.

It’s been so long since you’ve had anyone truly notice you, like you’re not just a housewife with a fading apron and a tired smile. Your husband always says you’re too overbearing, too needy, always fussing over every little thing, especially with him. He can’t even stand when you try to plan meals or offer to help with anything, like your attention is a burden. It’s not that you want to be overwhelming. You just—well, you wish someone would care enough to notice. To ask how your day’s been. Maybe it’s silly, but the thought of someone actually looking at you, as if you were more than just the woman who makes his coffee or irons his shirts, stirs something in your chest.

You blink, your heart thumping in your chest as you awkwardly wave back, unsure of what to do with the sudden surge of emotion. But just as quickly, you find your hand falling to the curtain, fingers gripping it and pulling it shut with a soft tug.

You’re embarrassed. It’s silly. You shouldn’t feel this flustered over a simple wave from a stranger, but there it is—this deep, sudden awareness of just how little human interaction you’ve had lately. You shut the curtains, hoping the coolness of the room will calm you, but the warmth in your chest doesn’t go away.

The next time you see him, it’s deliberate. You’re outside, pretending to tend to the porch plants, a pitcher of hand-squeezed lemonade sweating on the table. You don’t have to wait long.

“Hey!” His voice is bright, teasing as he jogs up, all long limbs and glowing skin. He leans against your fence without an ounce of hesitation, flashing that same grin.

You clear your throat, offering a polite smile. “You look like you could use somethin’ cold to drink, sugar.”

“Ma’am, you might just be my new favorite person,” he says, his grin stretches wider, like you’ve just given him the best news all day.

You laugh softly, pouring a glass and stepping forward to hand it to him. His fingers brush yours—just barely, but enough that you feel the heat of his skin.

“You always make lemonade for strangers, or am I special?”

You laugh, surprising yourself. “Depends. Do you always charm women on their porches, or am I special?”

His eyes flicker with amusement, like he’s caught a particularly fun challenge. “Oh, I like you,” he muses, reaching for the offered glass. “Satoru, by the way.”

You already figured he’d have a name that suits him. Something playful. A little too bold.

“Well, Satoru, try not to drop dead from heatstroke out here.”

He hums in satisfaction as he sips, then pauses—too close now, leaning just enough to make you notice. His nose nearly brushes your hair before he inhales, long and

“You smell good.”

The words are too casual, too honest. You freeze, pulse kicking up. He doesn’t move away.

“Your husband around?” he asks next, and it’s so smooth, so effortlessly curious, that you almost don’t hear the underlying note of something else.

“At work,” you say, unaware of the way his gaze lingers.

“Kids?”

You shake your head. His grin softens, something knowing in his expression.

“Guess that means you’ve got a lot of free time.”

And just like that, you realize—this boy, this charming, ridiculous man, doesn’t know boundaries at all.

As the days turn into weeks, Satoru finds himself growing increasingly comfortable in your presence. He lounges on your couch, his muscular frame taking up far more space than he should, as you both watch television together. His hand often finds its way to your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze or a playful pat, always with the excuse that it's just his cultural norm.

One evening, as a particularly intense scene plays out on the screen, Satoru suddenly winces, rubbing his temples.

“Migraine," he grunts, his voice strained with pain. Without waiting for an invitation, he nestles his head into your soft, pillowy breasts, sighing in relief as he feels their comforting warmth envelop him.

“Poor, baby,” you murmur, gently rubbing his scalp to soothe his ‘headache.’ Having no kids and an absent husband means a lot of love to give, and who better to share that with than a man new to southern hospitality?

"Mmm, thank you, y/n," he murmurs, his voice muffled by your chest. "You're so kind to let me rest here." He nuzzles deeper, his lips lightly grazing your skin as he seeks solace in your nurturing embrace. His hands come up to rest on your hips, gripping them gently as he presses himself closer, taking advantage of your natural inclination to care for others.

“Oh,” you gasp as you feel him tuck his nose into your neck and smelling your perfume. This is so far from being appropriate, you’re old enough to be his mother for crying out loud.

And then, he presses a gentle kiss to your throat, humming softly as he presses his weight against you.

“What are you doing,” you ask, trying to keep the shakiness out of your voice as Satoru's hands roam over your curves, caressing and squeezing the soft, womanly figure of your body. He takes advantage of the instinctive tilt of your head, his lips and teeth and tongue exploring the column of your neck with a newfound hunger. A low, appreciative groan rumbles in his chest as he inhales your scent, feeling your body melt against his own.

"It's just a custom where I'm from," he lies, his breath hot against your skin. "Showing affection and appreciation for the ones we care about." He places another kiss, his lips lingering a moment longer this time. His hands on your hips tighten slightly, pulling you a little closer as he loses himself in the comfort and warmth of your embrace. You’re so fucking soft, so warm, so loving.

He tilts his head to look up at you, his blue eyes dark and smoldering with unspoken emotions. Slowly, almost hesitantly, he raises a hand to cover yours on his scalp, guiding it to the back of his neck. His skin is warm and slightly damp from the heat, the dampness seeping through the thin fabric of his shirt.

"You have such a gentle touch," he whispers, his gaze locked with yours. "And such a kind heart. I feel lucky to have you as my neighbor, y/n."

As he speaks, his other hand begins to wander, his fingers tracing idle patterns on the smooth skin of your thigh. The touch is feather-light, almost teasing, but it sends a shiver of anticipation down your spine.

“Sweetheart, we don’t do things like this head, okay?” You murmur softly, moving the hair out of his face, trying to ignore the throb between your legs.

“It hurts,” he whines into your neck, slipping between your legs to rock his aching cock against the fabric of your skirt. “Can you make it go away? Please?”

“Baby,” you gasp, trying to catch your breath while he rocks against you, his brows knitted together. “We can’t do this, I’m married.”

"I know I'm new to all this, but I'm a fast learner," he whispers, his breath hot and heavy against your ear. "And right now, my sweet southern belle, I'm feeling a little… lost." He punctuates his words with a roll of his hips, pressing the growing evidence of his arousal against the curve of your ass. "Tell me, beautiful, how do you usually handle such situations down here in the South?"

[4linos]

[girl dad!changbin soft thoughts]

wc: 575. part 3/8. fluff.

- when your little one wakes up in the middle of the night, changbin is there with the softest, most relaxing voice. he’ll rock her back to sleep while singing a lullaby or murmuring sweet words in her ear. there’s something tender about the way he talks to her, almost as if he's trying to reassure both of them. he enjoys the quiet moment of holding her in his arms while the rest of the world sleeps.

- changbin loves carrying your baby in a baby carrier. whether you’re running errands or just walking around the house, your baby is peacefully snoozing or looking up at him with wide, curious eyes. he’ll often kiss her little forehead or make funny faces to make her smile, and the two of them share quiet, precious moments like that, hands-free but totally connected.

- when your daughter is learning to walk, changbin is always standing a few steps away, arms spread and ready to catch her if she stumbles. every step she takes, he cheers, clapping his hands and saying, "that’s my girl! you did it!" he’s as proud as she is, and it's obvious how much he loves seeing her grow.

- changbin’s the one who wakes her up in the morning, and instead of rushing her out of bed, he spends a few extra minutes cuddling with her. he whispers sweet things like "good morning, my beautiful girl," and they snuggle for a few minutes before getting ready for the day. even when he's in a hurry, he always makes time for her special morning moments.

- whether it's a game of hide-and-seek, building pillow forts, or watching your daughter play pretend, you and changbin often sit on the floor with her, completely immersed in her world. changbin is laughing as he pretends to be the "evil monster" and you are the "superhero" chasing him through the home. your daughter is giggling the entire time, and you and changbin exchange looks; this is what makes life so full.

- on lazy afternoons, the three of you snuggle up for nap time. your daughter is in between you both, and changbin wraps his arms around both of you as you all drift off for a rest. it’s not a long nap, but it's a peaceful one. you feel your daughter’s tiny breath against your chest and changbin’s warmth beside you, and for a moment, the world feels perfectly still.

- when you all go out to run errands, changbin always makes sure your daughter is entertained. he makes even the most mundane activities enjoyable, like pointing out animals at the pet store or pretending to race through the aisles. he’s the one making her laugh at the checkout line with his silly faces, and you adore how he's always in his element with her.

- changbin takes fitness seriously, but he also knows how to make it fun for your daughter. sometimes you see them doing "exercises" together, with her lifting tiny weights while he does push-ups and pretending to be the "coach," advising him on how to make the perfect squat. she has a blast, and he is proud of her whenever she exclaims, "i’m strong like daddy!"

- after a long day, there is usually a peaceful moment when everything slows down. changbin will gently rock your daughter to sleep while singing a song under his breath, and you will watch them both, thinking how lucky you are to share these precious, simple moments.

//

masterlist.

[overb]

roght guys i am making a fic INCLUDING good parents jack & janet and please please im begging someone to proof read n discuss fics w !! beta reader PLEASSEEEE come to me i will b sweet i will b kind we will b best friends!

(gift of an extract from the current fic im writing instead of updating my other ones:

“She settles them in a corner, grabbing a chair for Tim to sit on. He’s kicking his feet against the legs of the chairs when she crouches in front of him. “Sorry you had to deal with Elenor again, baby.”

Tim groans, his matching smile growing genuine. “She says everything in these… innuendos that she thinks I don’t understand.”

Janet’s hand settles on one of his dress shoes, ceasing the kicking. “I know. Just be happy you’re getting the gossip and not stood with your father talking business.”

She grows silent for a second, absentmindedly fiddling with the laces of his shoes. “I have something I want to talk to you about.”

“If it’s about the seafood on the menu,” Tim says, holding his hands up in surrender, “I haven’t touched it.”

“The what?” Janet comes back to herself, her lips tugging down. She drops Tim’s shoelace, settling back in her crouch. The fact she can move so comfortably in her heels will always impress him. “No, baby, that’s not it. I didn’t realise there was— I’ll talk to your father about that. I need to ask for a favour. A mission.”

“Of course.” Tim nods, leaning forwards. His first charity events were full of missions, Tim toddling around to greet his ‘targets’. If he completed them all, Jack would take him for ice cream on the way home. Even though the missions dwindled, the ice cream never would. “What’s up?”

“Have you noticed the boy?— No, that’s silly.” She smiles at Tim, a real, soft smile. “Of course you have. Will you go talk to him? If he’s going to keep sneaking into our events, he needs to have some more manners. And a nicer suit.” )