#there was something else i was supposed to add in the tags but i forgot what it was.

[saintedbythestorm]

Used that timed trial thing on dragon age veilguard today... and oh boy... 😬

I see every single one of my fears about the game was sadly... true. I am already annoyed by some of the dialog, I absolutely DESPISE that combat (and here I thought inquisitions combat was a pain in the ass...) and I just... cannot for the life of me get into it.

I can't really fully put my finger on what it is (may be a lot of small things, would explain why I can't pinpoint it) but I just... keep waiting for something to hook me, the way dragon age always has before. But I'm getting nothing. So far it does feel too focused on the combat, while combat is boring and quite frankly poorly made.

For example, I remember this early Ogre fight, in a super tight room, where they clearly wanted you to like dodge all the time (WHAT IS WITH ALL THE DODGING?!) and there was like no space to do anything. I was battling the camera more than the ogre. It's like they forgot they got ranged based classes or something, I don't know. Hated that fight.

I'm also very angry they baited us with Varric and I've barely seen the man after that intro bit. The hell bioware...

There has also been some... very odd interactions already. Where my character sounds super upset and angry while just standing there like 😶. Like if you're that pissed I'd expect it to be reflected on the body language but it's just...not? To be honest, I feel like most conversations the characters are veeeery stiff. It just feels kinda ... dead? Like they aren't actually taking part.

And that fucking art style... I was sceptical when they first showed it off... got more worried when they showed more... and I was hoping the story and just general feel would help me get past it... but I can't. I REALLY don't like it. I can't put my finger on why, but it's just really not for me. Something something Varrics hair... no I'm still not over it.

I just... I unno. I want to like it. I mean, it's a dragon age game, of course I want to like it but... I can't. And it bloody hurts honestly.

Now I'm gonna go crawl under something and be upset about it for a bit.

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

How could you love somebody like me?

Pairing: f!reader x Javier Peña Words count: 3032 Rating: + 18, NSFW, MDNI. Summary: Javi is under protection and has asked you to join him in the hotel room where he is confined. When you discover his secrets and lies, however, that room will become too small. Too small for both of you. Tags/warnings: POV second person, no use of y/n, angst, Javi is still a DEA agent but it's a modern setting so the man has a smartphone. Reader is described having female genitalia and breasts, no other description of her is given, she doesn't blush and her hair is not described. Mention of alcohol, mention of cheating, Javi is a cheater, no happy ending, we will go through the man's phone (you're not supposed to do that but I never said my reader could do no wrong, right?), use of pet names (gatita which means kitten in Spanish, baby, darling), smut, angry sex, unprotected p in v (do better irl), cream pie, of course a little nipple play ‘cause it’s still my fic, toxic relationship, self doubt, mention of Steve, a huge pile of lies, Javi is bad at feelings, some reader’s thoughts marked in italics. I think it's all, let me know if I forgot something and I'll add it right away. A/N: Written for @jolapeno 's "Dear-uary" challenge. This was my prompt, I struggled a little bit at first but I ended up having a blast writing this ❤︎ Heavily inspired by this song (from which the fic also takes its title), I heard it randomly on Spotify one day and I thought "wait, this is perfect for Javi!" and I ended up being obsessed with two more songs by the same artist. LOL Many thanks to: - @aurorawritestoescape , my beta, for her help and advice, she will probably dream of elephants because of me tonight hahaha Kate I own you a big one, thanks baby so much, I love you ❤️ - The person who basically pulled this out of my brain and supported me throughout the process, my precious, my peanut @joelmillerisapunk. 🥰 Love you so much it's ridiculous🥹 - @milla-frenchy for letting me blather about this thing some days ago. Love you, bb ❤︎ English is not my first language, every single mistake is still on me, I deeply apologize if you find any.

Edited - because I forgot to change the most important detail, of course. I’m not myself if I’m not doing a mess. Yay. It’s okay now.

“Why the hell am I here? Was I the only available hole this week?”

“No,” he whispers. 

“So what?” 

Javier came back and found you in the middle of the room.

You were brandishing his phone like a sword in the air, the banner of everything that was wrong.

His face went pale when he saw you like that. 

Eyes wide open. 

Mouth agape. 

He tried to say something but you immediately hit him with a vomit of words.

“I know what you’re doing,” you hiss under your breath, feeling your eyes sting.

Javier is a marble statue in front of you, his lips pressed together, his absent eyes not even looking at you, staring at a spot behind your shoulders, his arms abandoned along his sides. 

He seems anchored to the ground. 

His last words to you still burn on your skin like a fire you cannot extinguish.

A heavy silence between you fills the air of the room and makes it unbreathable. 

“Fuck, Javier, talk to me,” you whisper angrily.

You clutch his phone in your hands, so tightly that your knuckles are white from exertion, as if you were clinging to it to keep yourself from falling off a cliff. 

“You knew I was no good,” he says sternly.

You have been in this room for two days. 

Officially, Javier has to stay here because henchmen of one of the new drug lords in town are set on taking him out. 

Unofficially, he has you infiltrating the room. 

Typical Javier, spending his time under protection fucking someone. 

You foolishly almost believed it was romantic, until this morning. 

“So you’re trying to say that it’s my fault? Is that what you want to say? It’s my fault that as soon as I turn my back you go and stick your cock in someone else's pussy?” You don’t even have the strength to scream right now. Your voice comes out rancorous but low, hoarse, like a blown growl. 

Oh, you’re not going to accept being lectured by him, fuck no.

“No, I’m just saying -” he tries to explain and you glare at him, making the words die in his mouth.  

"What?" 

“Fuck, I'll never change,” he shrugs as if it were a truism that only you can't grasp.

His eyes shift to the ground, dull and absent.

“You don't change because you are convinced that you can't,” you admonish him, feeling anger rising from your chest. 

"That's not true," he murmurs, keeping his gaze on the crimson and gold carpet that lies at your feet.

“Yes, it is,” you insist, ”and you seem to like to think of yourself as an incurable asshole.”

He still fails to see the real problem, the elephant in the room that lives and thrives among you. 

"Then you tell me, if you think you know me so well,” he asks with defiance. 

“You bet I fucking know you,” you lash out. “You think you're so mysterious and complicated?! Well,  news flash, I've seen plenty like you. You’re just another man. You're not even that, you're a child. A child who's afraid of his own shadow when it comes to relationships.”

“Don’t fucking analyze me,” he hisses, finally setting his eyes back on you. 

Raven, angry and fearful. He knows you can read him like an open book and this unleashes an awareness upon him that crushes him to the ground.

You bitterly laugh, “Truth hurts, huh? I know something about it”. 

The wrinkle between his eyebrows deepens, his nostrils flare, and his mouth tightens into a line so thin you think he’s about to burst. He stays quiet instead, eyes back on the damask carpet decoration. 

_____________

“Yes, Steve, I'm fine. That jerk won't find me here, and anyway it's full of police outside the door.” 

A pause and a sigh. 

”No, no one followed her, they don't know who she is.”

You stood behind the half-closed bathroom door listening. 

You smiled. 

His voice sounded softer when he talked about you. You lulled yourself into that feeling. 

Until you heard something else. 

A booming laugh. 

Water ran in the shower, tiny droplets coated the wall as the mirror fogged up.

“Whatever. Of course I'm still screwing around. At least, I was doing it before that asshole started chasing me,” his voice suddenly lowered so you took a chance and opened the door a little more. You wanted to make sure you heard right. 

Your hand trembled against the doorknob, you grabbed your wrist to hold it steady. 

“You idiot,” he scoffed. “Yeah, we'll be in touch.”

Suspicion. The black wing of a crow that had been wrapped around your heart for a long time.

But then why did it hurt so much? 

You allowed yourself to hide it in a part of your brain where you never looked-that was a mistake. Making the hunch barely a firefly when it was supposed to be a bright neon sign.

He always places the phone with its screen down when you go out to dinner, softly smiling at it when he checks it after a few vibrations, telling you “it’s Steve” when you ask. 

But you know that crooked smile. 

He dodges when you ask him about his day "oh work, you know, just work." 

He tells you he is with Steve but you hear female voices in the background. 

Every time you try to confront him it always ends the same way, him telling you, “you’re paranoid, there’s no one else, just you, baby. You’re the only one I want.”

And then he fucks your doubts into oblivion.

You heard the thud of the phone on the blankets. And then Javier calling you. 

You swallowed the gall rising from the walls of your stomach and just smiled when he joined you in the bathroom and suggested that you shower together.

You wanted some proof before you charged him. 

If there was anything you had learned from being with him, it was that hard evidence was the key. So you played cool. 

He fucked you against the shower wall and you moaned into his neck. 

He licked your pussy like a man starved and you just bit your lips until you felt iron on your tongue.

He kissed you with that liar's mouth, and you let him.

And you fell asleep beside him, on the unmade bed of your uncertainties. 

This morning someone from outside called him into the hallway to report the latest movements of the guy who was looking for him. 

His phone was on the bedside table.

It was like a magnet, pulling your hand to it.

You were almost sure you knew his unlock code ‘cause you had watched the movements of his finger many times. 

You tried twice without success. 

The third time you let out a long sigh, visualized in your mind the movement one more time and unlocked it. 

You were in. 

Your heart was beating wildly in your chest as your fingers swiped and clicked on the screen. 

And there they were.

Dozens and dozens of messages and pics exchanged with 4 different women.

You scrolled through one of the chats with a certain Maria, who regularly sent him pictures of her tits and her legs spread wide, her pussy in the shot.

There was sexting, arranged dates, same promises he gave to you, things you never asked for but he kept repeating like a broken record. Even the same pet name. Gatita. 

Blood simmered in your veins, a jolt in your heart, throat dry. 

Your finger furiously scrolled through the chat, finding tons of messages he had sent her while he was with you.

You switched to another one and you found pretty much the same. And yet another, message after message containing flirting and explicit sex.  

“Oh Javi, you keep getting better and better with that cock of yours”

“My pussy needs you, darling, can you come over?”

“I can’t stop thinking about your huge cock dripping on me”

And the more you scrolled, the more a question formed in your brain, rumbling through your temples like a deafening drum. 

Was he ever sincere with you?

________

When he looks up at you again, you see it. A veil of fragility in the dense blackness of his gaze.

He looks almost helpless. “I know you tried,” he admits, ”You tried harder than anyone else.”

“Apparently it was no use,” you chastise him.

He doesn’t reply. 

Instead he comes closer and closer. 

You pull back, responding to his every step forward with a backward one. 

“Please,” he whispers. 

“No.” 

“Don't do that.”

“You have no right to tell me what to do,” you bark.

”I know...” 

“Fuck off, Javier, leave me alone.”

You pull back until you hit the wall behind you. 

Javier approaches, bending slightly to reach your mouth, his mustache brushes against your cupid’s bow and you don't even have the strength to turn your face away anymore. 

When your lips collide you let it happen. 

It’s like when you drink too much Tequila. 

It burns on your tongue, leaving you almost anesthetized as soon as you down it, and then an aromatic taste wafts into your mouth; it is lysergic, unusual, unmistakable.

You love it, so you keep doing it.

Javier is the same. 

He's sharp, stiff at the edges, burns like fire, but he has an aura that you won’t mistake for anything and he hypnotizes you. He’s not like anyone else, despite what you told him. There is an underlying despair in him, a cry dying in his throat, “How can you love someone like me?” 

He says it only with his eyes but you hear it clearly.

He is a time bomb that explodes in your heart every time he touches you. So you keep doing it.

“Fuck,” you whisper against his lips. 

“Yeah…I know. I’m not worthy.”

And yet, you’re still here.

You let him peel off your every layer of clothing, to leave you naked and vulnerable in front of him. 

You do nothing when he undresses too. Hastily taking off his shirt, fumbling with the button of his jeans, nervous hands and short breaths.

It is like some mind fuck game, intoxicating, dangerous, capable of leaving permanent marks.

He lowers his jeans just enough to free his cock, no boxers. Always ready.

His hands run over your hips and you groan. 

His tongue slides over your neck, his eyes closed, his breath heavy and warm on your skin. 

He makes you cry, but you don't say no.

His lips latch onto your nipple and adrenaline rushes through your veins up into your head, hitting hard like a jackhammer.

You don’t pull back anymore, you push your tit into his mouth so eagerly you feel his teeth closing on your bud and you whine in pleasure. 

His growing erection leaks against your center. You are trapped. Not so much because you are between him and the wall but because you no longer know how to get him out of your head. 

Right now it doesn't matter how much it hurts. 

He slides his hands down your thighs and you know what he wants, without needing to speak. You wrap your legs around his waist. He kneels on the bed with you still clinging to him, you lie back on the soft blankets that smell of you both, arch your back and press against his cock. You folds splayed and dripping for him.

His fingers go up your rib cage, stop under your breasts and grasp there, he draws you back to him and your mouths collide again.

You let his tongue enter. You let the fleeting pleasure of this instant take over all the no's you know you have to say.

There’s no right kind of love here, this room is drowned in angry sex.

Angry at how you can never say no to him, angry at how he makes you feel, angry because you know that no one has ever fucked you the way he did, invading your body with a pleasure so addictive that it makes you sick. Angry because maybe he's right, he can't change. 

You break the kiss and bite on his shoulder, a small act of revenge that really does no harm compared to your bleeding heart. 

Your hands grasp on the golden skin of his back, leaving marks with your nails digging into it, your miserable attempt to leave marks on him in return.

You moan convulsively under his touch, your mouth wide open against his, your tongue desperately seeking him out. 

His hands tighten on your ass, lifting you slightly, his cock slides over your wet opening, a guttural sound comes out of the back of your throat without you being able to hold it back. 

You want him inside you. 

You need him inside you.

And it’s wrong, and desperate. It’s masochistic.

You don’t even care for his jeans’s zip scraping your skin.

The thin line between pain and pleasure is so blurred now.

It’s a pathetic shit show of need and urgency. 

You’d walk away from any other guy but Javier is the person you can never have just for yourself and at the same time he is the only one you want. 

He is the knife and the wound at the same time.  

When he asks “Whose pussy is this?” in his deep groaning voice that fucks directly with your brain, you can only reply “yours.”

Digging your nails deeper, biting more, wailing louder but just pleading with him.

You take his shaft in your hand and rub it against you in blind desperation, wetting it with your juices. 

He groans into your ears while his hand reaches for your nipple and his big strong arm holds you close.

You are sitting on his thighs, your legs crossed behind his back.

His fingers pinch your nipple as you don't stop stroking his big throbbing cock.

Just put it in there. You think. I just need to feel your flesh against mine, inside me, claiming me like the rag doll that I am now. 

Stupid bitch trying to have you when you’re damaged like a shattered glass, when you can bring nothing than heat to my body and freezing ice to my heart. 

“Fuck me,” you groan. 

He pushes against your core, entering you with one deep thrust.

Your pussy is weeping so much it doesn’t even hurt.

You clench on him with all the strength you have, chocking his cock with your walls.

“Fuck,” he growls. “You’re gripping me so hard, baby. There’s nothing you want more than this, huh? Me fucking you raw?” 

“Shut up,” you hiss. 

He starts moving, pumping into you as his hand reaches for your clit, brushing it in circles.

You whine, clinging onto his back, your face hidden in the crook of his neck.

You can’t look him in the eye, you can’t face your own shameful reflection in his pupils, you can’t think of anything else than this pleasure firing your body, your limbs, your mind.

Your pussy never gets the memo when it comes to him. She just clenches, and cries and asks for more.

At the verge of your brink, when you’re so utterly overwhelmed you could swear, you’re about to jump out of your skin, you hear it.

It’s the softest whisper on your skin, so low you barely catch the words, “I love you” 

You cry a single tear that slides down the column of his neck, it could be mistaken for a bead of sweat so easily and Javier doesn’t notice it. But it’s there. You’re crying again.

You come, weeping.

Grasping to him like your last shred of hope.

But there’s no hope anymore.

You know you can’t go on like that.

You cried before. You argued before. It’s all useless.

A devastating orgasm shoots through you, leaving you without defense.

It’s the last thing you want but you need to get it over with. 

You lie on the bed, feeling his last twitches inside you, his cum dripping onto your walls, his cock pressing against that spot that belongs only to him.

He lies down on you, gently crushing you with his weight, his sweaty skin against yours, the smell of your orgasm filling your nostrils.

You’re hopeless and breathless. 

He's still inside you, like he doesn't want to leave. 

You know you have to. 

Eventually he shifts, lying on the other side of the bed muttering, “god, you really are something else.” He takes the pack of cigarettes from the nightstand and lights one, taking a long drag.

“I'm not enough,” you want to scream looking at him through the cloud of smoke enveloping him. “Or maybe you're not, for me.”

When he is about to fall asleep, you get up. You pick up your clothes off the floor and put them on silently.

“Where are you going, gatita?” he grunts. 

Does he think he has solved it? Does he think you will forgive him as you did the other times? 

You don’t reply.

"You only ever tell me the truth when you think I won't hear it,” you type on your phone and send it to him, before coming out of the door without turning your back.

You leave him there, wondering, lost as he makes you feel.

There will be two broken hearts. 

You know he loves you and you love him.

He is convinced that he doesn’t deserve you and pushes you away every time you get close to his soul. 

He knows that you see him clearly; that scares him.

You are tired of fighting for the both of you.

You push the elevator button under the gaze of an unsuspecting policeman who urges, “Where are you going, miss?”

“I'm leaving.”

“Do you need someone to accompany you?” 

“No, thank you.”

“Someone could follow you,” he counters.

“No one knows me, you don't have to worry.”

You wait for the elevator, still hoping to see his ruffled raven hair poking out the door, his voice calling to you, his hand tightening on your wrist. 

None of this happens.

The only ones who will follow you are your ghosts.

Tag list: @baronessvonglitter , @almostempty , @probablyreadinsmut , @thundermartini , @gothcsz , @cas-readsandwrites , @harriedandharassed

Archive tag: @pedrostories

If you want to be added or removed just let me know! Thank you very much for reading❤︎

[themdera]

George Clarke replied to your story.

2,172 words. Green circle. Red Circle. what’s the difference?

It all started a few weeks ago when George had posted a random Instagram Story asking fans to add him to their close friends lists so he could rank them for a YouTube video—“best, funniest, cringiest, whatever,” he’d promised with that ridiculous smile. Your group chat had of course collectively lost their minds.

“Oh my God, we have to do this,” someone had declared, already tagging him in a story.

You’d rolled your eyes at first. Sure, George was funny, creative, and admittedly attractive, but you weren’t about to feed his ego by crafting some elaborate story just for his amusement. Still, in the chaos of everyone else freaking out, you’d ended up adding him anyway. Not to make the cut for his video—you didn’t post anything remotely funny or interesting enough—but just to shut the groupchat up. And honestly, you forgot to remove him after.

Then came the thirst trap.

It wasn’t even planned. You’d been bored, playing around with some poses, when your friends dared you to post something from the many photos you’d sent them, a simple selfie where the light hits your face and hair in the perfect way, just to mess with people. It had been a joke, like everything else on your close friends, and you’d captioned it, “This one’s for just you ;)” to really sell the bit.

No one actually expected him to see it.

But George Clarke, the man with an unbelievably high screen time, saw everything. The notification came in mere minutes after you posted it. GeorgeClarkeey replied to your story

“Me?” one word. That was all it took.

“Girls” You typed very quickly

Cue the group chat imploding.

“WHAT DID YOU DO?!” your friend types back know the message “Girls” meant something had happened.

“George replied to my story”

“HE WHAT?”

“He’s going to think it’s serious.”

“Can we talk about how he responded in record time???”

“He’s going to make this a thing. I feel it in my soul.”

The replies came in at record speed. Sure enough, George wasn’t done yet.

Another message popped up while you were still processing the first: “Wait. That was for me, right? Like… actually?”

You groaned, tossing your phone onto your bed. What the hell was going on? George Clarke had a talent for this shit, and now you were directly in the middle of it. Of course it wasn’t specifically for him. It was a joke, a dumb joke fueled by group chat dares and late-night boredom. But now George Clarke was in your DMs, actually engaging, and you had no idea how to navigate this.

You sat down on your bed , unlocking your phone to stare at his messages through your notifications like they might explode if you opened them. What the hell were you supposed to say to that?

“Me?”

“Wait. That was for me, right? Like… actually?”

It wasn’t for him. Not really. But at the same time, it wasn’t not for him, and there was no universe in which you could explain that without sounding ridiculous.

Your phone buzzed again.

“Take your time, I’ll just sit here wondering 😏.”

You groaned, throwing your head back. Why was he like this? Why couldn’t he just scroll past like a normal person? Better yet, why did you still have him on your close friends list in the first place?

The group chat, of course, was zero help.

“Just say it was for him. What’s the harm?”

“Tell him it’s a metaphor. Keep him guessing.”

“Confess your undying love and ask him to follow while you’re at it.”

You sighed, finally flopping onto your bed and opening the messages.

“What if it was?” you typed, hesitating for a moment before hitting send.

Immediately, your heart dropped into your stomach. What had you just done? Before you could spiral too deeply into regret over your reply, another notification popped up on your screen.

GeorgeClarkey started following you.

You froze. What the actual fuck was going on? Was this some elaborate joke for his video? Was he about to screenshot your profile and blast you to his friends and his followers as part of his next roast video?

Panic set in almost immediately. You scrambled to your profile, fingers flying as you opened your highlights. What did I even have on there? Your close friends was one thing, but your highlights were public.

The first highlight was fine. A sunset. Very normal. The second was a random dog you’d seen on a walk. Also fine. The third? Oh God, the third. A blurry photo of your face captioned, “Why am I like this?”

You cringed, hitting the delete button, but before you could delete anything else, another notification lit up your phone.

GeorgeClarkey replied to your story:

“Ok but… jokes aside be honest. Is this about me?”

Your group chat exploded before you could even blink.

“HE FOLLOWED YOU?!”

“Shut up. He did not.”

“Bestie, you’re famous now.”

“Oh my God he did! i checked his profile! Did he post anything? Has he said anything else?”

You ignored them, heart pounding as you stared at the notification. This couldn’t be real. George Clarke, internet golden boy who had every teenage girl in a chokehold, was actually engaging with you.

What the hell were you going to do?

You stared at George’s message, your mind racing: “Ok but…jokes aside be honest. Is this about me?”

Before you could fully process it, your fingers moved almost instinctively, opening the group chat. You switched to voice notes because typing just wasn’t fast enough to convey the absolute thoughts in your head.

“Guys,” you hissed into the mic, pacing your room. “What the actual fuck is going on? George Clarke just messaged me again. AGAIN. And he said—wait, no, let me read this. He said, ‘Ok but… jokes aside be honest. Is this about me?’”

You paused, pacing more furiously as all your friends started typing back.

“I don’t know what to say!” you continued in the next voice note, your voice slightly higher now. “Like, do I admit it? Do I deny it? Do I block him and change my name? HELP ME.”

The replies came in almost instantly:

“Post the screenshot right now.”

“Oh my God, you’re in a rom-com.”

“Say it was about him and see what happens. Do it for the plot.”

“Voice note us back with the drama or don’t bother replying at all.”

You rolled your eyes, even as you hit record again.

“Okay, fine. I’ll reply. But if this ends with me being clowned in one of his videos, you’re all accomplices.”

With one final deep breath, you typed out:

“Maybe it was. Maybe it wasn’t. What’s it to you?”

Your thumb hovered for a second, but then you hit send, immediately regretting it as your phone buzzed with another notification.

“Oh, it’s something to me. 😉”

You groaned, sending yet another voice note to the group chat.

“I AM GOING TO SCREAM. He just said it’s ‘something to him.’ WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?!?”

Your friends weren’t helping, their replies now a chaotic mix of screaming voice notes and unhinged texts.

“He’s into you, bestie.”

“We’re living for this. Keep us updated.”

“I’m adding popcorn to my grocery list.”

Whatever George was playing at, it was… kind of fun.

You stared at his message: “Oh, it’s something to me. 😉”

Your heart thudded as you typed out a response, fingers moving on autopilot: “How come?”

For a second, you debated deleting it. Was that too straightforward? Too bold? But before you could overthink it, the message was already sent.

The group chat was on fire.

“WHAT DID YOU SAY???”

“Tell me you asked him why. PLEASE.”

“I’m pacing my room like it’s my drama, what is happening???”

You sent a quick voice note: “I asked him how come. Like, if he’s going to be cryptic, I’m making him work for it. I can’t just let him drop a winky face and get away with it.”

Your phone buzzed before the group could reply. Another message from George.

“Because now I’m curious. Was it really for me?”

You blinked at your screen. Curious? Curious?! Why did he have to phrase it like that? Like this wasn’t a throwaway Instagram post but some grand mystery he needed to solve.

You hit record on another voice note.

“GUYS. He said he’s curious. What the hell does that mean?!” you whispered furiously. “I’m spiraling. Do I double down? Do I back out? Help.”

The replies were just as unhinged as before.

“Double down. Always double down.”

“Tell him it’s his fault for making you curious too.”

“Can we just talk about how into this he clearly is? Like, bestie, he’s invested.”

You shook your head, biting your lip as you typed your next message.

“Maybe it was. Maybe it wasn’t. But now I’m curious—what if it was?”

Your thumb hovered for a moment before you hit send, already bracing for whatever chaos George Clarke was about to unleash next.

The notification popped up almost immediately:

GeorgeClarkey: “Well, if it wasn’t, how come I’m on your close friends and none of my friends are?”

Your jaw dropped. Oh, he was good. Too good. George Clarke wasn’t just playing along—he was winning.

You immediately switched to the group chat, hitting record on a voice note.

“Guys. He’s onto me. He said—and I quote—‘How come I’m on your close friends and none of my friends are?’” You paused, your voice rising in pitch. “WHAT DO I SAY TO THAT?”

The group chat blew up in record time.

“HE SAID WHAT?!”

“Oh my God, this man is flirting.”

“Deflect. Blame it on the algorithm. Lie if you have to.”

“No, no, you need to hit him back with something. Don’t let him win!”

You sent another voice note, pacing your room as you spoke.

“I don’t even know why he’s still on my close friends! It’s not like I planned this—he asked to be added for that stupid video, and I just forgot to take him off. But if I tell him that, he’s going to think I’m some kind of idiot who forgot George Clarke was on their list!”

One of your friends sent a voice note back, barely able to contain their laughter.

“Bestie, you are an idiot who forgot George Clarke was on their list. But now you’ve got him interested, so lean in. Own it. Say something mysterious.”

You sighed, staring at George’s message for a long moment before typing:

“Guess you’ll have to stick around to find out.”

Your heart was racing as you hit send, half-expecting him to call your bluff immediately. Instead, the little typing bubble appeared almost instantly.

“Don’t mind if I do. 😏”

You practically screamed, sending another voice note to the group chat.

“Guys. GUYS. He’s not just flirting. He’s doubling down. What do I do now?!”

The replies came back rapid-fire:

“Marry him.”

“This is officially fanfiction territory.”

“No, seriously, keep him on the hook. This is your moment.”

You didn’t George’s last message—“Don’t mind if I do. 😏”—because honestly, you needed a minute to think. Or maybe several. So instead of spiraling over how to respond, you stuck to your plan.

Ignoring the little red dot on his message thread, you switched to Instagram stories and posted something casual to your story: a cozy shot of your coffee on the table, framed by the warm tones of a London café from last weekend. The kind of post you always shared on quiet afternoons. You added the café’s location tag for good measure, captioning it simply: Need this.

The group chat was, of course, waiting.

“Update: just posted,” you said in a voice note, trying to keep your voice steady. “It’s a café pic. Totally chill, very me. If he reacts to this, I’ll… I don’t know, scream.”

You barely had time to put your phone down before it buzzed with a new notification:

GeorgeClarkey replied to your story.

Your heart jumped as you opened it.

“Good taste. But why didn’t you invite me?”

You sat there, staring at the message like it was in a foreign language. George wasn’t just reacting—he was flirting. Again.

“GUYS,” you hissed into a new voice note, pacing your room. “He replied. And get this—he said, ‘Good taste. But why didn’t you invite me?’ Like, is this man serious?!”

The chat erupted in chaos.

“Shut up, he did NOT.”

“He’s basically asking for a date. I’m calling it.”

“You better reply, right now.”

But you weren’t ready to give in that easily. Typing back too quickly would make it seem like you were waiting for him (which you definitely weren’t). So instead, you left his message on read, letting him sit with it while you debated your next move.

Another voice note: “I’m ignoring him for now. Let’s see if he doubles down.”

And honestly, you weren’t sure what thrilled you more: the fact that George Clarke had replied, or the fact that he was now waiting on you.

———————————————————————-

a/n my first george fic! there will be a part two! the formatting hasn’t worked the way it should have but i’ll work on it!

would like to thank George Clarke for seeing my close friends which then let to @pretendyoucantseeme who gave me the idea and @authortelevision for supporting the delusions. love you both😂

if you wanna be tagged in part 2 please let me know!

[satoruswifeyyyy]

grocery shopping with bratty satoru

masterlist

grocery shopping with satoru was supposed to be a quick errand. a normal task. something simple. but you forgot one very crucial detail: satoru is incapable of being normal.

“you’re pushing the cart too fast,” he whined dramatically, jogging to keep up as you walked down the produce aisle. “what’s the rush? it’s not like the tomatoes are gonna sprout legs and run away.”

“they might, if they hear you talking,” you deadpanned, grabbing a handful of tomatoes and placing them in a bag.

“how dare you insult my sweet tone!” he gasped, clutching his chest like you’d just slapped him. “my voice is a gift to the world.”

“your voice is why i wear noise-canceling headphones at home,” you retorted, moving on to the cucumbers.

he grabbed a cucumber and held it up like a microphone. “tell us, oh great shopper, how do you choose the perfect cucumber?”

“by shoving it into the cart before my overgrown toddler of a boyfriend can use it to embarrass me,” you replied, tossing the cucumber into the cart.

satoru grinned, leaning on the cart as he sauntered after you. “so mean, yet so cute. i'm starting to think you keep me around for entertainment.”

“i keep you around because the store doesn’t let me use the express lane without two people,” you teased, heading toward the snacks aisle.

“ih, the betrayal!” he gasped, trailing dramatically behind you. “i thought it was my charming personality, my good looks, my—”

“don’t forget your giant ego,” you interrupted, attempting to toss a bag of chips into the cart but failing to do so.

picking the bag from the ground, he threw it into the cart with unnecessary flair. “you’re lucky i’m forgiving. what’s next? chocolate? ice cream? no spicy food though!”

“how about something to keep your mouth occupied so I can shop in peace?” you suggested, grabbing a jar of salsa.

“you wound me,” he sighed, clutching the cart like he might faint. “if only,” you muttered under your breath.

but before you could add anything else to the cart, satoru wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. “you’re so mean to me,” he pouted, his voice full of affection.

“If i were nice to you, you’d think i was sick,” you replied, trying to wiggle free.

“no way. i'd just assume you finally realized how amazing I am.”

“amazing at being annoying,” you shot back, though the corners of your lips twitched upward despite yourself.

“ah-ha! I saw that!” he exclaimed, spinning you around to face him. “you’re smiling. admit it, you love me.”

“yeah, yeah,” you said, grabbing a box of cookies and shoving them into his hands. “i love you almost as much as i love grocery shopping alone.”

satoru laughed, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your forehead. “too bad, you’re stuck with me. now, let’s go find the ice cream before i start crying in public.”

as you turned toward the frozen foods, satoru suddenly lit up like a kid on christmas morning. “ooh, the cheese section!”

“do we really need five different types of cheese?” you asked, staring at the cart that was beginning to resemble a buffet.

“yes,” he replied confidently, tossing a block of gouda into the cart. “What if I wake up one day and feel like swiss, but all we have is cheddar? tragic.”

you grabbed the pack of gouda cheese and put it back. “we don’t need all this. you’re not a one-man charcuterie board.”

“but my refined palate!” he gasped, looking scandalized. “your refined palate eats instant ramen at 3 a.m. and thinks potato chips are a food group,” you deadpanned.

he smirked. “and yet, here you are, still madly in love with me.”

rolling your eyes, you pulled the cart away. “we’re sticking to the list. no more random luxuries.”

“random luxuries? excuse me, but this cheese is a necessity,” he argued, holding up a tiny packet with an outrageous price tag.

you snatched it from his hand and put it back. “no one needs $1300 pule cheese for their pizza,toru.

"fine, fine,” he relented, though you could tell he wasn’t actually upset. “but you owe me something sweet for being such a responsible adult.”

grabbing a pack of his favorite candy, you tossed it into the cart. “happy now, you spoiled brat?”

he grinned, ruffling your hair. “ecstatic. you’re lucky you’re cute, or i'd be unbearable.”

“you’re already unbearable,” you replied, laughing despite yourself.

with satoru, even the simplest tasks turned into a chaotic adventure. embarrassing, loud, and ridiculous—but also sweet in its own way. life with him was anything but ordinary, and maybe, just maybe, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

A/N: suguru coming up next :)

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

To a Tea 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc. 

Part of the Sweet and Spicy AU 

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk. 

18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you. 

Summary:  A demanding customer grows increasingly needy.

Character:  Raymond Smith

The title is a pun, don’t @ me.

Please comment and reblog if it’s not too much. I always love getting to chat about these stories and hearing all your ideas! You all are wonderful and loved. 

You don’t often miss work, but that week, a burst pipe throws everything off. A morning spent waiting on your landlord, then the next few hours for a plumber, has things a bit off kilter. Even the next day, you’re not quite back on point. 

The patched wall next to fridge reminds you of the disaster and a dingy smell persists. You hope it doesn’t cling to you as you set off for your shift that day. If you can, you want to pick up some hours from others if their up for grabs. Harry doesn’t like Saturday’s, maybe he’ll hand over some. 

You try to leave your problems behind as you catch a bus down to the city centre. You get to the tea shop five minutes before the hour. Jenna’s wrapping up the opening tasks as you go to leave your things in the back. You tie on your apron and unlock the front door for the first customers of the day. 

At first, it’s a trickle. Never very much at all. The early risers who often come alone or if they aren’t, they don’t speak much or very loudly. The smell of fresh baking and the slow rising sun add to the lazy din. 

“Thought the special was strawberry today,” you comment as you transfer macarons from a cooled tray to the display. 

“Eh, it was but we didn’t have enough jam,” she shrugs. “Changed the sign, is all.” 

“Ah, thought my mind was lagging again. Everything’s been off since yesterday.” 

“Eh, how’s the apartment, anyhow? Marilyn said it was something about a leak?” 

“Burst pipe,” you explain, “they took out the wall above the sink, buncha clanging all day. When I tell you this place is like heaven.” 

She chuckles, “can be.” 

“There’s a formal tea booked in the Marigold Room at noon,” she intones, “forgot to mention that. With Mother’s day coming up, suppose we’ll get more bookings.” 

“Suppose,” you go to check the schedule hanging on the wall. “Party of twelve, wow.” 

“I’ll man the till. Honest, since those ladies at New Years, I’ve hated doing them.” 

“No problem, Harry should be here, shouldn’t he?” 

“Well, he’s... called in.” 

“Again?” You whine as you face her. 

“Are you really surprised?” She scoffs. 

“No one else to cover? Not even Louisa?” 

“Nah, she’s on holiday still.” 

You huff, “fine. Not much of a choose then, is it?” 

🫖

The tea room is as close to raucous as you’ve ever heard it. You have your back to the rest of the shop as you balance the stacked serving trays with an array of sponge cake, fruit, and biscuits. It’s the typical assortment for a tea party booking. 

You’ve already served the tea and the sandwiches, and dessert is the last bit, along with any further pots needed to be steeped throughout. With a partner, it isn’t hard to keep up, but alone, it’s rather overwhelming. Jenna does her best to assist but there aren’t many lulls around lunch time. 

Beyond that, the tourists are chatty. You could hardly get away to fetch each course as they wanted to chat about the culture and your suggestions of what they should do next. It’s nice that they’re friendly but still stressful. 

You put the trays on the cart and roll it around the counter. As you do, you nearly skid to a halt. In the rush, you hadn’t noticed him. Your eyes meet Raymond’s as he watches you. Intent, intense. You give an apologetic smile and nod in acknowledgement. Jenna wanted to deal with the main room, she’ll have to wipe down his table and do her best. 

You roll behind the wall and into the Marigold room. You present the tray and grab it by the ring at the top, lifting it onto the centre of the table. You roll around to gather the empty plates and cups, taking two pots for refill. 

You come back out and see Raymond standing, just as he was. He sees you too. Watching, hands folded, knuckles white, jaw set. He’s usually patient but you don’t know how long he’s been waiting. 

You roll behind the counter and sigh, clearing off the cart as Jenna steams a tea latte. 

“Can you wipe Raymond’s table?” You ask. 

“Who?” She furrows her brow. 

You glance over your shoulder toward the man in question and she follows. She rolls her eyes, “I tried, I wiped the the table. He didn’t sit.” 

“Hm, well... did you wash your hands first?” 

“Christ Almighty, what is he a child?” 

“Jen, he’s just... you know, my mom’s the same. He can’t help it.” 

“You can deal with him. I won’t be arsed,” she sniffs, “he was rude and you know I don’t got time for those ones.” 

“Jenna, I’m kinda up to my eyes,” you dump the used bags from a pot. “I know he can be prickly but just wash your hands and redo the table.” 

“Ugh, fine,” she sneers, “but you owe me.” 

“Let’s call it even,” you retort as you pour boiling water into the pots mouth. 

She shakes her head and huffs, “guess it is.” 

🫖

It’s nearly three in the afternoon. It’s quiet. Harry’s on his phone instead of doing the cups and your wiping the empty tables to keep yourself moving. The door opens and you glance over to make sure Harry’s alert. He’s not. 

Doesn’t matter. It’s him. Raymond. You stand and clutch the cloth tight in your hand as you greet him. 

“Be right with you, Raymond,” you assure him. 

He barely looks at you as he goes to wait next to his table. You go behind the counter and mutter under your breath in Harry’s direction, “...dirty cups.” You wash your hands and make sure to clink some of the empty porcelain in an effort to draw your coworker’s attention. He’s still entranced by his phone. 

You take the disinfectant wipes and go back out. You approach Raymond as he checks his watch. 

“How are you today?” You ask. 

He grumbles and shrugs, “fine.” 

“English Breakfast, black,” you declares as you finish wiping up, “usual.” 

“So you remember,” he challenges as he steps close, closer than ever, before sidling around to sit. 

“Of course, I always do,” you smile. 

“And last time?” 

“Last time...” 

“Twice.” 

You’re confused. What is he talking about? 

“I came on Tuesday and you weren’t here. Then on Thursday, you didn’t even say hello.” 

“Oh, well, I’m sorry, Raymond, it was a busy day. Tuesday, I had a personal emergency so I didn’t even know you’d been in--” 

“I’ll have my tea now,” he interjects tersely. 

“Right, tea,” you confirm and spin around. 

“Crooked strings,” he remarks dully, “again.” 

[awlayt]

One piece men reacting to you sitting on Thier lap in a Public setting, while wearing a skirt and you telling them you are not wearing any panties on

Characters: Trafalgar law,Sanji,Luffy,Rob Lucci, Eustass kid

Tags: smut drabbles,finger fucking,teasing, degradation,not proofread so excuse my mistakes plz, afab!reader in mind

Law

He is first bit shocked, a flustered mess actually. He thought you were Begin your cute self only to do that to him. His tattooed fingers are so tempted to test if you are truthful or not. He doesn't want anyone else to see him bury his fingers in your pretty cunt, yet. You made him do this. He needs to make sure you are not joking,so you better not make a noise.

"(Y/n)-ya. You really can't do this. What if someone saw you like this?" He whispers to your ear in a fake scolding tone, while his hand sneakily moves under your skirt,his tattooed finger teases your folds, and he slightly chuckles as he rests his chin on your shoulder, removing his hand away from your core and letting it rest on your thigh. "Naughty...guess we have to find somewhere private so I can help you put your panties back on," he mumbles to you, while his thumb trace a little circle on your thigh. "Can't have you walking around like that," he adds as he gets up, holding your hand and guiding you to some bathroom. From how lustful his gaze is,you doubt he will be helping you put your panties back on.

Sanji

He dies from a nosebleed. Rest in peace king. He was so excited that his ass forgot he was in public till you stopped his hand from reaching down the skirt, and he let out a little whimper of disappointment. "Oh, come on, my love..let me check" he tells you in a husky tone. Your cheek flushes in embarrassment. You were hoping to fluster him, not this overly horny reaction. You should have known better.

His hand finds its way under your skirt anyway, and he is so mesmerized by the fact you are actually saying the truth and the fact you are a bit wet too. He is at heaven. Yeah,yeah that must be it. He let his finger tease your slit slightly,just a teasing touch,while his thumb traced over your clitoral area so gently. "Want to see how far we can go before you want some privacy, my love?" Sanji whispers so huskily in your ear,making you feel shivers down your neck. You nod slowly; obviously,this is the best outcome for you after all.

Luffy

" Same " "what?" "I'm not wearing any boxers either,they get uncomfortable sometimes" "WHAT"

Literally clueless,till You yourself let your hand in his pants and his face redden a bit, his brain registering what you were trying to do by not wearing a panties as your hand warp around his dick so gently "(y/n)yy...I thought we weren't supposed to do this Infront of others" he whine to you and shush him "they don't need to know..." You say playfully,Luffy huffing ,not vibing with your teasing,he stop your hand "no,let me-" he literally shove his hand between your legs and start caressing your cunt so tenderly" No fun teasing me now huh?" He asks and you huffs grabbing his hand" Luffy They might see-" Luffy stop you with a kiss " you wanted it first yeah? so you better handle it " he tells you as his finger start pumping in your cunt so feverishly "let them see,I will fight them if they tried anything funny"

Rob lucci

He gave you an unimpressed glance ,you were almost disappointed, you look away,maybe you can go fuck with kaku or someone else,you could had more of a reaction with a Brick wall- you think, that till you felt his hands grabbing your thighs and keeping you on his lap,and then you feel something hard under you,you turn to look at him and he is looking at you with that sadistic gaze he always have when you misbehave

"Really?, Let me see then" he says with a stoic tone,he so shamelessly lift the skirt a bit up and you can feel the cold air hit your bare core,his palm moves to cover it as he let a thoughtful hum "tell me, what did you expect me to do when you decided to do this?'' he asks as he moves his hand slight ,his middle finger thrust into you so harshly earning a moan from you that cause few people to glance your way,you try to remove his hand from you,yet you couldn't even if you wanted " come on ,answer me..,no let me answer it Instead ,you wanted me to fuck you while everyone watched ,didn't you? Or were you just teasing me...ah I do expect the latter ,yet you know what happens when you tease me like this " he says with a Stern voice,his finger thrusting in your now dripping cunt,you are just closing your mouth with a hand to keep what left of your dignity "lucc-lucci stop please-i was just teasing you" you whisper so desperately trying to keep your moans low ,Lucci chuckles sadistically " yeah,figured it out...well here's the deal ,you cum on my fingers without making any noises,and I will stop, if you couldn't..then I hope you enjoy people watching, because I will be fucking you over this table"

Eustass kid

He will look at you with a questioning look as 'are you serious ' and you nod so proudly,you see his cheeks turn red and his chest puff up as his hand goes to under your skirt to see if you are fucking with him or not, spoiler alert,you are not ,Kid face turn into a little devilish smirk as instead of pulling his hand away,he start teasing your folds with his finger,and now it's your turn to have a flustered look on your face

"k-kid no touching now" you whimper so lowly that it cause kid chest to rumble with a deep chuckle "ah that's no fun shorty...you got your pretty cunt uncovered and you expect me to keep my hand to myself? That wound me ,you know me better" he says rather playfully,his finger slide so easily into your welcoming cunt,pumping in and out,hitting your g-spot so teasingly making you moan lowly,kid smirk only grow " here you go,such a pretty doll, couldn't wait for us to be alone huh? it's okay though,they can all watch,not like they will be able to touch your pretty cunt,it's all mine after all" he purr into your ear as he add a second finger into your cunt,making you moan even more,at least the only people in the room are the crew...they will soon be traumatized when they realize what you're both doing for sure

Reblogs and comments are appreciated

[the-kr8tor]

KATY THINK OF THIS (IM THAT ONE ANON THAT SAID ABOUT RUNAWAY PRINCESS X PIRATE HOBIE AND I WANNA ADD TO IT)

what if she’s running because she’s getting married to this shitty aristocracy that her family arranged and she running away from that and ends up meeting ways with a pirate. Hobie probably doesn’t know she’s this princess and falls in love but news breaks out as always she gets found and forced to marry that aristocracy and Hobie’s basically gets betrayed. (Live laugh love)

Btw other anon can use this idea or make their own version

Aahhhhh anon I'm so sorry but this took on a life of its own 😭😭😭 but I ended it open ended just in case someone requests something in this au!! So sorry that this pivoted from the prompt, ly thank you for requesting ❤️❤️❤️

Pairing: Pirate! Hobie Brown x Princess! reader

Word count: 2.3k

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing), CW blood, CW violence.

A/N: If you want more princess! Reader x Pirate! Hobie, @pinksugarscrub has a few fics with them!

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

Marriage, it's supposed to be a happy occasion. One where it's supposed to be filled with laughter and dancing with your family and your new family. Looking forward to your new life with the love of your life. Not whatever the hell your father arranged for you.

As you hide from your handmaiden below deck together with your dowry which is basically a barn full of chickens and cows, their noises hide your frustrated groans from trying to rip your gown from your body. You've had enough of the silky fabric and its luscious lace, you've hatched a plan, a plan to escape from the loveless marriage that will fall on you once you step out of your father's ship. You were not dubbed ‘the realm's problem princess’ for nothing.

Whilst your sisters were called ‘the realm's delight’ or ‘the realm's most beautiful’, but, as the seventh daughter out of twelve siblings, you were not granted a title befitting of you. Even though you're not the heir or even the spare, you were given something much more priceless than a piece of land or castle, no, you were given freedom. Freedom to whisk away every night to mingle with the common folk, freedom to run around the castle without getting reprimanded by your royal parents. Why would they even blink an eye at your so-called debauchery when you're the seventh and not the eldest or even the youngest?

But that sense of freedom that they have given you has now backfired on them. You absolutely refused to marry a stranger from another country, and for political gain nonetheless. You fought everyone to not be sent away from your home. You kicked knights in their steel clad groins, you punched footmen right under their chins. The last straw apparently was when you tried to stow away on a merchant ship whilst you were disguised as a common boy, to which your father and his adviser did not appreciate.

“it’s for the good of the realm,” they said, “I secured an advantageous marriage for you” they said. Well they can shove that marriage contract up where the sun doesn't shine. If your father's adviser was so keen on marrying the strange royal then he should just marry him instead.

You grumble obscenities under your breath, a chicken tilts its head at your frustrations. The fabric of the skirt finally rips away from your hips, leaving you in only your petticoat and corset. A locket tumbles off from the sewn pocket inside the skirt. You almost forgot about the damn thing in your haste to get away.

Grabbing the golden locket, you don't even sneak one last peek at the painting inside, a painting that depicts your so-called fiancé. He's not ugly per se, but he seems…boring. Too boring for you at least. All his correspondence to you were lackluster, his poems lacking heart and character. You surmise that it was written by someone else ever since you've heard rumours of his illiteracy.

You huff, throwing it on the pile of fabric. A cow moos next to you, and you spare her a glare.

“This is for the best, Belinda.” You've named her after your handmaiden. Belinda has been your only friend since your journey. “I don't want to get married off to some strange man, to live in a strange land. And to never see my siblings, not even during the holidays!” You put on trousers that you've stolen from one of the sailors accompanying you. “I'd rather risk it out in the sea than be a wife.” Miraculously, the trousers fit perfectly. “Finally, something right goes my way today. Let's hope this luck continues.”

As you say those words, the ship lunges harshly to the side, knocking you off your feet then flinging you against the hardwood. Vision swirling, the poor animals cry out in their cages, you think they're crying out based on their frantics faces since your ears seem to only hear that high pitched ringing sound.

Dust falls on you like snowflakes, looking above, the dust comes from the deck. Before you could stand up, the ship lunges once again. You slide on the floor, together with the crates and cages.

Your vision finally clears moments before Belinda's cage smashes into you. Frantically, you crawl aside, the metal cage missing your foot by only a few inches.

“Are you hurt?!” You ask the cow as if she can talk back. Belinda moos loudly, you now notice your hearing coming back. And you just now notice the warm crimson sliding down your forehead and down to your lashes. Blinking away, you wipe it, blood coating your palms, heart pumping rapidly, you panic. “Oh, shit.”

You need help, but you backtrack as the sounds from above get louder and louder as your hearing finally normalizes. Screams and gunshots can be heard, cannons are going off from your left, and you're absolutely petrified.

You just want to go home. This isn't exactly what you pictured when your brothers tell you of their feats while at sea.

The animals in their cages cry out in the same panic that swells in your chest. If you want to run away, they must want the same thing. In your fear-addled brain, you grab the set of keys that are set on the wall to open each of their cages. The chickens cluck and scamper away the second you open their cage, while the bigger animals are much more apprehensive. You coach them out of their enclosure, Belinda is the first one out, and the rest follows.

Something hits the hull of the ship, the sheer force knocking you to your knees. A split second later, you feel water under your trousers. Looking over your shoulders, you see water seeping through the gaping hole. And you notice that you're now alone below deck.

Trudging the rising water towards the stairs, someone familiar calls after you, her voice is hoarse yet you can recognize it even in your sleep.

“Princess!” Belinda calls, the real Belinda.

“I'm here!” You yell back, the water now reaching to your hips.

She quickly comes down the stairs, she gasps, eyes wide with panic. “My girl! Come hurry!” Hand reaching towards you, you thank your older brother for teaching you how to swim.

You finally reach her before the water could drown you. Belinda sighs in relief as she yanks you away from the freezing water.

“What were you thinking!” She roams her eyes towards your clothes, or the lack of it. Half hugging you, shielding you away from wandering eyes, she guides you towards the deck.

“I didn't cause this!” You defend yourself, shivering from the cold, regretting ripping off your warm gown.

“I know you didn't, stupid girl! We're getting sacked by pirates!” Belinda practically screams in your ears, and your blood runs cold. She groans when she sees the blood coating half of your face. She murmurs something about getting sacked once she gets home. Or was it axed?

“Pirates?!” You remember all the stories your older brothers told you. ‘Be wary of the sea, for they hold sinister beings’ they said, and you thought they were talking about sea monsters. You grew up, and now you know they weren't exactly talking about mythical beings. “Oh sh–” Belinda side eyes you. “Shucks!” In your peripheral, you spot cow belinda eating cabbage inside the galley.

Your handmaiden leads you down the hallway, “we need to hide you!” Her body shakes from fear at what they would do to a princess like you.

“What about you?” And you fear for her safety.

“I'll be alright, princess, I'll live but you might not.”

“What the fuck!” You let out not because of what she said but because of the large man waiting at the end of the corridor.

“We're dead.” Belinda says nonchalantly, as if this was a regular occurrence for her.

“You the princess?” He asks gruffly, his cutlass shines from the sun beaming through the window. The scars on his bare chest and the tattoo on his neck scares the living out of you.

“...no?” You say meekly. “You're on the wrong ship, mister. No princess here!” Your voice squeaks.

“This is ‘the raven's beak’, right?” He raises a thick eyebrow.

“...no” a big fat lie on your end that you hope he did not see through you.

He looks down at you, you can practically see the cogs in his head turn.

“We'll be going now, sir.” Belinda chuckles nervously. Just as you're about to escape the pirate, he grabs your bare shoulders. Your handmaiden immediately takes your hand.

“Hold on, you're not going anywhere. That corset is too pretty and intricate for some wench.” He drags you away whilst Belinda tries her best to yank you away, and in turn she gets dragged too. Her heels scrape against the wood, her face turning red from frustration.

“A wench!” You scoff, fruitlessly elbowing him. “Ow!” Your elbow hurts, it's like you punched a wall.

The stranger chuckles, “Time to meet the captain.”

“Wait, are you going to kidnap me?!”

“Of course we will.” He says matter of factly. Belinda continues to hold your hand but she has given up from trying to take you away from the large man. “For ransom.”

You burst into laughter, the man raises a brow at the sudden outburst. Belinda cocks her head at your strange behavior.

“Oh that's funny!” You continue to giggle even when you finally reach the deck. The sun hits your skin, warming your wet clothes. The smell of gunpowder makes your nose itch.

Both pirates and captured sailors look at you having a laughing fit. Your eyes water, and your chest is hurting from all the laughing. The man sets you down right next to the bound sailors. Head in your hands, giggling subsiding, fear encapsulates you again, and now you refuse to look up.

“Havin' a giggle, eh?” A voice asks.

“Yep.” You pop the p in your mouth, face still hidden from your captors.

“Is this fun to you, princess?” A feminine voice pipes up from your right.

“Not one bit!”

“She doesn't look like a princess, you sure it's her?” Another unknown voice asks.

“Not sure, Pav.” You feel someone crouch in front of you. The leather from his clothes squeaks, metals clinking together as he moves. “Maybe if the princess graces us with her beautiful face we can identify her?”

“Nope, not doing that.”

“C’mon, love, we're not going to hurt you. Your father wouldn't pay us if we did.”

“It's funny that you think my father will actually pay the ransom.” Your voice is still muffled by your hands.

“Why's that?” He asks softer.

“He doesn't like me, if you got one of my brothers then he will surely pay you.” You take your hands away, eyes going wide for a second once your vision is blessed by the handsome pirate. Clearing your throat, fixing your composure, you ignore the smirk on his pierced lips. “Y-you’re shit out of luck because you got me instead.”

“Nah,” he tilts his head with a smile. “I think I got lucky.”

Your cheeks are suddenly warm, you don't think it's from the sun. Hands clammy, you nervously laugh.

Surprisingly, he laughs with you. “Captain Hobie Brown,” he introduces himself. Your instincts kick in, but before you could introduce yourself, he smiles genuinely at you. A smile that has his eyes crinkling in the corners, a smile that weirdly fills you with comfort. “I know who you are, princess. And I know your father will pay the ransom.”

You knit your eyebrows. “How would you know?”

“Easy, you're his favourite.”

“Bullshit, now that's funny.”

“A princess' face but with the mouth of a sailor. I think you'd fit right in with us, hm?” Hobie takes his coat off to drape it on your bare shoulders. “Your sailors were frothing at the mouth.”

“W-what?” Sure enough, when you turn your head to the side, you see your father's men quickly avert their eyes.

“Why don't we strike a deal?” His grey eyes twinkles in the sun. It reminds you of when the light hits the water just right whenever you look out your bedroom window.

“Do not, princess! He's a liar! All pirates are.” Belinda scoffs at the pirate right before a blond woman stuffs her mouth with a piece of cloth.

Despite the warning, you're curious. “What deal?”

“Come with us,” he whispers lowly, just for your ears to hear. “Let's deceive your father and your fiancé, we get their money and you get out of your marriage. Easy.”

“That doesn't sound easy.”

“Nothing in life is.”

“How would you do it?” You roam your eyes around his face for any clue if he's lying. You don't find any.

“Come aboard, and you'll find out.” Hobie stands up, hand stretched out for you.

“Sounds like a trap.” You look up with a growing smile. “But it's better than getting married.” To Belinda's disapproval, you take his hand.

“Good choice—” You pull at his hand hard, eyes threatening, grip getting stronger, stronger than a princess should.

“Don’t fuck with me, Hobie. Trust me, whatever you're planning, let’s hope my fiancé doesn't actually care about me.” Something passes by your eyes. “If he does, if what you tell me is true, then my father's army will be the least of your worries.”

A grin spreads across his face, the silver he wears is glinting just like his grey eyes. “I know of your fiancé, and your warmongering brothers.” He leans closer to your bewildered face, “do you think I need the money? When I have them?” Leaning away, he takes a step back to show you his fleet, a fleet that could even rival your father's and your fiancé’s combined. Their flags wave in the wind, red sails dancing in the breeze. “What do you say, love? Would you rather get married, or stay and listen to my plan?”

You grin back, “I've heard of you,” the infamous pirate captain smugly smiles. “Let's hear your plans then, captain.”

[lillxart]

WIP Wednesday

No artwork to share since I'm not at my desktop rn, so I thought I'd share a bit of Snow White!~

Tagged by: @hircines-hunter and @skyrim-forever! Thank you sm as always!~

Tagging: @snowy-weather @ladytanithia @ijiwaruuma @kiir-do-faal-rahhe @theoneandonlysemla @dirty-bosmer @thequeenofthewinter @sulphuricgrinyou don't have to participate if you don't want to tho! I'm sure some of y'all have already been tagged.

I need to add a list of tags to my drafts. Lol.

Snow White the Dragonborn: pgs 311/461 fully edited

Lydia the Housecarl: 7 chapters left to write

Snow White waits patiently to be told why she was arrested, talking to the rats in the meantime. Like always, there was some kind of argument. Thankfully it isn’t food related, instead the roost of rats arguing over their marital problems. They want to have more litters and grow their kind, but the lady rats don’t want to mate with them because there are too many larger animals inside the city. They wanted to migrate to the fields where things were easier. The male rats thought that was a horrible idea, because outside the city there are skeevers and giant dogs. The witch is the mitigator between the discussion, again. “In hindsight, the males have a point! :0 It’s better to grow here in the city. Plus, there’s free garbage! >w<” The rats all look at each other, having one more spout of ‘I was right!!’ and all the facets that came with the argument. Eventually they all settle down and thank the witch for listening to their issues. 

Speech Increased

As thanks, the rats give her a diamond. They’ve seen humans get excited over the gems, so they thought it suitable payment for the counseling session. “Hehehehe…! >u< Awwwwe, thanks guys!” She giggles like a gremlin again. At least she has some pocket money now!

“Oh Gods! Guards! Get this mad woman out of here! She’s talking to the rats!!” The Nord locked up in the opposite cell cries in terror. 

“Quiet!” Commander Caius beats his fist on the metal bars of the other cell, causing it to rattle.  Snow White hides the amethyst in her cleavage, having literally nowhere else to put it. She remembers the commander back from when she defeated Mirmulnir, his head is still bald! “T–Thane!?” Upon seeing Whiterun’s hero in bars, Caius gives the guards a deathglare. “You locked up Whiterun’s Thane!?”

“Th–The Dragonborn??”

“She’s our Thane??” The guards are confused. 

“Uuumm… 0v0 Issat supposed to mean something?” Snow White is also confused. 

Commander Caius pinches the bridge of his nose. “And here I thought after all you did for the temple you’d actually be a promising Thane…”

“What are you talking about?? I don’t even know why I was arrested! ;o;”

Caius stares at her, perplexed. He couldn’t tell if she was serious or lying. He pulls out a document, what appears to be her bounty, and reads it outloud. “White haired Breton, wanted dead or alive, one thousand septims for the murder of Gleda the goat.” He raises an eyebrow. “That ring a bell?...”

I totally forgot about the illusion spell!! She mentally cries. “But I didn’t kill the goat! I just, y’know, accidentally sold it off to a giant! TOT”

Caius heavily sighs. Suppose the rumors of their Thane being odd are true. “Well, we can’t exactly arrest the Dragonborn with the crisis going on. But you need to pay off that fine, understand?”

“Yes sir. T~T”

“Good, now get her out of here.” Caius motions for his guards to open up the cell block. 

“Oh! Wait, does this help?” Snow White parts her breasts and takes out the diamond she just got. 

The guards started at it, the one without the helmet blushing profusely. “Er…”

Caius rolled his eyes at the guard’s gawking. Absolute children… “Yes, it’s a start. Good day, Thane.”

“It’s still warm…” One of the guards took off his gloves to handle the gem.

[mioyeo]

Watch your back : Chapter 9

Once you don’t value what you have someone else learns how to take care of what used to be yours

Synopsis : 8 men supposed to give her all the love they promised end up leaving her behind without a valid reason

Pairing : girlfriend Reader x PolyAteez !

Warning : this chapter contains mentions of Ateez being careless , lots of crying , jumping off a cliff etc Please reminding me if I forgot something

Tag list : @legbouk , @scarfac3 , @m4rsluv , @hcyaa , @jackinmyarea , @layzfeelit , @loverlele , @mulletjoonsupremacy , @veneziamadness , @belle643 , @gugggu6gvai , @atinytinaa , @voidcupidz , @atinyreads , @baguette-atiny , @parkthothwa8 , @hwadump , @owjohny , @miaatiny , @honeyymon @tunaasan , @riririyuhn , @vixensss

Word count: 1,5k

" Im so exhausted and my feet hurt "

Wooyoung sighed out as he plopped on the couch massaging his feet groaning

" It took a lot longer than expected "

Yeosang laughed and removed his suit

" I was scared your mom was not going to like me to be honest "

Rin sat beside Wooyoung who chuckled and held her softly planting a kiss on her temple

" My mom is cautious, but she'll grow to like you so don't worry about it "

Yunho who's hair was now messy scratched his chest as he came into the kitchen looking around

" Do we still have those mini crackers? "

He looked inside the cupboards humming

" Don't open them it's from Y/n "

Seonghwa came into the kitchen stressed

" Where is she even? wasn't she supposed to be with us earlier? "

" Yeah but you and Jongho forgot to add her "

" When was I even supposed to ? "

Yunho opened the crackers anyways eating them as Seonghwa looked at him in disbelief

" We clearly talked about this last week ? how could you forget? "

" Gosh Seonghwa chill can't someone forget stuff? And why didn't you add her ? "

The younger walked out the kitchen leaving the elder to himself

" Hwa just go to bed , she's a grown woman "

Mingi yawned coming into the kitchen

"I'm just worried a little since it's really late and her phone is going straight to voicemail "

" Maybe she's on her way home let's just go to sleep she's grown and capable of knowing her way home stop stressing over nothing "

Seonghwa looked at the younger as he sighed , he just couldn't go to sleep like that his heart told him something was wrong and it put a huge weight on him

But at the end he just locked the door and turned the lights off hoping for her to return home by the time he woke up

___

The cold water embracing her body slowly numbed every part of her making it unable to move even if she wanted too

The struggling with breathing wasn't kicking in yet much to her liking

All her thoughts ran out freely as she just let herself sink further into the water

Was this really the right choice?

Or stupid to give up everything she fought for to be here in the first place?

It felt like an eternity as Y/n continued to sink but what scared her was when something grabbed her making her struggle against whatever it was

The muffled underwater screams didn't seem to do anything against the mysterious thing that kept pulling her upwards towards the light  coming from the surface

Y/n kept fighting against the mysterious thing that kept swimming upward

She gasped and coughed as she was held against something rock hard

" Are you insane ? You could've died ! "

The person yelled at her as he panted in fear looking at her

" Why didn't you let me sink ! Nobody would have cared if I disappeared for once "

She cried coughing

" Wait Y/n ? Why the heck would you do such a dangerous thing ?! do you know how much you scared me to death when I saw you jump ? "

It took her a good moment to notice that the person who basically saved her was one of Rowoons friends

" D-Dawon , I- "

" Look we'll talk about this later let's just get out of here before we get sick "

He sighed and started swimming towards the dry part with her on his back

" I'm sorry you had to save someone like me "

" Let's not do this now , I just want you to go home safely with me so we can talk "

He shook his head trying to get the water out his ears before he took her hand and walked up towards the place he dropped his bag when he jumped in

" I'm just glad you're safe "

The boy sighed out trying to calm down since he was still under shock

" I don't want to go home "

" Don't worry I'm not taking you there "

She stood there shivering as she looked at her bare feet while he fished into his gym bag For his towel

" Did you eat anything? "

Dawon dried her hair as she just stood there not responding

" It's ok if you don't want to talk , let's just call a taxi to our dorm since you don't want to go home and I won't force you "

He pulled out his phone called a taxi

" Yes we are near the Han river, yeah exactly there thank you "

She looked at him with tears extremely ashamed and feeling pathetic since she couldn't even succeed in this one thing

" Why did you jump in ? It would've been better if I was gone "

Dawon looked at her as he closed his eyes sighing before hugging her

" I'd never let someone die before my eyes, even if I didn't know you and I'm so glad I did because you're so young and you have so much to achieve, and Rowoon would be so devastated if I hadn't saved you and I'm sure other people as well would be broken "

“ I can’t do this anymore , I’m a failure I can’t even defend myself anymore ”

The girl cried on his wet shirt ,it was a lot of weight on her shoulders and how could she forget about that one person who cared about her the most , who was willing to love her like nobody else ever loved her

" I'm so sorry, I don't know why I did this in the first place I'm so ungrateful "

" Y/n please , it must have been hard if it drove you to do this "

He grabbed her face and wiped her tears away with his thumb before guiding her towards the taxi that just arrived

" Please don't tell Rowoon about this I don't want to worry him more than I have by ignoring his texts lately "

Dawon nodded and shut the taxi door as they drove in silence

———

Both of them entered the dorm quietly careful not to make any noise

" But I don't have any clothes "

Y/n shivered as she hugged herself as Dawon went into his room and came back with some clothes and a towel

" These are new boxers that I just bought recently you can wear them "

She took them and went to change after taking a hot  shower , but most of the time found herself shedding tears or starring at herself at the mirror the boys had in their bathroom

Were did she fail ? , was it really a blessing to still be breathing after her selfish act ?

After drying herself and blow drying her hair she stepped out of the bathroom and ran into one of the boys that was waiting so they could go to the toilet

" Oh I didn't know you were here "

" I myself didn't expect it either but it's good to see you again Jaeyoon "

He smiled and rubbed her head before dismissing himself to go to the toilet

" Hey you finished? "

Y/n nodded and looked around before fiddling with her fingers nervously

" Can you tell me were Rowoon's room is ? "

" He's probably asleep but go ahead it's the second door down the hall "

He smiled and said good night leaving her to herself in the semi dark hallway

Walking towards her best friends room she carefully opened the door and went inside , the room smelled so good it made her feel like home but yet so distant from it

She carefully went unter the covers but held her distance, it's like she felt it kinda being inappropriate being so close to him even thought they had watched films together in her room as he cuddled her

The moon made his face look so perfect and adorable as he slept soundless

How could someone as handsome like him like her let alone love her more than the best friend stage ? It was still a mystery to her

" Y/n is that you ? "

He asked without opening his eyes

" No it's not Y/n "

She changed her voice on purpose stiffening her laugh with tears

" Don't lie to me , it's smells like you "

He pulled the girl closer to him opening his eyes yawning

"Do I smell that good to be recognized ? "

" You always smell good and even from miles away I could tell that it's you "

She smiled softly letting him hold her , her worries long forgotten

“ I’m not even gonna ask you why you’re in my room this late at night , I’m just glad you’re alright and by my presence again ”

He smiled and softly yawned once again

“ Rowoon? ”

The boy hummed and kept yawning

“ Do you still love me ? ”

Rowoon opened his eyes meeting her glossy ones that stared back at him

“I do love you , but why are you asking me this ? Is everything alright? ”

“ How can you love someone as broken and insecure as me ? ”

She looked at him with lips in between her teeth due to her nerves playing with her

“ Because you deserve more , and you stole my heart with how sweet and caring not to forget how beautiful you are ”

The boy took her by the waist and smiled softly kissing her forehead

“These fools don’t know what they are missing out by not appreciating you enough and I just want a chance to show you how much you can be happy and appreciated ”

[charmandabear]

Office Hours: caught that fever, I shouldn't be here (4/16)

Pairing: Astarion/Named f!Tav Rating: Explicit Word Count: 3.5k Chapter tags/warnings: sexting, ruined makeup, mirror sex, red flag ass behavior, biting/blood drinking (full list on ao3)

Summary:

Every little touch or glance between Rosalind and Astarion causes a spark, and Rosalind's worried that something is about to catch fire.

Aaaaaaaaand here's chapter 4. I accidentally made this banner last week because I completely forgot about the Gale chapter. Oops lol. But this is almost entirely new content, maybe a few paragraphs were written prior but everything else is brand new. Hope you enjoy!

Next chapter ~ Read it on AO3 ~ Masterlist Office Hours playlist on Spotify

“Twice in less than a tenday, you lucky girl,” Shadowheart says with a sly smile, tucking her feet underneath her and holding out her wine so it doesn’t spill on her white couch. Rosalind hides her pink face behind a deep sip from her glass.

“I dunno, man. I can’t tell what he wants with me,” she says with a groan, putting her wine down on the coffee table and wrapping her arms around her knees.

“Well, what do you want with him?” Shadowheart asks plainly, as though answering is the simplest thing in the world. Rosalind scrunches her nose, unsure if she just doesn’t know the answer, or if she does know the answer and doesn’t want to say.

“I… I don’t know? Like obviously the sex is good. Really good,” she adds under her breath, and Shadowheart gives her a salacious look as her flush deepens. “But whenever he says more than five words I want to gouge my eyes out.”

“Is that really how you feel, or have you just convinced yourself to feel that way?” Shadowheart asks carefully, earning a glare from Rosalind. Nevertheless, she can’t bring herself to disagree, so she drops her less-than-menacing expression and covers her face in her hands. Taking a different approach, Shadowheart tries, “Walk me through the end again, right before the arcana professor came back in?”

“Ugh, I still can’t believe that happened. What a nightmare.” Rosalind takes another sip while Shadowheart stares at her pointedly. “Okay, he made some joke about having sex in my office, then I sort of hit him in like a ‘Stop it, you,’ kind of way, and then we like… hugged?” She recalls the events to the best of her ability. It’s been a fiveday already, and everything was a bit hazy to begin with.

“Did he seem sincere when he said it? Was it a ‘haha, jk… unless?’ sort of joke?” Shadowheart asks, and Rosalind realizes that her friend wouldn’t look out of place with a deerstalker cap and a pipe with the way she’s interrogating her. She stares blankly into her wine as she contemplates the question.

“It had enough plausible deniability to save himself from embarrassment. But he did seem kinda earnest, I think,” she finally settles on, and Shadowheart nods judiciously.

“So is that it? You’ll trade off fucking in each other’s offices until, what, someone catches you in the act?” she asks bluntly, and Rosalind almost chokes on her wine.

“I would certainly hope not! But I suppose,” Rosalind sighs, trying to decide if she’s ready to say the words aloud or not. “If he asked. I wouldn’t say no.”

“Asked what?” Shadowheart narrows her eyes, and Rosalind groans.

“You’re going to make me say it?” she whines.

“Yes.” Shadowheart stares at her without blinking.

“If he asked. Me out. On a date.” Rosalind breaks up the phrase, as though saying it continuously would hurt in some way. Shadowheart pats her knee sympathetically.

“See, was that so hard?” she asks, voice teasingly condescending.

“Yes, excruciating,” Rosalind pouts, taking a gulp of her wine.

***

Rosalind doesn’t see much of Astarion in the following days, but whenever she does, they share a secretive smile that sends a jolt of lightning right to her core. He’s far less aggressive in his attempts to fluster her, and she can only hope it means that they’ve called an unspoken truce. Nevertheless, she tries to temper her expectations so she’s not mildly disappointed every day that passes where Astarion doesn’t pull her into a supply closet. Years on various dating apps, and you haven’t been this down bad for someone in a while.

“Don’t forget that Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead opens in just over a tenday, so if you haven’t gotten your tickets, now would be a good time,” Rosalind projects over the sounds of her students packing up. “And if you don’t want to pay for a ticket, you can see the show for free if you sign up to usher.”

“Wait, we have to pay? Where do we sign up to do the usherin’ thing?” Dondo’s head pops out from the huddle of his friends, conspiring to do gods know what.

“At the box office, but Dondo, if you’re going to be an usher you need to show up an hour early and be ready to work, understood?” Rosalind sharpens her voice and the cheeky freshman gives her a salute. “Alright everyone, enjoy the fiveday break.”

Once most of the students have filed out of the classroom, Rosalind lets out a heavy sigh and presses the heels of her palms against her eyes, careful not to smudge her makeup. She’s very much looking forward to cracking open the bottle of wine in her fridge with Shadowheart later.

She walks past her office towards the bathroom at the end of the hall, scrolling through emails on her phone. She doesn’t see Astarion coming from the opposite direction and stops short of barrelling into him. They lock eyes and smile politely, then she steps to her left just as he steps to his right. They share an awkward laugh just as it happens again in the opposite direction. After another few seconds of uncomfortable shuffling, he takes her by her shoulders and moves her to the side. She gives him a chagrined smile and quickly walks past, trying to ignore the burning in her cheeks and the way her arms tingle where he touched her.

She gets to the bathroom and closes the door behind her, leaning against it to brace herself. Her stomach is roiling, though whether it’s from the embarrassment, the insatiable lust, or something else entirely, she can't quite tell. She wets a paper towel with cool water and presses it to the back of her neck. She stares at her reflection in the mirror, trying to will herself into temperance as drops of rapidly warming water run down her cleavage. It's a losing battle as the image of him bending her over the sink pops into her mind. She shakes her head, trying to think of something else, but that only makes it worse.

He has her pressed up against the bathroom door and with her wrists pinned together above her head.

No, stop, she scolds herself. But the second she banishes that image another one comes flooding in, her leg draped over his shoulder as he’s lightly sucking her clit with his fingers curled deep inside her.

Her phone buzzes suddenly, causing her to jump out of her filthy reverie. She looks at her screen to see a text from an unknown number.

-Darling, I can smell you through the door, it’s obscene.

She lets out an audible yelp and she immediately hears his laugh on the other side of the bathroom door. Is he just standing there?

-How the fuck did you get my number?

-Hope’s computer is not nearly as secure as it should be.

-Did it occur to you to just *ask* me?

-Now, where is the fun in that?

Rosalind grits her teeth but still finds herself suppressing a smile. He should not be this charming when he’s being a little shit. Before she can fully gather her thoughts, her phone buzzes again.

-Well, aren’t you going to take care of yourself?

She stares at her phone, mouth agape and cheeks quickly turning red. Her brain can’t formulate words, nevermind a response, but she doesn’t need to wait long for another text from him.

-If you don’t know where to start, I can talk you through it.

Her heart begins to pound as she pieces together what he’s suggesting. Her fingers shake as she hesitantly types her response.

-What should I do first?

She can picture the smile that spreads across his face, one of mischief and glee and wickedness. She leans her back against the door, breathing heavily as she waits for his first instruction.

-Touch your breast over that cute green sweater you’re wearing. Squeeze it, nice and slow. How does that feel?

She does as she’s told, fondling her breast with one hand and continuing to hold her phone with the other. Her nipple gets hard under her touch, eager for more.

-good

It’s a bit of a pain to stretch her left thumb across her screen, but she finds this too exciting to care. She imagines him leaning against the wall outside the bathroom, one long leg crossed over the other, looking completely unfazed. If anyone were to walk by, it would just look like he’s stopping to text.

-Lovely. Is your nipple poking through your sweater? Give it a twist. Don’t be shy about it, you know that I wouldn’t.

She pinches her nipple through the cotton of her sweater and just barely catches the moan as it escapes her lips.

-I heard that, very good.

She wants to curse his heightened hearing, but she’d be lying if she said it didn’t add to the thrill.

-Tell me, how wet are you between your legs?

She moves her right hand down her front, slipping it beneath her skirt and touching the apex of her thighs. She’s already soaked through her panties and tights.

-very

-How do you taste?

She exhales sharply as she feels herself clench around nothing. She presses against her damp tights and licks the moisture off her finger.

-salty. Bitter

-Now, I don’t believe that for a second. You tasted sweet, last I checked.

Her breath wracks through her chest, her head fogged up by a thick cloud of lust.

-Get a better sample. Straight from the source.

She bites down on her lip to stifle her whimper. She pushes her hand down past the waistband of her tights and panties and slips a finger between her folds, scooping up the pool of arousal that’s formed there. She slowly brings it to her mouth and gives a tentative lick.

-A little, yea

-Don’t hold back, darling. Give those fingers a nice thorough suck. For me.

His words make her squirm, but she follows his instructions nonetheless. She takes her ring finger in her mouth and presses her tongue against it. Tasting her slick pulls a moan out of her, and she drops her head back against the door.

-Oh yes, I liked that. Very good. Would you like to properly touch yourself?

-pls

-Good. Get rid of those tights completely. They’re just in our way.

Rosalind rolls her eyes, the illusion breaking just a bit. Does he know what a pain in the ass it is to fully take them off? Can’t she just push them down to her knees? He seems to be able to sense her hesitation and his response is quick.

-I could always come in there and rip them myself, dear, but I don’t think you want that again.

The feeling of exasperation clashes with her arousal unexpectedly. She finally sighs and gets to unlacing her Doc Martens before sliding off her tights, panties, and socks in a single motion. The tile is cold beneath her bare feet and she’s just grateful that they keep the faculty bathrooms clean.

-ok

-Good girl.

The praise stirs something deep within her and she lets out her most embarrassing noise yet. She slaps her free hand over her mouth and she hears him laugh again on the other side of the door.

-Noted. Now, I believe I said something about touching yourself properly?

She slides her hand back between her legs and brushes her middle finger over her clit, letting out a shaky breath.

-Start slow. Small circles. Tease yourself.

She follows his instruction and her hips buck eagerly into her hand. She likes to take her time with herself, but this is borderline excruciating. Or maybe it’s just because she knows he’s merely feet away and she’d rather have him touching her.

-How does that feel?

-ineed more

-Do you, now? Start with just one finger, your pointer.

She groans softly at the insertion, breathing heavily.

-Does that feel good?

-yea

In truth she’s craving so much more, but she’s afraid if she makes that clear he’ll slow down even further.

Although honestly, would he even know? She can touch herself however she wants, she doesn’t have to play along.

But something keeps her from defying his instruction. It may be a stupid game, and she may be frustrated, but she’s more turned on than she ever remembers being at the height of her relationship with Aradin.

-Put in a second finger. Slide them in and out. Fuck your fingers like they’re mine.

He doesn’t need to have vampiric hearing to hear the guttural noise she makes. She moves her fingers in and out, but it’s not nearly enough to be satisfying. She widens her stances to try to get deeper, and she pushes against the door, making it rattle.

-Very good. Faster.

She keens and speeds up her fingers, palming her clit desperately. Her breathing is shallow and she tries to picture those piercing red eyes looking at her over his glasses, his devilish smile with a single fang poking out. But her imagination isn’t doing the trick and her wrist is beginning to cramp.

She needs to feel him inside her.

-pls more

-I need

-A station

-fuck

-I need u

The fingers on her left hand shake as she tries to text a single coherent thought. She tries to give herself the relief she needs, but at this point he’s the only one who can satisfy her. She pushes herself against the door, whimpering and whining, until her phone buzzes again.

-Unlock the door.

She gasps and pulls off the door as quickly as she can, unlocking it with her slick hand. Astarion immediately bursts in and slams it behind him before pulling her into a crushing kiss. She hardly cares when she drops her phone and it clatters to the tile floor. Considering how composed his messages were, his appearance tells a completely different story. There’s a thin sheen of sweat across his brow and the tips of his ears are pink. Their hands fumble together at his belt, trying to get it undone as quickly as possible. She pushes his pants and underwear down to his knees and moans when she sees his cock, flushed and a pearly bead of precum at the tip. He doesn’t waste any time in hooking a hand under her knee and pressing it against the door, spreading her wide so he can easily push himself in up to the hilt. She groans when he bottoms out, her walls clenching around the sudden fullness.

“Gods, you feel good,” he moans as she slides her hands into his hair and pulls him closer, trying to feel as much of him as possible. She latches onto the left side of his neck, nipping and licking the cool flesh, savoring the sweet saltiness of his sweat. He shudders and digs his fingers into her thigh as he begins to pound into her properly, each thrust making the door shake.

“Astarion, yes, gods, this is—” Rosalind can barely string two words together so desperate is her need. She clings onto the back of his neck, rutting her hips to meet his. She’s already so close with all of his teasing. He presses his forehead into the crook of her neck and her head falls to the side, her eyes landing on the mirror above the sink. She sees only her own reflection from the waist up, disheveled and well-fucked, lipstick smeared from his abuse. She whimpers and squeezes her eyes shut in embarrassment.

“Eyes open, love,” he growls, his free hand grabbing her hair and keeping her head turned toward the mirror. “I want you to see how pretty you are when you come.” She whimpers but complies, seeing her flushed features contort with pleasure and her breasts pressed flat by his chest. He pistons his hips into her, picking up the pace and revving up her climax with it. His breath is heavy on her neck, and she’s struck with a dizzying thought.

“Fuck, Astar— I’m close— bite me,” she manages, twisting her fingers into his curls. He grunts in assent and sinks his fangs into her flesh; she watches her mouth fall open into a silent moan as the shards of ice melt into that sublime warmth. Tears form in the corners of her eyes and mix with her mascara to create dark smudges under her eyes. A single drop of her blood runs down her decolletage and disappears into her cleavage. The sight of her face deep in bliss, of the red rivulet coating her skin, the feeling of his cock stretching her out as she throbs around his length is all too much and sends her crashing over the edge. She can feel his climax nearly instantaneously as he snaps his hips into hers, his cock pulsing as it spurts into her.

She rides out the wave of her pleasure, growing lightheaded as he continues to drink, and it’s only when she starts to grow limp in his arms that he pulls away. She finally turns away from the mirror to see him breathing heavily and licking his blood-smeared lips. There’s a look in his eye even more wild than the other times he’s drunk her blood.

“Gods, that was…” he pants, and Rosalind giggles sleepily.

“Did it taste different?” she asks, barely thinking as she reaches out and swipes her thumb across his lips. He watches in astonishment as she licks her blood off her finger and contemplates the flavor.

“It— yes. Very.”

Rosalind smiles, pleased to see Astarion struggling to form a sentence just as much as she usually does. She looks down at her tights strewn across the bathroom floor and groans.

“I can’t believe you had me take them all the way off,” she whines, picking up the nylon bunched with her damp panties.

“I presume this is still preferable to me tearing through them,” he smirks, cocking an eyebrow. “Although if you don’t want to worry about it…” He gently takes her wrist and pulls her hand still holding the bundle to his nose, inhaling deeply. She bites her lip as he maintains intense eye contact with her. “I can always keep them for myself.”

She lets out a shaky breath before snatching the bunch back with a laugh. “You’re a fucking freak,” she says without a hint of malice, and his face breaks out in a grin.

“Looking at yourself in the mirror again, are you?” he retorts with his ringing giggle. She rolls her eyes and turns away to hide her giddy smile.

“Is the hallway clear?” Rosalind asks once she’s finished lacing up her boots. Astarion presses an ear to the door and she holds her breath.

“I hear someone down the hall. Let me leave first and I’ll text you when the coast is clear,” he says in a hushed tone. She nods and he stares at her for a moment, his expression unreadable. He plants a quick kiss on her lips before slipping quietly out the door. She stands in the middle of the single stall bathroom awkwardly and suddenly catches sight of her ruined face in the mirror. She rolls her eyes — yet another consequence that only she needs to deal with — and grabs a paper towel, carefully wiping off her makeup to the best of her ability. It’s not terribly effective without makeup remover, but she manages to leave her lips only slightly stained and the black rings around her eyes significantly reduced.

As she’s resetting her face, she continually glances at her phone, waiting for his text. When she’s finally put herself back together and still no text, she’s worried that he’s pranking her. She presses her ear to the door, straining to hear any signs of voices, but her hearing isn’t nearly as sharp as his. She’s just about to give up and leave when her phone buzzes.

-All clear.

Then, after a moment,

-Thank you. You were a very good girl.

Her breath hitches before she groans at herself. She doesn’t need to let herself get this wrapped around his finger, that seems like a recipe for disaster.

Rosalind is relieved to see that the hallway is, in fact, empty. She pulls her keys out of her skirt pocket and unlocks her office door, and she’s immediately hit with Astarion’s fragrance. She sniffs her sweater, trying to figure out if it’s just lingering on her, but she has her answer when she sees a note left on her desk in a tidy, elegant hand.

Let me make you dinner. Tomorrow at 7.

Below it is an Upper City address.

Rosalind’s heart begins to pound with excitement, and the exhilaration of the invitation is almost enough for her to ignore the fact that he broke into her office to leave it.

Almost.

[002yb]

Blanket apology on the lateness to all of these replies.  ┬┴┬┴┤･ω･)ﾉ

Head bonks when they’re brushing their teeth over one sink

A persisting argument of Dick wanting to save any stray bugs that make their way into their apartment while Jason wants to eradicate them (because Dick thinks they’re neat, but Jason associates them to an unkept home)

They don’t own a mop, so they make a conga line where Jason shuffles through with a wet towel and Dick shuffles through with a dry towel behind him

Dick coming home with groceries, only for the both of them to go back out again because he forgot the top thing on the list; it happens consistently and Jason has an inkling Dick does it on purpose (he does)

Whipping each other with towels and vaulting over furniture to escape impending doom

Tucked away in this ask, only I’m not sure what else to add hahaha.

Just Jason consciously falling in love with Dick over a series of mundane moments

So he associates all these little things with Dick in that way young lovers do

A certain route they patrolled, the flickering of a neon sign, the wind pulling through their hair as they sat up high on a skyscraper.  The pounding of his heartbeat as they chased each other, the sweltering heat of a humid day or the smell of a coffee – warm where Dick pressed it to Jason’s cheek and warm throughout his body when Jason sipped at it and let it chase away all the fatigue.  Dawn on the horizon with Dick at Jason’s window - lingering just a moment longer.

Jason being very aware of how smitten he is and doing nothing about it.  Just basking in the present moments as they come and being content in their afterglow.

This is perfection.  No notes.  Superb.

Uaaaaaahhhhhhhh an art like this must exist, right?  It’s too good not to!!  Damian being ornery with Dick in this sort of capacity (with them both fawning over Jason) is probably my most favorite dc fanon thing hahaha.  Thank you for the visual of this, anon!

Hahaha, how Dick keeps his degeneracy under wraps is beyond Jason, truly.  Truth be told though, it stops being discreet because Jason’s reactions to all of Dick’s dirty talk is so obvious.  That’s okay though because Dick doesn’t mind.  Even if he goes down, Jason goes with him; they’re partners in life and in their perverse ways.  An accusation Jason adamantly refuses because they are not the same; no way!

To which Dick will roll his eyes but it’s whatever.  Denial is the first step to acceptance.  That besides, it’s not like Jason isn’t the one pulling Dick aside or beckoning him someplace private after Dick drops those suggestions. ;)

Hahaha, the perpetually single ones for sure.  But I think those who are in committed relationships would be overwhelmingly fond and nostalgic.  Seeing dickjay’s young love, so new and sweet and exciting, would remind them of back when they were first falling in love.  And it’d maybe spark some rekindled romance in their own relationships as they reminisce.

Meanwhile dickjay admiring those who have been in relationships longer because they’re comfortable and settled and really?  They can’t wait to be there, but for now Dick and Jason just enjoy each other day by day. //u///

There’s a story sitting in my drafts that covers this.  It’s been done for months but tbh having to tag on ao3 is such a daunting thing.  I’ll try to get this posted for you soon, anon.

This exchange is the closest to eldritch!Dick as I can imagine.

Will-o-Wisp!Dick lives in my head rent free and it’s the closest I think I can get to something eldritch (because I’m dumb I don’t actually get what it’s supposed to be LOL).  Or something akin to a will-o-wisp.  With Dick being able to twist his voice and image to lure people into the bog that is Gotham’s bowels.  He usually makes himself known as a robin chirping in the night; a warning song.

Other times he’ll appear as a child, dashing through shadows with laughter echoing through alleys.  A beautiful boy that lures criminals away from the main streets and any lingering lights, or guides innocents someplace safer.

And then there’s Dick Grayson, grown and bewitching with the mirthful light in his eyes and a wicked smile; bared teeth and a jaw that might be too sharp.

Dick becoming an urban legend in his own right.  Where he’s ‘passive,’ only not really.  He guides people through Gotham and depending on the situation, Dick will bring them home.  Or he’ll walk them off a building’s ledge, into oncoming traffic, or for those most wicked – infront of the muzzle of Red Hood’s gun.

This post.

Ahahahaha, thank you so much!  Jason getting all flustered after being exposed (by himself, no less) is so charming.  For as much as I love maiden!Jason, he’s probably a bit of a freak ngl.  Like Jason probably kink shames himself after bringing up something he’d like to try with Dick and Dick sputters because the depravity is !!!

Just Jason basing the validity of some of his kinks on Dick’s reaction to them because Dick is the most depraved man he knows.

Of course even when Jason catches Dick off guard (surprisingly often), Dick gets on board real quick.

But yeah, without fail I think it’s always Jason that exposes his own kinks.  And he’s not casual about it at all once he realizes and that exposes himself further and it’s the most vicious of cycles, hahaha.

In reply to this ask.

Tbh, no change LOL.  Dick’s domesticity kink and how he reacts to Jason being domestic transcends time and circumstance.  So, basically:  Simp King!Dick Grayson.  Who is genuinely turned on by stupid, mundane domestic things but who also plays up his reactions because it makes Jason laugh and fluster and Dick loves to see that.

The visual of Dick being taken out at the knees or falling into the wall for support or just keeling over a bit while biting his sleeve because Jason is cooking/cleaning/doing laundry is just so silly hahaha.  Or even Dick just being all sparkly and flowery because yeah, check out his boyfriend (only don’t, thanks) being so sweet and caring and wonderful.  //U////

But also the heated moments because of course.  Where Dick:

Hooks his chin over Jason’s shoulder as Jason cooks something over the stove.  Hands on Jason’s hips and peppering kisses just below Jason’s ear (and in abo setting getting a little high off of Jason’s scent because nothing is more tantalizing than that).  And Jason tries to turn around so that they can fool around a bit, but Dick is all, ‘nope, keep cooking //W////’ and proceeds to just shower Jason in some heavy petting

Oh.  Basically the above, but Jason is washing dishes.  And Dick manages to make Jason come with only the graze of Dick’s teeth at his nape and some dirty promises

Dick pushing Jason back onto a pile of unfolded laundry and having his way with him right there.  ANd Jason loves it in the moment, caught between still hot clothes and Dick burning above him.  Up until they get off and Jason realizes he has to redo laundry.  Again.

It’s cool though.  Dick joins him and they fuck again with Jason bent over the wash, detergent spilling everwhere.

Omg they’re fooling around as the washer is going only to have it flood with suds because they accidentally spilled in too much detergent ahhhahaha

Honestly torn between Damian wholeheartedly believing possessiveness = protectiveness, or whether he's aware of the difference but was impacted by losing Jason (when Jason left the League) and that loss fucked him up in a way that makes him believe that to keep someone close, you've got to own them. 🤔

Either way, Damian rates Dick low because there's always room for improvement.  There's potential, surely, but generally Dick is too nice.

As for something that constitutes Dick being bumped up to a 10?  Ahahaha, Vampire King!Dick turning Jason and making him his vampire queen and doing so in a way where Jason can only feed on Dick to survive.  And when Jason tries a hunger strike, Dick retaliates by starving Damian somehow.  It's an inconceivable thought if only because Dick is so soft on him, but it would prove very telling.

Hello, hello~ I’m getting by alright.  Sorry that I’ve not been posting much though!  And that it took so long to reply to this ask. ;3;

But yeah, Talia and Jason.  Because I’m a sucker for Jason whump forever and always, I’m partial to a relationship where Talia only cares for Jason because of his relationship with Bruce.  So there’s no love or genuine affection there for Jason as an individual, just as a convenient means of achieving a faroff goal.  Where Jason is, once again, collateral damage.

That’s a disservice to Talia though so like, reserved mother figure or just a lady who is fond of the nanny/bodyguard she found for her son is cool, too!

Thank you for reading so many of my posts!  It makes me happy that you enjoyed enough to read more. ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～ ♡

Jason winning over the hearts of all the shop employees because despite his intimidating stature, Jason is a timid maiden as he wanders the shop.  His gaze keeps wandering to the delicate lingerie and corsets, but Jason’s convinced it’d be dumb on him because he’s not exactly dainty

Queue encouraging salespeople and clientele and Jason being so flushed that everyone falls in love with him

Also everyone being like, hot damn, because that bust to waist ratio?  Sinful.  Who’s the lucky guy that landed him?

It’s the atmosphere of the place that gets Jason sharing a picture of Dick and oh boy does Jason preen as everyone admires his boyfriend.

Just Jason having a good time despite the initial (and persisting because he’s a maiden) embarrassment lol.

And then he gets home and omgggggg Dick

Dick sneaks in and catches Jason trying to lace up the corset on his own and Dick is such a goner because hot damn hot damn he’s fainting don’t call for help though, just cushion his fall with those bolstered tits; let Dick catch himself with hands braced on that cinched waist fuuuuuuuuuu–

For real, Dick is just so delighted because Jason is so gorgeous (and cute and sweet, because of course he flusters and tries to explain everything away, but Dick isn’t a fool; he’s fully encouraging and supportive)

Then it’s just Dick pulling the corset tight for Jason

And marveling at the way he pulls Jason’s breath from him

Looking over Jason’s shoulder to watch Jason watching himself in the mirror

Then running his hands over Jason so that he can watch through the mirror

And when their eyes catch Jason is blushing red and the corset already has him short of breath, but seeing Dick’s heated gaze has him feeling faint–

Then Jason wakes up and Dick is all sheepish because he might have pulled the corset too tight, whoops; they were both a little overzealous

Dick wanting to go with Jason the next time he goes shopping.  He wants to pick something for him, too ;)

This ask.

Bahaha for comedy the baby is absolutely Clark and Jason's. Logic be damned, Bruce would be positively teeming with rage directed solely at his 'partner,' his 'better half,' his 'we're divorced now' bestie and just. One would think Superman went and impregnated Bruce's babygirl as opposed to the cloning that actually happened.

But yes, basically Bruce being mad because:

Clark 'knocked up' Bruce's darling babygirl

Clark is the father

The baby isn't Bruce's

Poor Clark can't catch a break, either, because Dick? He is his adoptive daddy's son through and through and is also teeming with rage directed solely at his 'hero,' his 'most revered mentor,' his 'i'm disowning myself now' second father figure because like. Really?? Dick just bought a ring?? ('But you haven't had your first date yet?' Clark would note, to which Dick would bristle because, 'It's serious-- ;n;').

Let's not forget Damian 'brocon' Al Ghul-Wayne, either. Because ahahaha. Even while Jon is dropping the biggest hints about being disappointed and wanting to start a family with Damian, Damian is zeroed in on Jon's dad because Clark and Jason? Absolutely not. As you might guess, Damian is teeming ahahaha. Because to him, Jason is simultaneously mother and babygirl. In that same vein, Damian's place as t h e b a b y in Jason's life has been stolen from him and he's distraught.

Meanwhile Tim is with Kon and they're just like, PHEW. Thank fuck. But then just a few seconds later they're fooling around because, 'no clones here; I'll put a baby in you myself,' and 'yeah? go ahead and try. ;)'

[reallypleasanttree]

@strarri After reading chapter 10 of Kimetsu Academy I was inspired.

Obamitsu-Kimetsu Academy AU 🐍🩷🍡

It started with a snake scarf and an embroidered pair of socks. Mitsuri always gave Obanai gifts, but over time they started exchanging gifts on nearly every date. They ranged from sweets to bitter drinks to plushies and more. 

Mitsuri sipped on her bubble tea enjoying the brown sugar boba as she thought about what she could give Obanai next. She had been so busy with graduation coming up that she didn’t have time to see him. He was supposed to come to her graduation with her family. It’d only be the second time they met him, but they seemed to get along. 

Mitsuri frowned thinking about the last time she saw him. They went to the strip mall for drinks and a movie. It was a drama film about a boy raised in the woods by a boar. However the mama boar died at the end and the boy was left alone. Mitsuri ended up crying and Obanai passed her his handkerchief with her cat drawing. 

They left the theater holding hands and then venturing in and out of all the stores. Cooking, accessory, jewelry, pet, and plant shops. Kaburamaru enjoyed the pet shop the most and bobbed his head up and down excitedly when he saw another white rat snake. After Mitsuri saw that she forgot about the sad ending. Obanai smiled at the white snake and Mitsuri. He wasn’t a man of many words, but his eyes were expressive enough. 

Hmmm…Mitsuri chewed on her straw. On that date Obanai bought her succulent plant after she said she liked them. Though when she said she liked them she had been looking at a necklace with a succulent at the jewelry store. She flushed at the memory. The necklace was way too expensive and when she saw the price tag she pulled Obanai out of the shop. He’d never given her jewelry before.

Should she give him a plant in return? She wrinkled her nose and kicked her feet in the chair. No. He wasn’t the type to like plants. What else had he mentioned recently needing? Or did Kaburamaru need something? 

Obanai said his first lab coat was getting frayed on the cuffs. Maybe she could mend them. She could add black and stripes! Or maybe a snake pattern! She giggled at the idea. Obanai normally wore his cuffs over his hands. He’d be so cute with new ones. How would she be able to get his lab coat without raising suspicion? Maybe she could invite him over directly after work or ask his students to help… the ones who delivered her letter. 

Mitsuri tapped her temple. Tanjiro and Zenitsu loved Obanai. Of course they would be willing to help. 

———-

Zenitsu glanced at the chemistry lab door. Miss Kanroji asked him and Tanjiro to get Mr. Iguro’s lab coat. She said she wanted to mend it without him knowing it as a gift. The blonde knew Obanai and Mitsuri loved each other and at heart he was a hopeless romantic. 

Inosuke was supposed to make a distraction that would cause Mr. Iguro to leave the classroom. There was a screech and the clash of glass. Then Inosuke ran down the hallway with feral gremlin energy. The chemistry teacher opened the door as Zenitsu turned to hug the lockers. Tanjiro would run interference if Zenitsu couldn’t find the lab coat. 

“Get back here, Hashibira!” Mr. Iguro charged past Zenitsu without seeing him. Zenitsu crept to the door trying not to make any sound. He closed the door behind him and started looking through the desk drawers. The first drawer had office supplies, the second drawer had his lunch box and a post-it note with a heart on it(Mitsuri must have given it to him), and the third drawer had treats for the snake. 

Zenitsu glanced at the door and his heart raced. He heard Inosuke screaming still and the chemistry teacher chasing him. Sweat poured down his forehead. He was not made for covert missions like this. Except he was the one with the best hearing, which made it easier for him to detect someone coming back. He spun around to the file cabinet and pulled open every drawer. At least he could be grateful for how organized the teacher was. Everything had a place and-

His brown eyes widened as he noticed a small velvet box with a silver clasp on the front. Was that what he thought it was? Because if it was then Miss Kanroji’s gift would pale in comparison. He reached to the box despite his better instincts telling him to keep searching for the old lab coat. The anxious student opened the clasp and it was indeed what he assumed. He gasped and hurriedly put it back where he found it. 

“Lab coat,” Zenitsu muttered to himself and continued searching until he found the old lab coat in the bottom drawer of the second cabinet he searched. Tanjiro was approaching with the chemistry teacher. 

“I don’t want to buy any trinkets for a fundraiser, Mr. Kamado,” the black haired man bristled. 

“But I need to raise more money so Nezuko can go to Kyoto with her classmates,” Tanjiro continued. Zenitsu stuffed the lab coat under his uniform’s sweater and edged towards the door. He could slip by if Mr. Iguro had his back turned. The student chanced a glance out the small window on the door. The teacher had his back turned to the door and Tanjiro spoke louder as Zenitsu gave him a thumbs up. 

“Think of my little sister,” the boy repeated, but the teacher shook his head. Zenitsu glued himself to the wall and exited the classroom. 

“I don’t have any money left to give away. I just bought something for-” Mr. Iguro paused and began turning his head towards Zenitsu. Without fail, Tanjiro grabbed the teacher’s face to hold it in place. 

“Wait, you’ve got something in your eye,” the maroon haired boy said with all the sincerity he could muster. The white snake around the man’s shoulder hissed. “I think it could be doubt,” Tanjiro nodded as if agreeing with himself. Zenitsu inched further away. If he could get to the bathroom, he could pretend he had been there the entire time. 

“Get your hands off of me,” the teacher said firmly. Zenitsu could feel the air change. A certain aura darkened the hallway. He saw Mr. Iguro grab Tanjiro’s wrist and push him away. “If you ever touch me again, you will have three times more homework than everyone else until the end of your school days here,” he threatened. Tanjiro instantly dropped his other hand. 

Keep going, keep going, keep going, Zenitsu repeated to himself as he all but ran to the bathroom. This mission was worth it though. In honor of true love, it was worth it. Zenitsu grinned. If everything went well, Miss Kanroji would soon be Mrs. Iguro. 

———-

Graduation went smoothly. Mitsuri went through the line to shake hands with the university president and almost nearly tripped one time over the threshold between the stage and staircase. Her mom probably caught it on camera much to her embarrassment. Obanai told her her clumsiness was adorable and her face turned into a cherry. 

After dinner with her family, Obanai asked if she wanted to take an evening stroll through the park. They walked hand in hand as the sun started to set. He led her towards the fountain as she babbled about her new job. 

“I’m sort of nervous about working for her, you know? I worked at the pizza shop for so long, I’ll probably start listing off pizza toppings instead of plotlines,” she said. “I’m honored to collaborate with a best selling shojo artist, but it’s wild to think I was picked out of a thousand applicants.”

“Because she knows you’re the most talented upcoming manga artist,” Obanai reassured her. She was lucky to be with such a kind gentleman. The water fountain was coming into view. It was at the center of the park and one of Mitsuri’s favorite spots in the city. It was so pretty with the mermaid and koi fish statues decorating the centerpiece. The mermaids held vases to pour water out of while the koi circled the perimeter. 

“Do you want to sit down for a bit?” Obanai asked and she nodded. She bounced up to the stone bench next to the fountain. Mitsuri sat down and flashed her boyfriend a smile. This was the perfect end to her day. Graduation, dinner with her family, and an evening with her boyfriend. She would give him his mended lab coat when they got back to her car. He was going to freak out when he saw it. Just thinking about it made her giddy. 

“I could spend every day like this,” Mitsuri commented. “Seeing my family and then hanging out with you. You’re my favorite person. Oh, remind me I have a gift in my car for you.”

Obanai was still standing and she gently tugged on his hand to have him sit down. His sweet eyes focused on her. His brows were relaxed and he was smiling under the mask. With his free hand, he reached up to remove the white mask. Mitsuri tilted her head. His allergies were especially bad during the summer. 

“You shouldn’t take off your mask! The pollen count is really high today,” Mitsuri panicked, reaching up to put the mask over his face again. “I don’t want you to get sick or have a coughing fit.”

“It’ll be fine for a second,” Obanai cleared his throat. His palms were sweating now from the humidity. “You’re my favorite person too. When I’m with you I forget about all my problems and just have fun.” He pulled something out of his pocket. A small maroon velvet box. Mitsuri covered her mouth as Obanai got down on one knee. Was he going to- Water already started leaking from her eyes. 

“I want to spend every day with you. From this day to my last. I want to see your bubbly face each morning. Each afternoon I want to see you eating sakura mochi and each evening I want to kiss you good night. Will you marry me, Mitsuri?” Obanai asked. His voice began to shake towards the end. Hesitantly, he opened the jewelry box to reveal a golden ring with emeralds surrounding a pink diamond to match her hair. 

“Yes!” Mitsuri screamed and threw herself on him in her excitement. His back hit the pathed ground and she draped herself over him. “Yes, yes, yes,” Mitsuri said, green eyes flashing. She brought her lips to his, giving him a peck. He didn’t like public displays of affection, but she couldn’t control herself. Obanai returned her smile before coughing. 

“Oops, sorry,” Mitsuri climbed off of him and sat on the ground beside him. Obanai sat beside her and took the ring out of the box to place on her left. “I think you just gave me the best gift possible,” she said admiring the glimmering jewels. “This is so much better than what I got you.”

“Doubtful,” he said. “You just gave me the best gift of all. The promise to marry me and live together until we’re old and gray,” he ran a thumb over her cheek. Now she sucked in her breath as large tears rolled down her face. He stole her words.

[my-names-angel-but-im-not-one]

Replaced or not?

Part-1 Part-2 Part-3 Part-4 Part-5 part-6

For summary n details check out part-1

Pairing: Obey Me Characters x Mc!

"...."

"...."

"...."

"...."

Everyone was silent now. I look around to watch their face .

'seems to be in a quite distress huh' i thought.

'But I'll have to give an answer...agh.' As i opened my mouth to speak another voice squeaked .

"NO!!" Run-hai spoke as she got up from her table .

I looked at her with an raised eyebrows what is she up to .

"i-i mean y/n here is an exchange student she's not an object you can't just take her like a property!!! " She said.

'Damn this the same bitch who treated me like shit'

"This.. i don't like this "

"Yes you tell them Lucifer diavolo won't approve of this!!!" Run-hai spoke.

"This is her choice run hai what diavolo have to say would not matter in this decision "

Everyone started looking at me witch expectant eyes.

'Ok you can say this y/n a simple no and everything thing would go back to being.......like shit!'

"Yes i accept"

"What!!! No human you can't do this!!! As your first i order you to-"

"you can do no shit mammon sit down, and you Lucien don't think i like you or something....i just want to be away from these brothers "

"why would you say something like that sweetie"

"shut the fuck up asmo take your whore and leave"

"Don't talk like that to run-hai y/n I'm gonna tell you this one las-" belphegor spoke.

"you ain't gonna tell me shit little buffalo"

"You guys all of you made me feel like shit from the start like only run-hai was supposed to be here and not me , i always tried to gain your friendship but NOOO you guys only like whores like her, do you even know what she did to me huh? She always used to say fucking bad rumors about me , she back bitched about me and even bullied me and she did the same thing here , Tell me what will diavolo think of you Lucifer if he came to know you let me get bullied huh? I tried to tell you multiple time but you never cared about it and always rubbed me off like I'm some sort of pest. All of you i hate all of you" i screamed my heart of them as they just stand their looking guilty.

"I apologize-"

"Apologizing would do you no shit Lucifer leave "

___________________________

As all the brothers left Satan remained behind

"y/n i-"

" none of that was meant for you Satan you know that "

"I know and I'm sorry i couldn't protect you better"

"it's ok , I'll live"

Satan smiled at me as he took his leave .

I sighed as i felt arms around my waist enclosing me to something warm .

"y/n~"

"hmm..."

"That was some really good acting"

I smirked " i know right I'm so good at this".

[A/N]: is that a plot twist you smell huh *sniff* *sniff* yes i suppose.

Also I'm thinking of writing some one shots... Should I guys you tell me !! Also please leave a feedback it helps with motivation.

Tag list :

@obeymediasimp @c4xcocoa @gatorcatally @trisharay13 @candydreamer122 @hasty-desert @your-next-daydream @morphit @enheduannasposts @misscaller06 @buggaboorenegade @ellie3467 @hoeinthehouse @dreamieeesposts @viemags @arnixx @shycreatorsandwich @i-dont-know-what-to-name @gamerhumayra @gale-vendavel @darlink-xoxo @lunar-sangtsu @teal-clouds-sword @amandarosebts @sleepy-lune

If I forgot to add someone please lemme know in the DM. If anyone else wants to be tagged lemme know in the comments. Tags will be closed after the next chapter.

[azriel-scum]

It wasn't supposed to be this way - Part 2

Hi hey hello! Part 2 is here! I'm worried that there are some inconsistencies from part 1 to part 2 and if there are certain things that don't add up. I wanted to get this out, but I'm also considering going back to revise both parts to make sure it flows!

This is my first time actually posting fanfiction, I've been reading it for as long as I can remember and writing here and there, but I feel like I'm still trying to nail down my writing style. I might make some minor changes, but I'm very much open to any feedback!

Warnings: Domestic abuse

Tags: @littleffawn, @frogsandhomicidalducks

Walking with her head low, Elara neared the center of the city.

It was heartbreaking to walk through the city this way - actively trying to avoid everyone, trying to not be recognized.

Velaris meant a lot to everyone in the inner circle and Elara would never try to claim that it meant more to her than anyone else. All of them would unquestionably lay down their lives to protect this place - Gods Rhysand had done just that - had experienced something worse than death for fifty years straight.

At the risk of being too self important, some days she felt like Rhysand was the only person who could truly relate to how she felt about how deeply her soul was intertwined to this city. The fae who lived here, their families, their stories. It wasn't just that - it was the priestesses in the library, it was the Illyrian warriors who had been outcasts of the camps, and all of the other souls this city has taken in.

Having to hide herself away from the citizens of the city, sneak around to hide a dark and twisted secret, being too ashamed to show her face - was truly heartbreaking to her. It affected her in a way that most would never understand. She ached to describe this feeling to someone, to unload the heavy mass of shame she was carrying, but who could she possibly tell?

Rhysand was the closest thing she had to an older sibling, he understood the way she grew up and where she came from, understood how much this city meant to her and above all else, truly understood the burden of having others rely on you to perform and deliver what was needed of you.

Rhysand's inner circle were trusted individuals, they were competent - they did what needed to be done and they rarely, if ever, let themselves slip away from that. How could he continue entrusting her with the city if Elara couldn't even be trusted with making the right decisions about her personal life?

Somedays it felt like the shame she carried was more visible than any bruise Merikh could've ever given her.

She neared her mother's house, somewhere she had once loved, a place that once represented freedom and new beginnings, now a house of looming death.

There was a group of young Fae walking on the other side of the road, bright eyed and eager, Elara looked up and smiled at them out of habit. One of her most favorite things to do was visit the schools in Velaris as often as she could. For a moment she foolishly forgot about being on guard, and wistfully thought about what it would be like to hit a reset button, to have developed differently, to give the chemicals in her brain a second chance. To be a young female again, bright eyed and eager about the world.

From behind her, a steady and authoritative male voice spoke with the calmness and respect that only a trained and diplomatic soldier can master.

"Governess"

Her back straightened at the exact same moment that her heart stopped beating. Slowly, she turned around, because what other choice did she have?

As she turned around, the male's head was still ducked into a bow and Elara had a fleeting thought - this was the one millisecond she had before he would see the state of her neck and face, the very last moment before she would have to come up with some kind of explanation. As the male raised his head to look her she ducked her head briefly as a sign of respect, never quite used to having people bow to her and never wanting to leave it unanswered.

Raising her head to look at the male, she recognized him as being a spy from the night court, one of Azriel's trusted soldiers.

"Sylas," she greeted him with a smile, lest he sense anything amiss with her, "to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I've just returned from a mission and was walking through the city. I saw you from across the way and thought I would say hello," His tone was easy and he was smiling, but Elara was keenly aware of him cataloging her appearance.

Quick on your feet Elara

"Well that makes two of us, I've just returned to the city and was paying my mother a visit," the lie slipped out easily and much more naturally than she could've hoped for. "I trust I'll be hearing about your travels and the state of Prythian soon." Elara received weekly reports, occasionally from Azriel, but more often than not he was away and the report came from one of his spies.

Sylas nodded affirmatively and replied "I look forward to hearing about your mission as well," pointedly, he looked at the bruises on her face, "I'd hate to see what your opponent looks like."

Elara's heart dropped and her anxiety spiked, but ever the composed warrior she simply gave Sylas a conspiratorial smile and wink.

"I'll see you at our next meeting, take care of yourself, Sylas"

He briefly bowed his head one final time and with that he was off.

fuck. fuck. fuck.

What were the odds a spy trained to work under Azriel himself didn't see straight through that entire interaction?

Elara wouldn't bet anything valuable on it. She just hoped he had enough discretion to keep his mouth shut.

With her face bruised, her heart pounding and her head held high she entered her mother's house.

She opened the door to good natured chaos.

Endor and Elvira had music playing through the house and they were dancing in the living room - trying and failing - to spin each other around. Her mother was sitting up in her recliner, laughing, a rare but golden sight to see.

For a brief moment, Elara stood at the door, her family not quite noticing her yet and she smiled, a glimpse of the version of her family without the abuse and the hardship.

Her brother twirls Elvira around and as she turns she catches a glimpse of Elara standing at the door.

"Ellie!! What are you doing here?" her sister runs across the room, but stops halfway, "what happened to see your face?"

Ellie offered her a simple sheepish shrug and said simply "duty called again."

Elvira laughed and hugged her, Endor gave her a fist bump, and her mother just shook her head and smiled.

A wave of shame crashed over her.

Her job obviously required that she be diplomatic and act with discretion, if that meant lying or being a little manipulative, so be it - but this kind of behavior had never infiltrated to her personal life, to her personal relationships.

Elara had perfected the art of compartmentalizing quite a few hundred years ago - and she shoved this feeling into dungeon cell in the depths of her brain and stored it under lock and key.

Her siblings had already gone back to dancing and her both motioned to the seat beside her.

For the next few hours they laughed and talked, her and her brother cooked lunch, and they sat around her mother, just being in her presence.

A good reminder for Elara that she needed to do this more often.

The music had been stopped for a while, Laurel had dozed off and Endor had gone to train with some friends. The two sisters were sitting out in the backyard and it was nice - there were so many things Elara wanted to discuss with her - the state of relationship, her mother, Elvira's future and a number of other things that could and should be address but it all felt too heavy to bring up now.

Sitting out in the sun made Elara feel much better, her wings felt less sore and when she had looked in the mirror earlier, the bruises were mostly faded, the accelerated healing finally starting to kick in. She had barely thought about Merikh since being here; her mind wouldn't allow her to out of pure preservation. She did allow her mind to wonder where he was, if he had returned to their apartment, if she should go back there and if he would be in a good mood if she did.

Without warning, there was a knock on her mental shields. Elara immediately recognized it as being Rhysand. Immediately, she opened a small sliver of her mind.

"El, come to House of Wind as soon as possible. No immediate threat to the city, but we have intel that needs to be discussed."

She responded affirmatively and stood up. "Sorry little sis, duty is calling. Tell Mom and Enny I'll be back sometime this week, I love you."

Her sister, as the rest of her family, was used to her having to dash off for various reasons with little to no warning. She simply nodded and Elara was off.

She flew over the city to the house, wings sore and mind heavy. Elara allowed herself for just a moment to consider her current situation and what she would do.

Leaving. Leaving was the only option. She knew that, had for some time.

She arrived to the house and was immediately greeted by Feyre.

"I know I said we wouldn't bother you, I'm terribly sorry."

Elara shook her head and smiled duty calls.

She followed Feyre into the dining room. Rhysand was sat at the head of the table, Cassian was standing at his side energy buzzing through him and Azriel was sat slightly off to the side shrouded in shadows; Amren and Mor sat toward the middle of the rectangular table. Elara recognized a few of Azriel's spies and a few of Cassian's soldiers.

She scanned around the rest of the table and had to physically restrain herself from reacting. Merikh sat at the other end of the table speaking with Sylas, Azriel's spy whom she had crossed paths with earlier in the day. Her heart started to race, but she made a conscious effort to slow it down, lest she spread a scent of fear or anxiety throughout the room.

Rhysand looks up to see his Governess entering the room his eyes glaze over ever so slightly and he spoke to her mind.

Sylas went out to the northern steppes this morning. We had heard word of an errant camp leader that had moved his people closer to the mountain, he's amassed a larger group under his lead and he's been conducting some very concerning drills and shows of strength.

It was not unusual for Illyrian camp leaders to be causing unrest. While Elara herself was not directly responsible for this area, it was very pertinent that she was made aware of disruptions or possible sources of conflict. Usually, though it would not have required an emergency meeting.

Rhys must have sensed Elara's slight confusion and he continued his explanation.

Of course, as you know, these kinds of things aren't unusual. Sylas came back and gave report, we weren't particularly concerned, but Azriel heard one of the names of the Illyrians and recognized him as being a citizen of Velaris.

An active member of the camp or a hostage? That felt like a ridiculous question, but the whole scenario was borderline unbelievable. Neither option seemed realistic, but how else would a citizen of Velaris join a camp in the Illyrian steppes. Why else?

It seems he is an active member by choice. How or why he got out there I'm really not sure. We have Merikh monitoring the situation, but of course it's something to keep an eye on. We can't have them recruiting people out of Velaris.

Certainly not.

She turned around to the rest of the room. Merikh was trying to make eye contact with her, she could feel a little bit of his anxious energy. Maybe he was trying to gauge her thoughts, figure out how volatile she was feeling. In their home, Merikh might have the power over her, but in this house and with these people, Merikh was lucky to have even found someone to take the time to bring him up to the meeting room.

Rhys nodded toward her. Your meeting Elara Starlight, we follow your lead.

She made eye contact with Azriel and Cassian, smiling to acknowledge them. Cassian smiled back, Azriel simply nodded. There was something about his silent acknowledgement that gave her a boost of confidence.

Addressing the room she asked, "what do we know about the citizen of Velaris? How could he have gotten to the steppes?"

Sylas opened his mouth to speak, after getting a small go ahead gesture from Azriel, but Merikh was quicker.

"I believe he was frustrated with the lack of opportunity here, there have been a lot of changes and there's no place for a male like him anymore. He seems like a restless male that would've been better suited for the Illyrian lifestyle. If he fits better there, why would we bring him back?"

Elara couldn't find a way to respond to that without blasting him out of his seat, so she simply stayed silent and turned toward Sylas.

He ducked his head toward her, "Governess, I can't say why he joined, but I do believe that the leader of this particular camp is ramping up his recruiting efforts. He's very eager to grow his numbers and spread his message."

Azriel added in "We will be running missions through that region regularly and making contact with leaders and members. I feel we should have extra boots on the ground here in order to ensure we're not losing anymore of our citizens to this cause."

"I'll speak to my contacts throughout the city to see if I can better understand the situation and will of course report back. Azriel, we'll be in touch about missions and Sylas," she turned to the spy, "I might pull you in for some intel gathering around the city and I would like to go out to the Illyrian steppes to see it for myself." Elara hadn't been out to Illyria in quite some time, she was not necessarily eager, but there a was a threat to be handled and she knew she needed to be out there.

Elara opened her mouth to ask Cassian a question about the Illyrian soldiers and if there were any grumblings across their ranks but Merikh stood up before she could get the words out.

Her anxiety spiked and dread overwhelmed her. If it was possible to die of second hand embarrassment, Elara's death would be the most eminent it ever had them.

"Now hold on, I'm the emissary between these lands, I should be the one to go. I would not need an spy escort to make sure I'm not raped and maimed for a simple visit. We've already lost a citizen to their groups, it doesn't -"

"If the governess wishes to visit the Steppes, I will see to it that she makes the visit." Azriel spoke with such finality that everyone was quiet for several moments.

Rhsyand had been quiet for the majority of the conversation and he was now carefully and silently considering Merikh.

Elara stood there in silent shame. How horrible was it to have your partner speak of you in that way in front of the High Lord and inner circle. How was she ever meant to be taken seriously?

Feyre, Elara do you believe we're done here? Rhysand asked mind to mind. Elara indicated it was and Feyre agreed.

"We will continue to monitor the situation and take the next steps we've decided on."

With Rhysand's dismissal, everyone stood from the table, some hanging around to talk, others laughing about their days; the serious events from the meeting almost entirely forgotten.

Elara walked down the hallway to pop into her office, while she didn't work out of it often, there was some paperwork and letters she wanted to retrieve. As she opened the door, she heard footsteps behind her and immediately knew it was Merikh. Before she could decide on what to do he had a grip on her forearm and was in her face.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Elara opened her mouth to respond and he shoved her back further into the office.

"You made me look like a fool out there. You've turned this city to shit and now you want to come in looking like the hero and step over me to go out to Illyria."

Elara stayed silent. It was better than trying to reason with him when he was in this state.

In the back of her mind, she clocked the softest sound of a heal turn around the corner. Unsure if Merikh heard it or not, she tried to back out of his grasp, worried someone would see what was going on. He held on tighter and opened his mouth to berate her again - she heard another soft step in their direction, this time Merikh heard it, but before he could fully react, Azriel was standing in the doorway.

Elara had never felt shame quite like what she was feeling in this moment. She had never wished to disappear more, had never wanted to be invisible and cease to exist quite as much as she did right now. Azriel could be quieter than silence itself, Elara knew that as well as anyone else. Had he made the noise intentionally to alert them of his presence? Had he misjudged the situation, wanted to avoid catching them in a compromising situation?

Azriel stood for a moment, considering the two of them.

"Merikh, you're needed in the foyer, Rhsyand needs to speak with you."

Merikh, had tried to disguise his hand placements as a romantic gesture, removed his arms from her shoulder and nodded once before leaving the room.

And there stood you and Azriel.

Heart racing and blood pumping, anxiety spiked so high she was starting to shake.

Calm and composed, Azriel stood like a stone in the doorway. It seemed he was rendered speechless.

[dwln-22]

Since everyone else is doing an art summary...very nice, you can slowly see snake man turning more and more creature like! I likely did draw stuff during March and April but it's just all unlabelled so idk when I drew them.

Some short yapping,

I really like how something between the gap of March and April changed how I drew Snake man's head lol

I can't tell you why i draw him like this but it's just very fun. And that's exclusively why I draw megaman, to have fun! Though in reality, I did draw a bunch of stuff that month, it just wasn't megaman related

Is it surprising to hear i have OCs and stuff? When I draw megaman stuff i purposely draw without caring about any anatomy or proportions, because it's supposed to be fun and relaxing. Like, i actually do draw noses rather than just add a little dot to imply one usually lol

Also, here's a full version of the January art

I remember one of the reasons I liked Megaman was because of all the little quirks the robot masters have, so I wanted to make a comic series to explore those funny facts about them....yeah im pretty sure i only made one or two pages.

Most likely because i was just showing them to one person lol

eventually i just forgot about it, but actually "The Robot Master Variety Show" is still a fun idea. There were gonna be a bunch of hosts, Tundra man being one of them and they'd each have their own activities. Like uh, "Nature themed robots with Wood man"

Maybe ill draw more someday, who knows. If you want to make your own version, feel free! Tag me too if you want :D

Maybe we can make a whole robot master variety show tag lol

[bts5sosempire]

helloo(๑> <๑), can I ask app/website do you use to edit your fanfics, if it's okay with you? (I'm starting to write fanfics of my own and I couldn't find any app/website)

There are a lot, since I'm only using mobile version of the app(s) since it's more convenient for me to write on the get-go without bringing or opening my laptop all the time.

PureWriter (used to)

JotterPad (what I am currently using)

Grammarly Keyboard (what I am also currently using too)

Google Docs (used to)

Well, to start on PureWriter, I give it prolly a 7.5/10, I like the format and all, but the catalogs are a pain in the ass. Plus, you can't collapse a thread of your separate work, too, if you're writing for different stories. I hate trying to rearrange them in order so I kind of give up on that. It has a word reader to keep track of your word count and letters too. There are also constant updates on the app, so there are always new features being added, so I'm also not trying to keep up with that. I have the copy and paste thingy, as it double spaces my work and won't italicize or bold them correctly when needed.

For JotterPad, I give it an 8.5/10; it had its moment when I fought with it in the past. But there is an option for you to use the basic format, but you could also buy the add-ons if you wish. I may be biased, but I find it more convenient as you can link your account from Tumblr to JotterPad when transferring over whatever you're writing without the "copy and paste" type. Like PureWriter, it also had a word and character counter, so you can track how much you've written. It also gives you a statistics progress graph (like PureWriter, but in a different font, I guess). You can create folders (within another folder, again and again), which is a lifesaver, as I can separate my works into categories -> it almost works like a thread. I don't trust Tumblr enough to save in draft; the many times Tumblr ate my posts when I spend so many hours/days are agonizing.

Grammarly keyboard is a great way to use whatever app you use to write. Still, the hideous word recommendations are a thorn in the side at times when you're using an unfamiliar terminology or another synonymous that not the general audience knows. Like you fool, I'm trying to educate others and expand their vocabulary; let me do my sh*t. I say a solid 8/10, if for not the lagging it sometimes had. The app also had a desktop site, which I will not be talking about since I rarely use it. But if you do have your own words or terms, make sure to add them, or else this keyboard will auto-correct them for you.

Google docs, I'm sure I don't need to explain that here. No score.

But these are just my opinions, tho; you could try and see if they're to your liking or not; I'm sure there would be others who are willing to help you if they write a comment under the post or interact with you. Suppose I'm missing something or forgot to add.

Words of advice: block any porn bots on sight too, they could be liking and reblogging your stuff with a pfp of a hawt woman. So no hesitation. Also blank blogs.

Taggings: make sure to tag many things related to your content too. Thus, this will lead your content to be more exposed to others who like the stuff you put out that is related to their interest. You can check the "the tyrant" series I'm working on atm to see how the tagging(s) goes.

Taggings (tw): the "tw" stands for trigger warning, so if you happened to write any sensitive content that could potentially be in your series/ work, make sure to add them in your tagging if possible or add them at the very beginning of your list of content. Ex: tw frogs, tw cooties, or tw pink guy. If you don't put it, some people might stumble upon your work and unleash hell or politely tell you to edit and add tw to your work.