#they all know at least one of them is going to die.

[always---wrong]

One of my favorite scenes from season 1

Gi-hun! Do you know why your life is so pathetic? Because you ask the dumbest questions even in this situation. Constantly minding other people's business with that pea brain of yours, not knowing your ass from your elbow.

[swytdoll]

(19)virgin!choso has the hots for his older neighbor(35):(

perverted. that’s how he felt as he watched you wash your car, in shorts so tiny they were practically underwear and a white tank top that was so soaked it was see through. the way the fabric clung to your breasts made his mouth water. he had been staring for at least 30 minutes and had gotten to see them from all angles. it was torture, sweet torture. he wanted to take you right then and there in the grass and hear his name on your lips over and over.

you were old enough to be his mom. in fact, he had had you as a teacher back when he was in high school and that made him feel guilty for looking at you like this. but he just couldn't stop. he couldn’t stop himself from fantasizing about being with an older woman, one that knew what she was doing and knew how to use him. you would make him feel like your toy and he wanted that.

you looked up and caught his eyes. he blushed bright red and quickly turned away. maybe if he had kept looking he would have noticed the smirk on your lips.

you were a teacher in more ways than one. you could teach him how to be a good boy and give you the pleasure you deserved. he wanted to sink into the ground when you began to approach him. you were smiling sweetly, but your eyes said something different.

you leaned against the fence separating your property and his, propping up one of your arms on it. you gave him a soft grin and he wanted to die. you’re so pretty to him. glowing eyes framed with thick wispy lashes, pretty plump lips. he can't look away, mesmerized, he watches the way your lips part and the tip of your tongue darts out to wet them. the sight makes his blood run hot and his shorts grow tighter.

"hello mister kamo," you hummed, "where are your parents?"

"i-i'm sorry i-" had he been caught? were you gonna tell on him?

"what's the matter? are you nervous?" you cooed, "i just wanted to say hi to your mom, see if she needed anything for the barbecue later. is she around?"

"she's- um- out. getting groceries," he replied quietly, not daring to meet your eyes.

"oh? and what about your father?"

"he's...working late," choso said. he was sweating and the bulge in his shorts was now painfully obvious. he wanted to die, to disappear from embarrassment. you smiled and let out a giggle.

"are you okay mister kamo? you seem awfully nervous." you’re batting those lashes and he swears he could melt, he clears his throat. "yeah! yeah, i'm fine, totally fine!" he blurted out, "i'll- uh- tell them you said hi."

"okay," you quipped sweetly and began to walk back to your house, "if you need anything, just let me know, okay?"

he nodded, "okay."

his head was spinning and he couldn't think straight. he didn't want to be alone, didn't want to go inside, didn't want to leave and miss seeing you again. he could still smell the strawberry of your shampoo from where he was. it was intoxicating.

"choso," you called out and he snapped out of his daze.

"yes, miss?"

"can you come help me? i dropped my hose and it's really hard to pick up."

"o-okay."

you lead him around the side of your house and he saw the hose was indeed on the ground, the water running. his hands were shaking, but he bent down and picked it up anyway. the moment he stood, you grabbed his hand and placed it right on your chest. he squeaked and tried to pull away, but you held him tight.

"you can touch me," you hummed, "i don't mind. is that why you were watching me? do you like older women?"

"i- uh- well- you- you're-"

"use your words, choso," you chastised him and moved his hand lower, making him rub his fingers over your nipple, "good boys speak when spoken to. did i ever teach you that?"

"y-yes," he whined and his hips bucked into the air. you gave him a wicked smile and pushed him to the ground. he landed on his back, legs sprawled out. his cock was standing up, pressing against his shorts and there was a dark stain where his tip was.

"such a cute little thing," you giggled and knelt down in front of him. you grabbed his legs and pulled them apart before getting between them. he squirmed and you grabbed his hands, pinning them to the ground.

"please," he whimpered.

"please what? be a good boy and tell me what you want," you cooed, pressing his hands into the ground.

"i- um- please...touch me," he whispered.

"like this?" you hummed and reached down to rub his clothed erection. he bucked his hips into your hand and moaned.

"yes, please, miss," he gasped.

"good boy," you purred and kissed him, he was putty. "so good for me."

your hands moved to his hips and he lifted them so you could pull his shorts down. his cock was already leaking and twitching.

"you poor thing, did you get this hard just from looking at me?"

"y-yes, miss," he moaned, "i couldn't stop thinking about you, how pretty you were and how much i wanted you."

"oh, you're such a good boy, telling me exactly what you want," you cooed and gripped his cock, stroking it slowly, "i should give you a reward, hm?"

"please, please, please," he whined, his hips twitching up.

"okay," you replied and leaned forward. you pressed a soft kiss to his tip, smearing the pre-cum on your lips before wrapping them around him. his back arched and he let out a loud moan. he couldn’t believe this, anyone could see him and you. his parents could walk past the fence and catch you sucking off their son. but that was part of the fun. it was forbidden and he loved that.

the sounds of your gurgled chokes as you slurp his cock are like a siren's song to him, the way you so dutifully suckle him to the base and take his entire length in your mouth without a trace of resistance. your jaw is slack as he slides between your lips, his hand gently cradling the back of your head, urging you forward until your nose is pressed into his belly. he's so big that even though your eyes are rolled back, your vision is obscured by the sheer size of his erection. your throat feels like a fleshy sheath for him, your breath forced out in tiny, rapid huffs through your nostrils, and your tongue is pinned.

and you're not just sucking his cock, either. you're swallowing. and every time your esophagus clenches down around the head of his dick, it sends him hurtling closer and closer towards an orgasm that he's determined to wring out of you first. he can feel you starting to struggle for air, but the way you're still obediently sucking his cock even while your lungs burn from a lack of oxygen.

“god," he rumbles, his voice like the sound of boulders shifting together. his grip on the back of your head tightens, and he grinds against your face, your nose and lips mashed up against his skin.

your stomach growls and churns in a desperate plea for nourishment, but the way he fills your throat is a completely different hunger. you can taste his pre-cum, his magic thick and warm and tingling on your tongue, and you suck and swallow with more enthusiasm. even though you're struggling to breathe, the idea of drinking his cum makes you feel like a starving woman given the key to a buffet.

"j-just like that," he praises you, his words coming out in a hiss as you clench down on him, your throat tightening in a futile attempt to keep his cock from pushing so deep into your airway. he whines when you withdraw, a string of saliva connecting you two.

"you taste so good, choso," you murmured, "have you had many girls do this to you?"

"n-no, miss, never," he groaned, "only you."

"and do you want only me to do this to you? do you want me to be the only one that knows how good you taste and how cute you sound?"

"yes! yes, miss! i want it to be only you, please," he babbled. you smirked and kissed his hip.

"well then, i better take good care of my boy, huh?"

"please, please," he whined, pushing his hips toward you.

"okay, i'll make you feel really good, sweetie."

you took his cock back into your mouth, licking at the tip and stroking the rest. his head was spinning and he could hardly breathe. you felt too good, looked too good, sounded too good. your soft lips wrapped around him, sucking and licking, teasing and pleasing. it was too much and yet not enough. his body was on fire, burning and aching.

his knees buckle as your warm hand palms his balls and your tongue traces the veins of his cock. he lets out a whine and grips your hair. you pull off his dick, letting it fall against his stomach. you press a few soft kisses to his tip, watching as his cock twitches.

"miss," he whimpered, "it hurts, please."

"what does, sweetheart?" you asked.

"please, let me cum, miss," he begged.

"already? did i make you that horny?"

"please, miss," he whined and bucked his hips.

"alright," you hummed, taking him back into your mouth.

"thank you," he breathed.

you bobbed your head, taking him as deep as you could. his fingers tightened in your hair and he bucked his hips. your nose pressed against his pelvis and your throat clenched around him.

"i'm close," he moaned, "i can't, fuck, it's so good."

a few more thrusts, and his movements become erratic. you're dizzy from oxygen deprivation, the edges of your vision growing dark, when suddenly his cock twitches inside you, and his hot, sticky cum fills your stomach. there's so much of it that you're actually able to feel yourself swell a little with the volume of his release, and the sensation makes you whimper and whine.

"you did so well," you cooed, crawling up and laying next to him, "was that your first time?"

"yeah. . . s-sorry i finished so quick." he mumbled, cheeks tinted brightly.

"you did so good," you repeated, pressing a kiss to his temple, he felt like he was going to pass out.

“i’ll see you tonight at the barbecue, yeah?”

he nods, fuck, you’re gonna be the death of him.

*peeps around corner* dare i say part 2?

[flippinpancakes64]

How would the cullens (separately) react to a really flirtatious reader. Like where reader makes flirtatious jokes and comments about them all the time and how they would react to the reader doing that in front of other people?

The Cullens with a flirty! Reader

Am I back in my Twilight phase? Who knows. Only time will tell.

Happy Valentines Day everyone!

Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy!

Edward:

He can hear them before you speak

And if he could blush, he would

He’s one of the more traditional people, probably the most stuck in his ways out of all of them

All that to say he goes crazy over an ankle showing

Any comments you make about him have him (mentally) blushing and telling you to stop

Now don’t get me wrong, he can dish it out too

But only in private

The moment he hears you formulating a flirty thought in your brain, his hand is covering your mouth

You rarely ever get the jump on him

He might let you speak your mind in private

But you can already forget about saying anything with others around

Alice:

She would beat you to it every single time

She’s the flirty type

Y’all match each other’s freaks

You two have had compliment wars where you guys just go back and forth flirting

She loves it though

Every compliment, every innuendo, makes her fall deeper in love with you

And if you go out of your way to flirt with her in public, she goes feral

She loves being loved and you are more than happy to do that for her

Also you can’t embarrass her

You’re talking about how sexy she looks in that dress in front of a group of classmates?

She doesn’t care

She’ll retort back about how she can’t wait to get you back home later

When they go low I go lower type beat

Jasper:

Bro is a Casanova

Absolute sweet talker

But only in private

The moment you try to flirt with him outside of the confines of your or his rooms, he’s out of his element

Again, if vampires could blush, his face would be bright red

He always gets mildly annoyed when you say insinuating stuff in public

Not actually annoyed but more of like a

“Come on, really? Now? Here?”

The truth is that he loves the attention

Just maybe not outside of the bedroom

Rosalie:

She can def take it and dish it out

If you two are together, she is your ride or die

And she wants everyone to know

She’s not shy about flirting with you in public

And she never says no to you flirting with her

She welcomes it, actually

She loves the idea of fully being someone’s

Of her partner not being afraid to show her off and publicly admit how much they love her

Some would call it vanity

Or ego

But she calls it love

Emmett:

Oh sweet Emmett

He loves it

No ifs ands or buts

He feels like he’s on cloud nine when you flirt with him

And trust me, whatever you’ve got to say, he has much worse

I think he has a dirty mind

Definitely similar to Alice in the if you go low I go lower department

You’re out with friends and you make a flirty comment?

He’s going to go on a whole rant about how much he loves *insert specific body part of yours*

So yeah he basically has no shame

Say what you want

Just be prepared to be outdone

Esme:

I feel like she’s similar to Edward in this department

She loves the flirty compliments in private

But she gets all flustered in public

Cause wdym you’re at the store with her and now you’re talking about melons??

She’s gonna leave you behind to find your own way back

She gets embarrassed in private too

But it’s not as bad as in public

At least in private yall are left to yourselves

(Save for Edward unwillingly eavesdropping)

Definitely the type to smack you playfully

“Babe are you from tennessee? Cause I’m tryin-to-see them titti-“

*Smack* “Not another word.”

Carlisle:

He thinks it’s funny

He doesn’t really take it too seriously

You like his man boobs?

That’s nice sweetie

Very pacifistic about it

Doesn’t care if you’re in public or private

He loves you and your antics either way

The only time I could really see him caring would be if you came to visit him at work

As long as he’s wearing his coat, he needs to be professional

So that’s where he draws the line

Vampire! Bella:

I get mixed feelings about her

I can’t decide if she would love it or absolutely hate it

On the one hand, she would definitely love the silly jokes and all the attention

She has lower self esteem, and being able to know for sure that your partner finds you desirable is a great thing

On the other hand

Whenever you flirt with her in public she feels like she’s gonna die

She knows it doesn’t really matter

She’s a Cullen now

But she’ll be damned if that little anxious voice in the back of her head isn’t still there

[bokutoko]

2/14

character: atsumu miya (timeskip!atsumu)

wc: 1.4k

cw: valentine’s day (barf), alcohol, cussing, kinda sorta uni!au (uni!reader x msby!atsumu), slight feelings of inadequacy (reader), they kith💋, atsumu thinks the L-word

pt. 2(ish?) to 7/11

Valentine's Day... also known as your least favorite day of the year (besides your birthday, but that’s a whole different story). The holiday made popular by monetizing the idea of setting aside only one day out of the year to show how much you love your partner, with all the godforsaken life-sized teddy bears and dozens of balloons, and all the mediocre chocolate and overpriced flowers. A cock of shit was what it was—someone should not be loved just one day out of the year. 

Of course, its only significance to you was being a milestone to remind yourself how painfully single you were.

But you weren't bitter. Not at all. Not. One. Bit.

The kicker, though? It almost felt like you didn't even want anybody. The mere idea of dating someone—a person you probably didn’t even know at the time and probably (not so) secretly a piece of shit—made you so nauseous that swearing relationships off altogether seemed more tempting as the days passed...

But alas, the small, hopeless romantic peeking through the rose-tinted lenses of your heart unfortunately held out for something beautiful one day... Maybe not for a prince, but a knight in shining armor. Maybe not a man to sweep you off your feet, but instead one willing to help you pick up the pieces when it felt like everything was falling apart at your feet. 

"Maybe I'll just die an old spinster.”

"C'mon, it can't be that bad," Atsumu's Kansai dialect filtered through your headphones as you walked across campus to your morning class. He’d called, asking if you had any fun plans for the night, fully knowing you didn’t.

“There’s carnations and balloons all over campus. It looks like one of those my little ponies took a dump all over the place."

"But ‘m sure them carnations are pretty. Maybe you'll get one from a guy or somethin’."

"I think I'd rather die," you gagged.

A laugh filled your ears, and everything felt okay–what a nice sound to hear. But after feeling your heart do the thing, you quickly shook it off.

It was strange how for years now, it sometimes made you feel all weirdly warm and tingly when Atsumu laughed with you (even sometimes when he laughed at you).

It was best to not even entertain that notion.

"Well, gotta go, 'm at class," you sighed loudly for dramatic effect, "Maybe I'll go bitch to 'Samu later about my woes and personal vendettas. y���know, since you hate me."

Atsumu found himself smiling at your childish whining. "You mean ‘cause I'll be at practice?"

"Same thing."

“Fuck you too,” he grumbled with a scoff, not an ounce of actual annoyance in his voice, “Bye, nerd.”

A small smile made its way onto your face at his jabs. That was how it always was with Atsumu, ever since you two were in high school together. The both of you always shat on each other, knowing there was never any heat in your malicious words. It was nice, being able to feel safe with someone, to feel comfortable enough to be yourself and unapologetically bully your best friend.

As you prepped for lecture, your mind wandered, constantly circling back to your partner in crime. With every moment that passed, you quickly came to realize that Atsumu always only judged you a little bit with your (sometimes questionable) decisions, keeping it real with you while ultimately supporting you and being one of your biggest cheerleaders. Because all he wanted was to see you succeed. All he wanted was to see you happy.

You felt your face heat up just from thinking about him. 

For fuck’s sake—

While it was nice to attempt to delude yourself into thinking something could ever happen, you were easily able to convince yourself that this strange… crush was most likely unrequited.

This was Atsumu. Your Atsumu. He deserved the world.

And yet, you were just… you.

Time seemed to pass as slow as humanly possible: all your classes droning on, your exam sucking the life out of you, your professors assigning loads of busywork for the weekend ahead. The walk back to your cramped, overpriced shithole apartment was bustling with people: couples going on dinner dates, partners buying last minute gifts, and the occasional groups of galentines. Thankfully, your roommates all had plans with loved ones or already left for the weekend, so you had the entire place to yourself to sulk!

Turning the key and walking inside, you were slapped in the face with color. The common room area was decorated with a couple red heart balloons and… a pink “happy birthday” balloon floating around?

Your eyes honed in on Atsumu standing in the middle of the living room, holding another pink happy birthday balloon.

“Happy Valentine’s Day. Y’have no idea how hard it is to find last minute stuff,” Atsumu sighed with a sheepish grin, "and I know it ain’t your birthday, but it was pink—a-and the color kinda matches, so…”

‘What was he talking about?’ he thought to himself, ‘oh god, please shut up.’

And the epiphany came crashing down upon you that maybe you never actually hated Valentine’s Day, you just wanted someone to love you every day, not just for one day of the year. You looked over to the chocolates on the counter and the flowers perched in a vase next to them—it was your favorite everything. On display before you was your favorite dessert, your favorite flowers, your favorite person—

“‘Tsumu…” you struggled to find the right words, “What is all this?”

He just shrugged, hiding the flush to his cheeks by scratching the back of his neck. “Ya’ve been all down in the dumps that you’re single ‘n shit, so i got some chocolates, some box wine, and ‘Samu’s hulu logged in so we can rot on the couch and watch anything ya want tonight.” 

Atsumu watched you break out in the biggest smile, almost splitting your face in two, and god, he knew he loved you.

You swiped a box of chocolates off the counter. “You know me too well.”

He returned your smile with one of his own, so handsomely crooked. “I know.”

As the hours passed, empty boxes of chocolates were scattered on the table, along with half-drank glasses from a second round of wine. The two of you devolved into sharing a blanket that was definitely too small for the both of you, resulting in you two occasionally tugging on it and grumbling, “gimme.”

“Woulda thought you’d have plans tonight,” you commented as an ad played on the TV, your voice attempting to sound as casual as possible.

He hummed, feigning nonchalance as well. “I do. I’m here, ain’t I?”

You actively couldn’t stop the snort that escaped you. “Be serious, ‘Tsumu.”

“What, can I not make my own kind of plans?” he huffed in reply.

“I meant a date, ‘Tsumu. Y’know, with a girl ya like.”

He hesitated, feeling slightly deflated by her response. “Yeah…?” His voice was uncharacteristically… soft. It may had just been the alcohol talking, but Atsumu wondered if the taste of your lips, now stained a soft pink, was any better than the vino you two shared.

The air in the room suddenly felt way too warm, and you could feel your face flush as you just silently stared at him, like you were some brainless neanderthal. You swallowed, only just now realizing how close the two of you were—no longer tugging on the blanket but practically cuddling. You felt the warmth of his thigh against your own, and you swore you could die right there on the spot, melting right into a puddle of goo. 

Clearing your throat, you mumbled, “Yeah.”

His eyes lazily bounced back and forth between yours, searching for something, and he let out a sigh. “Yer the smartest person I’ve ever known, but God, you can be so damn stupid sometimes.”

Before you had the chance to fire an insult back, you felt a pair of lips on yours, the movements gentle yet nervous. It was instinctual, bordering embarrassing, how fast you melted into the kiss. His tongue tasted of white chocolate truffles and red wine, the heady mixture causing you to let out the softest sigh in his mouth. Atsumu's hands gently cupped your jaw, his thumbs gently running along your cheekbones until his brain finally caught up to his actions.

He pulled away and watched you almost chase his lips, your eyes still fluttering with your skin bathed in the soft lamplight of the room. He quietly whispered, “Sorry, I–”

“Don’t you dare apologize, you dumbass. Just kiss me again.”

And you didn’t have to tell him twice. 

a/n: happy valentine’s day to all the happy couples and all the single people out there—single or not, here’s some atsumu to feed the delulu <33

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please do not copy, alter, or repost my work. ©bokutoko 2025.

[havocandcchaos]

She knew Fiyero wouldn't hurt her, not really. They might have never been in love, but they still love each other, and yeah, they both love Elphaba more, but they BOTH love her. and they both know that. But that doesn't ease the pain of having one of the people you love most in the world point a loaded gun at your chest because, to him, to them, you are a threat. and then less than 24 hours later, you have watched both of them die and god if only Fiyero had pulled the trigger then at least she would've been with them. but no, she spends the whole show being terrified of dying, running from it with all she has, and now she is finally ready to die, but the two people she loves most won't let her, and they go without her, and she has to live the rest of her life knowing that and believing it's her fault and god I bet she spends a lot of time wishing Fiyero pulled the trigger.

Do you think Glinda thinks about how Fiyero pointed a loaded gun at her and explicitly stated that he's willing to kill her

(When she thinks about how Fiyero and Elphaba died shortly after, does she wish they just shot her instead)

[mmmichyyy]

inspired by this snippet from the las culturistas podcast to write this silly gallavich ficlet 🥪

it's two in the afternoon, and ian is bored out of his skull.

the office temp job was supposed to be, well, temporary. an easy way to earn some cash, contribute to the squirrel fund, save a couple bucks for a rainy day.

but three months later he's still the office bitch - ordering office supplies, organizing files, killing a couple trees a day because documents can't be printed double-sided for some reason, getting everyone's coffee order, messing up everyone's coffee order (god forbid brenda drinks a latte with foam once in a while) - while spending every waking minute fighting the urge to blow his brains out.

ian checks his watch. two hours, fifty-five minutes, thirty-six seconds until he clocks out. thank god it's fucking friday, at least.

the great thing about being a lowly temp worker is the fact that no one pays him any attention. his cubicle is in a dusty corner with a desk and a worn out swivel chair that endless other temps have sat their ass on before him. as long as he finished his tasks for the day and people are sufficiently caffeinated, he can be on his phone and no one can say shit.

so obviously, he's swiping grindr on company time, because what the hell else is he going to do?

mickey. 23. dick me down hard or fuck off.

hm. the guy only has two pictures - one mirror selfie, blurry, though his slicked-back dark hair and blue eyes standout on milky skin. damn. already ian is into him.

but then. the other mirror pic, taken of his backside, is what makes ian believe in some kind of higher power up in the sky. because holy shit this guy might just have the nicest ass he's ever seen?? round, plump, partially covered in soft grey briefs, and ready to be devoured. hello?? yes??

ian: free tonight? i can dick you down good and hard :)

mickey: how long

ian: however long you want baby

mickey: i meant your dick dumbass

ian: oh

[attached image: my_dick_morning_wood_69.png]

mickey: meet me in 30 mins

ian blinks. thirty minutes? he glances at the time. 2:18pm. what kind of guy wants to meet for a hook-up in broad daylight? is he a sociopath? or a murderer who likes to see their victim clearly as he stabs them multiple times?

whatever. for a quality ass like that, it's a risk he'll have to take.

as usual, no one in the office even glances his way as he hastily grabs his backpack and bolts towards the elevator.

ian: address?

*

"i think you broke me," ian pants, flopping on his back, boneless and completely satiated. "oh my god. how... where did you even learn how to do that?"

mickey shrugs and casually lights a cigarette, as if he didn't just rock ian's entire world. twice. and again. "lots of practice."

"i didn't even know someone could bend that way," ian says in awe, completely fascinated by the magical gremlin with the nimble fingers. "and the thing with your tongue?? are you a trained acrobat or something?"

mickey blows out a line of smoke and offers up the cigarette between his fingers, to which ian eagerly accepts.

"i know what i like, and i'm good at it." mickey lightly pats ian on the cheek. ian responds by melting into a pile of goo. "you weren't so bad yourself, stud."

oh. oh no. ian is done for.

before he can say anything or unhinge his jaw wide open for round three? four? his stomach gurgles out a loud groan. very unsexy, quite possibly the least attractive sound, ever. ian blushes, hoping mickey didn't hear it. but then–

"you wanna get a sandwich?"

ian twists his neck to the side so fast, he nearly gets whiplash.

"what?!"

mickey snatches the nearly finished filter from ian's hand and stubs it out on the side table ashtray. jumps up from the bed and tosses over ian's shirt from the floor. "c'mon, get your ginger ass up. there's a deli down on the corner that makes a mean spicy meatball sub and the parm is to fuckin' die for. been thinking 'bout it all day."

"you wanted to have sex in the afternoon and now you want a sandwich? with me?" ian has had his fair share of hookups, but never has he met someone so sexually deviant yet simultaneously endearing like mickey. is he dreaming right now? "seriously, who are you??"

mickey scoffs. "you think i'm going to take it up the ass after eating a meatball sub? you're a fuckin' idiot. so you wanna go stuff yourself with tomato sauce or not?"

yeah. ian is in love.

[honeysorwell]

all of it (all of you) 

Pairing: Melissa Schemmenti x hairdresser!fem Reader

Synopsis of the story + Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10

Link on AO3

Chapter 2

Tag list: @janeyseymour @italianaidiota @chloeelou02x (and if you want to be tagged too just let me know.)

Warning: there is a line for people who want to kiss Mel's burn hand, and I'm the first in it.

Words: 5,7k

The comments and compliments I received for this work caught me completely unprepared. Guys, thank you all very much for embracing my work with such affection.

Enjoy!

Fifteen people in the last twenty days.

Fifteen people have complimented Melissa's hair in the last twenty days.

In theory, everything was done the same as usual, but by someone else's hands. However, the universe decided to make the redhead feel even more guilty about everything that happened on her last visit to the salon.

First, it was Barb. The older woman touched Melissa's red hair tenderly in the teacher's breakroom, without any apprehension or concern about the second-grade teacher's reaction, and complimented the way it was colored, saying it looked brighter than before.

But it quickly escalated into something more significant.

Ava asked if she did anything differently, and the principal did so while telling a flattering joke asking where her Roger Rabbit was, which even made Barbara laugh softly. Next, it was Janine and Jacob who also complimented her hair, with a shy Gregory by their side who just nodded.

Then more and more parents of students joined the complementary wave of affection towards her. And then Melissa was hearing compliments from Abbott’s new stocker and vending machine operator, a handsome man with hair that was too long for her taste named Julian who now shares the heavy workload of the truck with Gary (causing the bald man with the mustache to blush before he softly agrees with his new co-worker).

Then there are a few random teenagers, grocery store clerks, who stop her to tell her she looks hot, quickly finishing the sentence with a “respectfully” before Melissa even has time to respond to them.

Normally Melissa would love all of this attention, and in another scenario, the compliments would have encouraged her to go out after work on some random Friday night looking for someone brave enough to try something more than a compliment. But this time the Italian woman felt her heart clench and her mind race a thousand miles an hour as she thought about the hairdresser who did that job every time someone complimented her.

So she actively swallows her pride and visits the Riverfront Roots Salon once again. Melissa would truly rather die than apologize or admit she was wrong. She memorized this from her family and she carries this learning throughout her life, but even someone like the redhead needs to admit that nothing can be applied in life without at least one exception.

That's why Melissa makes this visit to the salon on a Tuesday, after the school day is over since the darkness of the night could allow a little more privacy between her and Y/N.

As she parks her car in front of Riverfront Roots, the redhead convinces herself that it doesn't hurt to make sure that only the minimum number of people witness this display of vulnerability coming from a Schimmenti as she watches what seems to be the last customers of the night saying goodbye to the receptionist before leaving.

What will she say?

She has no idea.

But everything goes down the drain when the redhead's idea goes wrong. So when she returns home at night, unable to even talk to the hairdresser to replace the image of discomfort written on Y/N's face from her memory with an apology, Melissa decides to call her confidant and arrange to meet her the following weekend, using the next few days to gather courage and ask for advice from the one who never failed to give her the best of them whenever the teacher needed it.

“Oh, Melissa. How are you, dear? Don't get me wrong, cuz I figured I'd get your call, just not exactly as an invitation for coffee...”, Andrea's voice rings out as Melissa enters her favorite coffee shop, sounding happier than the last time the teacher saw her, and the redhead imagines that this is the result of the free time resting that the Italian woman must now have in abundance thanks to her retirement.

“What? Can't I invite my friend for coffee and ask her how her days are going without the sound of the hairdryer making her deaf?”, her voice sounds playful above all, which makes the answer she receives from Andrea come along with a laugh.

“Of course you can, silly girl!”

And so they talk for several hours, drinking coffee after coffee and hardly caring about how electric their bodies will be after ingesting so much caffeine while sharing pieces of their current lives. At first, it is strange to look at the woman in front of them and not see their own face next to that one, sharing a reflection in the mirror, but it is fine and the two women quickly get used to the new arrangement.

“Of course, you knew I would miss you,” Melissa says with a laugh, chewing gently on one of the best butter cookies she has ever eaten after taking another sip of her particularly hot coffee.

“Oh, I knew that. But, that’s not exactly what turned on the light bulb in my head,” the older woman says with an air of wisdom that only someone who has ever lived in the world enough to know too much can have, and after taking another sip of her coffee, she continued, “You see... Y/N called me a few weeks ago asking for permission to pass on the mix recipe I developed for you to another hairdresser... So, even though she didn't give me any details, I figured something had... happened.”

Melissa felt that the blood under the skin of her face was truly burning with shame.

The redhead thought about swallowing the coffee in her cup in one go, hoping it would burn her tongue with how hot the liquid was, and thus be able to escape from answering what Andrea clearly wanted to know.

She knew she was cornered and had been caught, with no intelligent way to escape. Shame and guilt mixed together, creating a bitter taste in the teacher's mouth even with the memory of the cookie so fresh on her tongue.

But, Melissa's usual response to these situations, loud and ready for a fight, doesn't happen here. Not with Andrea. Never with Andrea.

“What a big mouth... Jezz...”, is how the teacher responds, mumbling as she looks away from her friend in front of her.

“Something tells me yours is too.”

“I just... I was angry, okay?”, for the first time the redhead is honest even in the midst of murmurs, “And she’s different, and she kept talking so I... I freaked out and said what I shouldn’t have.”

Andrea remains silent, just observing the discomfort of the one in front of her with affection and understanding, and it’s this look that makes Melissa continue to speak.

“I know I crossed the line... But she did too!”, the words come out of the teacher’s mouth accusingly before she shares the whole story with Andrea, who smiles and shows surprise at every bit of her student’s encounter with Melissa shared with her, especially with the scissors.

“And what do you want to do now? I even know other hairdressers, but–”

“No! I just... I don't know exactly how I should apologize... Don't get me wrong, I don't want to apologize, but I really know I need to.”, honesty and vulnerability continue their journey between Melissa's mind and tongue as she speaks, “I stopped by her salon but they didn't even let me see her, they just gave me a paper with how many grams of each dye I need for my whole head and sent me away. But since you told me she was your pupil... Well...I thought that maybe...”

“Oh... I see.”, Andrea's voice has the most suggestive tone Melissa has heard in years, and thanks to the look the older woman gives her, full of knowledge, the redhead's cheeks blush.

“Please Andrea, it's not like that.”, the sentence escapes her lips just as her neck also begins to blush, with a speed that would be justified if Melissa were being tortured, trying to prove her innocence of a crime that the teacher definitely did not commit. But maybe she thought about it.

Or if she had enjoyed many generous sips of her coffee, even though she knew how hot it was.

“I didn’t say anything, dear. I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Andrea can sense Melissa’s embarrassment, so she diverts her attention to the bigger picture, even though her knowing smile never leaves her lips, “Look… You know you’re a good cook, and you’ve gotten your fair share of favors that way. Maybe it’s worth trying your luck.”

After that, the subject goes back to where it was before, and the teacher actually tries to focus on Andrea saying that she’ll be spending next summer in Europe, but Melissa’s mind starts working in a completely different way. She silently goes over (in her memory) the most beloved dishes from the cookbook she inherited from her grandmother while listening to Andrea talk about how it would be a pleasure to have Melissa over if she decides to run away from her family for the upcoming holidays. And when they pay the bill for the coffee, Melissa knows what to do.

“And Melissa… Cut off an inch when you get the chance, my dear. It's getting a little.. uneven.”, this is the end of Andrea's farewell to the redhead after a tight hug and a sweet kiss on the forehead, but the words are said in a maternal tone, of genuine care for the teacher that makes Melissa, even without thinking, respond to the older woman with just an affirmative nod and a loving smile.

And, as she doesn't want to think about what happened when someone else suggested the same thing, at least not now, Melissa goes home with only that feeling in her chest.

When the moon took over the sky that night, Melissa was lying under the covers of her bed, staring at the ceiling of her room and completely giving up on falling asleep, while her mind went over and over her conversation with Andrea. The older woman was right, as always.

She could cook something for Y/N.

Cooking has always been her passion since she was little, and that was one of the things that made the redhead and her grandmother even closer. The fact that Melissa was very good at it only helped her cause of being her grandmother's favorite.

Most of the time the redhead cooks as a thank you, rather than an apology, but the change is small. And so, the fact that the idea of ​​cooking to apologize has not left Melissa's mind honestly shocked her.

Most of her guys are just people from all over Philadelphia who work in different places and when they hear about how good her food is, they actively choose to seek her out, willingly offering services (sometimes illicit) that the redhead might be interested in in the long run in order to have the opportunity to taste her seasoning, thus forming an alliance.

It's impossible not to take advantage of this after a few years.

Finding out and memorizing what her most skillful guys' favorite dishes are. Doubling or even tripling the size of recipes that were previously made for only ten people, making her thanks become something shared with more and more potential “guys” (thus increasing the number of guys offering their services to her) so often that the redhead has forgotten how to cook for just two people in the last twenty years.

Cooking is a gift that, unlike her job as a teacher, the redhead didn't have to choose. It was flowing through her veins.

Melissa knows that this is one of the simplest ways to get what she wants. And maybe that's what made her block this possibility until now.

There was a voice inside her head, not the part inflated by her ego for always getting what she wants thanks to how good her food is and how everyone who knows about her talent wants to appreciate it, but the insecure and confused one that whispers in a soft voice that Melissa wants to manipulate Y/N.

And for the first time in a while, she’s not bragging about doing it. In fact, she doesn’t want to do it.

For some reason that Melissa still doesn’t know but keeps scratching her insides, she wants to earn Y/N’s apology, not demand it with her food.

And it doesn’t help that it’s been a long time since Melissa apologized to anyone.

Knowing that she won’t be able to sleep anytime soon and taking advantage of the fact that tomorrow will be Sunday, the second and third-grade teacher gets out of bed and goes to the kitchen, wondering what she should cook.

It’s already the middle of the night, and she has a lot of grading to do for her students’ tests tomorrow, but Melissa knows she won’t be able to concentrate if she doesn’t do that first.

Wrapped in a dark blue robe and hoping that Jacob won’t come to check why she is up so late at night, the teacher carefully opens the refrigerator and checks the ingredients she has and the ones she bought the last time she went to the farmer’s market.

Orange juice... Half a bottle of wine... Milk... Eggs... Fresh mascarpone?

When her eyes focus on the sweet cream-colored cheese, a train of thoughts runs through her head. Melissa knows less than little about her new hairdresser – which is her fault, really – but who doesn't like a sweet treat after a long day of work?

The redhead has dark chocolate in the pantry. Coffee is always a must in a teacher's house. And her cousin gave her a cocoa powder so rich and velvety last Christmas that it could melt in her fingers.

So tiramisu it is.

It was a simple yet sophisticated dessert, full of layers of flavors and textures that the redhead hoped would be enough to convey the care and effort she had put into the dessert. And that would certainly be worth more than a few words, right?

When Melissa goes back to bed, she knows that this is a good idea, and, bathed in this certainty, the redhead can finally see herself falling asleep as she climbs back to bed.

"Perfect," is the word Melissa whispers softly to herself, as she finally gets the thing that was preventing her from sleeping off her chest.

The next morning, the redhead took a quick shower and went downstairs, deciding to organize everything she would need to grade her little eagles' work on the dining room table before taking a deep breath and heading to the kitchen.

She hadn't made homemade Savoiardi in years, always using the ones from the Italian bakery that sold her favorite cannolis. But today was different. Today, cooking would make her put her feelings in order, perhaps even directing her mind to a light that would clear her ideas for what the teacher should say when giving the dessert to Y/N the next morning.

The redhead begins to separate the ingredients she will need to bake the cookies quickly, already deciding that it would be smart to have the necessary ingredients on the kitchen counter even before she finishes making her coffee. Anticipating the company she will have when she hears the sound of lazy footsteps coming from the stairs, Melissa fills one more cup than she would if she were alone with the dark liquid and begins to grab her frying pan to put it in the stove and prepare what she's going to eat.

"Good morning Mel-Mel!", Jacob sounds as he enters the kitchen, hoarse and sleepy, leaning softly against the kitchen counter and observing the ingredients that are displayed there.

"Morning Jacob. There's coffee ready.", Melissa answers softly, pointing to the coffee cup next to hers, still full and steaming, waiting for the younger teacher.

"Thank you.", the smile Jacob gives her is initially full of gratitude, but quickly turns to curiosity when he continues, "Oh... what are you cooking?"

The teacher isn't sure what exactly this question refers to, but considering how curiously he was looking at her ingredients just a minute ago, Melissa gives Jacob two simple answers.

"Eggs, and then baking."

"That's cool. Let me finish this, you already made me coffee.", Jacob says as he gently takes the spoon from the redhead's hand, then grabs four eggs from the fridge and takes her place in front of the stove.

After he moved in with Melissa and this new and sweet idea of ​​friendship was born between the two teachers, what had previously been just a few cooking lessons here and there turned into an intensive course. But the younger teacher loved every second of it. Jacob learned so much about everyday food living with the redhead and even managed to succeed at it, making moments like that more and more natural in the Italian woman's kitchen.

Taking advantage of the softness of her replacement in front of the stove, the redhead begins to gently check if everything she needs to bake is there until Jacob's voice sounds again.

"Did you know that astronauts can bake bread in some space stations?", the man says the words with childish excitement, but still with his eyes attentive to the eggs he is stirring gently on the stove, exactly as the redhead instructed him weeks ago, "Wouldn't it be nice to eat warm bread while you watch the earth from afar?"

"First, I'm not baking bread. But yes, it does sound good to them, kid.” Melissa’s response is simple and sweet, not irritated like she usually would be when she hears silly things like that at work.

They ate breakfast in comfortable silence. Melissa knew Jacob was going on a date that Sunday, so from the moment she woke up to the moment she heard Jacob singing in the upstairs shower before he began to get properly dressed for the lunch he would share with Avi, the paramedic at the local Philadelphia fire station, everything was going according to the plan the teacher had until she started baking.

Melissa tried to focus on the methodical rhythm of her task. Crack the egg, pour the white into a jar, pour the yolks into the mixer bowl, and repeat. But her mind insisted on going back to what she had done a few weeks ago. The words she had said to Y/N were sharp and thoughtless, but what weighed on her like a stone in her stomach was the change in the hairdresser’s expression. "She may have already forgotten...", Melissa muttered to herself, trying to calm her mind. But she knew it wasn't true.

She knew Janine didn't mean to say that she was a bad teacher when Courtney was transferred to her class, not really. It was just the younger teacher's ego and naivety, both screaming and destroying Janine's judgment for having been actively chosen.

But Melissa also couldn't deny that her mouth turned bitter the moment she heard her colleague's words, even if they were whispered.

She would never say it out loud, not even to Barb, but that first night, after hearing that unexpected insult, the younger teacher's words remained too vivid in the redhead's mind when the lights in her room went out and she had to go to sleep.

Maybe I'm not a bad teacher. Maybe you are.

She really didn't deserve that.

The memory flashed through Melissa's brain so quickly that the teacher even lost her rhythm as she added more ingredients to her mixture, but she recovered enough to start beating the egg whites. However, the continuous noise of the mixer only made her remember how much she had thought about it, lying in her bed watching the sun rise through her window when she woke up before her alarm clock.

A bad teacher.

Sighing, Melissa thinks about how much it took for her to understand what was going on in the mind of the younger teacher back then, and then turns off the mixer and begins to mix its contents with the few that were missing.

As she spread the molds she would need on top of her table and, with the experience and speed of a chef, the redhead put the freshly mixed dough she had in her hands in a pastry bag and continued without even blinking as she remembered that little clash in Abbott.

When Janine got upset about being described as an inexperienced teacher in the teachers break room, the redhead hadn't even blink, and that was why she started teasing the younger woman.

Because, to the redhead, it was obvious that she was a more experienced teacher.

If Melissa, a teacher with over twenty years of experience, wasn't more experienced than a teacher with only three, then Melissa was doing something very wrong not only with her life but also with the lives of the children she taught. The fact that the two woman had different times to prepare and perfect themselves to where they were now, both in the same place (teaching Abbott Elementary as second-grade teachers at the same time), had nothing to do with Janine's qualities as a teacher.

Eventually, she managed to explain this to the younger teacher.

"Thank God.", was the muttered thought that Melissa let slip between her lips as she put her Savoiardi in the oven after sprinkling them with her mixture of sugar and cornstarch, automatically starting the timer.

Melissa forgave Janine because she knew she didn't mean it with all her heart. The younger teacher was foolish but not cruel. She couldn't be cruel even if she tried.

Melissa knew. But Melissa knew this because she knew Janine.

The problem was that... Y/N didn't know Melissa.

So what the hell was she going to do if the hairdresser didn't accept her apology?

And so it was over. Her mind was just taking away the possibility of a peaceful morning for Melissa. Because not even her grandmother's collection of favorite Italian songs would be fair competition for what was starting to form in the redhead's mind.

The redhead isn't someone who has a problem with someone she barely knows not liking her. Melissa sometimes even triumphs over this idea of ​​being disliked by people close to her, so someone she doesn't know should simply mean nothing.

When Uncle Archie says she's his least favorite in the family, it doesn't mean anything. It's an honor, really, and the words of her mother's brother would never keep her awake at night. And he is family.

Now among people she knows, Schimmenti loves the idea of ​​being seen as unreachable, distant and unsociable. But there is something about that hairdresser...

With a huff, Melissa simply grabbed a cloth within her reach and began to clean the counter of her sink, ignoring the insistent sound of the timer that finally went off, still lost in all these thoughts.

Maybe it's because the hairdresser really didn't deserve those words... Maybe it's because the poor woman was just doing her job... Maybe it's because the hairdresser is connected to Andrea... Or maybe...

When the smell of sugar began to intensify, Melissa finally realized that the time had passed. With a start, the redhead opened the oven, letting out a wave of heat so intense that it made her eyes water. The teacher hurriedly pulled one of the baking sheets out of the oven, her bare fingers touching the hot metal before she realized her mistake.

"FUCK!" she groaned loudly, backing away quickly, knocking the tray onto the counter. One of the cookies fell to the floor with a dry, crunchy sound, while her instinct forced her to hold her hand against her chest, her eyes watering.

The burning heat pinked up her palm like an immediate punishment, and defeated Melissa finally turned on the kitchen faucet, placing her red hand there.

"MELISSA??" Jacob's shrill voice sounded faster than she imagined. And more desperate too.

For a moment, the older teacher stood there, staring at the cookie on the floor and feeling the buzzing in her throbbing skin as she felt the flow of water. The pain was real, but it served only as a reflection of something greater: guilt.

“I’M FINE, JACOB!” the redhead yells back at her roommate, even though she knows that from the sounds she hears upstairs, he must be desperately putting on the first piece of clothing he can find and then coming to check on her.

By the time he appears in the kitchen, as out of breath as Janine had been running around in her early years as a teacher, the pain has already subsided. But the younger teacher doesn’t care about that, or the fact that Melissa honestly tells him that she used to get burned all the time when she was younger and that heat tolerance is in every Italian woman’s blood, as he gently rubs some burn ointment from his personal first aid kit onto her burned fingertips.

After repeating what she imagines to be a thousand times that she is fine and perfectly capable of being alone, Jacob finally leaves her alone and goes on his date, giving Melissa the space she needs to sit at the kitchen table. She doesn't want to sound insane, but the savoiardi, perfectly shaped but with some slightly over-brown, seemed to judge her silently.

With a fork and using her non-dominant hand, Melissa tried to transfer all the cookies she baked to a covered container as soon as they cooled and went to her living room.

Finishing the corrections of her students' tests with her non-dominant hand takes longer than she imagines, taking up most of her morning and afternoon. But at least she is back in the kitchen when Jacob returns from his meeting, with flushed cheeks, swollen lips, a sweet smile and lost eyes as he asks her if her fingers still hurt.

She softly denies it, with a smile on her face and thankful for Jacob's concern written in his eyes. He understands even the words she doesn't say, and she is also thankful for that as she grates some of the dark chocolate she will need to finish her recipe the next day and puts it in a covered container.

On Monday morning, Melissa gets up ready early.

If asked, she would say that she set her alarm to wake her an hour and a half earlier, but the reality is that her nerves did the job without the help of technology.

Calmly, Melissa took the mascarpone from her refrigerator and began to make the cream that would bring the entire recipe to life. She beats the egg whites with the egg yolk, and uses the mixer to first mix the sugar, then the mascarpone and finally the carefully beaten egg whites.

When everything was ready, the redhead took a deep breath and, next to the precious dish she had chosen, arranged on her counter the Savoiardi cookies made the day before, the grated chocolate, the mascarpone cream and began to assemble the dessert. She dipped the cookies in a little room temperature coffee, one by one, taking care to make sure they were just the right amount of wet so that she could arrange them on the bottom of that precious glass dish, creating an even base and trying to ignore how much she wished the hairdresser could see the care she put into it.

When Jacob finally came downstairs, she was already spreading the fourth layer of the mascarpone cream, smoothing it with a spatula to ensure that each part of the dessert was perfect. When she finished, the redhead noticed that it was exactly ten minutes before the time she and the younger teacher left the house every day, so the redhead took her time sprinkling cocoa powder on top delicately, as if she were drawing an invisible message to Y/N.

Forgive me. I'm sorry.

Melissa wasn't sure.

But what she knows for sure is that Jacob is practically melting with curiosity in his passenger seat as he holds the dessert in his lap.

The Italian woman wanted to rest the tray on her back seat, as she always does when she needs to take something important to school. But he asks so genuinely to carry it that Melissa doesn't have the heart to tell him to take the bus that day. Especially after his ointment worked wonders by almost completely healing the burn on her hand.

At least not inside the car, since she takes the tray from the younger teacher's hand and is the one responsible for putting it in the refrigerator in the teacher's break room.

"Oh. This is a...”, Janine's voice is uncertain as she inspects the tray that prevents her from storing her sandwich on the common refrigerator shelf, already stretching her fingers to get a better look at what it was.

“It's mine. Do you have a problem with it?”, Melissa says rudely just so that there are no additional questions, but, as usual, Janine doesn't get the hint.

“That's beautiful. But can I—”, Janine starts again only to be interrupted.

“It's not yours. So don't touch it.”

After that, a heavy silence takes over the break room for a few moments.

“She spent the whole day yesterday making it... and she even got burned and then she was putting it together this morning.”, the youngest man in the room mumbles to his friend, not as quietly as he imagines he did since everyone in the room hears Jacob's words even with the news on the television.

“Did she give you a piece?” Janine mumbles back to Jacob, now curious. He shakes his head at the younger woman, purposely leaving out the fact that Melissa left a fair amount of the cream she used for that tiramisu in a small bowl, next to some of the homemade cookies just for him this morning. And that’s why Jacob gets a slap on the arm from the redhead along with an irritated look as he passes her on his way to the coffee maker to refill the dark liquid in his cup. Finally, intrigued by the younger man’s groan of pain, Barbara looks at the refrigerator that Janine still has open, trying unsuccessfully to put her lunch inside, and sees the reason for everyone’s commotion. A big tiramisu. But she also sees something that no one else does.

Something that cannot be questioned is that, out of everyone there, Barbara knows Melissa like no one else and is able to figure her out without even trying. And, with a small look at the glass dish in question, she had already figured her friend out.

That was one of a set of five glass dishes that Barbara Howard had heard about and only seen from a distance. Before her third year of marriage, the redhead's ex-mother-in-law, who was battling lung cancer although she still refused to give up smoking, distributed her most precious possessions to her family. And among them was that set that had been desired by all the women in Joe's family for many years.

As expected, four of the dishes were divided among Mary Alice's four daughters, but, surprising the redhead in a way she never imagined possible, Melissa was given the last one of the set, much to the despair of Joe's older brother's wife. Melissa's ex-husband's mother told the teacher that her talent for cooking would give a better destination for the last piece, unlike the idiotic fight that the sisters would probably start over the unequal number of the set.

Even after the divorce, the heartwarming gift was never claimed by Joe.

So Barbara knew that the tiramisu in question, taking up a huge space in the refrigerator of the teachers' break room on the first floor of Abbott Elementary, was not like any other.

"Girlfriend?" Barbara says softly to get the redhead's attention, speaking again only when Melissa's green eyes are looking directly into her dark ones, "Don't get involved in anything dangerous, please."

"I won't..." Melissa's voice no longer has the bite it had when she spoke to the other teachers, "I swear! It's just... an apology."

"For Joe?", the first-grade teacher knows she might be pushing, but she can't help but ask.

"No!", it's almost a scream, the redhead's tone of voice sounds scared and indignant, but it calms the teacher next to her.

And that, for now, is enough.

At the end of the day, with the tiramisu neatly packed and in her passenger seat, Melissa got into her car and drove to the salon where Y/N worked. The teacher's heart was beating fast as she parked and walked to the entrance, holding the dessert tightly even though her hands were sweaty. As she entered, the sound of scissors and the buzz of conversation seemed to fade in her mind. Her eyes searched for Y/N, who was distracted by a client and she didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

The last time she tried to talk to the hairdresser, Melissa gave her name right at the entrance and the receptionist automatically started searching through her notes for the note addressed to her, but now the redhead knew better.

"My name is not important. Just say that someone really wants to talk to her."

"Y/N!" the receptionist shouts the hairdresser's name loudly, using her vocal cords without any remorse, "There's a redhead who wants to talk to you."

“Is she hot?”, the sound of Y/N’s voice rings out from a distance to Melissa amidst a laugh, at the same time that her rhythmic footsteps echo on the floor of the salon, as if the hairdresser wasn’t exactly running, but in a kind of hurry and curiosity to know what was waiting for her at the reception.

When the Brazilian woman turns the glass corridor and finally appears in front of the redhead, with a soft smile on her face, Melissa can’t help but think that Y/N is even more beautiful than the first time she saw her.

But that smile doesn’t last long because, the moment the hairdresser’s eyes meet Melissa’s green ones, Y/N’s soft face turns into a frown as she asks harshly:

“Oh. You. What do you want?”

[omgsecretsecret]

Wife

Pairing : Han Jisung x gn!reader ; established relationship

Genre : fluff, a tiny little bit of angst I guess? reader is just a bit anxious

Word count : about 1,750 (I never thought I would write that much)

Warnings : probably nothing lol. Talking about marriage if that's a warning? I didn't make it about a specific religion because marriage don't always have to be religious and I wanted to include as many persons as possible

Author's note : this was supposed to be out for Valentine's day but I'm 2 days late (⁠^⁠～⁠^⁠;⁠)⁠ゞ ; thanks to a lovely friend of mine for helping me proofreading it ; I know the title is "Wife" but I promise it's really gn reader ; the pics on top are not mine, credits to the owners

Taglist : @giddyfatherchris & @0omillo0 <3

Masterlist

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You had been thinking about it for a while. Jisung and you have been dating for a few years now, you even moved in together. He is always the perfect boyfriend, taking care of you when you are happy and when you are not, making you laugh and comforting you. You did have a few arguments, but never anything big enough to threaten your relationship. He is always mature enough to stop before it gets too big. He always makes time for you, and the way he looks at you with all the fondness in the world is just another proof of his feelings for you. And in return, you love him just as much. You hold him when he's down, cook and and help him shower when he's too tired, attack his cheeks with kisses to cheer him up, and always give in to his pouty lips and boba eyes when he asks for 'just a tiny peck' and he ends up pulling you in for a few more 'or he will die'.

He likes to hold your hand pretty much all the time, but he gives you more space when he knows you need it. When he cooks, he always makes a little heart with some items on your plate. It can be with sauce, rice, vegetables, a scrambled egg, anything. It's silly, it can be on the whole dish or just a tiny one in the corner, but it's adorable. He knows your favorite drink, and is always proud to order it for you when you go out. He notices when you run out of something, and always makes a quick run to the nearest store to make a little stock. He sometimes sings you to sleep, and it is your favorite thing ever.

It's the little things that make your relationship so great, and you hope it's the same little things, with maybe some more added, that will keep you happy in your marriage. Because that is what you have been planning. You want to spend the rest of your life with him, and what better way than this to make it official. You know everybody doesn't have to get married, but you want to.

Planning your proposal took a little bit of thinking. You wanted to make something special, of course, but nothing too grand. You know Jisung would be uncomfortable with anything too big. You need a cozy place, at a moment when you are both relaxed (or at least he is), something sweet and personal. That is how you got the idea of a home date.

Jisung and you have started watching an anime together a few days ago because he insisted that you would like it. And so, this would be the evening when you would propose to him.

You have prepared everything. Today is your boyfriend's day off. You're pretty sure he noticed that you are more stressed than usual, and it's probably why he keeps being so so gentle with you, but you don't let that disturb you more. You appreciate his care more than anything, really, but you're too busy making sure everything is perfect to try to reassure him.

You get all of the snacks ready, set all the pillows and blankets perfectly on the sofa and check at least three times that all of the other details are exactly like you want them. You can then finally change into comfortable clothes like every time you organize a home date like this one, except this time you pay more attention to your appearance, taking more time to get ready in more depth to make yourself pretty for the special night.

When you come out, you can't help but feel a wave of affection at the sight of your boyfriend in his oversized warm hoodie and soft pair of sweats waiting for you. He looks a little tense too, probably because of how you have been stressed, and you'll have to help him relax. He's already sitting in the middle of all of the pillows. He immediately perks up at the sound of you entering the room and looks at you, a heart-shaped smile blooming on his face. He pulls up the cover so you can sit next to him and cuddle and he just looks so cute all excited but still slightly concerned about your nervous state.

You give him a soft, genuine smile before making yourself comfortable on the couch with him. You know you have to relax, at least so he can enjoy the show without worrying about you. So you give him a small peck in the lips, rest your head on his shoulder and start the episode.

Unfortunately, your resolution of being relaxed is soon forgotten as you think about what you are going to do tonight. What if he says no ? While preparing everything for today, you were more focused on choosing the right ring, right moment and place, and it's only now that your mind really drifts off to all of the failing possibilities. You're not focused on the anime anymore and it must be obvious because Jisung speaks up at the end of the episode.

"Jagi ? Are you okay ? You weren't even watching. he says in a slightly concerned tone, lips forming a small pout.

— I'm good, baby, sorry about that." you quickly reassure him. "I was just distracted. I'm thirsty right now, do you want something to drink too ?"

He simply nods, big doe eyes following you as you get up and go to the kitchen. Once there, you take a minute to compose yourself. You have to do it now. If you don't do it now, you won't do it tonight, and you don't know when you'll do it. You grab two glasses for your boyfriend and yourself, pour the drinks and take them in one hand. With your other hand, you carefully take the little box that you had hidden earlier and slip it in your pocket. This is definitely not as romantic as what you had planned. You have been anxious all night and you don't even know if Jisung enjoyed it that much. Maybe a regular date out in a restaurant would have been better ?

You shake your head. You would have been just as anxious in a restaurant anyway, except it would have been in public. Now is okay. You take a deep breath and go back to the living room where your boyfriend is waiting for you. You set the drinks down on the table next to your snacks and Jisung is quick to pull the soft blanket up again so you can sit next to him. But this time you don't.

"Before we continue our date there is something I want to tell you. Or ask you." great, first sentence and you already sound stupid. But Jisung doesn't seem to think the same way because he takes your hand as a silent encouragement. "I... I have been thinking about it for a while now. You make me happy, so so happy. Every day when I wake up, you're there with me. You are kind, you are funny, you are gentle, you are strong, you are cute, you are smart, you are creative, you are very too, and there is still so much more. Every moment I spend with you is full of happiness and I want it to last forever." now this is smoother.

You clumsily get on one knee in front of your boyfriend, shaky hands gripping the small box firmly. "So, Han Jisung, will you marry me ?" you see his eyes fill with tears and you hope they are happy tears. "Will you stay with me and be my wife ?"

Silence.

Will he be your wife ? You are so stupid.

"M-my husband ! My husband ! Will you be my husband ! Oh my gosh..." you cover your face with your hands, mortified. How could you make such a dumb mistake when you are fucking proposing to your boyfriend ? The silence is deafening until a laugh which you love is heard. Warm hands grab your wrists and pull them away from your face.

"Baby, it's okay ! If anything it makes it even better." he says while laughing. "I never thought this would happen tonight, but I couldn't be happier." his eyes get watery again. "You are the love of my life, jagi, I want to marry you."

You smile brightly, squeezing him in your arms as tightly as you can. You kiss him with all the love you have for him, your tears of joy mixing with his, before you gasp and pull away. You quickly get back in your previous position and grab your little box again, looking up at your boyfriend– no, your fiancé. You slide the ring on his finger and he entwines your hands.

"So.. what color do you think my dress should be at the wedding ?" he chuckles as he pulls you closer. "I have to look pretty when I officially become you wife !" he teases.

— It was a mistake ! you whine as you hide your face in his shoulder.

— You're so cute. I know you like when I wear a skirt, maybe I should do it more often...

— Stop it !" you cover his mouth with your hand, embarrassed. "... Though I wouldn't hate it." you mumble. He is indeed very pretty in a skirt.

He chuckles again and gently removes your hand from his face. His eyes are still a little moist from his tears of earlier, but you know they were good ones.

"Noted." he says softly, looking at you with a fond gaze. "Is that why you were so nervous earlier ?" he asks and you nod. "Okay. I was a little worried. But it was worth it, I'm your fiancé now !" he grins.

You both stay there for a little while, trying to process that you are engaged now, that he isn't just your boyfriend anymore. You still have lots of time to plan a wedding, so neither of you think about it. You just cuddle peacefully and eventually watch the episode again so you can actually follow the story. It's impressive how quickly you went back to usual. You're cuddling just like you normally do, and from the outside it probably looks like nothing is different, but you know that something between you changed, in a good way. You have the promise of a forever, and you can't wait to call him your husband.

do not repost, translate or rewrite without my written authorisation

[goquokka00]

SKZ vs Shark Week (Minho ver.)

How would each member of Stray Kids handle you while you're on your period?

BANGCHAN | MINHO | CHANGBIN | HYUNJIN JISUNG | FELIX | SEUNGMIN | JEONGIN

WARNING: This is a female reader going through their period. If the topic of a period/anything that has to do with a period makes you uncomfortable, then don't read it. Just remember that there's nothing wrong with a woman's period. It's a perfectly healthy body function :)

THE MOODS When your period is close to arriving, it's very safe to say that you become an absolute nightmare. Even Minho thinks so. Your mood swings are seriously no joke, and so when you woke up crying only to yell at Minho for no reason, Minho knew that your period was close. Oh, joy.

The issue with this is that one itty bitty slip up from Minho would just send wave after wave of emotion, and Minho barely had time to recover before the next switch. If he accidentally brushes his hand against your chest, it's game over. He's getting chewed out about how he's always trying to have sex, and then the next minute your in tears because you feel bad about yelling at him.

So, how does Minho help you? He can't. There's no saving you. All he can do is just take blow after blow, apologize for something that really wasn't a big deal, listen, and comfort you. Carefully. He knew it wasn't you and it was just hormones. He could just pick at you after your period was done.

THE BLOOD God, you think your mood swings are bad? Your flow is worse. You only bleed for 3 days, but holy hell, you bled and you bled HARD. A lot of times, you were on the toilet for the majority of the day because your flow was so bad. And when you weren't, you had to wear a heavy duty pad and a heavy duty tampon. Fucking sucks.

Minho, understanding this, usually does his best to support you. Sometimes, if you're in the bathroom on the toilet just to let blood drain, he'll come in and play games with you. If you don't want him in the bathroom, you and him will do local play video games so you aren't completely alone. And if you're walking around, he'll set up small dates for you both to do at home since you'd rather die than go out in public when your uterus is ripping itself to shreds and making a tidal wave of blood.

THE PAIN Thankfully, you don't deal with too much pain. God decided to have some mercy. Key word? Some. While you didn't deal with pain, you did deal with constipation, bloating, and extreme nausea. It...it was bad.

So what does Minho do? First, he makes sure you're drinking enough. He'll also make sure you eat at least something. He knows that you genuinely don't feel good and are really queasy until your period eases it's choke hold on you, and so he doesn't force you to eat a bunch. But he'll still give you some rice and eggs or foods that'll stick in you instead of making you feel like throwing up.

And once your nausea and bloating is gone, he'll make you whatever you're craving, making sure that the food will also help your intestines loosen up so you aren't uncomfortable when you sit down or move around.

THE PRODUCT There's not a whole lot that Minho can do for you on your period. It kills him every single time, and so he'll always help wherever he can. And if that means running to the store to get you what you need? He's on it.

He knows exactly what you prefer and use, and so he will make sure to buy a lot of it since you go through it quickly. There's zero complaining, zero whining, zero teasing. He's doing whatever he can so you suffer less.

And of course, he's getting anything else that you ask for as well. You want a coffee from a place that's 30 minutes away? Bet, he'll happily go and get it for you. You want croissants? He'll make them from scratch. You want Felix's brownies? Well, Felix is coming over to bake them right here for you. Simple as that.

Hey! Firstly, thank you so much for reading this post, and I really hope you enjoyed! If you did, please like, reblog, or comment so I can see how I'm doing with writing and getting feedback! I hope you have a lovely day! Sleep well, stay in good health, and eat something if you haven't! ❤️❤️❤️

Taglist: @miss-daisy04 @kayleefriedchicken @wolfs-archive @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @wolfs-howling @rose-w-00-d

[syluss-karaoke-teacher]

Love and Deepspace - Nightly Rendezvous - Part IV, Sylus

And finally we complete the series with Sylus' card!! I admit, I kinda dreaded him bc alongside Raf he is my main and his card was so breathtakingly emotional, not to mention pretty much canonically their first time. Hope I was able to do it justice!

Word count: 2539 words

MDNI! Tags and main text under the cut. You have been warned.

NOTE: This fic is only posted on tumblr and on AO3 under the pseud Yuli_Hunter. All other uploads on any other websites are non-authorized. I do not own any part of Love and Deepspace as an IP, but I do own this piece of fanfiction, and you are not allowed to repost it, copy it or otherwise claim it as your own.

That's it, enjoy! ❤️

Tags: reader!MC, fem!reader, PWP, fingering and oral (f!receiving), PIV, mentions of overstimulation, Sylus is king of consent, emotional sex, first time together, yes I make all of them eat MC out what are you going to do about it?

Not beta-read we die like Grandma

*~*~*

You point the gun at his chest with a victorious smirk.

“I won. Now for my prize, Mr. Crow.”

Sylus chuckles, the sound rumbling deep from his chest as he raises his hands in mock surrender. His crimson eyes reflect the crackling fire that illuminates the living room.

“Fair and square kitten. Ask away.”

The tension between you two is so thick you could almost grasp it with your hands. In many ways it is not unlike your first ever meeting. Back then you hated him, hated everything he represented. Then you thought you hated him, and then wished you hated him.

And now… Now you hate that you ever hated him.

You still don’t know why Sylus decided to meet you the way he did, but you aren’t naïve enough anymore to believe it’s solely because he is the boss of Onychinus. The discoveries you have made along your journey have made you painfully aware of just how incomplete your worldview was.

The man before you is a killer and a criminal, yes. But a monster he is not. After all he has shown that he is capable of changing and learning from his mistakes; if not for anything or anyone else, then at least for you.

That is why the famously impatient and easily bored man waits for you, his silver eyebrow arched in a silent question, not pushing or prompting. As he has done from the minute he heard you despised him.

Sylus has no problem embarrassing you: he enjoys seeing you squirm and blush, whether due to walking around in little more than a towel hanging precariously from his sinful hips, or due to the sudden tenderness that he slips into your everyday moments together. He doesn’t hide his gaze raking over your body as you try on a new designer dress he bought for you, and if you ask him directly he will tell you in no uncertain terms just how beautiful you are to him. Yet despite the intensity that oozed from his very being, he always stopped at just the right distance. If you so wanted, this night would end like your nights so far had always ended: in separate bedrooms, with you getting more frustrated each time.

Well, not anymore. If you wanted to play the part of a big, fearless hunter, you should be able to manage this much of an offensive.

“I’m getting tired, Sylus.” To emphasize your words, you fake a yawn and stretch.

Sylus lowers his hands and cocks his head to the side. “That doesn’t sound like a question, sweetie.”

You pointedly ignore his jab, place the gun on the table and lay your hands on his shoulders instead.

“Can you take me to bed?”

There’s a sharp flash in his eyes, and you watch as his whole being refocuses on you. His muscles tense ever so slightly, and you see his Adam’s apple bob before he answers you.

“I thought you wanted to know my destination for tomorrow.”

For an outsider that would be a perfectly normal question. But to you, the only one that Sylus has let this close, the quiet raspiness in his voice tells you everything you need to know; the great leader of Onychinus is in the palm of your hand.

You slide your fingers up the sides of his neck to cradle his face. The crackling of the fireplace isn’t quite enough to drown out the quickening of his breath as you lean in closer.

“I’d rather live in the present, so I won’t dwell on a situation beyond my control. So… will you?”

Sylus’ answer is an unsteady exhale before he tightens one broad arm around your waist. You loop your arms around his shoulders as he lifts you off the couch and starts walking towards the master bedroom. His hand on your thigh almost burns through the flimsy fabric of your loungewear set, and his other hand gently turns your head towards him as he passes through the dimly lit corridors. He doesn’t break your gaze for a second, not even as he settles you on the ground between the loveseat and the bed.

“If you want to go to sleep, you need to release me,” he murmurs, making no move to pull apart. You look up at him coyly and press your body against him. Your head barely comes up to his chin, and you can feel his heart thundering in his chest.

“What if I don’t want to let go of you?”

Sylus smirks, but you see that the corner of his mouth quivering. His hold on you tightens again and he turns you both around before nodding towards the loveseat.

“Then I can keep holding you until dawn,” he says and runs his hand up and down your spine. The heat in his gaze is unmistakable now, and yet he doesn’t act on it. The man who forced you to fire a bullet into his heart the first time you met would now rather rip that same heart out with his own bare hands rather than make you uncomfortable.

The sweet tenderness makes you ache, but right at this moment a feeling far more intense demands to be let loose.

You bring your hands to Sylus’ chest and push him onto the loveseat. He lets out a small, surprised huff as you climb onto his lap and cradle his head once more in your hands.

“Then hold me,” you whisper, only inches away from his lips, “until dawn and beyond.”

The small kiss is all it takes for the dam to break. Sylus moans into your mouth and winds his arm tightly behind your hips and his other hand behind your head, locking you in place as he takes the lead. Sylus’ kisses are all-consuming and feverish, with no room for hesitation. You had been confident that he would return your feelings, but the sheer intensity of his actions leaves you breathless.

When your lips are red and swollen he finally pulls away, only to press a line of kisses along your jaw and neck. His hands run along your hips and ass and pull you flush against him. You whine as you feel the outline of his hard cock against your clothed core. He rocks his hips experimentally against yours.

“Is this okay?” he asks as he kisses your earlobe, “you’ll tell me if you want me to stop, right kitten?”

You answer by kissing him deeply. For a moment he lets you grind against him, but then pulls you back and looks at you with seriousness you didn’t expect.

“I need you to say it: ‘I will tell Sylus to stop whenever I want to.’”

You study his face for a moment, and that tender aching in your chest simmers to life again.

“I will tell you to stop whenever I want to,” you echo back to him. “Now take me to bed.”

You gasp as strong hands grab your ass and lift you up as effortlessly as picking up a kitten by its scruff. Sylus’ lips latch onto your neck and the twinge of pain as he sucks on your skin sends a jolt of electricity down to your core.

Sylus sets you down on the bed. His massive frame blocks the ceiling light almost completely from view. It makes his eyes shine even brighter, and you feel your breath catching in your throat. You lift your fingers to gently trace the corner of the eye wherein his Aether core resides.

“Am I greedy if I say I want you to only look at me?”. Sylus isn’t using his power on you, but you can hear your innermost thoughts raging in your head, nonetheless. They form only one name, one target.

Sylus smiles. It isn’t teasing or arrogant as his usual smirks; your question seems to delight him.

“You have always had the right to demand it, kitten. Which means you can be even greedier now.”

He lifts up your hips and grinds your core against his. You whine as he rocks himself against your silk shorts, the thin fabric doing nothing to hide the wetness that soils your panties underneath. The friction of the fabric against your clit makes your toes curl and you squeeze Sylus’ arm in response.

“Sylus…” you groan between kisses. The world around you grows hazy as your brain struggles to give orders to your body. You want everything from him, all at once, but the words die on your tongue and morph into moans and gasps instead.

Luckily there is an end to Sylus’ self-control after all. Just as you think you can’t take it anymore, he leans his forehead against yours and looks at you so reverently it forces your addled mind into focus once more.

“Do you want this?” he asks. This, meaning him, on you, inside you, tonight or for all eternity?

“Yes. All of it. All of you.”

A twinge of energy skitters along your skin as Sylus’ Evol surges from his fingertips. In seconds both of your clothes fall apart, covering the bed in black tatters. Before you can so much as squeak Sylus flips you over and settles you onto his chest. You gasp at the feeling of your bare pussy pressing against his firm chest. He spreads you wide open and strokes the skin of your thighs with his thumbs.

“I’m afraid I won’t be able to stop once I get to taste you,” he says as his fingers slide closer to your center. “So I’m hoping your answer won’t change.”

You shake your head and let your eyes fall close as Sylus strokes your glistening folds with the calloused pads of his fingers. He stays away from your clit, making you whine from frustration. He chuckles and you slap his chest in retaliation.

“I need to hear what you need, sweetie,” he replies as he catches your hand and brings it his lips to kiss it. “Your pleasure is my pleasure. Whatever you want me to do, I will.”

He pushes your hand backwards past your hips. You blindly reach behind you and shudder as you feel his heavy cock resting against his abdomen. The slight touch makes him sigh and you watch as a beautiful flush rises on his cheeks as you gingerly stroke him.

“See how little it takes? Just the mere opportunity to be able to please you has made me this way. So believe me when I say this, kitten… You are allowed to ask anything of me.”

Your breathing struggles to flow as you take in his words. Your thighs tremble at his sides as you finally swallow your hesitation.

“Your mouth, Sylus… I want you to use your mou—”

The rest of the sentence is drowned in a pitiful wail as Sylus pulls you forward onto his face. You hastily brace yourself on the headboard as he pushes his tongue inside you. You can feel his nose bumping against your clit as he eats you out like a man starved. Instinctively you rock your hips against the divine, soft heat of his mouth. You feel him groan against you, his hands gripping you even tighter to block out any notion of pulling back from your position.

“Sylus, Sylus, oh god…” you whimper as you try to stay upright. You feel so incredibly wet it’s almost humiliating, but the relentless pressure makes you forget any rational thought as you fast approach a high you have never experienced before. You feel Sylus take his other hand from your hip and maneuver it under you, and before you can ask him if he needs a break you feel him slide his middle finger inside your pussy. He changes his position to focus more on your clit as he rubs you from the inside. The change in pace makes you howl.

“Please, please, oh god, feels so good Sylus, please, I’m—” you babble and grip the headboard with white knuckles. Stars swim into your vision as your body tenses to a breaking point. When Sylus pushes another finger in your mouth falls agape in a silent scream and you crash over the peak. The orgasm rolls over you like a tidal wave, and if it wasn’t for the strength of Sylus’ hands you would collapse entirely.

You feel like floating when Sylus lifts you up and flips you over onto your back. He wipes his glistening jaw with the back of his hand as he stares into your eyes with a hunger that hasn’t been satiated in the slightest. You let him manhandle you into spreading your legs for him, hands pressing your things apart and down, his cock dragging itself against your glistening pussy.

“More,” he whispers as he squeezes your thighs almost painfully. “Please, let me hear it. Tell me you want it too.”

You watch as his cockhead catches onto your entrance before sliding forward once more. You feel yourself clenching around nothing as you image him inside you, claiming you, filling you to the brim. You are still quivering from your high as you plead him to take you, all of you.

The moment you give him permission he takes it to heart again. He pushes inside you slowly, lets you adjust to his size, his broad chest heaving with the effort of holding back. His eyes are glazed over with both want and something soft, something you don’t dare yet name. His figure becomes unfocused as tears well up in your eyes from the almost painful fullness.

“Sylus, it’s too much,” you gasp, and he kisses the corner of your mouth.

“Just breathe, almost there.”

By the time he has pressed himself in to the hilt of his cock your head is trashing against the pillows and your pussy is leaking around him in a desperate effort to ease the intrusion. Your mind grows hazy once more as he starts to rock into you, and you could swear you feel his cock nudging your goddamn throat at this point. Just as you think you can’t take much more you feel Sylus’ fingers rub tight circles on your clit.

“Let go sweetie. You can cum as many times as you want. We have the whole night after all.”

And with that he pulls out almost completely before slamming back in, his cock pushing straight against the sweet spot inside you. Your world goes white as you shatter around him.

This time he doesn’t stop. He fucks you like a man possessed, pulling orgasm after orgasm from you as you fight to stay coherent. Only your fourth one proves too much for him and he finally spills inside you with a long, shaking groan. Even then it’s merely a moment’s distraction. His cock doesn’t even soften inside you: instead, he fucks his seed deeper into you while shaking from overstimulation. You tell him with a failing voice that he too can stop if he wants to, but your only answer are blunt nails pressing crescent moon shapes into your hips as he carries you both deep into the night.

Tell me you want it.

I do, Sylus. I want it all.

[rockwgooglyeyes]

Hi Rocky, remember when I said I had conflicting feelings about Round 7. Well um what did you think of the new video

Geo!! Lovely to see you :3

So unpopular opinion maybe, but I actually really liked Wiege? That could be just because I enjoyed the song but the amount of lore that they're able to give us in little snapshots is truly amazing. Hyuna losing her round, Hyuna sacrificing herself for Luka, all of the natural metaphors in the lyrics (the wings drenched with longing finally unfold, you'll embrace the sea that sings, etc), Mizi finally gonna go apeshit . . . I'm excited for what's next and I'm actually very happy with Wiege! Not necessarily happy that Hyuna died but uh thats more complicated. . .

One, it seems apparent that Luka killed the other clones of him? Which is both insane but also makes a lot of sense, insofar as his feeling of superiority towards them. It's a crazy thing to think about but it shows the way that he views most other living beings as chess pieces in a broader game, if that makes sense? He doesn't really care about people on a personal level, most often, and that's what makes Hyuna special. . .

We also get to see how Luka's love is both obsessive and possessive, the him kissing her wanted posted while in his room, (yknow the whole "your life is mine" bit from before) but we also get to see how Luka's love really is, in part, about seeking comfort from someone he loves. He leans into Hyuna while she cries, likely mourning Hyunwoo's death, and when he runs towards her, he's reaching out. It's strange how . . . earnest it is, how unadulterated by anything like possession or conditions. Not only that but Hyuna does seem to genuinely love Luka back, maybe not romantically, but she definitely cherishes him, which we knew before but it's still nice to see confirmed again.

Additionally, I would say that we get evidence that the fight that killed Hyunwoo, well, it was started by Hyunwoo. It seems likely that Luka did something to annoy Hyunwoo or did something that frustrated him, enough that Hyunwoo decided to get physical. I mean Hyunwoo doesn't seem happy about it, for sure. But with the framing, it makes me think that Hyunwoo was simply killed in a fight, most likely on accident- though we know that Luka has possessive feelings over Hyuna, from what we've seen of his past with Hyuna and Hyunwoo, he didn't seem to view them as that much of a separate entity. A lot of the shots where Hyunwoo is still alive, in Wiege at least, Hyunwoo is framed as positively as Hyuna is . . . which makes me think that Luka didn't kill Hyunwoo on purpose.

Then again it doesn't really appear like Luka knew what he'd done, in the aftermath. . .

We also get to see more glimpses of the kiddos at the garden which made me very happy!! I don't have much to say about it but I simply find it endearing to see them all together again, to have that confirmation that they really were friends, they really did love each other. Ivan bringing the others to take care of the waygein was the most interested of the "past" cutscenes to me . . . besides all of the Hyuna focused ones, that is.

Additionally, the snippets of a modern alternate universe, seemingly the high school au? or something adjacent to that, is so lovely, just to see them all happy . . .

I think it's so interesting that Hyuna sacrifices herself, fulfilling a pattern that we've seen before with 3 out of the now 4 dead characters. Ivan, Sua, and now Hyuna, all sacrificed their lives for a person that they loved. It's fascinating on a more meta level that Hyuna's sacrifice is the only one that isn't planned, she didn't intend to die for Luka today but she does because she doesn't think, she just knows that she needs to save him from being killed. I think that both of those forms of sacrifice are kind of lovely, they show the willingness to put your life on the line for someone you love (but sacrifice in and of itself is often a selfish act, and I'm definitely not saying it's heroic . . . just poetic).

Not only that but the rocket imagery behind Hyuna while she's speaking to Luka is so so strange. I don't really know what that is but I have one theory; "because everything begins from there." I think that the rocket, maybe, is representative of that first contact that humans had with the seygein all those years ago, the way that humanity got itself into this mess of slavery and suffering, and by extension, "everything begins from there." but that's my only real thoughts on the rocket . . .

man this is so long I'm sorry Geo . . . suffice to say, I actually like Wiege!! probably a weird thing to say but uh yeah, the song is lovely, the animation is stunningly beautiful as per usual, and the story is utterly thought provoking, I am rapt. The amount of lore we got in this episode along makes me froth at the mouth a little.

Thank you so much for asking, Geo!! I am going to send you an ask because I'm curious what you thought 👀 love youuuu thank you so much for indulging me :3

[kyouka-supremacy]

shin soukoku sleepy headcanons? 👀

Hi thank youuuuuuu ♡♡♡♡♡♡ I'm taking this literally and delivering sskk sleeping habits headcanons:

Okay okay about their sleeping schedules, those are mostly supported by the second guidebook. I agree Atsushi wakes up at dawn because that's what he was used to at the orphanage, and the habit stuck with him.

I also agree that, at least as far as canon goes, Akutagawa sleeps awfully little (around two or three hours per night), if at all; so he's BOTH the night owl and the early bird. I gotta add that at least once every week he'll just pass out for several hours because a routine like that is physically impossible to sustain. It's the trauma + hypervigilance + just the feeling that he hasn't done enough and that he needs to do more. All hail the self-destructive habits king!!

That's the reason why, in the first period after they got together, Atsushi had to take on the habit of just. forcing Akutagawa to go to sleep. Use a blanket to capture him like he was a wild beast if you wish. Akutagawa retaliated using Rashomon so that ended up backfiring, but the point stands that they had to have actual physical fights just for Atsushi to overpower Akutagawa long enough to force him to bed. “You know, you wouldn't have been so easy to knock out if you had been well rested, so get. some. sleep.”

That leads to Atsushi being the big spoon, half solely because that way he can keep Akutagawa from running away. It gradually gets better though, eventually Akutagawa learns to just deal with it.

That said I would really like Akutagawa to answer to his real nature of someone who wakes up very late... Even though as of canon right now this feels too much of wishful thinking... But maybe in the future one day......... (╥﹏╥)

Both of them are ridiculously light sleepers. That's what trauma and years of compulsory hypervigilance does to you. There's no way of moving near them without immediately waking them up.

Atsushi is the one who reads in bed!!!! I'm once again pushing my Atsushi likes to read / Akutagawa doesn't agenda.

Both big on separation anxiety– I'm a firm believer that Atsushi wouldn't have separation anxiety for Akutagawa if only he didn't experience watching Akutagawa die in front of him. Now, at least for the first few months after the doa events, he gets very apprehensive when he's not around Akutagawa + is scared of sleeping without him in case something happens while he's away + would panic if he was to wake up without him by his side. It gets better with time, but I think it will stick within Atsushi the fear of losing Akutagawa, a fear that he wouldn't have had if not for the events of the fight against Fukuchi.

Akutagawa has abandonment issues in general because of the day Dazai left the Port Mafia. I'm really attached to the headcanon that because Atsushi leaves earlier for work, he really does his best to make it so that when Akutagawa wakes up it will be the least upsetting for him, sending him texts, leaving post-its and notes around, preparing him breakfast / lunch to find, making his passage as evident as he can, so that he can reassure Akutagawa as much as possible that he'll be back. I think Atsushi would be the kind to have that sort of sensibility.

Both of them have frequent nightmares! Hurray! (Unrelated related note, but if we count in Beast, we've seen akuatsu both having nightmares in canon material). Atsushi dreams of the orphanage, of the ada insulting and rejecting him like the orphanage director used to do, of Akutagawa dying in front of his eyes. Akutagawa dreams of the night his family was killed, of Gin being hurt or taken away from him, of Dazai.

Akutagawa is the silent type who's gotten used to nightmares over a very long time, so it's harder for Atsushi to notice when it happens; but when Atsushi does notice, he takes great care of verbally reassuring Akutagawa until he's calmed down, because he's a good person.

Atsushi's nightmares are a little more sporadic but very intense, and he'll wake up having full-blown panic attacks. Akutagawa isn't good, at all, at comforting others (please please peoples stop making Akutagawa speak like he's just swallowed a psychology book), but he does what he can to make Atsushi aware that he's by his side, and oftentimes that's everything that Atsushi needs. I really want to stretch that even though Akutagawa doesn't do much that would comfort a normal person, he always ends up being of great moral support for Atsushi, even with his presence alone– and that's canon. What wouldn't work for normal people works for them, because they're Just Like That.

Cliché trope I know but one I'll never get tired of, Atsushi calming down by laying his head on Akutagawa's chest and listening to his heartbeat. Akutagawa's heartbeat sounding especially strong and real to Atsushi due to his tiger sense of hearing, and grounding him. It's important for Atsushi because it reminds him that Akutagawa is a live, and that he's not alone. I really want to stretch the second point: Atsushi fears being left alone greatly, and it's always - and perhaps only - Akutagawa's presence that can reassure Atsushi that he isn't.

[3lliesan]

"Move."

Time.

Yuu didn't have much time.

They realized this after the Dwaf's Mines, the running, the fight, and the trip back from Crowley's office. Ever since that black ink sunk beneath their skin, there was no way to stop it from slowly killing them even faster unless they somehow found a way to release it.

Even before all of that, Yuu knew that their 'heart' was weak. Not having as much strength as when 'she' lived.

Yuu was almost fine with just being invisible. A passing wind, that a few would notice, and forget just as quickly when they're gone. That would leave less pain and bitter tastes...

...

But...

That feeling.

The running with a purpose to achieve something.

The trust in each of their hearts to continue living.

Going against the odds even if things seemed hopeless.

The victory.

A glimpse of any color will do. Just as it did back then.

drip. drip. drip

ba-dump. ba-dump.

There were drums in Yuu's ears right now. No. Heartbeats. Everyone was doing their best to keep themselves alive and find ways to do damage to the Blot creature behind the bloody red queen, and a close friend of one of the people involved.

[Doodle Suit] can only hold out for so long, about half the people fighting were only first-year students, and that incompetent excuse of a headmage was probably too busy to hurry up and get reinforcements to arrive.

Though, most importantly..

"...fuck--!"

Yuu was currently having a problem of their own right now.

Riddle's spear pierced their arm, pinning it to the ground.

And it took a lot of effort for them not to scream.

It stung more than any ordinary arrow. Like a parasite, it was eating away at their limb. Flesh dying black the more time passes. The ones that noticed wanted to help, shouting out in concern, but unable to do much since they needed to focus on fighting for their lives, with Yuu, the one leading the whole thing down.

Is this really it? This was how I'm going to die? What can I even do if Trey uses his unique magic? I doubt it'd lessen enough damage for anything to be done. Am I going to see the fight til' the end at least..?

Sounds went back and forth like a broken record. Yuu tried to block out the entire world with the sound of their heartbeat.

bam. bam. bam. bam.

bam. bam. bam. bam..

Is there really nothing that can be done? Come on, think! Anything!

---

"There's ghosts in the mines?!"

"You've got to be kidding-"

---

"What, you a chicken or something?"

"Who are you calling a chicken, huh?!"

"idiots- do you want to live through this or not?!"

---

"Here's the plan..."

---

"I don't know how we're still alive! Hah- haha!"

"... Bahaha-"

---

--

-

"Oi, Yuu- or should I call you prefect now~?"

"Say that again and I'll show you a demonstration with the word, defenestration." Yuu retorted without hesitation. It was still too early in the morning, they hadn't had coffee in two days, and being addressed formally never failed to weird them out.

"...You look like a pretty guy, but you're freaking scary, you know that?" Now what is that supposed to mean?

Ace sighed, making himself right at home on the previously dusty sofa. "Anyway, as I was saying. I've been wanting to ask this for a while."

"What's up with that sword? You've been keeping that thing with you since the entrance ceremony, and it's not even in good condition."

Ah, right. You've been bringing that broken blade around in its sheath. Now that both Ace and Deuce know that it's only half a sword, that makes it seem even stranger.

"What, is it a family relic? Ya trying to look cool or something?"

"That's.. uh..."

... Well, it's not like Yuu could say anything about it being the one thing tied to their past or something. The atmosphere would turn weird.

---

.

.

.

Yuu's eyes locked right at the unsheathed red blade, in its usual purplish glow during battle. Ever since Yuu figured out how to convert blot to magic power in small amounts, they thought that they'd never need to use the same weapon again from the previous world.

tick. tock.

They pushed their body up with their left arm the best they could, ignoring the pain from the other side.

tick. tock.

Their vision getting blurry, crawled with any remaining strength they had.

drip. drip.

There was no time to have any fantasies of an miracle to appear, nor was there any time to drown in the despair of the current reality.

. . .

. . .

The muscles were begging to stop. The fight was still ongoing. Sounds of running, dodging, clashing, and casting was heard.

There were also an air of anxiety, tense, unnerving feeling in the air.

Along with fatigue.

...

Oh, right.

I'm tired.

Taking a small nap should be fine, right?-

No, I would definitely pass out, or worse..

Give up.. then what would all that be for..?

Why am I... even trying...

----+----

"W-We did it?"

There was a moment of silence as the three tried to process what had just happened.. If the dead monster on the ground was an indication of anything.

"We won..."

"Hooray!"

"We did it!!!"

...

what is it?

Was it because we won? We survived it together? Was it the thrill?

As Yuu started having strange thoughts, they stared at their friends for a while, broken weapons loosely held, still dazed... but not from the same thing as the two boys, too happy to notice how uncharacteristic it was.

Yuu couldn't pinpoint it in a few simple words to brush it off as something cliche. No matter how many literary works they could find to somehow find a way to describe it, it wouldn't feel right...

And for the first time. Yuu wasn't sure if they wanted to figure it out whether it was a good or bad thing.

...

'I want more of it.'

----+----

"...Damnit!"

Reaching out to the purplish hue, so close yet so far, nameless continued ignoring the pitch black crawling up their skin.

drip. drip.

"Just a little... more..!"

Crawling up the neck, pulse dimming bit by bit, soon syncing with the booming of the chest.

drip. drip.

"Move."

A glimpse was all that was needed. Even if You became one with the abyss. A single strand of color in a monochrome plane was enough.

So.

Drip. Tap.

"Move, damnit!"

As soon as Yuu clenched the weapon...

-BOOM!

"...Eh? The attacks..."

"They're all dissolving and gathering towards one place...?!"

So I may or may have not decided to dump any ideas here as practice until I get back on ao3 since something is better than nothing... haha- Yea, this is brain vomit. Please do the same whenever you read what I make THANK YOU! :DDDD

(P.S: Could you tell that this is one of the few times I'm describing atmosphere and feelings? It's so complicated. And I'm going cry :'D)

@twisted-drawritings @karmicpunishment @mellosdrawings

[numberonetacostan]

Me and my friends joke about this all the time, like, if the II contestants aren't immortal anymore, there are a few people on the list who need constant care to not die. First, obviously, Balloon. He can so easily be popped. It seems like most people have gotten over his season 1 attitude, so I don't think anyone would do it on purpose. But all it takes is someone to be a little too forgetful or careless, and he's gone forever. Two, OJ. He can shatter from stress. And he's glass, so I imagine he's pretty fragile. Three, taco. Oh, she's dead so fast, I fear. She's one anxiety attack away. I feel like now that she knows she can die from stress, she'd be a lot more willing to go and look for help if she feels stressed or scared, against her pride. Four, Test Tube. I think it's more likely that she has some sort of reinforced glass, though, considering she holds literal acid. And oh my god lightbulb. She shatters SO MANY times. All it takes is for someone to not look where they're throwing things for her glass to shatter. As a more minor one, Box seems very accident-prone. She keeps getting caught in water and falling down high places; I seriously doubt it won't happen again.

(this is assuming what ever the Prime Shimmers gave them ISN'T a recovery center. I know that's a pretty popular theory)

Hi Moldy!!^^ Welcome back, and thank you for sending in an ask!! :]

Yeah some of the contestants are kind of fucked? Like when Suitcase was telling Balloon that they weren't helpless, I was sitting in the cinema like "I love your girlboss attitude and confidence but he is a balloon" and then I cried some more but that's not relevant to this ask.

But speaking of Balloon!!! He can never go outside again. I have a Balloon that's months old, but that is because it has been in a closet for months. Balloon will have to go back in the closet to survive :( </3. But yeah!!! He's so very vulnerable to literally everything.

I'm putting OJ and Taco in the same spot here, because I'd (in a biased manner, of course) argue that they're the two in some of the most danger because they don't really need anything external to die!! If they spiral too hard, it's over for those gay bitches!! Balloon could at least stay nice and safe in a closet, but at literally any moment OJ or Taco could just fucking snap. At least OJ has his boyfriend, Mepad just fucking died. Taco has earned a couple crash outs after all the bullshit she's been through, I just hope they're not fatal for her.

Testy, I think will be okay, since whatever she's made up is strong enough to hold whatever wacky science liquid is in her, like you said. And she can probably invent something to keep her glass from cracking. Maybe OJ could even get in on that action too!!

Lightbulb... oh dear sweet lightbulb... yeah she's definitely at risk too. Though Painty would certainly be keeping a very close eye on her after having watched her die and all that. Lightbulb is well protected!! And since she's made of glass, Testy could help reinforce her too :)

We have already seen Box eat shit time and time again both alive and as a corpse. She is so accident prone and must avoid all bodies of water and steep hills at all costs. Though, with all that's happened I'm sure she'll be very careful.

(As for what the Shimmers gave them!! Yeah, it could be a recovery center, but as for my thoughts at least, that seems a bit... boring? Obvious, maybe? The crew has mentioned that they're probably not gonna bring Mepad back because it would take away from the emotion and depth of his original sacrifice, and it feels like it would be a similar case for the Shimmer machine. Yeah, it could be a recovery center, and it's not as though I'll be disappointed if it is, but it would negate some of the depth of the sacrifice Mephone4 and the contestants made, yeah?)

[imagionationstation]

If this isn't a bother, can i ask what element you think the turtles belong to?

I already have some idea what Donnie and Leo Elements' powers could be, and maybe Mikey, but Raph is giving me a hard time

Here's the list I think some of the turtles fits

Leo water/ healing

Donnie death/ revival

Mikey electric/ and maybe air? Still unsure about it because water and air are technically the same( and I wanted Leo to have some mist/fog abilities)

Raph, no idea, maybe fire, but that seems too easy

I really want your opinions and ideas about this

But you don't have to! You can ignore this ask if you want! ( sorry if this ask is too long)

Have a nice day/night!

Not a bother! Love this topic!

Leo is definitely water and Raph is definitely fire.

Just because something is easy/cliche, doesn’t mean it’s not accurate. And I love me some accuracy <3

Speaking of which-

When I look up elements, these seem to be the common options.

I went looking because I’m not sure how death is an element?

I’m not very knowledgeable so I’m not going to pretend that I know it’s not, but I’ve never heard of it being a natural element before 🤔

I’ve always loved making Donnie nature because of how entirely opposite it would before him (a man of machines) and yet, it completely defines his expertise (creation).

And Mikey would be thunder/electricity because we’ve already been shown that how would have natural capabilities/instincts when it comes to controlling that kind of power.

And to address your ideas:

Since Leo is water, I definitely think that controlling all water (including creating mist/fog) would be on the table. For a special ability, I think the whole healing/revival thing could be the same power. Healing is more natural and then revival is more draining, inherently dangerous to the person trying to revive someone.

I like the idea of Leo having that gift.

The whole point of fire is eradication. Everything that it touches tends to die or get harmed, but that isn’t all there is too it. It symbolizes life too, because everyone lives off some level of energy- their inner heat, their spirit- that keeps them going.

Raph’s able to sense that heat. He can tell when something is alive- is sentient- in any manner. This can make his power more affective, like tracking a hidden person down. But, this gift also tames him.

He can feel when a person’s flame goes out.

You wanted Donnie to have some connection with death, right? He won’t have the powers of revival, but maybe he has some- some ability to move life. His power is harnessing earth (using it, speaking to it), but his special ability is to use whatever life the earth offers.

He can literally take the life from one object and give it to something else. His power isn’t the same as Raph’s. If a person goes brain dead, Raph feels like their inner fire is out, but Donnie can still feel the life in the beating heart. Donnie’s powers can’t tell the difference between life in a flower or life in a human. It’s all just pulsing energy.

His power is more similar to Leo’s, but while Leo uses his own energy to heal, Donnie merely swaps the energy of other beings.

Something has to die (at least a little) to keep something else alive, whether that be animal to plant, plant to human, or whatever other combination. (There are downsides. Things only have so much energy. You can’t cure a oak tree with the life of one flower, after all. And when the energy is all the same to you- what’s the difference between the life of a rose and the life of your friend? How do you rationalize the murder of one for the other?)

Mikey is probably the easiest of them all to pinpoint. He controls electricity. And his special ability is teleportation. While Donnie can take or give the energy in living objects, Mikey can move anything that has electricity in it at all. Robots, battery-powered toy, phones, power lines- the more electricity, the easier it is to move. The less electricity, the more difficult (and dangerous) it can be. Every time he transports an animal/person, it puts them at risk.

Anyway, that’s just my perspective! Take or leave whatever you want!

I’m just happy to give my two cents!

Thanks for the Ask! It was fun!!

[pumpkinsy0]

PaperCut valentines day hcs!!! wooooooo

•their whole valentines is like that one “VICTOR U ACTUALLY DID THIS” video LMAOOOO

•angela would get a LOT of gifts on valentines day from different ppl and she was feeling extra nice she gave some of her stuff to curly and he would mess up the flowers, eat the chocolates that sorta thing. but after getting w pony he just took those things and gave it to pony, way to save money!!! angela find out and bc shes petty, she gave curly the stuff that had her name on it, but that didnt annoy pony so ha, jokes on her

•just bc curly and pony got a valentines now, dont mean that they’re randomly wishing the best on other couples, ESPECIALLY curly, they go to the valentines secrion of stores and hide somethings to make it seem like its sold out and mess w the teddy bears to make them do inappropriate things, maybe leave some signs that

•tbh most pony can do for curly on valentines is cook for him like the good little malewife he was made to be while curly watches him w his feet up, or if curlys not there swatting everyone elses hands away from the food he plans to give to curly

•curly paid a friend 10 bucks to dress like cupid, diapers, bow and arrow, sashel, the whole deal, and follow him and pony while they were on a date. freaked pony theeeee hell out, he wanted no part in that bs

•pony plays into the corniness of valentines day and to what curly makes fun of him about, and makes purposely very corny poems about curly

•their first valentines together, pony didnt do anything for curly, which he felt bad for seeing that curly got him at least chocolates, he didnt think curly was the type so he didnt bother😭😭, curly doesnt let him live it down, every valentines day he brings it up

•id like to think that curly spent time shaping his afro into the shape of a heart but after pony saw it, curly fixed it back to its normal shape out of embarrassment

•let a diner allow for couples to eat for free if they kiss in front of a worker for longer than 5 seconds, pony and curly r making OUT!!!! RIGHT THERE!!!!!!! slip in tongue or something for extra measure, those heart shaped burgers will b THEIRS

•valentines is one of the only days pony actually calls curly pet names, nothin too crazy but babe and if hes feelin risqué, baby, curlys reveling in it

•one of the bday months i could see curly having is february, bonus points if the day is closer to valentines, curly gets all prissy w pony and pony in an odd way is into it, what weirdos🙄🙄

•despite being able to somewhat speak it, curly thinks french is a gay ass language, however bc its seen as “the language of love” to some ppl, he dusts off the part of his brain that remembers it and speaks the most french hes ever spoken since moving to the us and hits on pony w it. but like i said, his french is rusty, ik he messes up his sentences sometimes n calls pony things he dont mean to say

•each valentines day chances r if u look well enough, ur gonna see pony and curlys initials carved into a new place, they got no shame!!!

•curly will pick flowers from ppls neighborhoods to use as a bouquet to give to pony, pony always keeps a flower or a flower part to use as a bookmark, till it rots more and more just wilting away

•pony spends an embarrassing amount of time making sure he looks good on valentines day, he feels like such a girl he hates it so bad but cant help it😭curly calls pony his doll bc of it

•valentines double date is a no go for them, they would rather die than let anyone know what the do for each other on valentines, its so awkward

•curly and pony prolly use the hellllll out of their older brothers cologne, only difference is darry thinks its cute and doesnt mind, tim will throw a fit over it, mf just take a shower and do ONE SPRITS