#this is me stating that water is wet at this point. its just... this specific parallel of them wrecks me

[hesperidia]

There's something i love about sskk and the way life and death are dealt with in Beast:

When Atsushi is introduced at the very beginning of the story, he says he became the reaper (death itself) in order to escape from it, because he is terribly afraid of dying. he admits this.

When Akutagawa's arc comes to its turning point nearing the end, he admits the second man he wanted to kill was himself. Now his disregard for consequences and tendency to go in suicidal rampages makes sense. He doesn't think he deserves living.

Still, when Kunikida ignites that little spark of hope inside of him, he decides to keep going. and he's able to defeat Atsushi, who then asks him to kill him. Atsushi, deathly afraid of dying. Asks for the release of death.

And Akutagawa refuses and encourages him to keep living. He, who only moments before wanted nothing else than what Atsushi is asking of him.

Two men surrounded and marked by death at the beginning. A boy who desperately wanted to live and another who wanted to die exchange places, and at the very end, they both helped the other (in its own, convoluted way) see that life is worth living for.

[i-just-really-like-renga]

I’ve talked about this before but I’m sleep deprived and I’m gonna talk about it again.

Why Adam Hates Reki And How Exactly Sk8 Made The Best Bible Metaphor Of All Time; A Disorganized, incomplete collection of thoughts:

For all its flaws, there are many aspects of sk8s symbolism that are masterfully done and today I am thinking, again, about Adam, his “Eve” Langa, (ew) and Reki.

Like. Adam’s obsession with Langa is self explanatory enough. Therefore I will spare all of you, and myself, and let that speak for itself.

“But how does Reki fit into that?” You ask, and I am so glad you did.

The first point I want to make is that, obviously, Reki’s color is red. I mean, just look at him. You can’t miss it. Okay, hold onto that thought because I will be coming back to it.

Now, see, Adam could have asked anyone to stand in for Shadow in the tournament finals. Joe. Cherry. Miya. Literally anyone. But no. He has Tadashi, aka Snake, invite Reki, specifically. Because in his eyes, Reki is a threat. An ‘obstacle’ between him and Langa that needs to be dealt with. (Excuse me while I barf.)

“That’s crazy!” You say, lips curled in outrage and disgust. And, on one hand, you’re correct. But on the other hand, so is he. Because he’s right. In a way.

One thing we are shown repeatedly as the audience is that Reki embodies a pure and genuine love of skating. (What? Gasp, no way. And water is wet and the sky is blue???? Say it ain’t so!) Another thing we are shown is that Adam used to love skating the same way when he was younger, but all that sincere passion he used to hold for skating has been wheedled away into something dark and destructive. It is canonically stated on at least one occasion that he considers skating “an act of love”. So, maybe Adam’s annoyance (jealousy) of this particular aspect is more subconscious. Or he could be entirely self aware. I wouldn’t put it past him.

Another side still of Adams’s jealousy is much more simple. He hates Reki because Langa loves Reki. In his twisted little head, he is Adam, Langa is Eve, and Reki is a speck of dirt under his skateboard. Nothing else makes sense to him. And that is because he forgot the third and final piece of the gross bible metaphor he thinks he’s living.

Reki is not useless, a nobody, or a third wheel.

Because Reki is the apple.

The embodiment of knowledge, and the thing used to tempt Eve.

He is never referred to as such explicitly, but he is the one who first showed Langa how to skate. Reki is, in Langa’s words, his “teacher”. The person with the knowledge Langa wants to learn the most. (Plus, I find it hard to believe that they ‘accidentally’ had Snake, of all people be the one made to extend the invitation to Reki, which was done purely to get at Langa. )

And that is a good chunk of why I think Adam well and truly despises Reki.

You have Adam, Langa, and Reki.

Adam, “Eve,” and the apple secured by the snake.

And brother, Adam knows that Eve always chooses the apple.

[lionessfeather]

So last night as I was starting to slowly drift off to sleep, my brain suddenly stuck on something (I promise this is Temeraire related). You see, the Netherlands have used "can't get an army across lots of water" as a basic defence strategy pretty much from Roman times until we got airplanes. The extent of it has varied; sometimes it was as simple as "well the river is too big" (Romans), sometimes it was "if we break this dike right here, the polder will flood and the Spanish can't get at the city". But, from the end of the 17th century, there was a systematic line of forts along the polders and rivers that could protect the province of Holland (specifically), here shown in purple. To the south there's big rivers leading into an estuary, and then it protects the province from invasion to the east. From about 1870, it was replaced by the orange parts, as well as the brownish line around Amsterdam specifically. The yellow area is from the mid-18th century. It is basically a collection of forts, and a series of locks. Together, these can make it so the coloured areas flood to a depth of 30-60 cm. Too deep for infantry, not deep enough for boats. It protects the capital of Amsterdam (with its important harbour), and the big cities of The Hague, Utrecht and Rotterdam.

And again, until we developed airplanes and parachutists and airplane bombs and so on, this worked really well.

Now, since I've been rereading the Temeraire books, the drifting off to sleep made me suddenly realise - how would dragon aerial warfare interact with this? Which morphed into a discussion with my partner (who hasn't read the books) about how Dutch dragons would work.

The first thing I'd like to do is point out the size of the Netherlands, compared to the British Isles and to the United States:

In other words, very small. And, very importantly, it used to be even smaller; a lot of the current land was reclaimed from the sea or large lakes between roughly 1650 and 1950. Most of the west of the country is below sea level, and very wet. A fair part of the east of the country isn't very rich soils and thus not great for farming (until chemical fertiliser is invented in the 1900s) (though they did use sheep dung as fertiliser, and they would almost certainly have thought of using dragon dung as well, eventually).

So I propose that actually, the Netherlands probably would have mostly had middle- and lightweights. There just isn't the area to support a large enough population of heavyweights that they aren't all inbred. My partner suggested there is probably one heavyweight breed, and I like that idea. I think that - militarily - the Netherlands would probably have figured out a strategy for using middle-weights against heavy-weights when they are fighting alone, but preferentially use their middle-weights as support in battles when there is a larger coalition, joining whoever is on their side.

However. There may only be middle-weight dragons, there would be a fairly large number of different breeds, with different strengths. You see, unlike the United Kingdom, where England was mostly united by around 900 CE, and then the Normans strengthened that, or France, which has a similar time scale, the Netherlands is a collection of loose duchies and counties and prince-bishoprics and so on, pretty much until the 1550s. The map pictured is from 1670, after a fair amount of the lands have been united into a republic; there would likely have been more divisions before then.

They get united under the dukes of Burgundy, eventually, but even at that time, it is still the Duchy of Brabant and the County of Holland and so on. But until they come together against Spanish rule, the separate parts regularly fight with each other. Which means that each of them would have their own breeds. (Likely, Holland and Zeeland would have very similar dragons, with aquatic adaptations, who get fed on a mixture of fish and meat; the more inland regions would have more "standard" breeds. To outsiders they all look incredibly alike, but if you mention to someone from Guelders that you cannot tell their Zwarte van Gelre apart from the Brabants Blauwtje, they would be so insulted. Can you not tell that theirs is a pure midnight black while the Brabants Blauwtje is blue? However, the breeds are so alike that most of them follow a continuum. Except the Fryske Grutskens, which looks very distinct). This is also where the single heavy-weight breed comes in - I think it would have been Flanders. Flanders is a part of the kingdom of France (rather than the Holy Roman Empire, which is the power the rest of the motley collection belongs to). One of the counts of Flanders probably got a breeding pair of heavy-weights from the king of France; maybe during one of the (many) revolts. These were crossed with the native middle-weights until a new breed of heavy-weights was developed. And finally, purely for my own amusement, William the Silent/William of Orange, who led the 1548 revolution against the Spanish, would have a dragon that is actually orange. No one knows how or why it came out that colour, none of its progenitors was, it just did and he was named for it (the fact that he is Prince of Orange is a bonus).

I also think that the Dutch would be using dragons for shipping, at least within the country. It is efficient and cheap (especially the dragons that grew up having fish as part of their diet), and the Dutch have always been fans of efficient and cheap and trade. And since it's all middle-weights, that is less scary than heavyweight breeds dropping in. I don't think dragons would be used for passenger-work, but loading the big ships, that can't quite reach the harbour? Definitely. And if you have large-ish ships, but only middle-weight dragons, it's probably much easier to ship dragons across the world, so you can also have a dragon when you arrive at your destination.

To bring it back to the idle thought that started this all - the Waterlinie, aka using the water to prevent invasion. My partner and I think it would still have worked, mostly. The Romans start taming the native European breeds, so they probably could cross the Rhine. In our world, the Rhine was the limes, the border, because they can't cross it in large enough numbers; but if they have dragons and the native Germanic tribes don't, then they can. I don't think they'd have been able to hold the land, not for long, and it's not interesting enough to bother anyway. But after that, when the playing field is levelled by everyone having dragons, the water would still be a workable defence. Yes, the aerial forces can come over and wreak havoc - except everyone has dragons now and so they will try to defend it - but the infantry still has trouble crossing the water. And then, when artillery gets developed, it's still the same. You can shoot at the enemy dragons, they can shoot at yours - and the infantry still can't cross the water. I think an enemy (often the French) would try to use dragons against the forts, before they can inundate the land, but that it wouldn't work as well after.

Anyway, here are some rambly thoughts about Dutch dragons in the Temeraire universe. (Sidenote but I can't make heads nor tails of the Dutch names that are used once or twice in the books. They just don't work.)

[tobiasdrake]

One day later, the investigation begins.

Who's this dipshit? I don't like his hair cut. Or turtleneck. Something about his whole vibe screams "Daddy's money makes me invulnerable to consequences so I might do a-n-y-t-h-i-n-g." He's got that look, y'know? The "Promising Junior Entrepreneur" look.

Oh, but there I go prejudging people. Halara would disapprove.

Pros: He worked in healthcare.

Cons: He worked in capitalist healthcare.

So. Y'know. That could go either way.

Oh, have you? Haircut's about to marry into incredible wealth then, courtesy of your inheritance? Interesting.

We're about to see him in Postcognition, but this will be useful to compare with the body, I suppose. Make sure our corpse is the right guy, I guess?

This is a weird element to this particular crime. I feel like it's going to be mystery-critical. Someone bashed in every single fish tank, including the one our victim allegedly drowned in.

As I noted before, the state of the fish tanks at the time of the First Witness arriving will decide whether or not we can rule out the accidental death theory. If the tanks were already broken when the first witness found the body, then it can only be murder.

All of the fish-keeping stuff is kept in one spot. Nothing particularly stands out, besides its placement. This might be important, or it might not.

After the tanks were bashed in, the floor would have been drenched.

Peculiar, but not provably related to our case. People do weird shit in their own homes all the time.

If we can find a connection, however, this may prove interesting.

How wild would it be if the murder weapon was the Forever Rain? Like the guy was sealed in the room and the rain somehow filled it up?

That's probably not it. I have no basis for that idea. I just thought that using Kanai Ward's most distinctive (and important) feature to commit a murder would be cool. Back to serious investigation.

Again, not necessarily related to our case but if a connection can be proven then this could be interesting. It will be intriguing to know what this place looked like at the time of the body discovery.

Oh, that's definitely a water stain. It implies that at one point in time, the room was full to that line with water. Everything below that point is water-damaged.

That seems undeniably critical to our case. The victim did not likely drown in a fishtank. He drowned when the room was abruptly converted into a happy-fun wading pool.

Maybe the Forever Rain was the murder weapon?

Though it should be noted that the water line goes high enough that you could conceivably drown someone in it. But. Like.

It's not high high. It's still hard for a grown man to drown in waist-deep water. Less difficult than a fish tank, but difficult all the same.

Didn't see the temperature regulator that allegedly electrocuted our victim unconscious. Is it in or on the fish tanks? Because if it's a tank specific thermostat then "He touched it with wet hands" wouldn't suffice as a reason to get electrocuted. Anything attached to a fish tank should be pretty well insulated against water. For obvious reasons.

[night-dark-woods]

ID. photo of a whiteboard with bullet points written on it, titled "Stocking Reminders."

Top stock goes in the same 4' section as the stock.

Each SKU's overstock should be all in one spot. (below this point there is a diagram of a shelf with colorcoded boxes, one mixed up and one with the colors together)

Don't overfill hooks/shelves. There should be one straight line of product! If it won't hang nicely that is too much.

End ID.

end of my fucking rope tuesday. this won't stop my coworkers because they can't read but the amount of topstock i found in fucking random aisles today was truly absurd. like we've graduated from putting it in the same aisle 16ft away on the opposite side (annoying but at least line of sight) to putting it in topstock in its unlabeled cardboard shipping box, three aisles away, in a different department.

other highlights of today:

i asked this kid to downstock One Aisle and he spent 3(?) hours standing over there doing, as far as i can tell, nothing. which dgmw i can respect. minimum wage => minimum effort but my man that wasn't even CLOSE to the minimum and you are actively making everyone else's lives more difficult!!!

hardware mgr tried to have someone else (the aforementioned kid who can't even put stock in the right spot!!!) do counts on stock, BEHIND MY BACK, AGAIN. so i started off the day with an argument with him. bc if im not shooting outs regularly enough for you fucking TALK TO ME. and i will tell you what i need, which is you to do your fucking JOB and MANAGE YOUR PEOPLE. and get on their asses to actually maintain their sections!!! i could do the whole fucking store in an hour if literally anyone else did their jobs!!!

got a new rope assortment in from a new vendor, hardware mgr packed up the old stuff for buyback but ALSO managed to pack up a bunch of the NEW stuff with it despite the packaging being a completely different color AND saying the new brand name, so i had to go digging in 15 different taped-shut boxes to find it back.

just some truly atrocious and annoying customers. girl if youre in a hurry that is YOUR problem for not planning. i cant read your mind and i cant give you an answer if you cant explain your problem to me.

got called "ladies" collectively about 8 times today by my coworker who a) does ABA as his other job b) asked me if ozzy was my "real name" and c) said he used to be a liberal but he thinks there are more important things than peoples' identities. we're mostly copacetic now though bc he sees how much work i do and also we've commiserated about the state of the educational system & when he was talking about how "boys and girls learn differently" i very lightly floated the "well, i don't think that's inherent necessarily, you know, like we're raised and taught certain ways to be from SUCH a young age, and kids pick up on stuff pretty fast," and he was like huh ive never thought about that. ill have to think about that. so not unsalvageable! just a particular Kind Of Guy.

they're doing work on the roof and they fucking broke the ancient drainpipe that runs through our upstairs backstock area, so theres like three totes worth of roof-water-soaked merchandise that i have to take out of inventory tomorrow. and everything else in that backstock area has a fine coating of rust flakes from the disintegrating ceiling. and i was paged up there to help sort thru the stock and like. there are THREE PEOPLE here today who actually have a manager title, which I DONT!!! so why cant the three of you take care of it!!! and i KNOW its bc im good at problem-solving and don't really say no and would do it faster than anyone else but god. come on. its putting wet stock in totes.

also in the last 30 min of my shift (in the hardware dept!!! doing inventory counts!!!) my coworker walkied Me, Specifically, even though i knowww they were fully staffed in cashiers and housewares today, to pick up a call from a specific problem customer ABOUT A HOUSEWARES PRODUCT. bro i know FULL WELL you are doing fucking nothing but online shopping on the work computer, you fucking handle it!!! im on a DIFFERENT FLOOR and im busy doing other shit!!!

and its only tuesday!!! yippee!!!

[ivlymonii]

Comfort On Christmas Eve (FengQing Christmas Oneshot)

“What the fuck?”

That is the first thing that comes out of Feng Xin’s mouth when Mu Qing comes back to their apartment, soaked, posture absolute dogshit, and swaying back and forth like a drunk idiot.

Mu Qing stumbles wordlessly into their shared apartment and flops face down onto the couch like a rag doll. He looks absolutely pathetic, like a marionette whose strings had been cut. 

Feng Xin stares at him, bewildered at Mu Qing’s current state. For one thing, Mu Qing looks like someone just poured a whole bucket of water over his head and a typhoon made its way through his hair, for another, Mu Qing isn’t snarling and firing snarky remarks at Feng Xin the moment he walks in the door, instead, he just lies there, completely silent and letting the water from his wet hair and clothes drip to the floor. After several seconds of bewildered staring, Feng Xin finally says, “Oh my god, what the fuck happened to you, huh?”

Mu Qing doesn’t respond right away, instead, he groans and grumbles and sits up on the couch, he mutters something that Feng Xin doesn’t hear and flops back down. 

“What was that?” Feng XIn moves his head towards Mu Qing, trying to catch what Mu Qing just said. 

Mu Qing grumbles and mutters again. 

Feng Xin can’t hear him. “Dude, I still can’t hear you, speak up for god’s sake!” 

Mu Qing shoots up suddenly. “I said I left my umbrella at home!” he yells at Feng Xin and glowers at him through a thick curtain of wet hair that was still dripping with water.

“Then why didn’t you just come home?!” 

“That’s none of your business.” Mu Qing looks to the side and falls/sits back down on the couch. 

Feng Xin still isn’t satisfied. “Then why didn’t you just call for me to pick you up?”

“Phone died.” Mu Qing answers. “Also, why would I ask for you to pick me up? It’s not like we’re-” he stops there. “Nevermind.” He buries his face in his hands and leans forward so that Feng Xin can’t see his face. 

Feng Xin watches him with a face full of pity, when in fact, he’s feeling a lot more than pity right there. Questions swirled around in his mind about the

current state of Mu Qing and his attitude. Why is Mu Qing like this? Why is he back so late? Why isn’t he teasing and bitching at me right now? Normally, when he sees Mu Qing upset, he’d tease him about it, fully expecting for him to fire back with a snarky remark and that’d escalate into a verbal fight that ended in both of them sulking for an hour before moving on like nothing happened, but today? After seeing how Mu Qing was acting, Feng Xin didn’t have the heart to do that. There was just something that was so off about Mu Qing today, something negative, but Feng Xin can’t exactly put his finger on what.

“Hey, uh, are you okay?” Feng Xin reaches out a hand towards Mu Qing. 

Mu Qing looks back at him through his hands. “Of course I’m okay, what makes you think that I’m not okay?” 

Feng Xin thinks. Bitch, anyone with eyes could see that there is a lot of shit that’s not okay with you right now, stop lying.

Well, besides the obvious, the obvious being that Mu Qing came back home at a very late time in the night, he was drenched and shaking like a leaf, there was just something in his body language and overall attitude that was extremely unfamiliar to Feng Xin. He was used to Mu Qing sassing him around and snarking at him whenever he asked the simplest of questions, but there was none of that now, Mu Qing looked somber, muted, sad.

And Feng Xin wasn’t sure he knew how to deal with that. 

“Well for one, you just came back home at an ungodly time in the night, and for another, you are absolutely drenched, you’re shaking, and you don’t even seem to care that your precious pretty hair is pretty much ruined right now.” Feng XIn replies, specifically emphasizing the last point. Mu Qing cares a great deal about his hair, waking up at least half an hour earlier than Feng Xin every day to style it and flipping Feng Xin off whenever he mentions it. Feng Xin hoped that the hair comment would bring some of Old Mu Qing back, but to no avail. 

Mu QIng rolls his eyes but doesn’t say anything. 

Feng Xin sighs. “I’m gonna go grab you a towel.” 

Feng Xin disappears into the other room for a towel, but instead of just handing his roommate the towel and having him dry himself off, he returns with a towel, a giant sweatshirt of his own and a hot cup of tea from the kitchen. He shoves the towel and sweatshirt in Mu Qing’s arms and sets the cup of tea in front of him. 

“There, dry yourself off and then change. God knows how much warmth the clothes you wear actually provide.”

But of course, because Mu Qing is literally the most difficult person on Earth, he doesn’t start drying himself off right away, instead, he just stares at the towel and sweatshirt and rubs them with his fingers every few seconds. 

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Feng Xin grabs the sweatshirt and towel and takes matters into his own hands. First, he starts to wring the water out of Mu Qing’s hair, and for good measure, grabs a brush and starts untangling his roommate’s messy wet hair as gently as he can, because god knows how big of a fuss Mu Qing will make out of Feng Xin handling his hair roughly. 

“Excuse me for this.” Feng Xin says as he removes Mu Qing’s jacket and sweater and wrestles him into the sweatshirt. He then shoves the cup of tea (which is still surprisingly warm despite the winter cold) into Mu Qing’s hands and wraps a blanket around the guy like he’s a baby. 

Throughout this entire process, Mu Qing is extremely docile, only offering occasional half-hearted remarks such as “Quit mother-henning me.” or “Oh my god you’re gonna regret this.” and “No way I’m getting in that.” (“Too bad” Feng Xin says as he jams the sweatshirt over Mu Qing’s head.) but never actually making any effort to make Feng Xin stop. 

By the time that Feng Xin is done, Mu Qing still isn’t acting like himself, Feng Xin finally decides he’s having enough of this and asks:

“Alright, what the fuck actually happend? You come home looking like a hurricane just went through you, and don’t do anything when I fuss all over you, so what the hell is going on?”

“I’m okay.” Mu Qing says, gripping the mug tighter. 

Bitch I thought we went over this. Feng Xin thinks to himself. “Oh really? Cause those tear tracks I saw while helping you would beg to differ.”

Fuck. Mu Qing thinks. 

Mu Qing takes a deep breath. “I got dumped.” 

Okay so that was unexpected. 

“Wh-what?” Feng Xin heard that correctly, right?

“I got dumped.” Mu Qing repeats. “I got ghosted by my date tonight, on Christmas Eve of all days. That asshole didn’t even bother to show up after we had talked for so long, and when I finally ask him out on a date, he accepts, but then doesn’t even bother to show his face! He didn’t even answer when I texted him, bitch just left me standing in the rain for a solid fucking hour.” Mu Qing wipes his tears on his sleeve “Happy now?” He looks at Feng Xin with watery eyes and finishes. 

Feng Xin is absolutely flabbergasted by this. How could anyone ghost Mu Qing? He couldn’t even think of the act. How could anyone make plans with Mu Qing and then ghost him? How could anyone think to go out with Mu Qing on a date, and then ghost him? And the fact that it was Mu Qing who asked the guy out, that made Feng Xin feel really unpleasant. 

“Oh… Oh my god. You got dumped.” Feng Xin says.

“Yeah, yeah. You don’t have to rub it in my face, you know.” Mu Qing glares at him, wiping more tears on his sweatshirt sleeve. 

“Holy shit you actually got dumped.” Feng Xin repeats. 

“What, is this funny to you or something?” Mu Qing glares at him. “Feng Xin, if the fact that I got dumped amuses you or something then I swear to god I will punch you in the face right here, right now.” 

“N-no,” Feng Xin holds up his hands. ‘It’s not funny to me whatsoever.”

Feng Xin scoots a little closer to him. “So, uh… do I know the guy that you got ghosted by?”

“Why the fuck would I let you know who I was “dating”? Also, why would you want to know?”

“Nothing, just curious.” Feng Xin tries to make it sound as inconspicuous as possible.

“Well then stop being curious.” Mu Qing sets down the cup of tea and wraps the blanket tightly around himself. 

Mu Qing stays like that for a bit, but Feng Xin knows that he wants to complain about the guy, and it only was a matter of time before he started to bitch again.

And said matter of time was literally five fucking seconds. Mu Qing unravels himself from the blanket and leans forwards at the coffee table. 

“Ugh.” Mu Qing picks up his phone and taps into Whatsapp. “You know, you’re lucky I haven’t blocked his number or deleted his contact yet.” He says as he scrolls through his Whatsapp chats. “Where the fuck is he…” he mutters as he looks for the chat of the guy he was chatting with. “Ah here we go.” he says and taps on the profile picture of What’s-His-Face and shoves the phone in Feng Xin’s face.

It was a very poorly taken selfie of the guy flexing shirtless in the bathroom mirror. Just the sight alone was enough to make Feng Xin cringe. “What? He looks like an idiot, I didn’t know you liked guys like that.”

“What my type is is none of your fucking business.” Mu Qing says as he shows Feng Xin a few messages between him and the man until he pulls away and blocks the guy’s contact and deletes every single photo that What’s-His-Face has ever sent him in his gallery. “Also, he kind of looks like you.” He adds teasingly.

“What?” Feng Xin is a little annoyed by that. “I do not look like that guy just there.”

“Oh really? I think you do.” Mu Qing teases. 

Feng Xin opens his mouth in protest but closes it quickly. Mu Qing wasn’t exactly wrong when he said that that guy looked like Feng Xin. Same body type, tanned skin from being in the sun a lot, and down to the bun on the top of his head. 

“Well then uh,” Feng Xin scoots a little closer to Mu Qing. “If this breakup has got you so down, you must’ve really liked him, huh?”

“Well, not exactly. We didn’t really know each other, it was just hookups every time we met in person. Hell, I don’t even know his birthday.” Mu Qing says.

“Then why are you so upset over the breakup then?” Feng Xin asks him. 

Mu Qing sighs. “It wasn’t the fact that we broke up or the fact that we broke up over text, but, what he said when we did.” he sets his phone down and buries his face in his hands. “Why am I telling you this? It’s not like you care.”

But Feng Xin does care, he cares much more than Mu Qing knows. “Well, tell me anyway.” 

Mu Qing sighs. “If you laugh, I’m gonna castrate you.” 

“I won’t.” 

“Well if you do then I’m not going back on my word.” Mu Qing takes a deep breath. “He said that I was really messed up, and that I wasn’t the type of person that anyone in their right mind would want to be friends with, let alone date, and that he pities whoever is f-friends with me, and that, that was it.” Mu Qing’s voice starts getting shaky at that last part, and tears start welling up in his eyes. He tries to wipe them away, but with no avail. “Well if I’m really that bad, then why did he let this go on for so long?” Tears are threatening to spill from his eyes and he buries his face in his hands. 

Several different emotions go through Feng Xin at the sight of Mu Qing starting to cry. 

The first is rage, how dare someone make Mu Qing feel that way and say all those things to him? If it weren’t for the fact that Mu Qing was crying, he

would’ve asked Mu Qing for the guy’s address and marched on over in the rain to give him a piece of his mind. 

The next was sympathy, for obvious reasons.

And the third was dismay, seeing Mu Qing so weak and falling apart over some guy just made Feng Xin even angrier and the thing that Mu QIng says right after doesn’t help much. 

“Don’t answer that, I know what you think of me right now, why did I ever agree to tell you?” Mu Qing tries to glare at him, but it falls apart before it even lasts a second.

Feng XIn couldn’t stand to see Mu Qing like this, so he does the one thing he never thought he’d do.

“Alright, come here, you dummy.” he wraps his arms around Mu Qing and before Mu Qing can even react, he’s being pulled into a tight hug. 

Surprisingly, Mu Qing does not react negatively like Feng XIn thought he would at this impulsive decision and sudden close contact, instead, he melts into the hug and buries his face in Feng Xin’s shoulder. 

“You wanna know what I think of you?” Feng Xin starts talking, he can feel Mu Qing tensing up.

A million thoughts go through his head at once. I think you're beautiful, I think you’re super annoying, I think you are the most annoying person I’ve ever met, I think the way you care so much about kids is adorable, I think us meeting is the best thing that has ever happened to me, I think you’re my best friend, even if you don’t feel the same, I think I’ll never get sick of how you’ll complain about the smallest things, i think there’s no one else in the world that I’d want to fight with, laugh with, be with for the rest of my life. I think I love you. 

“I care about you, okay? I care about you because you’re my friend, and if I’m being honest, I feel like you’re my best friend, and I think that that asshole doesn’t deserve you.” Feng Xin says while rubbing circles on Mu Qing’s back. 

“O-oh.” Mu Qing manages to say, before snuggling closer to Feng Xin. “Yeah, well. I care about you too.” 

________________________________

The next morning, Feng Xin wakes up on the living room couch with a weight on his chest. 

“What the fuck?” he murmurs, and rubs his eyes. That’s when he notices the black head of hair in his face, and Mu Qing sleeping soundly on his chest with the blanket draped over the both of them.

Feng Xin reasons that both of them fell asleep while they were hugging last night and smiles down at the sleeping figure of Mu Qing. 

He reaches for Mu Qing’s head and plays with his long black hair while trying his best to ignore the fact that his heart was breakdancing and doing somersaults in his chest over the fact that Mu Qing was sleeping on him.

Feng Xin continues to play with Mu Qing’s hair for the next ten minutes before Mu Qing blinks open his eyes and asks, “What’s going on- Oh.” 

That’s when he realizes he’s basically cuddling with Feng Xin. 

“What the fuck?” he scrambles to get off the man, but Feng Xin has an arm tightly locked around his waist and he can’t get out of this compromising position with his… friend? 

Wow, that word still sounded strange when talking about the both of them. 

“S-sorry. I must’ve fallen asleep on you while we were… you know.” Feng Xin apologizes and unhooks his arm so that Mu Qing can get off of him. 

“Don’t worry, it’s uh, it’s okay. I fell asleep too.” Mu Qing gets off of Feng Xin and looks out the window. “Holy shit.”

“What?” Feng Xin stands up from the couch and when he sees what Mu Qing sees, he’s repeating what his roommate just said. “Holy shit.” 

There was fresh snow falling from the sky, and the buildings were coated with it, making the view outside look like something straight out of a storybook. 

“Wow.” Feng Xin says. “This is… beautiful.” 

“Yeah.” Mu Qing agrees beside him. “Hey Feng Xin.” 

“Yeah?”

“You wanna know the reason I even got with that guy in the first place?” 

“Uh, okay.” 

Mu Qing takes a deep breath, this is it. “I was trying to get over you.” 

Feng Xin’s eyes widen. “Wh-what do you mean by that?”

Mu Qing rolls his eyes. “It means, I had a crush on you, you idiot, and because I thought you hated me and thought you’d never reciprocate, tried to get over those feelings by hooking up with other people. Well that obviously didn’t work.” 

Feng Xin is so stunned he can barely get a word out.

Mu Qing’s face falls. “And here I was, hoping that there was a chance after- I’m heading to my room.” He tries to leave, but is stopped when he feels a warm hand tightly wrap around his wrist. 

“You, you really mean it?” Feng Xin’s eyes are hopeful, and there’s a hint of a smile dancing around the corner of his mouth. 

Mu Qing takes a deep breath. “Yes, yes I do.”

That tiny little smile on Feng Xin’s face breaks into a huge grin, as he pounces at Mu Qing, who was evidently not expecting this to happen, and falls to the floor once Feng Xin’s body hits his own. 

“Oh my god.”

“Feng Xin”

“Holy shit.”

“Feng Xin.”

“You really do like me huh?” Feng Xin is now smiling so hard it hurts, but he doesn’t care. 

“Feng Xin, I swear if you don’t get off me right now I’m going to kill you.” Mu Qing says as he tries to push Feng Xin off of him. “Also, stop being so sappy and emotional,” he adds. 

“Hey, you were being just as sappy.” Feng Xin hauls himself off of Mu Qing and sits on the floor beside him. 

“Pfft, not as much as you were though.” Mu Qing teases as he gets off the floor. 

“Hey, thanks for not getting over me. I’m glad.” Feng Xin smiles. 

“Yeah.” Mu Qing smiles, the smallest of smiles, but it’s still there. “I am too.” 

“And uh, maybe we could go on a date, after breakfast, today? It’s Christmas after all, and we’ve got nothing to do.” Feng Xin says hopefully. 

“Yeah.” Mu Qing turns to him and his smile grows wider. “I’d like that.”

Here's a link to the one I posted on AO3, they're the one and the same: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43821268

[spells-and-liquid-luck]

OMG YOU SERIOUSLY DO TWILIGHT ILYSM

would you do Jasper accidentally turning a seventeen year old y/n in the forest because she cut her knee open or something and he deals with her terrible moods because she lives with the cullens now. her ability is to like 'fall asleep' and be able to wander around like her spirit can. but she doesn't like feeding on the animals cause she thinks its stupid so the family kinda dissaproves

Headache- Newborn x Cullens

Pain— constant pain. I was writhing in it, and groaning in agony. It felt like my body had caught on fire and I was burning alive. I had to endure three days of pure torture to become a monster. I really didn't feel the need to be a vegetarian as the Cullen's liked to put it. Not that I wasn't hungry, the thought of sinking my teeth in an animal kind of grossed me out. Besides, I'm a seventeen year old new born. I'm going to be a teenager forever. If hell was a feeling, I was going to be in it forever.

It was all because of that damn forest. If I hadn't hadn't there, and hadn't been so clumsy then I would still be human. All I remember was that I was supposed to be going hiking. My brown hiking boots were strapped up, and against my better judgment, I strayed away from the trail. The wind was blowing nicely and it made me feel like I could really breathe up there, and I was soaking it all in. I had stepped on so many crunchy leaves and twigs that the ground didn't feel much like ground anymore so I tried to be cautious and step over some but that was when I not so graciously tripped on an uprooted tree. I ended up scraping my knee and I didn't think anything of it. The blood wasn't too bad so I reached for my backpack that was still attached attached me to quickly grab a band-aid, but the wind had blown a bit harder, and vampires are natural hunters so I didn't hear him coming. Next thing I knew, he was drinking my blood as if I were a human juice box.

Lots of people would have resentment for being turned, but I didn't blame Jasper. I knew that he felt guilty enough afterward. He had enough restraint to stop himself from really killing me, but if I can be honest I hate this place. The perfect family. That's what we had to be. Not to be seen for what we truly are, even if they just killed animals like every other hunter in this town. The whole thing was stupid to me, and now my new family hates me because I refuse to kill an animal. Well, Rosalie hates me to be more specific. She thinks I'll draw too much attention to myself and get us us killed by the Vulturi. Carlisle is just a bit disappointed, even though he doesn't show it, it is still obvious that he is. He gives me the choice on what I want to do, but he's hoping that I choose the option that aligns with their morals and lifestyle.

The only cool thing about being a vampire is that we all get our respective abilities. Alice can see the future, Edward can read minds. Mine being me comfort. As everyone known, vampires don't sleep, but us sort of like being in a state of meditation. Being still and quiet without the restfulness of a good night's sleep. I can travel the world like a ghost. Nobody sees me and I can't hurt anyone if there is nobody around to hurt, and I can see the world like the way I used to see. Colorful and cozy. I can feel things like the way I used to feel it, like the way the rain water hit my skin and didn't make me feel like a wet stone statue. I am ghost-like in that state, but I can feel somewhat human when I use my powers.

Today was a day that I planned on using my power to its full extent. Why today? Because it's the Cullen's favorite day. Hunting day. I certainly don't feel like joining them. My plant for today is to be in my room and escape like I always do. Emmett stomped into the blinding white living room. "You're going to have to do this at some point." Emmett stated his eyes looked almost feral as he was mentally getting ready to fight off a mountain lion. I gave him my best death glare, but I'm not as threatening as I would like to be. How could I be threating to someone who had the muscles of a bear? I just couldn't. "You're either going to go on a human blood frenzy or starve yourself to death! Pick the better choice and hunt a damn deer! You're going to get us all killed one day!" Rosalie said as she looked like she would murder me right here. Esme and Carlisle's eyes looked at me in sympathy. They treated me like something was wrong with me and that made me nauseous. If I could be sick, I would. "She can decide for herself what she wants. Let her be, but I'm trusting her to make the best choice." He gave me a stern fatherly expression before turning away and grabbing a navy blue coat off of the coat rack like he needs it. Esme put a loving hand on my shoulder before she left. "I'll try to bring something back for you to eat. I'm not letting you starve or find out that you sunk your teeth into an innocent human." Esme was always motherly to me. She was the closest out of all of them to being human. She had compassion and love for everyone, and she is the only one who had the patience to deal with me; I respect her the most.

As they left, I quickly headed to my room, closing the door behind me and lying down on the couch next to my CD player that Edward had gifted to me. I let my body sink down into the couch and I closed my eyes. One...two...three. I counted to myself and concentrated on my power. Soon enough, the usual feeling overcame me. It felt like I was falling, but I knew it well enough to not be scared of it. Focusing on what I could feel in the state that I was in. Mossy covered trees, brown twigs, rocks, lake water. I could feel and see all of it. I walked through the forest just like I used to and it was beautiful. The trees were covered with moss and rain water just as it was that day. The breeze that ran through the forest left chills on my arms as I soaked it all in. The feeling this gave me felt like a dream yet also felt like I was really human and that's what I loved about my powers. It felt so real. Suddenly, the smell of a human threw me off completely. I walked cautiously to the root of the smell, and to my surprise, it was me. It was me on that day. I tried to warn her but I couldn't because she wouldn't hear me. I watched myself trip and saw as the blood ran down my leg in a small trickle, but there was nobody there to bite me. The smell of ran through my nose and rushed through my senses leaving a horrible feeling of insatiable hunger that ran through me. This wasn't like the other times that I drifted. This was different. This was scary. I tried to hold myself back but the restraint that I needed was almost impossible to achieve at his point. The only way was to try to get back. Closing my eyes and focusing on my world. The Cullen's house. Thr cold atmosphere. The classical music that played throughout the house. Focusing on the last miniscule detail of Carlisle and Esme's faces. I was instantly pulled back, surrounded by everyone. "Are you okay, newbie?" Emmett asked. "You've been out for hours." Edward stated. "We tried shaking you out of it, because your emotions were going crazy. You were scared..and hungry. Like ravenous." Jasper explained. I sat up with slight confusion washing over me from the experience that I just had. The blood-thirst that was still running through my veins still burned my throat. It wasn't hard to see what I wanted as they all could see and feel it. "I told you she was hungry." Rosalie said while rolling her beautiful golden eyes. "Here, drink it. I told you I'd bring you something." Esme handed me a bag ofbblood that she somehow collected for me. I took it immediately with no questions and sipped on it hungrily. A small thank you left my lips as I finished. The feeling of hunger was quickly replaced with a feeling of contentment. "All better now right?" Emmett said with a smirk. "Hopefully your mood swings will subside. I was getting tired of leveling them out." Jasper said. "You should've read her mind. That was a horror movie all on its own." Edward chuckled. "Do you need anything else?" Carlsile asked. I thought about asking him about what I just saw, there was not point in keeping secrets anyway. "I saw myself the day that Jasper accidently turned me, but I was the one standing there instead of him. I felt like I had no control." Carlisle instantly went into doctor mode as he listened intently. "I feel like it could be that you used your gift while you were too thirsty. It sounds like it was just a side effect. You need to be more careful." The parental nagging; it felt endearing. "You'll be okay." Carlisle patted my shoulder. "I think we should all give her some space now. Let's go kids." Esme said as she escorted them all out. "I'll check on you later." She said as she lovingly left a kiss on my forehead. I was taken aback by her motherly gesture, but I didn't hate it. I relaxed back down and reached for the on button on the CD player as I let Bach fill the room.

Tag list:

@flamey-0

[tears-of-boredom]

she just has zero nuance. i talked about menial things like the weather and what we're going to eat? we astablished a connection. i talk about how it would be nice to do different things sometimes? im ready and cabable to do those things as soons as opportunity arrives. i dont fucking get it. im your daughter. you have to fucking know just how little you know about me. maybe i dont talk because everytime I try and explain why she's misrepresenting me, she literally starts to argue about how, actually no she's not, it's just how she sees the situation. and then my viewpoint gets forgotten. even me deciding to make a point and sit on the couch until 12, is now "yeah I talked to her and explained how important this was". no. i was trying to fucking show you how much of a corpse i look because I haven't slep. i was showing to not force me to do shit because i wont fucking comply. i was not answering the useless questions. i didnt have the energy to do so. like I said I wouldnt. also her reminding everyone how good my grades would be if I put some effort into them has become such a fucking trigger by now. give me a genuine compliment for once. oh wait you cant because you dont fucking knoe anything about me. me going to church on two sundays is not me being actually interested in going to church. its me trying to come up with anything to look forward to, and desperately just deciding to try if the christian god suddenly wants to help me. i know that there is no way for you to know that, and that to you it may seems like i specifically like the "going to church" part of it. but there is no way for you to know if your view is correct either. so dont fucking frame it in that way to these adults, who are no doubt going to take everything you say at face value. i prefer the buddy system they are planning over living away from home, because I can't see either one working, but atleast for the other i dont have to pack a lot of shit and be forced to sociliaze. the first time I was away, the staff commented how, at first I was really hanging around the others, but then later holed myself in my room. they are fucking idiots. of course I would try and please the adults, did you not hear the quiet but talented syndrome my mom diagnosed me with. and naturally i get fucking tired of having to humor these adults every day like its a fucking job. my wants did not change over time, I just realised that i actually could refuse on doing activities, and that people wouldnt see me as a bad child because of that.

i fucking hate adults. why do they trust my mom so much. why does my mom think that the therapy is working. why does she think my school absences are related to something so trivial as her not being home as much. and it's just so fucking frustrating how she technically doesnt state the things as facts, but she frames them in that way where it is so fucking implied that what shes saying is the truth and that she knows me and can tell shit by just observing me in an enviroment that has her in it.

i cant fucking see from these weird water droplets in my eyes suddenly.

she takes me being annoyed as like, me being really offended.

i just dont know what im supposed to say or do. I cant bring myself to actually open up to anyone who I'm supposed to, because my mom has made me think that no one will understand my words and will always take them the wrong way.

crying to see you again by miley cyrus is truly something. why me. why the fuck. why. why. why. why. why. why. why. why. why. why. why. why do I have to live.

i just feel like i should do something but because i cant bring myself to do anything it feels like its my fault. my pillow is so fucking wet and im ugly crying in that way where your face twists to extremes and you cant stop it and I fucking hate life.

why do other people get to have a fucking life and I get this. sorry i dont actually mean that good for you if you have a life im just so fucking jealous.

i hate adults. none of them ever seem to realise that children are capable of humoring adults. playing along. theyre just so fucking stupid. and they probably all allistic as well. the ones in my "adults trying to help me" circle i mean.

it was also really painful how mom talks always like getting me to go to school is the top priority. like she genuinely doesnt see the mental health issues. she genuinely thinks I havent daydreamed about killing her. she thinks that me going to school is even on the table. ahe thinks that my mental health has just had severe downs, from which i recoverved from. she thinks i dont have trauma.

im tired. from the lack of sleep and probably all the crying as well.

im sad that I cant bring myself to kms. i dont know id just like to step out. quit the game. stop this bullshit thats happening.

[diamondoidxx]

𝒮𝑜 𝑅𝒶𝓇𝑒

𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫!𝐄𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐱 𝐉𝐚𝐳𝐳 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

genre: fluff? 

fic warnings: nothing except I wrote this with a plus sized black woman in mind!

summary: 𝘈𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘥𝘢𝘺'𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘌𝘳𝘦𝘯 ��𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘷𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘤𝘰-𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘢𝘵 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘊𝘢𝘵𝘧𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘊𝘭𝘶𝘣 – 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘫𝘢𝘻𝘻 𝘣𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘯. 𝘞𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘹𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘔𝘢𝘯𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘮𝘰𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘣𝘭𝘶𝘦𝘴 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵.

notes: yayyy its my first fic? is that what this is? idk but it’s kinda long for my first time. 1.7k words lol. Anyways yea hopefully you enjoy it and let me know what ya think! OR what I should create and also if you want a part 2! Maybe make this a seriessss???? A SONG GOES WITH IT I DID LINK IT! play it for the nice ambiance ya know. this fanart is what made me write this so thank them!

THE old concrete industrial factory shelters the noisy men from the blistering August heat. It was currently 4 in the afternoon on a Friday and the sun was still shining. Most people were ready to go home to their loved ones from work but Eren still had 3 more hours to go. Usually, he was able to grit his teeth and continue the day, but today though, he just wanted to be home already. After arc cutting a piece of Ferrite, arms with veins swelling, Eren steps back and flips up his helmet waving a gloved hand at the dust that came from the material. The perspiration on his face was beginning to drip down his body, he took his arm and wiped the sweat that sat on his eyebrows.

He blew some air out of his mouth and scanned his eyes around the assembly. Some of the men were chatting amongst themselves whilst having a water break with paper cups in hand, meanwhile, others were busying themselves with the work in front of them making sure they got every cent that they could earn. Cents. That's what Eren was working for, specifically $0.75 an hour. He rolls his shoulders already feeling tense, wanting to just take a shower and lay down to do it all over again tomorrow. He glances to the outside of the garage like opening of the factory. The cars whizzed by in the bustling city. Eren thinks he’ll never get used to the sound, being fond of the silent and freeing countryside. He pulls out his hand from the heavy-duty welding gloves and wipes his wet hand on the beat-up and previously dirtied wife beater. He shuffles his tan overalls that are stung lowly on his hips and flips his helmet back on his face to continue working.

It was around 7:30 in the evening when he got off. The sun finally letting the earth cool down from the assault today. Duffle bag in hand, Eren steps away from the establishment and begins to walk to the bus stop ready to sit on the trolley for 40 minutes out of town. His hair was tied in a bun with some flyaways surrounding his scalp and a few tired line indents on his forehead. The overalls that were once on his waist now hug him to keep warm for the night breeze.

“Hey Yeager!” a voice calls out. Eren turns around and sees Jean, Connie, and Armin. The three men were huddled as if they were whispering before calling out to him. Eren raised an eyebrow as if to ask them what they wanted. Eren didn’t speak to anyone at work. The only conversations that he would have with his colleagues would be “when’s lunch being called” or “did they have a specific tool he needed.” So watching these three yell out to him was unusual.

Jean and Connie push Armins' shoulder to talk. The blonde-headed man clears his throat, “UHm..did you..um did you wanna come down to The Catfish Club with us?” pointing behind his shoulder somewhere.

The Catfish Club? Eren never heard such a thing before. Is that a restaurant? He looks between them with a deadpan expression.

“No,” Eren states and begins to walk the way to the bus stop.

“OH COME ON, It was hot today ain’t ya wanting a nice tail’ and some jazz!” Connie yells at him. Eren pauses. A bar? Why would he want to go to a bar with these idiots to listen to some jazz with these bozos? Eren faces them.

Connie continues, “It's great! The liquor is strong and the music is live! I got a buddy of mine who will shuttle us all home when we wanna leave!” excitement comes from his words. Eren thinks for a moment rubbing his jaw. He could use a Manhattan, he hasn't had one of them in a long time. He should treat himself, just going home and spending it with his cat Carla wouldn't be that amusing on this nice Friday night.

Eren sighs and shrugs. “Sure.” The boys have grins on their faces and Connie wraps an arm around Erens shoulder as he walks up to them.

The walk to the club wasn't that far from their work. About 15 mins or so. The place looked packed and bustling. Men and women flow through the black double wooden doors. The building was a bright pale red with a sign in the dark window shining THE CATFISH CLUB in illuminating blue lights with a catfish wearing a top hat playing the cello. The boys walk up to the door and open it. The place was bigger on the inside than you would think. The sounds of horns, clarinet, sax, and strings bounced through Erens ears. There was everyone EVERYWHERE. The bar, the dance floor, the booths, and tables. It was a squeeze. The walls were a velvety green color with black and white pictures hanging. A stage was in the middle back of the club, slightly raised – having the ability to easily step on it. Jean and Connie barrel through the crowd with Armin and Eren on their behinds. They sit at a booth fairly close to the stage.

“Isn’t this amazing? God, I haven't been here in a while,” Jean says while they are settling in the rubber seats. Connie and Armin make conversation as Eren still wanders his eyes around. He brings his attention to the stage as a band starts setting up. His eyes are directly on the woman with the white sparkly ball gown that goes just a bit below her knee caps. The straps came together behind her neck showcasing a bit of cleavage. She had on white pumps with a diamond on the point. Satin white gloves came just above her elbows. Eren couldn’t see her face as people were passing by. As he's moving his head to find her, Armin nudges him to look at him.

“What did you want to drink Eren?” he asks. Eren just now notices a waiter by their table. He looks back at the woman and turns to the waiter. He nods while saying. “Just a Manhattan please.” The waiter gets the rest of the guys' drink orders and Eren's eyes fall back to the captivating singer.

Her hair is short and curled like it's been in rollers, slightly parted with a white flower hair clip. Her earrings twinkle under the lights and her smile is brighter than anything he’d ever seen. She was talking to the host of the club pointing at the band behind her and nodding when he spoke back to her. He pats her on the back lightly and goes up to the mic.

The waiter sets Jean, Connie, Armin, and Erens' drinks down as the host says, “How's everybody doing tonight!?” The crowd whoops and hollers, Connie and Jean joining in with them. Eren takes a sip of his beverage enjoying the burn that it leaves behind, never taking his eyes off of her.

The host laughs and claps his hands together, “I see! Hey now – we got a new upcoming singer here with us tonight, it is her First. Ever. Gig! Let’s all welcome…Y/N!” He throws his arms to her as she smiles and waves shyly at the audience that gives her some claps and whistles. Eren sets down his drink and claps along.

She steps up to the mic fixing it to her height while looking back at the band anxiously. One of the members gives her a thumbs up and a wink. She turns back and breathes.

(Play song)

It felt like the whole town stopped to hear her. Eren couldn’t help but feel entranced. Her voice was heavenly, delicate, alluring…he couldn't find the words but what he knew was that he was in love. He felt his jaw slack a bit as he watched her sing. The way her lips moved and the way she held the mic stand. Y/N had no idea the effects she had on him. His chest was beating as if he ran 3 miles and his legs were stuck as if he had seen the boogie man. Her eyes are low and move across the sea of people, meeting emerald green ones. She swings her hips back and forth to the beat, smiling as she emphasizes the lyrics escape her.

Eren held her stare, sipping more of his drink, tapping his foot to the song. The lines she belt out felt as if she was speaking to him. That the words were only for him. She took the mic off the stand and began to waltz around the stage, stopping and doing gestures or poses. She stepped down from the stage and danced a little, going around the club. She smiled and smirked at the patrons. Y/N wanted to find the person who was behind the piercing eyes she was stunned internally by. She looks over at a table full of welders and strides toward them, elegantly placing her hand on a dark-haired man's shoulder. Y/N feels warm when he looks up at her from his seat. This was the man who she was searching for. His lips lift in a smile, almost like he's trying to hide it. Y/N slides her hand from his shoulder down to his hand and stretches it to her, holding it for a second staring at him in his eyes. She squeezes his hand and lets go of it. She walks back up the stage not forgetting to look behind her shoulder to see him looking at his hand and back at her. Y/N stops on the stage and closes out the song.

The club was in an uproar as she quietly curtsied. Eren stands up and whistles, Jean, Connie, and Armin following him. She exits the stage after pressing her hands to her chest and thanking everyone. She tries to get through the crowd as they continue to praise her for her singing, passing Eren just in time for him to grab her wrist to stop her.

She staggers at the interruption and turns her head to see who halt her. Y/N's face heats up as Eren looks at her. She looks down at his hand holding onto her and he looks at it after her, blushing he quickly let go of her, “Sorry, I just wanted to say you were incredible up there,” Eren says.

Y/Ns eyebrows lift in a delightful surprise, “Oh! Uh, thank you…..?”

Eren reaches out his hand. “Eren.” Y/N takes it and shakes it. “Thank you, Eren. It's nice to meet you.”

Eren smirks, “Nice to meet you too Y/N.”

Again I hope you enjoyed reading, sorry if it’s like so descriptive I just want y'all to imagine what I'm imagining. Idk if this fluff really but it does make me gooey inside like when I do read fluff so

[cynettic]

Hey! Can I request the "You wear their shirt that's too big for you the morning after a steamy night "but with childe, kaeya ,albedo and zhongli! Thank you

Reader x Genshin NSFW

Summary - You wear their oversized shirt after a steamy night.

Pairings - Fem!Reader x Childe / Zhongli / Kaeya

Warnings - NSFW so no minors plsss

A/N - Someone else asked for Albedo, so I’ll do that one soon! Hope you liked these ones though :) They’re a bit more descriptive than the last ones I did tho- so be careful if you’re not into that.

Childe

Often busy, the one instance where he has a bit of time before work passes by, and you walk out in his large shirt after a steamy night.

At this time in the morning, he’s sipping his morning coffee, eyeing the newspaper or whatever’s on the table.

That all changes when you walk in.

Of course he notices, and resting his elbow on the couch arm, he simply stares. Doesn’t attempt to hide his flirtatious smile and just waits till you notice his very persisting gaze.

When you turn to him, his eyes give you the sensation you might as well be bare naked.

“When did I ever say you could wear my shirt?”

He says this teasingly ofc, you wearing his shirt is the hottest thing he could’ve seen all day. Makes him very happy.

But you deciding to tease him right back, you pout, tugging at the hem of it. “You dont want me to wear it?” He tries to protest and say it was a joke and not to take it personal, but before he can even start, you pull the shirt off.

You have nothing under the shirt.

Nothing.

Flinging the shirt back into his lap, you turn back to the bedroom. “There you go, I’ll find something else to wear.” You make sure to strut, hips swaying from side to side as you touch the doorframe.

You don’t make it to the bedroom.

Childe’s hand glides down your pelvis, wrapping around your waist as the other pulls your hair back so he can give you a kiss on the neck. You’ve captured his full attention, and even though he has work soon, your antics stirred him up.

God… now all he wants to see is you ‘begging’ for him.

Childe has the awful tendency to turn almost everything into a competition, and you struck a nerve. He will waste no time in letting you know who is in control of who.

He pins your arms above your head, holding your wrists in one hand with ease. But holding you so tightly up, your back is arched, posture straight and breasts perked outwards with the awkward position.

“That was awfully bold of you Y/n~”

His other hand cups your breast, molding it in his hand. Index finger pressing down on your nipple while the rest of his hand rubs your tits in a down and up motion. You sink into the feeling, a content sigh leaving your lips as you lean into his touch.

Still sore from yesterday, Childe certainly wasnt gentle or merciful, and this contact is softly blissful compared to yesterday.

Till he pinches your little nipple in his hand, twisting it slowly and hearing you whine in annoyance.

Instead of moving onto the next breast, his hand moves down, gloves brushing against your stomach and your hips. Until its rested on your inner thighs, and he’s just caressing and stroking the skin of your thigh.

His black gloves are everything.

You unconsciously press your legs together, mewling at the sensation so close to your heat. You try to lean further into his hand so he can rub against your throbbing core, but his hand capturing your wrists keeps you firm, not letting you move an inch.

Childe moves teasingly slow.

His gloved finger rubs against your clit ever so softly, pressing deeper against it and then pulling away completely.

“C-Childe…”

“Hmm? Speak up Y/n.”

He adds a second finger, but continues only to rub your pussy. A torturous sensation that makes you buck your hips in desperation to feel his fingers sliding in.

“Childe… please.”

You speak louder this time, and he rubs harder.

“Please what? You’ve got to be more specific Y/n.”

He loves the way he has complete and utter control over you, your reactions, the noises and expressions you make. That even if you’d had the audacity to expose yourself and strut away, he still had control. That in this battle, he’d won.

“Stick your fingers into me,” you groaned out, louder than the previous sentence. “Please- please…”

His gloved finger poked at the tip of your needy hole, rubbing around the edge just until your eyes watered with frustration, and you tried to grind against the sensation. Again unable to with his hold on your wrists.

“P-please!”

It was only when you were begging that he shoved his finger in ruthlessly, pushing in and out. Your legs rubbed together, thighs pressing tightly around his hand as he added a second finger, and you were left gasping and moaning out his name.

When he added a third finger, your knees were trembling and it was only his grip on your wrists and the hand buried in your pussy that kept you standing. He leaned into your neck, his breath fanning your ear when he asked you who you belonged to.

“Y-you…” you breathlessly answered, coming close to your climax with every thrust of his gloved fingers. Pumping up into that G spot so hard that it left you crying out.

And then he pulled out his fingers, loosening the grip on your wrists.

“Good.”

Trembling and writhing just for him, he’d leave you bare and needy. Not letting you climax with him until he came back home from work.

Punishment for trying to tempt him earlier.

He licked your juices from his gloves, sucking on them and lapping them with his tongue. Just for you of course, laying on the ground whining and wet, so close to your climax yet stopped at the heat of the moment.

With a big wide grin, he waves his hand in a goodbye, grabbing his bag from the corner of the room before heading to the door. Fulfilled, watching you beg for him and shamelessly admit that you were his was the perfect start to his morning, and of course your revenge for teasing him earlier.

“See you after work Y/n~!” And with a wink he’s off.

Zhongli

For some reason, after a steamy night with Zhongli, the morning left you sensitive.

Not only physically, but especially mentally. To a point where getting up with the aching throb of your thighs was just enough to send you over the edge and sobbing.

You head to the kitchen, Zhongli’s shirt draped over your figure. He’s of course sitting in his rocking chair, reading glasses on as he scans something that he’s reading. Probably one of Liyue’s historical books.

You heat up some pancakes, planning on making the two of you a nice breakfast to start the day off. But grabbing the maple syrup, after opening the lid and stepping forward to spread it on the pancakes, your foot slid on something slippery on the floor, and you’re sent tumbling back.

Zhongli is leaning over you in seconds.

But the fall isnt the issue, and with the maple syrup in your hand, the bottle had tipped into the inside of Zhongli’s shirt, the one you were wearing, dripping into his shirt and onto your body. You’d managed to set it straight, but not after maple syrup was sent streaming down your chest and down your stomach.

“Im sorry…”

Tears gather at your eyes, and you try to wipe them away before Zhongli can see. Nothing was going right today, and you just wanted a distraction, something to keep your mind off of your emotional state.

“Itrs alright dear… would you like me to prepare a bath for you?” Zhongli is so soft and kind as he offers his help, thumb stroking your cheek as he stares into your eyes.

You dont want a bath.

Even with maple syrup everywhere on your body, sticky, you don’t want to leave the floor. A sob breaks past your lips, and you shake your head. “No… I just want it to go away…” your hands are shaking, and you slowly remove Zhongli’s shirt from your body, the maple syrup clinging to your form.

His eyes trail over the gooey mess you seem to be in, and he takes his shirt back, unsure of what to do. As the geo archon, theres not much he can do about the maple syrup, and his insides twist when hearing you sob.

He presses a kiss to your forehead and slowly trails it to your lips, satisfied when it seems to calm you down. You push him closer, until his head is on the same level of your chest, and the maple syrup dripping down your breasts.

Without thinking, he goes to lick it, the sweet taste of maple syrup in his mouth.

He backs away instantly, afraid that the action only saddened you further. But it was the opposite, and you stared at him wide eyed, tears threatening to spill. With a sniff, you wiped the tears away again, “That… didnt feel bad.” Was all you said.

Zhongli wasnt sure what to make of it, and leaning closer, he only licked the sticky liquid off your cleavage again, listening to the intake of breathing. When he glanced up, you were staring straight at him.

“It felt… nice.”

You were no longer crying, which meant that to Zhongli, he’d done something right. He didnt stop licking there, and dedicating his tongue to wiping every spot of maple syrup on your body, the two of you stayed draped there for a while.

His mouth completely engulfed your breast, tongue swirling around the lengh of it as he sucked in the sticky liquid. Your breathing grew erratic, but every time he’d look up to ask you if you were alright, you’d simply say that it was fine.

Zhongli began to realize that you were really turned on by the time he reached your core, and the maple syrup wasnt the only liquid drenched there. He didnt waste any time in pressing his head into your thighs, knowing from experience that you liked it. And that instead of pain, his tongue gave you pleasure.

So thats what he did, sucking, nipping, and licking every part of your cunt until you were shaking, and your inner thighs were tight against his head.

He would’ve pulled back, but no matter how much he licked your pussy, the sweet taste still coated his tongue everytime, meaning that there was still some maple syrup. It was until his tongue dug into your needy hole that he realized where the sweet taste was coming from.

It only motivated him to get rid of it.

He’d seen your tears, seen how shamed and embarrassed you were to have the sticky liquid all over you. He knew he couldnt get rid of it with his tongue, but if it made you feel better enough to take a bath after, it was worth it.

His hands grabbed the balls of your ass, slowly massaging them against his fingers before using them to thrust his tongue deeper into your wet cunt. Pushing your ass and hips with his large hands and thrusting them towards his head in rhythm with the lapping of his tongue sent you on overdrive.

Your legs were shaking, and instead of gasps, little mewls of pleasure sputtered out of your mouth. Hands tangled in his hair, you felt your eyes roll to the back of your head.

It felt like orgasm after orgasm, Zhongli still pressing his face against your pussy and licking every sweet spot. But there was always more, and you were going numb by the time he pulled away, your body sore and writhing after the intense feeling of pleasure.

“Theres too much,” Zhongli said softly, wiping the sides of his mouth as he stared at your fatigued face. “I could keep going if you’d like-? “

Your mood instantly boosted up, and with a chuckle at the poor archons innocent stare, you shrugged. “A-alright, a little bit more I guess…” Even as your core felt numb and your thighs still shook at how tightly you’d been clenching them around Zhongli’s head, the sensation was too good.

With a small smirk, Zhongli dug back down, hands groping your ass again as he sunk into the sensation of your pussy.

Kaeya

You woke up horny.

By the time you walked out of the bedroom with Kaeya’s shirt on, your intentions were very clear. Your boyfriend was sitting on the couch, reading over something that looked like a report for work. You didnt give him the time to think as you plopped down on his lap.

Directly facing him, he seemed surprised as you wore his shirt, sliding in closer to him inch by inch until you could feel the firmness of his dick against you. It was then that he chuckled, realizing what you were getting at.

“Oh? My my Y/n, so daring~”

He only leaned back, setting the report down and putting his hands against the couch to sit back and watch you.

“Now now, dont feel deterred, I want to see you take charge for a change.”

And so you tried.

Grinding your core against his throbbing member, he winced, the ever so calm smirk never leaving his face. So he simply watched, watched as you slowly took his shirt off your body, revealing the form he loved so much. It took all his control not to take you by the arm and carry you to the bed, a second round after last night.

But watching you struggle was oh so much better.

You fumbled with his jean buttons, hands trembling as you slowly slid them down his legs to reveal his giant member. You always had trouble fitting him in, but he always took control and made sure you were ready for him before he thrust into you.

Sliding down his boxers, you gulped, thighs trembling as you positioned his dick above your pussy.

Kaeya only chuckled as you slowly sank down into him, only taking in the tip of him before you whimpered. Your hands came to clench around the buttons of his vest, breaths coming ragged as you tried your best to lower deeper into him.

“Having trouble?”

You wanted to wipe that arrogant look off his face, fill him with pleasure and send him into the same ecstasy youd felt last night. So that he couldnt tease you about it, so that he could look at you evenly and admit that you were just as good as it as he was.

But god he was too big…

You could barely lower yourself any deeper, only reaching quarter way before the your legs shook and your inner thighs squeezed with need. But he was too much, and every little movement sent you into a fit of squeaks and whimpers.

Kaeya’s hands groped your ass, and with a sigh he slowly began to tug you further down. Slow, achingly painfully slow. You grabbed at his wrists, begging him to stop.

“Kaeya… it hurts…” you nearly sobbed, tears threatening to spilled onto your cheeks.

“Alright, I’ll leave it up to you then.”

He removed his hands, but you were now halfway through and pulling out would be just as excruciating as fully embracing him. You were stuck, thighs shaking so badly you had no option but to sink lower, legs threatening to give out on you from the sheer effort.

You mewed and whined when you couldnt stop the slow motion of your cunt taking in Kaeya’s dick. And no matter how you tried to resist and keep your thighs from taking any more of him, they always collapsed and you were back to slowly leaning deeper into him.

Finally, when you’d sank to the bottom and had fully engulfed his dick, your face was tear stained, sniffles escaping your lips. But Kaeya didnt move, staying still and refusing to help you. It took everything you had to slide up his length and collapse back on him.

Up and down, up and down, the process was torturous but you could feel the pleasure building up in your chest everytime you took him in. Even Kaeya started to enjoy it as your pace quickened, your breasts bouncing up everytime you fell down back into him.

“Kaeya…” you whimpered through lidded lashes as your hands gripped his chest. “K-Kaeya…”

He came at the same time you did, and you were left sitting on his cock more tired than before. Inner thighs trembling, your walls clenched around him. Holding back a moan, you tried to lift yourself off of him, finding yourself unable to do so.

“K-Kaeya…”

With a chuckle, he finally leaned forward. His hands gripped the soft flesh of your hips, and rubbing the swollen bruises of your inner thighs, he lifted you up, only to send you back down into him.

“My turn Y/n~”

[luimagines]

Hey it’s the same comfort anon! I really loved what did with the prompt!

If you don’t mind I have another rq 👉👈

RQ: You help them out during an embarrassing situation.

Masterlist

Comfort Anon! My first requester! I’m so glad you enjoyed it. I’m glad you think I did it justice!

I absolutely do not mind that you have another request!

I think I’m going to keep all of them in the same post this time around.

Set platonically and within the group since there wasn’t any specification.

You know the drill! Scenario under the cut!

Twilight

“Wolfie...” You try to fight the grin on your face and fail. “What are you doing?”

Said wolf pauses and stares at you thus beginning an impromptu staring contest.

You had been walking away from the camp to relieve yourself when you spotted familiar looking fur running around. It had sparked your interest so you ventured closer as quietly as you could.

When you reach your furry friend, you feel your face split into a large grin.

Wolfie was running in circles and rolling around the dirt trying to catch his tail.

It naturally amuses you greatly and you decided to watch for a little moment longer before Wolfie had actually managed to catch his tail and had begun chewing on it with fervor.

Realistically, you knew it probably itched and the poor thing was just trying to scratch it in the best way he could.

But it was still so adorably cute!

You ask your question, breaking the moment and try to hide your amusement for the sake of the creatures pride.

You can see the moment when Wolfie sees you. His whole body goes still and he stops chewing himself completely. Wolfie slowly lets his tail out of his mouth, making a small thump against the ground, while never breaking eye contact and waits.

You’re not sure for what but the way he’s staring at you makes you think you weren’t supposed to see what you saw. He looks the equivalent of getting your hand caught in the cookie jar and is trying to see how much trouble he’s going to get in.

It’s makes the whole thing infinitely funnier.

Your giggles escape and the animal begins to lower his head to the ground, ears back and flattened.

You’d dare say he looks embarrassed.

It softens your heart to see Wolfie in such a state so you try to rein in one final snort, fail, and begin to leave. “I’ll... leave you to it, Wolfie. I gotta pee. Have fun with what you’re over there.”

With your back turned, Wolfie gives out a pitiful whine that leaves you snickering until you find a more private spot.

Apparently, this one’s taken. 

Wild

“Wild...” You say, looking upward until your neck hurts. “How do you manage these things? I swear it’s only you who gets into this kind of stuff.”

“I just want to make eggs for breakfast!” He cries in defense. “I’m sorry for trying to do something nice for all of you!”

“Oh no, I get that. It’s this that worries me.” You sigh and try to get step back and assess the situation. Looking up is a little easier with and you’re able to see a better plan of action.

In theory anyway.

Wild, as mentioned, was about to make breakfast and had thus spotted eggs in  a nearby tree. Naturally he wanted to go collect them and feed his friends but there’s one thing he didn’t account on. The mother returned.

That being said, he freaked out enough that he dropped the sheikah slate, nearly fell out of the tree and in the ruckus had also scared away the mother.

He kept the eggs though.

However, when the word nearly is mentioned it’s meant to bring point that he didn’t actually fall out of tree. ...But he still might.

Why?

Because the only reason he didn’t hit the ground head first is because his foot got caught in one of the branches.

So he’s hanging upside down by his ankle and can’t access his tools to even attempt to get out.

This is where you, dear reader, come in.

Wild was actually far enough away and covered by enough foliage that the others haven’t noticed him in this precarious situation. You though, were heading to the creak nearby to wash your face and begin your morning routine.

Wild then yelled just loud enough to catch your attention and had asked for your assistance.

“Are you sure I can’t just get Twilight? Or Time?” You ask him. “I’m sure that one of them can just shake the tree and you’ll be free.”

“NO! Do not! Just-!” He flails around a bit, the branch creaking in protest but doesn’t  budge from the spot. “I get into a lot of stuff but neither of them will ever let me live this down.”

“What about Warrior then? Or Legend? He might have a tool of something to get you out-”

“No one else can know! Why can’t you just help me?” Wild begs.

“I have to say I’m little over my head here.” You admit. “Or rather, you’re a little over my head.”

“Very funny.”

“I think I have an idea but you have to catch yourself.” You grin and begin to move away.

“Just make it quick. All the blood is flowing to my head.”

You jog back to camp and take out your sword. A few more familiar faces are awake now and waiting for their food. 

“Hey,” Wind greets you with a tired smile and a yawn. “Where’s Wild?”

“He’s a little hung up at the moment.” You smile. “I just gotta go help him for a second and he’ll be back.”

Wind takes the answer for what it is, too tired to read too much into it and nods.

You sprint back and grin wildly. “Try to stay out of my way ok?”

“You couldn’t think of any other solution?” Wild nearly whines.

“This is the quickest way. You said make it quick.” You take a breath and run forward. With your momentum to run what you can up the tree and jump. With the added height to turn to where Wild is and swing in his foot’s direction.

With speed and accuracy on your part, you slice the branch that’s been holding him back and the two of you fall to the ground.

Wild dips into a roll and somehow manages to expertly swipe the slate off of the ground as he passes it. You do a similar motion but angle yourself to not come into contact with your blade.

Together you spot each other and grin, small laughs exiting your mouths as you get up.

“Thanks for that.” Wild pats himself off and turns on his heel. “I gotta get breakfast started but I’ll come get you when it’s done, ok?”

You nod and begin to head toward the creek once more, willing to play as if this never happened.

You decide on the way to not tell Wild that the branch is still stuck on his boot though. 

Time

Everyone was in Wild’s house for the day, chilling while they could, since there was little to no activity.

Time had actually retired momentarily to take a nap on Wild’s bed for the afternoon.

It was quiet.

Because the group was afraid to wake up the grumpiest member of the group.

So naturally you wanted to take advantage of the peace and brought your book and sat on the stairs while the boys took over the table and floor.

After a hot minute, you looked up to see that half of the group was gone, haven’t left to do something more chaotic and grinned to yourself.

Behind you the wood of the house creaked under applied pressure. You turned around to look at the cause and saw that Time had woken up from his nap. His eyes were closed and he was mid-yawn as he traveled down the stairs.

You got up from your spot and traveled a few steps to let him pass, but that didn’t happen.

Time hadn’t opened his eye yet and had mis-stepped.

His mistake cost him his pride as he fell down the stairs all the way down to the floor.

“Don’t break a hip old man!” Warrior called out in a laughing voice.

You threw your book onto the table and went to help Time up. “Are you ok?”

“Ow.” He deadpanned and grabbed the railing for good measure. “On top of that, I think I left my shoes up by the bed.”

“I’ll get them” You squeaked around him and dashed up the stairs. In your enthusiasm you over stepped one of the steps and fell up the stairs.

You paused in shame and shock while Warrior lost his battle and started laughing hysterically.

Swallowing the last of your dignity, you dash up the remaining steps and help your friend.

You came back down with an attempt to hold your head up high and held out Time’s shoes out to him. “I think these are yours.”

There was a small smile on his tired face. “Thank you. Are you ok?”

“Yes.” You nod. “I’m fine. Nothing happened. No one saw anything.”

Time snorted and took them from you. “Of course.”

Warrior

It’s was absolutely pouring.

Everyone was wet and there was no shelter in sight. It was dark and loud and everyone still had to continue forward.

No one was happy and everyone was silently fuming at the unideal circumstances.

You were walking next to Warrior, not making eye contact with anyone and you had to stop from commenting that he looked like a drowned rat.

His scarf has no doubt doubled in weight with all the water its absorbed and Warrior kept having to adjust it. It was sagging off of his shoulders and he kept having to adjust it or else it risked falling into the muddied ground.

As time passed Warrior had to continually fix it, and adjust it and he was growing exponentially frustrated with the prospect and was getting fed up with it.

You watched in growing amusement and restrained from offering your help because you were certain that he would snap at you.

In one final moment of baled up frustrations, he threw the scarf in one more lap around his neck and... well... he overjudged the strength needed and it swung all the way around just to smack him right back in his face.

Oh but it didn’t end there.

In his moment of blindness, he mis-stepped and tripped.

He hit the ground on his knees first but kept going, twisting to his side, just missing slamming his face into the mud as well.

You just stop in your tracks and tried your hardest to not laugh.

With hesitant steps, you walked over to Warrior who slowly started to get up.

His entire side was just brown. And Warrior... didn’t bother with showing the emotion on his face.

Just a neutral face of displeasure.

You quickly, helped him to his feet and and began cupping your hands to throw the collected rain water onto him and wipe off the mud.

It’s not helping.

“Not. One. Word.” Warrior takes a deep breath and begins to help you clean himself off.

“Yes, Captain.” You grin and take his hand. “You want me to take the blame? Say I pushed you down or something.”

“It’s fine.” Warrior bites the words as he says them. 

You pass a creek.

With the idea in your head, you shove Warrior hard and he goes right into the water like you wanted him to.

“Excuse me!” He screeches as his head bobs above the water.

The mud is washed off as least.

“You’re clean again! No one will know!”

Warrior is not amused.

You grin. “It’s not like you got any wetter.”

“...Why are you like this?”

“I’ll take my thanks in monetary compensation.”

Hyrule

“Hyrule.” You gasp. “Oh no. Oh boy. Don’t go back yet. Hold on. Don’t leave. Stay here.”

He pauses and does what you say, although confusedly. “Ok? Why?” 

“There’s a rip in your pants. Huge. I can see your whole-” 

“WHAT?” Hyrule grips the fabric and finally catches wind of the tear. It’s long and goes down the side of his leg but it’s... pretty revealing.

“I’ve got some sewing stuff in my pack.” You say dropping your equipment and dashing as quickly as you could. “I can sew it up. No one will know the difference.”

“...I can never show my face again.”

You roll your eyes and make the quick trip. There’s a small part in the reptilian part of your brain that calls to make it a quick mission. Stealth, silence and shadows are your friends and you make it back to camp, grab your supplies and make a break for it without tripping anyone else’s hand.

When you return to Hyrule, he’s sat down a nearby rock and inspecting what he can of the rip.

“I have no idea how you managed this,” you say when you get close to him again. “But I’ve managed to get there and back with no one knowing. I will, however, need you to take off your pants.”

Hyrule flushes bright red instantly.

“...Do I have to?”

“Unless you’re ok with my face being right next to your-”

“No, no, I’ll do it, I’ll do it.” Hyrule gulps and strips.

“I’m glad you agreed because I, for one, was not ok with that.” You hold your hand out and take the pants from him. “At least your tunic is long.”

“This is humiliating.” Hyrule mutters and sit down on the ground instead of the rock and hugs his legs close.

“Why on earth do you think I stopped you? Someone had to save you from the the ridicule of the others. Like don’t get me wrong, we all like you but there’s no survivors, no mercy, and no alliances when it comes to roasts.” You sat down in front of him and began to sew up the tear. “Any idea how this happened?”

“I think it got caught on a bush?” He rests his head on his knees and avoids eye contact. “I suppose I should thank you.”

“A bush?” You put it down and and stare at him. “A bush?”

He doesn’t reply.

“Hyrule if your clothes are weak enough to rip this badly on a bush then we need to get you knew clothes.” You finish and return to your task of fixing his pants. “We can get Legend and Wild and figure something out. Wild has enough clothes to spare and Legend knows good quality when he sees it. I’ll pay for your new clothes next town we invade, ok?”

“I can’t believe this happened.” He says instead.

“Give me ten minutes and you can at least put your pants back on.”

Legend

They were having a race.

The boys were so bored that they were having a race.

It was between Legend, Wild, Wind, Hyrule and Twilight.

Sky refused to run, Time was content with just watching and Warrior had a bet going so he had money on who the winner would be.

You were the judge and had placed yourself at the end of the strip with a small cloth for a flag and got in position. It was anything goes. Items, sabotage, dirty plays- anything.

Twilight was actually competing on Epona.

“Ready?” You call with a grin. “Get set! GO!”

You hear them take off but there’s a blast of wind next to you.

It’s so close to you that it takes you by surprise so you scream in shock but it ends in a thunk against the tree behind you.

There’s a groan and you turn to see the winner.

Twilight is next and he stops before he could run you over. “Are you kidding me? What the heck did he do? How did he do that?”

Legend is sitting in front of the tree and rubbing his head.

He wins at least.

The others make it within the next minute and they groan and whine but they leave without looking at the winner.

You grin and skip over to him, placing your hand on his shoulder when you get there. “Congrats, Mr. Hero. It looks like you were the- oh my god.”

You kneel next to him and tilts his face towards yours.

He’s bleeding from the face, a cut on his eye and a bloody nose.

“Hey, so you see this tree here?” He spits and it’s more blood.

“Yeah?”

“I didn’t.” He hisses and goes to wipe with his sleeve but you stop him.

“Oh boy. Hold on.” You gently take the cloth flag that you have and wipe his face, getting him to pinch his nose as you wipe his cut.

It’s thankfully not deep and not bleeding profusely. With a little inspiration, you take out your bag, your magically enchanted pocket and pull out a potion.

Legend is quick to refuse but you shake your head and splash a little on his face. The magic hits the cuts and is absorbed in his skin.

“Hey!” He splutters.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did you want to explain to Warrior why your face is bleeding?” You smirk and begin cleaning the rest of the blood of him.

Legend pouts and looks away, letting you work.

“I guess not.”

“I thought so.”

Sky

“Oh... that is... not ideal...” You hear Sky say.

With your interest piqued, you turned your head to look at him and what was bothering him.

“Sky, what did you do?”

It... was interesting. Somehow Sky had managed to get his whip stuck in a tree. Not just caught between two branches, no that would have been too easy to pull out. It had somehow wrapped around the branch, at least three times and was too tall for anyone in the group to get out unless they had somehow managed to climb the tree.

The tree itself was also inclined to be easy to climb. You were quick to see that only The Champion could probably scale it but he wasn’t here at the moment. 

Twilight kidnapped him to go fishing.

“...How?” You ask and make your way over to him. “How did you do this?”

He glances at you with wide eyes and a bit lip. ”Help?”

“Ho boy...” You take a breath and get up. “This.... I have one solution.”

“Ok?”

“How good is your aim?” You glance up at the problem again. “Scratch that, how good is your throwing arm?”

“Pretty good I like to think.” He admits. 

“Ok, throw it over the branch but in the opposite direction. We have to undo the loops first.”

“We? Sounds like it’s just me.” Sky steps closer to the tree and prepares to throw the handle over the branch.

“Well there’s not exactly place for me to step in now, is there?” You put your hands on your hips and smirk.

It goes over one loop just fine.

It still doesn’t budge.

Sky throws it again, misses, tries again and makes it.

It’s only one loop over the branch but it still won’t move. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Sky growls and throws it into the air in frustration.

“Ok, hold on, if it just need one more throw-”

He made it loose in the process but neither of you were paying attention. It had sung for a minute, budged and had swung all the way back to to you both coming off of the branch in the process. The inertia was still in motion and it had managed to hit Sky directly in the face while you were talking.

Luckily, it wasn’t that strong of a hit.

“Oh hey!” You grin and try not to laugh. “It’s out!”

“Let’s never speak of this.”

“Come on, it’s funny.”

“Ever.”

Four

“Wild, do you have any towels I can dry my hands off with?” Four asks from behind you.

You were all in Wild’s house once more and currently getting ready for dinner.

“Yeah, top shelf.” Wild replies without looking up from the pot.

You glance back as well to see where Wild would have been thinking about.

Yup, you think, that’s the top shelf alright.

Four is stuck staring at the height and begins to slowly look around.

You get an idea of where he’s going with this and power walk to his side. Your intuition is proven correct when he then attempts to climb Wild’s house and furniture just to get it.

His hands are also still wet, mind you.

You can see his white knuckled grip as he tries to fight the lack of traction and decide to help him out.

“I got it!” He says, when you nudge him aside.

“You don’t.” You reply and copy his movements to reach a singular towel. You’re back down in a split second but the bounty in within your grasp.

“It’s not like you can reach it either!”

“Still took me less time and significantly less climbing to get it.” You toss the towel in his face with a grin. “I doubt you even had good grip either. I thought you were going to fall and crack your head open on the floor.”

“Please don’t fall in my house and crack your head on the floor.” Wild speaks up. “Blood is so hard to clean up.”

“Know from experience?”

“Don’t tell Twilight.”

“Get lower shelves Wild Child.” Four dries his hands and tosses the troublesome cloth to Wild.

He catches it with blinking and shoves it into his apron. “I’ll take your criticism to the manager and see what we can do.”

“Manager? This is your house! You’re the manager!”

“So? I said what I said!”

“You boys done play fighting or are we going to have to wait to eat?” You ask.

...

“I’d like to eat now please.”

“On it.”

Wind

It was your turn on watch and there was nothing to do.

Not that you were asking for trouble but it would have been nice to at least be able to do patrol or something.

But nooooo... For safety reasons, i.e. the storm just beyond your coverings, everyone was supposed to stay within the camp at all times.

You didn’t disagree with it so to speak. It was more of a mild inconvenience.

That was until Wind got up with whispered...but still loud, curses.

You stood up and tip toed your away around the half hazardly tossed limbs of your comrades. “Everything ok Wind?”

He jumps and grabs the blankets around himself, folding them, bunching them together and curling ever so slightly over himself.

“Everything’s fine!”

“Shh..” You put a finger to your lips and look around the group.

No one woke up.

“What’s got your jimmies in a twist kid?” You squat down and place your hand on the blankets. They’re wet and the smell....

Oh you know what happened.

You stand up again and give him the curtesy of not saying it out loud. “I have a plan but you have to do as I say, no questions asked. We can make it so no one will know what happened. Ever. And this stays between only you and me, ok?”

You wipe your hand on your pants and hold out the opposite one to the boy. He stares at you with a red face and contemplates the choice. After only two seconds of deliberation, he takes your hand and gets up.

You suppose that to have an out, verses having to explain to everyone that he’s been looking up to sounds very appealing in the end. Better for only one person to know than ten.

“You’re lucky it’s still pouring buckets.” you say and grab all the blankets from his bed roll that you can. Chancing a glance at him, you see that his clothes are wet as well, pretty much from the waist down. With another thing to fix, you notice that his very bedroll is right by a huge puddle that had been forming and no one knew.

The hand in the glass water trick, then.

Your friends have seen and done that a few times to a few poor unsuspecting soul.

“Ok, here’s what you’re going to do.” You turn to Wind. “You’re going to change out of your clothes and into some clean ones. And then you’re going back to bed in my bed roll.”

“But where will you sleep?” He asks with a hand gripping his shirt

“I’ll steal it from the next guy.” You lie...kinda... That actually sounds appealing but you don’t think on it too much. “I’ll take the next shift to buy time and I’m going to throw your blankets and bed roll out into the rain, ok?”

“You were too close to the borders of the tarp anyway.” You continue with your plan, throwing them out for a second before turning on your heel and getting some of your clothes for Wind.

You think you might have something that’ll fit him but if not, it’s only to sleep in.

He changes into the clothes while you back out to the blankets.

In your search for the clothes, you dug out your powered soap and tossed some of it on the blankets and bed roll. After rubbing the fabric together to get it sudsy and deep into the material, you set it up against the tree and branches, letting the falling rain drops hit it and filter through.

It’s rudimentary and it took you longer than you wanted because now you’re also soaked to the bone and only halfway through but you think back to being a thirteen year old and how embarrassed you would have been and plow on to save Wind from the same fate.

You step back into the tarp and guide Wind, taking his clothes away to where you were sleeping prior. You’re clothes are way too big on him and it’s honestly more endearing than you would have thought.

“Thanks.” Wind says in a small voice. He’s humiliated, you know but you don’t focus on it.

“Your hand got wet and you pissed yourself in your sleep.” You say and shrug. “My friends and I were... are brats and it’s not the first we’ve played that prank. Put the poor saps in a glass of warm water and watch them pee their pants. It’s funny when it’s planned and well... not you. I won’t tell a soul.”

“You better not.” He sits down in your bed roll and begins to get comfortable. “It’s smells nice.”

“I try.” You grin.

“Do I owe you?” He looks up with big eyes and you think that it makes him look younger than he is.

“It’s on the house.” You wave him off and dash back in the rain to clean the rest of his clothes.

On the way back to cover, you kick the support that was closest to Wind’s spot, sending a torrent of rain upon yourself in the process but the spot where the pirate was is considered useless now.

Wind tilts his head from his spot and you grin. “Cover story.”

The rest of night is spent watching the time, watching the others and taking turns with Wind’s clothes and blankets by the fire so that all three of you can dry off before the sun comes up and the other inevitably ask questions.

By morning you’re dead on your feet, but consider it a job well done. 

[poptod]

Will You? (Rami Malek x Reader)

Description: Meeting Rami in the back alley behind an awards show.

Notes: ugh ive been having writers block for the first time in like two years so ive only been writing short stuff. i have a couple fics backpiled for various rami characters so thats coming up! gender neutral as usual WC: 1.5k

+

Ugh.

How quickly it all became too much. You wondered, clutching your aching head, why you even came here; large parties were never your scene, public events even less so. A world-wide broadcasted movie awards event was nothing near anything you'd done before. Earlier in the day, as you were dressing and readying yourself for the evening, you stared into the mirror and wondered then, as well, what you were doing.

Maybe––probably––it had to do with the fact that one of your favorite actors' presence was assured, and you rarely ever visited New York, making this the first time you'd been in the right place at the right time to have the opportunity to do this. You steeled yourself then and you steeled yourself now, digging into your clutch bag to pull out a carton of cigarettes.

You fumbled with the cigarette as you reached back in, searching for your lighter. A frustrated grumble grew in your mouth and came out as a curse. With a harsh sigh you yanked your hand out, throwing it up into the air, and sitting with a thud on a wooden box laying by the side of a large trash bin. You rubbed your face harshly, attempting to wipe away the irritation. To no avail––you had no lighter, and your nerves were itching, teeming with aggravation that crawled like bugs beneath your skin. You needed this and the world didn't like you.

The door you'd left the building from opened once more, swinging shut with a loud clanking sound that seemed to echo in the vacant alleyway. Drops of water fell into the puddles at your feet, still present from the earlier rain, and now filled with bits of trash. The very same water almost splashed onto you as a car passed by, its' wheels revving and spinning away through a massive puddle. It must've been midnight, but assholes were still awake as well, and the city lights showed no sign of stopping.

This was why you only visited New York City.

"Here," someone with a deep, rough voice spoke, and you looked up to find a vein-filled hand balancing a blue lighter between the second and third fingers.

There weren't any active lights in the alleyway, but the puddles reflected the street lights that stood a few meters away. That was enough to recognize him when you glanced to his face.

Rami fucking Malek.

He turned almost the second you looked up at him, meaning he didn't catch the sudden, stumbling recognition that flooded your expression. Thankfully, you had the time to calm yourself before he sat down across from you on a dirty (and probably wet) stool.

"Thank you," you said, lighting your cigarette and breathing in the sweet smoke before you said anything else. "You're a lifesaver."

"No, I just have a smoking problem," he said.

You both laughed, softly, and looked away.

You took another drag.

"You're Rami Malek, aren't you?" You said through the smoke that escaped you. It was rough on your throat, but you didn't especially care anymore. Somehow, you remembered a flask of water––just not the lighter.

"Yeah," he said with another soft, bashful, chuckle.

"I like your work. Or, your style," you mumbled as you tapped the ashy end away. He might've been a star of your dreams, and mere images of him might've taken your breath away, but you would treat him like a regular person. "It's.. unique, but familiar."

"Thank you," he said, nodding, a charming grin on his face. "May I ask your name?"

"(Y/N)." You shifted in your seat as you looked down. An ounce of humor came to you once you said, "you won't recognize the name."

"No, but I'm happy to recognize it in the future," he said, tilting his head in your direction.

You broke out in a laugh and a wide, blushing grin, shaking your head. God, he looked good in a suit––all black. Silver in his lapel. His neck revealed colored veins that led up to a jawline that would surely cut you. Why was he talking to you? Why was he being nice?

"You're a charmer," you finally said through your giggling, continuing with, "do you want some?" before he could say anything.

You handed the cigarette to him and he took it, pursing his lips and letting go with a puff of smoke. Even in the hot, humid air, those clouds coalesced and drifted away just as usual.

"You're not an actor," he stated, his eyes fixed on the cigarette as he tapped the ashes away. "Not here for that, so why are you here? Just out of curiosity."

"That's... a very good question," you said with an exasperated laugh. "I'm a teacher, I don't know what I'm doing here."

"Teacher?" He repeated. "My brother's one of those. What d'you teach?"

He handed the cigarette back to you.

"Third graders," you grumbled. He sucked in a sharp breath in a wince. "I usually do first graders, but not this year."

"That's rough, I've heard those are demonic years," he said, earning a laugh from you.

"Yeah, that's a good way of putting it," you said as you doted on the cigarette. "I guess this is just the first time I've visited New York when an awards show is happening."

"How do you like the big screen life so far?"

"Not very much, but I never thought I would," you said quietly, but he still chuckled. "I... I did think about being an actor, when I was a kid. I think a lot of kids do these days, though. Actors are.. like the new Gods. You know, in ancient times people would worship idols, and that's what people call you now..." you met his gaze and couldn't tear yourself from it, "... idols. Images of something to strive for."

He nodded, his brow creased in deep thought.

"After a while the world shows you what celebrity life is really like, and you read all sorts of things, see how people change... eventually you don't really want it anymore," you said, shrugging. "Or you decide you want it, or want part of it despite the other stuff."

He nodded again but had little to say despite being a celebrity himself.

"Which was it for you?"

"Hm?"

A spell broke over his eyes and he appeared to return to normal, having not heard or comprehended your words.

"Did you become an actor because you wanted all of it, with the bad parts, or you wanted a specific part and still became an actor despite all the other things?"

"... complex question," he said after a moment, rocking his balance back and forth awkwardly as you laughed. "I wanted to become other people, transform myself into characters. I was attracted to the job. Not the other things attached to it."

"Well I'm glad you became an actor anyway," you said, relighting the cigarette with a quick drag. "That way I could meet you."

"And I could meet you, as well," he said in that same, deep voice he used when he first spoke to you.

You could do nothing but chuckle and cast your eyes down, shaking your head.

"Yeah, I guess you could," you mumbled.

He reached forward, snagging the cigarette from between your fingers. That made you look up, drawing your attention back to the subtle lines marking his face, and the glow of fire that revealed cool, green eyes behind thick lashes.

A loud wave of cheering came from inside the building, and the both of you looked back at the steel door. Still unopened.

"I should probably get inside, the cameras might notice my seat's empty," he said in a similar mumble.

The cigarette, now nothing more than a filter, dropped from his lips and fell to the ground, squashed beneath his shiny, black shoe.

"Ready?" He asked.

"Have to be," you said as you stood. "Not wasting a fifty dollar ticket on my damn social anxiety."

He chuckled and said, "I'd invite you to sit with me, but there aren't any free spots. How about..." He'd been opening the door, but he paused, causing you to misstep and halt yourself only when your chest was an inch from his. Your eyes darted up to his. "Come see me after the show. I have a '97 bottle of Montalcino at home that I think you'd enjoy."

You nearly choked on your own spit, but fortunately for you, it only came out as a cough and a clearing of the throat. 'What', almost escaped your mouth in the most astounded tone before you bit it back.

Was he propositioning you? Was this a friendly invitation? Why was, again, Rami fucking Malek asking to spend anymore time with you than he had to?

You realized a silence had spanned between you when his eyes flickered down to your lips, at which point shock fully brought you back into your body.

"Will you?" He asked hopefully.

"Yeah," you murmured. "I'd like that."

[its-me-im-coraline]

NSFW Alphabet // Ethan Torchio

words // 2383

warnings // smut, clearly its nsfw headcannons

pairing // Ethan Torchio x GN!Reader (might be mentions that seem like they are for f reamer but comeon theres lingerie for every body 👁️👄👁️)

author's note // if you want to be on the tag list let me know. an apology to the people on my tag list i think i accidentally have not been tagging you this whole time i am so so so sorry omg

request // yes, it was a reblog i cant find it right now

summary // self explanatory

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Regarding you, Ethan is the king of after care. As rough as he can be in bed, that’s just how sweet he can be once you're done with it. Goes full on dad mode (don’t know how else to explain this). He will have water, painkillers if you’re now in pain, a washcloth to clean you up, new clothes, and of course the cuddles.

“I’m alright, Ethan. I can do it on my own,” you say as Ethan walks to you with the wet cloth ready to clean the mess he made on your body.

“I know you can, amore. I just want to take care of you,” he says as he leaves a kiss on your lips.

I can also see him being the one to make a big fat breakfast the morning after, or at least get up early to pick something up.

Now I also feel that he is in need of some aftercare. It depends on the day really, if he’s had a pretty rough day and all I feel like he’d ask for some backrubs after. In this case he’d fall asleep so quickly like omg. But on the biggest part I see him feeling the need to reassure you that the things he said (i think we already established that this man would call you a slut) are not how he feels about you and will be asking if you feel the same.

“Do you love me?”

“Wha- of course I do, Ethan! Where is this coming from?”

“I don’t know… I guess - I guess I am worried that you don’t after what I said.”

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

When it comes to himself I feel like he really likes his chest and arms. Like I don’t know but I see him really getting off with you pretty much mastubating on his chest. Ya know what I mean? (i think you do you little sluts). He pretty much enjoys anything you do on his chest. I can imagine him looking at the mirror after you two had sex, seeing the cum on his chest along with the marks you have left and just smiling.

“What are you looking at, love?” You ask, seeing as the man is standing in front of the bathroom mirror from your spot on the hotel bed.

“Nothing, just the mess you made.”

“Mhm, and I bet you like it, huh?”

“You have no idea… Hey, are you sure you got tired? Cause I think I can do another round.”

As for his arms, as I said, he simply really enjoys that he can man handle you anytime, get you in any position he likes and feel you scratching them from the pleasure.

When it comes to you, Ethan is an ass guy. Say what you want but the man is an ass guy, end of discussion. He loves anything that involves your but. It does not explicitly have to be something like anal. He simply enjoys seeing your butt and holding it in his hand. It does not matter if it’s big or not, if it has stretch marks or whatever. Wear lingerie that he likes or that itty bitty teeny weeny bikini if you wear them or even some tight pants that make your butt just poìp and he can not contain himself.

I think I have said that to someone here (i think I had sent an ask to zodi @ icouldbeyourputtet) before but I feel like this man is very into spanking, like not even the rough malicious way. but this very wholesome chill way.

You had been talking about it all day, not having had a minute alone with each other for days, you could only dream what you could do that night after everyone left.

A playlist was playing in the background and a cigarette was burning on the ashtray next to your legs, you assuming a similar position, as said cigarette, bent over Ethan’s lap as he caressed your ass cheeks and back, playing around with the lingerie set he had gifted you a while back. (Did I just go to search my fave porn vid, lol exposing myself, and get disappointed because I can’t find it and translate it into fanfiction? yes yes i did, so bare with what i can remember)

“It’s okay, baby, you can take a little more, come on,” he praised, leaving a spank and yet another soft rub on the very red cheek.

He continued, going with the music, a very nice pattern, not very rough spanks but just enough to cause pain, pleasure and redness all over. Accidentally the man landed a few very rough ones causing a gasp and a series of giggles as you practically fell off his lap.

“Ethan, what the hell?” You laughed getting up from the floor and this time sitting on the man’s lap, sharing kisses with him.

“What,” he copied your action and laughed, “it was not intentional. I got carried away by how nice your butt is.”

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He is and is not messy. He will not want the cum to be in every surface possible you know, he will be careful but at the same time this man just loves to see his cum on you, whether it’s your back or your stomach, or in you if you’re ok with it. I bet he has a teeny weeny breeding kink but not necessarily because of the idea of breeding you but rather because he looooves seeing his cum run out of you… I'm not sure if this falls in the breeding kink category but alright

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He likes to fuck you while watching porn.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

I feel like he is pretty experienced. From what they band has said in interviews and stuff, he seems to be getting some pretty often (no one, NO ONE, is surprised at that). He is not acting arrogant tho (not unless that’s the dynamic of the night), he is willing to learn what works for you and you specifically

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

As I said this man is an ass guy so I’d say anything that involves having the view of your ass. Humor me but i think he’d really like 69 with a female/afab partner (don’t know if this works very well with two dick-baring people lol). It has it all, eating you out,

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

I think it can be both with him. He will not exactly try to make jokes but if something like the previously mentioned spanking incident happens it’s def welcome.

Now as a general rule I see him being pretty serious. I will be honest, I’m getting brat tamer vibes from this man so it’s all pretty serious when you really get into it.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Considering he’s an Italian man and if you look at a lot of photos of him he def fit the ‘mediterenean’ man type. I see him just barely grooming. I don’t see him really shaving or whatever but he also wouldn’t want you to choke on pupic hair, he much rathers you choke on his dick

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

It all depends, really. He can be quite intimate with you but it all depends on the moment. There are different occasions for everything. For example, and this is a paradox that I hope I’m explaining well enough to understand, he is not very rough (will not be very aggressive and stuff, like to the extreme those tik tok boys want to pretend they are with their * growling * ew) but he will be rough. intimidating looks, spanking just enough to make you feel pain and redden up your ass cheeks. He’s like that mostly when you are being bratty.

Most of the times, like we’re talkin kind of lazy sex moments, it more wholesome ig, like very intimate and just comfortable and almost comforting. Ok, but like why do i see him having sex and having casual conversation (not the most common, i see this as like lazy day off, having nothing else to do and not being like super horny but being more like h o r n y … am i making sense?)

Setting the scene, you two are at home, both have a day off but it’s kind of raining so any of your plans are ruined. At this point it’s at around 10 am, not early, not late. You have missed each other and both have made it obvious but you are both in a very tired state so you opt for something not too much.

Plain and simple missionary is what goes around this time, Ethan on top just holding your legs around his waist,, going at a pretty medium pace.

“It’s a pity the weather is bad today,” says Ethan staring out the window.

“I know, we were going to go to the beach… I’m bummed about it,” you say, short of breath as the man continues his pace fucking you.

“Mhm, true. But this is better, amore, no? I’ve missed you so much,” he breaths out the last part, moans interrupting his words.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He does that pretty often, especially if you are not around to help. Sometimes it’s because of you that he needs to. I would def see him exchanging naked pics with you and at first he does that to tease you but he ends up teased when he sees a video you sent of you masturbating.

Bets that he’d be taking photos and vids of you fucking on occasion so he goes to these when he misses you on tour.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

As I mentioned previously I see Ethan to be a brat tamer. That I see to be the main kink that kind of works around everything else.

“Can you stop this, slut? It has gotten exhausting. I told you no noise but here you are,” he ordered, looking down at you trembling below his finger tips.

His face was quite stoic, voice never wavering from the strict and cold tone he tended to have when scolding you on the daily. Most times it was leaving a cup out of the sink but this time the scolding came from misbehaving. As if it was not enough that he was punishing you for being a brat and riling him up all morning, now you had to disobey orders. It was getting to him for sure.

“I’m sorry daddy,” you whisper, Ethan seeming satisfied with the response.

“Aw, why so tame puppy, now you decide to be nice?” His tone stayed the same, his words imitating a joke but the whole ordeal was not even close to it.

Now as for other kinks (did I open a site because I could not think? yes, shut up), as a result of being a brat tamer dom there are some few more kinks accompanying specifically that. He is def into bondage, both tying you up but also being tied up on occasion.

“Puppy, I have told you that is not a way to treat me. Untie me,” he says calmly, wrists tied on the headboard of the bed, eyes fixated to you.

“Well, why not? You do it all the time,” you whine, placed on all fours, facing Ethan as you lean towards him on your hands, “I want in on the fun.”

If only he was not tied… Ethan’s mind was already going places, figuring out exactly how he would punish you after you untie him -or after he escapes the restrains, whatever comes first. You knew that, very well - in all honestly that was the plan, that is always the plan.

“Amore, let me go. Let me go and your punishment will be tame,” he voiced looking at you, now positioned on top of his lap, touching yourself right then and there.

“I sense you want to be punished puppy, don't you?” You simply nod your head, eyes closed in pleasure.

“You see, the problem is you will not enjoy what I am thinking.”

“Mhmn.”

“Well, get yourself off now that you can, cause after I get my hands on you… You’re not getting to cum for days, amore.”

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Honestly, anywhere. I can see him having a preference to the luxury of either of your houses or a hotel room but if you push his buttons just right, some restaurant’s bathroom it is.

why can i imagine him having sex at a weeding venue’s bathroom….. omg…..

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Honestly, both. I feel like he would be extremely good at giving it, but would never opposed to receiving

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He’s ok with them but he doesn’t love them, ya know?

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.

Is surely try to do new things but it will always depends on what it is.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Come on. This goes without saying. He is a drummer for a living. He can surely go on for long…

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

I def feel like he has a fair amount of toys. Some for himself, some for you… He looooves using them to punish you.

(small mention to my last fic little puppet)

“Beautiful, puppy! You have been doing so good for us, taking your punishment so well, but we are not done yet.” A buzz sound is what concerned the girl, eyes widening at the toy.

It was a small remote virator, imitating sucking on the clit. The drummer placed the girl over his knees, stuffing the toy between his leg and her clit, shocking the sensitive bud. “I think you can take a few more spanks,” said the man, landing one at the expanse of her thigh, the skin giggling at the contact.

“Damiano, count,” ordered the assertive man, seeing his friend kneel in front of Y/N, kissing her and then doing as he was told.

“I think we were left on twenty-three. Twenty four,” he began, counting all the way to forty before the ordeal was over.

The whole time Y/N was shaking, just about to fall off the edge, asking for permission to cum but her wishes were not granted just yet. She was exhausted, overstimulated, frustrated, and now unable to move on her own. But, oh man did she need more. The two men were more than willing to assist her.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

A ton! It’s his specialty. Maybe one of his most common punishments is edging and teasing. He can drag it on for days

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He is not very loud but is surely encouraging you to be.

tag list: @bieberhoodforever @tabi-toast @ginny-lily @moriro-da-regina @the-killer-queenie @makapaka11 @teenyweenynightghost

[lune-hime]

Exposed (Sidon x f!Reader)

The ornate silver neck piece made contact with the tiled floor with a satisfying clank. With each clasp undone, Sidon felt his body buzzing at the newfound lightness. The metallic chime of his final piece of garment, his left bracelet, was a beautiful sound that echoed off the vast pillared walls of his chambers. Although it already had been a day since his arrival, his muscles still ached with a dull tightness brought onto him from the journey to Hyrule Castle. A subtle form of tiredness akin to jetlag was quickly draining his energy and he could not wait to submerge himself in the ample pool that laid before him.

Sidon padded to the edge of the water, streaks of ivory moonlight passing over his crimson scales. He kneeled down, wincing as he heard a few of his bones crack, and dipped an experimental hand into the basin. The warmth of the liquid sent a shiver up Sidon’s body and he immediately slid into the water in one fluid movement. The castle maids had prepared his pool with warm water, per your request, to the exact temperature you knew he liked it. Although this was just one of the many guest rooms in the immense castle, he felt your homey presence in every corner of the chamber. It made his heart flutter in adoration.

Sinking lower, he let the water engulf his shoulders. The tension diffused out and a supple moan escaped his parted lips. Lightly treading water, his thoughts circulated through his mind much like the gentle current of the pool. The officials and champions he had rekindled with today, what was he going to eat tomorrow morning, how radiant you had looked in your formal w-

“Prince Sidon, I forgot to ask you on more question before you retired to the room!” Zelda’s melodic voice carried from the hallway. Her small but sturdy frame emerged from behind the towering door, the hem of her gown swaying about her ankles as she danced her way into the entryway. Soon after she appeared, your head peeked its way around the frame.

Perhaps it was the abruptness of the entry, the intimate solitude of the chambers, his discarded garments, or all factors combined, but Sidon suddenly felt hot. Uncomfortably hot; and not from the water.

“A-ah, yes Princess, what did you want to, ah, ask me?” He coughed, awkwardly sinking lower into the pool. He cursed the palace for having such crystal clear water.

Your brow knit into a firm line at his flustered state. Never before had you seen him act like this seemingly for no reason. When his eyes began flicking anxiously from the pile of metal to you, a wave of understanding flooded your consciousness. Sidon felt exposed. And he was embarrassed about it.

It was natural for Hylian habits to rub off on him since the two of you had started courting. When you were in the Domain, the only time you spent away from the Prince was when you were working on Vah Ruta or the one to two hours of his council meetings. With all that contact how could a few things not start to be ingrained in Sidon’s daily routine? It was clear now by the steady reddening of his cheeks that one of those habits pertained to wearing garments. Or more specifically, when one is caught not wearing them.

“Oh, is this a bad time?” She blinked, unclear of what had him acting so strangely. Sidon looked like he was about to expire in the cloud of uncomfortableness that was circling above the pool. As adorable as he looked, shuffling bashfully and avidly studying the carvings on the nearest pillar, you needed to save him. Biting back your laughter you tapped Zelda lightly on the shoulder. Her head whipped around, confusion still inscribed on her face.

“Zelda, it appears that Sidon was not expecting company this late at night.” You stated, giving her a knowing look you prayed she would pick up on. You cocked your head subtly towards the armor and Zelda gasped softly, the tips of her pointed ears running rosy. She then looked to the Prince with panic written all over her features and he returned the expression tenfold. The two of them turned from mimicking rose petals to beats instead, only making the aroma of the room more thick with tension.

“Oh my goodness! My deepest apologies, Sidon. I didn’t realize you were having, ahem, some alone time.” She cleared her throat and dropped her gaze to the floor so fast you wondered if she got whiplash.

“Well, Y/N can just tell me your answer tomorrow morning. Until then.” She stuttered, abruptly turning on her heels and disappearing behind the door. Once the brisk click signaled her departure, every muscle, tendon, and scale in Sidon’s body went lax. He sighed, tipping his head back against the edge of the pool with a gentle clunk. You took a moment to drown in his appearance. He was like a slightly wilted lotus flower with coral petals basking in the rippling droplets of indigo moonlight.

It now physically hurt to restrain your hysterics and you suddenly burst into a fit of giggles, drowning the luminated room in a symphony of laughs not unlike a songbird’s. Sidon poked one eye open and shook his head in mortified distress, still lazily leaning against the tiled rim.  

“Stop laughing, Y/N. I bet she thinks I was doing something lewd or weird. In her castle of all places.” He grumbled, raising his hands out of the water to run them over his face.

Once you had reigned in your cacophony you padded over to the pool and sat down next to his deflated form, feet dangling into the water.

“Nah. It’s okay, Si. She’s my oldest and best friend. If she does I’ll tell her the truth.” You nudged him playfully. He lolled his head to the side in your direction.

“That might be even more embarrassing…” Sidon trailed off, his face contorted into a slight grimace. You returned it with a fond smile.

“Stop looking at me like that.” He huffed, a feigned pout forming on his features. The rosiness on his cheeks bloomed once more as he lightly splashed your feet where they embraced the water’s surface.

“You know, you used to never be embarrassed about being seen without your accessories.” You stated innocently, eyeing him to observe his reaction.“They don’t really leave anything to the imagination, anyway.”

“Hylian customs are rubbing off on me, I guess.” He replied in a small voice, snaking an arm around your calf to press himself into your side. He started idly playing with your toes, offering a squeak from you. You lightly kicked out, hoping to shake him off. Instead he only scooted closer yet he resigned from his tickling.

“What did the Princess want to ask me?” Sidon inquired. He seemed to be mostly recovered from the ordeal.

“She wanted to know what you wanted for breakfast tomorrow. You left before she could put in an order for the chef.”

“Damn, that’s an important question.” He muttered, setting his chin on your knee and looking up at you with anticipation, his eyes large and blinking.  

“I was planning on telling her smoked salmon.” You informed the prince, giving his caudal fin a loving stroke. Sidon’s eyes lit up, his saffron orbs turning a brilliant gold that put the calming hue of the starlight to shame. He could feel himself start to salivate at the mention of the Hylian delicacy.

“Don’t drool on my leg.” You teased, chuckling as he gulped audibly. You were unable to convey your thoughts on the dish as the deep chiming of the castle’s clocktower replaced whatever voice you would have spoken. The twelve bells signaled it had just turned midnight.

“It’s late, we should both get some rest. We need to wake up early for the festivities tomorrow.” You let out a bittersweet sigh, not wanting to break away from the closeness you shared but knowing you would be the walking dead in the morning if you stayed up any longer. As you rose to your feet, Sidon’s head limply fell into the water, his gaze never leaving your form. Just as you were about to deliver a sweet goodnight, he gingerly grabbed your ankle.

“Please stay, my pearl.” He suggested, a gentle plea that caused your heart to skip a beat.

“Can’t get enough of me, hm?” You sang.

“A very true statement, darling.” Sidon cooed, the warmth radiating from his gaze brushing the tips of your ears and leaving a blushed residue in its wake.

“Alright.” You responded through a yawn.

“We can go back to your chambers, if you’d like.” Sidon suggested, releasing his hold on your ankle and making a move to leave the basin. You shook your head and held a hand out to stop him. He halted his movements immediately and blinked up at you.

“You’re soaked. You’ll get my bed wet. I will go get some blankets and return.” You chuckled as you strode towards the doors. He hummed in agreement, a breathy laugh puffing from his chest. Grasping the knob, you turned to face Sidon once more.

“Better keep an eye on this door, my prince. Wouldn’t want someone to see you so exposed now would we?” You warned, tone velvety and blithe. The last thing you heard before you skittered out of the room was a loud groan and the sound of an unlit candle being halfheartedly thrown at the door.

[rumblelibrary]

I'm not sure if you have already done something like this before, and if you did, please let me know, I'd love to read it, BUT I was wondering if you could do a little thing, maybe with Sebastian Zöllner, where he is like totally behind on every fucking deadline, work is just piling up, he got into stress with his ex, the dishes are not done, he should go take out the trash, you know, everything is just piling up and he just cracks under the pressure, severely doubting his worth as a person. And his friend, the reader, gotta try their best to build him up again, telling him all the things they love about him, and it slowly turns into a love confession without them noticing.

Is this too elaborate, does that make sense for Seb? Idk. To me it does? Like he's always very...Seb around other people, but deep down I feel like he's always under this pressure to live up to his own and others expectations, wanting to be big and famous and perfect in a way.

I'm so sorry, brain go brrr.

Never Enough [Sebastian Zöllner x Reader]

Word Count: 4k Warnings: bad habits (heavy smoking and drinking), self deprecation, depression and some fluff in the end. A/N: I loved this prompt, I love to write Sebastian so thanks to you once more for giving me this opportunity

He should have probably realised something was wrong when the ashtray was vomiting cigarettes out from its dooming position beside the laptop.

He nervously used the left part of the one he just ended to scavenge some space and just pressed it along the others.

Or maybe when after another sip of the same cold coffee mixed with cheap gin he felt the walls of his stomach revolting and stirring against him, threatening a much bigger damage.

Or, again, when he felt like calling back Elke because he was so alone and he was hungry and tired, and she might hate him but he could pull some puppy eyes and maybe it would work. It usually did.

The truth was that he shouldn’t have taken up so many jobs, but the bank account was crying and he needed them, he needed the money.

But again: writing about the umpteenth girl- artist performing naked on a famous historic location?

Or do we have to talk about the way somebody splashed some colour here and there  on a canvas saying it is the catharsis of his young mind against the social construct?

Please, may God spare him from the man calling himself landscape artist because he takes pictures of naked girls on a field.

Charged up with this amount of nothingness, he could just write and delete, write and delete, words count going quickly up to 400 only to go back at 0 in a snap of his fingers over the buttons, because he couldn’t just tear them down. He had to give them some hope, a glimpse of potential he couldn’t see and he wasn’t even aware it existed. Each of them disgusted him, but he was specifically asked to be entertaining and not a killer with his words.

So he kept swiping up videos and photos of these artists, trying to find one thing, one holy grail to get attached to and finally write one good optimistic line in the middle of the words he had to pull up to keep a moderate tone.

He rubbed his temple running over his hairline, which by the way was perfectly fine, before his hand reached down and he touched his t-shirt pulling on the neckline to gather some air, he was wearing his pyjama still, white stained shirt on blue tartan pants. He raised up the shirt and bowed his head down giving in a long inhale from the inside and just cringed to himself.

He looked around as he couldn’t stand up, if he did then he will get only more distracted and these articles needed to be ready for tomorrow.

He noticed the spray against the mosquitos on the floor, those little bastards always hiding under his desk to bite his ankles, he picked it up and sprayed it over himself like it was perfume hoping to ignore the need of a shower for few more hours.

His eyes scanned the small studio flat he was living now: the dishes sticking out of the sink, the noisy fridge buzzing. The one table that was also his work desk filled with used mugs, stained plates covered in cigarettes and leftovers, empty packages of his favourite brand discarded everywhere: from the bathroom up to the couch and to the small bed he owned. Damn, if he run out of cigarette it will be hard to ignore how he also run out of food.

The space was dark and gloomy, some of his stuff still packed up, the fake pop art panting of him and Elke staring at him reminding him of his other loss.

He didn’t touch the bed in days, he just slept on the seat or on the couch.

His attention was attracted by his phone buzzing.

He sat up straight as it was her, it was Elke.

Did she sense his discomfort? 

“Elke” he picked up the call in a second.

“Wow, a quick answer, did you have your phone already in your hand or it happens just so late at night?”

Her sarcasm did’t go past him, but he just thought how long it was since he heard a human voice and not the recording of some idiot calling himself artist.

“No, I was thinking of you”

“Yes, sure, look I have sent you an email with the bills of the time you were here, the ones you have left to pay and it is only fair that you pay at least half of them”

“Sure” he just said it because he wanted to go past the point of money, he wanted her back. Maybe he could crush at her place, feel her hands through his hair, shower, sleep some good sleep and the articles will come around in few types “Elke, I was thinking we might…”

“I just called you for the bills”

“I know, but maybe we could have” his eyes darted at the top right of his laptop screen to see the time “a drink together?”

She huffed a laughter as he frowned lightly “I know you Seb, if it is money or sex what you’re looking for that door is closed and it has been for a long time”

“I know” he murmured as he let out a breathy sigh, a dooming sense of loneliness creeping over him like a giant spider ready to wrap him up and eat him “I just hoped…”

“Don’t hope Sebastian, you’re already an hopeless cause”

She hung up on him and he was left there, he kept that same pose with his phone against his ear. His eyes trailing once again over the empty page of his document on the screen, on the chaos surrounding him.

He nibbled on his bottom lip before running his tongue over the pained area.

He pushed the phone back down on the table with a tremble of his jaw and a shaky hand.

She was right.

What he did of his life anyway? He lost most of his occasions in life, he was now in his thirties and he concluded nothing of what he hoped to be, he failed in all the departments both as an artist and as a critic.

A jack of all trades is a master of none, and maybe only the first type of the famous quote could be applied to him.

He couldn’t even take the trash out or he couldn’t remember the last time he ate something that was vaguely resembling of fruits or vegetables. It is all good when you imagine yourself as a bohemian rooting against the world, when you convince yourself that’s only the proof you needed to know you are fighting well against a system of art that privileges banality and marketing over real artistic value and that, one day, all your struggles will be worth it.

Even Picasso was poor for a long time in Paris.

Damn, maybe to be in a situation like this in Paris would sound more romantic.

But the truth was: he never imagined to have to do it alone, that life would feel so overwhelming, that there wouldn’t be anything but extreme struggle, anger, loneliness and a terrible diet.

For a moment he wished to be a baby again, to be the bright boy he was and let mommy take care of his needs and his dirty shirt and empty stomach. He wished that maybe somebody noticed him before, that somebody saw his talent and helped him to pull it out instead of leaving him to do it on his own only to come late to every step.

And now it is too late, he is lost in the sea of terrible paid jobs and anguishing relationships, let’s not forget maybe he indeed had a receding hairline and he was doomed to get bold .

He squeezed his eyes as a soft sob took over his lip, hand running over his forehead as he pulled on his hair justifying his tears with some physical pain. He shook his head as he tried to gain back some composure, hand flung over to pick up his coffee mug and giving in a long gulp of the coffee, the same one he swore before to not touch again, only to almost choke on it, couching it out only to pick up the bottom hem of his shirt to clean his laptop screen.

He fucking hated to write on a computer, the old typewriters inspired him but that damn ink was too expensive now for his sore pockets.

He smirked to himself as he kept doing it, finding good excuses to call himself off any responsibility. But maybe Elke was right, well she surely was, she had two degrees, maybe he was really a lot cause. He frowned as he wiped slowly the screen with his already stained shirt, the wetness sticking then against his skin as soon as he let it go giving him another shiver.

He didn’t have even the strength to cry, he could only accept it was over.

The curse that he shouted out loud when he heard knocking at the door, smashing him out of his thought spiral, generated an immediate anger reaction from him.

“Fuck, shit, if it is the fucking neighbour, I swear I will kill her cat or that rat she has as cat, fucking hell”

He grumbled as he stood up moving across the table not caring about his state, he only wanted to crawl back into a ball and maybe nuzzle a bit somewhere.

When his death glare appeared after the door opened in a powerful swing his eyebrows lifted immediately finding you on the other side.

He blinked, one of those sleepy blinks where somebody closes his eyes and then opens them really wide to make sure it is not made up in their brain, that one.

His eyebrows furrowed as he stared at you 

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

“You should wash your mouth with holy water Sebastian” you said shaking your head raising your arms to show him some paper bags “I am bringing food and body shower”

He shook his head “Are you calling me stinky?”

“I am” You quickly replied moving past him into his place ignoring his groan.

He stood by the door slowly closing it, he was sure that old bitch was looking through her peephole, only then he stared at you try to make your way into the filthy kitchen. He was really embarrassed about his antics, but surely this time he exceeded some record.

“I am speechless Seb, I helped you with the moving and this place seems to have taken over you” you said as you knew he was in some rut when he kept such a long phone silence.

He was usually always texting, sending memes or one sentence texts.

You cared about him, deeply, you knew he was full of flaws and little quirks, but that’s what made him special. Nevertheless, you were worried about the state of the place, how it showed the way he let himself get dragged through the days. So he observed you, better to say, your back, the way you moved around opening the window to let fresh air inside, turning on a lamp to make some light that wasn’t just the blue one of the screen. Pulling out commodities and food from your magic bags like some sort of Mary Poppins of struggling writers. How you poured soap in the dirty load of dishes and pans, the way you marched securely to his desk to pick up that filthy mug and you frowned just sniffing at it.

“Is that poison?”

“Rat poison” he corrected you.

You shook your head as you cleaned a glass and filled it with water and among the groceries you pulled out a banana.

“Have this now, it will help” you said and he took the glass with one hand and the banana with the other like his brain was shut down.

He stared at you as you leaned your head slightly on side, he went through bad times after the break up but you had never seen him in such a helpless state.

He was chaotic but he always loved to keep up his appearance, to give that handsome and damned kind of vibe.

“Sebastian” you called him as his eyes spaced out and now where back on you “Are you alright?”

He observed you, he stared at your face like he was trying to recognise you, truth it was he kept pushing himself to say yes, say yes, say it is all good, make a joke, a remark, keep it up. You don’t need his burden, you don’t need to hate him like Elke and others do.

Just say yes.

“No” he said as his lips trembled and you watched his ironic mask fall right in front of you as he looked away hiding his tears, real tears, not the ones he can play out whenever he needs.

Just as quickly as you gave him the banana and the water you took them off his hands afraid he might hurt himself by dropping the glass in particular.

"Seb" you called his attention as he sobbed moving like a bird trying to hide his face against his own shoulder.

You took his now empty hands dragging him toward the couch and kicking off the pile of dirty clothes and discarded books on top of it to make him sit down with you.

"Talk to me"

He didn't, the man that was never out of words, even in the times he should have been, was now silent as a tombstone staring away from you as you gave a gentle squeeze to his hands. It pained you to see him in such a state.

So weak, so helpless like a lost child.

"I can't help you if you don't talk"

Sebastian shook his head still staring at the wall.

"You can't help me"

"Is it about writing? I can proof read you, it will be a moment"

He shook his head again making, hair bouncing from side to side.

"No, it is not important if I write or not"

You frowned at that comment.

"What the hell?" you just blurted out "Seb you're a talented writer, you're passionate, funny, witty, why shouldn't it be important?"

He looked up at you shaking his head "I can't write, I can't put together two sentences"

Your eyes travelled onto his side profile, truth to be told he looked worn out but he was still handsome like only Sebastian Zöllner could be. He had that chaotic charm, even with a wrinkled suit he was fearless, strong, poignant. You couldn't avoid him, he owned every place he stepped in and you could feel his gaze run through your bloodstream.

When he asks a question, he meant it, it was a test run into your bones and you loved every second of it.

His lips tightened as he diverted his gaze finally to you. You knew his relationship with Elke was important, he cared about others even if he didn't show it daily like most people do.

"Is it Elke?"

"No, she was just right"

"About what?"

He gulped, his throat dry as he pulled his bottom lip in his mouth grinding his teeth over it like playing something through that gesture.

"About me"

"Breakups are always shit, don't you even.."

"No Y/N" he interrupted you, he was serious, maybe his voice trembled but he wasn't lying or playing some role "I am really a lost cause, I mean look at his place"

His hand waved around the small flat like a drunk orchestra director.

"It is pure trash, I haven't finished unpacking, I didn't have food until you came, I am unable to look after myself, to look after the people that I care about. I worked so hard to be an artist and then I became a critic and now I am so knee deep into my own shit that I have more debts than entries, more failures than successes, more haters than friends"

He gulped down, the waterline of his eyes dangerously red and he sniffled up as he let out a little weak whisper "I just wish I could disappear"

"No"

It came out of you like a lighting bolt, it surged out of you before you could even elaborate. Like an order. A command.

"Seb, you're now in a rough patch of life, but you have always worked hard and well as a writer"

"I am a writer because I failed as an artist"

"You're a writer because you know of what you're talking about, because you're able to see the difference between marketing and passion, between hard work and laziness, because you respect that profession and it makes you the best critic"

"I just want to destroy them all because I am envious, Elke always said I am fuelled by my own envy”

"I have read pieces of yours only encouraging the rightful and bringing down the real frauds"

He shook his head as he was just fixating on the wrong, on the flaws, on the problems.

You huffed cupping his cheeks to force him to look at your eyes.

"Look at me" you said not admitting replies "you are talented in what you do, you are one of the best in your field and you're not on some big magazine only because they know they will have to put up with your shit: with the fact you always meet the people, you look at art pieces in presence, you touch them, you research the colours, you scrutinise everything to the bone"

He took your hands hating to be held like that but he squeezed them in his owns.

"And yes, you're allergic to ironing clothes and washing dishes is your personal nightmare, and yes, you give out many temper tantrums and have a terribly dark sense of humour, you are a failure at time and money management, you love filthy rich stuff and smoke like your life depends on it"

He stared at you, he listened quietly as you knew him from so long and many people, Elke included, wondered what you gained from helping him or just being around him that much. He often teased his ex about being jealous of you and she always said that it was like being jealous of a mortgage.

"So you agree?"

 "I agree to say you are flawed like all of us, that you are just the perfect balance to your writing, you're what you write. You're passionate, you give out the two hundred percent of what you can give, you are like this, you go all-in in everything you do, there's no compromise, no mid way, no foreseeable change of direction, you speed up into the darkness and don't look back. You are bold, you take risks, you let people hate you because you do not compromise with who is son of who or who is the director of what gallery, you judge people over their real qualities. Because you talk to them in their face, because you don't hide that yes, you want to be great, because you're handsome and charming and smart, nobody can outsmart you in your field, not even that idiot you hate that much"

"Golo Fucking Moser" he murmured

"Golo Fucking Moser" you repeated with a chuckle "you don't have anything to envy to him beside the bruises he probably has on his knees for bending down to anyone"

He chuckled at that comment.

"And also, you're more attractive, that pisses off Seb, it is unfair to the poor man”

He leaned his head on side as you wouldn't normally shower him in compliments, he had enough ego for that, but you had never seen him like this and you wished to never see him again in such a state.

"You find me attractive?"

"Well for sure you're an eye candy" you joked

"I mean it"

You rolled your eyes blushing a bit and huffing a chuckle "I do, alight? It is universal knowledge"

He looked at you as he still held your hands in his, his thumbs making soft shapes over the back of your hand.

"That I am attractive or that you find me attractive?"

You groaned looking away with an embarrassed giggle “okay, okay, I see you're back in yourself, let's eat now"

You moved to stand up but he didn't do the same remaining sat in his spot.

"Tell me"

"I pumped your self esteem enough, now let me go"

He chuckled softly, he never really thought you'd be interested. He usually shows off so many bad traits that he has to tone himself down and really try hard to attract someone. It is all an effort on his part to appear better or at least less quirky.

And then now look at you, appreciating even his shit show.

"Y/N" he murmured giving you a soft squeeze. You kept silent not daring now to meet his gaze. He bowed his head trying to reach for your eyes with his gaze and he looked up at you, a smile that wasn't provocative over his lips.

You pulled back yanking your wrists off his grip to move straight into the kitchen corner.

You begun pulling ut some fresh vegetables and bread, you also got some cheese knowing he loves it, wanting him to have a good dinner.

He followed you almost immediately and soon you found his arms grasping you once more in a hug, his chest pressed against your back, his forehead on your shoulder.

"Seb, you..."

"I know, I stink, just give me a moment" he said and you obliged him gently caressing his arms around you.

You hated to be in the friend zone, but you wouldn't be able to survive to lose him forever or to have him joke about it.

Now he was quiet, tender like a hurt pup.

"Thank you, you know you can count on me too, right? For anything” he said and you chuckled softly “I know, you’re my favourite avenger”

He nodded brushing his crisp beard against your cheek and after few minutes stuck in that hug he dropped a kiss on your neck "love you”

He pulled back giving you a smile as he picked the shower gel you left on the counter bringing it with himself to the bathroom with a soft hum.

You smiled a bit bitterly to yourself as you guessed it was meant in a friendly way, but today it was alright. You could endure it. Also that kiss, he always did it when he was drunk, at parties or in the taxi back home after a viewing. It was his cuddly way to say things without saying them, without rambling, and you appreciated that silent language. 

Maybe now he was drunk over his own feelings.

Just like you.

Tagged @cazzyimagines @lieutenantn @handmaiden-of-mischief @thesunflowersutra @zemomybeloved @fictionlandslanddreams @charistory @greeneyedblondie44 @apparrio @hb8301 @whatawildone @rhymerhymerhyme  @thehuiabird @lilith-blackrose @unbeatablecurlgirl @obsidianlaszlo @alindeluce @zemosimp05 @baronesszemo-blackwood @nocapesdahling @everythingbeginsineternity-blog @archangelproperty

[lilhwahwa]

White Hemlock, 2 - 𝙋.𝙎𝙃

WARNING: mafia au! Strong language! BLOOD! liddol angst? Liddol fluffy. Not proof read o.o

MASTERLIST 

Previous part

Summary from last part: Y/N’s family gets threatened by an anonymous number. Y/N has to poison Seonghwa and knock him out temporarily in order to keep everyone safe, but gets caught slipping the poisonous herb into his tea which lead to a rather heated confrontation in his home office at dawn. 

-

That night, when you had returned from the bathroom in your and Seonghwa's shared room, you found him gone. A part of you was relieved, knowing that meant his confrontation wouldn't continue longer than it already had. But another part of you, your heart specifically, kept aching for the man you loved to come back soon and hold you in his warm embrace. Where was he anyway? Was he going to go after the people who sent you the messages? If that was the case, you knew it would be impossible to stop him once he started, aware of his need to finish tasks thoroughly.  

You had heard shuffling in your shared bedroom after Seonghwa instructed you to go clean up in the bathroom. And after the confrontation in his office, you had no intentions to argue further and did as instructed. You splashed cold water onto your face with shaky hands, mind replaying the moment your lover had connected the metal tip of his gun to your temple, his loaded gun. The wooden door of your bedroom shutting close brought you back to reality. He had left for the night.

You sighed, twisting and turning in your bed as scenarios of Seonghwa getting beaten by big, scary guys played out before your closed eyes. Harshly cold shivers ran down your legs and spine every time you imagined his stoic face twist in pain and instead kept your eyes opened, not wanting to see such a sight again. 'How ironic, you were going to poison him anyway...' you thought to yourself, chest still heavy with guilt as you realized how close you were to hurting your loved one. Your hand desperately rubbed at the ache in your stomach in small circular motions, the action being ineffective as the tightness spread to your chest, pressing you down further into the soft mattress as if a heavy weight had been placed on top of you.

If it weren't for the long and dark drapes hanging over the windows in your room, you'd think it was still night time, mere minutes having passed since you went to bed. Yet no sleep had made it even close to you even after hours, only melancholic thoughts of Seonghwa getting hurt, there to entertain your exhausted brain. At this point it was torture. Should you call him? Would he even answer? No, he would probably be angry still.

As you sighed, ready to turn to your other side again, you heard faint footsteps slowly growing louder as they approached your bedroom. The marble floor outside helped you make a perfect calculation of how far away this person was, and just as the door flew open, your eyes shut tightly, every muscle in your body squeezing tightly as you tensed up.

"Fucking hell-" a low curse sounded in the otherwise silent room. Seonghwa's shallow breaths filled the rest of the silence as you heard him shuffle to what seemed the bathroom. 'Correct', you thought as the bathroom door shut closed.  

Did Seonghwa fall for that? Did he think you had fallen asleep? You felt almost proud of having fooled him for once, mind racing back to the few times you pretended to be asleep. Those times always ended up with Seonghwa's lips turning up into a cocky smirk as he attacked your sensitive sides with tickles, refusing to let go of your shaking form until tears were streaming down your face from the laughter. No matter how unpleasant it felt, you always looked forward to the soft kiss he sealed his actions with.

You were brought out of your thoughts when a pained groan weakly made its way through the bathroom door.  Your brows knitted together in concern as you sat up immediately. Had you heard it correctly or was it your mind playing games on your exhausted state?

You swing your legs over the edge of the bed as another groan made its way to you. Eyebrows furrowed and nerves eating away at your stomach, you carefully stepped over to the bathroom. With a shaky hand, you push down on the door handle, revealing a sickening sight. Seonghwa sat on the closed toilet lid. Crimson red blood trickled down his lips and chin before joining messily at his neck, running down and under his white dress shirt that was soaked in dried blood already.

"S-Seonghwa?" your bottom lip quivered as you stood frozen at the door frame. At that moment he seemed to stop his cleaning up process, hand pausing in the air as he acknowledged your presence. Fuck, he had forgotten to lock the door.

"Leave," he grumbled before pressing a cotton pad to his nose, tilting his head back slightly as the white material quickly absorbed the flow of blood from his nose. You didn't even acknowledge the tears threatening to spill from you as your chest forgot to rise, forgot to take a breath. A harsh sounding and tight-throated sob leaves your lips as it all comes crashing down. It was not your initial discomfort for blood, but rather his blood that made your hands tremble as you took another step closer to him.

"I said leave," he spits, knowing he wouldn't be able to handle cleaning up and seeing you cry at the same times. Knowing he'd rather bleed out comforting you, than tending to his wounds.

"N-no," you sniffle and come even closer, collecting yourself with a shaky breath as your eyes searched for more cotton pads and the hydrogen peroxide liquid, having heard from Hongjoong once or twice that it was used to stop blood quicker. With shaky hands, you reach out to his face and cringe as your hands touch the warm and soaked cotton pad, removing it from his bloody nose and throwing it away into the sink. You swallowed back a pained sob that threatened to leave your lips when you saw the blossoming purple bruise around his left eyes. Your bottom lip quivered, but you said nothing as you grabbed a new cotton pad, twisting it into a small string and pouring the liquid onto it before gently pushing it into his nose.

You looked down at your bloodied hands and then back at his face. Seonghwa had closed his eyes again, trying his best to stop any emotions from being able to enter and leave him. He knew he had to think logically from now on, and seeing your heartbroken form would do the exact opposite, he'd snap in mere seconds.

You reach out gently, placing your hand on his sharp jaw, gently as if he was made out of porcelain. You still found him breathtaking, and despite the circumstances, you couldn't help but look down at his plump, slightly chapped, lips.

"Hwa," you whispered more to yourself, voice breaking. You shook your head when you were met with silence, knowing you had to do something to help him. It's the least you could do. With that, you reached for a small towel, turning away from Seonghwa to wet the rough material with warm water. Without questioning your actions, Seonghwa opened his cold eyes to observe, letting you do whatever it is you planned to. You avoided his cold gaze, not wanting to be reminded of your earlier confrontation.

With a shaky hand, you gently cleaned the drying blood away from his face with the towel, careful not to overstep his boundaries. For every second that Seonghwa watched your face twisted in concentration, he felt the ice around his heart melt off piece by piece until...

"Baby-" he whispered, eyes back to his warm and softly round ones. The same eyes as when you had worn his hoodie at home for the first time or when you told him you loved him. You almost thought that you had imagined it out of desperation, not stopping your process for even a second. Seonghwa couldn’t deny himself anymore and sighed, reaching out to place his hands on your hips, squeezing the soft flesh with a satisfied hum.

Your eyes quickly jumped to his, brows furrowed as you wondered what it is that he wanted. "D-did it hurt? I'm so sorry, I just-" you rambled, only stopping when Seonghwa sat up and reached forward to finally place his lips on yours. The initial contact was sloppy and you could feel your nose press against his cheek uncomfortably. Yet that didn't stop a big wave of warmth from spreading through your body as if a firework had exploded inside of you. You gasped and before you could comprehend what was happening, Seonghwa had you straddling his thighs, pulling away for a second to reposition the both of you before reconnecting your lips in a much deeper kiss. Despite the confusion and fear to hurt him, you also couldn't deny that this is what you wanted right now. You dropped the dirty towel on the floor and reached forward to wrap your arms around his neck, careful in case he had more injuries.  

Soft mewls left your lips as his digits dug into your flesh, holding onto you as if you'd run away.

"I took care of them, all of them" he whispered against your lips, moving down to press his lips to the base of your neck. "What do y-you me-" you tried asking but instead let out a low moan as he bit down on your skin. Seonghwa smirked at your reactions proudly, tongue sticking out to lick a long stripe of skin right up to your jaw, humming to himself as he felt you melt in his arms.

"You don't wanna know what I did to them...," he mutters, pulling away to finally get a look at your dishevelled form. Lips slightly swollen and cheeks flushed from the intensity of his kiss. Somehow the information only shot another wave of warmth through your body and this time it was you that launched forward to press your lips to his, for a second taking Seonghwa by surprise. Yet he had no problem taking the control right back from you as he squeezed down on your thigh. His tongue snaked into your mouth as you gasped, a low groan left his throat as everything around you seemed to turn black, only you and him existed in this close and intimate moment.

Seonghwa pulled away with a heavy breath, eyes lustful. You sat back with your hands on his shoulders, breathing heavily as well. Both of you felt alive, awake and alive despite not having gotten any sleep. Your eyes didn't leave Seonghwa's and you swore you saw the second his rounded eyes changed back to the colder and stoic eyes from earlier.

"...And you, still have a lesson to learn,"