#ty for the ask!! and apologies for the late response!!

[vigilskept]

For Sindri Brosca:

Which canon character doesn’t respect your OC whatsoever?

Which canon character does your OC respect a lot?

Which canon character does your OC not respect at all? Why?

for the fandom oc ask meme

smiling like the grinch at getting another opportunity to talk about sindri rn!! liable to write essays about them always so i’ll stick to the warden timeline to keep this short-ish

canon character who doesn’t respect sindri: morrigan

mostly because she thinks sindri has no self-respect (true!)

where it gets a bit misguided is that she also thinks they’re… soft (debatable) and naive (definitely not)

from her POV, they have no resources to fall back on & the pressure of the blight is not going anywhere so they should be extremely selfish!

meanwhile sindri tries to help people out wherever possible while they recruit each faction and it drives her crazy

it doesn't improve her opinion of them at all when she does see them making cutthroat calls at other times because she just... fundamentally doesn't understand them

she can't wrap her head around what they're thinking so it just seems bafflingly inconsistent

canon character sindri respects a lot: sten, by a country mile

there ARE other reasons they get on, but in terms of respect...

it's because he knows his role and devotes himself to the fulfilment of it. no excuses, no railing against fate

there's a part of sindri that always struggled with the role that was imposed on them by their family

then with the joining that burden was replaced by a doomed fight against the darkspawn for the rest of their life

they try not to think about it (as always) but there's definitely some turmoil going on there

and yet, for sten who has had even less personal freedom than sindri and will share their fate in fighting an endless war of his own, there's no such turmoil

they can't not admire that and take inspiration from it

after all if there is true fulfilment in fashioning yourself into a tool for the service of your kin and your sworn brothers, all sindri has to do to attain that is to Keep Enduring

canon character sindri doesn't respect: shale

what's really unfortunate here is that they actually do get on fairly well until they get into the deep roads!

... then all that respect is lost within the span of minutes

generally they're willing to hear people out, but how things go down at the anvil has them seeing red

learning that the shale once saw the value of what it could do for its people in a stronger, constructed form... that it doesn't remember any of this yet now wants to side with caridin to destroy any opportunity anyone else might have to do the same?

it's shortsighted. it's idiotic.

destroying the anvil because of orzammar politics isn't even worth considering

there will be volunteers. sindri will be the first in line.

when that line is crossed again (yes, they know, it surely will) it can be dealt with then. for now, there's a blight, and a single company of golems could face down countless waves of darkspawn

[duskandcloudy]

Can we ask about your attractions and experiences as a mostly aroace loveless system?

Individual headmate's feeling?

Thoughts on love culture as a whole?

Feel free to ignore if you folks don't feel comfy talking about is!

oohh this ones fun ! (and games)

interestingly - despite the vast majority of us being loveless - we do quite have a range of differences in our experiences and feelings regarding it ? :0c

continued below the cut - as this got quite lengthy ! o7

aslo's definitely the one who feels the most positively embracing and confident of their lovelessness. (more of aslo's thoughts regarding this can be seen in the poems they wrote here and here !)

they enjoy the company of trusted others without the need to have a certain 'pull' or emotion, as does ace who feels a bit similarly.

as for others- including myself ? to be honest - it can still feel quite.. isolating... admittedly.

.

(cw: discussion of and references to aphobia)

and i can't lie - there's definitely a handful of us who do retain the lingering belief.. that those out there who experience love will eventually move on from us.

move on towards a romantic and/or other kind of relationship formed around a type of love in the future -

because we- i'm not able to show "care" in the same way those who feel love do. so im not as important.... yknow ?

and that's something i know. something i accept.

when you're surrounded, swarmed, by a culture that glorifies and places the feeling of love on a pedestal - it really forces you to see just how.. well. just how much you aren't that. how you don't feel, don't experience this feeling that most seemingly possess.

love.

and with the lack of awareness for lovelessness as a whole.. and even anattractional spectrum identities outside of aromantic or asexual..? (aplatonic, afamilial, asensual, etc..)

it can paint something worded with genuine positive intent.. sting.

"you are still deserving of love despite everything."

"there will always be someone out there who will love you."

"being kind shows just how full of love you are."

(end cw)

.

i can't "love".

i don't want "love".

it feels pressuring - invasive. like im expected to feel something i had never felt - nor want to.

im content.. just like this ?

i think its like... cool to just... want to be kind ? without needing to love? i think its cool to just.. be casually content and want the best for others.

i like being able to feel a sense of trust towards others without feeling a 'pull' or 'yearning' towards them.

and to be honest ? the majority of us being loveless actually kinda makes it easier to decipher the bleed over feelings of those who do feel any kind of attraction in this system more noticeable - and easier to identify. (like a cheatcode.. hehehe.)

regardless... in general - i do believe being more knowledgeable and aware about both loveless and aspec experiences as a whole can most certainly help one in deconstructing amatonormativity and its expectations.

even to those who are not loveless or aspec - being rid of the expectations set by amatonormativity can help one make decisions and choices of their own on how they wish to tackle their own feelings - how they wish to define their own relationships freely without needing to follow a set obligation.

how they wish to shape what their definition of love is, or lack of.

and i think thats real neat - yeah ?

oh and.. before i forget to mention. i think.. knowing that there's others out there who are also loveless. who also don't feel love.. thinking about this helps make everything feel just less isolating.

less alone.

seen.

anywho - i accidentally popped off oops. sorry for hogging the post.

i hope this answer is satisfying.. we're always welcome to discuss further about any aspect of our lovelessness and/or aspec identities :)

(reminder: those who do not experience love or any forms of attraction are just as important as those who do!!!! be yourself! be you freely!!)

[fujouppy]

5 and 11 for the asks thing!

5. ahhh idk. i listen to english music way more than polish music... but lately ive been listening to some maanam and myslovitz, & id say right now my favourite songs by these two bands would be kocham cię kochanie moje & blue velvet respectively

11. i dont knowwww... im not one to read stuff by one specific author, i mostly just read whatever poetry i stumble into online or during class. & i dont really read books anymore (hoping to fix this!!! but ohh school just keeps me too busy to read anything other than mediocre fic)

[dreamauri]

♪ — 𝗠𝗜𝗗𝗡𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧, 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗥𝗦 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗬𝗢𝗨 - two mafia! charles leclerc x fem! reader ( angst ) series summary . . . after preparing your whole life to be married off to a mafia boss, you now have the difficult task of figuring out your new marriage and life, ensuring they don't turn out to be miserable.

( fic master list | general master list ) ( requests ) ( previous | next )

II, Good Morning Starshine . . . It’s hard to shake the feeling of stepping into a game where the rules are still unclear. The house is vast, echoing with unspoken histories, and each step feels like a quiet negotiation with the space( 1.4k words ) content warning . . . ( x )

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The sunlight filters through the curtains, spilling warm streaks of gold across the grand room. You blink against the light, sitting up slowly, only to glance down at the mess beside you. Charles lies sprawled on the bed, soft snores escaping his lips, his hair a wild mess against the pillow. The sight tugs at something soft inside you, and you almost smile before his hand darts out, wrapping lazily around your arm.

“Don’t,” he mutters, voice thick with sleep, pulling you back toward the warmth of his chest.

You pause, torn between staying and slipping away to explore. The pull of the house wins out. You gently try to pry his grip loose, only for him to groan in protest and tug you back again. He huffs, burying his face in your shoulder like it’s the most natural thing in the world. You can feel him take a long, deliberate inhale.

“Are you selling me?” You ask. The Monegasque simply answers with a nod in his sleepy stat, taking another deep wiff..

“Stop sniffing me, Charles,” you murmur, your voice low but amused. “I already smell like you, don’t make it weirder.”

His response is a half-awake grumble and a tightening of his grip. It’s only when his breathing slows again—deep, steady, unmistakably asleep—that you seize the chance to slip away.

The house is silent as you step into the hallway, pulling the robe around you more snugly. Each step echoes faintly in the vast space, the sheer size of it almost overwhelming. But you’re not just wandering aimlessly; no, this is reconnaissance. Every hidden security camera, every discreetly reinforced window, even the strange, too-perfect panel on the wall that might be a trap door—you catalog it all. A mental map starts forming, weak points and retreat routes tucked neatly into the back of your mind.

Your fingers trail lightly along the railing as you approach the grand staircase. A quick mental calculation tells you this would be a good spot to stage a diversion—or a disaster. You glance back down the hallway, your thoughts flickering to Charles. 

There’s a fine line between settling in and claiming territory, but you’ve never been one to play passive.

The sharp chime of the doorbell pulls you from your thoughts. You make your way to the grand double doors, tying the waist string of your robe as you go. When you open the door, you’re greeted by a few maid being ushered in by your younger brother. The women don’t waste anytime going into the kitchen to start on breakfast, leaving to give Kimi an empty look.

“You don’t miss me?” He asks, giving you his weirdly cheerful smiles.

“Not yet,” you sigh.

Breakfast is already spread out on the dining table when you join them. Charles sits at the head, his sharp eyes darting between you and Kimi, his confusion obvious but unspoken. You take the seat to Charles’s right, and Kimi settles beside you—not in front of you, which you note amused. Id he want to sit beside you, or keep away from Charles. The maids quietly move around the room, serving freshly baked bread and perfectly folded omelettes, the kind of luxury that still feels a little too much.

Midway through comseing the meal, Arthur makes his entrance. He strides in, his shirt slightly wrinkled, running a hand through his hair as he mumbles an apology. “Sorry for being late,” he says, taking the seat across from you, next to Charles.

The quiet tension in the room is almost amusing. You can feel Kimi glancing at you from the corner of his eye, his usual bluntness barely contained. Charles sips his coffee, looking like he’s waiting for a shoe to drop. 

When breakfast wraps up, Kimi stands to leave, ushering the maids out ahead of him. As he reaches the door, you catch him by the arm, pulling him aside. “We’ll talk soon,” you say softly, just loud enough for him to hear. “Don’t worry so much.”

“Are you sure you’re safe here?” His voice is low, edged with concern, his words aimed at you but not subtle enough to escape Charles’s notice.

You tilt your head, your fingers tapping the edge of your mug thoughtfully. “Kimi,” you start, your voice calm but firm, “I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be. And you—you need to focus on our family’s future. One of us has to be there.”

He doesn’t respond right away. Instead, his jaw tightens. You know he wants to argue, to remind you of all the reasons he doesn’t trust this arrangement. But he couldn’t do anything.

He looks at you for a moment, his expression unreadable, before nodding.

You watch him from a few steps away, arms crossed loosely over your chest, a small smirk tugging at your lips. He’s so polite, your little brother. Too polite for this world. But as the last of the maids begins to step out, you catch sight of Mary. She’s younger, probably around Kimi’s age, with wide eyes that dart between you and the exit like she’s afraid she’s forgotten something important.

“Mary,” you call, your voice steady but not harsh. She freezes mid-step, turning back to you.

“Yes, Madame?”

“You always wanted to live in Monaco, didn’t you?” You wave her over casually, as though you hadn’t just thrown her entire morning into question.

Her cheeks flush pink, and her lips part in surprise. She nods quickly, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her apron. “Yes, Madame.”

You tilt your head toward your side. “Stay.”

Mary’s eyes flick to Kimi for a moment, as if asking for permission, but he just shrugs with an easygoing grin. “Looks like you’ve got a new boss, Mary,” he jokes lightly, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

Mary nods again, the nervousness on her face shifting into something closer to excitement. She takes a few steps back toward you, standing quietly at your side, as though waiting for her next instruction.

After breakfast, the air in the room shifts—less familial, more businesslike. Charles leads you to the sitting room, where Arthur waits, hands clasped behind his back, his blondish hair catching the sunlight streaming through the tall windows. He looks every inch the younger version of his brother, though there’s a calmness in his demeanor that Charles’s sharper edges lack.

Charles doesn’t bother with small talk. “Arthur will be your right hand in every operation,” he says, his tone leaving no room for debate. “If there’s something you need to know, he’ll provide it. And if there’s a decision to be made, he’ll be by your side.”

Arthur nods once, his gaze settling on you with quiet amusement, though it’s clear he’s sizing you up. You meet his steady stare with one of your own, calm and unflinching. You’ve been through enough to know this moment isn’t about him—it’s about you.

“I look forward to seeing what you bring to the table, Arthur,” you say, your tone measured, yet carrying the weight of someone who’s already decided she belongs here.

Arthur’s lips twitch into the faintest hint of a smile, and he inclines his head slightly. “Likewise,” he replies, his voice as smooth and even as his demeanor.

Charles watches the exchange with a tight smile, pleased with the unspoken agreement between the two of you. His confidence in your ability to step into this role is as unshakable as the foundation of the villa itself, and the weight of it presses down on you just a little. But you don’t let it show.

As Charles moves to take his leave, Arthur shifts slightly, his stance still relaxed but more personal now. “So,” he starts, his voice light yet curious, “any idea what you’ll do today?”

Your gaze sweeps the room, landing on the grand yet cluttered surroundings. A house this big carries more than just history—it carries the weight of someone else’s preferences, someone else’s life. That wouldn’t do. You gesture vaguely around you. “This place needs to be cleaned up. A fresh start.”

Arthur follows your line of sight, nodding in agreement. “Makes sense. I’ll hang around,” he says easily, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Call for me if you need anything.”

There’s no condescension in his tone, no questioning of your authority, just a simple, straightforward offer. It’s almost refreshing.

“Don’t go too far,” you reply, half a warning, half a tease.

Arthur smirks, giving you a small salute before stepping back, leaving you to start shaping the villa—and your role in this world—on your terms.

[thebumblingbookbee]

The Kit and Ty fight is actually fucking insane really.

Because neither one owes the other one anything but feels as though they owe eachother everything.

Ty does not owe Kit an apology for going through with the ritual. The world he may owe an apology to but Kit? Kit knew full well what they were doing he just couldn't face the reality until it was too late. He couldn't face his fear of losing Ty until he realised there was more than one way to lose someone and if Ty did this then he would lose him anyway.

Kit is not owed an apology. But yet he is.

Ty is not responsible for the fact that Kit didn't express his concerns or back out sooner.

Ty does not owe Kit an apology for Kit deciding to help him.

Ty does not even owe Kit an apology for not responding to his declaration. It was too much to process for both of them. The sad thing is Ty did not owe Kit love back. Just because Kit tells him he loves him does not mean that Ty has to say it back. It is the socially acceptable thing but Ty is not responsible for the trauma Kit has around love and the expressing of it.

And yet he did hurt Kit when he did that. A hurt so deep it left scars on Kits bones. It's obvious that Johnny was not a big expresser of love and he was Kit's main human contact for a long time. Kit aches for love, like a kind of constant ache in your chest of need. So when Ty didn't respond the damage that did despite not being intentional was devastating.

The other thing Kit told Ty what he wanted then and there. "I will help you but not if you do this Ty". Kit made it clear that if Ty followed through with the ritual he would lose Kit that Kit would not help him anymore even if he did love him. Whether Ty didn't understand what Kit meant or choose to ignore it he can't be surprised that Kit left. He did exactly what he told Ty he would do.

Kit needs to forgive Ty for asking him to help him, he needs to forgive himself for agreeing to help him. Kit needs to accept that he should have intervened sooner, that his declaration was poorly timed for Ty who was already at the maximum amount of input he could bear.

But Ty needs to accept that he hurt Kit by not saying anything at all. He needs to find a way to see and ease that hurt or Kit will always be fearful.

Ty is not owed an apology either. But also he is.

Kit broke his trust. He feels lied to even if Kit never outright lied. Kit told him he loved him but he hardly has time to process that, when Ty is clearly a process and digest it and split it apart before he reacts kind of boy. He is not okay right now, grieving while in denial about that grief. His main sources of comfort and steadiness gone (Livvy and Julian) and now all he has to rely on is this plan and Kit. But now he can't rely on Kit to help him and he feels untethered again. The only thing he can do is try to stay to the plan, show Kit it's going to be okay, bring Livvy back and the world will be steady again, he can breath again. But it doesn't work. And now he doesn't know what he feels it's a new feeling of pain he can't handle and Kit is still in shock behind him frozen in place.

What Ty did was illegal and dangerous. He put himself and Kit, his family and honestly the world in horrendous danger. He did this having just witnessed the harm such actions can cause and after having been warned against it.

However arguably the worst thing is doing what he did to Livvy herself. He has taken away all agency and her basic rights because he loved her too much to imagine living in a world without her. He didn't see what Kit did, that having Livvy like that was not better than losing her in fact it might be worse.

Kit can see the wrongness of what they did to his friend. Can you imagine living with feeling you had committed a crime against nature and had done so to someone you loved? I think a large part of what Kit feels is guilt for what he had a part in doing to Livvy.

Both Kit and Ty were in positions of immense vulnerability. To outside forces but also to each other. Ty was the only person Kit had left in the world. Ty had so much pain and grief he couldn't be expected to process Kit's reliance on him. To understand the almost pressure Kit was feeling to follow along with him. Kit should have recognised that Ty wasn't okay but also Kit is not responsible for Ty and was grieving himself.

Then there is the aftermath. The secrets they must now both keep. The size of this secret to keep for someone you no longer wish to speak to is quite intense. The fight on the battlefield is the last they speak and it's not speaking it's screaming.

"I wish I'd never met you" and it's not a lie. I think Kit has never really lied to to Ty. He said that because he meant it, he wished he had never met Ty because if he hadn't he wouldn't be in this pain he is in now. He would never have to face what Ty did, what Kit helped him do. Not knowing Ty would have been better to this feeling of guilt and pain and grief and love.

The interesting thing is that at this point Kit is already done. He wants no more to do with Ty but Ty is still in it. The last thing Ty heard from Kit was his love and his declaration of never wanting to be apart from him. Ty thinks this can be fixed, it's what he has seen his whole life! People who love each other fight but they don't stop loving each other they stay around, Ty has only ever seen pretty positive associations with love and arguments. Love always conquered anger. But for Kit it's over already. Anger is stronger, guilt is stronger.

"I wish I'd never met you" oh god the agony, your first friend, the boy who choose to stay because you asked him to, who let you give him his first mark, who held you while you cried, who makes you blush when he smiles at you, your Watson saying "I wish I'd never met you". The confusion?? the pain??

Yet they protect each other moments after this, Kit with his magic and Ty with his slingshot, yet they still think of each other and ask after each other.

In Kit's mind Ty put and end to them when he cast that spell.

In Ty's mind Kit put an end to them when he left.

How do you even begin to pull apart who owes who what when you owe each other everything?

[hoiststowline]

_thundercracker x reader

[a/n: giving writing for thundercracker a shot, hopefully this is not too ooc! also, ty @rabotimagines , for the idea to do a small/mindless touches scenario!]

midnight air moves in short motions, poking at the unkept grass that stirs against exposed skin. it hadn't arrived to the point of an miserable breeze, though it was brisk enough to bring to question just how late of an hour the evening had seeped into.

it didn't make sense to spend any amount of effort to dwell on it, evidently very content by the simplest of actions and displays. though, somewhere in the back of your mind nags the idea that perhaps he was required to be somewhere else, just on the brink of asking to break an almost perfect silence.

immediately, an exhausted gaze catches the way his hand moves across the grass. it had previously come to rest nearby at your left, yourself tucked underneath thundercracker's arm as he reclines on his back. he's studying the sky, possibly navigating a map of stars but offers no inkling to what is actually on his mind. providing no words, his hand skates up the top of your thigh and lands in your lap, unceremoniously to boot.

now effectively trapped by his arm, any and all ideas suggesting he had responsibilities to attend to elsewhere are thrown to the very back of your thoughts, rightfully returned. knowing him, he wouldn't have done that, taciturnly asking you to stay without even looking your way.

effortlessly, you glance upward to survey his expression, yet thundercracker evidently has other plans. his optics are now closed, his unoccupied servo tucked beneath his helm for support against the stiff ground.

your mouth part to inquire just what he was up to, but in return your question goes unanswered as he scoops up one of your hands, gentle but unyielding. what comes to rest within your palm is his thumb, somewhat cool to the touch but easily present. unable to wrangle yourself free to catch his face, you freeze as his digit glides across the soft skin there, a short sweeping motion.

placidness arises familiarly in moments like these, and at least to you, thundercracker was well known for small touches such as the indicated. it's almost as if he doesn't quite realize it, subconsciously inching closer until he's within reach to get what he wants.

a breathy laugh escapes you, even after a futile effort to stifle it if only to preserve the moment. at the noise, thundercracker halts his caressing, though leaves his servo exactly where it landed. catching on that he's staring at you, you peer upward to find he's looking down your way in a confused and lazy manner.

"Yes?" thundercracker rumbles, unmistakably nonchalant but still curious as to what you find so amusing.

teeth sinking to some degree into your bottom lip, you offer a smile in apology before shrugging your shoulders. as if to say 'I don't know,'.

"Clearly something is amusing,"

you gasp as he moves to free his hand, though at your pleas and small tugs to stay he obliges. so you weren't laughing at that then, a reassurance that he wasn't doing something wrong.

"Do you realize you do that?" you extend, as means of intimate conversation.

now, having grasped his full attention in a manner of seconds, thundercracker sits up a little more, maneuvering slightly so all of his weight is placed on his other hand behind him. "Do I realize that I do what?"

at the feeling of your tiny fingers skating over his outer plating, something akin to a shiver runs up and over shoulders. without fail, that happens every single time you do that, and he can't quite ever bring himself to suppress the action. if you notice it, that's beyond his knowledge, but he wouldn't care if you did.

when you don't promptly respond, thundercracker's thumb swipes across your palm once more, a nudge to get your attention that only makes you smile stupidly.

"That," you hum, embracing his digit around your fingers as if it was a hand to hold.

at your dance around the subject, thundercracker raises his brow, vastly perplexed as to why you couldn't outright say it. grumbling faintly, he repeats the gesture a third time to push all of the puzzle pieces together, to answer his own query.

when you nod twice, he remains stumped. "I think so."

"Oh." however, you're still beaming with a delighted demeanor. "I like it."

while it wasn't always a conscious action, you didn't need to know that. if it made you happy, it would straightaway be added to the list of things that make you smile.

what he doesn't expect is for you to lean forward, carefully depositing a string of muted kisses up the length of his hand. after such an observation, thundercracker catches the yawn that you try your absolute best to restrain, though fail in the very end.

it remains heavily disappointing to say it, he still provides the statement if only for your wellbeing. "You're tired," he moves to sit up straight, though prohibited from going far as your fingers still linger over his plating, adamantly unwilling to forcibly tug himself free. "It's time to return home."

thundercracker can't resist you when you look at him like that, staring up at him with something of a pout on your lips. "Ten more minutes? Please?"

he huffs, but settles back against the grass. "Five."

very aware of the way your cheek gingerly rests against his upper torso and how everything freely falls back into place, he ex-vents silently to himself. after a moment, his thumb moves back across your hand, to which thundercracker can hear how your heart moderately picks up pace, happy.

[k1ssyoursister]

hey! do you have any muted red and gray/black dividers? ty!

hello @nonbinaryeddiekaspbrak !!! SO SORRY FOR THE LATE RESPONSE ☠️ I've had a lot of things going on in life taking time away from online, but here are some dividers for you, if you'd like more or a different type, make an ask and I'll get more for you I apologize 😭

please like, reblog, and credit (⁠｡⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠｡⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠♡

[callsign-rogueone]

harvest day - l.m.

secret admirer!Liam x Luceran!reader. part of my Valentine’s Day celly! 💕 words: 932 🏷: reader is feminine and has longish hair (can be tied), but no pronouns used. I am once again making random stuff up about Navarrian cultures. featuring my farm-boy Sawyer headcanon lmao (Luceras doesn’t have one major city on the map in the book. It’s all farmland, and you cannot convince me otherwise.)

You nearly crush it under your boot in your hurry to get to class, stepping back at the last second to pick it up.

A tiny dragon carved from wood -- your dragon, complete with his horns and a tiny spiked tail. You run your fingers over the wood — it’s been sanded, perfectly smooth against your skin. The level of detail is incredible. This must have taken hours.

“You’re going to be late, humble one.”

Right. You tuck it into the pocket of your jacket, locking your door behind you and jogging down the hall. 

You make it just in time, apologizing your way down the row, stepping around people’s feet carefully until you’ve made it to your friends. You settle between Rhiannon and Sawyer, thanking them for saving you a seat. “Overslept,” you explain, digging in your bag for your notebook, which you had nearly forgotten to pack.

You remove your flight jacket, taking the tiny dragon from your pocket and setting it on the desk beside your pen.

“Whoa, sick! Who made that?” Sawyer asks.

“I don’t know. I just found it outside my door. It looks just like him, though. Even got the horns right.”

“It is a very good representation of me,” Cruith appraises. “Though I have never once been that small.”

“That's awesome. Maybe they’re like, a wood-wielder or something,” Ridoc suggests, leaning over to examine it.

“I’m pretty sure that signet doesn’t exist,” Rhiannon says dryly.

“If he can do all that with metal, then it's entirely possible someone could do it with wood,” Ridoc defends.

“That’s what she said,” Sawyer says quietly, trying not to laugh.

Ridoc grins. “I’m rubbing off on you, man.”

You snort. “Now that's what she said.”

“Focus,” Rhiannon scolds lightly, ever the responsible squad leader, her eyes not having left the chalkboard this whole time.

“Yes, mom,” the three of you chorus softly, turning your attention back to the professor. 

Violet looks like she has something to say, but she remains quiet.

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

“Mail call,” Rhiannon announces, distributing opened letters to each of you.

Your heart drops as soon as you start to read yours.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I just didn’t realize the date. It’s Harvest Day on Wednesday. Last year I was just too busy trying to stay alive to think about it, but…”

Sawyer winces, understanding. “I wish I could be there too. I swear when I graduate, I’m gonna use all my leave every year to help them.”

“I’m so lost,” Ridoc says, looking between you.

You laugh, explaining. “Everyone spends the day — the week, really — helping their neighbors harvest their crops, and there’s always a feast at the end with what we’ve grown.”

“Gods, the food. My family doesn’t come from much, but that was always the one day a year I felt like we were rich,” Sawyer admits.

You sigh in agreement. “It’s gonna be so weird wearing black all day instead of fall colors.” 

“That is the most Luceran thing I’ve ever heard,” Ridoc says. “Sometimes I forget you guys are all farmers.”

“It’s only our single most important holiday,” you laugh. “And we’re not all farmers. Two of us are dragon riders.” 

Sawyer grins at you, putting a hand up for a high five. “Damn right we are.”

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

Everyone’s eyes widen at the silky orange ribbon tying your hair back. You beam, turning your head to show it off. “Courtesy of the wood-wielder. I have no idea where they got it.”

Your joy is short-lived.

“Precisely what is that, cadet?” Dain asks sharply, and your face falls. There’s only one thing he can be taking issue with, the only spot of color in the sea of black making up your formation.

“It’s a Luceran tradition,” someone says for you — but not Sawyer or any of your friends. “Today is Harvest Day.”

You turn toward the voice, seeing Liam behind you, his eyes locked with Dain’s as if he’s daring the wingleader to argue with him. How does he know about the holiday? Had he overheard your conversation with your squad earlier?

“I expect it to be gone tomorrow,” Dain concedes. “You’re all dismissed.”

You breathe a sigh of relief as everyone files out of the hall.

“Liam?” You ask softly, and he stops, turning toward you. “Thank you.”

Then you see the small block of wood in his hand, the rough shape of another dragon etched into it. “It was you,” you whisper, stunned.

He laughs. “What?”

You reach into your pocket, producing the carving of Cruith. “You made this, right? Were you the one who wrote those physics notes for me when I was in the infirmary, too?” 

He smiles. “Yeah. That was all me.”

Your heart flutters with hope. “Why?”

“Because I was too nervous to say it, but I really like you.”

You blink. Liam, the one who isn’t scared of anything, was nervous to talk to you? And he has a crush on you? You’ve always found him attractive, but you had never thought this a possibility.

“Say something,” Cruith prods, sounding amused.

You finally form words. “Do you want to go into town with me this weekend?”

He blushes, scratching the back of his neck. “I would really like that.”

“Hey, lovebirds, are you coming to breakfast, or what?” Ridoc calls. “Some of us are starving over here!”

You laugh, a sound Liam will never tire of. “Just a minute!” You yell back.

You touch your fingertips to the soft silk, looking up at him. “Thank you, Liam. It really means a lot to me.”

He smiles. “Of course, sweetheart.”

[bokutoko]

oomf...,, idk how to request but,, hoshiumi fic,, abt height difference... pleek 🥹? ty

SAY CHEESE!

character: korai hoshiumi

wc: 776

content: tall!reader; even in the unbearable summer heat, you and hoshiumi are picture-perfect. <3

a/n: hi anon!!! apologies for the late response (i’ve been vacationing before school starts back EW), and thank you for the request (i was at disney for a day so that was my inspiration)! i’ve also actually never written for hoshiumi, so i hope this is to your liking!

Disneyland lied when they said it was the happiest place on earth.

With the heat index at 41°C, you thought you were going to die from heat exhaustion. No matter how much water you drank the day prior, you felt yourself growing fainter by the minute.

“Koraiiiiii,” you whined as you walked through the park to the next ride, “can you buy me a water?”

Hoshiumi cut his eyes up at you, a playful scowl contorting his face. “This is why I told you to bring a water bottle!” He’d been so excited to come visit the park, nothing was going to stop this day—not even your slow death from the heat.

“I did, but could you get me a cold one? Please? I’m dying right now.” You put on your best puppy eyes, your lip jutting out for extra emphasis. He grimaced, trying to stay strong and look away from you.

He then sighed, knowing he lost this fight. With an overly dramatic eye roll, he walked to the nearest stand to buy you a water, grumbling, “I knew we were gonna end up spending $100 on water. I’d much rather buy a lightsaber, but noooo…” Ignoring him, you tried taking a picture of the castle, but your phone didn’t seem to do it justice. You frowned, unhappy with the pics, and quickly deleted all the ones you took.

Upon his return, you smiled at the two water bottles he held. “Thank youuu,” you sang happily with a chaste kiss to his cheek before taking a big swig from your new bottle.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, his blush blending in with the slight sunburn on his cheeks, “Okay! Now it’s time to go ride—“

“Excuse me?”

You both turned to see a smiling cast member holding a camera, and Hoshiumi let out a quiet, exasperated sigh. He just wanted to ride some of the rides!!!

“I saw you taking a picture of the castle, would you two like a photo together in front of it?”

Your eyes lit up at the idea—you and Hoshiumi didn’t have many pictures together, so you wanted one that was special. Even though you were sweaty and overheated, you agreed, “I would love it!”

After the photographer placed you both in the best angle with the castle perfectly behind, she called, “Say cheese!” On cue, Hoshiumi flashed his winning, slightly crooked, smile that still made you giddy. His confident, yet cheeky, eyes gave him the boyish charm that you adore.

The photographer was pleased with the result, so she then added, “Now a silly one!”

Without thinking about it, you reached your arm over, resting it right on his head, as if using him as an arm rest. You looked to the camera with a shit-eating grin. An immediate half-annoyed, half-amused expression crossed Hoshiumi’s face as he met your eyes, before you both started laughing. You were the only one able to tease him about his height without any repercussions; he knew—coming from you—that it was all in good fun. His only scolds came halfheartedly when he joked, “So rude!” with a gentle push.

When the photographer showed you the photos, you noticed your eyes were closed in the silly picture when it was taken. Before you could ask for another, though, you looked at them one more time.

Upon closer examination, you noticed, unbeknownst to you at that time, how Hoshiumi looked up at you. In one specific picture, he had a cheeky smile that was full of laughter as he gazed up at you. He was taking in all your features, with the thin sheen of sweat that gave you a slight glow. Seeing the hearts in his eyes, you felt a blush creep on your face. You knew that look in his eye, the love radiating from the picture. He didn’t need to say the words, “I love you;” his eyes did it for him.

It was perfect timing—a picture captured of him falling in love with you once again.

“And how exactly can I get these pictures?”

—

Beaming at the new photos in your camera roll, your mind was completely distracted from the heat that prickled at your skin. Maybe Disneyland was the happiest place on Earth…

You were getting ready to post the pictures at the same time as you and Hoshiumi finally reached the line for your favorite ride—it would’ve been his first time riding it!

Until you heard the young attendant snicker and ask, “Ya sure you’re tall enough to ride this, kiddo?”

You just sighed when you heard Hoshiumi’s red-hot, “What did you just say?”

… It was gonna be a long day.

masterlist | navigation

please do not copy, alter, or repost my work. ©bokutoko 2024.

[qquinnster]

Raimi parksborn thoughts? I loved that one shot.

full disclosure: i am using this ask as an excuse to yap and i deeply apologize for any tangents i go on. continuing forward.

god, i wish i were more eloquent with character analysis. they are such tragic and complicated little guys even the thought of them makes me sick tbh. i explore harry's pov a lot more b/c 1. that's my boy and 2. what a tragedy holy shiiit. i'm sure i could write a fic solely exploring his relationship with norman osborn because wow! daddy issues doesn't seem to cut it! see, he loves his father. he was never - still isn't - enough for his father but he loves him anyway because norman was all he had, all he thought he really had. these towering expectations, suffocating and pressure-binding, that was the love he knew. such an interesting internal monologue to play around w/.

and even disregarding norman, harry's still a loverboy. "weak" and "sensitive" and "never amounting to anything" harry osborn who is best friends with puny parker. "not a real man" harry osborn falling in love with peter parker, the peter who is avoidant and emotionally distant because "with great power comes responsibility" and "don't tell harry" and honestly because he's a bit of a dick! i love him but god! he is used to not getting what he wants. he is used to trailing after mj and used to watching his best friend destroy himself with alcohol and vengeance and used to the consequences of what happens when you do nothing. like i get it. he's been through a lot. he's trying. but PETERRR. anyway no one does it like him <3 don't get me wrong i like other renditions of peter parker in spider-man media but ughhhgsgh i actively rotate him in my mind.

anyway. i wish raimiverse parksborn was more popular (checks watch) like two decades later because seriously. this version is so compelling and destructive and homoerotic (fyi something about growing up together in high school GETS to me) to the point where it makes me want to BITE someone. kind of on me for being young and spry and joining the spider-man fandom so late (<- the release of insomniacs / msm2 lwk brought me here) but STILL. sam raimi's peter parker & harry osborn will live on forever in my heart i've decided.

ty for reading that lil one-shot and enjoying it btws! i have so many ideas for them haha the one im excited to work on most is a time loop fic after the spiderman-is-peter reveal in sm2 (bc apparently i hyperfixate on that scene a lot) but i do have some other premises (for example: i have like 900 words written of an au where peter loses his memory instead of harry in sm3 and bro's just resisting his violent urges and gay desire simultaneously. it's great) cooking on the back burner. however i do have exam season & job applications to Lock In for so. we'll see what awaits me regarding my ao3 future lmao.

appreciate the ask sm! have a good one anon :o

[hongcherry]

pretty please (hear me out) || c.sc

Seungcheol's four weeks after the Big Argument™ in Chapter 5.

💔 Pairing: Seungcheol x Reader (f) 💔 Rating/Genres/AUs: NC-17; Angst, college au, Pretty Please Couple 💔 Warnings: Reader has she/her pronouns, implications of slut-shaming, name-calling, bullying 💔 Word Count: 2.8k 💔 Author’s Note: Been in the drafts for ages and I've finally finished it 😪

pretty please masterpost | seventeen masterlist | main masterlist

this blog is 18+. minors do not interact. plz & ty!

Seungcheol knows he royally fucked up.

He knows he just said the stupidest shit ever in his life.

He knows he may have just lost you forever.

He wants to slam his fist into the drywall to expel all the frustration he’s feeling. His legs urge him to chase Jeonghan’s car so he can convince you to talk to him.

He just wants to make this right.

“You gonna talk about what just happened?” Chan inquires while watching Seungcheol pace his living room.

“I’m such a fucking idiot,” Seungcheol growls.

“What did you do?” Jun asks.

“I—” Seungcheol begins to reply, but just recalling his dumbass words makes him halt and huff instead.

“Take a breath, hyung. I’m sure you two can make up,” Chan tries to reassure.

“Here’s some water,” Soonyoung says, coming back from the kitchen and offering a cold glass.

Seungcheol mutters a thanks and takes a long swig. Despite the coldness feeling refreshing to his heated body, he doesn’t calm down.

There’s a knock at the door that startles everyone. Seungcheol slams the glass down and rushes to open it.

In his mind, he knows it’s not really you, but in his heart, he hopes it is.

“I’m back,” Jeonghan says sheepishly. “And I come bearing a gift.”

Jeonghan slowly raises Seungcheol’s car keys. Seungcheol snatches them and tries to make a beeline for his car, but Jeonghan stops him with a hand on his chest.

“I would give her some time,” he explains.

Seungcheol shakes his head. “No, I need to apologize to her.”

Jeonghan eases him into the apartment again, locking the door.

“You know she’s not going to listen to you,” he sighs.

“He’s got a point,” Jun interjects timidly.

“Yeah, you’re both really upset. You two should calm down before having any conversation,” Soonyoung adds.

Seungcheol’s first response is to ignore them. He doesn’t want his words to linger in your mind more than they already have. He doesn’t want you to see him as a bad person despite it might be too late.

He’s just eager to save the good pieces of the relationship before they get tarnished too.

But he knows his friends are right.

He’ll probably make matters worse.

Seungcheol tosses his keys on the stand and staggers to his seat again.

“Did she get home safe?” Seungcheol asks Jeonghan after a moment of tense silence.

Jeonghan nods.

“Good,” he mumbles.

The room falls silent. No one says a word and the air grows thicker as each minute passes.

Finally, Soonyoung says, “Is there anything we can do for you?”

Seungcheol continues to stare a hole into his flooring. A lot is being processed in his mind and he’s starting to feel numb.

“No,” he answers dully.

Soonyoung glances at Jeonghan as if silently asking for help.

Jeonghan sighs. “Maybe we can help lessen the situation if you tell us what happened,” he tries.

Seungcheol leans forward, elbows on his knees and head planted in his hands.

“I basically called her a campus whore,” he huffs out.

“W-What?” Jun and Chan gasp in unison, only making Seungcheol’s heart heavier with guilt.

“Did she do something that made you say that?” Jeonghan wonders.

“I thought she told Dae she was a virgin, and I found that hard to believe. I said some stupid shit after.”

They’re quiet again for some time.

Seungcheol, unable to stand the judgmental silence, pushes himself from his seat to pace the room again. Images of you in the same room appear in his mind—the scene playing out once more.

“Do you really think she’s a,” Chan trails off, not wanting to repeat Seungcheol’s words.

“No, so I don’t know why I said it,” he groans.

“Maybe you believe the rumors more than you think you do,” Soonyoung says.

“It doesn’t help Hajun, Hana, and Doyun talk down on her, too,” Jun adds.

“They’ve always been the gossipers.” Soonyoung frowns.

Seungcheol groans as he falls back in his seat, defeated.

“She’s never going to forgive me,” he insists.

“Give her some time. Hopefully, once you both talk, it’ll get better,” Chan says.

“Just show you’re sorry and make sure she knows you don’t actually believe what you said,” Soonyoung chimes in.

“I doubt she’ll even listen to me for five minutes,” Seungcheol scoffs, annoyed he put himself in this position.

“She definitely won’t right now, which is why you need to give her space,” Jeonghan says.

“Let’s go eat. Maybe some food will help you think about how to fix this,” Jun suggests.

Although Seungcheol wants to stay indoors and have guilt consume him, he agrees to go. Maybe it will help.

Seungcheol watches you detour from him on campus for the sixth time. It’s been nearly two weeks and you refuse to speak to him. Hell, you act as if seeing him will burn your eyes out. He’s become a plagued rat to you.

You want nothing to do with him.

He knew you were upset and would ignore him the first few attempts, but he didn’t expect you to drop him from your life completely.

He just needs five minutes of your time. He needs you to know he deeply regrets the words he said. He hasn’t been able to think of a way to prove it to you, but he figures putting distance between him and Hajun would be a good start.

“No luck?” someone asks behind him.

Seungcheol turns to see Joshua.

“I think she’s done with me,” Seungcheol replies, gaze still on the spot where you had turned the corner.

“She’ll come around,” he says.

Seungcheol shakes his head. “No, I don’t think she will.”

As he says those words, another chip falls from his broken heart. He hadn’t realized how much he had grown to like you until you stormed out his door that weekend. Sure, he knew he liked you more than a friend, but not to this extent.

Though perhaps he’s feeling so strongly because you paint him as a villain. He hates knowing you think so badly about him. He said some very untrue, very fucked up shit, but he’s not a bad person.

At least he hopes he’s not.

Joshua places a friendly hand on Seungcheol’s shoulders.

“Don’t be so sure,” Joshua says.

Seungcheol finally looks at his friend. There’s not much hope in his eyes.

Seungcheol stares at the flood of messages he’s sent you.

Still no response.

Sighing, he exits out of the app and sets his phone down. Maybe he’s just digging himself a deeper hole. Maybe all the texts and attempted talks irritate you. Perhaps all you think about is that damned conversation when you see his name or see his face. There’s a possibility you’ll never forgive him.

“You’ve barely started,” Hajun says as she leans over to his side of the table. Her gaze is on the open document on the screen. He’s only managed to type four paragraphs in the past hour.

“We have to turn this in in two weeks,” she continues with a disapproving expression.

Seungcheol subtly scoots away.

“I know,” he replies. “I’ll get my part done in time. Don’t worry.”

Hajun doesn’t take the hint and stares at him.

“Is something going on with you? You’ve been distracted in class and… slower with finishing your work,” she observes.

“Nothing you need to know about,” Seungcheol says.

“Everything okay with your family?” she questions.

“Yeah. Don’t worry about me.”

She frowns and rests her hand over his. Her touch lacks the warmth and jittery feelings he used to get from someone else.

“I can’t help it,” she says. “I care.”

“Plus, if you slack off, we have to pick up the work,” Doyun teases.

“I said I’ll get it done.” Seungcheol’s tone is a bit firmer. He slides his hand from Hajun’s and stands up.

“I’m going to get something to drink,” he announces. After closing his laptop, he steps out of the study room. His mind takes him back to when you stood outside this very same room. You were dressed in such bright colors that you looked out of place. However, he hadn’t felt like you were. It had felt right to have you so near.

Now, the hallway is empty.

Just like his heart.

When Seungcheol sees you in the cafeteria two days later, he turns away.

His heart seems torn in two. One half screams at him to stomp over and recite the speech he’s created in his head; the other half says it’s too late for redemption.

He isn’t putting in the towel, but he’s giving you the space you want. He’s decided to stop pestering you with text messages and campus visits. It’s obvious his advances aren’t doing him any good. If he ends up frustrating you more, you’ll never hear him out. Maybe you need to come to him instead.

But maybe you never will.

Seungcheol’s appetite dissipates. He walks back to the business building, finds a quiet place to sit, and falls asleep slumped to the side. The last memory he has before greeting slumber is holding you from behind after Seoah had left the living room in his apartment. He remembers teasing you and feeling content with his arms around you. He wonders if he’ll ever get that opportunity again.

Seungcheol sulks at the grade glaring at him.

He’s had worse, but it’s been a few years since he got them.

A shoulder bumps into him. He sets down his phone and looks up. Hajun smiles, pointing to his phone.

“I got a 93. Did I finally beat you?” she teases.

Seungcheol nods his head.

Hajun’s smile grows as she leans over his table.

“Really?” she asks.

“Yeah,” he says, lacking her enthusiasm.

“So, what’d you get?” she questions and takes the empty seat beside him.

“A 66,” he answers, shifting his gaze away.

Hajun gasps. “You’re not playing a game with me, are you?”

“No,” he sighs.

She pauses for a moment then leans in close like she’s about to tell him a secret.

“Is it because of Yn?”

There’s a subtle distaste when she says your name that makes him annoyed.

“Not everything is because of her,” he replies.

“Maybe, but a lot,” Hajun says.

Seungcheol turns his gaze to her. “Like?”

“For starters your low grades,” she replies unhesitatingly. Seungcheol begins to instantly regret asking. “Then, there’s your cranky attitude. You’ve been in a sour mood for weeks.”

She shifts closer to inspect him. Seungcheol moves away, not liking how much she’s in his bubble.

“Wait, I haven’t seen her lately. Is that why you’re… like this?” Hajun asks. She tries to mask the disgust she feels, but Seungcheol notices it.

“Where has she been? Too busy with that silly fashion show?” she continues.

“It’s not silly,” Seungcheol says.

Hajun gives him a look of disbelief. “Seriously? Her whole major is silly.”

Seungcheol takes a deep breath to calm himself down. At first, Seungcheol also didn’t understand why you would major in something frivolous, but he’s seen how passionate you are about the field. He knows how hard you work for your goals, and he finds that admirable. He supports you because he can see how much it means to you.

“Just drop it, Hajun,” he mumbles.

“Or maybe,” she begins to say with a smirk. “Was the sex really that disappointing?”

Seungcheol narrows his eyes; his body becomes rigid.

Hajun’s eyes widen. “You two actually had sex?! Really, Seungcheol? With her?”

“That’s none of your business, Hajun,” he nearly growls.

Seungcheol typically tries not to show frustration toward his friends, but she’s stepped over the line. Again.

“I told you she wasn’t worth it,” she sighs, frowning. Her voice becomes softer. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

Seungcheol picks up his phone and backpack.

“Yeah, do what I said earlier and drop it,” he grumbles, rising from his seat.

Hajun watches with big eyes, a little stunned by his harsh response. She silently pleads for him to stay.

“I—I just want you to be happy,” she says.

No, she just wants him to be happy doing what she wants. He realizes she doesn’t even apologize for what she’s said.

He doesn’t reply and finds another seat in the classroom. Thankfully, she doesn’t follow. He can feel her eyes on him, but he ignores it. He’s tempted to leave the room entirely, but with his low grades, he needs to attend the lecture.

Hana, Doyun, and Vernon walk into the room a few minutes later. Hana looks confused to see him and Hajun sitting on opposite sides of the room. Hana hesitates for a second before deciding to sit with Hajun. Doyun follows her while Vernon splits and sits by him.

“You alright?” Vernon asks as he gets his supplies from his bag.

“Should I say yes?” he questions, sinking lower in his seat from the weight of his problems.

“No,” Vernon says.

“Then no. I’m not,” Seungcheol huffs.

“Want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“Okay,” Vernon pauses. “I’m here though whenever.”

Seungcheol looks at his friend. He offers a small smile.

“Thanks,” he says.

Vernon returns the expression and nods.

Even though Seungcheol tries his hardest to pay attention, his mind wanders frequently. He checks his phone even though he knows you haven’t texted him. Would you ever again?

The question brings back memories of you. He remembers going out of town with his family for spring break and texting you any chance he got. He remembers being teased about being a phone-addict. He’s not usually, but he felt like it then. He’d check his phone and be excited to see your messages. 

He also remembers talking to you on the phone for hours once he got back. He enjoyed learning more about you; he almost felt a little special that you allowed him your time. He knew you were busy, yet you had talked to him until he started falling asleep.

He shoves the device deep in his pockets, hoping he can do the same with his thoughts. 

Seungcheol doesn’t have a break between classes and heads directly to his next classroom with Vernon. Neither of them speaks much, and he’s grateful his friend understands his need for privacy. Vernon’s never been the one to push him to speak before he’s ready, and he appreciates that aspect of Vernon.

Like before, he still struggles with following along. He can review his notes later; hopefully, some of the content will come back to him.

After class, Vernon bid Seungcheol goodbye. It’s Seungcheol’s last class of the day and normally, he’d head home, but on days when he’s falling behind, he stays on campus. He often feels more focused. However before he can crack open his books, he needs a refresher.

Seungcheol leaves the business building and makes his way toward the central hub that houses several beverage and food options. He pushes the doors open and starts heading straight for the drinks line. However, familiar voices make his footsteps slow.

“She must’ve really needed to use the bathroom,” Mingyu says.

“Or maybe she ditched us,” Jeonghan replies with a chuckle.

Seungcheol takes a quick glance around and spots his friends near the pickup counter.

“We’ve got her drink, though,” Mingyu says, emphasizing his point by gesturing to one of the cups Jeonghan holds.

“I’ll go see if she’s lost,” Jeonghan sighs and leaves.

Seungcheol’s not sure who they’re talking about, but something in his gut says it’s about you.

Seungcheol detours and stops in front of Mingyu.

“Oh, hey,” Mingyu greets with a toothy grin.

“Hey,” Seungcheol replies.

“How were classes?” Mingyu asks.

Seungcheol shrugs, not feeling like doing small talk. He doesn’t want to seem too eager to talk about you, but he can’t help it.

“You here alone?” Seungcheol questions, knowing damn well he’s not.

Mingyu shakes his head. “No, I’m with Jeonghan and Yn… Speaking of, Jeonghan went to go check on her and hasn’t come back.”

As Mingyu speaks, his features become more puzzled. He turns without a word toward where Jeonghan went. Seungcheol follows.

Mingyu rounds the corner, asking, “Is she okay? What’s taking so long?”

Hajun is smiling at Jeonghan nearby while you stand a few feet away, a mixture of emotions on your face. But amidst them all is pain.

Seungcheol’s own heart squeezes at knowing something is wrong. Though, something’s been wrong.

And it’s then he realizes you’re doing something you haven’t done in weeks.

You’re looking at him for longer than three seconds.

It sounds ridiculous, but you’ve been avoiding him so much that a simple stare feels like stumbling upon a four-leaf clover.

Your gaze stirs something inside his chest. Something akin to hope.

Hope that you’ll finally hear him out.

Hope that you’ll forgive him one day.

Hope that you’ll let him back into your life.

He wants it all so badly.

A/N: More to come eventually 😫

Taglist: @ellllsia, @cheolcherries, @oncloudvii23, @mystikha, @lithelust, @doom-fics

©️hongcherry // DO NOT REPOST OR MODIFY Please consider reblogging if you liked this work to show your support. Feedback/commentary is always welcomed.

[vigilskept]

10 for dinara & the new mercar

10. Does Rook know their history? Do they know of the HoF, Hawke, the Inquisitor?

(i think? i've been extremely slow at working through my inbox so please correct me if i’m mixing up the set of 50 questions!)

dinara de riva:

in general? she knows a little. less than most crows when it comes to internal politics in antiva (bc she mostly takes contracts on kossith) but she still knows who's at war with who/for how long, which side the major crow houses are backing, etc.

she was only 4 during the blight, so all her info comes from her circle education. she knows the HoF was from denerim's alienage and that he died ending the blight (does NOT know abt him & zevran or that zevran's the guy who's been taking out crows)

she knows even less about hawke than the hof. she's heard more about anders from varric than she has about hawke, it's that dire.

varric signed it on his behalf, but this is still an inquisition contract, so she gathers a decent amount of intel on lord trevelyan. from that + the comments varric & harding made about him when they thought she was out of earshot, she's concluded that andraste's herald is probably a bit of a prick. this is an accurate assessment.*

tavian mercar:

military families get pretty good education as far as soporati go, but the history curriculum is very tevene. he knows all the major wars/rebellions and knows his archons and black divines better than he'd like, but not nearly as much about the rest of thedas

warden commander mahariel's name is known as far away as minrathous, and often spoken in derogatory terms. it's common knowledge that the major southern port of amaranthine should be avoided by any slavers who want to keep their lives and cargo

varric doesn't talk about hawke much in this worldstate either, but that's because it's better for people to keep thinking she's stuck in the fade so they don't ask questions about how her apostate girlfriend got her out of there. as far as tavian knows, isabela's semi-retired merc gf is just another lord of fortune

inquisitor lavellan is a big deal. tavian's only been with the shadow dragons for about 4 years, but he's heard enough from his colleagues to know that she played a pretty big role in bringing magister pavus and the lucerni into their network, and that she's helped them form diplomatic ties with the northern dalish clans. he's a bit awed by her, even after he meets her

50 questions for rook

[sillybilly-room21]

Hello.

Sorry to bother you, but I'd like to hear your thoughts .

This is about Candyman's mutation.

What do you think:

How did the mutation process itself go ?

How much did the mutation change his anatomy?

hi before i respond i’d like to tell you that one, apologies for the late response, and two, when i first got this inbox i let out a giggle that sounded like a horse’s neigh.

anyway, since candyman canonically tastes sour (WEIRD start but trust me on this, also heard from someone that it’s canon so i’m kind of just saying “hell yeah” with it) i’m thinking that his head is an actual multi-layered jawbreaker. I’m thinking that the scientists added the chemicals/candy to his body layer by layer every once in a while (waiting between weeks) to see how the stuff reacts and just kept going with it.

i made a progress chart just for this all because i really like this question

they just added stuff onto candyman as if he were an art project, slowly adding more layers day by day and convinced him that murder was okay.

since he doesn’t have a nose he probably just breathes out of his skin like a frog blehh hence why he looks like one

i feel like the mutation only changed his head, body composition, voice, and memory, everything else like his organs are ay-okay.

oke this question was reallay fun to answer ty for asking!!!!

[drunknillawafer]

right down the line: zuko x firebender!reader | part 6

You grew up close to the Royal Family due to your father's position as a General, but you ran away from home after the agni kai against your best friend, Zuko. Now, you've joined the Gaang and plan on doing your part in ending the 100-year war.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 7

hellooo part 6 oo we're in book 2 territory now... also i am changing stuff to fit my character into this world so just be open to those changes plzzz i do not own these characters and they are not mine! i hope you guys are liking the story so far! I'm so excited I'm already thinking about what I'm going to do when book 3 comes around... rmr to like reblog or comment, i truly want to know ur thoughts because this is my first fic so i hope I'm doing a good job. thank you to everyone who has supported it so far!! even if its 17 ppl idc like that's 17 individuals who bother to read what i write so... thank you!! enjoy >.< about 2000 words

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙

It was a day like the others, the year before Ozai’s unfair punishment. I’d go to the Royal Palace after school to play or practice, whichever we felt like.

When Zuko and I opened the door that led to the duck pond, his little sister, Azula, was already there with her friends, Ty Lee and Mai.

Azula’s already proven to be ruthless for a 10-year-old. She’s constantly reminding Zuko of his ‘failure’ to live up to the responsibility of Fire Lord just because he’s not as vicious as her. In this home, they favored brutality over honor, and if you know Zuko, he’s all honor. Even at twelve years old, you can tell he won’t grow to be like his father before him and it’s a problem.

She’s only gotten worse since their mother disappeared 2 years ago. No one knows the specifics, but Azula says their grandfather ordered the Fire Lord to kill Zuko and she never lets him forget it.

As we walk toward our usual spot, the little girl comes up to us.

“Zuzu, come play with us!” she says with a hint of mischief in her voice.

“No! I’m busy.” Zuko replies, brushing her off. We continue walking to reach the other side of the pasture, far away from his sister and her friends.

“Fine.” With Azula, fine isn’t just fine. It’s code for I’ll get you somehow.

But I try to keep my thoughts about her to myself. She is younger than us and I’m not scared of her. It’s Zuko she doesn’t see as a threat. As for me, she’s known not to push it. Since we all have the same fire-bending master, she’s well aware I’m better than the both of them.

When we reach our spot, we sit to take our swords from their sheaths. Today it’s blades, yesterday it was bending. We almost forget Azula’s in our vicinity when Mai comes crashing down onto Zuko, making her blush.

Mai is a year younger than us, and she’s always had this crush on him. Everyone knows. I know.

But unlike Azula, I don’t humiliate her with the fact. Even if the thought of Zuko returning the feelings makes me uncomfortable.

Mai quickly gets up and apologizes for stumbling on top of him and Zuko, in all his emotional glory, yells at his sister. “Stop it! It’s not funny.”

She grins with her arms folded. “Oh, but it is, dumb-dumb. I told you to play with me!”

“That’s not how you get people to play with you!” I stand up for him, knowing it’s a losing battle if he’s all alone in his defense.

“Whatever.” She replies and focuses her attention on Ty Lee’s handstand. Probably thinking of a way to ruin that too.

It’s clear we won’t be left alone to spar in peace.

“Want to go to my room?” He asks. Familiar amber eyes gazing into mine.

Butterflies appear in my stomach. I’ve been to his room thousands of times, millions if it was possible. It wasn’t abnormal. But lately, I can’t stop these stupid bugs.

My feelings for my best friend are changing, I just hope his are too.

“Sure.”

A few weeks have passed since the failed ambush of the Northern Water Tribe by the Fire Nation. Admiral Zhao is presumed dead, and the empire retreated. They were long gone, and this loss was too shameful to ever attempt something like it again.

Though, the adrenaline from the win would be nothing compared to the loss felt by the masses. We lost some people, rebuilding was commencing, and the tribe had lost their princess. The Chief had lost his daughter.

While it pained Sokka and I to inform him of the news, what he said in return brought peace to all of us. He said he had a vision of a beautiful young woman sacrificing her life for her people and it wasn’t until that fateful day that he knew it was his daughter. Warmth embraced us all after he spoke. What better way to show your love for your people than to become the moon itself? It was bittersweet. To know she couldn’t walk with us but be with us wherever we go on planet Earth.

If only I knew how I felt about encountering Zuko for the first time in three years.

I honestly didn’t know what to think, act, or be. It all happened so fast.

Having to save Aang in the middle of our encounter distracted me long enough. Letting down the Chief and Yue becoming the moon spirit distracted me long enough. Hell, seeing Iroh for the first time in a while distracted me long enough. But eventually, the dust settles and there’s nothing but his face in my thoughts.

His hair is different, and he looks… sharper around the edges. He’s stronger and his bending is different than before, more determined and intentional. He seems tired.

I replay our interaction in my head multiple times a day, sometimes in my dreams. Each time, I think about what I could have said instead. Other times he doesn’t strike me in the ribs. But then I wake up or come back to reality and the scar of his burn on my side reminds me: he’s no longer my Zuko.

I mourn the gentle boy I once knew.

All our good moments flash through my mind like an orchestrated play. Growing up together. Elementary memories of playing and later, practicing our sparring and bending together. Silent moments where we both sat and stared as the sun painted orange across the sky, once we were done for the day. Being the first person we looked for at a royal party and feeling relief when our eyes locked together, assuring that we won’t spend the night bored out of our minds. Silly things I didn’t think I’d miss so much.

But it was hard to feel bad for him when he was someone else entirely.

I shouldn’t have, but I took it easy on him. I thought there was some sort of silent agreement that we would never hurt each other, like when we were sparring. But at some point in time, practice became fighting, and nobody told me.

I spent three years thinking about this exact moment and I never once thought we’d be on two different sides of this war.

It was different for him, I suppose. He stopped practicing the moment Ozai told him to get up and fight.

The swirl of feelings dizzied me, going from I hate him to I missed him. From where is he? to I think I could find him if I tried.  

But I don’t know how that would land on Aang, Katara, and Sokka.

Zuko’s been terrorizing them since Aang came out of the ice, before they crossed paths with Jet and me. I’m not even sure how they feel about my past with their first enemy. I’ll make a note to ask later.

I’ve been in my head the entire time we went through the cave of two lovers. I think some badger moles got us out and the nomads went their own way once we made it through.

Apparently, we’re heading to Omashu so Aang can learn earth-bending from his old friend, King Bumi.

Sokka’s catching me up to speed, but his voice sounds like it could be a thousand miles away from my mind. “It’s pretty cool, I didn’t really like being trapped and thinking I was going to die but that’s not the point- Hey, are you okay?” He grabs my elbow and stops us in our tracks. His eyes look into mine, looking for me.

He shares a glance with Katara that prompts her to say, “Let's take a break from walking, guys. Aang, c'mon I think I see some water. I want to see what you know before you become an earth-bender.”

“Okay!” The young Avatar replies, eager for alone time with his favorite person. They smile at me before leaving, and I feel left out of a certain loop.

Once they’re far away enough, I reply to Sokka’s question. “I’m okay, why?”

“You’ve just been off… since the invasion.” He scratches the back of his neck as he confesses his concerns.

“It was a lot, I mean. Yue—”

“I know, but you’ve pulled away from all of us.” Almost shyly, he continues, “From me.”

“Oh.”

“But we all want to know if you’re okay.” He hurries to add.

“I’ve been thinking about some stuff is all.” I let out a sigh, a poor attempt at trying to let go of what’s bothering me. “I just hadn’t seen him in a long time. And when I do, he’s fighting me.” I look down at my boots, begging for the dry dirt to become quicksand. My cheeks are getting hot and the familiar knot in my throat is forming. This is why I didn’t want to talk about it.

“Yeah, he does that.” Sokka scoffs. “He’s a jerk. He can be mean to us, I get it! The Avatar and everything. But being mean to you was unnecessary.”

The knot in my throat quickly forms into a tone that’s harsher than I mean it. “Was it?” Sokka’s taken aback and instantly, I’m regretful for it. “Sorry… I don’t know what I feel.”

I investigate his icy stare and for the first time, I feel the distance I’ve put between us. Unfortunately, I think it’s there to stay.

He raises his hands in defense, “I get it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Did you like him?” I finally understand what he’s been saying. Why he wanted to talk. He wanted to talk about us and how Zuko fits into that equation.

“No—I… uh...” the words leave me.

“I see.”

"That's not a confession."

"Then say no."

“Does it matter?” I ask, becoming irritated with his attitude.

“Does it?” Sokka’s stern voice rarely makes an appearance, but when it does, it surprises me. Leave it to Zuko to cause an argument when he’s not even here.

Before I can answer, Katara and Aang return, looking chippier than we do.

“Break’s over?” she asks us, furrowing her brows as she takes in our body language.

“Yeah, it’s over.” Sokka huffs and walks away, leading us to our destination.

☆

With Sokka guiding us, he proudly gestures towards the Earth Kingdom land. “Ladies and gentlemen, the city of Omashu!” When I finally intake what they’ve all been talking about, I know what we see isn’t what they were describing.

“Oh no.” Aang says for all of us.

The fire emblems are too loud to ignore. Omashu’s been occupied.

☆

As the four of us stand in our fight mode, ready to negotiate Bumi for the Mayor’s baby boy, I see three girls in the distance. I see her first.

My heart drops down to my core, the way it did when I first saw Zuko after all these years. Just when I thought the reunions were over, the universe shows me exactly what it is I ran away from. Finally, after all this time, I have to face what I did.

“No.” I mumble.

“What?” Aang asks. They all turn to me. Now that they know who I am, they know I must know whoever is coming to negotiate on the empire’s behalf.

I should have known it would be Mai, but her little brother was not born when I last saw her. When we all went to the Royal Fire Academy for Girls.

I don’t have enough time to warn them, you never do when she’s involved.

“It’s Azula.”

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

tag list <3: @camilleverreault @staygoldsquatchling02

[joszns]

hii i love your writing so much i cannot even function❤️!! do you think you can write about reader having an attitude which ellie HATES and then reader mumbles smth like “then get rid of it” and ellie hears so she fucks the attitude out of reader w her strap🤭🤭

OMGOGMGOGM absofuckinglutely

This was sm fun to write Ty anon!!!!

warnings: overstim, pet names (babe, baby), ellie going craycray w it

ellie was sick of you.

not you as a person per say, but that damn attitude you had all day long. it was bothering her.

to begin, you had woken up late. not that it’s her fault, ellie tried to get you up when you had asked but you just flat out refused. that seemed to kickstart a day full of sassy remarks, quips, eye rolling, and “whatever you wanna do, I don’t care.”

the last straw for ellie was dinner.

“hey babe, how was class?” she said as you walked in the door.

“fine. professor martindale is still a bitch. what’s all this?” you asked flatly. ellie furrowed her brows with slight annoyance.

“i made us dinner since i know you’ve had a bad day.” ellie matched your tone in her response, the pot of your favorite soup still warm on the stove.

“what’s with your attitude all of a sudden?” you asked, setting your things down.

“oh?? you wanna talk about me? i should be asking you that. all day long, all you’ve been doing is snapping at me. i love you, but i do not love that attitude.”

you sighed. “damn, then get rid of it.”

“what was that?”

ellie stepped closer to you.

“nothin’ ellie. thanks for dinner.”

“i think you and I both know what you said.” she replied, her calloused finger hooking on the belt loop of your jeans and pulling you closer.

“i think i know just how to put a stop to this nasty behavior of yours.”

and stop it she did.

ellie thrusted into you relentlessly, her strong hand pushing your upper back into the mattress.

you were a mess beneath her, incoherent apologies and curses falling from your lips repeatedly. she was hitting it nonstop and-fuck-!

“m’sorry!” you screamed as ellie brought her hand to your stomach, pressing hard on your lower abdomen and pulling your hips into her.

“yeah? you’re sorry? you learned your lesson?” ellie grunted out, the base of her strap creating delicious friction on her clit.

you moaned in response, desperately trying to get away from her relentless pace, it was too much, it felt too good.

“im sorry!”

“see baby, this is all you need,” her hand moved down and began rubbing your puffy clit, “a good-fuck-a good dicking down. cmon babe, yeah, cum all on my dick.” ellie said, watching you get closer to your peak.

“so sweet now that im filling you up…” she grunted, and you came for the maybe 7th time? you had lost count.

you cried her name out, body trembling like a leaf as your orgasm ripped through your body. your legs clamped shut over hers, holding her hips to you.

“please please-i can’t-ellie please!” you sobbed.

“im sorry, baby. i just hate when you have such an attitude, i got rid of it the only way i know.” ellie said, pulling out and slowly helping your hips relax into the bed.

“it won’t happen ‘mgain.” you mumbled. you lay there, twitching occasionally, absolutely fucked out and in bliss.

.she absolutely would do this though?? it’s canon??

[happilyjoyfulcrow]

But I Can't

Hobie x Reader

Word count: 1,000

Summary: You joining the Spider-Army has been a point of tension in your relationship.

Warnings: Angst, hurt, I had no idea how to end the story so apologies in advance.

🎸--------------------------------🎸-----------------------------------🎸

It had been three months since Hobie, your boyfriend, had told you he was the famous Spider-Punk. Three months of knowing exactly what he’s doing and being able to do nothing to help. To say it was eating away at you would be an understatement. Hearing about the Spider-Army he had built up during his time as Spider-Punk has been a point of tension in your relationship. 

Why wouldn’t he let you join? You've proven that you can handle it. From the various protests of his you have gone to. Yeah they’d quickly turn into riots that resulted in you going on a mad dash to get away from. But still!       

Right now you both were cuddling on the bed in your flat. Hobie’s eyes were closed, his breath was even, but you could tell he wasn’t asleep by the way his fingers drew random patterns and shapes on your skin. You didn’t want to ruin the moment but the question was eating you alive. 

“Hey Hobs?” You asked, still mulling over your words.

“Hmm?” The sound came deep, rumbling through his chest.  

“Why can’t I join the Spider-Army?” 

Hobie groans, getting up and turning away from you as he makes his way towards the door. 

“I ain't talkin’ bout this” Crossing the doorway, he leaves you behind in the bedroom. 

“Hobie!” you call trying to follow him out, but you were too late. He’d already swung out the window leaving you standing in the middle of your flat alone.

The next several times you’d try to bring it up went to a very similar tune. The first try he walks out on you, again.

“Why can’t I?” you said, blocking his exit. 

“Cuz it’s dangerous,” he says, pushing you to the side.

“So?” your response back with.

“So that's it” Hobie says, taking his leave.

The second time he shuts you down and changes the topic. 

“Is it something I’ve done?” You asked him while in a restaurant. He can’t walk out and leave you this time.

“Really Here? Now?” he asks exasperated.

“Yes here and now, Why can’t I join?” you press.

“Let's have a nice night out, what food do you want?” 

“I want to know why you're so against me joining,” you state plainly.

“What do you think ‘bout splitting a pizza? Half cheese half pepperoni?”

“Hobie, I'm serious!” 

“And I’m serious about this pizza!” He jokes pulling with a lop-sided smile across his face. 

“...Pizza sounds good” you sign and drop the topic. 

The third time you try you do it infront of friends. 

“The rest of you get to be a part of the Spider-Army! I don’t see why I can’t!” You tell the group.

“Love, will ya come off it?” Hobie signs. 

“Come on, I need to get away from that place and get drunk!” One of Hobie’s band mates says, taking another swing of they’re drink. 

“Come on Y/n, have a drink, let's have some fun before we gotta go back to our lives!” Another person in the group calls.

“Next rounds on me!” and you were quickly left behind yet again.

“Nice try, lovely” Hobie said, kissing you on your cheek.  

After that your attempts at bringing it up became less and less successful. You almost completely dropped it. Almost. 

It was late at night and Hobie had come back from patrol worse for wear. You were patching him up in the bathroom. After tying up the last stitch you pack up the first aid and tuck it back into the cupboard. Walking back over to Hobie still sitting on the toilet where you left him. You come over to him and wrap your arms around him. 

“I don't know what I’d do without ya” he says the last words slurring together as he rests his head against your shoulder, hands holding your waist.

“You know,” you say, drawing circles on his back. “I could be a lot more help if I were in the  Spider-Army.”

“We’ve talked about this,” Hobie grumbles, beginning to stand up.

“No, I’ve brought it up and you’ve shut me down!” you say pushing him back down on the toilet.

“I don’t want you joining,” he says, reaching for your hands.

“You've made that abundantly clear” you grumble.

“It’s dangerous” finally grabbing your hands and holding them in his.

“I can handle danger” you interject. “I can handle-”

“But I can’t handle it!” he shouts, looking you in the eyes. You can see how desperate he is.

“What?” you ask confused.

“But I can’t handle it.” he says again, voice quieter. “When we go to those protests and the pigs start throwing tear gas at us, or when one of them crooks starts something on the street. I just…”

“You just what?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper.

“I just can’t lose you. If you get hurt or...” he says trailing off, pulling your hands closer to him. “I’d never forgive myself. Hell, I can barely forgive myself when I put you in those situations.”      

“Hobie, Sider-Punk, the Spider-Army that is a part of your world. I want to be a part of that too” you say softly, cupping his cheeks.

“Please Y/n, I can’t lose you” Hobie says tears welling up at the corner of his eyes. 

“Hobs, that's how I feel everytime I see you leave, swinging out the window. If I can do something to make sure you get home safe or that I can be there when something goes wrong. I want to be there, I want to help.” 

Hobie looked deep into your eyes trying to find any cracks in your resolve. When he finds nothing he brings your hands to his lips he kisses your knuckles. 

“I can’t take that chance.”

“I’m just gonna keep bringing it up.” You reason.

“And Imma just gonna keep telling ya no” he says with a small smile coming to his face. “I’m keepin’ ya safe whether you like it or not.”