#the synchronized tilting i can't

[mortalscience]

bobby & alex - synchronized head tilts

[95rkives]

baby fever⼂k.nj

summary: what was supposedly a peaceful morning stroll in the park, an unexpected encounter triggers namjoon’s intense desire for a baby, turning him into an adorable, baby fever-filled mess.

parings: bf!namjoon x fem!reader

genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff, namjoon is in love

wc: 1.7k

a/n: hi hi! wanted to quickly say i’m on vacation rn, hence the slow updates but! big things are coming soon ;) im so excited to share! for now, i hope u enjoy this short oneshot, im actually so very proud of it, i was giggling, kicking my feet while writing this </3

"according to statistics, the average individual devotes approximately half a year of their life patiently waiting for traffic lights to transition from red to green."

his statement elicited an amused laugh from you, bordering on a light-hearted scoff. you cast a sidelong glance at him, raising your eyebrows in playful skepticism. "well, that sounds like quite a creative excuse to evade obtaining a driver's license."

a soft chuckle escapes him, his hand playfully swaying yours in gentle synchronization as you stroll along the serene lakeside in the park. "it's true," he asserts, meeting your gaze with a mischievous grin, creating a brief moment of shared complicity before you both resume gazing ahead.

"and besides," he interjects, tilting his head slightly in a contemplative manner "opting for bicycling and walking is infinitely more enjoyable, not to mention immensely beneficial for the environment."

you shake your head in mild disbelief, unimpressed by his narrow-mindedness and his pretentious vocabulary. "well then, i suppose i shall retire from my role as your personal chauffeur—in fact," pausing for dramatic effect, you continue, "i'll go as far as relinquishing my license, selling my car, and indulging myself in that coveted prada bag i've long desired."

that prompted him to throw his head back in a burst of laughter, his eyes brimming with amusement as he glanced at you. "so dramatic," he remarked, gently lifting your interlocked hands and planting a tender kiss on the back of yours, releasing a soft breath of laughter through his nose.

a subtle tsk of annoyance escaped your lips, accompanied by a discreet roll of your eyes as your head turns away from him. you find it impossible to suppress the sly grin that stealthily spreads across your lips.

"you know," he begins, his words trembling with a hint of laughter that gradually subsides. his gaze shifts downwards, fixed upon his own feet, attempting to suppress a smile. "i find it incredibly attractive," he admits, a sly grin playing on his lips as he turns to face you once more, his posture slightly bowed, leaving you weak in the knees. "when you're behind the wheel," he clarifies, a gentle laugh escaping his lips as you avert your gaze, feeling a gentle blush warm your cheeks, however subtle it may be.

"oh, so am i exempt from the rules? can i single-handedly destroy the planet?" you playfully quip, a sly grin playing upon your lips as your gaze roams everywhere but his face.

he allows his eyes to linger on the side of your face for a heartbeat longer, before he subtly clears his throat and returns his focus forward. giving your hand a gentle squeeze, he finally responds, his voice carrying a touch of mischief, "yes," he pauses, a slow, confident grin spreading across his lips, "without a doubt."

laughter spills effortlessly from your lips, and you can't resist playfully nudging his shoulder with your own. the gentle collision causes him to stumble ever so slightly, his balance momentarily disrupted, but a massive grin radiates across his face, unable to be contained.

as your attention drifts away from the conversation, a delightful sight captures your eyes. "oh," you exclaim, unable to hide your enthusiasm. "look, ducks!" a grin lights up your face as you observe mothers and children congregating near the tranquil lake, joyfully feeding these charming creatures.

namjoon follows the direction of your gaze, and a gentle smile graces his lips. he steals a quick glance at you before returning his focus to the scene ahead. "would you like to go feed them?"

without a moment's hesitation, your response is immediate. like an exuberant child, you eagerly pull him along, almost breaking into a jog as you make your way towards the spot where the ducks are already being fed.

your hand slips away from his, and you gracefully lower yourself into a crouch near the edge of the serene lake. in perfect formation, ducks accompanied by their adorable ducklings gracefully glide through the water, forming enchanting lines. the sheer cuteness of the scene elicits a delightful flutter in your heart, filling you with pure joy.

namjoon positions himself behind you, his hands casually nestled in the pockets of his jeans. with tender admiration, he gazes down at you, a radiant smile gracing his features, exuding warmth and affection.

"i have no bread," you pout, or at least that's the conclusion he draws from the palpable disappointment lacing your voice.

“i can go get some; there's a bakery not too far—" his words are abruptly halted by an unfamiliar, yet endearingly tiny voice, capturing his attention. it doesn't take long for him to realize that the voice belongs to a little girl who has appeared nearby.

"would you like to share with me?" the little girl bravely approaches you, and your face instantly lights up with a radiant smile in response to her sweet offer. as she draws near, you realize she stands at the same height as you, since you were crouched down, appearing no older than four or five years old.

“oh," you exhale a soft, melodic laugh, your eyebrows lifting in surprise. "you are so incredibly kind," you remark with genuine warmth, tilting your head ever so slightly. her beaming smile grows even wider upon receiving your compliment, her innocent delight radiating in response.

as the distant calls of what appears to be her mother draw nearer, the three of you instinctively turn to face her.

“ava!" the mother pants as she finally catches up, coming to a stop. "didn't i tell you to stop bothering people?" her face adopts a pouting expression, a thinly veiled attempt to conceal her underlying irritation, her eyebrows slightly furrowing.

“but, mom," ava whines in such an adorably plaintive tone that it elicits a shared snicker between you and namjoon. "she doesn't have bread!" she huffs, her frustration evident, prompting the mother to heave a sigh of surrender.

“i'm truly sorry," the woman interjects, her eyes shifting between you and namjoon, offering apologetic smiles. "she's been going around handing bread to everyone she meets—"

“please, there's no need to worry," you assure her, your voice carrying a gentle tremor of laughter. your attention then shifts back to the little girl before you. "how about we feed them together?" you suggest, employing the softest, most endearing tone you can muster, aiming to ignite a sense of excitement in the young one. it proves successful as ava nods eagerly, brimming with anticipation.

with a carefree grace, she positions herself in front of you, leaning back casually against you. in response, you wrap an arm around her, your palm tenderly resting on her stomach. the scene proves to be utterly captivating, prompting namjoon to bite down on his lip in an effort to contain his smile—or perhaps even a squeal. either way, he finds the sight undeniably adorable, melting his heart in the process.

the mother approaches and stands next to namjoon, casting a smile in his direction before her gaze shifts to her daughter and you. her eyes brim with curiosity as she poses the question, "girlfriend? wife?"

although caught slightly off guard, namjoon responds with a warm smile, a sheepish laugh slipping past his lips. he looks down at you once again, his eyes sparkling with affection and adoration. almost dreamily, he confirms, "girlfriend." the woman chuckles softly, captivated by the enchanting connection between the two of you.

completely unaware, you wholeheartedly engage in feeding the ducks with ava. together, you toss pieces of bread onto the lake, captivating the ducks' attention. to your sheer joy, one of the ducks emerges from the water and gently takes bread from ava's hand, prompting her to squeal in pure delight. your laughter harmonizes with hers, forming a symphony of happiness and carefree bliss.

namjoon's heart leaps, skips, and dances within his chest, each beat amplified in intensity. the way you engage with ava, emanating an innate gentleness and kindness, strikes a chord deep within him. it's a tender scene that tugs at his heartstrings, leaving him captivated by the beauty of your nurturing nature.

lost in his captivated state, namjoon remains oblivious to the fact that you have risen to your feet, gracefully making your way towards him. only when ava runs back to her mother's embrace does he snap out of his reverie, his gaze shifting to you as you approach him with a gentle grace.

you come to stand beside him, and almost instinctively, his arm drapes over your shoulders, drawing you close as you face the mother and daughter together.

“now, say thank you,” the mother playfully prompts ava, gently swaying her in her arms. her smile extends towards you, and in a shy, sweet whisper, ava utters her gratitude, causing your heart to soar with joy.

“thank you," you reply, placing emphasis on the word 'you.' "without you, i wouldn't have been able to feed the ducks." your smile radiates with warmth and tenderness as you gaze at the little girl, a soft giggle escaping your lips, filled with genuine appreciation and delight.

engaging in heartfelt conversation, you share a few more words with the mother, building a connection even in the brief encounter. the exchange concludes with beaming smiles that radiate warmth and gratitude, as you bid each other farewell, the memory of the delightful interaction lingering in your hearts.

as you observe them walking away, namjoon's gaze shifts towards you, a sly smile gracing his lips. his hand tenderly caresses your shoulder, moving up and down in a soothing gesture as he speaks. "you would make an exceptional mother,"

the tone of his voice catches your attention, drawing your gaze to meet his. as you lock eyes, you notice the way he slightly purses his lips, a subtle but unmistakable sign that he's trying to contain a smile. with a knowing glance, you quickly catch on.

“absolutely not.”

“wait—” he bursts into laughter as you shake his arm off your shoulders and begin walking away. however, he swiftly follows suit, reaching from behind to wrap his arms around you, creating an endearing obstacle that makes it more challenging for both of you to walk

“you're absolutely insane," you playfully groan as he showers your neck, shoulder, and cheek with gentle kisses. he nuzzles into your hair, emitting a soft giggle that resonates with warmth and affection.

"one child won't hurt," he whispers softly, his words carrying a hint of mischief. you start to wiggle in an attempt to break free from his embrace, but he only tightens his grip around you, refusing to let you escape his affectionate hold.

[sugurusbabygirl]

can you do virgin yuugi x virgin reader !!

Well of course <3

He's not nervous per say. More just, quaking with excitement. You'd been building up to this, doing a little more each time you see each other. The intimacy growing between you two, the love, the trust.

He's holding both your hands in his, pressing them into the mattress on either side of your head. As he finally pushes into you, he lets out a shaky breath, catching himself as his chest presses against yours.

"Shit b-baby..." He mumbles into your shoulder, gripping your hands tighter. His hips grind into yours almost mindlessly, like he's not in control of himself.

It hurts. Not unbearably, but enough to make you tense up. Yuji freezes, keeping his eyes on yours, searching for a sign that he should stop.

"I...I'm okay." You whisper to him with a small smile. "Just, need a second."

He nods, returning your smile as he lowers his head back into the crook of your neck. Your muscles begin to relax as he peppers your neck with soft kisses, sucking gently here and there. He practically sighs as he feels you relax around him, running your fingers up his hand to latch onto his shoulders.

With your say so, he starts moving. Slowly rocking his hips into yours. Each thrust sends a wave of newfound pleasure through him. He drops his head against your shoulder, his breath coming in short gasps.

"Fuck, y/n." He chants again and again. "Feel good?" His question comes out more like a whisper as he finds himself lost in the feeling of you sucking him in.

You nod, equally breathless, waves of a foreign pleasure cresting over you and sending goosebumps over your skin. "So, so good, Yuji."

He smiles into your shoulder, pushing against your joined hands to prop himself up. He can't believe how beautiful you look under him, squirming and gasping out little moans with each of his thrusts. As much as he wants to, he doesn't dare speed up. Not when you look this incredible. Though, he nearly looses his composure when your nails dig into his shoulders. A particularly harsh push of his hips makes your whole body jerk, a high-pitched whine falling from your lips.

Yuji groaned. "Sound so beautiful, baby." He keeps his pace, smiling down at you, unable to look away.

A light blush crosses your cheeks. You turn your head, feeling embarrassed. But he follows your movements, craning his neck to lean with you to capture your lips in a passionate kiss. He disconnects one of his hands from yours and brings it to cup your cheek. Your lips move in perfect, slow synchronization together. It's enough to make you feel as though your embarrassment was unfounded.

As he breaks the kiss for a breath, never letting his hips stutter at their slow pace, you take a gentle hold of his wrist. He tilts his head curiously as you move his hand down between your bodies. He chuckles softly, giving your neck a gentle kiss when he realizes what you need.

His fingers make quick work of finding your little bundle of nerves, rubbing small circles, eliciting more high-pitched moans from you.

"Better?" He coos, feeling more confident by the second.

You nod vigorously, slowly grinding your hips against his fingers as his thrusts keep their slow intimate pace. It's heaven. The pleasure growing more and more intense, that familiar coil tightening in your stomach. You gasp, arching your back as he moves.

"Y-Yuji, Yuji..." Your voice is quiet and breathy. He watches with a sweet smile when your eyes roll back.

"What, baby?" He asks, feigning ignorance, pressing his fingers harder onto your sensitive bud.

"Shit," You whisper, getting agonizing closer to the edge. "Gonna....oh god...." Your nails dig into his shoulders, sliding down to scratch his back, earning a low groan from Yuji.

"Gonna cum?" He finishes your broken sentence. He was trying so hard not to sound smug. You just looked so pretty falling apart for him like this. God, it was addicting.

All you can do is nod, vice gripping his arms. He doesn't let up, keeping his slow and steady thrusts, drawing quick circles on your clit. It was all enough to make your head spin. Your cries and moans became haggard and uneven. Higher in pitch as your eyes squeezed shut. Your orgasm finally built to its climax. So close....so close....

"Cum for me, y/n." Yuji groaned in your ear, pulling back to watch you come undone. You gave one final cry before letting go. The pleasure was so intense, like nothing you'd ever felt. Your body tensed as you came, jolting and jerking against him as he slowly fucked you through it.

He finally pulled out, but just barely. Admiring your flushed face and shaking body from the aftershocks. Without time for you to respond, he took you hips in his hands and flipped you onto your stomach. You whispered out his name, still trying to catch your breath.

"Please baby." He pleaded with you, leaning over you to croon into your ear. "M'not done yet." He kissed down your spine, grinding his painfully hard cock against your soaking slit. "Wanna hear you like that again."

You sighed as he pushed back into you, burying your face in the pillows.

Oh yeah.

He was addicted.

masterlist <3

[lxndonorris]

piggyback - Pablo Gavi

Y/N x Pablo Gavi Theme: Fluff Pablo offers you a ride when you hurt your ankle x word count: 980+ open for requests! :)

It is a crisp morning, the kind where the sun peeks through the trees, casting long shadows on the park's winding pathways. You and Pablo are out jogging together, as you often do. It has become a ritual of yours—something about starting the day side by side, moving in unison, feels grounding and intimate. The air is filled with the faint smell of damp earth, and the distant chirping of birds creates a peaceful background score.

You are both dressed for the occasion. Pablo is wearing a black tank top and running shorts, his toned figure effortlessly cutting through the cool breeze. You match the vibe with a fitted workout top and leggings.

Side by side, you move at a steady pace, your synchronized breaths punctuating the sound of your sneakers hitting the gravel.

Pablo keeps glancing at you with that boyish grin of his, teasing you about how you are struggling to keep up.

"Come on," he says, his voice light and teasing. "You're not tired already, are you?"

You roll your eyes, trying not to let him see the faint smile tugging at your lips.

"You're just showing off," you shoot back, your voice a little breathless but playful.

He laughs, his eyes sparkling. 

"Maybe," he admits, his tone mischievous. "But only because I know you can handle it."

You round a bend in the path, and you feel your foot catch on something—a raised root maybe. Before you can react, you stumble.

It isn't a dramatic fall, but enough to throw you off balance. Your ankle twists awkwardly as you try to steady yourself. A sharp pang shoots through your foot, making you wince.

You come to an abrupt stop, stepping off to the side of the path and bending down to rub your ankle. 

"Ow," you mutter, more annoyed than anything else.

Pablo is at your side in an instant, his playful demeanor replaced by concern.

"Hey, what happened?" he asks, dropping to a crouch in front of you. 

His hands are gentle as they brush against your leg, carefully inspecting your foot.

"I think I just twisted it," you say, trying to sound casual, though the discomfort is evident in your voice. "It's nothing serious; I'm fine."

Pablo looks up at you, his brows furrowed.

"Are you sure?" he asks, his voice soft but insistent. "Does it hurt to move?"

You wiggle your foot tentatively. The pain isn't unbearable, but it is definitely enough to make walking unpleasant.

"A little," you admit. "But I can manage."

He isn't convinced. 

Straightening up, he places his hands on his hips and looks at you thoughtfully.

"Alright," he says after a moment, his tone firm. "Hop on."

You blink at him, caught off guard.

"What?"

He tilts his head, gesturing for you to climb onto his back.

"I'm giving you a piggyback ride. Come on."

You laugh, shaking your head. 

"Pablo, I'm fine. I don't need you to carry me."

He crosses his arms, his expression stubborn.

"I'm not letting you walk on that ankle if it hurts," he says. "And we're not standing here arguing about it all day. So, hop on."

There is no winning with him when he gets like this, and honestly, his insistence is endearing. Still chuckling, you relent.

"Alright, fine," you say. "But if you drop me, I'm never letting you live it down."

He smirks, crouching down and holding out his arms for balance.

"I'd never drop you," he says confidently.

You climb onto his back, wrapping your arms loosely around his shoulders. His hands hook securely under your thighs, and he straightens up with ease.

"See," he says, turning his head slightly to grin at you. "Light as a feather."

You can't help but laugh, the sound mingling with his as you start moving.

He carries you effortlessly, his steps steady and sure. The warmth of his body against yours and the casual intimacy of the moment make your heart flutter. 

It isn't a long way back to your apartment, but it feels like a little adventure—just the two of you, giggling like kids.

When you reach your building, he pauses at the bottom of the stairs.

"Need help getting up?" he asks, his tone teasing but sincere.

You shake your head, sliding off his back and testing your foot gingerly. It is sore, but manageable.

"I've got this," you say.

He stays close, ready to catch you if you falter, but you make it up without incident. 

As soon as you step into your apartment, you head straight for the sofa and slump onto it with a dramatic sigh.

Pablo disappears into the kitchen for a moment, returning with a small towel wrapped around some ice. He kneels in front of you again, his eye soft as he gently lifts your leg and examines your ankle.

Leaning in, he presses a quick kiss to your knee, then to your ankle, his lips warm against your skin.

"Stay put," he murmurs, carefully placing the ice pack over the sore spot. "You're not moving until I say so."

You can't help but smile at his attentiveness.

"Yes, sir," you say playfully.

He grins, leaning forward to kiss you lightly on the lips before getting up.

"I'm getting us something to drink," he says over his shoulder as he heads back into the kitchen. "Stay there."

A few minutes later, he returns with two glasses of ice-cold water. Setting them down on the coffee table, he sinks onto the sofa beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you close.

You rest your head against his chest, the rhythmic rise and fall of his breathing soothing.

"You're really something, you know that?" You murmur, tilting your head to look up at him.

He smiles, brushing a strand of hair from your face. 

"Only for you," he says softly.

[vvachillessongvv]

Fade Into You

written for the music poll challenge (not even close to 5 sentences- more like 600 or so words)

✨️

“I don't know how you didn't see it.” Wille admits breathlessly, his cheeks blazing, his heart so high in his throat the words almost don't come out. 

“I–” Simon stutters. His lovely brown eyes are impossibly wide, reflecting twinkling lights and flickering candle flame. “See what?”

Wille sighs, bringing a hand up to run his thumb across the sharp angle of Simon's jaw, resting his fingers on the soft skin of Simon's neck wordlessly. Wille watches his mouth drop open the tiniest bit as he leans into the touch and they're so close Wille can feel Simon's breath fan across his face. Wille frowns, his heart twisting in his chest. 

Simon is everything he has ever wanted. If only he wanted Wille, too. But it's impossible to keep it in any longer. Every second he spends with Simon somehow feels like the warmest embrace and the cruelest torture all at once. He felt like he might go insane this entire weekend, being so close to Simon, every tentative smile and brush of fingers so close to what he really wanted to have with him. He swallows and forces out the words that have been choking him for months.   

“That I– I love you.” Wille's voice shakes, and hot tears sting his eyes. This is the end. The end of their friendship, the end of them, whatever fledgling thing that had began to grow between them being squashed by Wille's impulsive words.

Because Simon doesn't feel the same. He doesn't. 

Right?

Except Simon's breath hitches in his throat, and his eyes are shining with more than just the Christmas lights adorning his tree. There's something swirling in them, something Wille has seen before but has never been able to put a name to. It stirs a hope inside of him that threatens to burst the dam in his mind, letting all his repressed feelings for Simon flood out and drown him. 

“Wille.” Simon breathes, and Wille's entire world tilts on its axis as Simon leans forward, covering the hand Wille still has laying on his neck. There's a second between them where time seems to stand still, a simultaneous intake of breath, and then Simon's lips are pressed against Wille's, soft and sweet and everything. His fingers grip Wille's hand while he uses his other hand to grip Wille's shirt and pull him impossibly closer.

They part with a gasp, too soon. “Simon.” Wille says his name between them like an exaltation, running his hand up into Simon's hair, threading his fingers through silky curls. 

“Say it again.” Simon murmurs, his eyes closed. Because Wille knows Simon, knows him to his core, he doesn't need to ask. He leans his forehead against Simon's gently, rubbing circles into his scalp.

“I love you.” Wille replies without hesitating. He feels the words like they're a part of him entirely, like there will never be Wille without loves Simon. 

“I love you, too.” Simon gasps wetly, his eyes shining with tears, his mouth stretching into a wide smile, all gleaming teeth and crinkling eyes. A warmth blooms in his chest, the sweetest ache. Wille feels like he might crack under the weight of this moment, the beautifully synchronized way they lean into each other again, the blissful feel of Simon pressed against him. It rivals every fleeting fantasy he has harbored over the past year. 

Beyond them, a room over, the track-list plays the next song, soft and sweet to match this moment. Simon throws his arms around Wille's neck and nuzzles his face into it, his warm breath sending a shiver down Wille's spine.

He wraps his arms around Simon and squeezes him closer as Hope Sandaval sings the lyrics fade into you. Pressing his face into Simon's hair and inhaling deeply, he can't help but to think that's exactly what's happening.

✨️

[mylovelo-ak]

— crocheting a reversible octopus for the sully brothers

navi

one of the "human" things you loved to do even after becoming na'vi was crocheting. and what better than to crochet your lover a plush?

warnings: a swear word, kind of ooc?

a/n: reader is human turned na'vi; i love crocheting. last post maybe ?? for a few days bc school starts tmr!! haha!! kms!! might have mistakes im hella sleepy

lo'ak sully

— "what the fuck is that?"

you've crocheted lo'ak countless of things before, so he was no stranger to your habit and gifts

but this?

— "it looks like a head with a bunch of queues."

— "lo'ak! how dare you!"

when you finish crocheting he isn't less confused, he's even more puzzled when you start turning it inside out

— "it's reversible! isn't that cool?"

— "sure, if i knew what it is."

you explained that it was a reversible octopus to help him express his feelings

and lo'ak 100% keeps his feelings to himself bc he never wants to "burden" you

def the type to js be all pouty instead of outright telling you why he's upset

refuses to use it at first

— "why can't i just tell you how i feel?"

— "because you hardly ever do, lo'ak."

grumbles and finally gives in

one day you head back to your marui after a long day of hunting w aonung and tsireya

he looks jealous and upset but you can't tell

you js talk to him like normal until you realize he's giving you one-word responses

so u ask him if he's okay and he js

— "i'm !!! mad !!! i used ur octopoo and you still can't tell i'm mad !!!"

turns out the octopoo was hidden in a corner somewhere upset with u [ >:( ]

— "well maybe if you didn't hide the octopus, i could actually give you the kisses and cuddles you want."

starts using it like a voucher for kisses/hugs after that

sleeps with it when he misses you a lot

"lo'ak i'm so sorry—" you stopped, clamping your hand over your mouth to not wake the sleeping boy.

you planned to go stargazing with him a few hours earlier but now it was way past eclipse, and he, unfortunately, had fallen asleep. there was a knot in his eyebrows and a frown on his face. in his arms, the octopus was squeezed tightly, however that didn't hide the angry >:[ glare of it.

neteyam sully

— "is this for me?"

probably watched you crochet a lot

likes to keep track of what you make and helps motivate you

you make him model your work sometimes

— "(name) says this skirt is so slay."

— kiri: "slay???"

he found the octopus very cute, and was willing to try it out

— "so i just turn it inside out when i'm sad?"

neteyam strikes me as the type to be obvious about what he feels, but he wouldn't vocalize it per se, you'll have to be good at catching cues

shows it off a lot to his family

— "look what (name) made me !!"

— kiri: "is that slay too?"

the first thing you see when you go to see neteyam is the sad plush seated comfortably in his hands. he's looking out onto the water, seemingly deep in thought.

"hi, you wanna talk about it?"

he shook his head and leaned against you, head tilted on your shoulder. even though he felt a lot better being able to express his negative feelings a lot easier, he still felt shy about ranting.

but this was more than enough for him, having you beside him, synchronized hearts beating in understanding.

[divine-victory]

Tidbit Tueday

The lovely and amazing @sonofatoasterwaffle shared a wonderful snippet from a WIP they're working on and tagged me to do the same. So here is a snippet from a Friends-to idiots-to Husbands AU I'm working on in which Eddie is helping Buck plan his wedding. 😌

Thank you for the tag 🫶🏻🥰

Buck’s sudden stillness has pulled all of Eddie’s strings tight. He meets Buck’s eye, then. Keeps his stare steady and open. He always wants to hear what Buck has to say. Regardless of how convoluted or long-winded his explanations get, Eddie always wants to listen to him talk. “I told her about a call we had once,” Buck says, and the anxious tilt of his tone is gone. There is something settled in Buck as he continues, and Eddie’s arms tingle at the realization. “An older couple who had lived a happy life full of love for each other. One of them told me that you couldn’t truly find love and had to build a life like that.” Buck pauses and stares into Eddie’s eyes, like he is trying to communicate the weight these words had on him. Eddie feels that weight sinking into the pit of his stomach. The puzzle pieces are falling together, and Eddie thinks he might fall along with them.  “I’m tired of trying to find love, Eds,” Buck says, and his smile turns self-conscious. His words are shy, even though his tone remains steady. “I’m ready to build it.” Eddie feels the world shift around him. He can’t quite tell what changes. But it feels disorienting, like stepping off a rollercoaster with too many loops. “I think I already have been,” Buck’s voice is quieter, and his smile is a lot more reserved. But it is so sweet that Eddie can practically taste it on his lips as Buck looks at him through his eyelashes. “I’m ready to be married.” Eddie gasps at the words, and Buck keeps talking. Directing the rest of his speech to Eddie’s socked toes, Eddie can't hear a word even though Buck's smile keeps getting bigger and brighter and his cheeks rosier. His blood is rushing too fast and too loud. He is so happy for Buck.  At least, he thinks that’s what’s crushing his lungs and making it hard to breathe. It has to be the joy he gets at the prospect of his best friend getting married. Building a life. He is so excited for Buck to have a family. A-a kid. With Natalia. In fact, he is so delighted for Buck that his chest feels like it’s being ripped apart into pieces.  He feels his eyes tear up and tries to hold it back, but it’s too late. A tear splashes beside his socked feet, and Buck whips his head to look at Eddie. His eyes are wide and scared. Eddie hates that look on Buck's face. He hates to be the reason for it to be there, so he forces a chuckle out and wipes the unshed tears away. “They’re happy tears, Buck,” he rushes to reassure him, and he is rewarded with the way Buck’s face softens. “I just can’t believe you rush over to tell me.” “Yeah?” Buck asks, and it is filled with so much hope.  “Yeah, I just feel so lucky,” he says with a smile, feeling his chest clench with the words. “I- I do too,” Buck says so earnestly that Eddie feels like he is intruding. “This might sound stupid, but I–um, can I hug you?” “Of course,” Eddie answers and rushes forward to pull Buck into his chest. They both move to stand up with the embrace in such synchronicity that Eddie can’t help but chuckle as he hurries his face into the crook of Buck's neck. Buck engulfs him in the hug as if trying to absorb Eddie through osmosis. Eddie could swear he feels the phantom touch of lips against his temple, and his heart does something like a pirouette in his chest.

No pressure tags- @jtownraindancer, @buckleyflower, @mbirnsings-71, @icyfox17

[gryfferin-gaybies]

Coping

"I've got you. I've got you." Harry wrapped his arms around Draco's shaking body, holding him tight against his own chest. "Shhh. I've got you."

Draco sobbed in his arms, loud and ugly and unrefined. The sound of his sorrow made Harry's heart break. Harry lowered them to the ground until Draco was sitting between his legs, his back against Harry's chest. His hands went to pull at his hair, a negative response to stress. Harry grabbed his wrists to pull them away so he wouldn't harm himself.

"Draco, breathe. Breathe. It's ok," Harry said into Draco's shoulder.

Draco pulled his knees up to his chest. "I can't," he choked out between sobs, shaking his head. "I-I can't."

Harry felt tears begin to prickle his eyes and he willed them away. "Yes, you can, Draco. Come on. Breathe for me. In . . . Out . . . In . . . Out . . ." He exaggerated his breaths so his chest would move with each one, moving Draco with him.

Draco continued to sob and wail and hyperventilate, but Harry kept talking him through breaths until he seemed to start to try to mimick him.

"That's it. There you go," Harry encouraged, praising Draco for his efforts to calm down. "Just like that, Draco. Just keep breathing with me."

---

"Thank you," Draco said minutes after he'd calmed down, his voice cutting through the quiet, the only sound in the air their synchronized breathing.

Harry had let go of Draco's wrists to wrap his arms around his waist. "Always. It's what I'm here for."

Draco turned his head to get a glimpse of the man holding him, grounding him. His gaze was met with Harry's. He turned in the bracket of Harry's outstretched legs so they were chest to chest. He searched Harry's eyes and then kissed him, rough and heated.

"Woah," Harry said, breaking the contact. "What're you-" He broke off unsure of how he wanted to finish that question.

"Please," Draco said, peppering open-mouthed wet kisses to Harry's jaw and neck. "I need this. I need . . . something." He sucked on his skin where Harry's neck met his shoulder.

"I—" Harry started, his words lost in a soft groan when Draco dragged his teeth lightly against the sensitive patch of skin. "I—Draco, this isn't—I don't—Draco." He held his hands up awkwardly, unsure what to do.

Draco took Harry's hands and put them on his waist. "Shh. Stop talking and kiss me."

Harry pulled away, removing his hands from Draco's body again. "Draco, we can't."

"Why not?" Draco moved his hands under the hem of Harry's shirt, running his fingers over his abs. "Please," he breathed. His tongue darted out to lick his lips.

Harry couldn't stop his eyes from tracking the movement. He shook his head, regaining his focus. "Draco, why are you doing this?"

"Because I want to be distracted. So please, distract me." He leaned back in to kiss Harry again.

Harry wanted to give Draco exactly what he was looking for. His body was already responding to the touch of the other man—the man he'd been secretly in love with for months. It took more strength than he even knew he had to deny him when it was what they both wanted. "Draco." It came out as more of a moan than it was supposed to. "Draco," he tried again. "This isn't a good idea. Merlin, you make it hard to do the right thing."

"Then don't," Draco whispered seductively. He nipped playfully at Harry's earlobe.

Harry tilted his head to give Draco better access to his throat and felt a teardrop fall on his neck. He moved away again, standing this time to back out of Draco's reach entirely. "Draco, you can't use sex to avoid your feelings."

Draco stood so they were on the same level again. "Why not," he mumbled.

"I'm here for you, Draco. I'm not going anywhere. But I love you too much to let you do something unhealthy that you'll regret. I want you. Fuck, I want you. I have for a long time. But not like this."

Draco closed his eyes and let out a deep breath through his nose. He nodded and ran his hands through his hair. "Fine." He stormed off past Harry.

"Draco, wait. Where are you going?" Harry knew the answer. He wasn't sure why he asked when he knew he didn't want to hear it.

"If you won't fuck me until I forget how miserable I am, I'm going to go find someone who will." His expression was closed off. He turned on his heel to continue making his exit.

It hurt Harry to hear him say it. "Draco, please. This won't make you feel better. You know it won't."

"It will in the moment and that's all I want right now." He didn't even look back at Harry when he said it.

Harry felt tears begin to prickle his own eyes as he watched the man he loved, on his way to self destruct, to sleep with someone else. Harry felt like he might be sick at the thought of someone taking advantage of Draco's grief. He felt like he might be sick at the thought of Draco letting them.

[iwaoiness]

Japan is one set ahead of Argentina, and if they win this fourth set, they'll make it to the final. However, Argentina isn’t making it easy for them, returning every point and applying pressure, especially with their blocking. Each play becomes more intense, faster, and overwhelming.

The players move with the fluidity of a river, functioning like a perfectly synchronized machine, not a single misstep. Oikawa Tooru takes a glance at the opposite side; two seconds are all he needs for his mind to plan the next move. As his libero delivers a perfect pass, Oikawa rushes under the ball and leaps into the air to set it. Hyakuzawa stays in front of him while Ushijima and Suna handle the Argentine ace. Tooru grins hungrily, drenched in sweat, and in the last second, changes his stance, sending a powerful spike that cuts through the air like an arrow.

The crowd erupts into wild cheers as the point secures the victory in this set. Oikawa is quickly swarmed by his teammates, ruffling his hair and patting him on the back in congratulations. Surrounded by his team, Tooru glances over at the Japanese bench, his lips curling into a teasing smile as his eyes lock with Iwaizumi’s, who stands with his thick arms crossed. Iwa rolls his eyes but can't hide the soft smile tugging at his lips.

A whistle blows, signaling the short break before the fifth and final set. Everyone heads to their benches, Oikawa nearly jogging with his hands clasped together. However, he stops right in front of the opposing bench, his smile widening as Hajime meets him.

"This isn’t your team, Shittykawa"

Tooru wants to send all hell, jump on him, and kiss him again until their lips ache.

"Can't my Iwa-chan handle having a VNL finalist in front of him?" he gasps dramatically, placing a hand on his chest.

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes with a snort.

"That remains to be seen, idiot"

"Oh! Speaking of seeing," Tooru leans in, tilting his head as his grin stretches wider, alerting Hajime because he knows that smile all too well. "Did you see the foul in the third set?"

The athletic trainer blinks, frowning slightly in confusion.

"The fuck are you talking about? What foul?"

"You know," Oikawa purses his lips for a moment to keep from laughing, "that foul."

“Tooru, I’m sure there wasn’t any foul.”

Oikawa sighs, pouting adorably.

"Wrong! Just ask me again, Iwa-chan!"

This time, Hajime raises an eyebrow.

"Why?"

"Just ask me!" Oikawa repeats, practically vibrating with excitement.

"I swear if this is one of your stupid tricks, I’m going to—"

"Come oooon, ask meee!"

"Ugh, fine," Hajime groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. "What fucking foul?"

And like a tulip blooming open to the world, Tooru’s toothy smile blossoms on his face, sweet, serene, and loving.

"Fouling in love with you!"

Iwaizumi’s eyes widen, and for a second, he feels his heart stop completely before it bursts into a pounding rhythm that shakes his ribs, roars in his ears, and flutters in his stomach.

"You... You are—" Hajime, with flushed cheeks and ears, tries to say something, but he’s left opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water. "How... Just... Argh, fucking damn it!" he finally curses, covering his face with both hands while Oikawa stands in front of him, laughing, loud, childlike, and affectionate.

"Don’t be shy, Hajime-chan!" Oikawa teases a little more, moving in to wrap him in a warm hug, forgetting entirely about the cameras, the fans, their teammates, the coaches, and the fact that they’re going viral (again) on social media.

...

silly thing of my silly boys cuz i need dopamine and serotonin bc my laptop decided to die 3 days ago and i had to take it to the technician and im still waiting for him to tell me if it has salvation and i HOPE it does bc in there are SEVEN years of my life (and my haikyuu fics im crying dont touch me)

but at least i've my phone and can write little iwaoi drabbles for yall #positivism

thank u so so so much today and every day for reading and supporting <33

u can find me on my ao3 🍉

[heeliopheelia]

𝔸 𝕃𝕀𝕋𝕋𝕃𝔼 𝔻ℝ𝔸𝕄𝔸𝕋𝕀ℂ - chapter twenty-five

word count: 0.8k warnings: swearing, suggestive at the very end, making out

For the first time in his life, Heeseung feels absolutely nothing but anxiety as he dreadfully counts the meters that part him from reaching his destination – your apartment. The silence of the 3 am street only adds up to his nerves, causing him to wipe his sweaty hands on his pants.

He almost turned on his heel and ran back home when he finally stood before the door of your block but after repeating Jay's pep talk like a mantra in his head, he pulls out the key that you gave him a year ago and opens the front gate to – soon to be told – hell or heaven.

He jogs up the ridiculously long staircase, so when he finally makes it onto your floor, he has to bend down and lean on his knees to try and catch his breath. And then he looks at your door. Raising his hand up to knock on the wooden surface, he freezes halfway as he hesitates.

"Am I really doing this?" He asks himself in a hushed mutter, gaze switching from his outstretched hand to your apartment for a solid minute. "I'm really doing this," he starts panicking. "Oh my god, I'm really doing this! Jesus Christ! But what if she... What if I- Jay, I'll fucking kill you if she-"

His entire body freezes as a shrill squeak rips from his throat when the door of your apartment opens up rapidly and bangs against the wall, only missing his head by an inch. He hasn't realized that his nearly whisper has actually turned into a full on chatter. Your annoyed and as beautiful as ever face shows up in your lit hallway, frowning up at him with a scowl.

"What the fuck are you doing, idiot?"

And that was all he needed to make his decision.

Surging forward, Heeseung grabs your face in between his warm hands and pulls you up only to smash his lips on to yours the next second. And they're just as soft as he remembered, just as delicate as before, although slightly stiff from the shock now. But he's absolutely convinced that they were molded to fit perfectly against his.

When the momentary stun finally shakes off of your system, you lean into him immediately, arms reaching around his neck and pulling him even closer. Your hearts thump in your chests quickly, synchronizing with your body pressed flush to his. His lips start to burn from the way you nip and suck at them and he feels this giddy pride at the thought that he's the one who taught you all this.

"If it's still unclear, I love you too," he mumbles into your mouth before tilting his head to the side and kissing you even deeper. You're sighing quietly, the soft sound igniting every single nerve in his body. "So much it's driving me crazy."

"That's good," you whisper, eyes tilting open enough to take in his flushed face. Your hand comes up to stroke his cheek lovingly. "That's really good. Got me scared there for a second."

Your precious smile makes him feel weak in the knees, so following his instinct, he lets his heart spill out everything that he's held to himself for all this time.

"I have for a while, you know? You've been tormenting my mind ever since that project we did in middle school." Heeseung grins at the surprise painting in your eyes. "I was so obvious with this shit, I still don't know how you haven't caught up on it. Even all of those choir weirdos know."

You raise your eyebrow and look him dead in the eye. "Oh, I'm sorry but I didn't know that calling your crush a literal building is supposed to be obvious."

"And you asking me whether my ass jiggles or not was?"

Smacking his arm, you can't help but smile giddily. "Still better than yours."

"Let's call it an agree to a disagree. We were really meant to be, huh?" He hums, tucking a strand of hair away from your face. "And I'd really love if you were my girlfriend."

You pout your lips in a mock pondering. "I'm not sure you could afford me."

Heeseung snorts at that and flicks your nose gently. "I said girlfriend, not a sugar baby."

"Same thing, pumpkin," you muse as you jab your finger in his chest. "Or would you prefer baby girl? My sweet little sugar cube?"

Heeseung scrunches his nose and you can't help but laugh at his expression. "Neither, please."

With a stupid giggle, you raise to your toes and wrap your arms around his neck to press a small kiss to his jawline. Pulling away, you're met with Heeseung's eyes and the sheer adoration in them makes your confidence slightly crumble.

"Well, wanna come in?" You ask, suddenly so fucking adorably shy, Heeseung can nearly feel the heat radiating from your face.

But he can't find it in himself to tease you anymore, so with a crooked smile he lets out a quiet yeah before crashing your lips together in a kiss again, lips eagerly sucking on yours as he pushes on you with his body to walk you inside your apartment, then kicks the door close after you two.

And god damn Jay for not trying to make him confess sooner.

ℂℍ𝔸ℙ𝕋𝔼ℝ 𝟚𝟜 .___. ℂℍ𝔸ℙ𝕋𝔼ℝ 𝟚𝟞

𝕄𝔸𝕊𝕋𝔼ℝ𝕃𝕀𝕊𝕋

a/n: cue to jay in the corner sharpening his knife

𝕡𝕖𝕣𝕞𝕒𝕟𝕖𝕟𝕥 𝕥𝕒𝕘𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥 @luvmura @bambisgirl @arizejkt19 @milisabunny @cathy-1997 @satoruskitchenrag @ramenoil @jaylaxies @yoongspi @nichoswag

𝕥𝕒𝕘𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥 (open) @heeseungssidechick @noascats @wonniestars @paragonofroyalty @kaizny @beomsbeanie @iea-tsand @sullyoonooc @magssu @heeheesang @harperwasstaken1 @kxr0mi @msviatrix @msviatrix @wannatinyus @eladandan @casualzo @heart4hees @thatoneembarrasingmoment @mrowwww @r1kitti @gyuszie @ahnneyong @2800 @captivq @wooonkies @heeva @jaklvbub

[ceruleanmusings]

Duende - Unusual power to attract or charm. MelxIsaac

Since you sent me two and I was going to use the other one for Mel and Isaac anyway, I'm combining the two here. Hope you don't mind. This is set during Season 3 Ep 19, Letharia Vulpina. I've been wanting to write my take on this for a while but I haven't gotten far enough in my series so this gave me a great excuse to finally do it! (Also, yeah, this was supposed to be a drabble but drabble's are just suggestions to me at this point.) Duende - Unusual power to attract or charm + Baisemain - A kiss on the hand.

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

He didn't smell like Isaac. Not anymore. The hospital smells certainly didn't help but it was the marred, crawling stretch of burnt and charred skin that cut through his usual sandalwood scent ruining it all.

She forced a smile to her face to keep from crying again. He didn't like whenever she pointed out how good he smelled, or, rather, being able to identify everything he smelled like. When he switched colognes or used a different shampoo or body wash. She couldn't help it. Growing up around flowers, she could pin point any and every floral scent added to hygienic products. And she just liked the way Isaac smelled beneath it all. She knew that scent anywhere.

Her eyelids slammed shut, lines streaking across the thin skin at her efforts to block out the sight of him if only for a couple seconds. Her Isaac wasn't laid up in a bed, unmoving, head tilted to an uncomfortable angle, lips slack, cannula running along his face.

His handsome face.

The same one that, a few minutes ago, a lifetime ago, she'd spied on the other side of that pool of water stretching in the parking lot. The same one she watched painfully freeze in place as the electric currents took over his body, seizing up every muscle, pulling him down to his knees and then to his side. The same one that held his eyes, so wide and blue as the ocean, onto her as his mouth fell slack and he took one, two, staggering steps towards her.

Her breath eased out of her in a slow, stuttering sigh as she opened her eyes again. He still laid there, heart monitors beeping steadily. His chest rose and fell as if he were sleeping, somewhere on the other side of reality she couldn't reach.

Her fingers twitched in her lap. Her eyes raked the expanse of his burns, traced the line down the side of his face, to his long neck, past the shoulder of the hospital gown he'd been placed in, to the soft curve of his blackened arm lying atop of the blanket.

She always loved his hands. Loved how large they were, how his long, slender fingers stretched an curled from his fleshy palms, how the veins popped out the back, stretching tree roots racing to the base of his fingers, how they undulated and twisted as he wiggled and spun a pencil between them in his idle trances, how they could be curled and turn to stone only to soften on her cheek or held within her own.

Swallowing the lump rising in her throat, she reached for him. The blanket, stiff and starchy, scratched against her forearm; the unpleasant sensation quickly becoming and afterthought she she slipped her hand in his.

His skin didn't belong to him anymore, it wasn't cool and soft to the touch like once before. Now it sat puckered and rough, a stranger's hold on her comfort efforts. She waited for him to let out the little gasp he always uttered whenever she held his hand, waiting for him to turn his head and look at their pressed palms and then to her face with a mixture of surprise and wonder.

What if he didn't look at her like that again? What if he didn't wake up? What if...? She brought up her other hand, clasping his large one between her smaller grip.

"Don't go anywhere, okay?" she said. The steady, rhythmic beats of the machine almost matched up with her cadence. She would've appreciated the beauty in the moment if the low buzz by her ear didn't disrupt the near synchronization. "Don't...don't go where I can't go with you. I can't lose you too. Please."

Her words weakened and cracked by the end, eyes burning and itching with unshed tears lining up and waiting for deployment. She sucked in a breath—bad, bad idea, that burnt smell was overwhelming—but it helped moor her if only for a few seconds.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't get to you fast enough." She tried, but everything was happening too fast: Stiles going missing, Isaac calling her to tell her to meet at Stiles' house, "seeing" Stiles trapped somewhere with something on his foot, seeing the backwards 5 in his room, "seeing" Stiles' remnants on the roof of the hospital in a manic state, stalking through the hospital following a woman who pointed her towards old medical files, reading something about dementia, and then rushing outside at the sound of the chaos, the vision disappearing.

And Kira and the electrical cord.... She had time. She had time! If only she'd unfurled her wings faster or...or tried making a jump for it. The water hadn't spilled much by that point. The cord whipped around, sparking and popping, dancing like an angry snake. Almost like it had a mind of its own. And it buzzed and hummed and fizzed, curling and unfurling, spitting sparks. Kira yelled, telling everyone to get back and Allison—

Bzzt!

Melanie jumped, eyes wide and flashing a bright violet, half expecting the monitors to start popping and showering sparks of their own when the loud buzzing landed a heavy thud in her stomach. Her heart raced and her chest heaved and she looked around, the violet easing away. Everything was the same. Nothing was out of the ordinary. Isaac still looked as if he were sleeping.

Her Isaac. The one who pushed Allison out of the way when she tried to help the paramedic.

Allison...

Melanie's teeth clenched and her shoulders bunched and her eyebrows puckered at the displeasure coursing through her. Allison. She went and ruined everything. This was her fault. If she hadn't been so stupid... Didn't she hear Kira yelling for her to stay back? If it weren't for her Isaac wouldn't have...Isaac wouldn't be.

Her fingers dug into Isaac's palm, gripping tightening. His skin squished just slightly beneath her hold.

"She did this," Melanie hissed. "She did this to you. She messed everything up. Again. She hurt you. Again."

Why did she come back? Everything was going fine until she and her father decided to show their faces in Beacon Hills again. After everything they've done? After all the people they've hurt? The people they've killed? Erica...Boyd...

Now Isaac.

No. She wouldn't let her do this to him. Not again. She wouldn't get away with this, batting her big doe eyes, acting like she was so innocent and didn't have a hand in any of this. "This is all her fault," she hissed between her fenced teeth. "This is all her fault. You're here because of her. She just has to take away everyone I care about. But it's okay. She won't win. Not this time. I'll make sure of it.

"Scott wanted us to give her a second chance?" She let out a harsh laugh; it bounced around the room, a haunting boomerang. "I don't know about you, but I think he was wrong about her this time. Death follows her everywhere she goes. I think...I think it's time it catches up to her. What do you think?"

Isaac didn't need to speak. He'd understand. How many nights had they been up talking about his deep hatred for the twins? For what they did to Braeden, for attacking him during school, for goading him during their disastrous road trip, for killing Boyd. Allison's rap sheet was nearly as long. It's about time she had to atone for her choices.

"Don't worry. I'll fix this. I'll take care of everything. And then we can all go back to normal because she won't be around anymore." She brought Isaac's hand up to her mouth, pressing a firm kiss to the back; nauseating and sweet, the acrid scent wafting off his hand stoked the flame burning deep within her.

Rising, spine as shiny as the steel of her resolve, she leaned over and pressed another kiss to his forehead. A low groan seeped out of his mouth, his body tensed, just slightly, and then he eased, slipping back into sleep. Melanie sniffed. Allison would pay for that too.

She slipped out the door to his room, navigating back up from the burn unit and to the front. Rounding the corner, she recoiled and tucked herself away at the sight of them. Melissa and Scott speaking to...her. Allison, tucked into a chair, as if she was having the best sleep of her life. Must be nice. Melanie's eyes still burned from the long laid hours she'd been by Isaac's side. She couldn't sleep while he was in there alone.

"Have you been here all night?" Scott asked, concerned. As if she deserved it.

"Yeah... They won't let me see him because I'm not family." Melanie smirked. Poor Allison couldn't get what she wanted for once. As for her, it was easy; like simply asking for a favor. She charmed her way past the night clerk with a smile and a simple touch to the arm. It was amazing how far her siren power of persuasion could take her. No one batted an eye when she came across nurses and doctors, they just smiled and let her through. They really needed to amp up their security. "I told them he doesn't have any..."

"He's got us..." Melissa said.

Bullshit. Where were they all night? Why were they only checking on him now? Where were the phone calls or the texts keeping everyone in the loop? He didn't have them. He had her.

And if things went well, she'd make sure it stayed that way. Permanently.

[tedelunazz]

baby, al haitham + kaveh

synopsis: perhaps the only two people al haitham feels a slight attraction to are you and his housemate, kaveh.

warnings: hi, I'm back! I hope you like this writing, it mentions drugs and alcohol, the teas are under the effects of drugs and alcohol but nothing too serious.

Al haitham never felt particularly attracted to anyone, neither men nor women, he was totally indifferent to them and never saw it as a priority to be intimate with anyone, never felt that spark of desire for anyone in Sumeru or any other nation.

But even if he doesn't accept it and flatly refuses to accept it, maybe you and Kaveh, his housemate are an exception. And that feeling is even more intensified at this moment, with the two of you facing him, slow dancing and laughing every now and then

"I told them it would be good. Dori never disappoints. " You let out a laugh as you passed the joint to Kaveh and he took a puff.

"Remind me to thank Dori for selling this to you" He gave you a wink and you winked back.

Al haitham sighed as he watched them from the couch in the house he and Kaveh shared, it wasn't much of a distance but it still felt so far away from both of them.

"It's your turn" You brought him out of his thoughts as you stood between the hollow of his legs, at the same time tilting the joint towards his lips. "Be nice to us, okay?"

Al haitham can swear he feels his heart burning inside his chest, that at any moment you and Kaveh are going to pull it out of his chest and start laughing at him.

"This is stupid, Y/n" Despite his words Al haitham took the joint from between your fingers and brought it to his mouth, taking a puff and then letting the smoke out." Are you happy now?

"Very much so, Mr. Scribe." You snatched the joint from Al Haitham but before walking away completely and returning to Kaveh, you deposited a kiss on his cheek." Your reward for being so good."

Al haitham was stunned after that, he felt as if he turned to jelly and was falling apart after being exposed to high temperatures.

He thinks it's not too far from that being reality, with you and Kaveh in front of him, dancing with each other, sharing occasional kisses, he really thinks it's too hot in here.

"I think he enjoys the view too much."

Your words snapped Al haitham out of his reverie and he returned his gaze to the front, where you found yourself hugging Kaveh by the neck and he had an arm around your waist.

"You bet, he doesn't look away for a second. I didn't think you were that kind of guy, huh."

Al haitham swallowed audibly when he heard how you laughed at Kaveh's words.

"You bet. You like us so much you can't take your eyes off us?" You turn away from Kaveh and walk in Al haitham's direction, until you were facing him. "I'll take your silence as a yes."

And without waiting for it, you sat on his right leg and let yourself fall on his chest. Kaveh seeing your actions did not lag behind and repeated your movements but he sat on Al haitham's other leg.

"This is better, don't you think?" You spoke as you gave small kisses on his still clothed chest. "You're a lucky guy, eh."

Al haitham nodded in response and it was true, he wasn't going to deny it, both you and Kaveh were really attractive and anyone would feel lucky to have you both to themselves.

"Do you want us to do something for you, Mr. Scribe?" This time it was Kaveh who spoke, while with one hand he played with Al haitham's graying hair.

Maybe it's because of the alcohol you drank in the past few hours, maybe it's because of the weed you bought Dori and smoked, maybe it's because he's feeling dizzy from having you both at this very moment asking if you can do anything for him.

For him, not for anyone else, just for him and for him.

And it didn't take him long to decide what he wanted, remembering the way they were both dancing in front of him a few moments ago, how sensual and synchronized their movements were despite being under the effect of alcohol and drugs.

"I want you to dance for me, just like you were doing a moment ago."

Neither lazy nor lazy you both stood up without first giving Al haitham a kiss on the lips, first it was Kaveh and then you, you stood in front of him not too far away but not so close that he would touch either of you.

"To make it more fun, we'll take off a garment when our dear friend asks us to." You spoke and they both nodded.

And so began a long evening that ended in more than Al haitham just watching you dance in front of him.

Yes, you could say he just felt this feeling of attraction for the two of you.

[sharky-the-idiot]

The Lilarky Purelily AU- PART ONE

Once upon a time, there were two cookies of the names Shark Vanilla Cookie and White Lilac Cookie. They attended the same school- Blueberry Nonymous Academy- in their youth and spent every spare moment with each other. They had a very close bond, many of those who knew them even mistaking them for being in a relationship! But that was ridiculous, right? ...Right?

White Lilac Cookie had always expressed an interest in the concept of being and individuality, so it was no surprise to anyone when she began a research project that was sure to instigate many existential crisises. She wished to figure out what truly made a cookie, allowing them to have thoughts and whims of their own. After all, every cookie she had met shared a vast array of differences: even she and Shark Vanilla contrasted in many ways, despite their synchronized natures. One summer day when the sun was bright and the air was buzzing with the thrill of being on break, White Lilac decided to pledge the ideas of her new studies to her dear friend.

"White Lilac Cookie!" Shark Vanilla Cookie greeted in his Americookian accent, smiling. He offered a little wave, coming closer. Their height difference was apparent (and somewhat comedic), but the two did not let it deter them, comfortably walking alongside each other down the academy corridors. "What's up?"

"Nothing much," White Lilac replied, pushing a strand of long purple hair over her shoulder. "But there's... Something I've been meaning to ask you."

Shark Vanilla froze, his heartbeat speeding up. What could his friend possibly wish to ask? Redness began to spread across his face as a result of both excitement and the warm summer weather.

"I was wondering..." White Lilac said hesitantly, stopping as the two reached their school labs. "...Do you want to try making a baby cookie with me?"

There was a long pause.

"...What?" Shark Vanilla asked, flabbergasted beyond belief. His mouth was agape in shock, brow furrowing in confusion and discomfort at the idea. White Lilac's eyes widened, and she quickly backtracked.

"Scientifically!" She exclaimed hurriedly. "As- as in, bringing sentience to otherwise lifeless dough! I mean, if the witches can do it, why can't we?"

"Because they're gods?" Shark Vanilla tilted his head, uncertain. "I don't know-"

"Can we please try, at least?" White Lilac requested hopefully. "It's not like it will hurt anyone, right?"

"...Right," Shark Vanilla agreed, relaxing a little more before perking up slightly. "Can we try making goldfish too?!"

"Sure!" White Lilac agreed easily, beaming. She opened the door to the lab, and the two headed in. Little did they know of all that was soon to transpire, or how their harmless experiment would spiral...

KICKING MY FEET AND GIGGLING THIS IS ACTUALLY SO GOOD??? AMERICOOKIAN GOT ME 😭 AND ALSO MY REACTION TO "DO YOU WANNA MAKE A BABY COOKIE" LIKE YES I WOULD ASSUME THE WEIRD WAY AT FIRST

omg goldfish... I'm hungry now...

[astrxlfinale]

sidles in here with a question for you, Jace-- does the nature of the Stellaron prevent Caelus from having strong opinions on the Aeons, given that they're all devoid of morality and provide the same level of power, or does he harbor any favoritism towards one Aeon or another, and if so why?

I'll do you one even better for this Willow. Let's break down his perspective on the matter!

To begin this, it's not only the Stellaron in itself that proves to hold an interesting influence on these matters. While a point you hold is true, in how his lens to them is disconnected, at the same time, I'd like to bring light to Herta Experiments involving the Simulated Universe. When I say this has genuinely either scuffed or brought him to some angle of enlightenment on the matter is a hard call. For while it is all based on Information, the fact that existences like Aha can understand they're within that universe has certainly led to some odd end epiphanies.

Caelus comes into this weird position of trying to find the humanity within those Aeons, these Paths, these powers. It removes him from holding any brand of religious practice then it comes to their existence, for his perception of them could be considered blasphemous and bizarre all the same. Qlipoth's Amber Lord position is merely a title, by no means a root of faith. Those experiments had allowed him to delve into a state of communicating with some, taking the place of Akivili momentarily, and in kind, introducing him to the possibilities that sentience isn't entirely barred by the Primum Mobile.

Could this be fruitless? It very well may be, but there's that connection of where conceptual, imaginary and the regimen of that path finds itself distinct when interacting with the material world. For example--

So to take the above? What brings his favoritism to Aeons as a whole would be this understanding. How they embodied aspects of the living spirit taken to fantastical extremes. It's why even with Nanook, he can never find himself harboring a truth branch of hatred for them either, even after getting such a vivid look of what Yaoshi's influence led on the Xianzhou.

For him, Aeons are a form of human potential, understandably far removed but servings as fountains with their position to give all lifeforms a current to discover themselves in, to hit those unknown heights.

For the Stellaron, while the position of Aeons as entities themselves they can't care less for. There is a measure its invested in, and it'd be the way they'd ignite a torch for human progress to exponentially and allow it to violently bloom as unpredictable scales. So if I were to center this down on how his thoughts cycle on this.

The Stellaron within recognizes the potential of solely the Paths each Aeon herald, their own limited autonomy is ignored.

Caelus's Heart can see/focuses upon the humane traces in that virtually infinite power, the Simulated Universe has influenced his way of thinking, and in kind inspires communication away from their aspects. (In truth, I also think it's rewiring and expanding his sense of perception.)

Caelus's mind tilts closest to the 'no opinion' angle, and this is due to how they're locked existences. Taking an Aeon at face value, they're so far removed but can only look. What he comes to take in a deeper spectrum of thought are the particulars they represent. I picture that people can actively feel the intensity of these aspects while synchronizing with that force.

Though if he were to have a favorite? It'd ironically be Nanook. There's a connection between them that I want to expand on in the future.

On the other hand? Destruction in his mind, in it's many, many ways it can be utilized, is the greatest catalyst for change and the enemy against stagnation.

@everlastiingiimmortals

[dragonedged-if]

Writing Prompt: Inner Demons

So I played Sekiro yesterday and till now my mind is filled with samurai's and katanas lol.

I couldn't concentrate on my IF so I decided to write a snippet.

Also, if you're a writer or a reader you can use this as a prompt to your story or just write for fun but remember if you use it, just give me credit :)

I am standing beneath the towering bamboo trees, seeking refuge from the scorching sun. Despite the shade, the sun's rays still manage to sneak through, causing me to adjust my sedge hat for the third time. Sweat beads form on my forehead, and I can feel the sun's gaze burning down on me.

As I scan my surroundings, I can't help but feel as though the sun is taunting me, shifting its angle to intensify its fiery glare upon me. My skin feels as though it's on fire, and my throat is parched from the sweltering heat.

My hand instinctively reaches for the gourd hanging from my hip. With a quick flick of my wrist, I bring it to my lips and tilt my head back, allowing the cool, refreshing water to quench my parched throat. It's not the smooth, satisfying taste of sake, but it does the job. I'll have to find a proper bottle of sake once I pass through the next town.

With a deep breath, I take a step forward, my feet sinking into the dirt beneath me. The path ahead is uncertain, but I must remain focused and vigilant. As I walk, the sound of rustling leaves and chirping birds surround me, and I take solace in the peace and tranquility of nature.

As the sun reached its peak, a gust of wind swept through the Valley of Whispers, stirring the tall bamboo stalks into a synchronized dance. Their rustling whispers filled the air, resembling the soft murmur of human voices.

The forest earned its name not from its topography, but from the eerie sounds produced by the bamboo grove every noon. Locals believed that the whispers belonged to the spirits of fallen samurai, haunting the valley in search of peace.

I'm never been a supertitious lot but I can say that the whispers are starting to sound more clear as the minute pass by and if you listen close, you can even pinpoint a voice of a little girl.

But I dismiss the thought and focus on the read ahead, no use getting my imagination the best of me.

The wind begins to subside, but the whispers persist, accompanying me like a loyal ally. Suddenly, a blur of movement catches the corner of my eye. My instincts kick in, and I subtly adjust my hat, affording me a better view. My eyes dart to the source of the disturbance, and there, among the bamboo groves, I spot a shadow darting from cover to cover.

My senses are on high alert, and though my mind tells me that the stalking shadow is merely a trick of the forest, I know better. I have felt this sensation before, the feeling of being hunted like prey. Without hesitation, I raise my hand and grip the tsuba of my sword, ready to draw at a moment's notice.

As a ronin, I have traveled far and wide, never once straying from the teachings of my master. Even in death, his voice echoes in my mind, guiding me with his wisdom.

"Kenji, listen to me," he had said. "I will impart to you three rules that allowed me to live a long life as a samurai. First, remember that the sword is an extension of you, a part of your soul. Train it like a muscle, for if your blade is dull, you will surely die. Second, be calm of mind and hone your senses. In this world, there is no good or bad, only those who seek to kill you. And finally, never doubt your instincts, no matter how ridiculous they may seem."

As I draw my sword with lightning speed, my instincts take over. Three kunai knives come hurtling towards me, but I am ready. With the precision and grace of a master swordsman, I deflect them effortlessly, each strike ringing out like a bell.

As I turn to face my attacker, I catch a glimpse of their black shinobi garb, as dark as the night sky. It's as if they are swallowing up the light from the sun. I can feel my heart racing, but my training keeps me calm.

The figure is adorned with kunai knives strapped to their legs, and polished metal balls are hanging from their belt. But it is the mask they wear that truly sends chills down my spine. It is the mask of a red demon oni, its teeth sharp and pointed like daggers. It is a symbol of death and destruction, a warning to all those who cross their path.

I raise my voice, hoping to provoke the mysterious figure to speak. "So they sent an assassin!" I shout with conviction, my hand firmly grasping the hilt of my sword.

The stranger responds with a swift movement, shifting their sword to their left side and drawing a wakizashi from its scabbard. The small sword is like a little brother to the katana, and I can tell this is a skilled warrior.

But the stranger is not finished yet. With two swords in hand, they slowly raise their free hand to their mask. I hold my breath, knowing that revealing one's identity can be a fatal mistake in the world of assassins.

With a deft movement, the mask is removed, and my heart skips a beat. I am face to face with myself. We share the same nose, the same clean-shaven chin, and even the same eyebrows. The only difference is in their eyes, which seem to glow like red orbs, and their pale, almost lifeless skin.

"I have come to claim your soul, ronin!" the assassin growls, their red eyes glowing menacingly as they brandish their weapons.

My hand tightens around the hilt of my sword as I prepare for the fight of my life. This enemy may look like me, but they are not me. They are an assassin, sent to kill me.

But as I ready myself, I cannot help but feel a twinge of fear. This opponent is unlike any I have faced before. They know my every move, my every thought. How can I defeat them?

I close my eyes and bow my head, calling upon the wisdom of my master. "Guide my sword and offer me your wisdom once more," I pray silently.

With a deep breath, I open my eyes and charge forward, meeting the assassin's attack with a fierce clash of steel. The sound echoes through the forest as we exchange blows, each strike ringing out like a thunderclap.

As we fought, I could hear my master's voice in my mind, guiding me with every step. His teachings echoed in my heart, giving me the strength and skill to hold my own against my doppelganger.

"Kenji, remember that the sword is an extension of you," his voice whispered. "Let it flow like water, and strike with the force of a thunderbolt."

With a swift motion, I raise my sword and take a defensive stance, watching as the assassin approaches. Their movements are quick and precise, their two swords flashing through the air like deadly snakes. I can feel their eyes on me, their gaze burning into my skin like hot coals.

The sounds of our swords clashing echoed through the valley as I stood, face to face with my opponent. I was a ronin, a samurai without a master, and my enemy was a skilled warrior, trained in the art of swordsmanship.

With every clash of our blades, my enemy seemed to know my next move. It was as if they could predict my every thought, every action. But I had one advantage: I was not bound by the strict code of honor that governed the samurai.

As my enemy swung their sword towards me, I deftly parried the attack and raised my own weapon, striking them in the face with the handle. They staggered back, stunned, and I seized the opportunity to strike.

I sliced my sword across their midsection, and black blood spilled forth, sizzling in the bright sunlight. I pushed my blade into their stomach and dragged it across, watching as the blood disappeared in a puff of smoke.

But my victory was short-lived. Behind me, I heard the sound of laughter. "Is that all you've got, ronin?" my enemy taunted, rising to their feet.

I turned to face them, gripping my sword tightly. This battle was far from over, and I knew that my opponent was not to be underestimated.

[valiisthea]

[Joshua] 'i can't breathe.'

Angst Memes || Accepting

@fllameshield

Dion is on his feet immediately, almost quicker than it takes Joshua to finish his sentence. There's an urgency in his gaze as a gentle hand comes to rest in the center of Joshua's chest, a means to keep track of the breaths that do, if any, come.

"Slow down a moment, Phoenix." Dion says softly, using his free hand to tilt Joshua's head up so that their gazes may meet. "I assure you, you can breathe. Slow down with me."

Dion takes a few deep breaths of his own, slow and steady to a counted rhythm in his head. He's setting the pace for Joshua to follow, if he is able.

"There, can you synchronize your breaths with mine? I will guide you through until the pattern comes naturally."