#thank u anon u have shed light for me

[rueclfer]

Reverse comfort reader taking care of Touya plsplsplsplspls 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

I just had the amazing thought of it he's being overly cocky during winter "I don't need a scarf I have a fire quirk!" And the next days he's curled in bed with a fever and sore throat and there's a ton of I told you so's

Not even a fic if u don't feel like it maybe a smau but I think it'd be super funny 😭

🫐 Anon

sick touya supreme bc he can just lay there, be cute n not speak <3

sweat it out // touya todoroki

"What the hell are you wearing?" You exclaim after opening your front door.

"What?" He looks down at his attire. "What happened to hi, hello? A 'thank you for bringing me my package that I stupidly got delivered to your apartment?' Why don't we start there?" He huffs, stepping into your apartment, setting your package down on your kitchen counter.

It had been nothing but near freezing temperatures for the past few weeks- so cold that you had to layer up inside your own apartment to prevent your electric bill from skyrocketing.

"Hi hello, my sweet boyfriend." You roll your eyes. "Do you seriously need me to mommy you right now and scold you for not wearing a fucking jacket out in this weather? Are we not grown adults?" You drops the blanket draped over your shoulders and go over to rub his arms for the thermal friction. "Like you're seriously just wearing this long sleeve? It's freezing if you haven't noticed."

He raises his hand up to your face and snaps a flame into place in between his index and thumb. "You forget I run warm."

"Yeah okay, Mister. I-have-a-fire-quirk. How is that going to help you if it starts raining?"

He pulls you into his chest, letting his body heat transfer into your own, instantly warming you and most importantly for him, shutting you up.

You release a deep exhale in content. "Idiot. You just should stay. For the Winter. Just live here with me for a few months and never leave." You rub your face into his chest, savoring the warmth.

"I think we'd end up killing each other before Spring comes." He chuckles into your hair.

"I'll just chain you to the bed and duct tape your mouth close." You smirk up at him. "Everyone's happy."

"Don't threaten me with a good time, sweetheart." He pulls back, reaching out to tousle your hair. "But I gotta run. Told Shigs I'd be quick."

"Wait! Let me find you a sweater and an umbrella." You frantically look around your living room for any piece of clothing that you had previously stolen from him.

"No need." He bends down and quickly press his lips against yours, letting them linger for a few seconds before pulling away. "I have to go. I checked earlier and it's not going to rain and I'm not cold either. You on the other hand, worry about staying warm."

"It definitely is going to rain, Touya. I can smell it." You huff. "You'll get sick."

"What, is that a new quirk development or something? Weirdo." He lightly pinches your cheeks before slipping his shoes back on. "Also, I have a strong immune system."

"Seriously, let me find you an umbrella at the very least." You rummage around the coat rack for something that could fit him or a spare umbrella.

"Nope, no time. See you tomorrow, yeah?" He calls out.

"I guess." You mutter in defeat as you watch him slip out your door.

"Idiot." You sigh under your breath once the door clicks close.

-

"I'm here!" You call out after stepping into Touya's apartment, using the spare he lent you after locking himself out multiple times.

You kick off your shoes and shed off some layers, draping your jacket, and scarf over his couch before making your way to his bedroom.

"Knock knock." You say as you gently crack the door open, revealing near pitch darkness with sliver of natural light peeking in from the blinds.

You make your way over to the dark lump of mass of blankets on the bed, kicking aside used tissue paper that were thrown onto the ground before kneeling down next to the bed.

"Hello, my sweet stupid boy." You coo, slowly stroking the tuft of dark hair peeking out from the comforter.

"Don't be mean to me." The nasally voice muffled from under the covers. "Princess treatment today, got it?"

Touya finally pokes his head out from under the covers. It may have been dark, but you could still make out his puffy bloodshot eyes, dry cracked lips and flushed cheeks.

"I'll say it this one time then and then I'll give you the best princess treatment, okay?" You lean in close, letting your lips lightly graze the shell of his ear. "I fucking told you so." You whisper.

He groans, retreating back under the covers.

"Did you hear me? Okay maybe one more time." You giggle, trying to rip the covers off from over his head. "I told you so. It rained and it rained hard. Not ideal for that fire quirk of yours, huh? I fucking told you so."

"Fuck off." He groans once more. "One more time and I'm kicking your ass out."

"As if." You successfully tug the covers down to his chin, placing the back of your hand on his forehead. "You don't even have to energy to, you poor thing."

"Am I gonna make it?" He gazes up at you with his tired bloodshot eyes.

"Looks like you got a fever." You push away the sweaty stray hairs sticking to his forehead. "But I think you'll survive."

"Damn." He wheeze out. "That's unfortunate."

"It is, but maybe next time you don't listen to me, you'll get lucky and it kills you."

"Let's hope for it, then." He smirks, bringing his hand up to rub his eyes. "Can I have a kiss?"

"Nope. I'm not trying to get sick, Touya." You smile at the neediness in his voice.

You move over to the blinds and slightly twist them open, letting in some of the dim daylight before tossing the haphazardly thrown stray tissues into the trash bin nearby.

"I don't give a fuck. I want a kiss."

"Too bad." You pay no mind to his piercing stare as you wander around his room, tidying the space as well as clearing off an area on his desk to set up the cough syrups and fever reducers that you brought over from your own medicine cabinet.

You come over to him with the stray glass on water sitting on his desk and a couple Tylenols in your palm.

"Sit up." You order, kneeling next to his bed again, holding out your palm.

"Pop a perc then I black out..." Touya mumbles to himself as he sits up, grabbing the pills from your palm and popping them in his mouth, following it with a large gulp of water.

In this moment, you couldn't help but notice how precious he looked with his old flannel pajama pants, dingy stretched out band tee, disheveled hair and tired eyes- a spitting image of his everyday look when you two were teenagers.

"...Fuckin' I'm blowing her back out." He continues, leaning over to press a kiss on your forehead. "Don't look at me like that unless you're trying to help me sweat out this fever."

Your own face heats up. "The fuck were you saying earlier?" You chuckle, brushing off the insinuating comment and setting the empty glass on his nightstand.

"I don't know. Nothing." He coughs, laying back down, pulling the covers up to his chin. "I think the fever dream-hallucination is hitting hard. You should get in and cuddle before the sickness takes over and kills me."

You roll your eyes at the dramatics, nudging him to scoot over before climbing in under the covers with him, which felt like you had just stepped into a furnace.

He groans in content, wrapping his arms around your body and pulling you in as close as he could.

"Can't cuddle for too long okay? I'm going to have to leave and make you some food soon." You mutter into his chest, letting your hand run up and down his back.

"No." He whines. "Just stay like this and I'll get better. I promise."

"That's not how that works." You mutter.

"Maybe if you give me a kiss instead? I think that'll 100 percent make me feel better." He pulls away, inching down towards you with puckered lips.

You stuck your hand out against his mouth, pushing it away. "I can't get sick, Touya. I know your ass will not know how to take care of me."

"You love hurting my feelings." He huffs.

"Well? Who put themselves in this situation. I told you, didn't I?"

"Shush." He mumbles, letting himself close his eyes and rest his chin on top of your head. "You didn't tell me shit."

You let out a sigh and let yourself close your eyes for a moment as well, letting your deep inhale and exhales sync in unison. Maybe having this every night wouldn't be too bad. Sure you two would tear each other apart if you had to spend every waking moment together in the same home, but for moments like these, you wouldn't mind it. Your eyes pop open the moment you feel the deep vibrations of his snores again your body, now realizing that you couldn't dare move from this position, risking waking him.

Just an hour. You'll only give yourself an hour.

-

touya tag: @moonchild701

[nycreid]

could you do how popstar!reader and spencer met and like the early days of them when they were talking but not fully dating quite yet. like reader being really down bad and obsessed with him and writing about him all the time. pleaseeeeee i love the popstar au xx

Smitten

spencer reid x fem!popstar!reader

hiii anon!!! tysm for ur request and i’m sorry this is late 😞😞

Y/N knew it was the honeymoon stage but her cheeks hurt from smiling and she couldn’t help but pick up her pen and start writing about Spencer, love songs about Spencer to be specific. The days of sad songs are in her past now as Spencer sheds a new light on love for her.

They have been prancing around each other for a few weeks, the words “Can I be your boyfriend?” dancing on Spencer’s tongue and Y/N falling smitten each day with him.

The way the light reflected off his perfect sculpted cheekbones, oh how his hair messily falls perfectly, and how he felt comfortable rambling about anything and everything to her and her always listening. So, of course Y/N had to write a song about him.

“You the medication when I'm feeling anxious

That's the kind of shit I like

Teach me how to love you

I'm not learning what ain't right

I want you to keep speaking my love language.”

Was it a little direct? Maybe, but writing her feelings was the best way to let them out. Y/N releases the song on a hot day in July, the perfect song to blast on the radio on a summer road trip.

Spencer rarely drives but on the way to the BAU, he decides to turn on the radio, something pulling him to (specifically the pop radio), and he hears a light tune and your voice running on the track.

“Hm, he hasn’t heard this one before? Is this new?” Spencer thought, he can’t help but have a smile grow on his face as he listens to the song, infatuated with your voice and cheeks warm as he listens to the lyrics.

Spencer can’t help but dial your number first thing as he pulls into the parking lot and gives you a call, and you immediately answer.

“Hey, I just heard your new song? It’s- um, it’s good!” Spencer manages to sputter out while his cheeks are still a bit flushed, was this whole thing a sign for him to wake up and ask her to be official?

“Oh hey Spencer! Thank you, I’m glad you like it.” Y/N says with a teasing smile that Spencer can practically hear over the phone.

Spencer is already planning the date where he’s asking you to be his girlfriend, “Um, wanna grab dinner with me this weekend?” He mentally face palms himself for being too direct. “Sorry- was that too forward?”

Y/N chuckles, “I would love to go to dinner with you, and no it wasn’t.” Y/N smiles, “I like a man who’s forward.”

—

idk how to feel abt this i hope u enjoy anon!!! x pls send in more popstar!reader requests🙏

song is love language by ariana grande 💋

[mangostarjam]

fuji!! hope you've been doing ok lately :)) make sure to give yourself breaks when needed! treat urself with kindness and grace pls, remember you deserve it even when you think you don't <33

i came by to share my most recent 3am smutty brain rot hehe ;)))

key word: tenting. i'd imagine the kaiju suits have some sort of compressive technology to combat this issue, but yknow what probably doesn't?

(answer: vice captain's hoshina's sweatpants. its something you take unfortunate --or fortunate lmao-- notice of during one of ur training sessions when he decides to shed that half-jumper of his. WHICH BTW!! i fully believe he cut the bottom half off bc he likes taking it off when training, but cant be bothered to remove the whole thing LOL)

pre-relationship!hoshina is watching shortie!reader train and give guidance to the recruits and yknow, watching you fight gets him going and really, he didn't mean to pop one then and there but could anyone blame him when you look absolutely stunning beating the sht outa the recruits?? (i'm 5'1". this is self-indulgence hehe)

okieee love u stay hydrated, make sure to at least eat snackies if not meals, byee <33

- 🧸

hiiiiii friend thank you for thinking of me!! i am trying to take care of myself and thankfully august is almost over so i should be better soon!

i'm ngl this did make me wonder about their suits and uniforms HAHA but i am very pro self indulgence with writing!! gray sweatpants and tenting can absolutely be the death of me and while the uniform pants aren't the same thing, they're close enough imo!! or maybe i just think soshiro's hot in anything (also true let's be real)

this is like 900ish words and not smutty (sorry) but i did have fun thinking about a shortie!reader kicking ass!! love u teddy bear anon thank you for dropping by and i hope you still like this!

You're having the time of your life.

A strange thought to have, maybe, while you're busy dodging strikes and dipping and twirling around your opponents. Being much smaller than most members of the Defense Force means you're used to being underestimated, though your platoon has had enough time with you by now that they should be used to training against you.

They aren't.

You laugh as you swoop past the fists aimed in your direction, caught up in the giddy adrenaline of being good.

Everything moves in slow motion. The rise of your opponent's chest, strands of hair catching the light, muscles tensing for a blow. The sharp red gaze watching your every move from by the fence. You take it all in and blow past your teammates, emerging unscathed from the manned obstacle course and grinning, breathless.

Hoshina Soshiro grins back.

"Laps," he says, glancing past you. The rest of the platoon grumbles good naturedly, but they take off jogging around the track. You bounce on the balls of your feet as your Vice Captain stalks over towards you, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his pants.

"How did I do, sir?" you ask.

"Pretty sure Minase almost caught ya," Soshiro says. "And your form got sloppy at the end. But not bad, I guess."

"Minase did not," you splutter, but Soshiro just laughs. "I swear I'll get a real compliment from you someday, sir."

Soshiro shifts on his feet and you blink, distracted by the awkward way he's keeping his hands in his pockets. He's wearing his typical super-distracting skintight shirt — his jacket is hanging on the fence post — and your gaze pauses on the bunch of his shoulders and the strain of his biceps. Not wanting to be caught staring, you blink and move on. His pants are cinched tight at his hips, but as your confused stare drifts lower, he coughs.

"You get enough of that from the rest of the platoon leaders," he says lightly. "And 'sides, ya still ain't fast enough to get past me."

Sparks fill your veins. You glare up at him. "Oh yeah? Let's go, then!"

"Not now."

You nearly stumble in shock. In all your time under his command, the Vice Captain has never denied one of your training requests. It's led to many late nights in the practice rooms, joking and working together, bits of advice tossed out as he threw you around the room with a strength that made you dizzy. It's surprisingly easy to suppress your silly little crush when Soshiro is busy kicking your ass, but you enjoy the time spent with him all the same.

"Huh? Why not?"

Soshiro shrugs. The movement draws your attention to his shoulders, but that only sends your gaze down his arms to his hands stuffed into his pant pockets. Why is he standing like this, anyway? It's like he's trying to — oh.

Your mouth opens slightly in awe. Your eyes widen. The front of your Vice Captain's pants...

Well, it's safe to say Izumo Tech has some impressive compression technology for the anti kaiju suits. Those things are skintight, molded to your bodies for better kaiju cell synchronization and ease of movement. You've often wondered if it's uncomfortable for people with dicks, since the material sticks so closely. But none of you are wearing the suits right now — you're in uniform, and while the uniform is a bit looser, you've never noticed anything... like this.

Like the thick, unyielding bulge straining against the front of Soshiro's uniform pants.

You snap up to meet his enigmatic gaze as soon as you recognize what you're looking at, but Soshiro merely hums a little. "Ya looked pretty good during that obstacle run," he says.

"But you said my form got sloppy."

Soshiro grins. "Ya still looked good."

Does that mean...? You glance at his pants again and — yup, it's unmistakable. His hands may be in his pockets but there's nothing else that bulge could be, unless he's hiding some kind of secret weapon down there.

"Are you always like this?" you ask. Insubordination be damned — there's no way you can let this go now. Your heart pounds into focus, the lightning quick beat of your pulse drowning out your thoughts as Soshiro snorts.

"Do I get in trouble with HR a lot, y'mean?"

Oops. You're blushing. You're blushing and he's just laughing quietly to himself like your reaction pleases him. "I won't — I don't, um... I don't mind, I was just... wondering?"

Soshiro raises an eyebrow. You gulp as you meet his red eyes. "Am I always turned on while I'm watchin' ya take on guys two times your size?"

You nod. Your Vice Captain tilts his head up, watching birds flit across the sky for a moment as he processes this. "Guess it depends," he says, "this only happens with you, y'know. So d'you want me to be?"

"Do I want you to be...?"

"Interested?"

Your platoon is finishing up their laps, and soon you'll need to take your place among the obstacle course to attack as the next person has their turn. You're running out of time to respond. Your brain is buzzing. The both of you turn to watch as your platoon jogs closer.

"I do want you to be interested, Vice Captain, sir," you say firmly, staring straight ahead but glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. The tips of his ears are pink. "I would be honored."

"It's Hoshina," Soshiro says. He tilts his head slightly towards you and grins at your noise of confusion. "You can use my name while we're datin'."

[cosmicanakin]

ִ𓂃 ⋆ IRRESISTIBLE ATTRACTION !

੭୧ . . . chad michael murray x female!reader.

warning(s) smut┆flirting┆explicit language. 𓇼 finally getting around to the requests piling in my drafts. big thanks to the anon that requested. sending u millions of tiny kisses. eighteen plus! adult content | minors do NOT interact.

you sip your margarita slowly, savoring the tart and sweet flavors as you gaze out over the city skyline. the cool night air is a welcome respite from the heat and humidity of the crowded party inside. you love the calmness and solitude the balcony offers, a quiet refuge from the pulsing music and chatter of your friends.

as you stand alone, lost in your thoughts, you suddenly become aware of a presence beside you. turning, you find yourself face to face with chad michael murray, the famous actor you had noticed earlier in the evening. he flashes you a dazzling smile.

"hi there," he says, his voice low and smooth. "what's a pretty girl like you doing out here all by yourself?"

you feel a flutter in your stomach at his attention. playing it cool, you quirk an eyebrow. "just enjoying the view. and the peace and quiet."

chad chuckles. "i can understand that. it's a little intense in there, isn't it?" he leans against the railing, his gaze sweeping over you appreciatively. "mind if i join you?"

"not at all," you reply, your heart rate picking up.

the two of you fall into easy conversation, the minutes ticking by as you sip your drinks and steal glances at each other. there's a tangible spark of attraction between you, a growing tension that crackles in the air.

eventually, chad sets down his glass and turns to face you fully. "you know, i couldn't help but notice you when you arrived tonight. you really stood out to me."

you feel yourself flush under his intense stare. "is that so?" you murmur coyly.

"absolutely." he reaches out, gently tucking a wayward strand of hair behind your ear. his fingers graze your cheek, sending a shiver down your spine. "i have to say, i'm glad i worked up the courage to come talk to you."

you hold his gaze, your breath catching in your throat. "well, i'm glad you did," you admit softly.

with a sudden, decisive motion, chad cups your face in his hands and pulls you into a searing kiss. your margarita slips from your grasp, shattering to the ground, completely forgotten as you melt into his embrace. the kiss is passionate, almost hungry, and you find yourself responding with equal fervor.

when you finally break apart, both of you breathless, chad rests his forehead against yours. "let's go back to my place?" he murmurs.

without a moment's hesitation, you nod. "okay," you whisper.

hand in hand, the two of you slip away from the party, eager to find some privacy. the city lights twinkle below as chad leads you to his car, your pulse racing with anticipation.

the drive to his apartment is a blur, neither of you able to keep your hands off each other. the tension in the car is palpable, a coiled spring just waiting to be unleashed.

finally, you stumble through the door of his place, shedding clothes as you go. chad pulls you close, kissing you deeply, his fingers tracing tantalizing paths along your body. a soft moan escapes you as his lips trail down your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin.

"you're so beautiful," he murmurs against your skin, his voice rough with desire.

your fingers tangle in his hair as you guide him back to the bedroom, your bodies moving in perfect sync. once there, he lays you down gently, covering your form with his own.

the world narrows to just the two of you, a haze of heated caresses and breathless gasps. chad's touch is intoxicating, setting your nerves alight with each caress. you arch into him, craving more, needing to feel him against you.

with agonizing slowness, he worships your body, his lips and hands mapping every curve and sensitive spot. by the time he finally enters you, you're trembling with need, your nails raking down his back.

the pace he sets is torturous, each thrust slow and deep, drawing out the pleasure until you're writhing beneath him. your world narrows to the feeling of him filling you, the way he stretches and caresses you from within.

"chad..." you gasp, your voice ragged. "fuck…"

he groans, burying his face in the crook of your neck. "god, you feel so good," he mutters.

with a sudden surge of movement, he rolls the both of you over, pulling you on top of him. you brace your hands on his chest, your hips moving in a steady, undulating rhythm that has you both moaning in ecstasy.

the room is filled with the sounds of both your soft cries and gasps, the slick slide of skin on skin, the creak of the bed. it's a symphony of pleasure, building and building until you're both teetering on the edge.

chad's fingers dig into your hips, guiding your movements. "that's it, baby," he murmurs, his eyes burning with desire. "ride me. fuck, you feel so good..."

your name falls from his lips like a prayer as you clench around him, your orgasm crashing over you in a wave of blinding ecstasy. he follows right after, his back arching as he empties himself inside you.

for long moments, you both simply hold each other, trembling and spent. then, with a contented sigh, chad pulls you down for a languid, passionate kiss.

"that was..." he trails off, shaking his head in wonder.

you smile, tracing the line of his jaw. "perfect," you finish.

chad chuckles, nuzzling your neck. "yeah. that's one word for it."

you nestle against him, feeling safe in his strong embrace. as you drift off to sleep, you can't help but think that this is only the beginning.

[lelengerine]

for ur mini drabble event could u do a bookstore au with haechan plss 😆 thank u!!

our secret spot

pairing | haechan x reader

genre | bookstore au, nicknames are used for reader and haechan (pretty & hyuckie respectively), no pronouns are explicitly used (but disclaimer: i did make it with a fem!reader in mind >&lt;)

wc | 1.6k a little way longer than i thought this would become... errr

notes | i miss writing for hyuck so much huhu i’m so glad i’m actually getting back into it now that i have the time T^T to anon, im sorry this took so long but i hope you still like it !!

this is part of my drabble req event here!

m.list

with the amount of times you frequent bookstores, your friends have started pointing out how you’re beginning to smell like books yourself- was that comment a jab or a compliment? honestly, you’d take it as the latter from how fond you are of them.

“y/n, it’s literally the start of christmas break! don’t tell me you’re going to that one bookstore again…” you practically hear the pout in your friend, ningning’s, voice. “we’re planning to go out together later in the evening with minjeong and the others, don’t forget!”

“i won’t, i won’t!” a chuckle resounds from your end, “but what’s wrong with dropping by the bookstore every now and then?”

“you always say that!” your friend grumbles before eventually ending with a sigh, “i admire how you love books to this extent, but remember not to bury your nose in them too much, okay? i still want to see your face a bunch during the break.”

“and i’ll make sure of it, don’t worry ning.” you coo at her through the phone, “i really gotta go now though, i still have a bunch of books to return.”

“okay fineee, don’t trip on your way there or whatever.” her words make you laugh a little — and though they may sound a bit dismissive, you know it’s completely out of love and worry for you.

“i will!” you respond before the call goes silent, now packing your phone into a sling bag along with a couple of books you borrowed from your last visit.

what ningning said earlier was pretty much true, you were going back to your favorite bookstore that was only two blocks away from where you lived. aside from the convenience of its location, you were first drawn to it from the fact they allowed the borrowing of books in the first place — almost like a book rental shop.

not only was the rental fee cheap for a college student like you, but there was a little secluded area you managed to locate within the bookstore that has now become your favorite place.

sure, you had to know just where to squeeze yourself through the piles of books and shelves barricading it, but the effort was worth it, at least to you. there was a small window from the back that would shed just the right amount of light for reading in the afternoon- plus! it was quiet, mostly since it was in the far back of the store.

you enter the bookstore with a soft smile at the thought of being able to retreat back into your hidden safe space, the door’s chimes swaying lightly and making a familiar ring in your ears.

after dropping off the books that were due and picking a couple of new ones off the shelves to read, you made your way over to the furthest pile of books from the counter, sucking in a deep breath, before squeezing yourself past all of the books.

the sight of the small, cozy area brings you comfort, but… why was there someone else here? and sleeping soundly at that?

of course you were aware that there was a possibility of others knowing about your little spot, but you never imagined actually running into someone like this.

you set your books down in the corner, crouching down to meet the stranger face to face. you’re not quite sure if it's the sunlight seeping into the place from the window above but his skin glows ever so softly under the light. his fluffy hair covers up most of his eyes from the way it's messily draped, and his glasses, which look almost too perfect on him, are resting at the very edge of his nose.

'he’s… cute- wait no, i literally don’t know him,' you think to yourself before brushing off the thought, replacing it with worry about his glasses falling off.

you try poking the stranger’s arm in hopes of waking him up, yet he doesn’t budge an inch. you proceed to tap on his shoulder next, and even move up to poking his cheek really softly, but there’s still no response from the boy.

you decide that he must be really tired to not have felt your presence and lift the glasses up his nose just a little to make sure they wouldn’t slip.

surely he won’t mind if you stick around here to read now after all that, right? you really didn’t want to read in the open areas where there’s even more people roaming around.

coming to a self-made conclusion, you tuck yourself away in the opposite corner of the cramped space, opening one of your books to start reading without another word.

he stirs up a little bit after you’ve finished a chapter of the book in your hands, soon bringing a hand up to rub the drowsiness off his eyes — forgetting he was wearing glasses to begin with.

“what-” he blinks once, almost as if he was in disbelief of the sight before him, “i’m not seeing things, aren’t i…?”

“what things?” your soft-spoken question somehow knocks the sleepiness our of his system, now staring at you with wide eyes.

“OH MY GOD I THOUGHT I WAS-” you quickly cover his mouth with your hand, trying to drown out the noise he was making.

“you’re in a bookstore! remember that.” you purse your lips together, removing your hand once you were sure he calmed down. “plus, i’m not sure if we’re technically allowed here.”

“sorry, i was just really shocked. i didn’t know other people knew this place existed.” he murmurs, acting rather bashful — from all your assumptions earlier, you didn’t think his personality would be like this.

“i hope you don’t mind. i just wanted a spot to read quietly. there’s too many people outside.” you shy away, covering half your face with the book in your hands.

“no, no! it’s fine i… i don’t mind sharing.” he shrugs, moving his things to make more room for you to be comfortable.

“really?” your eyes seem to light up at his approval, and he can’t help but look away. from all the people who could’ve stumbled upon him, it just had to be you — his classmate whom he’d been crushing on since the first semester.

though, you don’t seem to recognize him, probably because he sat at the back with a cap over his head during most of the classes. but that was okay, you didn’t really need to know and maybe he could tell you another time.

“thank you! i was worried you’d be some sort of creep, but you’re pretty nice!” you start getting a little chatty now that you’ve both said more than five words to each other, and he can only feign offense to your blunt words.

“do i look like someone who’d be a creep?” he asks with a dramatic gasp, peering closer to your corner of the small space.

“i don’t mean that! even if i did say… exactly that…” you ramble off, feeling a little guilty of not filtering your words, but from the looks of it, he was only teasing you.

“sure you didn’t mean it, pretty.” he replies sarcastically with the sudden nickname rolling off his lips, catching both you and him off guard. “oh- sorry i didn’t mean it like that.”

you feel your cheeks warm up, going back to hiding your face with your book. thank god you were reading just a while ago. “it’s alright, uh, what’s your name anyways?”

“oh right, people refer to me as haechan, but you can just call me hyuck.” he replies, wondering if his name would ring a bell in your mind.

“i see… it’s nice meeting you hyuck! i’m y/n.” he genuinely can’t tell if you recognize him or not anymore at this point, well, not like it mattered anyways. the two of you had never talked in class so this was basically his first time actually meeting you.

“well, y/n, seems you’re no longer reading. am i too distracting for you?” haechan jokes lightly, causing you to laugh a little.

“and what if i said yes? go face the corner or something, why don’t you!” you jest before going back to actually finish the page you were on.

a small wave of silence passes by, yet it’s not really as uncomfortable as you thought it’d be, in fact, it felt nice knowing you had company for once.

“will you come back here again after today?” he asks abruptly, fiddling with his fingers as you continue to read.

“hm? yeah, probably.” you answer mindlessly, the sound of a page flipping becoming apparent.

“then you’ll meet me here again, won’t you?” that has you peering up from the lines of your book, now noticing the hopeful glint in the boy’s eyes.

“yeah, sure hyuck.” you smile at him and his heart goes a little haywire. “i’ll see you same time next week?”

“mhm, yeah, okay, nice-”

“you’re rambling.” you point out with a cheery laugh, “i’ll be taking that as a yes though.”

his face flushes, and he’s not entirely sure if it’s caused by embarrassment or infatuation. “yeah, it’s a yes. in this secret spot that’s… now our secret spot.” he replies, mumbling the latter parts of his words to himself.

“did you say something?”

“nope! keep reading your book, y/n. you get distracted too easily.”

“sure… i’m watching you hyuckie!” you gesture your eyes with your fingers as you speak, and he can only laugh at you with the fluttery feeling in his chest growing by the second.

[l0ves1ckf0ol]

hiii! could u write a fic where reader and xavier are best friends and one day she notices those scratches on his neck so decides to ask him about it, but he snaps at her and they start fighting, and he says stuff he doesnt mean like he tells her that she's annoying cus she never leaves him alone blahlbah she feels bad then she leaves and after a few days they finally talk again and he apologizes and they kiss 😝

TALK | xavier thorpe x gn!reader

"y/n, please let's talk."

note: ill do you one better anon, theyre in a relationship now.

ever since wednesday addams made an appearance to the school, xavier acted strange. you for sure noticed that he has been hanging out more at the shed rather than with you, was it because of her? you were never the type to be jealous but ever since that girl enrolled this semester you couldn't shake off the feeling of how she unconsciously has a choke hold on your boyfriend.

it's been a couple days since you've visited the shed, there he was working away on a piece of art, hair tied up in a bun, eyebrows knitted together in a frown. he usually enjoys art, this was the first time you've seen him troubled. there was a unique pattern in the shed, supposedly. it appears that he has painted, sketched and created the same creature in different angles. you were beginning to think there's more to the story than wednesday herself. xavier wasn't the type to communicate unless asked to, so you did.

"what are you doing here?" his frown deepened, you hum, folding your arms. "you tell me, mr. thorpe. you haven't answered my calls, texted or even waited for me at the quad so i can walk you here." you told him, the tension rising as he puts his brush down. once he fully turns toward you, the cheep light bulb of the shed illuminates 3 small scars on his neck. you frowned, taking a step forward as you grab his chin to face another way to make the scar more exposed and visible to you. your hand falls to the side, "care to explain?" you ask him, raising an eyebrow. "look y/n, it's no big deal-"

you didn't listen to him at this point, no big deal? he wasn't even spending so much time with you, he was always chasing that interesting new student and now when you try and make things a little more clearer you find scratches on his neck. what part of a no big deal was that.

"xavier. you have been following that pigtailed magnet for trouble, i went here to talk to you about it, and see you've painted the same monster in about 13 artworks, and a scar on your fucking neck. please be honest with me and do not say that it's not a big deal. it is when you ignore your partner and run off in your tiny little shed rather than express your feelings towards me lately- hell you didn't even bother to let me walk you here." you ramble, silencing him in a heartbeat. frustration was evident in your face and xavier looks like he won't back down so fast.

"y/n, i already told you it's not serious. i'm fine. really. just-"

you scoff, the shed shivering and the groand grumbling, a sign of your anger. but you decided that there was a better time to destroy his shed, just not now. you took a deep breath and the rumbling stopped, "you wanna play this game xav? i'll beat you fucking to it." you mutter leaving the shed, slamming the wooden gate behind you, the temptation to let the earth swallow him for you was insane.

for the past few days not only you were avoiding him but also ignoring xavier's texts and calls, like what he was doing to you in the past days before. xavier huffs in frustration as he redialed your phone number for about 30 times now, he wanted to make things right, he misses you. he for sure didn't want to break your relationship just because of a stupid monster haunting his dreams. at the 34th time, you answered. he got up from his bed, "y/n? please let's talk." he mutters to the phone, knowing just how to make you surrender.

"where baby?" you answer, xavier would like to thank the heavens for your voice, he was so glad to hear you, with a sigh of relief he told you to meet him at his dorm.

once you arrived at his dorm, you knocked once and he already opens it. "y/n, i'm so so so so sorry about everything. lots of shit has been happening ever since wednesday arrived and i-i dont want that to ruin what we have." he tells you, his tone so desperate you'd think that your relationship was on thin ice and he was coming to rescue it. you wrap your arms around his shoulder and embraced him, inhaling his scent and hearing him breathe. you wouldn't admit it but you missed him too.

you pull away and you both sat down on his bed, he talks about everything. how wednesday shows up everywhere and how she was suspicious that he might be the creature rather, the- hyde. you listened to him, as the way he talks just makes you feel relieved. his eyes were darting every single corner in the room out of anxiety, so you placed a hand on his, rubbing the back of his palm with your thumb. once he finished, you smile at him. "see? it wasn't that hard was it?" you told him, caressing his cheek with your other hand. you lay down on his bed and he falls next to you, head burying into your shoulder and chest, his arms sneaking their way around your waist, "i missed you so much, i love you." xavier mumbled, you sigh in content, placing a peck on his head, "i love you too." you whisper as he cranes his neck backward to take a look at you, then your lips finally meet his, a warmth made its way in your body, feeling the most satisfactory relieg in human history.

[cloverdaisies]

hi.. please could you do a juyeon angst with the song nearly witches by panic at the disco i love your writing by the way, thanks

sending all my love ;)

🧸 - anon

NEARLY WITCHES ☆ L.JY

a lee juyeon angst ! only read if you would like to shed a tear or two ! f! reader !

# GHJH 🧸 anon you little gem, thank you so much! i love this song a lot as well i couldn’t believe my fkn eyes when i saw the request ! how do you know i liked p!atd ?? WHO ARE U ?? YOU ACC KNOW ME but sorry for the long wait! here it is <3 THE SENDING ALL MY LOVE?? MY SIGN OFF?! reveal yourself at once ?? who are you >:(

Ever since you’d met, he’d only shoot up with your perfume, it was the only thing that made him feel as good as you do. The sweet scent of vanilla, pine, sandal wood surfaced every sweet memory. The exact way the little things in life would bring the biggest smile to your face, holding hands walking through a local park lit up in a pinky-tangerine blend from the sunset. Watching as you giggled when a small butterfly landed on the tip of your little nose lightly blowing it off with loving laughter. Or how you'd huff and puff in little fits of cute frustration when things didn't go your way, because there sure was one thing, you never admitted when you were wrong.

After what seemed like heaven, a relationship gifted to you by god's most important angels, things soon turned into glamorous hell. You two fought over trivial things like money, who is cheating on who, where the fuck had he put your car keys. Arguments soon outweighed the bliss, going to sleep on separate sides of the bed and failing to whisper goodnight to each other. The little actions, that made you leave him, forever.

A small envelope had been shoved through the metal slot of what used to be both Juyeon’s and yours home, but now it was just him the entire place was desolate. Like Jay Gatsby, the grand walls of his home were built entirely for you, his Daisy. Without you, between the polished spruce walls of your victorian style home, it was completely empty, eeringly quiet. He never let a spot of dust touch your paintings, inspecting them everyday knowing how hard you’d worked on him. The hole in his heart couldn’t bare to remove them, it was the only thing you’d left, along with a small bottle of your perfume which he sprayed when he felt he was the most lonely. The pain he felt without you, was unbearable, everyday he perfected his appearance hoping one day you’d show up at the door and return to his arms - but after 5 years, he decided there was no hope.

Juyeon reached to pick up the letter, immediately recognizing the handwriting on the front and scrambling to tear the envelope.

DEAR JUYEON LEE

you have been cordially invited to a night service to celebrate the wedding of:

(your name) & partner

at: oak tree hall, west avenue

date/time: Wednesday 17th January, 7:00pm

RSVP: 000-000-000

Immediately, he felt his heart shatter like fine glass, falling to his knees, with tears threatening to spill from his familiar cat-like brown eyes. Crumpling the page into a tight ball before booting it across the halls, landing with a light thump on the preserved wooden flooring.

You’d found someone knew, even worse, you’d been planning to marry someone that wasn’t him. He’d tried to do the same, but every woman that lied in his satin sheets were gone the next day because they could never compare to what you were, an angel sent especially for him - you were perfection in its finest form, everything he ever wanted and he still couldn’t give in after all these years. He only had one regret, and that was you. The love he felt for you, he would never feel again.

For days, Juyeon moped in your memories, finding a small scrapbook of yours that he’d kept neat ever since you’d left. With messy black hair laid between the pillows of the bed that once belonged to both of you, he flicked every page of photos that captured your happiest memories. With a bitter sigh, he reached to his night stand to grab that small bottle of perfume you’d left, which he used so sparingly to prolong its life. However, as he held the bottle up in front of his face and whined to himself when he saw that there was no more than a small drop left in the bottom of the glass container.

4:00pm, the miniature grandfather clock on his bedside chimed, it was Wednesday 17th January, while Juyeon refused to accept the invite you’d sent him, thinking it was above unordinary that you’d dare invite your ex to a wedding with your new partner, he was still in cahoots with his conscience on showing up.

He’d waited years to see you, despite the setting, it was his only chance to see you after all this time and perhaps maybe there was just one chance he could win you back, however he knew that was impossible, this was you showing him that you’d moved on, this was your spiteful move after all this time, the pain he caused you, you were giving back after years and yes it hurt him - like a shit load of bricks collapsing on him all at once, that was your intention, despite the fact you didn’t know that all he wanted was you, he waited all this time.

Juyeon couldn’t pass up on the chance to see you, for the first time in 5 years, probably the last time he’d see you in many to come. So he rose from the cream satin sheets of his grand bed and waltzed to the bathroom with a glint of ambition in his once dull eyes.

Showering, shaving the stubble he’d grown after days of not looking after himself so much since he knew you wouldn’t be visiting anytime soon. He neatly organized every strand of his hair to perfection before sighing and observing himself in mirror. A gorgeous man, he was, however over the years he was seeing that less and less, feeling more lonely and unwanted everyday which made him lose any sense of esteem he had left.

Juyeon had collected a huge wardrobe of clothes for himself, filled with neat shirts which the maid had ironed every day by his request, along with dresses for you which he’d bought in your size to surprise you with when you returned. Browsing each suit he owned, navy, maroon, pin stripe, grey, he eventually settled on a neat black suit he’d bought in case he ever had to attend something like a wedding - never guessing it would be yours. It had double rows of buttons and was paired with a long sleek black tie, the color complimented his every feature.

And by the time, he’d decided with himself it was around 6:20pm, he went to collect the chauffeur from his quarters and was met with a high look of confusion from the man when Juyeon had mentioned he needed to attend a wedding.

“Who’s wedding are you attending sir?” The chauffeur noisily asked from the front seat of the car, the sound of rain pattering on the metal roof drowning out his gruff voice.

“It will be (your name) and her new fella of sorts.” Juyeon attempted to separate his emotions from his speech, using a calm tone in order to avoid spitting the words from his lips.

“I’m so sorry sir, I thought one day she would return to you, not dare meet somebody new.” He replied with a saddened tone in his voice, attempting not to sound like he was sucking up to his employer in any way.

“Yeah, well I guess it’s life, people move on.” Juyeon grumbled closing off the conversation as they arrived outside Oak Tree Hall, the place you’d always decided you would be getting married. An old but grand building decorated in marble, surrounded by foliage and every kind of flower the earth has to gift.

Exiting the car and telling the chauffeur to come back at a certain time, Juyeon took a sharp breath of hesitance before taking another step towards the building. Guests spilling into the building from the ceremony which he wasn’t invited to, the chaos of jazz music sounding from every window that had been pushed out ever so slightly.

The bar was a disaster, with men and women queued chaotically trying to purchase an ounce of liquor. The dancefloor already full with people jovially swinging to the tunes in the background. To Juyeon, it was a huge mess and could never imagine this is what his own wedding would be like, he knew deep down that you probably thought that too. You were a character of elegance and class not whatever this disaster in front of him was.

He looked around for you, scanning the crowd with hopeful eyes until he saw the beautiful satin white gown fit for the most gorgeous bride trailing across the ground. You too were looking around over the crowd, as if you were trying to spot someone, he noticed how gorgeous your every feature still was, unchanged, his heart felt as if it was putting itself back together until he met your gaze. Your eyes landed on him, you couldn’t believe he was there, how badly you wanted him there, yet you thought he wouldn’t show. He looked the same, unchanged, he was gorgeous, his every feature still perfect. You wished you could run to him, you wished you could escape what you’d fallen into but you were frozen in time.

“My parents are over there darling, shall we go see them?” Your newly wed, pulled at your arm it wasn’t a question it was a demand and you were ripped from the gaze of your past lover.

Juyeon sighed to himself, however this seemed to bring him some clarity, you had moved on, now he can too, there was no way he would be getting you back and that was how he saw the close of your relationship together.

He sat down at one of the tables, where his allocated seat seemed to be, retrieving a glass of red from one of the servers waltzing the room.

He watched you greet each table, anticipating your arrival at his own, eventually you would be walking over slightly not managing in the little heels you’d worn. You smiled politely at him when you caught his eyes, he smiled back with no concern as the groom looked him up and down with slight jealousy in his eyes.

“Who’s this?”Your new partner asked, pointing towards Juyeon with a stern voice, noticeably irritated by his well kept demeanor and good looking features.

“This is Juyeon, an old school friend of mine!” You lied, Juyeon didn’t react physically but was confused with the false introduction, yet he went along with it nodding to your words.

“Congratulations.” Juyeon smiled, shaking his hand firmly, seemingly shutting the mouth of your partner with a polite yet passively aggressive interaction.

“Thank you.” Your partner smiled, looking behind him slightly to roll his eyes before snapping back to the conversation.

“Mày I have this dance?” Juyeon asked bravely as the song changed to a slower ballroom song, looking at your new husband for approval before he nodded and Juyeon took your hand.

His hand cupping yours, set sparks flying through your every vessel and his too, the shear feeling of his warm skin refreshed every memory. His scent was masculine, the same aftershave he’d always used overwhelming your every sense. You’d also always worn the same perfume, Juyeon being able to take in the scent as he closed into your neck, clasping one of your hands with his and placing another hand on your waist.

“Hello there, liar.” Juyeon spoke first, causing you to chuckle slightly as he’d always maintained the same humor over the years.

“I had to lie, if he knew I invited my ex he’d kill me.” You replied, with a sad laugh looking up at his concerned expression.

“He doesn’t need sorting out does he? He’s not hurting my sweetness is he?” He asked snidely, almost hissing out the words, the terms of endearment flipping your guts upside down in excitement.

“N-no, nothing like that he’s just a bit of a control freak. I love him though, it’s tolerable.” You replied, squeezing his shoulder in reassurance, unable to look at him as you think you may pass out if you did, due to his beautiful face and nature.

"That's not something you want to be saying about someone you've just married." He laughed, sending joy to your heart with the shear sound of voice.

"I guess not, is it?" You replied sarcastically, still not being able to look him in the eyes, as you swayed on the dancefloor.

As the both of you moved across the dancefloor, it was evident the song was coming to a close. It’s been years since you’ve felt the comfort of him, years since you’d felt this way. Finding the strength to look him in the eyes and almost melt into his touch. It was magical, the way he held you, the way he looked at you as if you were the only woman in the world.

"I've waited years for you." Juyeon replied shortly before going to speak again. " So if you change your mind you know where I am. Goodbye my sweetness."

With one last squeeze of your waist he let you go on the last string of the song, stunned for words, you wished you could run after him and kiss him until time ended, but your new husband had already whisked you away. Pulled away from what you didn't know you'd always wanted. You’d made a huge mistake, and as you watched Juyeon leave the room you couldn’t help but feel your heart break. Years were wasted with a man that could never make you feel the way he did, an unforgivable amount of time had passed and it was your fault. You’d put him through so much pain you wished you could take back, but you were trapped, it was too late.

It was too late for you both, hands in his pockets he walked out into the night, maybe one day you’d return, a singular tear fell from his eye. It was time to move on.

[oumaheroes]

Hello! Have u ever written little Peter with the UK bros and if not, do u have any headcanons as to how they would get along/what they would do when he’s over? Like Scotland carrying him on his shoulders taking him to a rugby game idk ! Basically, UK Bros + Sealand

PS thank god for u and ur big juicy brain I love all ur uk bros content SO much

I have far too many headcanons about little Peter and his strange father and uncles ;u;

I hope this little ficlet pleases you, Anon!

Characters: Sealand, Scotland

------

‘What on earth do you think you’re doing?’

By the light of a phone torch, Scotland saw Sealand start violently at the bottom of the stairs and press his fist to his chest in a vaguely England-like gesture.

‘You scared the shit out of me!’ He hissed in a stage whisper.

The boy was wearing long, light blue pyjamas; tatty, well-worn child sized things that England had kept about the house for the last thirty years in case of emergency. Whether emergency new child, or child emergency Scotland didn’t want to give thought to. Sealand been staying in England’s London house with him for a while, from what Scotland could guess, and he’d heard no whisper of him going back to his fort any time soon. Maybe longer too than England had planned for.

From his spot on the sofa, Scotland sat up enough to throw a cushion at him. It hit Sealand gently on the head and the boy glared at him, ‘What was that for?’

‘Asked you a question.’

‘I came down for a drink.’

‘Tap not good enough for you in the bathroom upstairs? And turn that bloody torch off.’

Sealand did so. ‘I wanted milk.’

‘Christ.’ Scotland flopped back down onto the sofa and crossed his arms under his head, ‘You’re spoilt, you are.’

Sealand said nothing. He stood there for unmoving for a while, as if waiting to be told off or shoo’d back to bed. When this didn’t come, after a moment Scotland heard him approach the sofa and then he appeared above him, arms crossed on the backrest and face dark in the dim light, ‘What are you doing down here.’

In reply, Scotland pointed to the ceiling. Sealand followed to where he was pointing and they both waited in silence until a large, rumbling snore made itself known through the floorboards.

‘Ah.’

‘Can’t shut him up.’

‘I thought you were in my room?’

‘I can hear him through the walls. Quieter down here.’

Sealand looked thoughtful, ‘You should have gone to bed before him.’

‘Wouldn’t have mattered. He’s had whiskey; that always makes him louder.’

‘Dad’s got special headphones you could have stolen. He uses them for when he and Uncle Rhys go camping.’

‘Do I look like I want more bullshit this weekend?’ Scotland huffed and pulled the blanket he was under higher up to his chin, ‘Bad enough with him griping about his fucking shed.’

‘The one you broke the roof of?’

‘It was rotten. I stepped on- you know what? I’m not having this argument at-‘ Scotland checked his phone, squinting at the screen in the dim light, ‘two o’clock in the morning. Now piss off and let me sleep.’

Sealand’s head disappeared. Scotland flipped over on his side, hiding his eyes under his hand as the kitchen light flicked on.

After a few minutes of rummaging and the sounds of cupboards opening and closing, the light turned back off and Scotland heard Sealand return to the living room.

‘Got you a digestive, if you want it.’

‘Nah ta. All yours.’

Sealand immediately took a huge bite. Scotland got the impression that the offer hadn’t been entirely genuine.

‘Are you going to be working on the car again tomorrow?’

‘Hmm.’

‘Can I help?’

‘No.’

‘Why?’

‘Christ Peter, ‘Scotland dropped his hand, ‘what do you want, lad?’

‘Nothing.’ The glass in Sealand’s hand reflected the streetlight through the curtain as he moved, ‘Just asked a question.’

A silence fell. There was something Sealand wasn’t saying, an all too familiar unspoken request that Scotland had encountered many times throughout the years.

He sighed and sat up, twisting to turn on the side table lamp as he did so. The light revealed Sealand by the coffee table, small looking in his baggy pyjama shirt. His hair was ruffled, tousled from a restless and uneasy sleep and he turned his face away when Scotland looked at him to toe at the rug. He reminded Scotland of someone very similar over a millennia ago, someone too stubborn to say what he really wanted but desperately wanting it anyway.

‘What.’ Sealand said defensively, meeting Scotland’s eye.

‘Can’t sleep?’

Sealand shrugged but stayed quiet.

‘If Arthur’s on your side of the bed, just kick him.’

Sealand conceded to a small smile but didn’t offer anything else.

Scotland swung his legs to the floor and reached for the remote on the coffee table, ‘What was that shit show you keep going on at me to watch?’

‘Ultimate Survivor?’

‘That’s the one.’ Scotland clicked the TV on and turned the volume down low, ‘Might as well get it over with if we’ve got nothing better to do. I’m not going to be able to sleep whilst Rhys is like that.’

‘Really?’ Sealand brightened.

‘Aye. And I’ll prove to you it’s all bullshit.’

‘It’s really not.’ Sealand joined him on the sofa and buried his legs under Scotland’s blanket, ‘They’ve got all these specialists-‘

‘Bullshit.’

‘It’s not!’

‘Nah, I mean what advice they give. Half is too pretentious and the other half’s all bollocks.’ Scotland settled back against the sofa and slung his arm over the back, ‘Like that Bear Grylls idiot- drinking your own piss. What an eejit.’

‘If you’re ever stranded without water-‘

Scotland made a face, ‘He wouldn’t know how to make a good fire if he was next to a burning house. Now shut up and let me focus.’

Sealand scooted closer and drew his knees up, ‘Bet you one of them will give up before ten minutes in.’

‘I reckon five. English pansies.’

‘Winner gets a tenner?’

‘Deal.’

[tired-biscuit]

Bro I’m dead at that anon from yesterday 💀 the way they said “idk what I’m allowed to say on tumblr” makes it drive like they’re a tiktok addicted zoomer, and they’ve started to have the WORST takes on stuff like porn. People have become so puritanical w their views on porn and consuming it and then they come onto random people blogs and chastise them for using pornhub just to make themselves feel morally superior 😒 it’s not like you were contributing to all of the bad shit that was happening on the website just by watching a few vids every now and then. Literally do/talk about whatever you want on your blog manda and ig just try to ignore the weirdo chronically online losers in your inbox because apparently (unfortunately) they will always be around to virtue signal and make normal people like yourself feel shitty for no reason. We love u 🫶

thank you, i just didn’t like the way they chose to speak with me and immediately accuse me of supporting all the bad things that the site supposedly does just because i watched a vid on it like so many others do.

i get that watching apparently contributes to it after they told me, but what i DIDN’T know was that there was a bad side to it to begin with! and i also get that they were trying to educate and shed light on a very serious topic, but shaming me is definitely not the way to do it. you don’t speak with people like that, you know?

i’m just glad they realised and admitted to picking the wrong approach.

[byierficrecs]

nah, im fr convinced that people are ignoring u on purpose. u put so much effort into each graphic and get less than 50 notes per post (minus a few exceptions) and it literally makes NO SENSE bcuz theres nothing not to like about ur stuff. ur graphics are pretty, the stories are 9 times out of 10 AMAZING and u shed light on so many underappreciated writers and make them feel loved… and then people just scroll past ur posts on the tag and even their dashes (i refuse to believe u have less than 100 followers, which means most of them just ignore u willingly). it legit enrages me how little respect this fandom has for small ccs bcuz u are doing something great for us all and deserve much more love, and bcuz its pretty obvious that ur better performing posts are those that are for bigger stories by bigger authors who do deserve all the love, but the littler authors also deserve it and people rarely even give them a chance.

hi anon !! i'm glad you like what i do~ i'm not sure i'd say people are ignoring me on purpose though :S i think it comes down to me posting at very random times, often when people are in school or at work. this is also an objectively small account (although i do have more than 100 followers), so my reach is somewhat limited x.x

so yeah, i think it's just random luck (or lack thereof) as opposed to people actively choosing to scroll past my stuff. please don't feel bad on my behalf; just seeing the nice things people (as few as they might be) say about my graphics is enough to make me happy ~ :D

(i will say, though: you're not wrong about how my better-performing graphics tend to be for bigger stories. it makes me sad to think that people are not giving small authors a chance, but idk what to do to get people to check their stories :c )

anyway, thank you again for the sweet things you said about my graphics !! i hope you have a great day/night~!!

[toruro]

for the anon who asked about how to make close friends,

being very honest, it's hard to find actual close friends but as time goes on you eventually do end up finding people who share the same interests as you and they are hidden in plain sight, i would recommend trying to make yourself more comfortable in social situations and then building up the confidence to be more outgoing and shed subtle light on your interests.

I myself had a toxic friend group, and after finishing school i have never once contacted them; but some of my close friends, who don't like kpop would love to hear me talk about it endlessly because that's how much they are fond of me, they would laugh when there feed is full of kpop and anime because of me, i would listen to their interests and try them out while they do the same for me.

but we do have some common ground interests because of which we feel united and relatable.

really leave it up to time and try a little from your side, step by step and you will eventually find people who are meant for you, and if someone isn't, someone isn't.

love <3

thank u for sharing ^_^ i agree w the part of finding friends who don't necessarily need to share ur interests but appreciate u enough to indulge in u!

[hwanchaesong]

ok im abt to give u the best reactions ever !!! and this is the first time i ever do smth like this off anon so well ,, here we go reading the first masterpiece

“That's what everyone thought, if they want to talk to you, they just have to look for Jungwon and bam! You'll be right there as well. It was a common notion for you two to be inseparable, a matching set, the missing puzzle pieces that completes the picture.” that’s actually so cute what the 😭 matching set 🥹

“No.” what do u know ?? omg that broke my heart and im barely js a few paragraphs in 😭

never knew tasting cheese could be so romantic… i hate cheese though🧌

DAYLIGHT . but daylight is legit ynwon coded . well at least will be (but its golden.. )

“Mr. Smartpants used the refrigerator to cast a glow in the darkness, and now he is right there, situated right where he used to be, meeting you face to face and you're lost” WE RE DANCING AROUND THE KITCHEN IN THE REFRIGERATOR LIGHT SKSKDKLE I SEE WHAT YOU DID THERE OMG OMG ALL TOO WELL REFERENCE ????? kinda the whole vibe of this fic ngl

"I did. So fucking much that I asked your brother to set us up." you’re so real for that won

"Y/N, I do not imagine you in my future." that stings, that shit hurts to the point that tears begin welling up, then your eyes are wide open at his next words, "You are not in my future because you are the future. My future. Do you get it? I don't imagine. I, indubitably, want you to be at the center of it all." i got goosebumps omg i need a guy like this 😥

“This film is something you have seen before, except tonight,” I THINK IVE SEEN THIS FILM BEFORE AND I DIDNT LIKE THE ENDING all these taylor references?? I LOVE IT OMG

oh wow. i cannot ??!/? express how much this fic means to me now idk IT LEGIT IS SO GOOD AND WELL WRITTEN I LOVE IT SM

it'S A BIG HONOR TO ME THAT YOU DID THIS W/O BEING AN ANON LIKE ?????? THANK YOU SO MUCH 😭😭

again, this means a lot to me. this is also my first time receiving this much feedback through an ask and i'm so happy about it 😔✊

this is my first time writing for enha and one of my worries is that it might not connect with the audience. i was re-reading the whole fic so many times to make sure that it has enough angst, fluff and all that 🥹

so, yeah. you're such an angel for doing this, legit shed a tear or two while reading your reaction 🙈

AND LEMME TELL U I AM IN MY TAYLOR SWIFT BRAIN ROT ERA. 🫠 SO IG THERE WILL BE A LOT OF REFERENCE TOWARDS HER FOR THE REMAINING FICS LMAO (i'm lit in love with u for noticing those easter eggs 🥺)

i am certainly baffled by how much you've made me giggle and smile like a teenager with a crush with only a few interactions. you're the boost of dopamine that i needed to continue writing—

[frracturedjaw]

hi! I'm super excited to see a new slasher writing blog! :D do you think you could write just something fluff/comfort with Vincent taking his mask off in front of his s/o for the first time? thank you!! ♥♥

baby steps (vincent sinclair + reader)

🔉so my darling (acoustic) - rachel chinouriri

summary: vincent is learning to be comfortable in his own skin with reader's help.

warning(s): none

an: house of wax anons coming out of the woodwork... ily, thank u for the request :)

as much as Vincent wants this, the idea still makes him nervous. he knows you'd never pressure him to take the mask off, you have more grace than that. and patience. god, you are so patient with him. it only makes him feel all the more guilty that he's taking his time with this. he can only try to reassure himself that you understand, maybe not entirely, but enough.

you keep your eyes shut -- just like you promised -- when he opens the bedroom door. light from the hallway illuminates the familiar shape of your body, one he'd lovingly memorized. now he would allow you the same privilege.

you feel the bed dip and creak as he crawls in beside you. his eyes adjust to the darkness quickly, your silhouette turning to face him. your legs curl around his as they usually do when he settles into bed. then, your hand splays over his chest. it's bare now. having shed his thick sweater, he permits your hands on his body.

Vincent finds himself suffocatingly aware of how utterly exposed he feels. even in the privacy of his own home, his own room, under the blanket of his own bed, he feels a thousand eyes on him. even when the only ones watching are his own.

"you okay, Vinny? you heart's beating a mile a minute." you whisper. he hums affirmatively, just a little too quickly to be convincing. "we can stop if you want. I don't wanna push--" his fingertips press against your lips, and he murmurs a 'no'. "alright, then." you acquiesce, pressing a kiss against his open hand, which curls to cup your jaw.

your hands continue across his collarbones, the delicate pads of your fingers flat against his skin. the darkness is thick and all-encompassing, and you can't tell much difference if your eyes are open or shut. Vincent knows you can't see him, but his heart thrums insistently nonetheless.

"you've got freckles?" it's more a statement than a question. Vincent hums again, unsure of how to respond. your fingertips rub gently across his shoulders, as if there was something written there. "you're so goddamn beautiful, Vince. I'm falling in love with you all over again." he feels heat rising in his skin, taking an intentional deep breath. he reminds himself that this is only a small step. he can stop whenever he wants. you'd understand. you'd understand. "you talk about yourself like you're a tragedy. I'll never understand you in that sense, I guess."

"sorry." if you weren't so close, you wouldn't have heard him. his voice is a hushed rasp, and his breath tickles your face. he can just barely see your lips pull back in a reassuring smile.

"aw, Vincent. I don't mean it like that. it makes sense, why you think the way you do. I just don't think I could ever see you as anything but pretty."

"...pretty?"

"yeah, pretty. gorgeous. divine, even. you remind me of an angel, Vince."

"Mmh." he mulls the words over in his head, allowing your hands to slide up his neck. he's never felt anything as pleasant as the way your fingers glide over the base of his skull, carding through his unkempt hair and raising goosebumps in their wake.

Momma never called him ugly. he'd been called names in the schoolyard, but nobody that mattered to him had told him there was anything wrong with the way he looked.

it was always implied, though.

"this is your face, now, Vincent. we're gonna take good care of our face, right?" she'd told him, pressing the edge of the mask down against his hairline. he never saw Momma scared (until the end), but he recognized the shrill note of horror in her voice whenever she caught him without it. the way their father would bring him into the office to gaze intently at the whorled flesh under lamplight, a persistent frown tugging at the corners of his mouth. he'd always say something under his breath before sending Vincent away. he learned that what laid beneath the mask was not his face. it was a mistake. like how broken arms and facedown paintings are mistakes. they can get fixed, but are never quite the same as how they should be. a tragedy, he thought.

your nails scratch gently at his scalp, occasionally drifting down the length of his hair. his breathing deepens, and his eyes fall shut. the rise and fall of cicada song is pleasantly loud, the sound filling his mind and leaving no more room for memories.

"can I touch you, Vincent?" your lips brush against his skin when you speak again. every inch of you -- as much as possible, anyways -- is already pressed against him. he can feel your pulse in his fingertips, the flow of his breathing matches yours. you may as well be tangled into one person. but his face was different. like it was separate from the rest of himself. in the bed was you, Vincent, and his face. you notice his apprehension. "I'll wait as long as you need."

you're about to tuck your head beneath his chin just as you always do before sleep when he leans into your hand. your fingers graze smooth ridges of scar tissue. you gaze up at him in the dark, blindly searching for some reaction, some reassurance that this is what he wants. he doesn't move to stop you when your hand moves lower. two fingers trace between his eyebrows, along the bridge of his nose. you find the dip of his cupid's bow, fingers passing over soft lips before settling against his cheek. your other hand rises to cup his face.

"hi." he mumbles and you feel a small smile spread over his features. a giggle slips out of you, and he catches it. the bed wobbles with shared laughter.

"hey," you reply, thumbs smoothing over his cheeks. your hands explore his entire face, his hands resting loosely at your forearms. he can feel every ridge of your fingerprints on the sensitive half of his face. it tingles strangely. he himself never really touches it. "thank you for letting me... y'know."

he doesn't respond, only nuzzling into your hands further. his eyelashes tickle against your skin as he lays butterfly kisses across your palms. for once, he finds himself lavishing in the attention instead of shrinking from it.

"I love you," he rasps.

"I'm glad I get to love you back."

[apocalypticgargoyle]

I read the edgy!karl, I’ve just finished reading the alt!dream, WHEN IS GEORGE GONNA BE NEXT 😩😩

*cracks knuckles* the hcs that everyone has provided me with has hella prepped me and I'm ready. this is dedicated to 🍭 anon, whose fanart always steals my entire heart. i love u babe

𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐌𝐄. ᶤ 𝐩𝐮𝐧𝐤!𝐠𝐧𝐟

± pairings: punk!Georgenotfound x fm!reader

± word count: ~3300

± warnings: smut (18+), language, tattoo work, sadism, pain kink (if you squint), domination, mentions of needles, asphyxiation

song recommendation: Cent Fois by Alice et Moi

George’s mind wandered to his curiosity of the shop across from his tattoo parlor; bright neon signs advertising the local psychic. It was a stark contrast to the dark, wet city housing the businesses. Each night he locked up, he found himself standing on the other edge of the street, staring at the signs and draperies peeking from behind the glass windows and considering shedding his skeptical nature just for one night.

While your business was alluring in and of itself, his true draw to the place came after he had spotted you moving into the apartments above. Your clean appearance completely juxtaposed the business you ran. In his opinion, all natural healers and psychics were born scam artists only focused on the quickest way to pinch a penny.

Yet day after day, he found himself having to tear his eyes from your business just to get home or he would actually venture inside. He was rather subtle about his fascination when it came to his co-workers and regular customers, but each day he prayed you would wander in, requesting some kind of tattoo in a place hidden from outside eyes.

A place he’d like to see again in a less professional setting.

You flipped the textbook page after finishing your paragraph, highlighting a date you were looking for before leaning towards your notebook and scribbling down the fact. You gnawed on the end of your pen absent-mindedly, positive you still didn’t know what your professor had been rattling off about in class a few hours prior. Your sights drifted up to the incense burning across the store from you, the stick on its last few centimeters of wood as the smoke went stale.

You chew on the inside of your cheek, debating if you should light another or wait until morning. You capped your marker and stretched your back, the bell over the door letting out a telling chime as a man peeked in.

You leaned over the counter, closing your books. “Good evening! Welcome to After Life. Can I help you find anything?” You rambled, your mind flashing to the sheet of paper tucked into the frame of your bathroom mirror so you didn’t forget the basics of customer service.

The man stepped further into your view, stuffing his fists in his jean pockets as he walked closer in a cautious motion. His dark t-shirt advertised a band you had vaguely heard of, but couldn’t think of a song even if your life depended on it. What really drew your attention were his tattooed arms; branches from a grand tree twisting every which direction to peek out from beneath his sleeves; bright floral designs and litters of birds decorating the dark wood limbs. You bit back a smile at the small mushroom tattoo near his wrist that seemed to be out of place.

The laces of his Chuck Taylors grazed the floor before he was standing in the middle of your store, looking around briefly. “I actually co-own the parlor across the street. I realized I never welcomed you officially,” he stated, hints of nervousness reflecting in his tone. His accent was calming and husky from the season change.

At the mention of the tattooist across the street, your memory flashed to the various walks of life that found themselves in your store after getting work done. You also thought of the fact that you had seen the man before you break up fights in the street stretching between your properties. The tall muscular people seemed to have no effect on him as he’d pull them apart like school children on the playground.

You pushed your books further to the side. “Oh yeah, that’s right! I should have come over and introduced myself, so don’t worry about it,” you eased, swatting the air of his comment.

He chuckled softly before reality seemed to snap into his head, making him step forward and extend a hand to you. “I’m George, by the way,” he introduced. You took his hand, muttering your own name and hoping your attention span would hold for long enough that he would be entered into your long-term memory.

His hand was calloused in yours, something that you wondered came with the job or if he was some kind of carpenter in a past life of his. You gently pulled his hand closer to you, slipping your hold out of his to look at his palm. He tittered nervously, peering at the flesh with you. Your finger traced along the mounts in his hand, finding Jupiter to be the most prominent. “That checks out,” you mumbled to yourself, nodding softly.

His eyebrows perked up. “What? Am… Am I gonna meet a tall dark stranger and take a trip across the sea?” He joked, making you smile as you looked at his Sun line.

“I didn’t peg you as an Outlander fan,” you chided.

His brows flattened for a moment, chewing the inside of his lip and playing with his snake bite piercings. You found it hard to look away from him. “Honestly, I wasn’t. A girl I was fooling around with really liked it. I don’t know…” he trailed off, making you giggle.

Your nail grazed along his heart line. “You guys were just fooling around?” You quirked, eyes meeting his. His expression narrowed smugly as if urging you to continue. “Your heart line begins below your index finger. You’re not the fooling around type.” He let out a snort. “You fall in love easily too.”

He sighed with a slight sparkle in his eyes as he looked at you. You couldn’t tell if he was amazed or mocking you again. “Well, yeah. That’s…” He paused with a swallow, biting back a grin as if he was uncomfortable, but didn’t retract his hand from you. “... That’s why we’re not anymore,” he admitted. He leaned his elbows on the counter as you sat in your chair. “What else does it say?”

Your lips curled into a soft smirk, his curious eyes trailing over your face as if to watch your brain work. “You have a fire element hand which indicates that you’re confident and passionate. Maybe a bit cocky sometimes,” you teased, making him chuckle with you. You could feel his eyes on you, sending heat to your cheeks as you tried not to focus on the mount of Venus under your touch.

You wanted to ask him about his sexual indulgences, mainly because of the prevalence of Venus in his palm. “You have a mount in Jupiter, which means you’re a natural leader, and rather dominant.” You looked up at him again, watching as he bit back a smirk, seemingly understanding the subtle innuendos behind your statements.

George seemed to have some kind of effect on you, your thoughts clouding with the idea of what his snake bites would feel like against your lips. He smelled like cigarette smoke, but there was no discoloration to his skin to suggest he was the one smoking. He watched you through the hair threatening to dangle over his eyes, his gaze hinting at an attraction he had for you below his collected form. “Go on,” he murmured, voice soft and wispy as the space between the two of you seemed to warm.

You made a conscious effort to keep your sultry thoughts at bay as your thumb brushed over the area you had been avoiding telling him about. “You’re driven by desire,” you answered, voice barely above a whisper. “You’re… very in touch with your sexuality and you thrive on your indulgences.”

You couldn’t help but meet his eyes, the dark irises swimming with some kind of cocky smugness at what you had just told him. He pulled away from you, gently standing up. Part of you wished the counter between the two of you would vanish just so you could be pressed up against George at the mercy of his driven mind. “I feel it's only fair I tattoo you now,” he quipped, making your eyebrows raise. Your confidence shriveled yet you swore you wouldn’t let him know that fact.

You chewed on your lip, looking up at him with a hint of suspicion. “Oh, I’ve never been tattooed,” you avowed, voice carrying the slightest bit of your coaxing nature.

He smirked. “I’ll take care of you, I promise,” he cajoled, teeth playing at his piercings again as you were sure he was already undressing you with his eyes. “You read me, I’d like to do the same.”

And how could you refuse such an appealing offer?

You leaned back on your elbows, your skin sticking to the leather chair beneath you as you watched him pull back his hair, elastic band dangling from his white teeth. Despite securing back his locks, bits of his bangs still hung over his forehead. You liked the interior of his parlor, maybe because it was only the two of you.

George began to fill small caps of dark ink. “I think you should get some crystals in here,” you teased, making him smirk. “I could hook you up.”

“What, like a salt lamp?” He joked, pulling on a pair of dark plastic gloves.

You snorted, lying back and looking up at the ceiling. “It might be good. Lighten the place up a bit.” George swiveled his chair closer to you muttering some kind of line about only getting them from you, but his words fell silent on your ears as his hand pushed up your shirt. You were silently thanking whatever divine force above for swaying you towards slinkier lingerie earlier that morning.

You knew he could see the lacy edges of your bra by the way his eyes nonchalantly flashed up to you before laying out his template on your ribs. You could feel hints of his warm breath against your skin as he studied it. “You can look at it if you want,” he stated.

You shook your head, wanting him close to you as long as he could be. “I trust you,” you muttered, your eyes meeting his again. His tongue pressed against his cheek as he struggled not to smile at your statement. He had promised to cover a small scar for you and by the way he explained it, you were ready to be in his hands. You wet your lips as he adjusted the speed on his tattoo gun. “Will this hurt?” You asked, tucking one of your arms behind your head.

The look of unadulterated lust that he gave you made your toes want to curl. “Probably a bit. It feels good sometimes, though,” he answered. He came closer to you, resting his forearm on your stomach to angle himself in the right position. At the feeling of his skin pressed against yours, you swore your body was on fire. It took everything in your power not to moan. It could have been the adrenaline pulsing through your veins, but his soft breath and the anticipation of the needle made you feel like a junky. “I’ll be gentle, darling,” he leered, his accent muddy and low. He let the needles drag against your skin and you bit your lip, trying not to hiss at the pain. His eyes met yours. “See, not bad.”

You let out a breathy wheeze. “Shut up, you sadist,” you quipped, his chuckle coming out rather roguish as he focused on the work in front of him. Your nerves were more focused on the way George’s hands were barely caressing your body as if teasing and hinting at what he could do to you.

You drew in a sharp breath as he hit a particularly sensitive spot. “Shhh shh. It’ll be over soon,” he cooed, his voice sending goosebumps spreading across your body as his lips tugged into a light smirk. By your palm reading, you knew he was enjoying having this much control over you.

Part of you found it almost torture when George would look at you with soft and lusty eyes for merely a second before his gaze jutted back down to his work, murmuring soft praises about how well you were taking the pain. You would go under the needle anytime he asked, just to receive the sultry treatment he gave.

He was so close, you could have driven your fingers into his dark hair if you wanted. “How did you get this scar?” He asked, cleaning off some of the ink before continuing.

“A knife fight,” you answered without missing a beat, making him scoff. “Actually, I fell into my grandma’s glass table one time. My cousin was teaching me the Electric Slide,” you corrected, making him laugh, shaking his head slightly as he filled in a spot.

He let his tongue dart across his lips. “That’s so cute. Did you ever get it figured out?” To this you shook your head, the both of you laughing. You let out a groan as the needle dug into another area on your ribs, the sound making his eyes dart up to you. He leaned off of you, slipping one of his gloves off. “Wanna hold my hand, sweetheart?” He joked, but you took his offer, squeezing his hand in yours when it got painful enough. You held it close to your chest, hoping he would feel your heartbeat quicken each time he looked at you.

As he finished up his work, his thumb brushed against your hand absent-mindedly. You could tell by the way he gripped your hand as well that he enjoyed that the tattoo hurt you. Most of your mind was excited by how easily he was stirred up by you, while the rest was completely unsurprised and even threatened to bite out that he was a cliché.

When he was finally satisfied, he cleaned you up and stuck on a SecondSkin, biting back a grin at his work as he pulled you up by the hand he was holding onto you with. You couldn’t help but smile at how excited you were to see, swinging your legs over the side of his hair and walking towards his mirror. You held your shirt up, chewing on your bottom lip as you grinned at the ink. George rested a hand beside the mirror, watching you beam at his work.

All of his lines were flawless, your scar completely disappearing within his shading. You’d pitched the idea of an ode to the Creation of Adam. While it was cliche, what better to fit in the space below your breast and give George the impression that you were cultured. Yet you told him he could do whatever he wanted to it, resulting in one of the hands resembling a skeleton and the other holding a sucker. As you praised him, he shrugged off your comments, murmuring about it being his pleasure. He reached out his free hand, letting his thumb smooth over one of the edges of this bandage, which brought you closer to him.

Your cheeks warmed at the close proximity to him as his eyes grazed over your body before meeting your own. His hand moved from the bandage to your back. You leaned on your toes, pressing your lips to his. The tension between the two of you dissipated as he hungrily reacted, pulling you against him and savoring your moans as his tongue slipped into your mouth.

George’s hands moved down your body, swiftly hooking around your thighs and wrapping your legs around his waist to bring you back to his chair. Your hands moved into his hair, letting it loose and wrapping the band around your wrist. The leather was cold as your back pressed to it. George leaned back to pull his shirt over his head, revealing more of the tree painting the expanses of his skin.

If you weren’t so eager to be touched by him, you’d be studying the work of art.

As his lips met yours again, you ground your hips against his, eliciting a moan to vibrate through his chest. You raked your nails down his back, trying to further draw out reactions from him as his hands attentively played with the lace of your bra, fingers ghosting over the skin pressing against the cups.

His lips left yours only to travel the length of your jaw and inch his way toward your waistband. Your pants were discarded with a swift tug from him before he pulled your thighs flush against his, grinding his hips against yours, hands gripping onto your sides to keep you in place. You tilted your head back, relishing in the friction as your body screamed to finally feel him take advantage of you.

You reached between the two of you, tugging at his zipper as your hunger for him escalated. His tongue flattened against your collarbone before his teeth pressed into your skin. You could feel his arousal through his jeans at the sound of your whimpering.

He pumped himself in his hand before pressing into you, the feeling of him inside of you making your head spin as if you were on some kind of ecstasy. Your moan came out needy and desperate as he thrust into you, gripping the edge of the leather seat as his breath hummed against your skin. Your fingers threaded into his hair, raking your nails down his neck as he groaned in your ear at the feeling.

One of his hands grasped your wrists together, pinning them above your head while the other wrapped around your throat. His eyes burned into yours as he leaned back, leaning his weight on your wrists and squeezing your throat, the lack of oxygen making each of your senses more heightened as he pounded into you.

Your moans of George’s name were grated as they slipped through your mouth, his relentless pace and intense hold nearly making you drool from the stimulation. By the practice of his actions, you wondered how long he had been stewing on demolishing you in this way.

He loosened his grip on your neck, leaning down to press his lips against yours, dragging his teeth along your bottom lip just to hear you groan from the rough action. You rolled your hips against his, letting him slow his pace to reach deeper within you. A sadistic grin spread across his face as he rubbed a thumb across your cheek, wiping away the makeup smudging around your eyes from his antics and the heat between the two of you.

He pressed his lips to your neck, wrapping his hand around the edge of the chair again to drive himself into you, the new angle muddling your mind and vision as your body ached to come undone. You sank your nails into his back, earning his low, raspy whispers of your name.

At his praises, you came, tugging on his hair as he bit into your shoulder again, basking in the feeling of you clenching around him.

The next day, George stretched his shoulders, peering through the front window of his shop. His mind sparked with the feeling of your legs around his waist and the softness of your skin beneath his fingertips. He could practically hear you whimpering his name in his ears as he went back to touching up a fading tattoo on his friend’s arm.

“OW, George,” Clay rumbled, thigh flinching at the jab from George.

George snorted, his mind still on the high he got from your pure trust in him as you laid out on his chair. “I’ll give you something to bitch about,” George grumbled, releasing just how gentle he was during your tattoo. The way your voice got soft and quiet when he rolled over a spot that was rather tender already would most definitely be a guilty pleasure of his.

Clay barked at him again as George jerked his hand, fulfilling his promise. “I’VE BEEN NICE TO YOU ALL MORNING.”

Tag List: (to be added, follow this link :))

@karlkitten @more-like-reyna @honk-izzie-was-taken @marrymetheonott @froggyy06 @savingpluto @marshmallow-babe @drunkpumpkincake @little-gremlin-in-the-walls @tinyegg @mintmochiii @clubfairy @aroyaldarknessblr @camerondiaz48104 @madsbbg @rat-poisin @alm334 @cdizzlevalntyne @phsychopathetic @froggerrrr @robinslie @jemalovesmarvel @sbi-is-my-onlysanity

[b000mbayah]

You're not speed, you are the Flash(and also a talented writer btw). It's always me, your loyal anon with a new request: can you do a Twice's reaction to the reader(gender neutral obv) overworking himself?

Thank u <3

-S Anon

PS: who is your ult bias?

Oh thank you for another request S anon! What would I do without you😁

My ultimate bias? Uhhh… oh no. I'd have to say Dahyun.

:･,'*✧*:`･ﾟ'•;*✧*,°.`•✧*'•.;*°✧*･,'*✧*:`･ﾟ'•;*✧

Nayeon

The poor bunny had walked into the unavoidable trap, pushing you to be the best singer you could be, technically. She had encouraged you to practice more, practice more high notes, alongside the low notes.

However, once your vocal chords had snapped and you could no longer speak, that's when she realised she messed up.

She was in tears for days as she watched you ponder around the house, a notebook and pen in hand. The fact that you can't even sing is upsetting enough, but the sight of you not being able to even speak is much worse.

You have to wait sometime till you'll even be able to speak again, even then it will be a faint whisper. Someone has to take your lines whilst you're resting. 

Even if it wasn't entirely Nayeons fault, she still carries a universe worth of guilt.

Jeongyeon

She wasn't having it. Jeongyeon cares for you the most, you being a part of her life since even before she was a trainee, and so she HAS to be protective over you.

That's why when she saw you leaving the house, that same determined look on your face, she jumped out and stopped you, wrapping her arms around your body.

She'd refuse to let you go, she can't possibly do that, she'd beat herself up about it for days on end if she did.

She can't let you continue your sessions alone, what if you pass out or… or something bad happens and she's not there?

Not a single chance she's risking it, she refuses it.

Momo

Momo knows what it's like, what it's like to have the bare minimum in a song, one of the members with the least amount of lines, the least amount of attention.

That's why she understood you when you were having the same problem within your group. Since you two are close friends, she knows everything that's going on with you… apart from how much you've been overworking yourself to prove to your company that you deserve more of the stupid yet very much wanted and deserved spotlight.

You two were having dinner when you passed out, your entire body gave up on you as you flopped to the side. Momo, being in a panic, called a waiter over since she had no experience in any of this.

As soon as you were back up and alright again, only then did she have the confidence to speak with JYP, demanding that he shed some light on the situation, giving you more lines AND a week or two off from practice to recover.

Sana

Ever since you started to reject her hugs and cheek kisses, she knew something was up, her brilliant mind was telling her so.

Seeing you at practice everyday, sweating and not having the suggested breaks was a tad concerning. 

The amount of times you'd stay behind after practice or when you'd leave the house early to get to the given dance studio had her on high alert.

Sana had even followed you to practice a few times, she knows how hard it can be to have everything perfect. 

She'd never have you practice alone after a special talk.

Jihyo

She found out that you were sent to hospital due to lack of iron in your diet. Once she was finally allowed to go and see you, it took a whole week of begging JYP, she bought you gifts and a wide range of food to help you out.

Jihyo couldn't hold back the feeling of melancholy that twisted deep inside her guts, it had burst by the time the doctors came in to give her information on your confirmed condition.

She'd stay behind after closing time and hold your hand as she'd pray for you to get better soon. Jihyo had come to the conclusion that your forced diet was the problem, not enough iron in it at all.

She had scheduled a new diet, one that's healthy and can keep your managers happy just so this wouldn't happen again, well… hopefully.

Mina

Mina can't help but pity your condition. Your anxiety had climbed your torso and reached into your head, taking control over your thoughts like a virus.

Mina watched as you make slip ups on stage and the bashful comments you get, leading you to overwork yourself in every aspect of your career.

Mina couldn't do much, having a rather quiet voice and silenced thoughts. However, she would be able to soothe your thoughts at night since that's when her voice is heard most. 

Her voice mixed with the faint sound of crickets at night is always something you love, something that covers up your needs and fears.

Either way, overworking yourself or not, Mina will always be there for you, through thick and thin.

Dahyun

Dahyun would join you, wanting to keep you company in case something does happen. The image of sweat covering every inch of your smooth skin isn't something she wants to come true, to actually happen.

She'd make sure you'd have breaks every half hour and she'd run out to get some food for you both to snack on. 

Dahyun is your best friend, it makes sense that she's doing all of this for you. You'd do the same either way.

God knows what will happen if you do eventuality faint. Although, one thing's for sure, Dahyun will be in utter panic.

You'd have to hope that she remembers those accessed classes she got whilst in the military, those skills will come into play.

Chaeyoung 

She'd be all smiles around you and all frowns away. She knows that if you see her face diminish the bright light then you'd also be depressed. Seeing the small, merry-go-lucky girl sad would have an impact on you since it's 'your' fault..?

Chaeyoung knows about the consequences of being an idol and you are just trying to suppress that feeling, the feeling of being ignored, and that's what led you to overworking yourself.. again.

She'd tell you jokes and smile at you randomly. She'd try her absolute hardest to cheer you up and she won't stop until she's successful in her mission.

Her hands would clamp around yours as she'd tell you some joke Dahyun had told her in hopes to see your smile, even if it's just once.

Chaeyoung is persistent in her actions and won't stop anytime soon, it's now her job to break your streak of overwhelming hours spent by yourself.

Tzuyu

She hadn't noticed how much you've been overworking lately, doing the most supplementary efforts for that extra credit. Although, when she shot notice she'd pay extra attention to your actions.

Tzuyu is more of an observer, and that's what she did, she observed your actions from afar and from up close.

Once her suspicions were confirmed, that you were indeed overdoing practically everything, she'd move into your room, forcing Nayeon, Jeongyeon and Jihyo out. She'd make sure you're comfortable with the idea, of course.

Once you gave her permission she'd practically become the mother you've never had. She'd sing you to sleep, using her heavenly voice, and play with your hair and rub circles on your firm skin.

Tzuyu would be more caring than anything, something rather shocking since, like I said earlier, she's more of an observer.

[actualbird]

Zak, I need to thank you for getting me to watch Encanto because OH MY GOD YOU WERE RIGHT, THIS MOVIE IS INCREDIBLE!! Honestly, I had 0 plans of watching this until I saw your posts, and then I was intrigued, and now I'm so glad I did!! I grew up the eldest daughter of an Asian family so I really related to both the older sisters! I think a lot people like mr had to face exceedingly high expectations because they were expected to "set a good example for their siblings". I think my favourite line in the movie was from Isabela: "What could I do if I just knew it didn't need to be perfect; it just needed to be, and they'd let me be." BECAUSE SAME I'VE BEEN ASKING THIS QUESTION ALL MY LIFE

And oh my god, Abuela's flashback at the end tore me to a thousand fucking pieces, I cried so much 😭 I see so much of my own grandmother in Abuela, especially since the story of how my family came to settle here is unfortunately very similar to how Abuela came to settle in the village, genocide and all. And I understood why she acted the way she did. It doesn't necessarily justify her actions, but it explains a lot. As an immigrant, my grandmother always felt like she had to constantly had prove to the community that her and her family was not a burden, that she was useful, and that only by doing so will they be accepted, and only by doing so will all the sacrifices not be in vain. I like to think that maybe Abuela thought the same way.

ANYWAYYY thank you for bringing me to this movie, I cried a lot but I'm really happy I found it!! Happy New Year!! Here's to everyone trying to work through generational trauma, it sure as hell isn't easy, but at least none of us are alone <3

hi, anon!! sorry for the late response to this ask, it got a bit buried kjdkjs but IM SO GLAD I GOT U TO WATCH ENCANTO WAHHHH!!

IT'S A RLLY INCREDIBLE MOVIE. for me, nothing missed. A+ music, frigging inspired scenes and utilizations of the south american magical fiction vibes, this very good article "Disney’s Encanto isn’t just about representation — it’s an act of defiance" written by José María Luna made shed a new light to everything i already loved about the movie, and yep yep

the characters n plot

huge agree on isabela's theme being the Perfect One, gosh, and im rlly glad her song was able to resonate with u. genuinely, this movie had a character for everybody to relate to. like, my older sister (not the eldest but the eldest girl sibling in the family) hugely related to luisa and her vibes of needing to be the strong one who always shoulders every problem. and i....hugely fucking related with mirabel //sobs

the entire lyrics and scene of Waiting For A Miracle did not have to go that fucking hard. lyrics alone (i had listened to the song before watching the movie) already made me cry, what with the undercurrent of "im not like my family, i am a part of my family but im not great like them" like whew huge mood haha. im part of a family thats obv not magical but might as fucking well be. literally everybody is like......so goddamn renowned in their field. a legendary polsci professor mom who so many admire who creates such meaningful literal change in the world, a dad whos written amazing plays that have been performed for decades to the point that theyre ingrained into a special tradition, and my siblings already have made names for themselves in places that matter and---yOU GET THE POINT. the song alone hit too hard

i was not prepared for the scene itself. this....joyous occasion, everybody is happy, and mirabel is happy too but. shes not in the picture. she looks at the picture of the family and it's a perfect picture and idk theres that feeling. look at this family, it's perfect and happy and brilliant so long as im not there. the mediocre middle child, the one who hasnt done anything of note, the one thats not special in the slightest.

it's a fucked up sentiment to have nurtured in a person; the thought that youre the only hang-up stopping these people you love truly achieving absolute joy and excellence. the song shifts, mirabel wants to be more, she wants to be like them, if only she was like them, she'd do so much, shes ready, but all that drives the contrast home. me and them, different people.

pause from my oversharing but heres a funny thing that lives in my brain rent free: in middle school, a classmate met my family and enthusiastically told me "your family is so cool! you should be more like them :D"

SKJGBDJGKJDGKDJSBGKJDGJBDKGBDKSJGS

ANYWAY yeah huhu abuela's scene made me sob as well and YEP YEP the trauma of one generation stays for more and more generations to come. and yet, in spite of past violence, there is ALWAYS a way to thrive in the future. the answer is ALWAYS going to be communication, understanding, and love. all those succeeding over fear. it's a frigging fantastic message.

happy new year to you as well, anon!!!