#this is the prompt that I've been talking about btw

[marchsfreakshow]

Yeah, hi! See your soul mate au prompts, and if you're taking requests, how does Peter Maximoff with 18 sound? That feels like the kinda thing that'd fit with him lol ("God, why is Madonna stuck in my brain?! I didn’t ask for a private concert!" or smth like that).

Love your work, btw :3

Ugh, a love song?

Fluff!

Anon ur soso smart! I went with a song u can hear in Fallout. Cause, I've been obsessed with fallout recently!

Peter was the type of person to listen to anything. Anything in the world. But god, these Western songs were really ragging on him!

Marty Robbins, Eddy Arnold, Tony Marcus.. etc.!

First it was, Big Iron. No big deal. He liked that song. It was funny, and something he could just have a little dance to when he felt like he needed to expel energy. The earworm went on for a week or so.

Then it was Lone Star. Wow... possibly the most western song he'd ever heard. Why on earth were these random, 50s western songs suddenly getting stuck in his head? He'd never heard them before these weeks. ...He wasn't even from Texas like the songs says!

Finally, a complete 180 from Western songs. Crazy He Calls Me. Billie Holiday. That one was nice. That one was sweet. Cute a bit. After a few days though, it was starting to get a bit old. I mean, he'd never even heard the song on the radio before! Where on earth was it coming from?

Ah, you. One of his best friends. Just the person to talk to about this. Peter walked (zipped) his way over to you, standing behind your shoulder for a second. You were just organising your drawers, muttering a song to yourself. "...sure I'm crazy...crazy in love, you see.."

Peter couldn't help himself to taunt you behind your shoulder. "Like the wind, that shakes the bough.."

And a little jump from you, making you turn in your spot. "Jesus christ Peter! I hate it when you sneak up on me." Placing your hand over your heart for a moment to exaggerate the truth. "...I didn't know you knew that song."

"I don't. Not that well. It's been stuck in my head for weeks! Like the singer came back to life and decided to be stuck in my actual brain like a genuine worm or something! Oh my god, it's absolutely ridiculous at this point." Peter rambled on and on, talking about Billie Holiday and how he'd never heard her before this.

"I've been listening and humming like, a lot of 50s songs. Love songs and Westen songs. They're kinda cute."

Peter took a second. Woah. Hold on! Did you say you've been listening to songs from the 50s?? "Woah. Gotta say, I've been stuck with those songs in my head for like... forever."

"wait really?"

"yeah. Weird right?"

"totally weird."

You were both naive, and that seemed to be fine with the two of you.

[enhanced-operatives-division]

Junicrane/Starstruck Ramble

I will not be brief, all under the cut

To clear some things right off the bat:

No corpse, no proof with Juniper. Obligatory this is set in a canon where he's alive and adjacent to the agency in some way.

Reggie & Juniper are just gay to me, but I don't mind any interpretation of their sexuality

The games are set in 1967/68 to me (based on a couple bits in game) which is before it was legal to be gay in America at least (1971), which is relevant to how I interpret canon as being somewhat grounded in reality, despite unrealistic elements.

This is just an insane amount of headcanons/elements of and AU all culminated into one post. I will talk about some headcanons like they're just facts because they are established in my head, and it saves me over explaining literally everything, however I will explain some parts a little bit for clarity.

Alright. Actual beginning of the ramble:

Juniper is a character to me who had gotten so lost in his job as an actor and a social presence that in the end his whole life revolved around that 'role'. Because of this, by the time he's put into the situation where he's around the Agency, he basically knows nothing about himself, though he doesn't realise at first. Furthermore, what little identity he had has changed in so many ways. He's no longer a beloved famous actor in the prominence of public light, he's legally dead and he tarnished his career just before he was supposed to die, with the bonus of that making him lose the majority of his estate. From that, he also has horrific facial scarring from the electrical burns from literally having his face fried. I believe a friend of mine made a post about this a while ago (I also think they were the first to think it up also), but, to me, Juniper has a permanent trimmer in his right arm (aka his dominant hand) from the electrical current and it is messing with his nervous system.

All in all, he's not doing great, but he's too proud to admit that he's not doing great, because if anything, what's left of his ego is all he has as a defense since he's deep in unfamiliar water.

Before ending up around the agency (I have multiple interpretations of this, so I'm just going to bring it up generally), he'd never actually seen Reggie, and his only impression of him is a single voicemail, which was his only reference he had to later impersonate him. Juniper probably has very little feelings other than the ones he projects onto him because of Phoenix and that, at the very least, he's physically attracted to Reggie to some degree (that's like the beginning of how everything else would tumble into place in this sort of interpretation at least).

And on Crane's side? His feelings towards Juniper are probably very intense and muddled. On the one hand, he adores musical theatre, and that's his now ex-favourite actor. The thought of just casually being around him blows the bit of fanboy in him away at first because THAT'S the GUY, plus the inklings of a celebrity crush which still poke at him. And then there's the rational side of him, which knows Juniper has committed absolute atrocities on the side of Zoraxis, and hates him for that. Then there's how much Juniper comes off as an asshole at first because he refuses to cooperate with anything the Agency tried to put in place. He finds Juniper endlessly frustrating, and yet he's stuck working with him since, afterall, he's the one who knows the Agency's history with Juniper the best. I imagine him acting a lot like how he does IEYTD 1 around Juniper.

At this point, I'm just describing the pitch for a romcom.

I think the start of their relationship with one another largely started with Juniper trying to wind Crane up. It was a way of getting his attention, and I don't think Juniper knows why he's so dead set on that at first, because I don't think he realises he has a crush on 'this grump' at first. (I think that's actually the fun part about these two, because it's almost like a role reversal of the celebrity crush dynamic. This ex-big name actor has a TERRIBLE crush on an average joe and it is KILLING HIM.) But of course the Agency keeps them together because Juniper is at least conversing with Crane, so it's a start.

Through one way or another, they actually get talking casually, at least mildly at first. It takes Juniper a long time to fully deconstruct the wall he's built, and the thing is, Crane isn't the one trying to deconstruct it, at least at first, because yeah, Juniper realises if he wants Reggie to actually like him in any way, he can't keep winding him up. So they talk. Small talk at first, something rhythmic and almost easy to keep to a script. And over time that turns into actual conversations. Genuine ones in which Reggie rips out the occasional one of his jokes which Juniper is endlessly endeared about. The way he smiles just before he makes them, like he wants to chuckle at what he's about to say before he says it. That's probably when Juniper realised that he does have some vague crush on him, and that it wasn't going away.

This is what kickstarts John I can't-buy-you-things-to-impress-you-so-acts-of-service-it-is Juniper to do little things for him. It mostly starts off as him trying to make Reggie his tea how he likes it. However, the nerve damage in his arm makes that hard, as the weight of the kettle and trying to pour is hard all of a sudden. And he refuses to accept that, so he tries for a very long while. Long enough that Crane would go to investigate what was going on. And when he does see Juniper leaning over a cup with the kettle as he uneasily tries to pour it, and when Crane asks Juniper responds so matter-of-fact that his intention is nothing but genuine. And it catches Reggie off guard because Juniper hadn't done anything like that up to that point, and his very apparent vulnerability is so clearly on show.

It shifts something between them.

From that point on, conversations are longer, more familiar. Both of their attitudes soften, and Reggie makes more jokes. Juniper learns how to better use his left hand while strengthening his right back to a point where it could be used again. Slowly, they're both spending time with one another not because they have to, but just because they can. Little bits at first, not too far outside what they already were doing, but those little bits turned into long bits to a point where the other person's company was genuinely desirable.

As time passes, Juniper probably realises that he doesn't genuinely know much about himself or what hobbies he's into, because he never really had the time when he got big, and his home life in his youth wasn't bad, but it wasn't picturesque. I think Reggie would pick up on it, and absolutely try to introduce him to some things he's into. Some things stick, other things don't (corn husking very much stays Reggie's passion, and John will go with him sometimes because it's him, but it's not something he strongly cares for). Crane introduces him to a lot of music, and it's something that becomes a staple between them, with tracks they listen to more than others (tragically, I know relatively little about 60s music so I couldn't really say what). Occasionally they dance, never anything intense, think slow dancing, but the closeness is nice.

Through all of it, Juniper is battling the worst crush of his life, and he can't stand it, because I think he struggles to read people since he doesn't have anything like a script or a director to refer back to, so he has no idea if Reggie likes him back or if he's just desperate for that to be true. I think because of that any sort of confession between them would be incredibly raw, not only because of the time they live in making it hard for them to be truthful about how they love, but because it's a complete show of Juniper who's worked to be this better person. I don't exactly know how that would go, mainly because I don't have one set version of their dynamic, this post is just a generalisation of main consistent points.

Reggie does like him back, because he's gotten used to Juniper being just this guy, not a figure in the public eye, not a Zoraxis lackey, and not any sort of Agency operative (despite being under their care to some degree). He's someone he genuinely cares for, because they've given one another the time of day to learn one another, and I think because Reggie was a field agent, he was a lot better at reading Juniper than Juniper was at reading him. Eventually Juniper's company becomes something he could see around him for the rest of his life, and I think he accepts that he likes Juniper a lot more gracefully.

I think any affection directed at Juniper would at first be met with him feeling a little muddled. Reggie was a very physically affectionate person when he could be, and sure the initial flirting with one another came with the occasional little touches, but everything now was so deeply intentional. I also don't think Juniper would almost ever get over the novelty of being able to kiss him, or many other gestures, because it made the fact that they were together so very real, and it was great. I do think it comes easier to Reggie, and it's a big way of showing how much he cares, so it's important for Juniper to try and show it back because he knows how much it means to the other.

I like the idea of them eventually living with one another, too. I think Juniper would have always had a quiet little daydream of sorts where he does just live a domestic quiet life, and he can with Reggie (well, as close as they can get between the Agency and Zoraxis always being at odds), and he loves that, and he loves him, and it's immense.

I think they cook for one another a lot, it helps Juniper work on his dexterity in a controlled environment, which means a lot because it's a huge point of insecurity (that and his scars). He does improve, and Crane is proud of that and shows it and it's great. I also think they'd probably cook together too, because they can deal with being in the kitchen together and they work well with one another. It's probably a good way for them to unwind because over time they can do it in relative silence.

As I said before, I also think music is a staple in their household, and that Reggie listens to things on vinyl almost all of the time because he likes the background noise. Sometimes Juniper will catch him chuntering along to the music which he finds endlessly endearing. I wouldn't put it past his dramatic ass to also join in to fluster Reggie, but I also don't think Reggie would mind that terribly because Juniper has listened to the music enough to know the lyrics, and that's huge to him.

I don't think they are without rough patches, no relationship is, but I think the good part about them is that they're willing to talk about it (... eventually). They're used to long conversations, and while they're often less fun conversations, they're needed and they know that, and it works out.

Alright. I think I'm done for now. I haven't mentioned everything, but this definitely got the worst of it out of my system. If you ever want to hear any specific thoughts my ask box is open but other than that, behold my general dynamic for these two which has been festering in my head for years. I think they're great

[ethansmorgans]

Sooo.....should i post my slightly smutty etharah one shot for this day's prompt or how are you guys feeling about it...? is that allowed lol

[kyouka-supremacy]

What's your favorite song?

Can't believe I'm saying this but tw for emotionally charged themes

My favorite song is Meltdown by Iroha!!!! Specifically the 2012 YouTube reupload because the low audio quality adds to the song for me lmao (there's a slight audio difference between the original upload and the song as it's presented in successive album versions such as the Vocalostar or Vocalogemini albums, and I must admit I like the old one better). It's incredible how no matter how many times I've listened to it, hearing that song doesn't stop feeling like a spiritual experience. The music is so unspeakably good, the lyrics speak directly to my heart. And I love the Rin tuning!!! Despite being my favorite vocaloid character, Rin is far from being my favorite voicebank; that being said, Iroha's tuning of her is truly marvelous! Now, their Miku tuning is beautiful too, Moon is another wonderful song. But like, there's an infinity of Miku songs with gorgeus tuning, while I usually don't like most of Rin's tuning styles (then again, it's all up to personal preference really). Yet I absolutely adore the vocals of this song!!!! I feel like Rin is such an extremely fit, spot on choice for this song: it's so impactful to listen to such an emotionally charged song being expressed by a voicebank that's otherwise frequently used for cheerful, light-hearted songs; it really enriches the song by adding to the feeling of having lost the happiness of childhood and having to now face an indifferent and cynical world. I really like the nuclear reactor theme, it evokes such a beautiful imaginary!! The way it's clean, aseptic, lonely- I feel like the loneliness is such a central aspect of this song. This total, devastating feeling of loneliness that envelops the whole song- the impression of complete isolation and detachment from the world. The inability to connect while drowning in your own sadness, the way everything feels far and unreachable. But it's a kind of loneliness that's different from the heavy, black kind of loneliness, the one that leaves you depressed and upset, the one that comes with missing others; this is the kind of loneliness that leaves you numb, the loneliness of feeling that you could speak, even scream, but nobody would be able to hear, the loneliness of feeling like you're alone in the world. The feeling of being isolated, just Rin and herself, is so overwhelming in this song, it's beautiful! It's just her, and the ghost of who she used to be who she wants to kill, and her depression; she's helpless and alone in the universe. Sorry for possibly sounding redundant but it really speaks to me of how mental disabilities can effect people, of the immense struggle mentally ill people experience that keeps them from connecting with the outside world- everyone else don't even feel like people, they're just distant sounds and vague impressions (“On the other side of the veranda, // The sound of footsteps climbing the stairs” “A TV host // Someone there I just can't see // Their laughter echoes as it swells”).

And the beautiful way this loneliness ties with the always present theme of modernity, city, industrialization! It's present in the pv, in the folding skyscrapers of the song's logo, in the oh so beautiful lyrics that draw from an urban and industrial vocabulary and imaginary (“The city is filled with brilliant light” “The lighter's out of oil” and of course the nuclear reactor). The concepts of industrialization and individualization tangle in a way that, if I can dare to namedrop, is reminiscent of Max Weber's sociological theories, where rationalization leads to the world progressively becoming a senseless machine, a big mechanism sustained by causal laws; as well as Georg Simmel's portrayal of the Metropolis as a place that is so chaotic and filled with everything, nothing has value, where the individual is infinitely free and infinitely detached, infinitely lonely (the frenzy of the city being nicely represented by the song's countdown, by the crowded images of grey, faceless people in the pv, by the “everything seems to move so quickly”). Back to Weber, in Meltdown rationalization and individualization having a direct correlation in the way that the supreme achievement of technology, the nuclear reactor, is also the ultimate expression of isolation: Rin is infinitely alone in the reactor, which also represents the limbo between life and death.

Gosh, that was supposed to be a quick note on the loneliness as it's portrayed in Meltdown- that's just one of the many gorgeus themes the song tackles! Following up, Rin's conflictual relationship with her past self. Aah, if I don't feel that on an intimate level. She wants to kill her past self, because the knowledge that you'll never get that happiness back is too painful to bear, so you'd rather have it like that happiness never happened at all. Rin strangles her child self, clinically, emotionlessly; and little Rin stares back, calm, I like to imagine, almost pitiful. Rin hates that child, because if her young self had never existed, then she's wouldn't have to be there, she wouldn't have to put up with her current state of inescapable pain and depression, she would finally be free from all the suffering. And the song is all a silent scream about wanting to be liberated- the wish to be able to be free from pain, the wish to finally be able to sleep at night (“2AM, and I can't sleep” is one of the very first lines of the song). The song speaks about that tiredness that comes with depression; Rin just wants to disappear, not really out of tangible sadness or self-hatred, but to put an end to the draining feeling of weariness (“If I dive into the nuclear reactor // Then I'll be able to sleep as I did long ago”; please also notice the regret for what used to be and isn't anymore). The finding peace in disappearing, finding beauty in ending it all (“If everything is such a lie // Then it really would be better” “I want to dive into // a nuclear reactor // Surrounded by beautiful blue light”).

But finally, the reconciliation between Rin and her past self taking place in the song's bridge! The incredible shift in music, from hectic and cold to calm and soft, relieving. It's breathtaking. The incredible change in visuals! From the cluttered, distorted, fake, alienating visuals of the city and reactor to the simple, fully empty background of the sea. The coming to terms with accepting the duality of own's nature in the words “allegro, agitato”. The somewhat antique scenario of the building old Rin and young Rin are in, juxtaposed to the city and advanced technology of the nuclear reactor. And Rin taking the hand of younger Rin. And Rin with the dress of young Rin, giving in and crying desperate. It's all so mesmerizing! To think she was able to make up with her young self– the miraculously serene atmosphere. The finding the peace you'd never thought you could find. The finally accepting your past self, the stopping to hate them, the stopping wanting them to die and, by extension, stopping wanting yourself to die as well- it's beautiful! It's gorgeus, I love this song.

The way it all builds up to the climax of the Meltdown- seriously, the visible countdown of the pv is such a brilliant imaginary. THE CONSEQUENTIAL BREAKDOWN WHICH IS JUST, SO COOL. RIN'S UNRESTRAINED SCREAM, GOD. The fact that you literally can't get up untill you allowed yourself to fall!!!!! Rin reaching the lowest point and finally giving in to her pain - which she never allowed herself to, so numb, so empty, so emotionless - as the first, necessary step towards healing. The way it says no healing can start until one has reached the bottom of their desperation, the final point of breaking- but there's hope after that, you know? The desperation of Rin's scream, but how there's only going up after it- there must be.

The thing is, despite everything, despite everything, this really doesn't come off as a sad song to me. There's so much serenity, there's so much finality, there's so much peace in the ending. How could I not adore this with everything I've got? It's physically impossible. It says: you're broken beyond repairing, but you can still be. There'll come a day when you will come to terms with your child self, you will take them by the hand, you will stop hating them and hating yourself. Despite being so flawed and imperfect and a glitch in the system, you're still allowed to live. It's what I love the most, more than anything already mentioned; nothing, and this time I think I mean it, nothing hits me as hard as going “the world is broken; but meybe there's still a reason to keep living. Maybe there's still a way to be okay.” Her final statement is just so liberating for me: “A morning without me // Would be perfect // Where everything is in gear // That sort of world, definitely...” - a world without me would be perfect; and yet, her expression is so serene in the end. A world without me would be perfect; yet Rin doesn't take her life, she just accepts her imperfect presence in the world. A world without me would be perfect; still, I'll keep going on, just because! Just because maybe one day I'll be able to see that shore I saw when I was a child again, and maybe I'll see that happiness again.

It's. idk it's about the bitter side of deeply knowing the world would be better off without you, but finding the serenity of keeping living anyway. I strive to it. Just. the growing climax that leads to the inescapable breakdown, and the peace and tranquility of the ending. I want that peace and tranquility! I want to know everything is okay even if nothing is okay. I want to be able to find the will to live even despite knowing the world is ugly. I want to see that sunset at the end of the song!

Not to mention the pv visuals are stunning, I love them so much!! Rin's grown up design is fantastic, I love her black and white outfit... I feel like the white / black / yellow trichotomy it creates to be so impactful, a sort of visual representation of thesis / antithesis / synthesis. Everything about this song I feel like has the power to shake me to the core!!!! Project Diva's Reactor module (which was also designed by the pv's illustrator nagimiso) is truly beautiful as well, but for me it lacks the mature, disillusioned vibes of the original outfit- to me Meltdown is a lot about having lost one's childhood that goes together with having lost one's happiness, coming to terms with it and eventually finding peace in coming to terms with your past and your place in the world, and the new design juvenile vibes kinda miss that. And just AAAAAAAAA nothing I say could ever make the song justice which is very frustrating, but I love it tons!!!!! And the lyrics, sis, believe me when I say I could talk about them forever. They just have such a remarkable poetry to them! “In the scattering twilight // The sun is red, like teary eyes” “The words overflow from your // dried up lips, like foam” “so the memories melt away to white”. It's just that aaaaaaahhh Meltdown is *my* song, like no other song speaks to my soul like this one does. I love it so much.

Finally, you might also want to check out (personal favourites):

炉心融解 (Roshin Yuukai) (Hard-R.K.mix) - remix by cosMo (The Disappearance of Hatsune Miku -DEAD END-, The Intense Voice of Hatsune Miku) yr88's Cover ft. KAITO pv's illustrator nagimiso's pixiv

※ All the “me”s used in this text are purely referential. This text doesn't necessarily reflect author's personal views of life.

[slamminslamminmcgill]

Can you pretty please write a fic where Logan and Deadpool are having an argument about how they should be fucking the reader, like going over techniques while the reader is just drooling and mindless like “whaaa”

hell YEAH i love getting fucked stupid by big strong men >:3333€

this is a rly good prompt btw so i could GLADLY expand on this but for rn here’s a snippet 😌

warning: dp, painal, sadomasochism, mild transphobia, slurs, degradation, overstim, dubcon, daddy kink

anatomical terms: cunt/pussy/bussy

They talk about you like you’re not even there.

Well, physically you were right there with them. Mentally you were nowhere to be found, certainly not on their conversational level. Wade had been bouncing you in his lap for god knows how long. His cock in your cunt had thoroughly fucked your train of thought off the tracks. Your internal monologue was nothing but bitchy whimpers and primal burning for more. Welp. What do you expect? Back to back orgasms will do to that to you. You couldn’t even recall how the argument started, and context would’ve really been helpful.

“Wow! Okay! That’s a shitty thing to say to our guest! Wanna apologize and maybe try that one again, JK Rowling?”

"Oh, get fucked. That's not what I meant and you know it." Logan kept his firm hands on your shoulders, assisting your bounce, since your legs were damn near liquified.

“Mmmmm, ah, gah-fuuuck… Wh... Wha? Huh?”

“How is that not what you meant?" Wade, questioned, maintaining his steel grip on your ass. He felt that he had to protect you from the big bad wolf and his transphobia. "You just said he’s not a real man because he has a pussy. A tight, sweet, JUICY pussy that feels like a fleshlight full of microwaved angel dust. And yet SOMEHOW this makes him not a real man to you? Maybe you’re just not man enough for HIM, sugar-tits!”

"I said you gotta fuck him like a real man. You’re being too good to him. It's gonna fuel his ego, and I’m not letting you turn him into a spoiled brat. Fuck him in the ass, that'll teach him a lesson. Show him this shit ain't a joke."

"No way! Ass is ass is ass is ass. Everybody's got an asshole, peanut, and newsflash? They all feel the same. But this boy's pussy? This hot buttery premium A5 wagyu bussy that's—SQUEEZINGmyfuckingdicksotight, oh, fuck, fuckfuckfuck, angel baby, sweet boy, you feel so GOOD! Making your Daddy feel so good, good boy!"

Praise was easy enough to process. It didn't require any cognitive effort on your part. You didn't have to weigh in and have an opinion, you just have to take it, and be grateful for it. "Hah, fuck! Thank���thank you, Daddy! FUCK! Wade! WadeWadeWadeWade—WADE! WadeWadeWade..."

But Logan wouldn't let it go. "I'm serious. Make him take it up the ass, or I will."

“Un-be-lievable. You know something? You must be the one guy in this universe who could see a whimsical forest path that leads to a magical unicorn fountain, and says 'Oh, no, none for me. Let me go spelunking in the poop-chute, thank you very much!' And if that's not the single gayest thing I've seen in my entire—"

"WADE, SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

"Eeep!"

Oh, you poor thing. He nearly gave you a heart attack! It's terrifying when someone yells out of nowhere, especially when that someone has you naked and vulnerable in their hands. Logan had slammed you down on Wade's cock when he yelled, completely stopping the scene and trapping you between them. Woah. Time out. Shit has officially just gotten real. You and Wade held bated breath, and traded a glance that said "We're cooked. Nice knowing ya."

But Logan just laughed at you both. Delighted by the atmospheric tension he had just created.

"Heh... heh heh heh..."

Then he relaxed his grip on you, and those big strong calloused man hands started to explore. They massaged your shoulders, rubbed your neck and jaw, and groped and squeezed wherever they pleased. All the while, his hot breath, tinted with whiskey and malice, ghosted over the shell of your ear as he talked. He spoke very firmly. Targeted. Slow. He wanted you to get every fucking word.

"Listen, bub. I’m not about to question whether or not you’re a man, okay? But I’ll say this. When real men wanna take cock? It hurts. Oh, it hurts real bad. And most of ‘em don’t get the luxury of a cushy little cunt that’s meant to take a pounding. No, son. Real men get ripped apart by cock. It makes them cry and scream and sometimes their tiny little rims even bleed because of it. And you know what? They love it. They love how much it hurts them. Cause they’re men. Strong men. And you’re no fuckin’ better than them, you know that? You think just cause you got another hole that you can take the easy way out? Everything's gonna be peaches and cream, huh? Nuh uh. Not on my watch, you little shit. You wanna act like you're such a fag? Well then you’re getting fucked like one of us too."

…

…

…

“Jesus fucking Christ, babycakes, if you don’t want him up your ass I’ll GLADLY take the heat for you.”

[marthawrites]

Could you write smut for Aemond targaryen with the prompts 17,40,44,47,53 and 54 maybe with a targaryen reader? Just something gentle, sweet and soft <3 btw I’m talking abt this prompt list

I absolutely can! Apologies for making you wait since January for this. I hope you're still around to see (and, fingers crossed) enjoy it!

"Vok" (Perfect)

Aemond Targaryen x sister reader

Word count: 2.6k+

About: You and Aemond pledged to each other long ago. Tonight, beneath the blanket of darkness, you revel in each other's adoration.

Includes: SMUT. Featuring brother x sister incest, Aemond is soft but only to his little sister, dirty talk, female masturbation, guided masturbation, praise, unprotected vaginal sex, and a splash of breeding kink

Note: Hello lovely reader! It's been a hot minute since I've wrote Aemond - the posters and trailers have me going (affectionately) insane! Triple warning: this fic is brother x sister targcest. If you do not like that KEEP ON SCROLLING. This is my first time writing this dynamic. Reader is implied to have silver hair, pale skin, and purple eyes. Everything else is up to you! As always, I hope you enjoy this fic! ❤️

-

To the realm, Aemond Targaryen was the cruel prince. Aloof, stoic, unforgiving.

To the realm, he was an ambitious and willful young man who rode Vhagar, the largest and oldest dragon in the world–the same dragon who helped Queen Visenya conquer Westeros.

To the realm, he was the second son of King Viserys. And, as such, would play the game of nobility by putting duty above love–marrying outside of his Targaryen lineage to seed dragons further into the world.

To you, his little sister and second daughter of King Viserys, he was your protector. 

Your secret.

A poorly kept secret in some corners of the castle; nosy servants and their obnoxious fucking tendencies. But, with Aemond’s less than idle threats about cutting the tongue out of anyone’s throat who would speak about it, it ended up being a well-kept secret.

The second son and second daughter of the Dragon King; who better to love, and cherish, and pledge to, than each other?

Aemond would sooner die than see you marry off to some lowly lord of a “great” House. You were the blood of Old Valyria. Everyone–no matter their feats–was lowly in comparison to you. And you, his sweet sister, deserved only the best.

Barely a year separated your ages. Neither of you remembered a life without the other.

Long before you gave your maidenhead to your brother you gave him your heart. And your heart he held.

-

The night was late. These dark hours were some of the only unadulterated times you had together. Aemond kissed you slowly, passionately, gently stroking along your cheeks with his thumbs as he did. You were tangled in his bed together. You, stripped down to only your shift, and him, stripped down to only his sleep trousers. One of your shift’s thin straps kept sliding down your shoulder, and each time it did Aemond’s warm mouth kissed over the smooth lovely skin. You panted soft sounds–each feminine simper jolting right to his cock–as he lavished you in affection. 

“You’re kissing me silly, lēkia (brother). My head feels full of bees and I’m hot. So, so hot,” you whispered against his kiss-swollen mouth. “Will you not feel for yourself?” He hadn’t yet made a move to touch you where you really, truly, wanted him; something that had you whining and pouting. While his hands alternated between stroking your face and groping your body–waist, hips, thighs–yours were buried in his hair. It was all down and free. The silken sheet of it spilled over his shoulders, spilled over you, and you relished the feel of it inside your hands. Against your bare skin. “Please?”

“Please what, hāedar? (little sister)” He asked, voice mellow with just the right amount of rumble from his chest.

“Please touch me,” you answered, back naturally arching to press your soft body against the hard planes of his own.

Another low sound came from him. He pressed a warm, wide palm up the perfect curve of your back until he squeezed into the nape of your hair. “Such a pretty word from a pretty mouth. Have my kisses made you ache with need, byka zaldrīzes (little dragon)?”

“Yes.” The single word, its single syllable, rolled off your tongue before your brain even fully registered his question. You stared at him desperately. One eye was so beautiful; so ancient in its color and proclamation, just like your own. The other reflected faceted edges of the sapphire he wore in place of his missing eye. You didn’t know which was more enchanting.

“How long can you go, hm? Without me touching you?”

“W-what?”

He laughed. A rumble beneath his pale, taut chest. “How long before you succumb to madness by me not touching your perfect cunny?”

“Aemond…,” you whined. Pitiful. “Not much longer! Please, lēkia, I need you, please.”

A serpent’s grin curved his mouth and darkened his eye as he shifted positions with you. Now, he sat upright with his back against his headboard and pulled you to sit in front of him. 

You nestled between his legs, your back flush with his chest, and his stiff cock rested against the small of your back. A blush bloomed beneath your cheeks. You knew lust ran as wild in his veins as it did in yours.

“Tell me, sweet sister…,” he started, whispering by your ear. Both his hands cupped and squeezed over your breasts. Their softness melted against his palms and he groaned at the sensation. Perfect. You were so fucking perfect. “Have you touched yourself to peak before?”

A stammer replaced the little mewl in your throat. “H-how do you mean?”

He laughed again, pinching your nipples. “Mm… are you sure?”

Lust and need and fire roared in your blood to the point of almost drowning everything else out. “I d-don’t understand,” you admitted. But, it was a lie. You knew what he meant. You could only hope he’d go easy on you so you wouldn't have to admit, prove, or say you knew what he spoke of.

“Why are you playing shy with me, hāedar? I think you know exactly what I mean. There is no shame in it,” he spoke sly, hands pushing the hem of your shift up until he held the material in a fist upon your abdomen. With his other hand he tugged your smallclothes down your bare legs, tossing them off. The flats of all his fingers ghosted over your exposed cunt. Testing you. Feeling you. He hissed an inward breath. “Fuck–”, he growled. “‘Tis a good thing I was born a prince. Gods know if I had this wet little cunt between my thighs I wouldn’t get anything done. Ever. For how often I’d fuck myself silly on my own fingers.”

Aemond’s vulgarity sent a coil of tension wringing in your belly. Slick arousal pooled hotter beneath his touch. Your clit throbbed–the little pearl silently screaming for attention. “Yes,” you breathed, shuddering.

“Yes, what?”

Your older brother wasn’t going easy on you. “Yes. I… I know what you speak of. And.. yes, I do. Sometimes…,” you admitted with a wave of embarrassment.

Somehow he grew harder against the small of your back. He throbbed. “Show me,” he demanded.

“What! Aemond, no. Please, please, please no. Don’t make me show you.” Mortification replaced your previous embarrassment. Yet, your spine quivered with another rush of liquid arousal.

“I would love nothing more than to see how you bring yourself pleasure. Do you think of me when you do, byka zaldrīzes?”

You nodded. Dizziness warbled your brain. 

“Such a sweet perfect thing,” he cooed. He'd felt that nervous energy tense you. He also saw the exquisite thrum of your pulsepoint beneath your neck, too. Two sides of the same coin: carnal desire. When he spoke again it dripped with wicked passion. “Don’t be nervous, I'll guide you through it.”

It had been quite some time since you last brought yourself to climax all on your own. Aemond was always more than eager to give you pleasure. Tonight, however, something was different. Idly you wondered what it could be. Before you thought about it too much, Aemond guided your dominant hand to that delicate space between your thighs. You gasped at the sensation of your own touch. Torture never felt so divine. Your little bud sang as you circled it, rubbed over it. You sighed sweetly. “How did you make me so wet?”

It took controlled effort to not spill himself across your back at that very moment. “Spread your legs for me, princess. Let me see and hear what you’re doing.”

You obeyed. With your legs spread wider, now, it was all the easier to resume your previous motions. Flicking and rubbing over your bud felt divine–excited little sounds already spilled from your mouth. You ached inside, too, wanting–needing–to be stretched around something. The memory of Aemond's long fingers pumping into you while his thumb claimed your clit had your face hot. You couldn't reach those same spots he could. You bit your bottom lip, whimpering.

Aemond watched from above with a hungry lecherous eye. Beneath your shift he could see your breasts, slope of belly… and then further below, your creamy thighs spilled wide open. Fuck–he was so hard his back hurt. Your girlish sounds sent his desire blazing. “Your little clit is so achy, isn’t it? I know how much you like it played with,” he said by your ear. “Do you ever go inside?”

You nodded, allowing your head to fall back against his shoulder. You stayed on your pearl, still, legs tensing with bliss as it warmed and tingled your blood.

“Show me,” he growled again. “Be a good girl. And afterward? Don’t worry, I'll take care of you. Promise.” 

Without hesitation you pushed two of your fingers into your warmth. Your body squeezed around the intrusion, inner walls flexing, trying to pull them in deeper. A gasped moan left your parted lips. “I-I’ve never done this before.” You’ve never shown anyone this before is what you meant. Aemond knew what you meant.

“I know. Shh… it’s okay, I'll guide you through it.” He gently touched the top of your hand and relished your little tendons flexing with the effort of your self pleasure. He pushed–coaxing your fingers deeper, silently urging you along. More. 

Soon the wet sounds of your hand against pink swollen flesh mingled with your moans. Lewd. Dirty. You tried to stay quiet. You really did. But it felt too good, and Aemond’s hand on yours guiding you along had your toes curling. Of course he would help you. Of course he wouldn’t let you do it all on your own. “Aem..!,” you whimpered, hips rocking with your movements. “‘M close.”

“I got you,” he whispered, voice heavy.

As soon as your fingers found that little patch of hidden nerves along your walls, you weren’t able to hold on much longer. The bliss, all at once, became too much. Tension snapped in your belly as colors flashed behind your closed eyelids. Your legs trembled at the tip of your peak, and as you crested downwards Aemond held you tighter against him.

“Vok (perfect),” he said as he watched you. How perfect you were with your silver hair framing your face. How perfect you looked when ecstasy became too much. How fucking perfect your eyes were as they opened and locked on his, bright and glassy with excitement. 

You carefully pulled your fingers free and began to turn around to face him. Before you could, however, he held you tighter against him. Confusion furrowed your brow and whatever you were about to say was cut off by his impatience.

“I’m greedy, byka zaldrīzes. Go on, one more time. I know you can do it. Show me again how you peak.”

Without arguing you again settled back against him. You planted your feet along the outside of his legs, spilling your thighs open wider than they were before. You angled your hips to the perfect position and this time a third finger joined your previous two. This time you fucked yourself without shame–not that you held on to it long in the first place.

Aemond all but snarled behind you, absolutely ravenous at the sight of three of your little fingers pumping and curling up into your body. He moved a hand downward, too, and the pads of those fingers worked over your clit in time with your pumps.

“Gods! Aem–!” You quivered against him. The addition of his lascivious attention had your hips squirming. Wanton moans, no longer trying to stay quiet, had your mind blanking. Nothing existed outside of you and Aemond. Nowhere existed outside of the spaces in which your bodies touched. Climax found you faster this time. Your second orgasm had you crumbling against him. Sweat sheened your brow. Your face bloomed. Sated. You were wholly sated.

“Good girl,” he praised. “Such a good girl. Giving me exactly what I wanted,” he kissed you, stealing your lips in a kiss that had you floating all over again. You could have fallen asleep right there in his arms and been the happiest thing in the realm. Breaking away, he added, “now I’ve a promise to make up to you, hm?”

Honestly, you’d forgotten about it. But, now that he mentioned it, your belly did a silly little flop.

With great care, Aemond moved from behind you and stood. Offering a hand to you, he said, “take your clothes off and lay on your back.”

And with that, you both finally shed the last pieces of your clothing. 

Laying like he said, you leaned back on your elbows to prop yourself up to still see your brother. Spilled messy hair, tall lean body littered with nicked scars, sapphire eye on full display…hard cock blushed angry red with need. They say Targaryen’s are closer to Gods than men, and with the hearth’s orange light reflecting on his ivory form, you believed him to be a God.

Aemond thought the same about you as you laid there bathed in the moonlight and hearthlight. 

“Spread your legs for your lēkia, I want to see you.”

As soon as you did–proudly showing off the slick mess of two climaxes, Aemond pumped along his rigid length. Despite butterflies twirling in your belly, your smile up at him was purely feline.

To Aemond’s credit, his voice only broke slightly when he said, “get on your hands and knees.”

You did. You dipped your spine as low as it could comfortably go, propping your ass up for him. As much as he loved fucking you with your legs wrapped around his waist, you knew he loved this position, too. “Māzigon va, lēkia (come on, brother),” you purred. “Keep to your promise.”

In an instant one of his hands squeezed harshly into the fat of your hip while the other spread the meat of your ass apart. He planted one foot firmly on the bed, and the other stayed rooted on the ground. The position gave him more leverage, and power, and control as he loomed above you. With a flex of his entire abdomen he pushed forward; the hot stretch of your body around him had both of you gasping. “I plan on leaving a babe in your belly tonight, hāedar. That way mother will have no other choice than to wed us,” he groaned, pulling backwards only to snap his hips against the smooth underside of your cheeks once again. And again.

You fisted the sheets as Aemond fucked you. You moaned your delight at his words, nodding. “Yes, please,” you panted. “Faster,” you begged.

His thrusts were precise and brutal. The slap of your smacking skin was utterly depraved and you hated–no, loved–how it made you impossibly wetter. Aemond did too. “Already squeezing around me? Fuck–I’m not going to last much longer,” he said, strained.

You began to push back against him, meeting his thrusts halfway with a frenzied need to make him release. “Fill me. Fill me up, Aem,” you still begged, breathing heavily. 

He rutted against you with the same need–a primal haze taking over as his stones began to tighten. His fingers dented firmly into your flesh as he continued plunging in and out of you. Instinct to spill his seed built by the moment and soon he became sloppy. He grunted and growled, and with a final shove–cock buried as deep as it could be inside your walls–he spent against your body’s end. Pulse after mighty pulse emptied his spend into you. Stray strands of hair stuck to a sheen of sweat upon his forehead.

You joined him in peak; left boneless and exhausted after three orgasms. Even at the top of your bliss, and his, he never eased until you were both done.

Aemond pulled his softening length out from you and urged you to fall forward upon his bed. You followed his motion and happily laid there. Naked, glowing, and full. You reached a hand out to pull him to you. “Avy jorrāelan (i love you).”

Aemond easily settled next to you, scooping you into him. “Avy jorrāelan tolī (i love you too),” he said between slow, satisfied kisses.

-

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider a follow, and/or reblog, and/or letting me know as it all makes me vvvery happy! ♥

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Masterlist

Main taglist: @watercolorskyy @melsunshine @girlwith-thepearlearring @arcielee @barbiedragon @targaryen-dynasty @succnfuccubus @fan-goddess @schniiipsel

Aemond taglist: @darylandbethfanforever9 @bellaisasleep @aemondsblog @khaleesihel @sirenofavalon @doublesparrows @aemonds-fire @nikstrange @abbyandizzysmum @rafeism @lost-and-founds @castellomargot @avidreader73 @snh96 @boofy1998 @connorsui

[donetbhlmao]

every time i rewatch the bear i think about how sydney (often) actively resists opening up emotionally to/getting closer to carmy - more under the cut

moments that immediately come to mind:

when carm asks syd about her dad in s2 e2: she interrupts him and brings the convo back to food.

when carmy asks syd about her new place and how her dad is feeling about the move in s3: i don't remember the actual episode but she interrupts him again to talk about work. what was the reason!!!

when carmy initially asks about syd's mom in s2: she has shown that talking about her mom is difficult (see: her convo with marcus at her place when she made him a beautiful meal), so this could be ambiguous but i think still worth mentioning.

WHEN CARMY TELLS HER SHE LOOKS NICE IN S3: she immediately takes off her bow???? i havent been able to stop thinking about this beat because why does she do that. does she not want to be perceived by him that way? does she feel guilty because she just got back from meeting with another chef for another position (thereby potentially dissolving her and carmy's partnership)? WHY WHY WHY (also she's so real for this because i think it's at least partially meant to signal that she's uncomfortable with his attention if he's not going to accompany it with meaningful communication). yes she favors scarves in the kitchen and she was getting ready for work but i think there's something else going on and have been rotating this scene in my head like it's a rotisserie chicken.

the fact that she half-lied about why she came to work at the bear in the first place, and, relatedly, that he made the best meal she ever had: maybe carm caught onto this one but she doesn't ever openly tell him that she's a fan of his work (and that he made the best meal she ever had!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) i say half-lied because she almost immediately tells him that she knows who he is. so.

i've been thinking a lot about syd's feelings for carmy and how she likely fears emotional intimacy with him. it's a stark contrast to how easily she opens up to marcus or asks richie questions about his daughter or even mentors/becomes friends with tina.

carmy is deeply interested in syd as a person and SHOWS it - in fact the few times in s3 that he's civil to her is when they are not working in the stresses of the kitchen and he's asking her about her life.

i can't think of a time where syd asks CARMY about his family (remember - she asks richie about michael), and when he opens up (without prompting from her!!!) about michael being an addict to her she lightens the mood with a joke, and when he opens up about how donna was a nightmare and he's trying to reclaim cannolis, all she says is "whoa." (btw i actually love sydney because she's so emotionally stunted like that's my girl <3)

she will open up about sheridan road, and her fear of failure (so inherent to who she is and her motivations in the show!), but not so much about HERself and her personal life. it's fascinating.

an exception to this is when syd tells carmy to call richie and apologize - even then it's not syd "asking" per se, but it is her taking a step and knowing what's best for carmy (and the kitchen) in that moment.

i think this is meant to indicate how carmy is different from everyone else in syd's life - almost like he doesn't "fit" into any of the other boxes she has for people.

now, i personally read this as romantic. there's something BIG blocking sydney from accepting that, though, and i think it's that carmy is so tied to her passion, her profession, her LIFE'S WORK, and she will not, cannot, fuck that up. we all talk about claire being an obstacle to a potential romantic connection between the two - and she is - but i truly think sydney's unwillingness to confront her interest in carmy is a bigger, more substantial hurdle (though not at all impossible to overcome!)

[imababblekat]

Accidental Eavesdropping?

Anon request, "Hey!!! Love your blog and your writing style, it’s amazing and so detailed!!! Can I request Bayverse TMNT Spider-man Au, where the turtles and spider-y/n are in a battle with Bepop and rocksteady. And in the last moments of the battle, spider -y/n saves the turtles but gets unmasked in the process. (They live) If you don’t want to do that idea! You can either delete this OR A moment where the turtles start talking about y/n and they don’t even realize that they’re talking TO THEM!!! This was funny to me for some reason lol 😂"

A/N: Aw thank you, anon! ;v; I went with the second prompt, btw. Leans towards Raphael x reader, but it's mentioned/hinted that the other turts also got the feels for reader. Any who's, I hope you enjoy! <3

◌(s,p) = spider persona◌

~xXx~

You're swinging over traffic, indulging in a rather quiet night despite the sounds of honking vehicles and other night life, when a sudden warm fuzzy feeling beams from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. It's not your spidey sense per say, but something akin to it, all you know is that it's a good sense and you follow it with glee. It doesn't take long before the feeling is buzzing and you see the source of the feeling chilling atop a pizza parlor. Well, more like sources. You let out a small giggle, noticing that the four ninja turtle brothers seem to be in some sort of deep conversation or debate.

"Hey guy's, what's going on?!", you greeted, swinging in next to a steaming Raphael.

"Oh you know, just the daily sibling teasing while we wait for our pizza to be made.", Donnie shrugged, watching as you and Mikey did your secret handshake.

"Yeah? Let me guess. . ."

The eyes of your mask squinted as you pretended to skeptically look at all brothers before looking at the glaring gaze of Raphael next to you.

"Is Raphie suppressing his emotions again?", you chaffed.

Said turtle rolled his eyes, shifting his weight to one side as he growled.

"Great, just what I need. And don't call me that."

"Come on, I'm sure I can help! What's up this time big guy?"

Leo chuckled, gaining your attention while Raphael sent him a warning glare from behind you.

"Raph's got a crush on our friend."

At this your eyes widened, a small gasp escaping you as you looked between the two eldest brothers in excitement.

"No way! Who?!"

You're question went ignored as Raph threw his arms up, cheeks flushing a light hue of embarrassment.

"All I said was they smelled nice, and y'all chuckle heads suddenly think I've been struck by cupid or some mushy crap!"

"You complimented them, Raph.", came Leo's retort.

"I compliment people all the time!"

Everyone remained silent, giving the hot headed turtle deadpanned expressions.

"What? I do. Right (s,p)?", he asked turning to look down at you.

You merely shrugged.

"Sarcastically maybe."

Raph huffed, leaning back against the buildings ledge, you hoping up to sit next to him.

"So is anyone gonna tell me who this mysterious person is or nah? Come on people, I want the tea."

Mikey, idly spinning his nun-chucks, grinned widely.

"It's our friend, (y,n)!"

You sat rigid, mask eyes wide once more.

". . .Who now?"

"Oh you haven't met them.", Donnie waved off, checking his turtle made watch to see the remaining wait time on their order.

Raphael clicked his tongue, still slightly aggravated about his brothers earlier teasing. Meanwhile, you still sat frozen beside him, staring into the abyss with a racing heart.

"I still don't have a crush on them.", he muttered.

"You complimented them on their perfume!", Leo loudly pointed out once more.

"Why is that so weird?!"

The two started to banter once more, Mikey enjoying the show while Donnie threw in a few matter of facts to weigh in on Leo's side. You, however, felt never more thankful than in that moment that you wore a full face mask. If it wasn't for the coverage, surely the ninja brothers would see just how closely the color of your face matched Raphaels mask right now.

Raphael growled, fed up with his brothers ganging up on him and his definitely non-existent crush on you. If they were going to call him out, then he would do the same to them.

"Maybe you guys should get off my shell and jump on yours first! I ain't the only one whose been makin' googly eyes at (y,n)."

You just about fell off the side of the building, hands gripping the edge of where you sat, knuckles definitely white beneath your suit. What is happening right now, is all you could terrifyingly but blushingly think.

Leonardo and Donatello were quick to look anywhere but at Raph, trying their hardest to not blush themselves at their brother's call out.

"I seen the way you put on the macho charm, Leo, bowing extra deep and all your swooning romance book crap when they come over. And you, Donnie, sputtering and dropping shit when they try to help you with projects and their hand accidentally brushes against yours. And Mikey. . ."

All eyes focused in on the youngest of the bunch who sat ready and waiting to hear Raph's jest.

"Actually, Mikey you're not that surprising. You think anyone who gives you food is a gift from heaven."

"Hey, it's not my fault their cinnamon rolls are so good!.", Mikey pouted, bottom lip jutting out adorably.

Leonardo shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose before turning towards you.

"What do you think, (s,p)? Are we over analyzing or are we right?"

The boys eagerly waited for your answer, for your input. Surely someone from the outside would be able to better determine the situation the brothers found themselves in. Well. . .should have been able to more like, as the response you gave was not what they were expecting.

A rushed, "Igotgo!!!", was all they got before watching you thwip away at the speed of light, leaving the turtles to look at each other confused and quizzically.

". . .Wait, so you guys don't have a crush on (y,n) too??", Mikey questioned with furrowed brows, innocently confused by how they could not.

Raphael groaned loudly as he and his brothers devilled into another childish debate on why they totally didn't have feelings for you, a familiar smell that had sparked the argument coincidentally wafting lightly into their senses upon the wind in the direction of which you swung off.

~xXx~

[reiderwriter]

hii!! can you do 49 and 68 please??? i love ur writing so much btw

prompts: #49 - "I'm so fucking obsessed with you." #68 - "Sit on my face."

A/N: Thank you for much for requesting! Munch Spencer for the win once again! Not to sound like a broken record, but I think I'm physically incapable of writing a smut that I dont somehow become obsessive over 🫡 I hope you like it!!

Warnings: possessive Spencer, oral sex (f receiving), multiple orgasms, alight come play, penetrative sex, creampie, just some very obsessive writing ngl. 18+ MINORS DNI (that means do not interact for those of you who still don't understand!!)

You weren't sure if you were going to give into him.

You know it'd taken a lot of courage for the man to ask you out, you'd seen first hand that he threw himself head first into relationships, and that meant he was entirely careful about kindling them.

But you'd been so shocked by Spencer Reid's admission that he was romantically interested in you that you'd all but gaped at him the entire time he stood there talking you through it.

After he'd finished, you still didn't know what to say, you just knew that your entire body was aflame with the words he'd dropped in the space between you, and you were vaguely aware that your phone had clattered to the floor, forgotten.

��Y/N, what do you say? Will you let me take you on a date? Please?”

He stood fidgeting in front of you and you almost apologised but your tongue still wouldn't move accurately.

You swallowed, and calmed your heart from the tempest it was running through in your chest to answer him.

“I need some time to think. We work together, it's going to be complicated and I want to make sure I think this through.” He'd politely agreed to that and seen himself out of your apartment, having appeared on your doorstep at near midnight on a work night.

And two weeks later, you were no closer to your answer.

But Spencer seemed to have grown bolder in his advances. He seemed to have taken your entire plight of never realising he was into you to heart, though. Because you sure as hell knew where he stood now.

He used every excuse to put his hands on you.

He came up behind you, putting his hands on your waist as he slid past you, moving you this way and that to arrive at his intended destination.

You'd found that a most annoying male trait in the past, but when Spencer attempted it, you practically leaned into his heat, shivering each time his hands brushed you.

He'd taken to brushing your hair out of your eyes as well, tucking it behind your ear in front of others, and, embarrassingly enough, tying it up for you with one of his own hair elastics.

You'd frozen in the moment as you leaned down to examine some footprints on a case, complaining your hair was in your face as he immediately came up behind you and began gently pulling it up himself.

His fingers moved skillfully, and felt soothing on your scalp as he made sure to get every hair.

You couldn't even say a word of thanks as you sat there wondering what the fuck had just happened, and if anyone else had been witness to it.

Luckily, no one had, and you could only contemplate it alone.

And contemplate it you did. In bed. In the shower. In your sleep. You couldn't stop contemplating it.

You couldn't seem to step over the boundary of professional working relationship to more, though.

So you weren't exactly surprised when he showed back up on your doorstep a month later.

“Spencer. Did something happen?” you breathed a slow sigh as you opened the door to see him standing there, still and tense, as if he was ready to spring an attack at any second.

“I'm obsessed with you.” His voice was low as he took a slow step forward, letting his gaze rest on your lips, and not moving it as he continued his path forward.

“I'm obsessed with you and I've tried to show you that for the last month, and god, please you have to please release me from this if you can't accept it.” He took another step closer and then he was in your apartment and closing the door behind him, blocking out the cold that had your nipples hardening. You assumed it was the cold.

“I think about how you would taste daily, how you would smell, how you would feel wrapped around me, the sounds you would make. I think about any other man getting close to you and I feel angry and sad and my chest physically aches.”

“I think about how I could make you happy, how you'd smile at me every morning,” his hand hesitantly reached up to tuck another stray hair behind your ear as he stuttered through yet another confession.

He was close now, so close your back was pressed against a wall as you resisted your chest meeting his.

“I will leave and never mention this or touch you again if you can't take that on, but if even one part of you thinks this is an experience you want…”

You finally looked into his eyes as your fingertips rushed forward to touch him, darting out to feel his chest and press yourself further into his warmth.

The physical confirmation must have been enough, as in moments his lips were dropping to meet your own in a sweet, but still strong kiss.

He moved achingly slowly as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you further in to his atmosphere, taking each small caress as an indulgence, each run of your lips across his as a blessing coated in lust.

He went so luxuriously slow, that you had to be the one to pull him in closer, to give into the passion threatening to throttle you from inside out.

You tugged him back through your apartment to your bed, making sure to rid him of his coat as you went, lips still exploring each other as you did. His hands held you firmly, wrapping you up in a strong embrace even as you needed him to move faster, to touch, caress, tease, and pleasure you.

You pushed him away when your back hit another wall, only so you could get some air between you as you waited for the next logical step in the direction you were headed.

“Spencer, I want you to make love to me.” You always hated that phrase, feeling it was so cheesy and overly sentimental, and yet that was the only way you could describe what you wanted from him.

He looked at you and suddenly, it was as if a flip had switched inside him. His slow, discovering kisses became bruising and hot as he marked his way down your neck, eager to please and desperate to know all of you. Your body was another book Spencer needed to read, more knowledge for him to acquire and never forget, never let go of.

Gently raising you off the ground, he pinned you against the wall, as you wrapped your legs around his waist, feeling his notable arousal through his clothes. He began divesting you of yours, the casual t-shirt you'd slipped into after work being easy work for his hands, sweatpants following suit as he memorised every inch of flesh visible to him.

With two hands firmly cradling your ass, he made his way into your bedroom, and sat on the edge of the bed, you in hand. Your core rubbed over his cock, and a deep dissatisfaction crept up your body. You were empty and you wanted so badly for him to fill you.

Your need became a great force clawing at his clothes, rocking your hips into him needing as you scrambled button after button, wishing your hands would obey your mind.

He groaned under you, the sound catching you off-guard and flooding your panties even more. He caught your hips and steadied your pace as you worked yourself up to a high without ever having fully touched him.

“Y/N…” He breathed it out like a prayer and a curse combined, pushing your hips down tighter as he tried to put an end to your elicit movements.

“Y/N stop, I want…” His lips finally left your neck as he took a deep breath, opening his eyes to look directly into yours.

“Sit on my face.” It was a demand, one that wouldn't be ignored, and honestly, you weren't sure you wanted to ignore it.

He laid himself down more comfortably on the bed, pulling you down with him as he stroked small circles into your lower back.

His hands worked down until they reached the waistband of your panties, hooked a finger under them and slowly dragged them off your ass, forcing your hips up to get them further away from his prize.

“Please, Y/N. Please sit on my face.” You moaned at the request again, dropping one final messy kiss to his lips before climbing up and over his head.

You completed the job he started with your underwear, deciding to go the extra mile and discard your bra as well. He wrapped his hands around your thighs and shifted your cunt to better suit his own position, and you braced yourself as he pulled you closer to his devilish tongue.

The first swipe of it was so foreign that you almost bolted upright like a cat dropped into a bathtub. But he held you fast and pulled you right back down as he began his meal. He'd said his prayers, and now he was ready to indulge himself in the taste he'd been craving for the last month.

You braced your hands on the metal headboard of your bed, thankful that you lived alone as you knew there was no way of muffling the noises that were beginning to toll off your tongue.

Head thrown back in pleasure, it was all you could do to not beg him to never stop, to keep up your pleausure for eternity, even as he left himself unsatisfied and rock hard.

Everytike you pulled slightly back from the stimulation, he pulled you even further in, until you were sure he couldn't breath, his mouth and nose so lost in your heat and so intent on your pleasure.

You almost forgot it was his face below you, and started desperately riding him, grinding your clit into anything that would allow for some friction.

Every few minutes he came up for a larger breath, letting his fingers slip inside you as he explored your every reaction.

There was only so much you could take, and apparently tongue and fingers was just that step too far, as you let your body convulse over him.

He let you ride it out, drinking in every drop of juice that escaped you, finally getting that taste he'd become so obsessed with discovering.

When you finally pulled away, his lips and chin were slick with your arousal, and his face was awash with desire.

A tiny push had you on your back as he crawled up between your legs again, taking the time to unclassified his pants and pull them off, discarding them along eith the shirt you'd so painstakingly unbuttoned for him.

“I am going to make love to you, Y/N, and you are going to be mine. You'll always be mine.” His forehead rested against your own as he finally slid inside of you, sheathing his whole cock inside of you as it expanded with his intrusion, trying to find room for him.

He fit like a glove, provided the glove felt this fucking good, so warm and comforting to know he was filling you completely.

His thrusts began and you were almost overwhelmed by the sheer arousal he inspired in each heartbeat.

Wanton moans left your mouth as words failed you, tongue lolling about as you desperately wished he'd slip his head down to let you taste yourself on him.

“I love you so much, Y/N,” he said, tightening his grip on your hips so much you were sure his nails were going to leave tiny crescents carved into your very bones.

Your second orgasm snuck up on you, hips suddenly jolting up as if they'd a mind of their own, milking his cock as he whimpered at the sudden tightness.

“Y/N, I love you. I love you, I love you I love you so much,��� the words were overwhelming as you struggled to speak through the after shocks of your climax, legs still twitching even as he spilled his seed inside of you.

“Now you're mine,” he whispered into your ear as he again found a stray lock of your hair and tugged it right back behind your ear, as if it would help you to see him that much clearer.

Your vision was already so filled with him though, that you were sure it would not matter how far he was or how obstructed your view, he would be the only thing you saw for the rest of your life.

Maybe you were a little obsessed with him as well.

[yan-lorkai]

Hi!! I loved your hcs of the Octotrio with a yuu that seems to only have a talent in art. I related to it a lot because sometimes I feel like I’m not good at anything else other than drawing.

I was wondering if you could do the same prompt with Riddle, Ace, Deuce, Cater, Leona, Malleus & the Scarabia boys please? If that’s too many you can just do Leona, Malleus, & Scarabia. Thank you 😊

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: I guess everyone has one of those episodes, huh? I've been writing for more than 8 years now and sometimes I get hit by the "aa but I'm only good at writing, I should totally try something" and then I try something new and hate it bcs I really love to write and nothing can compare lmao. Anyway, I hope you like this darling, I did all the characters requested too btw ~

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Ace would be playful and encouraging, but his competitive nature would lead him to manipulate situations to keep you close. He’d play little tricks to make sure you stay dependent on him, offering "helpful" critiques that subtly undermine your confidence in anything but your art. His lighthearted facade would hide a deeper need to be the center of your attention, he is your muse, the one you use to practice, the who inspires you, making sure that you see him as the only one who truly understands and supports you, all while ensuring you don't realize how he’s subtly sabotaging any other talents you might want to try to explore, for he fears you will not want to spend more time with him anymore if that was the case.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Cater would use his social media prowess to make you art the talk of the school, ensuring your work — and by extension, his support — is always in the spotlight. However, his validation would come with a price, as he subtly isolates you from others, creating an environment where you feel your art is only appreciated by him and his curated audience. Cater’s charming persona would hide his darker intentions, as he manipulates your into believing that your worth is tied to the art you create under his influence, all while keeping you emotionally dependent on his constant praise. You're already good at other things, so surely you don't need to have another hobby, right?

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Deuce, unlike Ace, would be fiercely protective of your artistic talent. He’d encourage your art with an almost desperate intensity, pushing you to try different brushes and pens, different scenarios and things, but he'd also pressure you to stay focused on what your good at, ensuring you don’t waste time on things you never tried before. His possessiveness would manifest in his need to be your protector, to the point where he'd become intimidating towards anyone who tries to steer you away from your art, that does not apply to yourself, while he think your drawings / paintings are very beautiful, he would not force you to make it more if you're having an episode where you doubt your skills and think you are good only on the art field. If you want to explore new things, Deuce will be by your side the entire time.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Riddle would be intensely supportive yet controlling, pushing you to perfect your craft while ensuring you don't stray too far from his strict rules, even more if you are already his lover. His obsession with your success would become borderline suffocating, as he constantly monitors your progress and enforces discipline to keep you on the right path, nurturing your already beautiful talent. To Riddle, your art is flawless, it's personal and have a touch of you in every drawing, be it digital or traditional. When you come to tell him about your doubts, about how you're only good at art, Riddle promptly sooth you with gentle words, albeit he is a little awkward while talking. He offer to teach you about whatever you want to learn but be prepared because he is somewhat a strict teacher.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Leona would admire your dedication to your art, and he would ask questions about it too, learning as much as your interest as possible. However, his possessiveness would be almost primal, keeping you close under the guise of protection, ensuring you don’t waste time on anything — or anyone — else. Leona would be dismissive of your attempts to explore other talents, reinforcing that your art is the only thing that matters. His control would be subtle yet overpowering, as he ensures your world revolves around him and your art, leaving you with little room for anything else.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Malleus would shower you with endless admiration, captivated by your artistic talent, even more if you were influenced by an artistic movement. He'll notice all the little details, the subtle way the traces converge, how the color scheme is perfect, the way the shadows and the light reflect. He is your number 1 fan, so supportive of you. However, his intense fascination would drag you into his lonely world, where your art becomes your only outlet and he is your audience - though he has your drawings framed and hung on the walls of the castles, so everyone can look at it and admire. Malleus may not understand your struggles and why would you want to pursue another hobby, but he can arrange anything you may want to try at least once, from singing and dancing to sewing and knitting, even the art of potion making, archery or fencing. He just know you're going to find something you like as much as your art, and if you are happy so is he.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Jamil would secretly nurture your talent, subtly guiding your creativity while undermining any attempts you make to excel elsewhere, he sees your art as something free and with many meanings - it makes him relaxed in some sort of way and Jamil wants to be a little greedy here, he wants you to continue creating more pieces, always keeping you under his watchful eye as you started drawing / painting. There's just something so intimate, so calming about it he can't wrap his head around. He loves watching you creating your art, feeling is guard lowering just a little. If you ever approach him with your doubts, Jamil take you to the kitchen so he can teach you a few things about cooking. It's a different kind of art but when all is said and done, it's just as good as when you're creating and make you feeling accomplished.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Kalim would be so overwhelmingly supportive and enthusiastic about it, showering you with gifts and opportunities to nurture your artistic talent, buying everything you may need to create your art, a new software? Sure, no problem, he brought the most expensive one too. A few new pencils and pens? Right away. You need more frames and paints? It will be here in a couple of hours. However, his naivety mixed with possessiveness would lead to unintentional control over your life, as he tries to keep you happy and close by his side. Kalim’s well-meaning gestures would create a gilded cage, where your art flourishes but your freedom is slowly stripped away. He would be oblivious to the suffocating effect of his love, believing that as long as you're happy creating art with him, nothing else matters, leaving you feeling trapped and not knowing how to communicate with him. He have done so much for you already!

[sun4r1nnity]

Hi do you happen to take a request. If you up for it can I request fratboy atsumu and make it hurt/comfort wheter it's misunderstanding cz you know he is so popular or anything that you like. Love your job btw and you can ignore my request if you are not into it ♡♡♡

a misunderstanding between fratboy!atsumu and fem!reader.

hurt, comfort, vulgar words used.

note: hello! thank you so much for the request. sorry this took long, these weeks has been so busy and i've only got a chance to write it this afternoon. this hits hard while im writing because i experienced the same thing, but instead of reassurance i got dumped lol XD. i hope you enjoy my own interpretation of this prompt.

more fratboy!atsumu here!

dating fratboy!atsumu is wonderful, yet it comes with consequences.

the constant social events, the parties, and being under the scrutiny of his frat brothers can be overwhelming. however, the fear of not being enough for someone as popular as atsumu is your greatest concern. atsumu has a bunch of girls lined up for him, ready to take your place should the relationship end. you feel guilty of thinking this way, because your boyfriend has made it clear how much he loves you. the thought is slowly eating you up, and how bad it affects your emotions lately. you'd be so sensitive, which causes you to lash out on him for small or no reason at all, but you're grateful of how atsumu never once gets mad, instead offering reassurance you needed.

the atmosphere is vibrant with the crowd at the party, the sound of loud music, and an array of drinks and food spread out on a large table. you hadn't intended to go to a frat party with atsumu tonight, but you find yourself here regardless because it's suna's event. suna has always been nothing but kind to you, and you get along with him well, so it would feel rude not to attend tonight.

atsumu had left you on your own, engaging in conversation with his friends somewhere. as you mingle with familiar faces, trying to shake off the doubts in your mind, you catch a glimpse of atsumu across the room. he's talking to a girl, one you dont recognize. your stomach turns as you watch her, admiring her beautiful features and you suddenly feel ugly having her presence near you. not to say how sexy she looks, casually slaying any style that she wears. she's standing close to him, her body language open and flirty. she laughs at something he says, placing a hand lightly on his arm. atsumu smiles back at her, seemingly enjoying the conversation. the sight sends a jolt of jealousy through you. your heart was aching, so you decided to step outside to feel some fresh air. as you make your way to the door, you hear a couple of atsumu's frat brothers talking nearby.

"man, atsumu's only with her because she's safe. she's not like other girls, you get what i mean?"

"yeah, i give it a month before he gets bored and moves on. probably after he fucked her first, heard that she's a virgin," one of them said, earning chuckles from his peers.

"dude you seen the girl atsumu's talking to? man she's hot as hell, i bet he gets his cock wet with her instead of his girlfriend,"

the words sting, like salt on an open wound. you feel tears welling up in your eyes as you quickly leave the party. the fresh air outside does little to soothe the ache in your chest. you walk home, with every step feeling heavier than the one before, hurt and confusion swirl through your mind. you didnt care about atsumu who's still at the party, he can go have fun with his 'new girl'.

it wasn't long before atsumu came looking for you, only to realize that you had already left. "dunno dude, but i saw her crying when she got out of the house, i didnt ask because i thought you two had an argument or something," said a guy from atsumu's fraternity. what did he do? he thinks. not before his twin started asking the same thing, and he swore he felt like his life is on the line. "what the heck did ya do?" osamu's tone is mad, and he's second away from grabbing atsumu's collar and bash his head into the wall. "i dont know! i was just talking to midori and- " his eyes widen, finally realizing the reason why before smacking his head into his palm repeatedly. suna shakes his head. "better go now man, dont wanna mess up this one, yeah?" suna advised, patting on atsumu's shoulder before the blonde dashes outside and drove off.

atsumu's texts and calls remained unanswered. you activated do-not-disturb mode, silencing any notifications and calls from your boyfriend. your feet ached from the lengthy walk, and you regretted the impulsive decision you made earlier. suddenly, a honk startled you, and you turned to see a familiar vehicle—atsumu's car—slowing down to match your walking pace. despite this, your pride was unwavering, and you quickened your steps. atsumu's voice, calling out your name in an attempt to halt your progress, was audible.

"(y/n), baby! come on now!" he pleaded, but you continued to ignore him. striving to walk faster, the discomfort in your feet intensified. then, the sound of his car door closing followed by the approaching footsteps indicated he was coming after you.

"babe! c'mon, listen ta me," he pleaded, his voice filled with desperation. you kept walking, your emotions a whirlwind of hurt and confusion. finally, atsumu caught up to you, gently grabbing your arm to stop you. "please," he said, his voice softer now, "just let me explain,"

you stop, reluctantly turning to face him. his eyes were filled with worry and regret. "im sorry, m'kay? i didnt mean to make you feel that way," he began, his voice cracking slightly. "im sorry baby, midori is an old friend, and we have nothing going on, whether its in the past or now, we never had anything together,"

you looked away, the pain still fresh in your heart as you recalls those hurtful words you heard. "your frat brothers, they said some hurtful things. they said how you're only with me because im safe, and you're going to leave me right after you take away my virginity. and, how you're probably fucking with her behind my back,". you were choking back tears, overwhelmed by a wave of pain and guilt. "i feel worse, tsumu. i hate how i feel like im in a competition with all the pretty girls waiting for you to break it off with me, and- , and how im afraid im not enough with you, and you will leave me because you realized im not what you wanted,"

atsumu's grip on your arm tightened slightly, his eyes pleading for you to understand. he'll deal with those assholes later, right now his only concern is you. "fuck, 'm so sorry, sweetheart, im sorry," he said. tears welled up in your eyes. seeing your struggle, atsumu pulls you into a gentle embrace, his warmth offering a sense of comfort amidst the turmoil. "that's not true at all, my love for ya is genuine, those guys dont know shit about me, fuck," atsumu said, his tone filled with desperation and a slight anger. "yer perfect fer me, i fucking love ya so much. yer always be more than enough for me baby, so fucking gorgeous, perfect in every way, dont doubt it alright?" he confessed, feeling his eyes burning with tears.

"im so sorry. i should have noticed how ya were feeling," he murmured into your hair. "im here now, 'm not goin' anywhere. we'll get through this, i promise,"

you finally relax yourself in his arms, the hurt slowly beginning to fade. the raw honesty and vulnerability in his voice reassured you, and you felt a glimmer of hope.

the drive home was slow and filled with more heartfelt conversation. atsumu held your hand the entire time, his thumb gently rubbing the back of your hand as he reassured you of his love and commitment. by the time you reached home, you felt lighter, the misunderstanding serving as a catalyst for a deeper connection and renewed trust.

[wonuwrites]

Seventeen In The Beginning Stages Of A New Relationship x

saw someone do an ask in someone elses inbox and thought this would be fun to write about. Especially since I've been writing SO much angst lately. It would be nice to have some teeth rotting fluff :)

Prompt: How would Seventeen Members be in the beginning stages of a new relationship?

Warnings: really fluffy, sfw version so sorry no horny time, minors still don't interact tho~, pet names, potentially cussing because that's the person I am. idk if you like cute shit you might not like this.

ღ S Coups: super soft, complete opposite of how he usually is.

Almost all of them are the type to be "down bad" but holy shit Seungcheol is on another level.

Thinks that you are royalty and treats you that way.

He holds the door for you.

Opens the car door for you and puts his hand above your head so you wont bang your head.

He will be the best bag and umbrella holder.

He always walks to your front door with fresh flowers before each date.

Has a million compliments running through his mind but too shy to admit them all because he's afraid you will run away.

The first time you interlocked your fingers with his, he almost died.

Like his heart almost backflipped out of his chest and he just felt electrified.

He has a list of things you like saved to his phone so he can 'surprise' you out of the blue.

I can see him thinking long term pretty early on in your relationship.

You just are so important to him as he is to you.

ღ Jeonghan: super shy but can't help but tease still.

Jeonghan would act like it was the other way around but he was SO wrapped around your finger.

When you weren't looking he would be sending you the biggest heart eyes.

He'd constantly wonder how the hell he got so lucky to have someone like you.

He would want to be next to you all the time.

Sometimes he'd forget time was a thing and would send "goodnight" texts after practice or schedules.

Sometimes that would be like 3 in the morning and then he'd triple text an apology.

Luckily you would find it precious.

But not as precious as he thought YOU were.

He would always have a smile plastered on his face when he was around you.

He just thought you were so neat.

ღ Joshua: insane yet a gentleman

Listen, Joshua is insane but he's a gentleman. Especially to his baby.

When you agreed to be his, he felt like he won the lotto.

He would so mindful of you.

He would want to know everything about you.

As long as you were comfortable with it though.

TBH he would either do big gestures or little ones. No in between.

He would make you a bracelet with both of your favorite colors.

He would love to talk on the phone with you.

Especially at night after a long day of practices.

Even though he MUCH rather be with you in person, your voice is music to him.

You are his peace.

Overtime, you become apart of the 'evil twin' chaos with him and Jeonghan.

Seventeen would call you three the 'evil triplets'

If you are crazy as well, you get bonus points.

ღ Jun: shy giggly mess but would do anything for you.

If you were to tell Jun to jump, he'd ask how high.

Similarly to Seungcheol, he'd be extremely down bad.

He would constantly smile at you no matter what.

Like, you could sneeze and he would find it adorable.

At the beginning before he was 1000% comfortable, he would giggle a lot and overthink everything.

Hell, he over thought whether or not it was too soon to hold your hand.

YOU had to be the one to grab his hand and swing it back and forth.

(That action alone gave him butterflies for 7 business days btw.)

The more comfortable he got, the more silly he got which made you giggle and become the shy giggly mess.

He would send you random pictures throughout the day of things that made him think of you.

TBH I can see him bringing you random things that made him think of you.

like a cool ass rock? Totally would bring it to you because the color of the rock reminded him of your eye color or whatever LOL.

He just wanted to show you how much he liked you.

ღ Hoshi: pretty much what you would expect

Soonyoung wore a smile whenever you were around and even strangers could see how whipped he was.

Do you rememember Loco and Hwasa's interaction on "Hyena's on The Keyboard?" Yeah basically, Soonyoung would be like Loco toward you. Especially the car scene when he bought Hwasa a lipstick LMFAO

You would make him so flustered most days and it was honestly so cute.

The days he was a bit more confident would make you so flustered but unlike you where it was unintentional his was intentional.

Cuddly lil tiger... rawr (I'm so sorry)

Honestly, just being near you was all he needed for a good day.

When you both were busy with various schedules, he would send you texts throughout the day and send you pictures and videos of things that made him think of you.

Which would honestly be basically everything because you were ALWAYS on his mind.

Basically just a cuddly lil simp that was so happy to be yours.

ღ Wonwoo: the biggest cheerleader tbh

All members would be hella supportive of their significant others but I feel like Wonwoo would be the most supportive.

Not in a way that would be overly shown but would bring you flower after big projects and things like that.

Loves to listen to you talk about projects, aspirations, and all at.

He is all smiles whenever you talk about things you are SUPER passionate about.

His love language would be acts of service so he would do his best to do things that would make your life a bit more easier.

Also would be a subtle romantic. He would take you on casual but meaningful dates.

If you went to an arcade he would make sure he won you a plushie.

Also, if you thought you were paying for anything, that would be cute.

Also, if you were also a gamer and wanted to play minecraft, he would put your beds next to each other in your shared house.

Just the best cheerleader <3

ღ Woozi: feels like he won the lottery

Jihoon feels like he won the lottery when it comes to you.

He found someone that liked him for Jihoon and not just because he was Woozi?!

He would constantly be shocked that you were so supportive of him and vice versa.

After like the second date, he already felt like you were going to be a muse for him.

Writes the cutest love songs for your ears only.

They would be some of the most vulnerable lyrics that would make you just cry because they were so beautiful.

He isn't a very touchy guy but he would hold your hands often.

Is a homebody mostly but would step out of his comfort zone to go on an adventure with you.

You both have 'secret gestures' when out in public. If you are nervous or want him to know you are thinking of him, you tug at your left ear twice. For him, he will rub the top of his nose bridge twice.

It gives him butterflies if you do it in front of y'all's friends.

He's honestly so down bad for you and just constantly grateful for you.

ღ DK: down bad, comfortable, your new best friend.

Seokmin had the biggest crush on you before you started dating. When you both got together he felt like the luckiest son of a bitch ever.

The other members would tease him constantly because he was so down bad and such a simp for you.

But hey, you weren't complaining because you also were down bad and a simp for him lol.

You both skipped the "awkward" parts of the beginning of a relationship and it just always felt so comfortable.

Even when it was learning about what you both liked and disliked.

You both just fit together like a puzzle piece.

You both were head over heels for each other super quick.

He just was your best friend and vise versa.

ღ Mingyu: 25/8 heart eyes and so thankful for you.

Mingyu was super emotional when it came to you.

He was a mix of Seungcheol and Seokmin where he was just so down bad for you and just so comfortable around you.

Similarly to Seungcheol, he would also think long term.

He just loved and craved doing domestic things with you.

He loved cooking, he loved movie nights, he loved late night drives where you were the best passenger princess.

Shit, he even loved folding laundry with you which he helped you do when it was pouring rain and y'all had to cancel reservations because the rain was so bad.

He just was so enchanted to be with you and love you.

Oh also, he is such a clingy man and would always want to hold your hand or be touching you in some way.

ღ Minghao: the moment when the anti-delulu becomes delulu for his baby

Minghao would find you to be the most precious person in the world.

He would want to do everything and anything for you.

He would constantly look at you with heart eyes.

He would be constantly flustered because of your antics.

He would think you were the most precious-est person to ever ever exist.

You would be a muse for him and his paintings.

Omg, if you both did paint dates, his heart would explode because you were both doing something he loved together.

If you were someone that likes to read, you both would cuddle and get lost in your books while near each other.

To him, you are perfect.

And to you, he is perfect.

ღ Seungkwan: he would want to be perfect because you deserve it

Seungkwan is very cautious about his image with him being an idol and doing variety shows often.

For first bit of the relationship, I can see him trying to prove something to you.

He would try his best to be perfect for you that you would have to sit him down and tell him that you like him for him. That him being an idol is just a lil bonus.

This would hard rewire his brain and he would learn how to be himself with you.

He is very vulnerable with you.

A lot of the members love that you bring a more casual side to him.

However, he would love if you were sassy and would be side eyeing people with him.

Imagine a lot of self care days with him. Like face masks while eating take out.

He just loves being around you because he feels safe.

You become his safe place <33333

ღ Vernon: partners in crime and just so thankful for you.

Hansol finding you was a dream come true and he often thanked the stars for finding you.

You both spoke in movie, vine, and tiktok quotes.

Most of your text convos are of random memes.

Some of the older members look at your relationship and just think "?????"

However, Hansol and you don't give a rats ass because you both understand and that is what matters.

He would match clothes with you.

He would often let you borrow his clothes because he thinks they looked way better on you then him.

He would show you his solo stuff before he showed anyone else.

He is just so in love with you awww.

ღ Dino: Down bad doesn't even cover it

I know I said Seungcheol was the ultimate when it came to being "down bad" but holy shit Lee Chan.

He would be a mix of all of his hyungs tbh

However, he would be so down bad that his hyungs would tease him.

He would bring you up ALL the time.

He had you as his wallpaper and even had a polaroid picture of you both in his wallet.

He would be your biggest fan and he just loved you so much.

He would do tiktok dance challenges with you all the time.

He also would try to find things cool things to do on dates with you.

[maxinesgun]

hii, i loveddd ur last fic and was wondering if u could write jealous (but sweet) shane?? if ur up for it ofc ! either way btw I LOVE UR WRITING + THANK U FOR WRITING SHANE HER FICS ARE SO RARE

jealousy, jealousy ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

pairing: shane mccutcheon x fem!reader

summary: shane gets jealous when she notices a woman being flirty with you at a coffee shop.

cw: jealous!shane, smoking, some fluff, established relationship, oblivious reader, implied nsfw at the end. 2.1k

a/n: tysm anon!! love this request because i was definitely planning to write jealous shane are you kidding me? also sorry that the writing has slowed down, school has started back up again and I've been sick for the last week so I've been fighting for my life

It was almost the last straw for you when you reached into your bag and found that your wallet wasn’t there.

The first had been sleeping through your alarm, and the second was when someone had cut you off on the road, prompting you to let out a very rational string of curses. After throwing on the fist decent outfit you’d found in your closet and rushing out of the house faster than you probably ever had in your life, all you wanted was coffee to give you the strength to last through this day. That was why you’d taken your lunch break to head to your and Shane’s favourite coffee shop, conveniently close to your place of work and the gym she frequented.

Apparently, some caffeine was too much to ask for.

“God, I’m sorry, I must have forgotten my wallet,” you sighed to the guy behind the register, feeling more defeated than annoyed as you continued to rummage through your purse, as if expecting it to suddenly appear. You cast a glance over your shoulder to the glass doors hopefully, but Shane wasn’t here yet. She’d texted you saying she’d be there in five minutes or so.

You gave him an apologetic smile and were about to go sit and wait at one of the tables when a voice and a light tap on your shoulder drew your attention. “Excuse me, is this yours?”

The voice belonged to a pretty woman with blonde hair tied up in a ponytail and a smattering of freckles across her high cheekbones. Her smile was sweet and friendly, and she was holding out to you what was, sure enough, your wallet. 

You let out a relieved breath, giving her a look of gratitude as you took it from her. “Wow, I thought I lost it. Thank you. Seriously.”

“Found it out in the parking lot,” she said, pointing a thumb over her shoulder. “Trust me, it’s happened to me a few times.” The small laugh she let out was bubbly, the kind that made you want to automatically return it.

“You’re a lifesaver,” you said, holding up the wallet and flashing her a grin before moving back to the register to order your and Shane’s regulars. 

You stood by the counter to wait, and when the woman finished ordering for herself, she moved to stand beside you. 

“Heading to work?” she asked conversationally, her eyes flicking over your work attire.

You nodded, glancing down at yourself briefly. “Yeah. I’m on my break, actually,” you said with a smile. “I needed a coffee fix. If one more thing went wrong for me today, I’d be driving off a cliff right now.” 

She laughed again, a little too hard, in your opinion, at what hadn’t even been all that funny. Still, the smile on your lips grew a bit. Maybe you were just underestimating your own charm, here. “So you work around here?” she asked, to which you nodded. “So do I, actually. I own a flower shop on Millers.”

“No way! I’m down there a lot. You’ll have to tell me what it’s called so I can check it out sometime.”

The conversation flowed easily, drifting from discussing work to what you did for fun nearby. You were a little surprised by how easy it was, normally not being one for small talk in the slightest, but she was warm and attentive, reaching over to touch your arm once or twice as she laughed at some small quip you made.

The door swung open in your peripheral, and you glanced over to see Shane striding over to you with that relaxed, easy swagger she had. You shot her a grin as she made her way over, and she returned it, the corner of her lips crooking up, though you noticed that her eyes were flicking between you and the woman in front of you questioningly.

“Hey,” you greeted her, holding out the coffee you’d ordered for her.

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” she said a little breathlessly, her hand brushing over your back lightly as she took the cup. A light, casually intimate touch. You were so caught up in smiling up at her in admiration that you’d forgotten momentarily that there was someone else standing right there. “Who’s this?” Shane asked, looking from you to the woman with an unreadable expression on her face.

“Oh! Right. This is…” you gestured to the woman, who was now glancing between you and Shane with a faint smile, but your words trailed off as you drew a blank. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I got your name,” you said with a laugh.

“It’s Sam,” she offered with a chuckle. “Or Samantha. But Sam’s fine.”

“Shane,” she introduced herself with a tight smile when Sam’s eyes turned back to her expectantly.

“Sam found my wallet. Apparently I dropped it in the parking lot,” you told Shane, who was taking a sip of her coffee, eyes roving over Sam as if sizing her up. “She was just telling me about the flower shop she owns downtown. We probably passed it before. Isn’t that cool?”

“Very cool,” Shane said in a noncommittal tone, eyebrows raising slightly. 

“You should definitely drop by sometime! I’d love to see you there,” Sam said brightly, eyes focused on you. “Bright yellow awning. Can’t miss it. Here, I’ll give you my card.” She began digging around in the satchel hanging from her shoulder. As she did, you felt Shane’s hand on your back again. It snaked around your waist, tugging you against her subtly.

When Sam straightened up, holding out a small business card between two fingers, you took it, eyes scanning over the picture on the front. “Don’t feel obligated to come, of course. I just thought… you know,” she said. You could feel her eyes on you as you flipped it over, murmuring your compliments about how it looked like a cute place. “That is such a pretty necklace on you, by the way,” she smiled, causing you to look up in some surprise as you touched a hand to your chest, flattered by the sudden compliment.

You thanked her just as Shane abruptly turned to you, reaching out to take the business card. “Can I see this?” She took it, studying it for all of two seconds. “Yep, there it is. Yellow awning,” she said flatly, her tone dripping sarcasm as she held up the card. She was smiling, but it was unnaturally tense—the kind of smile you plastered on to hide your irritation. “That is really great. Would you excuse us for a second?”

You looked at her, your brows slightly narrowed in confusion. She clearly wasn’t happy, you could see that much, but you didn’t know why she’d be in such a mood. Before you could open your mouth to say something to her, Sam did first.

“Of course, you probably have somewhere to be! Don’t let me hold you up.” She flashed another sweet smile at the both of you, picking up her coffee. “So nice to meet you!”

You had hardly finished returning her goodbye before you were practically being whisked out the door by Shane, her hand on your waist gentle but firm. “Hey—What are you doing? We just got here,” you protested as she pushed the door open, leading you outside.

“We can sit in my car,” she responded shortly, as if that made any sense at all. You relented, following her over to her car and watching as she pulled the door open and ducked in. You slid into the passenger seat beside her, the doors kept wide open.

You watched as she set her coffee down in the cupholder and immediately began rummaging around in the armrest, the sharp line of her jaw tensed. “Shane,” you said, but either she didn’t hear you or was too distracted to respond as she pulled out her pack of cigarettes, promptly pulling one out and sticking it between her lips.

Your brows raised slightly as she grabbed her lighter and lit up. She rarely smoked in the middle of the day like this. “Shane,” you repeated, a bit louder this time.

“What?” she asked innocently, looking over at you with the cigarette dangling from her lips.

“You want to tell me what that was? What, you didn’t like her?”

She took a long drag before just staring at you for a moment, as if unable to tell whether or not you were joking. “She was hitting on you.”

“What?” You laughed in disbelief. “No she wasn’t.” Sure, she’d been all smiles and had paid you a nice compliment, but that didn’t mean it was flirting.

Shane gave you that deadpan look again. “Yes, she was.”

“Maybe she was just being friendly. How do you know she’s not straight?”

She scoffed. “She’s not straight.”

“She could be straight.”

“I saw where her eyes were going.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, attempting to play at indignant but unable to help the grin that played across your lips. “What are you talking about?” 

Shane exhaled, a puff of smoke unfurling from her lips, as her gaze fell very pointedly to your chest before moving back up, the motion exaggerated. 

“She was looking at my necklace. She complimented it,” you protested, rolling your eyes.

“Are you kidding? That’s, like, the oldest trick in the book,” Shane pointed out, exasperated. “You want to check out someone’s tits, but you can’t be too obvious, so you focus on the jewelry. ‘Oh, hey, I like your necklace. It looks so pretty on you.’ See what I did there?”

Your gaze trailed from her to a spot out the window as you fell back against your seat, considering her words. It did make sense. And Shane would know, after all. She had probably pulled it herself once or twice. 

“Huh,” was all you said, your mind turning over the previous interaction in light of this new information. You weren’t displeased by it; it had been awhile since you’d been flirted with. Or maybe you got hit on all the time but just completely failed to notice, if today was any indication.

“Yeah. Huh.” You felt her gaze lingering on you for a few moments before she turned back to the window, taking another drag. “N’ since when have you ever wanted to go to a flower shop?” she mumbled, disgruntled.

The grouchiness in the remark caught your attention, and you breathed a laugh, leaning over on the armrest. “Oh, come on,” you said teasingly, your grin only growing when she shot you an unamused look. You couldn’t help it—it was cute, the way she was pouting, the little scowl on her face. “I don’t, babe.”

“That’s not what you said in there,” she said stubbornly.

“I promise.” You leaned forward to pinch her cheeks in your hand, just to make her pay attention to you, to which she batted your hand away lightly. Your heart gave a sudden clench of affection as your eyes roamed over her face. “I do kinda like it when you’re jealous, though.” Your voice was soft, teasing.

“I’m not jealous,” she muttered, huffing a little. “I just didn’t like seeing her be all… touchy. And smiley.” She made a face.

You plucked the cigarette out of her hand, leaning back in your seat. With a sound of protest, Shane reached for it, grinning despite herself as she practically fell over you. She braced herself with an arm against the seat, your faces inches apart. “Give that back.”

You held the cigarette out of reach, your other hand coming up to cup her face, your thumb brushing over her lips. God, she was pretty. “You’re right. Only you get to do those things,” you said as you pressed a soft kiss to her mouth. “No one else.” You kissed her again, a little longer this time, and you heard her give a low grumble in her throat as she kissed you back. At the same time, her hand tangled with yours to retrieve the cigarette.

“Yeah?” she said in a low voice when she pulled back, her eyes still glued to your mouth. Her head lifted briefly to give a quick glance around before looking back down at you, that familiar mischievous glint in her eyes. “You want to prove it to me?”

The corner of your lips quirked up, your stomach giving a little flutter at the way she was staring at you. “Prove it to you how?”

She smirked, knowing you knew exactly what she meant. “How much time do you have left?”

You quickly dug around for your phone, clicking it on to check the time, then promptly dropped it back into your purse. You grabbed her cigarette again, this time earning no protest, and tossed it out the door, swinging a leg out and using the heel of your boot to grind it into the pavement. “Enough.”

[cursedcola]

Prompt: "Will You Marry Me?" - Proposal Headcannons Characters: Everyone :) Part(s): Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw(Here!), Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde, Diasomnia(Pt.1)(Pt.2) Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Warning(s): None. I mean, unless you don't want to marry any of them. Just don't read if that's the case. Note: These are all if he is the one proposing btw. I've been thinking about maybe programming a small fan-made mini-otome using these ideas. Just for some practice for school while also being self indulgent hehe

Leona Kingscholar

Let’s just rip the bandaid off. Leona dates to marry. He’s not someone to invest his time in something troublesome, and frankly? Not many people catch his interest. Sure. He might think someone is physically attractive, but there’s a difference. He doesn’t follow the traditional path either. The ‘dating’ stage doesn’t last long because he’s already made up his mind prior to it.

Dating is pretty much just formality. The moment you agree to it, you’re essentially agreeing to marry him. He’s not going to put in effort for just anyone. Bonus points if he’s the one to confess his feelings first. That is basically concrete confirmation that he intends to marry you.

Leona proposing is inevitable. Only two things stand in his way: time and pride. Time, because he is no idiot. Your ways are unlike his people, and unlike him. He’s patient. He knows how to play the game. He can wait, but not forever. He’ll observe you over time and slip in questions here and there about your goals in life. Then he’ll find a good time frame. Please remember that Leona is not just an ambitious hot-head. He’s a smart one.

Then there is his pride. He will not put himself in a position that has a chance to fail. No. He will play dirty, and wait until you are tinkering with the idea of marriage. He’ll steer conversations towards talks of the future, and make it so you’re the one who starts them. All to get you warmed up to the idea of spending your life with him, and to a stage where he can clearly tell where you lie emotionally. He might appear neutral on the outside; however, it’s all according to plan. While you are just beginning to imagine your lives together, Leona’s already had the thought process long prior. You don’t need to know that though.

The icing on the cake is when you visit his home. Checka is Leona’s secret wingman. Your soft spot for the boy is something he takes advantage of, and lets Checka consume your attention during a tour of the palace. You meet his elder brother, who irritatingly pries for details about your relationship. Leona lets it go. Just this once, because he knows you feeling at home is more important in the long run. You share a room with him during your stay, and he made arrangements for small changes according to your tastes. You’re also gifted with a new wardrobe of traditional clothes for your stay, and given free reign of the area. Naturally you are guarded in secret, as per the King’s orders. His brother knows as well as Leona does that it is imperative that your stay goes well.

You will be touring landmarks and tourist spots within the continent as well. While Leona would much rather laze his free time away in his room (away from his family), he goes. Word spread that he was bringing home his partner. Thank the gossiping maids for that. Walking with you makes the rumors official, and is safer than having you walk alone with Checka and some royal guards. That would have arisen suspicion, and been troublesome. More troublesome than walking around and confirming to the public that you are not to be touched.

Ignoring the many remarks about how Leona is unusually active during his visit (thanks to you), his pride is high. You’ve thoroughly been slotted into his life, and are accepted. Any apprehensions about you denying him were snuffed out. The way you took to living with him so easily proves it. If you weren’t welcomed by his family? Well, it wouldn’t change anything. This scenario just makes what he’s about to do easier.

The first night you arrived, Farlan presented Leona with a Kingscholar family heirloom. A ring that has been in their family for generations. Not meant to be worn permanently, and only for proposals. Farlan used it to propose to his wife, and at the ceremony presented her with the ring he picked out. Now Leona will use it to propose to you.

One look at it and Leona declined. He’s spent his whole life chasing things that he couldn’t have because of his birth status. He would not yield this moment to tradition. Farlan was shocked, but rescinded the offer with a supportive smile. His brother had found himself, and the King was proud.

On the evening of your final night at the palace - Leona finds you alone on the balcony of your shared room. If he was going to do anything, it would be now. Initially he was 100% confident in getting your acceptance, but the longer he watches the less sure he becomes. Deep down there is rooted fear that he will once again become second choice, and that you’ll choose to return to your world over him. His hands are in his pockets, and one of them fists around the ring he prepared long ago.

Right when he moved to back out, you turned to come back inside. Your serene stature brightened at the sight of him, and he gained back some confidence. If you could only look at him that way forever…well, here goes nothing.

“What are you doing out there without a coat? It gets extremely cold in the Savannah during the night. Do you want to get sick? I won’t be the one taking care of you….” he sighs and crosses the open threshold.

The dipping temperature has your arm hair standing attentive. Leona clicks his tongue, shrugging off one of the outer wraps tied on his waist and covering your shoulders.

“Stubborn mule,” he chides but there’s a reserved affection in his tone, “I’m sure you could’ve pieced it together by this point, but this isn’t just some normal vacation.”

Leona ties the cloth into a secure knot across your collar, taking a moment to linger. His tail flicks with nerves against the sculpted railing. Tch. There are a million ways he could do this. Like an infinite checkmate, where the king could be taken by any available piece all at the same time. An impossible scenario in Chess, yet Leona’s all about breaking the mold. He pulls the ring from his pocket, pinching it between two fingers in front of your face. Your eyes cross to focus and he feels that familiar sensation of fulfillment.

“I brought you here to ask for your hand. What? You want me to say it so plainly? Ain’t the jewel enough?….hah, someone’s getting greedy for a little herbivore,” Leona smirks, taking your hand and sliding the ring over your finger. He kisses the band, fiery citrine holding your gaze all the while, “I’m here for your hand in marriage. Nothing less.”

{ 'Everything the light touches...is our kingdom' - A golden sunrise. Befitting. He used to hate them. Hate that phrase too. Yet you are the sun that Leona has been searching for. He continues to fight against fate in hopes that his efforts will bare fruit, and you are living proof that there is a chance. Maybe not easily. His life might not be what he originally dreamed. He may not get to sit on a throne of light . Yet there is a light in his life, and he likes to think that fate did not bring it to him. No, he found you all on his own.}

Ruggie Bucchi

'I don't see why you haven't proposed to that young darlin’ yet. Keep waiting and you'll miss your chance, boy'

Well, of all the things Ruggie expected to hear during his visit home, that wasn't one. Normally he'd be nagged over being away too long, or not writing home enough. This? It caught him off guard. Grandma was always sticking her nose where it didn't belong...but, maybe she had a point this time.

Your relationship. It's not something Ruggie has given much thought. It's uncharacteristic of him to get comfortable enough not to look a few steps ahead, but he's gone soft. A fact that he begrudgingly accepts with a grain of salt.

Naturally, he doesn't admit this out loud and instead changes the topic. On the outside, he acts normal and helps out around the house. However, internally he is thinking over his grandmother's prying.

Marriage. It's not necessarily 'beneficial,' to say the least. With only a few months left until graduation, he'll finally be entering the rat-race to secure himself a comfortable position for life. He's worked hard and developed connections to make it happen. The finish line is right there.

Where does that leave you? He can't necessarily be as flexible if he has a partner to worry about. It's a weak link, and might cause problems in his plans. The smart thing to do would be to break things off. After all, how many school romances get a happy ending? It's so unrealistic. He'll be busy with work, you'll have your own responsibilities, and eventually it will be like you are strangers with a title tying both of you together.

This reasoning alone is enough to settle the problem. It's just - he doesn't like it. It's the most realistic path and he hates it. If it was about finding a companion, then he could do it later in life.

But when he tries to picture that lifestyle with anyone other than you, it doesn't sit right. It's physically upsetting, and makes him nauseated.

Sleep evades him that night. Ruggie finds himself sitting in the kitchen doing homework, burning the midnight oil until he can think with a clear head. Naturally, his all-knowing grandmother finds him there and makes him spill his thoughts.

She's direct with her advice. It's rare for Ruggie to be stumped considering his quick-wit, and understanding emotions is a wisdom you gain with experience.

For someone like Ruggie, who's always maximized every outcome and thought ahead - you're a weakness. Something that he can't control, and yet exactly what he needs in life. We don't get to choose who we love in life. Love is unpredictable, and Ruggie's found it at a young age. Career opportunities come and go, but he will never get back the time spent at your side...so why not maximize that instead? Hm?

He leaves for NRC the following day. For the last time, considering it is his final year. On the way he stops at multiple markets and dips into his savings. With nothing but a ring and an idea, he ditches his stuff in his dorm and heads to Ramshackle.

He's not nervous. That left his system the night prior. His grandmother's tough advice hardened that up quick.

He knocks on the door, half expecting one of the resident ghosts to answer. Instead it's you, and he's down on one knee before you can speak. With one hand, he holds out the ring. The other itches his nose in attempt to hide his wobbly grin.

"Shishishishi~ I don't gotta explain what's going on, right? I'm sure you can put two-and-two together quickly. Are you really so surprised that you have nothing to say? Hmm, I guess that I can take the lead. You owe me! Pretty soon I'll be leaving this place. You still have another year here, and I can't promise I’ll be around much. Until now, I had no plan for us. Likely because being with you is the most natural thing I got outta this life. It’s always been about the short wins, y’know? Lookin’ out for number one. I've always aimed for a life of comfort, but now I want ya in that picture too. I can’t see it anyway else. So...when you graduate next year, will you marry me? I'll be patiently waiting, shishi~”

{Rose Quartz. The symbol of unconditional love and family. Something Ruggie hasn't experienced much in his life, and is grateful for. Ruggie did not want to choose a generic gem. Not for this. He may be known for cutting corners, but this is too important. He has done his fair share of trading, and knows exactly what to look for when shopping. No salesperson alive could convince him otherwise. You may not understand the meaning behind the gem, but that's alright. He doesn't mind, because this is the ring he'll see on your finger until you're both old and grey}

Jack Howl

Jack takes the longest out of all in his dorm. In result, his proposal is the most natural. Not to say that he does not put thought into it! Oh no, this poor lad hella overthinks the event. It's just getting him to the proposing stage is - well, anticlimactic?

All Jack requires is time. Once you've both settled in to your lives on an individual standpoint, with time comes thoughts of taking your relationship to the next level. As adults who have been together for years, it's only natural? At least for Jack. He has never been for or against getting married. So, there really is no internal battle for him to fight. He just? Lets himself be happy with the idea? I know, I know. It sounds too easy - but think about it. Jack is responsible, kind, and a bit like a golden retriever (or should I just say wolf?). He doesn't ignore his feelings. So if he feels that he want's to marry you, then why not? The worst that can happen is you say no.

There was no epiphany. No spark or overwhelming feeling of affection that made him want to marry you. No impending doom, nervousness, or special moment that he can pinpoint as 'the moment'. Nothing. You weren't even around.

He was merely finishing up morning jog and heading home. The thought casually entered his head, and he let it stay. Over time it reappeared over and over, until he felt that he'd heard it enough to act on it.

Jack is high-key observant and knows your likes and dislikes by heart. He feels that such an important moment is something he needs to think through deeply, and on his own. Many have been at the receiving end of his determination, and that doesn't exclude you. Once he's set his mind to something, there is no holding back. Over the course of weeks he proceeds to undergo self-reflection, and craft a proposal that he feels is perfect.

One question he spends time thinking about is 'where,' because Jack would prefer to do an intimate act like proposing somewhere private. The last thing he wants you to feel is pressure to accept, so he chooses to propose on a late night walk. This might arise suspicion since he isn't in workout gear, which is rare. Yet it's a price Jack is willing to pay. He's never been great with surprises anyways.

He tries to uphold some element of mystery though. Do not laugh, but he put the in a plastic bag and hid it inside the container for his protein powder. When times get tough, you have to get a little creative.

Right before your evening stroll, he says that he wants to make a shake (under the pretense that afterwards he'll work-out). In actuality, he takes an empty bottle and slips the ring inside.

While you're both walking, he shakes it around and 'complains' that nothing is coming out. With you completely unknowing, he opens the cap and feigns surprise. It makes you curious, and he hands over the bottle a bit too eagerly

It's light, you note instantly. A glance inside reveals the ring, and when you pull it out Jack stops walking. His face sets with determination despite the red hue overtaking his neck and ears.

“Will you marry me?? -- oh wait, that was too blunt, wasn't it? Hang on!” he takes a breath, and coughs into his fist, "So. I've been doing some thinking. We've been together for years now, and to me you've become irreplaceable. I don't know how else to describe how I feel, other than to say that you are the only person I want to spend my life with. I hope that you feel this way too…because there isn’t anyone else for me. Just you. It’s always been you.”

{He isn't a man of the arts. Jack has no eye for fancy jewels, or what's an appropriate design. He originally thought to have the shop keeper help him decide. Yet, that felt impersonal. So he perused many stores, and did his best to imagine your reaction to seeing each ring. Nothing caught his eye until this peridot. A simple cut with an eye-catching color. Sure, it's not what others would recommend but he liked it. Who would Jack be to deny his gut instinct?}

[hedgehog-moss]

I've received some absolutely deranged anons since reblogging that post saying celebrating mass slaughter of civilians is fucked up no matter what. One ask saying "wtf are you talking about, no one is celebrating anything, people think Israel is the victim as always" was sandwiched between two other asks, one cheering for genocide, one confused and uncertain as to whether or not going house to house slaughtering entire families is always a bad thing. Not using the word genocide lightly btw, the first ask was like "death to colonizers, all colonizers should die, there are no civilians in Israel, the death toll should have been higher." Another ask was 3 paragraphs that amounted to a clearly satisfied "reap what you sow." What did the murdered babies sow exactly? Or the abducted grandma who was a lifelong peace activist, who regularly drove people from Gaza to Jerusalem for medical care? I've seen lots of such comments in the notes of one post the other day, bonkers levels of dehumanising antisemitism, which was what prompted me to reblog a post by someone with a moral compass.

For a lot of progressive social media 'activists' the question of whether or not to condemn child murder is a really complex moral dilemma when it's being done by the right oppressed group or, let's be honest, if it's Jewish children being murdered for a good cause. It's repulsive. The idea that you can "side" with the children trapped in Gaza subjected to war crimes by hesitating to condemn war crimes against children on the other side is repulsive. The adults at that music festival and in surrounding villages didn't deserve to be massacred either but it's hard not to keep focusing on the children in the process of desperately trying to find a line in the sand with people who claim to care about justice. I wasn't going to make any more posts because the last thing social media needs is more unaffected people giving their 2 cents on this topic, but yeah I'll just say, if your moral stance is that being oppressed and persecuted long enough gives you the right to fight for your land at any cost, including costs borne by innocent children, then you are ideologically aligned with Israel's current government. Not everything is justifiable if done by / to the "right" people in the "right" circumstances. Look at yourself in the mirror and ask yourself what absolute (not relativistic, not contingent on context, incentives, or purpose) moral values you hold—any at all—if you can't draw a line in the sand with "rape" and "child murder" always on the other side of it.

[harmonysanreads]

Hi Harmony! I just noticed that your requests are open and I decided to drop by with a small request I thought about for weeks.

I was thinking about Arlecchino for a while, and it made me ponder of the concept of Arlecchino with a darling on a reincarnation AU. Maybe Arlecchino has met her darling at such an inconvenient time, and every time that it has happened, only she remembers their past lives.

It probably goes to the point that Arlecchino starts devising ways to be able to keep her darling safe, because each time they would meet, her darling gets into an accident... And it would seem that each time she tried, then it would simply fail. And it would push to a point where she resorts to one of the more not so morally good methods.

I don't know if this counts as a req. or a brainrot, but I offer you this idea because I think it could be interesting to think about sometimes. You're free to deny it btw if its typical, hard, or overall you can't write it <3 I completely understand if that's the case.

(p.s.: this is the one running @yxstxrdrxxm BAHAHAHAHAHA I'm sorry if I haven't replied to your message during OLC, I dont know how to talk to you w/o sounding really awkward </3 also!! hydration check! Anyways thats all, have fun with the idea + I hope you have a great day Harmony :D)

Pantomime Of The Night

yandere!arlecchino x reader

cw(s) : yandere, vampire!arlecchino, mentions of blood, murder, slight gore, non-consensual touching, unbalanced power dynamics

wc : 2.1k

a/n: omg hiii! would you believe me if I said I was just thinking about you before getting this ask? also please don't worry about my message! i had a hunch that you might be in a situation of sorts. thank you so so much for requesting arlecchino because i've been itching to write for her for a long time! i decided to go with vampire!arlecchino for this because i thought it'd suit the reincarnation theme well. i hope you enjoy it<3

lovely illustration based on this fic by a lovely person <3 (spoiler alert!)

At the deepest hours of the night, even the innocent crackles of hearthfire sound as clamorous as gun-shots.

You're dazed by the flame's continuous dance until the aroma of freshly brewed tea reaches your senses and the servants have left. A sharp clank from Arlecchino's glass and the weight of her gaze prompt you to meet her eyes. The light from the fireplace casts shadows on the other half of her fair face, she seemed to have foregone her usual taught posture in favor of a relaxed one. One of her hands supports her cheek while the other holds the wine glass, the beverage within sloshes as the claw-like accessories on her fingers curl around the object.

Your side of the table is far more decorated, desserts that you've never even seen in your impoverished mortal life and that tea you've grown fond of over the course of your stay in her mansion sit appetizingly. All beckon you to feast, all seek to fan the flames of voracity and you offer but a thoughtless stare in return.

The master of the house seems to have noticed your lack of appetite as she finally breaks the stretched out silence, “These are all confectioneries of the highest quality from the town and as I recall, all of your favorites. But you give them no more than a blank stare... you've also not taken a sip from the tea. May I inquire why?”

The raspy tone of her observation has your arms covered in gooseflesh, though, you note she does not sound as confused as her words suggest. You can feel her onyx eyes gloss over every part of your person, inspecting and dissecting each and every visible clue. You swallow dryly, “It’s just that it's way too late in the night,”

“Yet you look as ready as ever to head out. Tell me, have you been anticipating my return, dearest?”

Arlecchino stares pointedly at your attire, likely referring to the traveling clothes you have on instead of the silk nightwear that she had gifted. Your shoulders tense unconsciously, there's something about the way she speaks at this instance that has your heartbeat crescendoing. The silver haired woman gives you a few more beats of anxiety, her talons scrape against the dainty glass.

“I’ve been informed that you have not eaten anything since yesterday.”

The words escape her painted lips easily, but they don't fail to send a jolt through your system. Throughout your stay, she'd never spoken to you like this, like you were one of her children who did not know better and decided to cross a line. That realization renders you further puzzled, you did nothing wrong to begin with, but her tone made you feel as though you were on the verge of doing so. You clear your parched throat and gather yourself to meet her eyes. This time, you do not allow yourself to wilt at the force of her burning stare.

“Arlecchino, I have something to tell you.”

The addressed woman straightens up at your sudden serious tone, her hand abandons the wine glass on the table and you inhale involuntarily at the scratches that now decorate the object, “I’m all ears, dearest.”

Your brows crease, as usual, Arlecchino is courteous, too courteous for someone who makes it obvious she's informed of something that she wasn't supposed to know. She's been like this ever since you and your travel-partner stepped foot in her ambiguous estate. Initially, you were touched by the hospitality she and her adopted children had shown you. Your greed lulled any arising suspicions, you neither questioned why she'd been so generous to a commoner with nothing more than fifty mora to their name nor did you bother to think about how she was affording all those gifts. You naïvely wished to believe in her kindness and that nothing was wrong about this house. But of course, self-woven deceptions last so long.

“Before you mistake me for being ungrateful, I did plan to inform you before leaving. Me and my friend are extremely thankful for the care your house has shown us, but we cannot stay in one place forever.”

“Why not?” you halt at her abrupt question but she follows up before you could even part your lips, “Have we lacked in any area to provide you with the adequate comfort? Have any of my children said something? If it's the latter, I'll apologize in their stead, they can be quite playful at times, I'm sure you understand.”

You stare dumbfounded at the sudden turn this conversation has taken, she wasn't supposed to behave like this. Why is she searching for a reason to make you stay when she should've been happy that a burden was about to be lifted off of her shoulders? Are all nobles this pushy?

“I—” you cut yourself off as the silver-haired woman leans in without warning, her shadow envelopes the delicacies laid out on the small table.

“Or… have you seen something?” she drawled.

You cannot hold back a flinch this time. A curse echoes in your mind at your stupidity, this was no ‘conversation’ to begin with ; this was yet another trap and you'd willingly played right into the palm of Arlecchino's hand. If there's one thing you've learned about this mysterious noblewoman, it is that she enjoys the process of dragging answers out of everyone. From the very beginning, she was aware of your scheme but, she chose to wear that mask of courtesy one more time and lured you out in the open, unguarded. If only your friend arrived to fetch you from your room at the right time, you wouldn't be in this messy situation.

Your eyes dart from her unblinking expression to the sharp accessories that adorn her gloved fingers and something about them forces you to reply quickly.

“No! I mean, you know that I'm a traveler, do you not? It's already been six months since we came to your estate, me and my friend were starting to.. crave that adventurous thrill—yes! We were starting to miss being on the road and decided to depart in the early morning.”

Once upon a time, your late mother had told you that some people in this world are like spiders. They're always at the centerpiece of their lair, leaving intricate translucent webs for unassuming prey to get tangled upon. Although the croaked warnings of your bedridden mother did not make much sense to the younger you, you understood now exactly what she meant.

“Incorrect. You were planning to escape with that friend of yours, weren't you?”

The hearthfire burns bright, shrouding Arlecchino's expression in shadows. The chilling octave of her voice defeats the warmth of the fireplace and has every muscle in your body stiffened. Escape? Her word choice never ceased to baffle you throughout this faux tea-party. She speaks as though you were her prisoner instead of a guest. She tilts her head and has the audacity to look betrayed as though you were a possession she held dear, and not a random human she decided to take pity upon.

Arlecchino runs a hand through her silvery hair with a sigh that actually indicates ennui and you bite back a scowl, “Honestly, I do not understand why you even befriended that thing. He's an obnoxious blabbermouth with a nose bigger than his brain. And he's loud, too. You've always preferred to mingle with level headed people with a sufficient intellectual capacity in the past and here you are, glaring at me as though—”

“Don’t speak like you know me!”

You pant after the force of that outburst, your voice ricochets across the walls of her room and further beyond. You open your mouth to continue but stop when you notice a strange flicker in the silver-haired woman's eyes. It's gone in a blink and is replaced with irritation just as quickly however.

“Oh, but I do know you. I know you better than you know yourself, in fact. I know that there are exactly 11 moles throughout your body, I know all your preferences and fears. Don't believe me? Did you really never stop to question how I managed to give you things that catered to your tastes? How I knew what you desired even before you did? Or were you so mesmerized by the words of that friend of yours to pay minimum attention?”

If the tone of a person's voice could kill, you'd be rotting in a ditch by now. You would've never believed someone could sound this malicious while not even raising their voice. You want nothing more than to shrink away but the adrenaline accumulated through your anger pushes you to keep digging your grave.

“And so what if that's exactly how it is? You have no right to have a say in who I choose to be ‘mesmerized’ by!”

A ‘ha!’ laden with disbelief escapes Arlecchino's lips. Fine silvery strands bounce at the mocking tilt of her head, “So what will you do now? Walk out of the gates with that waste of space like nothing happened?”

“Oh, you bet I will!” you fume, rising from the chair and turning on your heels. You barely take one step away from the table until the full weight of Arlecchino's malice crashes down on you and you remember something important.

“Arlecchino, where is my friend?”

The silver haired woman leisurely raises her wine glass at your stilted words, “In my glass.”

You swivel towards her, blinking several times as if to confirm you didn't mishear.

“Well, here and… probably in the stomachs of my pet vultures, excluding the carcass, that is. I'll admit, the taste is subpar compared to the trouble I went through. That thing kept on screaming until one of the vultures tore its heart out. Ugh, my ears are still ringing.”

Your wide eyes tremble towards the glass in her hand, the deep red liquid within sloshes to the direction of Arlecchino's hand ; paired with her words, your friend’s destiny becomes a no-brainer. All your wits abandon you in that instance and in a moment of sheer panic, you take a step back. Arlecchino promptly interferes with your plans, the door and windows close with no little sound and the table and your chair disappear without a trace—all in the snap of her fingers.

“What are you?”

You would've screamed if you didn't forget how to use your lungs. But then again, you doubt anyone would come to save you from her clutches even if you did. Your eyes connect to her onyx ones and in that moment, she appeared far less human than she'd been this whole encounter. Her pupils flash as two red xs and you feel an invisible pull tugging you to her side. The temptation dominates any coherent thoughts until you find yourself an arms length away from her seated self. Her claws dig into the flesh of your arm and yank you to her lap.

Free from the haze of that strange sensation, the first thing that permeates your senses is how cold Arlecchino's proximity is. Your palm meets her chest in a feeble attempt to push her away but all it does is stun you when you notice the absence of a heartbeat. You feel the sting of something sharp on your chin and waist, your eyes glance back and forth between the sources—dread pools in your stomach. Because of your closeness and the light from the fireplace, you're able to see that the sharp objects you'd mistaken for accessories are actually her nails and the gloves, her real skin.

Perhaps your trembling was so pitiful that Arlecchino could not help but soften her gaze, “Do you truly not recall?”

You look up at her, thoroughly perplexed. There's that previous glint in her eyes again but you've already accepted that understanding this woman was beyond you. One moment she accuses you as though you've been unfaithful, then she vividly describes how she murdered an innocent man and the next she looks almost… hurt?

“Recall what?”

The silver-haired woman’s red lips part and you gulp as unnaturally sharp fangs sneer at you. Albeit, she does not answer you and you wonder if you should get accustomed to playing mental gymnastics with her just to get a simple answer. Her talons let go of your waist and drag their up to your collarbone, creating a deliberate and irrepairable tear on your clothes. Her nails drum against your skin for three seconds before they latch onto your throat.

“Although, that'll no longer be an issue.”

She forces you to make eye-contact with a sharp tug on your chin, the color drains from your face as her cool breath washes against your skin. You open your mouth to say something, anything, but are quickly shushed as you feel her fangs sink into your lower lip.

“Because, we'll have ample time to get acquainted with each other starting from today.”