#the return of Yaya!

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 268

Fright Knight sighs, running a clawed hand through his hair in an attempt to stop the flames from flickering into being. It had been far too long since he had taken a human-ish form. His human-ish form. Ugh. He didn’t exactly care for his human form after so long as a ghost, but needs must he supposed. 

Especially with the whole, we’re going to punch a backdoor into the literal daycare part of the Infinite Realms and be surprised when literal toddlers go exploring. 

Well, at least it got him off of guard duty for a bit, which was relieving. Not that he didn’t love the darkness, but it got boring in the shadow of his sword for literal centuries with nothing else happening. He was a warrior for Realm’s sake! Borderline an Ancient in both power and age! He wasn’t meant to stay so still for so long. 

So while ghostling wrangling wasn’t exactly in his area of expertise, he could definitely gather them back up to the Realms. And deal with the curs who had decided to attack literal babies. 

The Daycare area was already understaffed due to just how large it was, and the one in charge of this section had practically sobbed to the Council (In another world they would have been put on hold for a century in line for their concerns, and then more once a Sarcophagus was opened, but they had told the other ghosts in distress, causing others to let them go up in said line) how they were almost certain they had felt at least one core form Outside the realms thanks to the breach. 

Which had understandably put everyone at an uproar. 

So here he was slipping between shadows to do reconnaissance and take stock of if any Ghostlings had left the city. And gently scruffing those he comes across in exasperation because what are you doing, ghostling? Look at the mess, what would your caretaker say? 

[rockhousejai]

Pink pajamas 🌸

Slight suggestive alt on Twitter so uhh yeah you’ve been warned lol

[tai-janai]

Trick-or-treat...

OMG GUY!!!

HAPPY HALLOWEEN !! HE'S SO CUTE!!

[simquoya]

shuffle your on repeat playlist and share the first 10 tracks ~

i was tagged by @lre333 🖤🫶🏾

i tag all the music heads. ☺️🎶

[beachyma]

YAYA???? YAYA!!!!!

HI MY LOVE!

[writtenapoiogy]

stretch; miguel diaz

pairing: miguel diaz x f!reader

summary: "hi how are you!!!? i’ve been thinking about this a lot, but reader being the only person to take care of miguel after his surgery / incident and it just creates so much attraction; since she’s always touching etc 😵‍💫😵‍💫 just pure smut"

word count: 1.4k

warnings: nsfw, 18+, smut, MINORS DNI, dry humping, unprotected sex, underage sex, penetrative sex, slight choking, dirty talkish, and porn with plotist again

a/n: i had a very busy weekend but i really wanted to get this out i hope everyone enjoys!!

When you found out Miguel got into a fight at school and then was in the hospital in a coma, when you were out of town, your heart shattered.

You had your mom get you a flight back to California, as soon as possible.

You didn’t know if he was gonna wake up. You don’t even know how he survived a fall like that.

It had now been about two weeks since the surgery and Miguel was still in the wheelchair. You came by every day to cheer him up. You loved putting a smile on his face.

Plus the two of you haven't really been able to be intimate. His mom and Yaya were out running some errands. You had offered to go for them but Miguel's mom insisted you stay with him while they were gone. She said she loved the way you brought a smile onto his face, especially right now.

You took your spare key out of your purse and opened the door.

“Hey, migs.” You said, walking into his room.

“Hi, baby,” he smiled up at you.

You showed up with a bag of his favorite snacks from the corner store.

You sat the bag of food down on his desk, “Okay before we get to the rewards. Ready to do some stretches?”

“I’d like to stretch something out..” he muttered under his breath, low enough that you couldn’t hear him.

“What was that?” You said before placing a kiss on his lips.

“Nothin,” he mumbled against your lips, right before deepening the kiss a little. He felt his dick harden a little.

You, unreluctantly, placed your hand on the back of his neck, kissing him back before pulling away.

“C’mon,” he reached for your waist.

You backed up swiftly and smiled at him. “We’ll make out later. First, stretches.” You smiled at him.

You went out into the living room to grab a pillow off the couch. When you returned to his room you stuffed the pillows behind his back so that he was sitting up.

You lifted up his left leg and sat down in front of his right leg. You placed your right hand on his ankle, your left moved to his upper thigh, lightly moving his basketball shorts down to his upper thigh.

He inhaled a sharp breath as he felt your hand inch very close to his mid region.

“You ready?” You asked.

Miguel nodded at you with his bottom lip between his mouth. He loved and missed your touch so much. He felt himself fully harden when he glanced down and saw your hand that close to his dick. He knew that if he didn’t keep his mouth shut he might've let out a moan.

You pushed your right hand that was holding his ankle towards his lower stomach. The action made the hand that was already extremely close to his dick graze it and you inhaled lightly feeling the hardness.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “Please.”

“Miguel…”

“Y/N, Please. It’s been so long. I wanna feel you around me any way I can. Please.” Miguel practically whined.

You put his leg down and crawled into his lap, placing your knees around his hips. His clothed cock rubbed against your heat as you sat down in his lap. Miguel’s hands shot up to your ass to guide your grinding when you leaned down to lay a searing hot kiss upon his lips.

Miguel moaned when you moved your lips down to his neck, “Fuck, yes.”

You started to moan into his ear as you kept grinding your hips against his. Miguel’s hands stayed on your ass helping you move your hips with his.

He wanted to come so bad and you knew he didn’t want to in his own pants. 

He wanted you. 

He needed you. 

He needed to come inside you. More than he needed air. More than he cared about being able to walk again. All that clouded his thoughts was you. And especially right now, all he could think about was feeling your hot wet heat squeezing him as he released his hot seed into your pussy. Deep inside of you.

Staying deep inside you until he was sure he was spent. He wanted you to have all of his come. Not wanting to waste a drop.

You stopped moving your hips and practically had to rip his hands off your ass. You quickly removed your pants and underwear and pushed his just below his ass. 

As much as you loved being against him. Skin to Skin. You needed him to be inside of you right that moment. And you needed to feel him come inside of you

You swiftly grabbed his cock and put it at your entrance and started to slowly sit down on him.

Miguel moaned your name when you slid just right past his head. “Mmmm, babe. It’s like you read my fucking mind.”

All you could manage to get out was a low whine, making him smirk. Since it had been so long it was feeling like the first time you two had sex. And it was almost too much for you to handle.

You sucked in a sharp breath when you were completely sitting on his cock. You felt like he was in your stomach. You placed your hand on your stomach like you had a baby in there. Miguel bit his lip then grabbed your ass even harder, eliciting a moan from you. He started to lift you up slowly, slamming you back down onto his cock. You couldn't help but let out a loud moan.

“M-Mi-Miguel, oh fuck!” You gasped. You may have been on top but he was still in control. He was making your mind go dizzy. You had to drop your hands onto his chest to bind yourself.

Miguel kept letting out groans, hearing your pussy squelch around him. He was so close to coming so fucking close. He started to bring you up and down at a faster pace. Saying a slew of curse words in Spanish.

“Y/N, I want you to come for me. Do you wanna come for me?” Miguel spoke in between his grunts. 

You tried to get out the words to respond to him but your words came out in babbles as you reached the tip of your climax you were so close and-

“Did you fucking hear me?” He growled as he took one hand from your hips and wrapped it against your neck.

You’ve never felt your climax hit you so hard and so fast. Your eyesight went spotty from how hard you shut your eyes. You love it so so sooo fucking much when he’s assertive. 

You couldn’t help yourself but moan out his name over and over again as you felt yourself get wetter as you milked his hot. Begging him to come not using so many words.

“Si, esa es mi chica.” He smiled at you and then you felt his dick twitch inside of you. He removed his hand from around your neck and put it back on your hip. Miguel quickly moved you no more than an inch up before slamming you right back down on his cock. He came while moaning. You will never get over how good it feels when he comes inside of you. Claiming you.

Miguel's climax made you come again

You clenched your pussy around him making sure you got every last drop of his seed. You bent down and gave him a slow kiss as you cut your breath.

“I love you so much handsome.”

“I love you most, mi amor.”

You lifted yourself off of him with a wince, having gotten used to him inside of you again. You went on to clean the both of you up.

You climbed back into the bed and then laid on his chest. You loved his afterglow after you two finished. You loved staring at his face and taking in every single one of his features as if you were outlining a picture of him on a piece of paper. He was so goddamn beautiful and you couldn’t wrap your head around it. 

You didn't realize you were dozing off til you woke up about an hour later and you continued to examine his face like you had been doing before you fell asleep. You could do this for the rest of your life.

[goldfades]

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒, 𝐇𝐄 𝐊𝐄𝐏𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐈𝐍' / 𝐒𝐖𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐘 𝐏𝐎𝐄𝐌𝐒 ─ QH⁴³

TRACK 7 ─── FRESH OUT THE SLAMMER

TTPD CELLY MASTERLIST !

౨ৎ ─ summary | he was always the first person she calls when she's broken up with her boyfriend. will this be like every other time, or something new?

─ word count | 2.2k

─ warnings | NSFW! smut with lots of plot, so much fucking angst (it's ttpd what do we expect?), mentions of cheating and manipulative (ex) bf, breaking-up, lots of cheating (on reader + kinda quinn/reader but depends on how you look at it), nothing else pretty much

─ ev's notes | yaya! another part!!! WOOO, but this one's an angsty one (but hey, at least this time it has SMUT WOOHOO)

THE FALLING OUT was bound to happen. You knew that at the end of the day, it was just simply fate. You weren't sure what the last straw was, all you knew was that you knew it was inevitable ─ it was supposed to happen that way.

You didn't even know where you were going until you got there. It was a habit, the moment you broke up with your boyfriend, you found yourself on Quinn's doorstep. Your mind was racing and somehow empty at the same time as you raised your fist to knock on his door. The familiar wooden door loomed before you as your hand hovered in mid-air, trembling with uncertainty.

Your hand trembled as you raised it to knock, the thud echoing through the silent night. Seconds stretched into eternity as you waited, the tension thickening with each passing moment. Then, as if on cue, the door swung open, revealing Quinn's disheveled appearance.

His gaze met yours and you offered no explanation, no justification for your sudden appearance on his doorstep. Instead, you simply stood there, searching for solace in the depths of his brown eyes.

Quinn's expression softened, a silent understanding passing between you. Without a word, he stepped aside, a silent invitation for you to enter his home once more.

You entered the familiar home. It's changed since the last time you'd been there, almost six months ago ─ the last time you and your boyfriend had taken a break, which funnily only had lasted a week, but you somehow still had time to see Quinn again.

You sat on his couch comfortably as a silent sigh left your plump lips. Quinn's gaze lingered on your form, a mixture of familiarity and longing evident in his eyes.

Quinn moved to join you on the couch, his presence a comforting in uncertainty that threatened to engulf you. His hand found yours, fingers intertwining and for a fleeting moment, the weight of the world seemed to lift from your shoulders.

"You want coffee?" Quinn's voice was rough and low as he spoke. Even though it was well after midnight, he still offered coffee ─ he was a caffeine fein but you didn't mind the bit. He always said the best therapy was warm drinks.

You nodded gratefully in response to Quinn's offer, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. As he rose from the couch, you watched him move with quiet admiration. There was a grace to his movements, a quiet confidence that spoke volumes without the need for words. It was moments like these that reminded you why you had been drawn to him in the first place, why his presence felt like a lifeline in the midst of uncertainty.

Lost in thought, you barely noticed as Quinn returned with two steaming mugs of coffee cradled in his hands. He settled back beside you, offering you gray Canucks mug with a small, knowing smile. You accepted it with a word of thanks, the warmth of the cup seeping into your fingertips.

Together, you sat in companionable silence, the only sound the quiet hum of the night outside and the occasional sip of coffee shared between you. You could feel Quinn's gaze on you after a few minutes and eventually, he spoke up.

"Are you done with him? For good?" Quinn's voice was gentle, yet tinged with a hint of envy. You could sense the weight of his question hanging in the air, the longing for reassurance mirrored in his eyes.

The honest answer was: you didn't know. You never knew, especially not with your boyfriend ─ no, ex boyfriend. You wanted to be done, you wanted to be out of the relationship that truly felt like a prison. But there was always that nagging doubt, that fear of the unknown that held you back from fully committing to moving on.

You struggled to find the words to explain the conflicting emotions that churned within you, torn between the want for freedom and the comfort of familiarity.

"I... I'm trying," you admitted, your voice shaky. "But you know how it is... it's complicated."

Quinn wanted to be angry, wanted to shout out at you and tell you that it would be okay. That he was there for you ─ that you never needed that cheating asshole you call a boyfriend. But he just couldn't, you looked broken already.

So he did what he knew how to do best, touch you. Gently, Quinn reached out, his fingers brushing against yours. Without another word, Quinn pulled you closer, enveloping you in the warmth of his embrace.

He pulled your chin up, for your eyes to meet his. He didn't say anything else, he just leaned in and planted a needy kiss on your red lips.

──

"I don't understand what the hell you mean," Nick's voice was bitter as he averted his gaze from your face. Your gaze was pleading ─ all you wanted was for him to have a shred of empathy, for him to understand you.

Before you could say another word, he threw his fork on the plate causing a loud noise to echo through your apartment. You flinched, the tears that were building in your eyes finally rolling down your cheeks.

"God, I can't even eat in peace anymore." Nick's voice was quiet but any less bitter. He finally met your eyes and you didn't see any empathy anymore, only anger.

You let out a shaky breath, squeezing your fists. "All I asked was for you to was for you to listen, to hear me out, to try to understand where I'm coming from."

"Understand, what exactly?" Nick scoffed, his tone dripping with disdain as he cut you off. "Understand your excuses? Your lies? Your betrayal? I'm tired of it, I'm tired of being the one who always has to bend over backwards to accommodate your feelings."

"My betrayal?" You responded, your hurt turning into anger. "My damn betrayal?! Me? You were the one who cheated on me, while we were together."

"What about Quinn, you think I don't know?" Nick glared at you with pure anger.

"What about Quinn?" You answered with the same tone, your voice tinged with defiance as you met Nick's glare.

"You think I don't know what's been going on between you two?" Nick shot back, his voice rising with each word. "I've seen the way you look at him, the way you act around him."

"I've never slept with him while we were together, Nick. Do you think I'm sick, like you? You've fucked every girl in Vancouver, you think I don't know?" Your voice cracked with the weight of your words.

The accusations hurled between you were like daggers, each one piercing through the fragile facade of your relationship, leaving behind a trail of devastation in its wake.

Nick's expression darkened at your retort. "Don't you dare turn this around on me," he spat, his voice laced with bitterness. "You're the one who's been lying to me, sneaking around behind my back."

You let out a bitter laugh and now it was your turn to throw the fork in the plate. You stood up from the seat, your heart racing with anger.

Standing up from your seat, you faced Nick with a fire burning in your eyes. "You accuse me of lying? Of sneaking around? Look in the damn mirror, Nick. You're the one who's been cheating, not me."

"You're the one who's been living a lie, Nick. Pretending to be something you're not, while sneaking around behind my back."

The words spilled from your lips in a torrent of pent-up emotion, each accusation a barb aimed squarely at the heart of the matter. You refused to back down, refusing to allow Nick to blame you for your relationship problems.

"I'm done." You grabbed your coat and purse, practically running out of the home. You pulled out your phone, shakily sending a text message.

i need you can i call you? please

He responded within a couple minutes and by then, you were almost at his house.

of course i'm home

──

In that moment, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the sensation of Quinn's lips pressing against yours, a desperate plea for you. As your lips met his, the weight of the world fell away, replaced by the intoxicating rush of desire that surged between you.

You let him take control, his hands roaming your body. He pushed you down softly, letting you fall back on the couch as he got on top of you. You were breathless as he pulled back from you, his lips pressing soft kisses on your neck.

He pulled your legs up so that you were straddling his waist, while your hands pulled on his ruffled-up hair. You let out soft whimpers as you let him kiss you and take care of you ─ the way Nick never did. His touch was soft, tender and sweet. Every touch was meaningful and filled with care and neediness.

He hadn't felt your touch in months and he was so needy, so desperate but he was still careful and soft. The way you liked, the way he knew Nick never treated you. "God, you're beautiful."

He mumbled softly against your neck, soft praises leaving his chapped lips. Quinn pulled off your shorts carefully, throwing them on the ground before he pulled off his sweatpants.

Wordlessly, you both stripped until you were both naked. He held you close to his chest as he let out a desperate groan, your arms around his shoulders to keep close as possible. He needed you so bad and you wanted to feel him inside of you, to feel him as close as physically possible.

He didn't waste any time, he pulled out his hardened member as slowly pushed into your already soaking hole. He held you close as he bottomed you out, your eyebrows furrowed in concentration as a moan fell from your lips. God, how much he missed that sound.

He waited as you adjusted to his length before he began thrusting in and out of you, his movements became more desperate. His hands gripped your hips as he fucked into you, making his own desperate grunts.

You felt so full and you swore this was exactly where you wanted to be, always and forever. All thoughts of your problems were dissipated the moments his lips touched yours and it felt like now you were floating, you and Quinn in your own world. Lost in the warmth of Quinn, you surrendered yourself to the blissful oblivion of the present moment; you felt weightless, untethered from the burdens that had weighed you down.

As the world faded into the background, you allowed yourself to be consumed by the overwhelming tide of emotion that surged between you and Quinn.

And as quick as it started, you felt yourself come close. "Fuck, Quinn. I'm so close," you whined as Quinn grunted in response. He pulled your legs further up, pulling them on to his shoulders so he could you feel even deeper.

The new angle made the knot in your stomach snap unexpectedly, a guttural moan coming out of your mouth as your head fell back. You cried out, tears slipping from your eyes from the pure bliss you felt.

A few more deep thrusts and Quinn's seed was spilling into you, he fell onto your chest quickly. Both of you caught your breaths, your minds empty except for each other.

As you lay entwined in Quinn's embrace, a sense of calm washed over you and in that intimidate moment, you felt the fear of unknown slowly dissipate as you felt Quinn's arm held you close.

With each beat of your heart, the truth became painfully clear: Quinn was the only person who truly understood you, who accepted you for who you were, flaws and all. In his arms, you felt seen, heard, and loved in a way that no one else could ever compare to.

"I don't wanna lose you, never again." Your voice was hoarse and full of emotion. "Quinn, look at me."

As you spoke, your voice trembled with the weight of your emotions, raw and unfiltered. With a gentle touch of his chin, you urged Quinn to meet your gaze, your heart laid bare before him, vulnerable yet overflowing with love. In that moment, there was no room for doubt or hesitation, only the overwhelming need to express the depth of your love for him.

Quinn's gaze met yours, his eyes filled with a mixture of tenderness and understanding. "I don't want to lose you either," he whispered, his voice barely above a whisper yet filled with a fierce determination. "You mean everything to me."

There was a vulnerability in his words, a raw honesty that came from the depths of his heart. And as you looked into his eyes, you knew without a doubt that he loved you.

With a trembling hand, you reached out to brush away the tears that glistened in Quinn's eyes, your touch a silent promise of the love that burned brightly within your heart.

"I'm here," you murmured softly, your voice a whispered vow of commitment. "I'm not going anywhere."

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[fuji-sen]

the 'evil imposter' just wants to be a baker!

Prologue: The Foodie turned Imposter?!

Part 4.5 special! : adventures of a pyro slime

[ part 4 ] || [ masterlist ] || [ part 5 ]

divider is made by @/saradika-graphics

The pyro slime stared at you worriedly, it wanted to comfort you but alas, even if you weren't in a body of water it must not. For even touching you would leave you with more pain. Perhaps it had been better if he was born from a different element.

Their eyes squint into something akin to a glare, if only those stupid humans didn't hurt you! or got to you first! they were fake non-believers! they didn't know a real prophecy from a fake one even if it burned them to crisp!

Focusing on the task at hand, the slime watched as something purple crackled from your skin, and its eyes widened, electro! that would be easy to cure. It jumped, but you did not notice as you slowly fell into a pit of hurt, wallowing in pity. Okay then, it jumped away and disappeared in search of a few items.

It's eyes lit up finding a purple crystal, or rather an electro crystal, So, since it had no arms or claymore, it did the first thing that popped into his mind. Crash into it, which worked after a couple of headbutts thanks to the elemental reaction 'overload' which was very neat!

Anyways, after acquiring the electro crystals and swallowing it for safe keeping (which left a weird tingling sensation in its mouth) it then went off to find some butterflies.

Finding one was easy as butterflies were not scared of a slime's presence, they were however quite flammable. The slime stared down at the numerous burnt and dead butterflies that littered the destroyed path. .

damn.

Hearing footsteps it went to its ignited state to appear menacing only to relax upon finding some hilichurls exploring the area. So without any fear, or young slime protagonist approached the hilichurls who stared at it curiously.

"olah, kucha celi beru si?" (hello, little fire what are you doing?)

The hilichurls stared at the pyro slime that spat out a few pieces of electro crystals and then stared at the many charred butterfly wings. "sama! sama!" (samachurl) The pyro slime tried to convey in its own slime voice, which sounded like a person trying to speak under water with a dry throat.

"dala?" (what?)

"creator! help! uhhh" the pyro slime tried to remember the hilichurlian language, its eyes brightening up at remembering a few important words.

"Tomo Unu!" (Help God!)

The hilichurls flinched, straightening up in a way the slime was reminded of those rigid knights. "Unu?!" (God)

"Yaya ika!" (Humans bad/Enemy!) the slime told them "Unu Mosi gusha*" (God sad).

The hilichurls then understood and from what they gathered, the slime needed the help of a sama so one of them left to return to their camp and soon enough an anemo samachurl had come. It crouched down, staring at the pieces of electro crystals and the burnt butterflies and deduced what the slime had needed.

An Insulation Potion.

OMAKE

"Upa!" The samachurl yelled and commanded pointing at the distant butterflies. And with a battle cry the hilichurls ran towards the flying insects and begun jumping high with their arms flailing in an attemt to catch them "Upa!"

One hilichurl fell face first on the hard ground and another laughed at it, his hands were closed as he had successfully caught a butterfly "Ye kucha!"

The hilichurl that had fallen had stood up and proceeded to kick the other one, due to the pain the other hilichurl clutched his knees and accidentally released the butterfly it caught.

". . nye. ."

*Mosi Gusha means "eat vegetables" but is also used as an expression of sadness. I wonder if Hilichurls don't like vegetables since they associate it with sadness or something negative.

taglist: @fantasyhopperhea @rhoswen-drake @cchiiwinkle

Also please comment what to name our little pyro slime buddy! They're gonna be one of our many best friends and companions in the story.

[phoniexrose02]

Heat

Miguel Diaz x Black! Reader

Smutt~

"baby you sure you Feeling alright?" Miguel ask in a Quiet Whisper, You'd been Feeling him up all Day.

Whatever your boyfriend had Going on Was making you hot. After being in the hospital for a Bit, he'd finally seemed to be Recovering Well an Even Gained a Few Pounds to show it.

"Mm'Fine..."

The Boy Had you in Heat~

He'd smash his Heavy Body into you When Cuddled, and his Strength was Godsent, He'd Pick you up with Every Hug an effortlessly pulled you into his Lap Whenever you Found yourself Seated.

It didn't Help that you two were Recently Sexual active, he Made you Feel like a Goddess While you Learned EachOther's Body's.

You Sat in his Living room Feeling him up threw his Pants, While he tried to study on the Homework Ahead. He'd of course Taken Note as he'd found himself Struggling to focus."My Ma is Leaving for work Soon Amor, you'll get what you want~" he whispered to You Nibbling and Sucking at your Ear."But for now let's try to get this Done, Ok?" You Nodded an He Kisses you Cheek before returning to the Homework.

You Couldn't Keep still tho...you couldn't stop yourself from Looking at his Handsome Face. You'd thought about Teasing him again Thirty Minutes later only for his Mother to rush out into the living room in her Scrubs Separating you once again.

"Your Yaya's at her Bookclub an Dinners in the Oven Miggy"

"K, te quiero mamá!" Carmen Kissed at her Son's Cheek as you Waved Goodbye." And I want Fénix Home By 9!" She Yelled on Her way out Making the two of you Laugh.

Followed by Awkward Silence as you Both Came to the realization."Do you...Wanna Eat Dinner First??" Miguel asked Shyly as you started Rubbing at his thigh. "I don't wanna Wait any Longer~" you Whimper out to him, Wrapping your Arms around his Neck your Nails Gently Glazing against him, he Shivered but Quickly Wrapped his Arms around your waist pulling you Close."Straight to the Room Than?" you Nodded, Shifting onto his Lap."Take me There?~" you Pouted out grinding again his tent. You Yelp Out When your Suddenly off the Couch.

"I Gotchu Babe~" Miguel Smiled he could tell you Went Gaga for his Muscles, He felt at Ease Whenever you touched him, Loved on him. He walked to his Room While you Gripped him Tightly, you Bite your lip when he finally climbed you both into Bed Placing you against his Pillows."Your so Strong Migs~" he Smirked pulling you into a Kiss.

" I'm all Yours Amor~"

At this Point you two were furiously making out an Tearing off each others Clothes."Damn Baby~" Miguel Moaned out as he Pulled your Panties from your Soaking Cunt."You in Heat or Something Chica?" He Giggled out Before Tossing them somewhere in the Room, he Ran his Fingers Threw your Seeping Pussy while you Grab for his Hard Dick an Began Playing an Jerking at his Tip, He Hummed as he thrust into your Hand letting his Fingers Playing with your Clit. Miguel Groaned out Quietly as he started a Harder Thrust into your Hand, you Pulled him Closer with a Small Whimper of your own.

"Come on Miguel, let me Hear you~" you pleaded an he'd let his noises Slip out more as she Jerked faster, he played along slowly circling around you hole before shoving two fingers into your Heated Mound."Fuck baby you so Hot you Want me that Bad?~" he Struggled out thrusting his fingers in with Ease. You Nodded Pulling away from him in pleasure, Laying Back into his Pillows, you Rolled your Hips into his Fingers as he leaned down lightly biting an Sucked on one of your nipples while Pinching the Other, You Yelped with the Sudden add Pleasure arching your Back off of the Mattress in Pure Bliss.

" Fuck Miguel! I'm Wet enough, I want your Dick~" he pulled his Fingers from you Before Shoving them into his Mouth, He Moaned at your Taste Before pulling them from his Mouth with a Smirk." So Horny Mi Fénix~" he Hopped up from his Bed retrieving a Condom from on of his Bottom Draws, an Slipped the Latex before pulling your legs to the Edge of the Bed.

You Wrapped your legs around his Middle already familiar with the Position until he pulls them over his Shoulders instead." I wanna bury myself in your Heat Amor, Let me fill you up Good~" he Guided his Dick into your Warmth with a satisfied Groan, his Dick being Squeezed the deeper he slips in. Your Moans fill his Ears as he Worked himself In Thrust by Thrust, he Hugged you Thighs Close to his Chest as he Worked a Good Rhythm into you."

"Fuck! Your Melting me Amor!~" his Dick filled you Perfectly, his Beautiful tip Rubbing your Deepest Depths. You Gripped the Sheets For Dear Life as he pulled you In with Every Thrust Screaming to the High Heavens as he Molded himself into you,

You Mewled as he Fucked you Harder his Groans Getting Louder as he Chases his High."Ruin me Miguel~" you Begged for him an he Squeezed your legs letting his Fingers sink Deeper Thighs as he Fucked feral, Probably the Hardest he Ever Fucked you.

"Oh Fuck! I'm Cumming Papi! Don't Stop! Don't Stop!~" Your reach you Breaking point Pretty Quickly but you Weren't Expecting your Juices to Cover Both your Stomachs, Miguel didn't Have much Time to be Shocked as his Thrust Grew Sloppy, moving with no Rhythm as your Pussy Sucking him in with Every Thrust, He shoved himself as Deep as he Could Fit an Came with a Beautiful Moan."Ugh! God you have the Best Pussy I've Ever Felt!~" He panted Resting his hands on your stomach."I'm the only Pussy you've ever Felt" you Said Sheepishly Drawing his Attention Back to you, he Pulled you legs from his Shoulders. "Hush...don't think I didn't Hear you Earlier~" Miguel wiggled his Eyebrows Rubbing up your Hips.

"It..it just Felt Right! At the Time..."

"Try an Remember that Excuse Next Time Papi's Makin' you Squirt~"

More Cobra Kai 🐍

[nescaveckwriter]

Whiskey Scar's...🥹

A/N: 🐞... Okayz my dearest love bugs, 💕 another one done for @jacklesversebingo 🥰 yayaness, I know its been a while though, But I hope you all are gonna enjoy, its a hard topic but needed.🥰 Okayz much love🥰❤️🩷

Warnings: *18+ Only* This can be triggering, please read with caution... Abuse, Violence, Blood, Prison, Some light swearing... Anything else let me know...😱

Characters: Dean x Fem Reader,

Words: 1350 🥰

Cover & Pictures: Pinterest, Canva, Google

Side Note: Please check out my Masterlist for more, epic stories🐞

Prompt "it was so worth the injury though" will be in bold. 💕

Raindrops fell on the black Chevrolet Impala. A Led Zeppelin song blasting over the radio, the muscular green eyed man hummed to it, he knew the words by heart. Reaching over for the hamburger he's been craving the whole day. 

As his left hand reached for his dinner, he saw something in his headlights, jolting the steering wheel to the side, pumping the brakes. When the Impala swerved to a stop, he got out, anger on his face, as he walks over to the crazy person, he just saw the back of her body, her hair wet and sticking to her clothes, she seemed to be drunk, it was the way she walked in the middle of the road, that made his blood boil, so he went towards her, his voice sounds harsh "What the hell? Can't you look where you're going?"

She flung around, her eyes wide and filled with fear, her shirt torn, she had a black eye, her lips were busted, there were bruises on her face, neck and exposed collar bone, the rain mixed with the red liquid running down her face, staining the rest of her skin, and shirt.

His jaw clenched, she didn't need to tell him what happened, he knew by the look of her, it was some damn coward, he gently approached her, his voice soft and low, "Miss? Let me help you" she just looked at him, searching his emerald eyes, for lies, or threats, or whatever was going through her mind, he took a few deep breaths and stepped a little closer, "please let me help you" he pleaded.

Her fearful eyes pierced his, her voice broken, tired and shaky "P... please don't hurt me", swallowing down the emotion, he slowly lifted his hands in the air, gently he replied "I won't, I just want to help you please". She just stares at him with those big eyes, he repeats his voice, sounds softer than usual, "I'm not going to hurt you, let me help you please...." Her body trembling, her bottom lip quivering "h...how can you help me?" The brokenness in her voice took him by surprise, and he felt a pang of sadness mixed with anger at the bastard who did this to her. 

So he slowly strides closer "why don't you let me take you to the hospital to get you checked out?" He quickly added "I just want to help, that's my only intention... I want nothing in return" she just slowly nodded and he held out his hand, but she didn't take it she just slowly walked towards his car, her arms crossed over her chest as if it was her way of comforting, maybe protecting herself,maybe even hiding the whiskey scar’s, so he walked next to her and opened the door. He saw the pained expression on her face as she made her way into the car.

After he closed the door, he went and got in behind the steering wheel and when he looked to his side, he saw the way she tried to cover the bruising, with the torn shirt, so he gently reached behind, taking his jacket and handing it to her without saying a word she took it and covered herself. He heard her distant sniffles, every now and then she'd wipe the tears, flinching every time. To be honest he could feel the anger boiling inside of him, he put that impala in drive and started making his way to the Hospital.

After a while he cleared his throat, and spoke in a gentle way "the name's Dean," she turned her bruised face. A faint smile on her busted lips, he almost missed the name she gave, as he had to fight the urge, to pull over the car, take her in his arms, hold her tight, help her feel safe, but he knew that weren't the right thing to do, so he nodded and replied "beautiful name". She looked at him, just smiled. After a few moments of uneasy silence she spoke, "thank you, I mean for picking me up" then softly adding "for saving me".  

Those words sent a chill down his spine, he didn't save her, that bastard is out there, and he's been on this earth long enough to know he's going to come looking for her. His knuckles white as he held the steering wheel, his voice a little gruff, "where is he?" Her head snapped towards him "w-what?" He could not hold it in anymore, "the bastard that this to you?".

She shook her head, "No... No... He's a dangerous man, he... He..." She started crying again.

Dean looked at her, his green eyes intense, "listen to me, I just want to go talk to him, please..." Yes he lied to her, he wants to beat the crap out of him.

So after a little convincing and asking nicely she answered his question with hesitation and gave him their house address. He immediately turned the impala around, speeding down the road, in a matter of what felt like a few minutes he pulled into the driveway. 

Her eyes widened, when he opened the glove box and took out a gun, with a frightened voice, "p.....please Dean, don't! You said you were just going to talk  to him” Dean looked at her, his jaw tight as he let out “Wait here” he got out before she could answer, made his way to the front door, with one last glance back at her, he kicked in the door. He didn’t wait for the coward to even react, his fist met his jaw, and he kept punching, the groans and moans coming from the burly looking man, didn’t make Dean stop, as he kept hitting the man over and over he kept repeating “you think your a man, beating up a woman?” he growled “you're a weak ass coward, lifting your hands to a woman who you were supposed to protect and love”.

Dean picked up the man by his shirt, “you’ll leave her alone, got it” he warned, letting go of his shirt, making the man fall to the ground in a bloody mess. Dean started to back up, the evidence of the beating evident on his knuckles. The burly man on the floor reached for his gun firing at Dean, grazing his shoulder, with a loud painful grunt Dean pulled his gun, and shot him. Walking out to the porch, took a seat and held his shoulder, the blood trickling down his arm, she got out of the car, and ran to him “Your hurt, oh my goodness, I’m so sorry” he lifted his hand to slowly cup her cheek, softly “He’ll never hurt you again” “but your hurt Dean” he smiled “It was so worth the injury though” sounding brittle “how can you say that?” he stared into her eyes “because sweetheart now you can heal” she burst into tears, throwing her arms around his neck, muffled “Thank you Dean, thank you” he didn’t reply he just held her until the sirens and blue and red lights appeared.

Yes he might be in jail now, but she comes to visit him every moment she gets, and if he has to be honest being here, is a whole lot better than where he sent that coward, But every single time she comes to visit him, seeing the lighter version of the woman he met that night six months ago, makes him realise it was all worth it, and if he could choose? Well he will do it all over again, yes he would, no one ever deserves to be abused or mistreated, they should be loved and cherished. A smile on his lips, a glint of tenderness in his emerald eyes, realising what day it is, he’ll see her again today as she comes to visit, the trace of those whiskey scar’s well it’s nearly faded. The guard letting him know he has a visitor, as he walked closer, he smiled as he saw the radiant beauty he saved that night.

@jackles010378 @winchesterwild78 @k-slla @angelbabyyy99 @cevansbaby-dove @bookishtheaterlover7 @pia-bartolini @cutedisneygirl

[nathanielzalexandria]

Fannon Steve Harrington is such a "you never asked so I never explicitly said (because I thought it was a known fact/obvious and I wasn't hiding it and I did mention it)" girlie and I appreciate it...

So here's some rambly angst.

The fall of 1984 was an absolute fucking nightmare for Steve. He had no friends, no girlfriend and no parents and the upside-down returned. To be fair, by simply choosing to be and stay with Nancy after last year was the main reason why most of his friendships by virtue of Steve pulling away. Nancy cheating on him and then leaving him for Byers crushed his soul and self-esteem but he should have seen it coming when he returned to school after missing a week to attend his parents funeral and she didn't acknowledge any of that, only focusing on the guilt eating at her from hiding Barbs death from her parents. It had crossed his mind to bring it up to Nancy what was going on in his life but... when they died in that accident it was all over the news and he had told her he was going to Italy to bury his parents.

His father Aidan Harrington, an Irish Hawkins born, was a famous international operatic tenor. It was during the production of La Traviata that his father met his mother Emilia and their romance and careers grew from there. They eventually got married and had their baby Stefano Harrington. So for the first few years of life he travelled with them to different productions until they eventually settled down into semi retirement until he turned 14.

It was Steve that pushed his parents to get back into opera once he entered high school. He was old enough to take care of himself and he had a phone so he could call every night. So when they died in a car accident on their way from the Opera house in Italy, Steve in that moment couldn't help but blame himself for their death. The crash was plastered over screens and the papers as the music community mourned heir loss and the funeral in Italy doubly so -now with his face attached. And for that week, he didn't cry

He had expected when he returned some acknowledgement of the event but, other than one band geek with the curly hair, that did not happen. So he did what he did best, ignore it and go to a party with Nancy on Halloween. Then everything with the upside down unfolded and there was no time.

By the time he returned from the hospital to his empty home, he broke down. He was now completely alone with no support system. Its probably why he reached out to Owens for a therapist. If it wasn't for Dr Kelly... Steve wasn't sure if he might have stayed around long enough to meet Robin and he certainly would not be around to save Eddie...

Which is how he ended up here.

In the hospital.

In a hospital bed and the rest of the party stuffed into the room.

El and her group had arrived at the hospital half an hour before and were exchanging stories from the past few days. Apparently, El was kidnapped, had regained her powers and was able to stop Vecna with the help of the guy with the amazing silky hair. Steve just watched them from the bed, trying not to move too much

"Xiomaro Argyle. But I prefer Argyle, dude" the man with the long silky hair introduced himself to Steve. somewhere in the background, Steve hears someone say, "his name is Xiomaro?"

"Stefano Harrington, but everyone calls me Steve," he replied. One of the kids echoed Stefano.

He hadn't expected Argyle's response. "Wait -like that opera couple my yaya always listens too? What were they called?"He paused as he racked his brain before snapping. "Adrian and Emilia, right? My grandma was crushed when they died in that car crash. She light's a candle for them every Dios de los Muertos. Sorry about that bro."

And at that, Steve's world froze, because this was the first person other than his parents to say those words to him. He quickly wiped the tear from his eye before the other's could see. He hadn't realised that the room had quieted.

"YOU'RE PARENTS ARE DEAD?" Dustin yelled.

Steve barely had the chance to speak when Nancy cut in, angry, for some reason.

"When did this happen and why didn't you say anything? Jesus H Christ, you're always hiding from your feelings like some macho idiot and you neve confront anything!"

Nancy had continued to berate him but Steve zoned out. Chest feeling tight with the boiling anger growing behind his sternum.

"I. did." He interrupted simply.

"No you didn't."

"I did because

You were still my fucking girlfriend at that time and it would be shitty of me not to tell you

I had to go to Italy to bury them at my mother's family cemetery according to their will. It would be wrong if I didn't tell my girlfriend I was going to be missing a week of school and why. Which I did the night I learnt about their death and I came by your house."

Nancy faltered a bit at that, losing some of her righteous fury, but she pressed on. "I would remember something like that, Steven"

"No you wouldn't. The same way you can't seem to remember that my name is Stephano and not Steven even though I told you that and it was all over my stuff home."

Her mouth clicked shut at that and an embarrassed blush covered her face. On a normal day, he would have stopped there and maybe vent to his therapist but he was still raw from the past few days and Nancy toying with his emotions only to forget about him once Johnathan came back.

"Okay, let's say I didn't tell you. My parents' death was everywhere including their funeral and you didn't see it although you always read the papers. I was not in the country for a week, which meant I was not at home for a week, and thus not in school for a week and you didn't notice that I your then-boyfriend just disappeared? You didn't think to question where I was, if you did notice, when I got back?"

There was no answer. He couldn't stop the bitter laugh from bubbling up

"Fuck. You really weren't paying attention to me? I just thought you were feeling guilty about barb and trying to fix things for her parents which is why you didn't say anything. Not just that I registered so low on your list of importance that my words just flowed into one ear and out the other."

He was getting worked up and his therapist would be disappointed that he didn't stop there. "And what about the rest of you? You saw my parents and just what? Assumed they abandoned me or something?"

The silence was now suffocating, and Steve could not stand their ashamed looks at each other.

"And none of you asked me any questions about it?

"You know what? Fuck you, Nancy! You're standing there on your pedestal, calling me a "macho idiot" that I'm hiding from my feelings as if I would have had anyone to talk to seeing that you and Johnathan avoided me once you started dating. Newsflash! That's why I have a fucking government therapist I see every Wednesday since 84!"

He let the last statement hang heavy in the air like the sword of Damocles over the group before deflating and flopping back In his hospital bed, emotionally spent. Eyes glued to the ceiling.

"Everyone, just... just leave."

He waited until he thought he heard everyone leave and looked back down, startled when he saw that Eddie was still in the room.

"Don't be too hard on the shitheads for too long. For all their collective intelligence they are still a pack of idiots too sure of themselves to not consider that surface-level Steve is all that exist."

Steve said nothing to that, already feeling shitty for blowing up on the kids, and a little less shitty about blowing up on Nancy.

"Anyway, you also seem to forget that I wished you condolences that week so maybe yoy should not be too hard on them."

At that, Steve focused on Eddie, wracking his brain and being confused with its results.

"You were a band kid?" Steve asked incredulously

Eddie lazily shrugged, "It was a phase. Now, seeing that it seems that you have it on your chest heavy enough that just hearing their names almost made you cry; tell me about your parents, Stevie."

In Steve's chest, he felt something... Flutter.

--------------------------------------------------

This one got away from me, but this is all I have. This is slightly inspired by a post I saw from piratefishmama about Steve having good parents and everyone just assumed they were bad people even though they never asked him any questions (it's deleted; don't look for it). And don't ask me why they are opera singers my brain just latched onto that being their profession and why their death was everywhere.

[stingraysims]

Jirai Kei, a lookbook (and cc masterlist) 🎀🖤

bows | top/skirt | socks/shoes

headband | top/skirt | socks | shoes

rose acc | bows | top | skirt | socks | shoes

headband | neck bow | top/skirt | socks | shoes

headband | necklace | acc top | top/skirt | socks | shoes

shockingly enough i'm still alive, my sims hyperfixation is just constantly going in and out of dormancy :') decided to return to my roots by doing a lookbook, this one inspired by jirai kei/girly kei/dark girly fashion! i've also put together a list of all of the jirai kei-esque cc i found while making this lookbook which you can find here! i always find a lot of cool cc while making lookbooks but i don't end up using all of it so i figured a list like this might be helpful 🖤 all content included in the list is free to download!

thank you cc creators! @eunosims @usamarusims @kikiw-sims @lin-dian @jius-sims @yaya-maya-sims @asansan3 @newen092

[vanillaxoshi]

Elementals Seperated - 45 second hug

Halilintar had hoped Boboiboy wouldn’t do anything that completely disregards his survival when he was gone.

Who is he kidding. This is Boboiboy, the same kid that did everything for his friends, who fought machines and weapons many times his size. Of course he would go after them. Of course he would fight Kaizo. And he actually won.

Well, too bad Fang had to face Ying and Yaya’s wrath, but he’ll live. Aliens are very sturdy after all.

It’s embarrassing really, but this is the least he could do right now. Boboiboy had prodded him about it a few times too. A little positive reinforcement should be good? He also made sure his brothers aren’t around, they’ll tease him about it til they implode or explode someday.

“After a short evaluation of your performance in the battle, I believe it’s only fitting there’s a reward for it.”. His master has a rather suprised expression when Halilintar said it. He wonders why.

“Ah, sorry. I didn’t expect you to compliment me like that” Boboiboy giggled while scratching the back of his head.

“What did you expect?”

“You usually lectured me about being reckless and all…”

“It’s true that I still want you to have more self preservation, but I’ll let it slide this time. You and your friends… You did well. So I’ll let you hug me for 4 to 5 seconds”

As soon as Halilintar looked at his master again, he regretted saying that.

“45 seconds?”

“No-“

“Too late!”

Just like that, Boboiboy now has his arms wrapped around him. The spirit of lightning could only sigh. Prying him off isn’t an option, he’s stubborn, and he doesn’t want to hurt him either. Stuck in a hug (that he doesn’t want to admit is nice) it is then.

“Alright, but you’re letting me go after 45 seconds”

“Deal”

They stayed there, both silently counting the time. Eventually, Halilintar made it known 45 seconds has passed

“Sorry about that! I just thought you could use a longer hug too”

“What makes you think that?”

“Intuition?”

“Your intuition is impulsive”

“It’s quick thinking!”

“There’s a difference between quick thinking and impulse”

Halilintar had hoped Boboiboy would have some form of survival instincts after all this time, but it seems such instincts are fickle.

For example, now. Lightning strikes carrying devastating attacks flying everywhere. With an unstable master and an uncooperative spirit, such destruction is unavoidable. No matter what damage control he tried, this is about as good as it gets. Yet, Boboiboy and Rimba, his master and his brother still pushed on.

It amazes him how impulsive, yet brave plans Boboiboy come up with are. Instead of simply waiting this time, he reached for them as well, felt the pull of the drain, and the lightning elemental was out of the blade.

Boboiboy Rimba felt a pair of arms around him, and it was indeed, Halilintar. Warmth, suprise, joy all at once. Hali is back.

They would have hugged longer if the situation allowed it, but that will have to wait. He returns to the watch where he belonged, where his brothers are waiting.

“It’s over now, Kira”

- By SP Anon, in celebration of Gur’latan arc coming to Webtoon!

Hugs

[kechiwrites]

YOU SAID YOU WANT CAPTAIN PRICE STUFF?? welll sheeeit idk, price giving you a ‘goodbye’ before the mission the best way he knows???? 😩😩😩🥺

Oh Captain, My Captain.

captain john price x reader

synopsis: your husband gets deployed, you get some dick. it's the natural order of things.

cw: afab!reader, no pronouns + gendered language, anal, like a lot of it, married people being freak nasty as they should, cunnilingus, established relationship, fingering, my blatant disregard for spellcheck or grammar, no use of y/n ever, mdni (seriously...stop.)

an: gotta get my yayas out somehow, i can't believe i havent written about him or soap yet. quick someone bring me a soap idea too. thank u so much my angel Val, this sparked joy in me fr. also price is 40, no i dont take criticism, the cod team told me, my uncle works at nintendo.

I'm obsessed with the facial hair, unfortunately. And I just know he's loud. Like really loud. Like, no, never in public, because you're getting found out, loud.

Him saying goodbye goes much like it always does. It's customary at this point; he gets deployed, you're worried about your husband dying in some secret op in the middle of nowhere, you ask him to leave you a creampie to remember him by. As if he won't be back to fuck you into unconscious when he returns. You promise him a night of his favourites. Pussy and ass.

Between the mustache and the way that man groans into the lips of your pussy, getting eaten out by Price is literally a heavenly experience, a brush with God, feels more like a treat for you, but by god does the Captain get into it. He likes it best when you lay back, lower half hanging off the bed, with him on his knees between your thighs, your legs over his shoulders and his slicked up thumb rubbing so insistently, ardently at the furl of muscle below your cunt.

You know what, in fact, you're hard pressed to remember a time you and John fucked where his hands haven't drifted down your back to grip at your ass, pulling the cheeks apart to toy with you, dragging the roughened pads of his fingertips over where he's split your pussy open on his dick, up, over your taint before playing with your rim.

You can, however, remember the first time he'd sank the red, leaking tip of his dick into said ass. He'd been patient, kind, generous with loosening you up, continues to be so. Letting him in where he likes it best is an arduous process. That night, after a short, gruff talk about boundaries and limits, and a kiss on your wedding ring, he spent the two hours before the act, sucking at your clit with military precision, sliding his fingers in and out of your messy cunt, until you came. And then he did it again. And again. Until you were soft and pliant and fucking delirious. When the time came, it'd been pressure and pain that with time and so much effort, eventually devolved into sin soaked pleasure. His cock is thick, blunt tipped and brutal, so the Captain had to work you open in long, languid strokes, while he pawed at your midsection, keeping you in place, hands steady and sure. You're just getting used to push and pull of him thrusting into your ass when he comes, huffing and moaning into your shoulder, while he blankets your back, his facial hair tickling at your neck and shoulders. Even with his voice muffled against your skin, he's noisy, groan tapering off into a whimper and a sigh as he grinds against you, filling you in the most unfamiliar way.

I figure goodbyes with Price go a little something like that.

i write "mrs. captain john price" on my lisa frank notebook in pink gel pen. also i think his dick is like thick in a scary way, like average length maybe less, but obscenely thick. :)

support city girls, reblog what u like.

[starlightsaphron]

Ok here we go my Lengthy Evil Bees Schnees Headcanon Timeline > before going to bacon academy yang transitions. Her life issues force her into donning a mask of what she thinks she Has to be as a woman and as a person. Still “likes men” because its part of her mask > weiss attends bacon academy > weiss realizes she likes women > weiss goes to the only girl she can peg (hah) as being queer for help > yang > yang goes “WHAT NO I DONT LIKE WOMEN I LIKE MEN IM CIS HAHA-fuck” > weiss goes “okay well. Do you wanna. Learn how to. Gay. Together.” then forms a secret QPR with yang, slowly becoming closer and closer friends, but with a lot of bullying because they both think its funny > yang begins to catch feelings for blake, and discusses this with her bestie weiss, and weiss goes “yeah absolutely, that sounds wonderful im glad you found someone you really do love :)” and the first drop of jealousy forms > yang goes “im going to ask blake out after the vytal festival” and weiss goes “yaya woohoo” > volume 3, occurs. > yang loses her best friend, her crush, and is fucking destroyed emotionally. > weiss looses her two best friends (ruby and yang) and her entire support group (everyone else) and has to figure out what to do again > vol 5 occurs, and yang and Weiss are reunited as besties but dont have time to really talk things out until The Conversation about Blake. > Post this they kinda. Just a smidge. Qpr it up in secret just so they can both get a little support. > vol 5 sees the reunion of blake into the group and so weiss and yang dont get as much time together as they used to, causing weiss’s jealousy to build until vol 6’s train crash and other things start piling up. > Vol 7 has some free time but most of it is spent training so weiss’s jealousy builds unknowingly to her, while she watches the bees start bumbling more and more, as she doesn’t recognize why shes feeling uncomfortable with their flirting (see: "YEP" when jaune invites ANYONE out) > vol 8 has so much shit in 2 days the only thing to happen is weiss losing yang but she cant even focus on that because the Bees are Bumbling and blake ALMOST kills herself but weiss goes “haha my best friend who i have No Feelings For would kill me if i let her crush die as well HAHAHA” > vol 9 happens and Weiss is too upset about losing the entirety of her country n shit to really care until the bees FINALLY bumble, in which she goes “haha. Yay. Yang did it. Why do i feel so alone. Hah. Haha…” and it finally clicks, but ruby’s breakdown immediately happens after this which becomes a significantly higher priority > once they return from the ever after is fair game (haha qrow and clover lol) so idk maybe while they hang out in vacuo weiss finally goes “bitch scoot over… i love yall” in a really awkward but heartfelt conversation and yang goes “yay!! I missed being able to do stuff with you” and blake goes “ive read enough fanfic to tell you were struggling” and then the bees schnees are born, OFFICIALLY

I love this idea so freaking much. I hadn’t even thought of QPR freezeburn before beeschnees before and I love it. Especially though the angle of Yang and Weiss’s personal exploration.

I’d love to read a full fic about this

[ae-neon]

The House of Mirrors

Chapter 12

Rhys watched his mother clear dried leaves and dust off the inscribed slab of his sister’s grave. It was flat, plain, marked with only her name - Antonia Demitza-Velarius - and a single, eight-pointed star, for the name she'd been known by: Seren.

There was not much to be done with graves in Illyrian culture, if one had one at all, except to keep it clean. Their love and grief was kept at home, their departed honoured with shrines of oil and incense. But their father had wanted his own ways to be honoured too, and so a simple grave had been prepared for Seren on the Velarius family plot in Miryam Memorial Park.

Their mother had never attended to it in the years after Seren had passed but since their father’s death, she had taken on his tradition of visiting it at least once a month.

Rhysand knew it was more for his father than for herself. He had never seen her talking to the grave, weep before it, or hum a lullaby the way he had seen her do at home – sat in front of the shrine where his sister’s smiling portrait was surrounded by flowers, her favourite bracelet and a small bowl of dried apricots.

His phone buzzed and he fished it from the pocket of his coat, just enough to glance down at the text. When he glanced back up, his mother was walking away from the grave and Rhys straightened off his car's hood to open the door for her.

His mother was a slim woman with kind eyes and a sharp face, short-haired and often plainly dressed. Growing up, he’d thought of her as ill-matched for his father, found proof in the failure of their marriage, as many others did. But with age, he now understood it was not that his mother had found herself lost among the stars, but that his father had been drawn in and centred by her gravity. It was so easy to find oneself pulled along by the ebb and flow of business and blood, power and prominence. Easier still to find oneself lost in it.

“Sure you don’t want to sleep off your jetlag?” he asked.

His mother splayed her fingers in front of the air vents, warming them, “If I don’t go, you and Cassie will finish the cinnamon custard.”

Rhys scoffed, “And you should let us. Uncle Dev almost never cooks and you just got back from all the jam and custard and chooka you could want.”

She smiled, “It’s not the same, I was never a good cook, but your uncle makes his custard just the way our Yaya did. I can’t get that anywhere else, not even Illyria.”

They were due for dinner at Uncle Devlon’s and prepared for the traffic they’d have to sit through to get to South Hill, the quiet corner of Velaris that had once been called Little Illyria.

Rhys had always liked visiting – his uncle could be a hard ass, sure, and when they were younger, he and Cassian were just as likely to end up bruised as they were to get along. But South Hill felt the most like home Rhysand had ever experienced. The borough was centred around a temple of Ramiel, red bricked and sat on a hill – it spiraled out into Illyrian style homes, horse meat deli’s, traditional healers, fortune tellers, gaudy jewelers and weavers who charged a fortune for the most ‘authentic’ cliché.

His mother did not care for it – disliked how ‘stuck’ it seemed. But how else could such a microcosm thrive, let alone survive, in a hostile, foreign environment except to lean into itself and resist change?

The Illyrian Rhys, Seren and Cassian had learned in South Hill had been the Illyrian of their grandmothers – proper and poetic, frozen in time by migrant scholars who had brought it while fleeing a fascist uprising. Only muddied when he and Cas had turned eighteen and ‘returned’ to serve three years in the new state’ military – fighting off remnants of the overthrown nationalist regime. There, their 'proper' Illyrian had been adored by the elders of the mountain villages but they’d picked up accents and slang from the soldier boys and city girls.

Next time they came for dinner in South Hill, Rhys decided, he would invite Azriel. Had no doubt his Uncle would take one look at the man’s prison tattoos and draw some personal line. But his mother, Rhys knew, was not nearly as conservative. It was the only reason why he’d even considered moving ahead with the Archeron engagement during her absence.

But she was here now and the sooner he introduced his mother to Feyre and her parents the better. She would not approve of how he had handled things with Nesta, he knew, but the dust had already settled and with it, the widow had all but vanished once again. Whatever trouble she might have been was no longer a threat to him.

•

The wind howled as it swept through the now mostly bare branches of the trees that dotted Miryam Memorial Park, rattling those stubborn few leaves that refused to fall. Nesta pulled her black coat tighter and scowled. Her first day free of mourning garments and she’d had no other colour coat to shield her from the wind.

She took comfort in the reminder that the coat she’d ordered had already arrived in the city and would be available for pick up in a day or two. And that now, if she wanted to, she could simply march down to any retailer and pick the loudest, tackiest clothes they had. Unbound by expectation; not just because her mourning was over but because, after Rhysand’s undermining and her unexplained disappearance from the gala, she had not heard from her mother in days. Not even in the form of a second hand warning passed through Elain. She suspected that whatever had held them together was now – well and truly – broken.

The sound of her heels was swallowed up as she stepped from the concrete sidewalk onto the earthen turf of the graveyard, heading into the field of grey stone. Nesta tucked her chin into the coat’s collar, bracing against another gust as her unbound hair whipped about in a stream of wispy golden locks.

She’d expected to be broken by guilt, crushed by loneliness, but felt numb once more – at least emotionally. Physically: she felt awful, like an open grave might be the best place to rest, and likely looked it too. Seeing Victor again, smelling that familiar cigar and cedar scent, feeling his hands on her skin...it had been too much, too soon.

She’d woken from bouts of restless sleep, covered in cold sweat despite the December chill. Each time she’d end up painfully dry heaving, her stomach torn between clamping down on the painkillers defending against her migraines, and trying to purge the phantom water that haunted her dreams.

The familiar weeping angel came into view, it’s stone face a sculpted reflection of her own. She’d almost laughed when she’d been told the specifics of her husband’s will. It seemed some small proof, every time she laid eyes on the thing, that Tomas had been as clueless in love as she had. Here lay her fool of a husband, loomed over by a winged, weeping wife when his own had put him in the grave with almost no hesitation.

She stared down at the plaque that summarised his existence – name, relations (son, brother, husband), date of birth and death. Only 31 when he died. She almost felt sorry for Tomas. For all the good it had in the end, Nesta knew she would still make the same decision. She would choose Clare.

Then Clare and now Feyre. That comparison was easy enough. But Rhysand was no Tomas. The choice was more straightforward, but the obstacle...

She stood straighter and steeled her spine. Her heart was an simple enough thing to put away, she had years of practice to fall back on. Her mind cleared and began to tally what she knew and what she could guess, variables and likelihoods. This one will be easy, Victor had said. She was not sure it would be but, there was no going back now.

She slipped her phone from her pocket and, careful and cunning, Nesta Archeron stepped into the arena.