#unable to completely follow any one ask haha

[noroi1000]

Can I request a part 2 of the evil queen ff ( gojo x reader ) where a woman wants to take the place of queen y/n ( not obviously knowing how powerful y/n is ) possibly by trying to show she’s much better than queen y/n when she can’t even be compared to her and tries seducing gojo ( which doesn’t work ) and become a mistress/concubine of his and then become the queen lol even having the audacity to think so bcs now both y/n n gojo have twin sons ( each of them look like their parents exactly but are momma’s boys lol ). I hope u understood what i’m trying to say haha

Have a nice day 🌸

Evil Queen 2

Warnings: NSFW King Gojo x Queen reader

"My lady, do you really think this is a good idea? I heard that queen (y/n)–"

"I don't need your advice. I don't care who this (y/n) is. Don't you think I'd make a better queen?" she asked with a smile as her maid dyed her lips a juicy pink.

She was a guest there.

In your castle.

As the daughter of one of the most powerful rulers, she was their guest of honor. They could not give her any other accommodation than royal.

Only that was possible.

She and her father were on a diplomatic trip to a farther kingdom to realize her royal engagement.

But she had other motives and plans.

She didn't want to go on to marry some ordinary prince.

She wanted a king who was powerful and handsome. Rich and young.

A twenty-eight-year-old king with a wife and two children?

He's an easy bite for her.

Especially since he was into her taste.

Tall and handsome.

She was mainly concerned with his status, since she would be the mate of the king of such a powerful and wealthy kingdom.

That was all it was about.

She did not want to be a princess of the state.

She wanted to be queen.

If she became Gojo Satoru's concubine, maybe at some point she would be so appreciated that the king would divorce his wife so that she would sit on the throne with him. To dethrone his wife, any was his concubine and bore him children if they wanted.

She doesn't want a baby. She wants to rule.

And he already has an heir. That's why they don't need to have a baby.

But if he wanted to... Let him do what he wants.

According to her, men want only one thing.

All she has to do is undress in front of him and show what she wants. And he is hers.

Men only think about sex.

And when they see a naked woman ready to give herself to them, they lose their minds about it.

"My lady, you would certainly make a suitable queen, but—"

"Suitable? I'd be the perfect queen!" She snarled. "Do my lips look luscious and full enough yet? Is that enough to make him unable to look away?"

"My lady, you certainly look beautiful. But what are you planning?" asked the maid as the woman stood up.

"What am I planning? Of course I want to be married to King Satoru!"

"But his wife-"

"I can dethrone his wife." she laughed. "A king can do anything. And I'm sure he didn't have much fun with her since they have two children."

"D-Dethrone?"

"Yes. I will be his concubine. He will love my body and me. So he'll prefer someone who hasn't been pregnant. I have the body of a teenage girl, don't you think?"

"I'm not sure the King would prefer the body of a teenage girl to his wife..." whispered the maid.

"What were you saying?"

"N-Nothing." She replied quickly.

"So I will be his concubine. And in time he will marry me, throwing his wife lower because he will love me. And a woman like her can't do anything to me! A mother with two children? haha! Would I be scared?!"

She suddenly left her chamber and saw in the corridor two white-haired boys walking towards the throne room with their uncle.

If not for the king, she would surely go to his right hand and best friend.

But she wanted to rule the kingdom as queen.

"Good morning, princes." She said smiling at the children.

They looked at her with their blue eyes and kept walking, holding the hands of their black-haired uncle who completely ignored her.

He really didn't like spoiled princesses like her.

She followed them a few meters to the throne room.

Where she saw her king she wanted to get.

And also you next to him when you stood with him at the window.

The children started running towards you and you smiled.

They were four years old and similar to Satoru. In appearance, and sometimes in character. However, there was one thing about them, except that they weren't quite like their father.

As your husband got down on one knee to catch his sons in his arms, they ran past, leaving his smile frozen.

He was hurt but still happy.

His kids just missed him...

Your sons ran to you, clinging to your legs.

Your sons are mommy's boys.

This was their characteristic.

So is your husband, who is also mommy's boy. But you're like his mommy.

Even though they love you both as parents.

Your husband turned to you with a small smile.

And your children suddenly attacked him, clinging to his chest.

"Your Majesty."

Someone interrupted his moment...

Who dared?!

He turned his head, looking at the woman in the dress behind him. Cursing slightly in front of him.

"what?" he asked, standing up but keeping his hands on his sons' heads.

He didn't care what she thought of him.

"Your Majesty... May I ask you in private? I'd like to talk to you about something." She said with a pleasant smile.

Even though there were dark intentions behind that smile.

"If you have an issue, speak now. I don't have time."

"My Father told me to talk to you about this in private. No unnecessary people." She looked at you condescendingly.

You hated people like that.

They say that damn princess doesn't know anything about you.

Satoru looked at you questioningly, waiting for you to help him. You nodded, signaling him to do so.

Besides, it can't last long.

But you get the feeling you know what she's talking about.

Judging from her dress and the lack of some items that she always wore and were necessary to look presentable.

You saw your husband disappear behind the wall, and you took care of your sons.

Oh, if what you think really happens, you're going to have to do something about Satoru.

Even if it wasn't his fault, he could get a little punishment.

Or a reward if he's a good boy.

"What do you want?" he asked sharply as he stood outside her chamber door as she closed the door.

"My king, you don't have to be so cold. We both know that I always want the best for you." She giggled.

"I'm in a hurry, so hurry up." He growled, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Oh yes. Of course, your majesty." She suddenly walked over to him and her hands shot up to his chest. Her body began to push against him until she reached up with one hand to untie the string at the back of her dress. "We two know what we need, don't we?"

His eyes looked at her with disgust.

"Need a second partner? A partner who will take care of your needs while she takes care of the children? I can become it, my king. I can be everything to you. Give you everything you ever dreamed of. I'll be better than your wife."

"Hold on." He growled, pushing her away.

She held her dress across her chest so she wouldn't stand naked in front of him.

Not yet.

She went a little too far.

Sure, she might have been trying to seduce him. Because that wouldn't work anyway.

Nice try, but he's married. He will not be so easily corruptible.

Bribes from a woman's body don't work on him.

Unless it was you.

Then if he had to choose between something and you, he chooses you.

And his mind, instead of thinking about having a woman capable of undressing for him now, was thinking about whether you'd be able to punish him if you found out.

Now if you could see this eager bitch wanting to get his cock as a bribe, you'd laugh.

This princess didn't know what you were capable of.

You were able to protect your family, especially children, from destruction.

That's why if you saw it, she'd be dead by now.

He didn't need someone important to die. That's why he wanted it to end quickly.

Because he can't promise that nothing will happen.

He did not want to wage war on their country for the fact that the princess died. Even though this war would be another win for him...

He had no desire. He preferred to take care of his beloved sons instead of playing wars.

"My king?" She groaned.

"Your tricks don't work on me." He said and walked past her. Completely ignoring the fact that she's standing there. "Give it a rest. I've seen many times where a woman wanted to seduce a rich man to win favor. This primitive method doesn't work for me."

Because he only became primitive around your body.

Only you could drive him to something that would make him lose himself in pleasure.

"If you want to live, don't do it again."

And suddenly he left her bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

"Remind you when my ribbon was tied around your dick? Do you miss it?"

"Do you have that ribbon?"

"you ruined it. I had to throw it away." You laughed, sitting on his stomach as he lay on his back on the bed.

"You want to punish me like a bad boy?" He gave you a playful smile.

"Our kids told me you were coming out of her bedroom." You gave him a winning smile.

You know nothing happened. Because your children would react differently.

"My little ones are smart~" he hummed.

"I know you remember exactly the day we fathered them." You put your finger on his lips to keep him from saying anything. "The way you moaned against me and your eyes begged for touch. Should I do the same now? To make sure you only beg for me?"

He purred as his hand rubbed your thigh.

"Do you want me to make you beg? Maybe then you can explain what happened there." You laughed.

There was excitement in him.

"I know you know exactly that she knows that she could never beat me. It doesn't matter what. In everything, I win with her, right."

"You're so much better than her." He groaned, wanting to grab your finger between his pink lips.

"I win with her even more when it comes to pleasing my husband. I wouldn't let some whore fuck my husband. You will not hurt me. And you will not hurt our children."

He smiled because he knew you weren't being completely serious.

Your voice was also playful.

"Only my wife can fully satisfy me." He hummed, encouraging you to expand on this conversation of yours.

You didn't just have to talk.

You could have shown him that you were his only woman.

His ideal.

Everything for him. Everything he has.

"The only woman I'll touch is you... Aah..." he moaned as you moved your hips in a fluid motion. So smooth. Bouncing on his cock in a pleasant rhythm.

His wrists bound as he placed the fingers of both hands on your thigh, feeling your walls tighten around him.

Only you could see him like this.

Make him a moaning mess when you kiss and touch him. And your intimate places are connected.

"Fuck... I love you so much..."

"I told you not to curse. If the kids can hear." You said with a small smile, wiping sweat from your forehead as you traced your finger across his jaw.

"There are no children here. So please, I want to say anything and do anything with my damn sexy wife..."

"Won't wrists be enough for you?" you laughed, circling his hips.

"I only touch my wife. And that's all I want. Let me fuck you..."

"You're impatient. You could always ask nicely. Come on honey. I know you can show that you only want me~"

"Please..." He groaned as he felt you tighten around him. Tight.

"Toru~ I don't know what you're asking for..."

"I want to fuck you." He said louder. His cheeks flushed pink.

"Then fuck me." You kissed his lips, feeling him smile into the kiss.

He moved his bound hands over your head, allowing you to put your arms between his hands. And then he held you as you lay on his stomach, kissing him passionately as your thrusts met.

His hands around your waist pressed you against him as his hips pushed up to seek more of your warmth, even as he entered you to the hilt, demolishing your insides.

His breath quivered, and so did yours as he dug in hard and held on, snuggling against your neck.

You stroked his hair.

Long teasing foreplay always made him come a little faster than usual. But it still allowed you to have a satisfying orgasm sooner.

His hips jumped as you leaned against him, pulling him in tight.

Your walls sucked him in, not wanting to let out a millimeter of his penis.

His mouth was open as you put your head next to his, and you whispered very softly into his ear with your warm breath.

"Cum." You said and felt his body tense as he let out a guttural groan, biting your arm to make a mark.

His warm fluids began to fill you.

And his moans filled your ears.

"Fuck, I love you so much..." He groaned.

Only you.

Always only you. No one else.

Only his beloved queen could be so close to him

[spaceyaceface]

I just discovered your blog from your fake dating story and I am in love with everything you have written! I would like to request one if you are open to writing it. Sebastian and f!mc’s relationship is at a standstill after a big fight. Rumors floating around the castle that they have broken up, a student who fancies MC takes his chance to flirt and ask MC on a date. MC hesitantly, like she’s unsure, claims she’s with Sebastian. He does not believe her, perhaps because MC does not believe it herself. Possessive!Sebastian appears.

AHHHH thank you so so much, you're wonderful anon! This was such a fun one to write---I really enjoy Possessive!Seb haha, I hope you enjoy it! Thanks so much for the request!

Sebastian Sallow x f!MC/Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: Possessive!Seb, Andrew Larson being rude, making out lol

She and Sebastian had fought before, but never like that. 

What made it worse is she knew it was all her fault. It had started out like many of their disagreements—she had been late coming back from the Forbidden Forest, and was a bit banged up. Sebastian, as always, had waited up for her. He’d made a habit of doing that, always telling her he’d be unable to sleep until she was safe. Most of the time, she would let him worry over her for a few minutes, heal whatever wounds the Wiggenweld had missed, and then kiss goodnight. But that night, everything had been too much. 

She had failed to save the puffskeins she’d been fighting to save. A quick cast of Depulso had caught her just at the worst moment, sending her flying back into a cliffside. As she crumpled to the ground, the poachers had grabbed their loot and aparated away. So when Sebastian fussed over her—and that time she didn’t even have anything worthwhile to show for it—she snapped. 

How she wished she could take back the words she’d said to him. What she wouldn’t give for a time turner to slap some sense into her past self. She accused him of being too controlling, of telling her what she could and couldn’t do (that was completely false—he’d always let her go where and when she wanted, as long as he let her know). Then he fired back that perhaps he’d allowed her too much freedom, had she been hit so hard she’d lost her bloody mind? It only escalated from there. It ended with her storming out of the room, without even a hint of remorse. 

Oh, how she felt it now.

It hit her as she curled up in bed, staring up at the ceiling as her anger cooled. The tears flooded her alongside the regret. She had said some horrible things. What if he couldn’t forgive her? 

She didn’t sleep that night. Or the night after that. Or any for the several days that followed. 

Because when she had gone to apologize that morning, she… couldn’t. It wasn’t that she was stubborn or wanted him to say sorry first—it was fear that he wouldn’t accept her apology, that she had permanently ruined things between them. Maybe that fight would finally make him realize how much better he could do than her. 

So she didn’t approach him. And he didn’t approach her. For an agonizing week they went on in silence. She could swear she felt his eyes on the back of her head, but when she turned, he would be talking to someone else. For as much as she stared, longing to see that lop-sided smirk she knew so well, he didn’t turn her way. It was awful.

And now there were rumors—rumors that she didn’t know what to do with. People began to whisper that they’d broken up, that the Hero of Hogwarts was back on the market. It made her sick to her stomach. She didn’t want to be with anyone but Sebastian, and the thought of them not being together—well, it tore her apart. 

What made it even worse was Andrew Larson trying to take his chance with her. 

Throughout the week, he began to make sly remarks in class about how wonderfully she had performed the spells. He walked with her, even offering to carry her books, which she nearly scoffed at. Every time he said something like that, she couldn’t help but glance at Sebastian, seeing if it would garner any reaction from him. He never said anything or stepped in, but she could see the way his jaw tensed—it gave her a bit of hope that perhaps there was still something there for them. 

It all came to a head nine days after her and Sebastian had fought. She was in the courtyard, studying—normally she would have gone to the library, but Sebastian was usually there that time in the evening. She read through the pages of her textbook, trying her best to get lost in the pages. Evidently, it worked; she hadn’t heard Andrew Larson’s footsteps as he had approached her. 

The clearing of his throat startled her from her reading, and she looked up at him. There was a smile on his face–-one that filled her with much more dread than it should have. 

“Can I help you?” she asked.

“In a way, I suppose,” he said. 

She frowned. “Well then, what is it?” 

“I was wondering if you would join me on a trip to Hogsmeade tomorrow.” 

Her heart dropped. She hadn’t once played into his attempts at flirting—never showed any sign she felt that way towards him, yet he still had the gall to ask her out? 

She stood, starting to gather her things to get out of there as quickly as possible. “No, thank you, Andrew.” 

“And why not?”

“You know full well I—” her throat felt suddenly dry. Her voice came out weaker as she continued. “I’m… with Sebastian.”

Andrew let out a laugh, one that made her stomach churn. “Oh, please. You two haven’t even looked at each other in a week. It couldn’t be more clear you’ve gone your separate ways. I promise I’m an excellent candidate to get you back into dating.”

“We haven’t broken up,” she said. But it sounded like she was trying to reassure herself more than anything. “We just…” Just what, she thought. 

Andrew seemed to read her thoughts and made a strange attempt at a reassuring smile. “It’s alright. I promise I can help that little broken heart of yours.”

“You won’t be doing anything of the sort, Larson.” 

She whirled around toward the familiar voice. Her heart fluttered at the expression on his face. He wore a deep scowl, lip curled slightly from disgust. His eyes were dark and menacing. 

It was pretty hot.

His wand was clenched in his hand, and she couldn’t really find it in herself to tell him to calm down. 

Andrew didn’t seem nearly as phased as he should have been. She had seen looks like that cross Sebastian’s face before, and it never ended well for the person on the receiving end of his fury. Instead of running like a sensible man might do, Andrew stood his ground, arms crossed. “Oh really? And why is that, Sallow?”

“Because she’s mine.”

The way he practically growled the word sent shivers down her spine.

Andrew narrowed his eyes. “She didn’t seem too sure about that just a moment ago. Maybe she needs the chance to see what she’s missing out on.” 

And suddenly Sebastian’s dark and angry eyes were on her, and he was stepping closer, and some instinct in the back of her head warned her to run, but of course she won’t, not from Sebastian, never from Sebastian—and then his lips crashed into hers, his hands on either side of her face, and she felt like she would combust on the spot—

He’s kissed her before, too many times to count. There kisses stolen between classes, when he insisted he just could resist her lovely smile, kisses in private, where he let his lips linger and part until they were overtaken with laughs and smiles . Kisses that were passionate, hungry, leaving her aching with a strange need. None of them held a flame to this.

Her arms lift to wrap around the back of his neck, pulling herself closer to the heat of his mouth. One of his hands left her face to pull her hips to his, and he took advantage of the gasp that parted her lips, letting himself taste her even more deeply. 

It was ghastly. Indecent. Provocative. Heavenly.

She was barely aware of all the students that cleared themselves out of the courtyard (though not after a good moment of gawking at the sight). Andrew Larson stomped away among them. Finally, the pair broke apart, gasping desperately for the shared air between them. It was a good few minutes before either of them had the mind to talk. 

“I’m sorry,” Sebastian said. His voice was husky in a way that made her want to reclaim his lips, but she knew she could wait until they got some things settled. 

“You better not be referring to that kiss,” she breathed out. “Because that was… it was…”

He chuckled, placing a soft kiss on the tip of her nose, a stark contrast to their ministrations mere moments ago. “Oh believe me, I’m not sorry for that one bit. It seemed to get the message to Larson pretty well, too.” 

She blushed, the realization that they had more than just a handful of witnesses to that scene hitting her. But she shook the thought. “Then you better not be saying sorry for our stupid fight, either.”

Sebastian’s brows furrowed. “Am I not supposed to apologize for fighting?” 

“Not when you did nothing wrong,” she sighed, burying her head in the crook of his neck. “It was all my fault. I was frustrated and I took it out on you. I’m sorry.” 

“I still could have come to talk to you this whole time,” he said. “But I didn’t. Thought maybe you’d be better off without me.”

She nearly laughed at that. “That’s silly. I was thinking you were better off without me.” 

“Then maybe we can agree that both of those thoughts are ridiculous.” 

She pulled her face up to look at him. “I love you, Sebastian. And I promise if we ever fight again, I’m not going to be an idiot.”

“I’m not sure I can promise the same.”

She laughed, and he grinned at the sound. One week had been much too long without it. 

He bit his lip a bit. “I um… I’m sorry I sort of… lost control over Larson.” His gaze trailed away from hers. 

She blushed. “Don’t be. It was hot.”

His eyes widened as they met hers once again. “Hot?”

She gave a small nod. “Yes. What was it you said? I’m yours?”

His grip on her tightened as he grinned down at her. “And don’t you forget it.”

“I think I could use another reminder, if you don’t mind.”

He didn’t mind at all.

[jeonwonoow]

Chapter 1. The Invitation

warnings: none

taglist: @miraes-world

—

A soft sigh left your mouth before you lightly bit your lower lip as you stared at the white card with powder blue accents and at the center, a photo of a little boy sitting in between his big teddy bear’s legs. The corners of your lips curl up into the softest smile possible as you caressed the said photo. “You look so much like Soonyoung, really,” you whisper as if the little boy could hear you.

You didn’t bother to open the card and put it down on your coffee table then grab your phone in exchange.

Soonyoung:

Hope you got the invitation in your mail. Hayoon wanted to bring it personally to you but we were busy in preparations for Hyungjunnie’s christening. See you there, Y/N!

You:

I did, Hosh! I’ll make sure to come. I can’t believe it’s been a year since junnie came.

Soonyoung:

Yeah! So when is our best friend gonna grant our wish and give our junnie a playmate? :(

You:

Tell junnie I'm sorry haha. It'll take a while.

Soonyoung:

We're at that age. You've buried yourself under all the work since...you know...:( why not give love a shot again?

With a shake of your head, you put your phone inside the pocket of your jacket and got up from the couch, not sending any reply to Soonyoung's last text message. Sunday won't be a free day then since you need to go out and get some nice clothes for their son's christening.

While driving to the mall, the deafening silence made you think about the last text message of your friend again. He's right and it's somewhat sad. You like to think that you have completely gotten over the past, just because you don't cry over it anymore. You just didn't want to admit to yourself that your heart still has that wound that wouldn't heal, no matter how much time had already passed, no matter who tried to help you; that it still clenches whenever he passes through your thoughts. You tried. You tried hard. You gave it a try, you gave men chances, but nothing works anymore so you just focused on work, work, and work.

"It's been 3 years," you whispered as you watched the countdown of numbers beside the stoplight. "If we never broke up, would we have had our first born already too?" You slightly chuckle and grab your coffee you got from a drive thru earlier, taking a sip just to wake you up a little bit and stop your silly brain.

—

The week passed by so fast you hadn't noticed it's already saturday, Hyungjun's christening. Soonyoung had to call you and check up on you, making sure again that you're coming. He checked up multiple times during the weekdays too that you almost feel like you're the one going to be baptized. "Jesus christ, Hosh."

"Okay, okay, sorry. Just asking if you're coming...again. You know, junnie misses you very much." Actually, he's just very worried you wouldn't come after seeing the invitation you didn't even open, which is by the way, missing. You ended the call while rummaging through all the papers on your table, unable to find the invitation. You probably brought it to your office and left it there but whatever, you could come in your pyjamas and Soonyoung and Hayoon would still take you in as they seem so excited for your presence.

As soon as you got your dress on, you slipped on a white pair of high heels and gave yourself one last look on your mirror before hurrying to the parking lot of your flat. You can't understand how you're feeling at the moment, and why it's all mixed up. You drove anyway to the location with your thoughts pushed in the back of your head.

The first thing you see after getting out of your car is Soonyoung walking towards you, followed by Hayoon who's holding Hyungjun's hand as the little boy stumbles, still learning how to walk.

"I'm so glad you came!" Soonyoung spread his arms and you dive into his hug. "We've all been so busy the past months."

"Right. I'm still so glad Soonyoung turned out to be a really responsible dad and husband though," Hayoon pops into the conversation. "Imagine if I had to be a mom and also had to work altogether. At least I get to be with junnie while he grows."

"I know," you chuckle. No, what do you know about being a mom, it's just an expression. "Will you come back to your work when Hyungjun grows a little more?"

"We're planning to just build a business, actually," Hayoon says as you all walk into the church, Hyungjun now carried by you.

The sound of a car making a drift onto a parking space made you turn your head just quickly before turning to your friends again. You couldn't pinpoint what that feeling is again but your breath surely hitched.

A few minutes later, the ceremony starts and you get into the solemn feel of the moment not until the priest ordered the godparents to come in front. As you find your spot, you see him in your peripheral vision. Just to make sure you weren't going insane, you slowly turned your head to your right to fully see the man in white button up and black slacks with his hair pushed back. It's almost as if you have become deaf that moment. The world just stopped and you weren't sure if you're still breathing.

He looked at you and your eyes locked for a few seconds before you broke it as soon as the corners of his lips curled into that smile. That stupid smile that never failed to make all the blood in your body go up to your face. You wanted to leave. You wanted to disappear. But for Hyungjun, for Soonyoung and Hayoon, you needed to stay, and so you did.

Soonyoung and Hayoon noticed how tense you were when everyone was sent back to their seats. They looked at you with worried eyes, and then looked at him.

"What's this?" You mouthed as soon as Soonyoung returned his eyes on you. He raised his palm a bit, enough to signal you that you'll talk about it later.

After the ceremony, you hurried to your car faster than lightning, but not faster than Soonyoung who left his wife and son inside to entertain everyone and the priest. "Hey-"

"I wasn't informed, Kwon Soonyoung."

"I was wondering too," he nods. "Your names were written beside each other in the invitation. You know now why I kept checking if you'd come. I was wondering why you weren't going mad, honestly." Ah, yes, the invitation you lost that you hadn't even got to open. Your shoulders sulked as you leaned back against your car door.

—

"Hayoon," the woman turned when she heard a man call her name after everyone started to leave. "She's still here? I didn't think she'd come."

"Hey," Hayoon greeted back, holding Hyungjun in her arms tightly. "Soonyoung and I were worried about that too. Looks like she didn't see your name listed there, Wonwoo."

Wonwoo chuckled, remembering that habit of yours to not read details thoroughly. You even accidentally drank expired milk because of that back when you were in highschool.

"Soonyoung probably followed her." Hyungjun stretches his arms to Wonwoo and the man gladly takes him as they walk to the parking lot, his heart instantly warming up.

—

The moment you see Hayoon approaching with the man carrying the little boy behind her, you grab the handle to your car door but Soonyoung stops you from opening it. "Kwon Soony-"

"Y/N," his voice went into your ears and straight to the void in your heart. Jeon Wonwoo. "It's been so long." Your eyes went from Soonyoung to Wonwoo to Hayoon to Soonyoung to Wonwoo.

"What do you guys want from me?" Almost like a kid throwing tantrums, you whined making them chuckle. You're still that whiny girl they remember even after changing your persona into this tough, independent, workaholic single lady after breaking up with Wonwoo.

A moment of silence fell between the five of you until Hyungjun started throwing an actual tantrum, probably wanting to go home already just like you. "Come here," Soonyoung takes him from Wonwoo and bids goodbye to you. Hayoon does the same, leaving you and Wonwoo like they didn't just set you up into this. And so you were left in yet the most awkward position you've ever been in your life, standing face to face with your ex.

"Hey," you both say, your voice almost coming out as a soft whisper. Wonwoo slips his hands into his pockets and presses his lips against each other into a thin line. "I didn't think you'd come," you both say again, getting surprised at how your minds still sync.

"I actually didn't see the invitation."

"I was thinking if you read my name, you'd cancel."

"'course I would." You roll your eyes and turn to open your door, finally, but you're stopped again by Wonwoo's hand on your arm this time. "Can you not fucking touch me?"

"Can you not curse on me?" His stern voice made you turn your head. "I want a peaceful talk and you're making it hard. Are you still mad after all those years? Can you hear me out? Or, can we at least be civil this time?"

Yes, you're still mad after all those years. And no, you don't wanna hear him out and have everything come crushing your heart again. Also no, you can't stay civil with him because you'd go insane with him being so close yet so far. "I hate you. So much. Jeon Wonwoo."

[caspersickfanfics]

Sharing a Receptacle

For @monthofsick day 1

Prompt List | AO3 | Ask | Rules

Warnings: Vomiting (graphic), fever

Anon asked:

I see you've got a lot of Cyno and Tighnari lined up already, so I sincerely apologise for adding to that, haha! If this is something you'd like to write, I'd love to see the prompt "sharing a receptacle" for Cyno and Tighnari! Maybe it starts off with one of them being sick and the other coming to care for them, only soon enough they also catch whatever has been making the other sick. (I love fics with multiple sick characters at once!)

Tighnari wakes to his stomach cramping for what feels like the hundredth time in a handful of days. He’s coughing before his eyes are even open but fortunately, he’s taken to sleeping with his arms latched onto a trashcan. He curls around it, hacking. He needs to sit. With the storm that has taken residence in his abdomen refusing to ease, it’s impossible to tell when his stomach contents will make a reappearance. Tighnari feels hands on his back guiding him upright and his body relaxes minutely. He knows who that is.

“Nari,” Cyno says simply, unnecessarily but sweetly confirming his identity. If Tighnari were any bit more aware of his surroundings, he might notice a weight to his partner’s voice that isn’t normally there, pulling it into a slow drawl. But he doesn’t, because his coughs have turned into retches. His stomach clenches and his back arches, entirely out of his control. 

He mentally chastises himself for trying to fight what’s about to happen. Tighnari has seen this process enough times to know that it’s easier to simply accept it - he’s lived through it countless times within the past week. And yet, when bile inevitably rises in his throat, his breath still stutters with a series of shallow, panicked gasps. One last instinctive act of resistance before sick spills over his lips, splattering to the bottom of the trashcan.

It used to be lined with a plastic bag, and Tighnari realizes with dismay that this is no longer true. Cyno must have forgotten to put a new one in after the previous bout of puking. Now, Tighnari stares vacantly downwards, trying not to think about how much scrubbing it will take to clean this. He feels more ill all the same, and the sight of vomit congealing against the plastic… He pitches forward again and blearily watches as the contained mess rapidly grows.

“Guh,” Tighnari shudders, his head hanging low in the trashcan. His body is wracked with queasy shivers and chills. Tears of exertion drip from his lashes. He realizes that Cyno, who is normally quiet, has gone completely silent, and wonders if he’s walked away. Tighnari is hit with a pang of hurt, and then confusion, because that doesn’t seem likely, but his foggy mind can’t seem to come up with a different explanation.

For better or worse, he can’t ponder it further. His stomach spasms and Tighnari finds himself spewing another stream of vomit into the trashcan.

Finally, the nausea alleviates moderately. Though the thought of food still makes him woozy, he believes he can move without hurling. Tighnari’s head feels heavy, but he lifts it anyway. His whole body relaxes upon finding that Cyno is still sitting on the bed beside him. Relief, for a moment, and then he freezes.

Cyno looks almost worse than Tighnari feels. He’s wearing a miserable expression, and his hands repeatedly grip his thighs - squeeze and release, squeeze and release - needing something solid to cling to. There’s no point in asking if he’s alright. 

“Oh, Cyno,” Tighnari murmurs. He’s exhausted, but attentive ears still catch a hitching breath. Several gurgling burps follow, rolling steadily out of the other man, and white hair drapes forward to curtain his face as Cyno curls in on himself. Tighnari’s hand finds the matra’s shoulder, drawing him close with a sigh. “Come here.”

Cyno settles against Tighnari’s side heavily, as if unable to hold himself up.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, voice slurring under the weight of nausea. His back ripples with consecutive aborted heaves and Tighnari winces and shakes his head.

“None of that. Just let it happen.”

Cyno is panting now, mouth gasping for air beneath a shaking hand. Tighnari gently pushes it out of the way. Cyno’s eyes flicker to him briefly and then squeeze shut. A pained moan escapes him. A shudder runs through the matra and it sparks something tender and protective under Tighnari's skin. He runs fingers through sweaty hair.

“Relax,” Tighnari instructs, voice firm despite his own growing queasiness. Cyno’s body immediately softens, easing towards the offered and already used trash bin. The next time his back arches, a stream of pale yellow puke spills over his lips. Tighnari catches just a glimpse, but it’s enough to bring his own nausea back in full force. He tries to ignore it. Cyno is still being ill and Tighnari wants to be there for him. While Cyno chokes on a waterfall of thick, chunky vomit, Tighnari ignores the way his skin sparks with hot and cold flashes. Shaky hands rub circles into Cyno’s heaving back and, not for the first time, Tighnari curses his sensitive ears.

They have been helpful to him in many ways throughout the years; lifesaving, even. He wouldn’t trade them, but there are moments when Tighnari wishes he could put his heightened sense of hearing on pause. He doesn’t need to hear with crystal clarity the muffled splatter of liquid against plastic. And then, louder, a wet belch and splashing noises. He tries to take a calming breath, but it only fills his nostrils with a sour, rotting scent of sickness.

“Cyno - urp - are you almost done?” Tighnari’s strength has all but left him. The only response he receives is a whimper. Then Cyno is heaving again, soupy orange stomach contents spraying from his lips.

Tighnari is not normally squeamish. Still, even he has a breaking point on a sick day.

A gut-wrenching belch rumbles through him. Tighnari tries not to jostle the man next to him, but he has little control over his body as he lurches forward to once again be violently sick. Thanks to careful positioning, most of it makes it into the bin. Having to share such a small space has taken its toll, though, because some of the sticky substance splatters onto Cyno’s hands around the trash bin. Tighnari can't even manage an apology. His head pounds and he is wracked with dry heaves, unable to contain his nausea even now that he’s empty while Cyno continues to cough up streams of bile. When at last Cyno is able to get his stomach under control, Tighnari finally pulls back, bringing his arm up to his face to cover his nose from the vile scent filling the room.

“Are you okay?” He asks, voice all but torn to shreds. Cyno looks like a wet dog, hair drenched in sweat, eyes round and watery. He nods, but speaks waveringly.

“I– I think I should move to the bathroom.” His arms are trembling around the now nearly-full and quite heavy trash bin. Tighnari eyes it with distaste and resolves to worry about it later with a firm nod. 

He is painfully aware that he’s been sick for three days now with no real sign of improvement. If, as the case seems to be, Cyno has caught his illness, they should indeed go ahead and make themselves as comfortable as possible on the cold stone floors of the cramped hotel bathroom (regardless of how absolutely repulsive the thought of moving is at the moment).

–––

Send asks here!

[cherrylng]

Matt Bellamy interview - Muse [ROCKIN'ON (December 2000)]

"If you ask me, our first album was a youthful rock experience at its ultimate limit….. Thanks to that, we've now reached a point where we don't even want to know what happens if we keep going."

So where are these horrid kids headed now that they've buried the ‘first Muse’, who froze the whole of the UK with their unbelievable live performances and insane falsetto? Matthew Bellamy, 22, talks about his next ambition!

Interview: Erica Yamashita / Photography: NAKA

Muse's performance at Akasaka Blitz on October 14th was a speedy one hour and 12 minutes long performance with 18 songs. There was no encore. At the end, Matthew rolled around at the feet of drummer Dominic and started messing around, waving his hands and disappearing to the side of the stage, and then bassist Chris went around destroying the drum kit one by one, so there was no time for an encore. But that was also a happy ending, with Matthew whispering something to the two of them just before. Matt was waving his guitar around a lot, but it was only the first day of the Tokyo show, so I guess he was thinking that he couldn't smash it here. Instead, he ran around the stage.

The show on this day was also very loud from the beginning. To be honest, it was a bit rough. Of course, as usual, their performance was impressive, but they seemed a little slack and were trying to intimidate others with their strength. The two ballads in the middle of the show, sung by Matt, sitting beside Chris with an acoustic guitar, completely changed the wavelength. Interestingly, what followed was a stage full of shadows and storytelling, even though it was a fast and loud world again. There was a relentless pull that is the essence of a Muse show. An unidentifiable energy emanates from Matthew, who is tiny even in Japan. A mass of emotion that you find yourself unable to take your eyes off.

Some have expressed concern about the future evolution of Muse, saying that they are too technically accomplished for their young age, that they are doing stage actions that are like rock conventions, and that they are becoming musically stylised. However, 22-year-old Matt Bellamy is wavering. This was his third visit to Japan in seven months, which inadvertently confirmed his wavering and self-examination. He has all the talent, technique, and brains. He has both desire and confidence. I would like him to soar into the second chapter of Muse, which is as bold as he can.

"With "Showbiz", I wanted to destroy purity and innocence. But on the next album we're going in the opposite direction."

Last night's gig was really intense (laughs). 「Yeah. I admit it. Sometimes we have gigs like that where we just blow it from start to finish. It depends on the mood of the moment.」

What was your mood like yesterday? 「Well, I was a bit confused and restless.」

Oh, why? 「Haha…… I had a lot of interviews and stuff during the day, so by the time I got on stage, a lot of things had built up inside me. Also, I changed the set of songs since yesterday.」

I see. You played four new songs, didn't you? 「I think three, to be precise. The opener was a new one and an old one that we did as a test for this tour.」

That was a very hard opener. Are the songs for the new album almost complete? 「Yeah, almost. The songs themselves are done, we just need to decide what form we want to take with each one. When we go into the studio, we listen back to everything we've played live and change the details and decide on the arrangements and instruments. I think a couple of the songs will be harder than any of the songs on "Showbiz", but overall I think there's a wider range. From the hard stuff to the softer, more subdued songs. There are at least two very mellow, emotional, and quiet songs. There are also about three songs that are not disco or dance music, but are more like early 80s electro-pop, with a lot of synths.」

One of these songs, "Plug in Baby", already has a title and was played yesterday. It sounded hard live, but it's quite a melody-driven number, isn't it? 「Yes, yes. We've already recorded that one. That one, and the one that doesn't have a title but starts with the keyboard that I played yesterday, we've finished recording those two songs. "Plug in Baby" is quite hard on bass and drums, but I think it's very melodic in its recorded form, including the vocals.」

By the way, what's a Plug In Baby? 「Hehehe…… (chuckles to himself). It can mean a few things, but, er, it might be a little strange…… There are various systems, like governments and big companies, and the idea is that the handful of people at the top of those triangles are all connected and have huge control. There are many smaller triangles in the world, and I am at the top of a very small triangle called Muse. And I'm learning what control is. What kind of influence can I have on the band members, on the crew, on the recording site, etc.? How my ideas flow through all these different people. And eventually, when the record comes out and people start talking about it. Some people take the time to raise their children and spread their influence. At the moment I don't want to have kids at all, but instead I can come up with ideas and concepts about the situation and observe how they flow through people and how things change.」

Does that come from the recognition that controlling what and how is a big issue in being in a band? 「Originally someone was trying to exert control over me, telling me to do this or say that. I've learnt little by little how to stand up to that and make the situation happen the way I want it to happen. That's one theme. But there's also a slightly weirder theme in the song "Plug In Baby", which is the theory that the people who run the big governments and royal families and stuff are not actually living things on Earth (laughs). It's not so much that they are actually people, but that forces we don't know about are controlling their thoughts. People at the top are always targeted and manipulated by these mysterious forces. I don't know if it's true or not, and I know it sounds stupid, but it happens sometimes. It's like you're being controlled by an uncontrollable force, or a creature, or something.」

Hmm (laughs). In our last interview, you mentioned that you sang a song in which you put yourself in the position of a young mother. Have you finished that? 「Yes, but it hasn't been recorded yet. It's just guitar and vocals at the moment, and I'm thinking about how to incorporate the band into it. I think I'll use a very quiet, acoustic guitar, and maybe a harp…… or some kind of tuned percussion. I'd like to make a sound that somehow conveys a sense of childhood happiness. But I haven't really settled on a concrete idea yet.」

Do you have any other thematic trends for the new songs? 「There are two or three songs, and the lyrics are about someone who I really love and want to love because of their personality, but at the same time I feel envious and jealous because the ideals they have are so pure…… I've got a song that goes something like this. I think the songs on the next album are very meaningful to me when I sing them now. But I also felt that way about the songs on the first album when I wrote them. So, well, I think it's normal for my feelings about songs to change over time.」

Is that feeling of envy for the ideal of perfection in others something that's been on your mind recently? 「Hehe…… For example, I think there are people who listen to Muse's music and get a sense of pleasure, but there are also people who find it painful and unbearable to listen to. So…… Hmmm (laughs)…… I think that's true. For example, if you didn't know what human sex is, you might think it's very painful to hear the voices and noises, right? But it's not like that, it's just a pure expression of humanity. But I think for some people it's too graphic or unacceptable or something like that…… Um…… Well, that's a matter of course (laughs). Well, what I was trying to say about ideals is that sometimes you meet people who aren't broken at all, right? They believe in certain things even when they grow up. It can be something very simple, like family ties. My parents divorced when I was 13 and I think that's the way it is, but some people don't know what it's like because they haven't been through it themselves. You're talking to someone and their reaction is that they don't know about it and they don't want to know about it. They don't want to hear about it. Well, that can't be helped. I think that if you don't have to see everything through in reality, that would be the best thing. Sometimes it's better to be able to believe in something like a dream.」

When you come into contact with something so pure and innocent, do you admire it and want to be like it? Or can't help wanting to destroy it? 「Oh yes…… I admire them and want to be one too. Probably. I think on the first album I was more of a person who wanted to destroy it (laughs). But on the next album, I'm going in the opposite direction.」

I always feel that way. I feel that you have a duality or two extremes in you, and that you just can't seem to separate the two. 「Yeah. Yeah, that's true. There's a part of me that always sees both sides of things.」

On the one hand, you want to believe in something really pure and good, but on the other hand, your experiences have made you feel that you can't? 「Another example of this ideal is religion. Something unscientific. I really think how nice it would be if, when you die, you could believe that you're going towards something. I wish there was something like that. Maybe there is, I don't know. But I can't believe in anything that isn't true, no matter how I try…… hehe…… But I wish I could. And maybe I can make myself believe that.」

It feels like that frustration and irritation is transforming into the extraordinary heightening of Muse's music. 「(laughs)…… It's like that for everything. It's also about life itself. Like love. I just can't believe that you love someone and you think it's going to last forever. For anyone.」

"Right now I'm choosing to do caricatures of rock. I think I'm still trying to figure out whether that's a creative situation or not."

I was struck by the fact that you said that your ideal gig experience would be one where you could experience imaginary death on stage, the ultimate ecstasy… 「I mean, I'd like to do more of a theatrical performance. But I still don't know how to incorporate that element and put on a good show. One possible way would be to go out on stage and change costumes and scenes to suit the mood of the songs, so that each song is a theatrical experience. Then each song would be closer to an extreme experience, and there would even be an experience of death in it (laughs). I'd like to do some theatrical performances, not just rock geek stuff.」

Even today, is there a certain amount of drama and theatricality in Muse's performances? 「Yes, that's what I'm trying to bring out. Sometimes it works, sometimes it's a mess. Because sometimes you get into one character and you try to change into a different one, but it doesn't work. That's why I take a lot of time to decide on the setlist. Sometimes it determines the success or failure of the stage. Sometimes, depending on how the songs are arranged, I can't change the mood right away.」

How was last night, by the way? 「Hahaha…… Hmmm. Well, I think the middle part went well, very well. But the beginning and the end, I don't know, maybe it was a bit muddled. The middle part was focused and went as intended, and I think I was able to express what I was feeling about the song really well. Especially "Falling Down" and "Unintended".」

Ah, that ballad spot. Actually, something changed there, or rather, it became easier to understand what you were trying to do. After that, when you went into the storm again, it felt like you could see the flow. 「Oh, really? For us, it was totally the same. Especially with "Unintended", there was a feeling that you don't get very often. Most shows we're like, we slowly build up and get intense, then drop off and get intense again, but last night it started out intense, dropped in the middle, and then built up again at the end. So from the beginning I was in a whirlpool where I didn't know what was going on, and when it finally got quiet in the middle, I was able to calm down and grasp the situation, and I was able to return to that state.」

I see. You play with such tremendous energy that sometimes you get sucked into it and can't quite get yourself out of it. 「Hehehe…… Yeah.」

Are you at all worried that what you're doing might be perceived as a caricature of rock? 「……No, I don't think so.」

And what do you think spares you guys from being seen as caricatures? 「That's…… The fact that I know and have allowed myself to look that way, you know. It's something I've wanted to do. Yes, I think I've deliberately gone that way at some gigs and stuff. But I also know that I can always do something completely different. Other than just playing rock music. I can go in any direction at any time. But right now I'm choosing to do something like a caricature of rock. Because I want to try it. I want to know if it's really a creative situation. I think I'm still trying to figure out if it's a good thing or not.」

Destroying instruments, running around the stage, that sort of thing? 「That was probably the last time I did that, last night.」

Hmm. I've heard that before. 「What, did I say that?」

Not exactly, but something similar. 「Pfft. I see. I might have said that (laughs).」

I'm not criticising you, because even though there are some elements of that cliched tactic, Muse's stage is… 「(interrupting) No, but I agree with you. If I was in the audience, I would feel the same way. But everything I do, I do it because I want to. And I don't really think about whether other people will see it and think it's stupid or not. I do it for my own learning, and I'm still in the learning process. I don't think you can really decide if you want to be that person until you've experienced certain things. Sometimes what you see in people's eyes may not be my true nature, sometimes it's just something I'm doing on a trial basis. Sometimes, when I want to do something like this, I apply the idea to my surroundings and experience the situation. And it's something that, as I said before, you can stop at any time and move on to a different situation.」

Do you really want to stop performing like that, even if it wasn't just last night? 「But right now, I'm riding the acceleration of the first album, so it's hard to stop. We've done a tremendous amount of touring up to this point, and no matter how you do it, you have to become a caricature of rock ‘n’ roll. Life on tour has an effect on both the mind and the body. It's difficult until you cut it off somewhere. I'm trying to do that in November, when this tour is over.」

While you've written a whole new set of songs, you've also been re-experiencing the B-sides of your first and previous singles almost every night on stage. How do you feel about those songs that were released over a year ago? 「I still think they're good. But they've developed into something very different from the album version. It's changed so much over the course of the tour that it's become very extreme. But actually, most of the songs can be played just acoustically. Not for the next album, but at some point in the future, I'd like to release an album based on acoustics without using any electronics at all. Really, my main goal is to try different approaches. Our first album is about youthful rock taken to its limits…」

(laughs). 「There's always the temptation to want to know what life is like at least once. And then to experience it yourself, to experience touring this hard, including all the stereotypical aspects of band life. I've done that too, and thanks to that I've reached a point now where I don't want to know what's going to happen if I keep going like this…… ahaha……」

"As musicians of the same generation as our audience, we are shining a light on the extreme emotions of living in these times. I think that means how to accept yourself as you are."

(laughs). If you're done with the extreme rock of your youth, can you give us a preview of the tone of your next album? 「Everyone keeps asking about the new album—」

Everyone wants to know. 「Yeah, I know. No, I mean it's hard to predict the future, because if you try to force it, you get accused of being different in the end.」

What would you like it to be, in your opinion? 「Hmmm…… Music always reflects how I'm feeling at the time when I'm making it. So I'm sure it will be an honest reflection of how I've been feeling over the past year or two. What I care about more than anything else is honesty. I want it to be as honest as possible about what I'm feeling and what I want to say. I can't really say what that's going to be like until the moment the album is finished.」

You said that since you started writing again, you've lost all sense of who you thought you knew completely before, the path you were on, etc. Does that feeling still persist? 「I've recorded two songs and I've calmed down a lot (laughs). I'm still writing songs, but two or three months ago I was working so hard on them that I didn't know what was going to happen. But once we started recording and rehearsing and playing a few shows, I knew where I was going. I was able to explain "Plug in Baby" a little bit, like I did before. But I didn't really know what the hell I was talking about until I recorded it. I also want to do the artwork for the next album myself, and I've got some ideas for that now. So I'm thinking that after this tour, which goes from Japan to Australia to Scandinavia to Dublin, I'm going to go to the countryside for a couple of weeks in November, where I won't see anyone, to chill out a bit and really think about what I want to do and how I want to do it.」

When you say you don't know where you're going when you're writing, does that mean you don't know where you're going in life itself? 「Yes, it can be like that. You know, when you're writing a song, you just let your feelings out, it's a totally subjective state. I don't try to be objective about myself at all. But in general I try to be objective, most of the time. I keep my distance and think about what I'm doing. The only time I don't do that is when I'm writing songs. That's the only time I go inwards and get closer to myself.」

In a way, it's time to allow yourself to do that. 「Yes, yes, that's right. And in the process, you can't explain your own behaviour. In interviews, you probably try to interpret them as someone else's work, to understand the meaning and background, just like you do.」

Hmmm. Does the act of looking at your own work and creative activities objectively in this way help you? 「Yes, I think so. Trying to be objective…… I mean, I don't think it's good for the mind to be in a position like mine and be subjective all the time. This job can turn even good people into bad people.」

From that point of view, I sense a mysterious duality within you, or rather a sense of balance. 「(laughs) Well, I try to be as careful as possible to be like that.」

You look like you're on the verge of jumping off a cliff, but at the same time you seem to have learnt from history and have the good sense not to do anything really reckless. 「……There were some bad moments. I think. I did some things that I'd like to pretend later that they didn't happen. I mean, mistakes, you know. But basically, that wasn't my intention. Because, after all…… I don't want to die, haha…….」

You mentioned last time that you would ideally like to change the producer of the new album with each song, but how is it progressing in reality? 「Yes, that's reality, hahaha. I've finished two songs with Dave Botterill, who worked with Tool and Deus, and we've got two more to record. That's as far as I've got with him. Then we're going into sessions with John Leckie as well. For the first album, Paul Reeve recorded a lot of the demos and Leckie re-recorded them, but this time we're going to do a session with Leckie alone and record five or six songs. If that goes well, we'll probably continue and do the whole rest of the album with him. But Paul Reeve is not much older than us, and he's very innovative in his ideas and approach. Last time, I asked Leckie to join because he was still inexperienced, but I'd like to record a whole album with Paul someday. Maybe I could be a co-producer then.」

You're already used to playing to every size crowd imaginable, from clubs to festivals, but do you have any set goals for future success, such as how big a venue you want to play at? 「Well, for the next album we'd like to take it to a bit bigger level than what we're doing now. At least in Europe/USA we want to aim for 3-4,000 people. Then we'll do a show based on some kind of concept and see how it goes. But after that, I'd like to keep the audience size small again. I'd also like to be a bit more selective with our festival appearances.」

I heard that you played at 48 festivals this summer alone? 「I heard so (laughs). That's what I've been trying to figure out about the future, whether it's going to work out that way or not.

When I saw you guys on stage in Reading and at the gig yesterday, I thought that there is an overwhelmingly Muse generation audience. It's different from both the Radiohead generation and the Oasis generation. So what do you think your music speaks to and gives to these people? 「Yeah…… I think…… I think that artists of that generation, be they musicians, film directors or whatever, are reflecting back to them what they see around them. It's a reflection of the times. That's why I also…… (laughs) I'm shining a light on the ultimate emotions of living in this era. In other words, I think it's about how we accept ourselves as we are.」

Translator's Note: I actually like what I've scanned so far with this issue. I mean, Matt's blue eyes with his fading blue-dyed hair? Cute 💕

Please do support me on my Ko-fi! ☕

[that-sarcastic-optimist]

hi firstly love your one-shots and drabbles if you are still taking requests i would love to see one where kluas and caroline meet somewhere and he annoys her predictably haha but he grows on her but she doesn't want a relationship (reason known or unknown) and they go their sepertae ways only to see each other again where they fall for each ohter. thank you!

“This is a complete waste of time,” Caroline hisses, her phone in danger of being crushed by her grip. “I hate this.”

“So you’ve said, Care,” Bonnie’s voice comes through the phone, pots clanging behind her.

“You better not mess up my system, Bon,” Caroline warns her, handing money to the barista. “I'm already in a bad mood, so I will kill you when I get home.”

“Oh, you mean when you get home in a few…weeks?” Bonnie asks innocently. “That sounds about right.”

Caroline growls. “You're a menace and I hate you.”

“Liar,” Bonnie says cheerfully. “Bye, Care!”

She hangs up and Caroline irritably shoves the phone in her purse, mutters a thank you and grabs her coffee.

She’s only managed a few steps before it’s knocked right out of her hands. Coffee flies out of the cup (not literally, but enough to look like it’s in slow motion) and lands on her shirt, and the suit of the man before her.

Caroline stares at the shirt of the man before her in shock, unable to process her current predicament.

Then she’s reminded of her task for the day, and finds her voice.

“You…you klutz!” she shrieks, clenching her fists. “Are you incapable of looking where y—”

Her voice dies at she looks the man in the face.

And, really, she scolds herself for that later, but not in the moment, because wow.

Curly blonde hair. Eyes bluer than any sapphire she’s seen. And cheekbones that look like they were carved from freaking stone.

It’s all ruined, of course, by the arrogant, slightly annoyed, but at the same time, smug look on his face.

The nerve of this man.

Caroline finds her voice again, and draws herself up to her full height. “Well? Are you going to apologize?”

The man raises an eyebrow. “Apologize for what exactly, love?”

Caroline should be given an award for not melting at the accent, because turns out the guy is freaking British. How does that even happen?

“Are you blind? Can you not see my blouse?” she retorts snippily.

“I am not the one who bumped into someone clumsily—”

“I'm sorry, are you insinuating that this is my fault?”

“Well, you were looking elsewhere—”

“You were on your phone!” Caroline spits. “It is literally still in your hand!”

The man looks at his phone, confused. “Oh,” he says dismissively. “Must’ve been distracted. Terribly sorry, I was in the middle of a very important email. I'm sure you understand, given that you seem to be a…” He trails off, trying to make sense of her outfit.

“Model,” Caroline supplies sarcastically.

His eyebrows tick up. “Well, I wouldn’t be surprised, honestly.”

“You're a dick,” Caroline seethes. “Get out of my way.”

She’s two steps away from the door before he’s in her way again. “What?” she asks irritably.

The man smiles. “My sincerest apologies, love. Allow me to acquit myself.”

“Don’t call me love.”

“Can I have a name?” He dimples at her. The guy has the gall to freaking. Dimple.

“No,” she says shortly, pushing past him, striding out the door.

The ass has the nerve to follow her. “As I previously stated, love, I do apologize. Profusely. I was in a hurry, and I—”

“Great. Apology accepted. Now leave.”

He stops her, coming to stand in front of her. “What can I do to make it up to you?”

And he sounds earnest, so Caroline frowns. She sighs, setting the nearly empty cup of coffee down on a counter. “Nothing,” she grumps, grabbing a bunch of napkins and dabbing at her blouse. “Not much you could anyway. My shirt is ruined, and I have a very important thing I need to do—”

“That’s not an issue,” the man interrupts. “We’re on fifth avenue, love,” he smiles. “Do take your pick, I'd be happy to replace your clothing.”

Caroline eyes him warily. “Okay, I know you're a guy and all, but you have to know fifth avenue isn't a regular—”

“Anything you want.” He’s grinning, and Caroline closes her eyes in frustration.

“Fine. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

.

.

.

It’s amazing how patient he is.

It’s been forty-five minutes since they’ve been in one store, and the guy—Nik, he tells her—follows her wherever she goes, holding her purse as she browses through the racks.

Caroline itches to tell him to look at the price tags, because she’s in freaking Gucci and the stuff here is not cheap. She has two pairs of designer clothing, at most, in her closet at home, one of which was a gift, and this guy is letting her parade around in the store like she owns it.

“Are you sure—” she starts again, whirling to face him.

Nik smiles at her, cocking at eyebrow. “My answer is the same, as it was the last four times you asked.”

Caroline rolls her eyes, unable to keep a smile forming on her face, turning away to hide it. “You're very good at this, you know,” she informs him, looking at him through the rows of hangers.

Nik looks at her bemusedly. “Good at what?”

“The whole shopping thing. You know, where a couple is on a date, and it was the girlfriend’s turn to pick, and the guy just drags her bags around while trying not to collapse of boredom. You're very steady on your feet.”

Nik’s grin broadens. “So we’re on a date?”

A flush spreads across her face. “I didn’t say that.”

“But you implied it,” he replies cheerfully, his lips twitching when she glares at him.

“Opinion,” she orders, ignoring his last statement, holding a pretty red shirt against her chest. It’s modest and cute enough for jury duty, and the price range is affordable enough that Caroline would consider buying it for herself.

Nik surveys it, cocking his head to the side. “It’s nice,” he says finally. “But it would help if you told me the occasion of where you wanted to wear it.”

“Jury duty,” she answers dismissively, folding it over her arm and eyeing another blue blouse that’d go great with her jacket.

Nik freezes behind her, and Caroline frowns, turning around to face him. “What?”

“Nothing, love. Which case are you on?”

“I'm not supposed to tell anyone, actually. Even if I did, I don’t know yet, but I do know they're taking us to Boston for a couple weeks.”

Nik nods slowly. “I see.”

Caroline narrows her eyes. “Why are you being weird?”

“I'm not,” he laughs. “Have you chosen what you're buying, then?”

Caroline hesitates, looking the two shirts in her hands over. “The red one,” she says finally. “It’ll look nice with my skirt. I just think you should check the price—”

Nik turns the label over, barely giving it a glance before handing his card over to the cashier. Caroline’s mouth drops as he takes the bill, handing her the shopping bag. “There. Do you want to go change in the dressing room? I'll wait outside.”

“Uh, I..” She’s stuttering, reddens when he smirks at her. “Yes,” she manages, whirling into the changing room and locking the door behind her.

She finds Nik outside the store when she comes out, checking his phone, typing something out. He grins when he sees her, pocketing the phone immediately. “Thank you,” she bursts out before he can say anything. “I didn’t…I never expected you to actually go through with it.”

Nik shrugs. “I did ruin your blouse, love. It was an easy fix.”

“An expensive fix,” Caroline corrects him. “Can I buy you coffee?”

Nik smirks. “Are you asking me out?”

Caroline scoffs. “I am not. I'm asking you if you want to get coffee after you so rudely spilled mine.”

“Ah, excuses,” he says breezily, tugging her towards the coffee shop. “The lengths to which you go to, sweetheart, when you could easily have me without even asking.”

She hasn’t blushed this much since ninth grade when Matt asked her to the Valentine’s dance.

“Cocky,” she replies haughtily, letting herself be led. “This is not a date, Nik. I'm not interested.”

“Keep telling yourself that, love.”

.

.

.

He's funny, she realizes, and in a way she actually gets. He gets her jokes and nods and makes remarks at the right times, meaning he's actually listening. He's ridiculously charming as well, flirting with her in between all their stories. He's witty, and smart. And it's not like he's not good-looking generally, but—

His smile.

God.

He looks so handsome when he smiles.

Is it really her fault she kisses him when he slides the last piece of his cake over to her?

Nik's eyes are dark when she pulls away, and her face reddens. "I—I'm sor—"

"Don't you dare apologize for that," Nik murmurs, surging forward to take her lips with his again, making her apology die on her tongue.

His lips are swollen when he pulls away. "Have dinner with me."

Caroline smiles. "No."

No relationships for a year. She doesn't have time for a relationship with her new job, and certainly not with a man who makes her forget every coherent thought she has when he kisses her.

He frowns. "Why?"

"It's complicated," she answers, and he doesn't press further, just pouts.

"How am I supposed to kiss someone else after this, then? You're a glorious kisser."

She snorts. "You have a memory, then."

"I'll make sure it lasts. Just two kisses, though, I feel deprived."

She grins at him over her coffee. She means it, though. Not the part about him being an idiot, the part about a relationship. She doesn't even have time to hang out with her friends lately, a boyfriend is more than she can handle.

However...

"Well," she continues, biting her lip. "That depends."

"On what?"

"If you think I'm trashy if I tell you I want to take your clothes off in the bathroom."

She pretends his smirk does nothing for her.

.

.

.

For a split-second she'd thought she'd regret this.

The thought is quickly snuffed when Nik locks the stall behind them and presses his lips to her neck.

Normally, she'd be worried about getting attached. But she’s going off to Boston soon, and she never has to see him again, so what's the harm?

“Well, you could come to dinner with me when you get back,” Nik answers her question between lazy strokes of his tongue against her clit while she grips the marble countertop hard enough to break it.

“I'm still not going out with you,” Caroline gasps out, fisting her hand in his hair.

Nik clicks his tongue. “One excellent fuck on the counter it is, then.”

Caroline sighs when he surges up to kiss her and unbuttons her blouse. “I don’t usually do this, you know.”

“What?” Nik asks between kisses as she pushes the suit jacket off his shoulders and shoves down his pants.

“Have quickies in bathrooms of coffee shops.”

Nik looks delighted. “So I'm your first, then?”

“God, you're insufferable,” she groans, pulling him by his tie. “Are you ever not annoyi—”

She’s silenced by a quick thrust of his hips when he claps a hand over her mouth to stifle her moan.

.

.

.

“How’s the hotel?” Bonnie asks her as she’s getting dressed the next day.

“It’s nice.” Caroline runs a brush through her hair, frowning when the back puffs up. “I have to be at the courthouse in an hour. Luckily it’s only twenty minutes away. I might grab a coffee or something.”

“Well, good luck. Have fun jury-ing.”

“That’s not a word.”

“I'm going to go mess up your pots and pans now. Bye!”

Caroline mutters something unflattering under her breath, then grabs her purse and her room key, walking out the door. Stupid jury duty. She’s definitely going to be ranting at Bonnie when she gets home. Her best friend has the patience of a saint, she’d handle it.

Her cab’s late, predictably, but she reaches the courthouse with ten minutes to spare. She finds the courtroom quickly, and takes her seat just in time to see the judge sit down.

“All rise,” the judge drones, and everyone stands up, the defendant nervously looking at the jury when the bailiff swears them in. “Department one of the superior court is now in session, please be seated. The court calls to order Case 12389A. Prosecutor, opening statement, if you will.”

“Yes, your Honour,” says a voice from the far end, and Caroline’s brain stutters to a stop when she sees Nik stand up, his hands in the pockets of his suit.

Her eyes widen comically and she lets out a squeak, clapping her hand over her mouth. The juror next to her sends her a concerned look, which she brushes off. Nik’s still talking, but she’s not even paying attention. She’s on the jury on his case? Is this even ethical?

He doesn’t notice her, his eyes fixed on the judge, but Caroline’s fuming.

She’s going to kill him. She’d mentioned she’d be going to Boston for jury duty. Had it just conveniently slipped his mind to inform her that he was a lawyer who might be on the case she was on?

Maybe it’d be better, though. He’s probably forgotten her by now.

Nik sits back down, done with his opening statement, and with a quick sweep of the room, sends her a wink.

Her mouth actually drops.

“Potential juror thirteen.” A stern voice snaps her out of her trance to see the defence glaring at her. “Is there a problem?”

Caroline closes her mouth, gritting her teeth. “I have a conflict of interest.”

“By what—”

“It’s a personal—”

“Your Honour—”

The judge doesn’t even bat an eye. “Potential juror thirteen, you're dismissed.”

Well, at least something she’d seen on TV was true. Americans were really terrible about jury duty.

She storms out, ignoring the way Nik’s eyes twinkled when he laughed silently at her fit. Oh, she’s going to kill him. The nerve of him.

The fact that the guard outside tells her she can't leave the hotel they’ve been sequestered in because she was part of the case for however a short time doesn’t help her mood.

Neither does the knock at her door that night, which reveals the prosecutor himself, grinning at her, flashing her his dimples.

“Hello, love,” Nik smiles. “How about that dinner now?”

She slams the door in his face.

He wins her over eventually.

A year later.

[roanniom]

eddie buying a box of kids’ valentines at the store and filling them out for you and leaving them all over for you to find. adorable menace <3

💞💞💞💞

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Haha aww I saw your follow up ask saying the Valentines are like these and I soooo see it.

You're doing your make up in the bathroom and open the medicine cabinet to find one propped between the bottles. The inside says "I think you're sweet" in Eddie's scrawled handwriting. It makes you chuckle and shake your head but you go about continuing to get ready.

The next one you find between the toaster and the bread box when you wander in to make breakfast. You find that the coffee pot is freshly brewed also, which is odd because Eddie supposedly left for work half an hour prior. Suspicious, you open this second card to find it says "And by sweet I mean I love tasting you."

You gasp and slam the card shut, looking around wildly as if anyone else would be in your apartment looking over your shoulder.

"Eddie?" you call out quietly. Not really expecting him to be around the corner but now obviously more suspicious that's the case. You roll your eyes and make your breakfast, trying to ignore the thought of your man doing your favorite thing in the world to you when you know you have a full day of productivity ahead of you.

The third card you find on top of your purse, which you find is resting on a box of chocolates on the couch. Inside it says "For Valentine's Day I got you your favorite sweet treat - chocolate. So it's only fair you give me mine in return."

You're already beginning to huff at the absurdity of it all but before you can think on it a second more you're being tossed onto the couch by a very not-at-work-Eddie. He's got you on your back, skirt flipped up in two seconds flat.

"Edward Munson!" you cry out, unable to keep the laugh out of your voice. He looks at you from between your legs, hair disheveled and face confused.

"What?"

"Its...we...what about work?" you sputter, completely unable to argue under any other pretense because his thumb is already massaging your clit through your panties and you cannot count on your body to hide your reactions. Bitch. Eddie gives you a brilliant smile.

"That's what you're worried about? I called us both out."

Your last resolve snaps like a fucking twig and you grab him by the back of his head, pulling him against your core.

"Thank fucking god."

~*~

[crybabyddl]

Looking Sharp

Part 2

Keith Kogane x Fem!Reader

Warning: smut, knife play, degradation, praise, dirty talk, swearing. Please do not interact with this content if you are not 18+

Author’s Note: happy keithtober, happy kinktober let’s fucking gooooo

^^^LMAO it’s been WAYYYY too long. Like, over a year. I’m so sorry to everyone who has been waiting for this bc I’ve racked up quite a taglist for this story alone haha. But seriously, thank you for all the support on part 1 and I hope you enjoy part 2!!!🥰

—

“You, Y/N, are a tease,” Keith’s look turns cold in replacement of the heat from his lustful gaze. “And I’m tired of it. Let’s see just how clean cut you are…”

His voice trails off, as well as his stare. His pupils are redirected to the thin, beautifully crafted knife, and I have no choice but to let my eyes follow.

He drags the weapon agonizingly slowly up my leg. The pressure is feather light. The ghost of Keith’s disconnected touch has my body temperature doing cartwheels.

“When I have you begging me to let you cum as I press this cold, sharp blade on the inside of those precious thighs of yours, shall we?”

Just when I thought my jaw was locked shut in disbelief and awe, his sensual musings easily loosened that tension.

“Y-yes. Oh my god, yes.” I breathe, reaching out for the paladin’s chest to bring him closer.

Keith evades my grasp and moves to spin me around, holding me flush against him. I can feel the dagger’s chill on my neck while his erection meets my backside.

“Not like you had much of a choice.”

—

It was almost too good to be true—somehow Keith knew my body as well as I did. The way he tightened his hold on me whenever I’d try to squirm out of his grasp; the icy stares he’d give me whenever a gasp escaped my lips.

Part of me felt guilty for enjoying this so much. It made no sense, but that didn’t stop me from worrying. My anxiety must’ve been evident on my face, because Keith seemed to notice something was amiss.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, his voice was softer, trading in his raspy, demanding tone for considerate and gentle inflections. The swordsman even lowered his knife, genuinely concerned for my wellbeing.

“Sorry,” I sighed, separating myself from him completely. “It’s just a lot all at once, you know? Plus, I never really thought this would happen. I mean, you’re… you, and I’m just me. It doesn’t make much sense.”

“What are you talking about? That’s ridiculous, Y/N.” Keith’s eyebrows arch as he searches my eyes for an indication of some sort.

“I– well, I just got overwhelmed is all.” I shrugged as my mouth formed a grimace.

“No, not that part. I totally understand that, and I feel it too! I’m talking about the whole ‘you’re you and I’m just me’ thing. Why would you think that?” Keith actually looks pained when he repeats my own words back to me.

“Think about it, Keith. You and I are so different and if something like this never happened, we probably never would’ve known how we felt about each other. And if you take into account our personalities in general, anything between us is bound to end in disaster. Like I said, we don’t make much sense.” I look down at the floor, unable to meet his—without a doubt—awkward sympathetic gaze.

“We don’t have to make sense! We just have to like being around each other! I’ve never felt this way with anyone before; do you know how hard it is for me to admit something like that? There’s no way to know what happens or what’ll become of any of this, but it’s not important right now. I never thought I’d be the one to say that, but it’s the truth.”

“I guess I just thought that you were too good for me. I mean, you’re a paladin of Voltron for fuck’s sake!”

Keith stays silent for a moment, smiling softly to himself as he looks down at the ground.

“Keith?” I try to recapture his attention, waving a hand in front of his face. He laughs again.

“Are you kidding? You’re practically perfect! Smart, kind, funny, a badass fighter, and god, you are so pretty.”

“I’m far from perfect, silly. Besides, that’s how I feel about you!” I feel my cheeks burning, but try my best to ignore it.

Keith closes the distance between us and gently grabs my face with both hands. Before I can think better of it, my hands find their way on top of his, keeping his touch there.

“Will you ever learn to take people for their word?” He chuckles.

I lean into his touch, and I could’ve sworn my heart was beating out of my chest in that moment.

“Probably not.” I shrugged, looking up at the paladin and giving him a sly smirk.

He rips his hands out of my grasp, my cheeks becoming cold from the sudden loss of his touch.

“Well then,” Keith is quick to sweep his leg under me, sure to catch me before I trip, laying me down gently on the floor. My breathing becomes ragged as he positions himself over me. I feel trapped, but I don’t mind it now. “I guess I’ll have to take care of that, won’t I?”

“Good luck with that.” I say nonchalantly, or at least as nonchalantly as possible. I was doting on his every breath, impatiently anticipating what his next words, movements, or touches would be.

“Thanks. Not that I needed the encouragement, but I will say it does help.”

The silence that would’ve formed between us is swiftly overthrown by my sudden gasp as Keith brings his knife back into the equation. He has it against my cheekbone, the blade is horizontal as its steely edge rests upon my skin.

“Does it turn you on that your life is in my hands?”

“I trust you.” I tell him. He would never hurt me, at least not without my consent. Despite his confidence on the battlefield, he was typically quite awkward in conversation.

“Oh, that’s sweet, you think this is about trust. I could do whatever I wanted to with you right now. You’re just my plaything and you won’t be forgetting that by the time I’m done with you.” His smirk is subtle, but it brandishes its image in my brain with hot iron.

He’s still on top of me, but he’s apprehensive, meaning I can still take control of the situation. I use the opportunity to grab him by his collar, yanking him down so his face is mere inches from mine. His dark blue, almost indigo eyes are locked into mine. He seems more vulnerable, but Keith always shields himself from others to some degree.

“Well tough shit, paladin. I don’t answer to anyone but myself.”

“Is that so?” he looks skeptical. “Well if that’s the case, then I guess I’ll be on my way out–”

“Wait!” I place my hand around the back of his neck, releasing my other hand from its grip on the collar of his shirt.

Keith eyes me, offering a quizzical hum.

“Please stay. I was just trying to be sexy and defiant! I don’t actually want you to go.”

While his expression gave no insight as to what he might be feeling, I could tell Keith was affected by my confession. I just wasn’t sure how. He was sitting up straight now, a distance created between us.

The moment was only a few seconds away from being awkward when I heard him scoff. Not only that, but that same smirk from before had returned.

“You were trying to be ‘sexy and defiant’?”

“Uh,” I swallowed hard, but not audibly. “Yeah. Those were the words I chose to say out loud.”

“I’m sure you’re wishing you’d chosen something better to say, aren’t you?” He laughed into the last word he spoke.

I nodded.

“That’s the thing about honesty,” he pauses, leaning back over me, looking directly into my eyes. “It leads to weakness.”

His words sent fire down my sternum. Feeling the cool metal of his blade return to my neck shot that heat downward, pooling in my stomach and searing against my clit.

—

Looking Sharp Taglist: @tompetersebbuckyhazleo @iris-iiridescent @deadgirlvamp666 @thevalkyriee @growingupnrealizing @fookinslut4harry @fictional-addiction

[ghost-proofbaby]

GHOST'S "OPEN BAR" 3K CELEBRATION

as a way to say thank you and show my appreciation for hitting 3k, i decided it's about time for a party around here... don't y'all? and what better way to get a party started than to get a little boozy! (haha get it? BOOzy? because ghost? no? okay i'll stop.)

THE RULES: below the cut will be a fun menu filled to the brim with delicious drinks! send me an ask with your order, and as long as it follows my general rules, i'll whip it right up for you! the idea here is each drink represents a different general trope, and you fill in the blanks with a character of your choosing (see below) as well as general ideas! below will be examples of requests. i will being doing as many of these requests as possible for this week, from april 3rd (today) to april 8th. starting april 9th, i have a different fun week planned for us to keep the party going, and will announce it on sunday <3

WHO I'M WRITING FOR: eddie munson, steve harrington, spencer reid, and joel miller. you must specify the character in your request, or i will not complete it.

EXAMPLES OF REQUESTS: "hi! can i get a filthy martini with eddie munson? maybe some overstimulation involving toys?" or "can i get a flute of champagne with joel miller? maybe what the end of the day looks like in the QZ!" you can get as specific or as vague as you'd like! these are just examples :-)

also, before we dive in, i've also filled this post with easter eggs towards just a few of my favorite fics/authors (and a couple of my own). i have added a link over each reference in case any of them catch your eye. i wouldn't have hit this milestone without all of these wonderful people who inspire and support me, and there was no way i wasn't sending a nod their way during this event. i love y'all endlessly <3

alright, onwards with the party bus, friends!

THE MENU:

🥃 WILLOW'S OLD-FASHIONED: angst

long week? a new job babysitting a rockstar that just cannot and will not behave? has that blonde coworker you just wish you could slap into the next week gotten on your final nerve? look no further! sit back and cry relax with one of our famous old-fashioneds!

🍷 ASH'S SPECIAL: hurt/comfort

whiskey and bitters not your cup of tea? be still your old heart! no worries! relax like the world's ending from your long week with a good book and a glass of our famous Sauvignon Blanc instead!

🥂 FLUTE OF CHAMPAGNE: fluff

sip on some of our top shelf Dom Perignon and get lost in the bubbles! this classic will have you feeling so good, it's almost as if you've traded bodies with your arch nemesis in a freaky friday ordeal. just don't think too hard about his... mechanics below the belt... or this drink might be a boner killer. let the good times roll!

🍸 FILTHY MARTINI: smut

feeling dirty? look no further. here at ghost's, we've got you covered with one of our dirty, downright filthy martinis. disclaimer: we are not legally responsible for you getting colorfully intimate with your friend's dad or if you end up in a 3-film-box-set porno deal. yeah, our lawyers make us put those disclaimers now. keep it in your pants, folks!

not looking to get tipsy tonight? no worries! check out our extended menu options - we've still got you covered <3

☕ CUP OF SUNSHINE: mutual pining

get it hot! get it iced! get it fresh! as long as you get it before it's gone! wake yourself up with a cup of our coffee brewed in-house. cream and sugar available upon request. (hot and dirty sex in the back room not available upon request.)

🥐 KARMEN'S CROISSANTS: exes to lovers

be sure to grab a snack during your night out! these croissants are absolutely to die for (just don't fall for your reaper, folks!). enjoy this lamented pastry in our favorite armchair by the window while enjoying one of our many books laid out for your pleasure!

easter eggs i'm unable to tag (aka banner):

the "yes" policy

and my own twenty-four hours

also, filthy martini is fully a shout out to the legend behind the man of the hour who has inspired a large majority of these fics as well as my own - mr. joseph quinn himself. may all his martinis be the absolute filthiest.

once again, thank you all. i will never know how to repay the kindness showed to me, so i will do what i do best - write. also, please keep in mind i have no idea how many requests i will receive. my hope is to complete as many as possible without driving myself to absolute madness; please be kind and patient with me <3

[magma-club-kinhelp]

Heeeyyyyy! Welcome to the Magma Club kinhelp :D

You may call me Mod Voidling or Mod Bo (pick and choose, I don't really care much), I use most neopronouns!! (currently I'm enjoying gi/gift, camp/fire, and snap/snaps) I'm the only mod currently, but if anyone wants to help, I'll probably take it haha (no promises tho)

Here at the Magma Club, we offer the following services:

Names and/or neopronoun suggestions! (only for well known sources, sorry!) - what it says in the tin, I'll give name and/or neopronoun suggestions based around a theme!

Kinfessions, come on in and feel free to just talk about stuff from memories or experiences

(or just pop in and talk about random stuff, I love chatting with people!)

Timelines questions (only for better known sources, sorry!) - 5-10 questions about your timeline to help you sort out mems!

Canoncalls/sourcecalls - find people from your source/canon and compare mems and just chat!

Stim headcanons - a selection of headcanons based around stims your kintype might have done!

Gender finding - send in some themes and I'll do my best to find between 4-8 xenogenders that might fit!

So yeah, not a lot but it's what I can do! (I am looking for another mod who could do stuff like stimboards/moodboards, send in an ask or dm me if you want to help!)

I am also unable to provide/use images currently, as my laptop is a bit weird about it. If this changes I will let you know.

Sources I can do (well known ones are bold! favorites are bold+ italicized):

Hermitcraft (mostly season 7 onward!)

Traffic Games (3rd, Last, Double Life)

Empires SMP

Dream SMP

Other Minecraft SMPs

Minecraft (base game)

BATIM (I know less about the books but with enough info I can probably do stuff!)

FNaF

The Magnus Archives

The Owl House

Magnus Chase (all three books!)

Non-canon/OCs (you're all good in my book :])

Sally Face

Little Nightmares

Warrior Cats

Wings Of Fire

How To Train Your Dragon (films and books (and games!)

If a source isn't listed, feel free to ask about it! I'm pretty good with most things tbh :D

------

Tagging system: <Let me introduce myself> - Mod posts <Welcome to the group!> - Request accepted! <Fires. not my thing> - Request denied :( <Come get your snacks :D> - Request completed!

(will update as tags become necessary!)

Anon List:

(nothing yet!)

-----

DNI/Disclaimer:

I am an aroace minor who is still in school, and as such I am asking people to not interact if you're going to bring nsfw things into the blog and to not rush me, as I am doing this during my free time.

I am a singlet and I do not have a stance on syscource, as it does not affect me nor is it my place to say anything.

Following that, discourse of any kind is not allowed. You will be warned as a first offense, and after that you will receive a block.

I do not have a set blacklist, but I will not be doing requests for any Harry Potter media or intojects/factives of real people. Other then that, I will handle requests as a case by case basis. (Note: just because I am not doing requests for factives/introjects of real people does not mean they cannot interact, I just personally do not feel comfortable filling those requests at this point. You are still good to interact!)

[kutputli]

Ted Lasso 3x11 - The Point and Laugh Edition

Like I said before, this is the Ja Schadenfreude Zone, so I am being entirely smug about the writers messing up the white characters, after having sat through three seasons of them fucking up the non-white ones. (Does this mean that they are not racist, merely incompetent? No, no it does not. They are both racist and incompetent. Both. Both is good.jpg)

I'll talk about Nathan's ridiculous arc, but I do want to take a moment to actually talk about Jamie because - I actually did enjoy the slow growth and evolution of his character, and he was an amusing piece of the ensemble that I was fond of. And the show really had done a good job of slowly and consistently building his evolution.

Why would they fuck that up?! It genuinely baffles me.

Playing Jamie breaking down in tears for laughs was just a horrible choice. There are moments when you can flip on a dime from humour to pathos, but those moments are mostly when something new is introduced, something the viewer did not know that gives a different meaning to the action. But we already knew Jamie was depressed. Roy already knew Jamie was depressed. Are we supposed to laugh at his breakdown? When Roy did not? What the fuck reaction were the writers and director looking for?

And then following that up with Jamie has an Oedipus-ly hot mom (and both Roy and Keeley Noticed) is... what does that add to the story? How does it help the characters with their arc? If you want to go there, fucking Go There.

All of which was to, what - build to Ted Lasso telling Jamie Tartt to forgive his dad for his own well-being?

Yikes dude.

Anyway, none of it made any sense. The reason people ask for authenticity in stories set in the real world is not for verisimilitude, but because it grounds the characters. This show has just completely unmoored itself from the world we live in, and when it does that, the characters become unmoored too. Why is Jamie's mom still living in his childhood home? Why does Ted Lasso still live in a flat with only one bed if he's had his son over to visit for weeks? Why would the manager of the most successful team in the Premier League not get job offers from other teams?

Yeah ok, so Nathan huh?

It's just - this writing is so fucking stupid. It leads to ridiculous scenes like Colin and Isaac and Will staring at Nathan and him staring back. In Taste of Athens. Unable to reference any of the history these people have had with each other because Ted Lasso does not believe in talking about the past unless its a folksy story involving scatological references.

I can actually buy Nathan taking up any job at all to stay busy, because that's Lloyd Shelley's work ethic showing up, where you're a failure if you're not employed, but I absolutely cannot buy that no other team would solicit him. Unless he's been blackmouthed, sorry, whitemouthed, as a fraud and a danger, in which case - that's a huge racism related story to tell.

And then the whole 50 page apology letter and the haha trapped in the office video and Beard sharing his Ted is Jesus story and its all just - where is the logic?

Addiction is not Bullying in the workplace and Racist microaggressions. Beard's story deserves its own attention, because trying to maintain relationships with people who are recovering addicts is a hugely important story to tell, and neither carceral punishment nor limitless forgiveness are appropriate responses to the damage that addiction can do. Nathan's story deserves its own attention - workplace cultures, racism, property damage (if you want to get into that fucking sign) - all of them deserve to be talked about.

But Ted Lasso the show doesn't want to talk about issues. It wants to talk about only Ted Lasso the character and his moments of Jesus-as-interpreted-by-white-modern-Christians. (Frankly, a little more Jesus as the angry activist in the Temple of Jerusalem would be a welcome break, in this economy).

And as a result of this monomaniacal focus, even the floppy cock of a redemption narrative falls flat. Because it has not been earned by any any of the characters at fault. It has only been granted on high, to prove the moral superiority of Ted.

And it's not even a particularly endearing Ted. The man himself comes across like a bowl of stale cornflakes in lukewarm milk that's been left out on the table for too long. Everyone, including the narrative, is doing the work for him, from Nathan in season 1 to Keeley in season 3 because… what, Rebecca is now too cheap to pay for a therapist to be on call for the team? What is the point of making Sarah Niles a regular if you couldn't use her? What is the point of showing Roy and Keeley spending two seasons learning how to communicate with each other for them to suddenly only be able to use their words to be the Pinkertons Agents for Jamie?

Look, a callback is only as good as its execution. Many fans have been scouring each frame for clues in the belief that these are tightly plotted arcs where everything is going to have some additional meaning in a later episode. It is true that not everything is about race.

But when a show fails as badly as this one has at treating race as the powerful force of characterisation, that is a symptom of the problem that the writers are not capable of truly thoughtful storytelling. And that is what makes this third season so weak.

We all knew that Nathan was going to be 'redeemed'. Most of us predicted that Ted would return to Kansas and Nathan to Richmond because that was the logical outcome of the values the show has been espousing. (And I alone predicted that Ms Kake would be the downfall of Rupert because I am a vicious critic of the show but I am also an observant analyser of it dammit).

It was how these storylines were going to be presented that mattered. And that is where the show has failed. It is not kind to the characters to ignore their wounds and their motivations. It is not kind to actors who have dug deep into their characterisation to ham it up as comic relief. It is not kind to the audience to ask them to selectively remember the past. It is not kind to people in pain from mental health issues and structural oppressions to flippantly solve all problems with an anecdote and a white man's forgiveness.

This is not a show which is actually kind, and it is a show that keeps telling everyone it is.

(I said this was the Point and Laugh post, but I guess… I'm just feeling too bummed out by the end of writing all this out to laugh. Perhaps that is kindness? No, I think it's just apathy.)

[yisony07]

Daddy's new masked husband

A/N: The moment I publish this is January 2nd, my birthday (🎉🎂) and to celebrate with you I want to bring you this story. It's a little silly, but anyway, I hope you like it. 

This is the sequel of:

Armand Stewart couldn't believe the circumstances he found himself in, and neither could Thomas Westwood, the man lying naked next to him. Among them was a mask, and on the table some wedding rings.

Let's rewind a few weeks back.

Armand had made the most of his powers with the mask going from bar to bar, until one day he met a man, more or less his age with whom he had been in awe.

Masked Armand came up to him, during the joy of the party, and took him home with him. Armand tasted of his cock and fed the man his own milk; the couple performed the act several times and Masked Armand, marveling at the man, thought for a while what he could do to keep track of him.

"ARE YOU SINGLE, BABY?" Armand asked as he penetrated the man Thomas, doggystyle. "'CAUSE MY HEART WANTS TO FOLLOW YA EVER".

"Ah… Fu… Fu… Yeah… I'm… A… Single…" Thomas replied, his mind drifting.

"WELL, I CAN SEE THE FUTURE" Thomas watched as a crystal ball appeared in front of him. "AND I SEE US TOGETHER AND HAPPY, WILL YOU MARRY ME?!" And two rings appeared where the ball used to be.

One of the strangest sensations that Thomas could feel in his life was sexual pleasure mixed with laughter at a joke. His breathing was ragged, and high-pitched moans came from his lips, both his laughter and his moans struggling to escape his lips. "Are… Ah-fu-haha… you… crazy?" managed to formulate Thomas, who already felt quite a lot of cum accumulating in him. "We… Fuck yeah… barely know… Uff… each other… fuck!"

"OH MAN, EVERYTHING ABOUT ME IS CRAZY, BABY!!" Masked Armand increased the pace of his thrust. "C-CUMMING!!" And a stream of cum shot out of Armand's penis, so much so that the masked man was shot backwards propelled by his penis, hitting the wall, not getting hurt. "FIU… THAT'S THE BEST SEX I EVER HAVE, BABE, WHADDYA SAY?!" And then he kind of passed out a little bit, with some birds circling over his head.

Thomas cummed too, and his cum stained the rings. Between gasps he watched the prone body of the masked man. To tell the truth, and despite the 'carnal' circumstances, it was the greatest physical-emotional connection he had ever had with anyone. He smiled and put on one of the rings and went and put the other on the man. As he did so, the rings emitted a green glow. Thomas lifted the body of the masked man and placed it on the bed.

"I'll see you someday, my husband" And Thomas, after cleaning himself, left, leaving the body sleeping.

(...)

"I can't believe I married a complete stranger!" Armando thought with some surprise, unable to understand the circumstances. "Stupid mask!" He was lamenting. Since that busy night, of which he did not remember much since he was pretty tired when hd transformed (the mask hit his head when he was about to sleep), he had noticed a strange change in his documents: they said that he had married a certain Thomas Westwood, whom he did not know and did not seem to have any social media. To top it off, he was wearing a green wedding ring with gold details, indicating that he had been under the effect of the mask.

Armand was in his car on his way to camp to pick up his son, Jack. A notorious blush was on his cheeks as he recalled the strange things he had done during those two months. "I hope Jack never finds out…".

He arrived at the camp and at the door he saw his son with full suitcases. The first thing he did was hug him, and then, after carrying the bags to the car, father and son made their way home. Jack would go on and on about what he did at camp, about the crafts he did, kayaking, camping outside around a wood fire eating marshmallows… So many activities the kid had done, to which Armand would give some comment of genuine interest, even though his mind wanted to wander over his situation.

"Dad… what's that ring?" Jack asked watching him. "I had never seen anything like it."

"I found it while you were gone… it has an unusual design so I decided to keep it" he lied, and Jack believed him.

"And did you remember to buy the school supplies?"

"No…" Armand whispered, astonished that he had forgotten.

"Yes! Let's go to the supermarket!"

Father and son, when they got to the city they took a little detour and went to the supermarket, where they bought the school supplies for Jack; lucky for Armand that they were on sale, because Jack asked for a lot of things, and he doubted how necessary they would be for school. Then they went back to his house, and while they were putting away the purchases, Jack remembered something.

"Dad, what happened to the mask from that time?"

"I threw it away" Armand lied again, and he felt worse. "We won't have to hear from it."

He actually had it in a drawer in his room, inaccessible to Jack, but he didn't want to know, less imagine what would happen in that case.

Father and son enjoyed the vacation time they had together, and Armand had no time to think about his supposed current husband...

In the blink of an eye the start of the school year had come and Armand, like the responsible father that he was, had taken his son to school and then returned home, where he was alone without doing much. His father, Don Stewart, had left him a fortune when she died and he realized that it was not necessary for him to work to raise his son, so he was bored, and his mind took the opportunity to ruminate. about his situation.

"Maybe if I put on the mask… No! I don't want to do another crazy thing…" he told himself. "What would Thomas think of this… And if I did run into him… What would Jack think of him?"

When you're concentrating on an idea, you can spend hours on it without noticing the passage of time, and that was what had happened to Armand when he realized he had to look for Jack. He went to school in his car and the boy got in.

"Dad, the teacher I got is amazing and funny!" said the boy.

"Really? That's weird, you're not the type to like teachers" the father joked and the boy snorted.

"But this one is different… It makes learning interesting! Just like the camp!" he said quickly. At that moment Armand started the car. "And he had a ring just like yours!"

"What?!" Armand turned suddenly in shock and they both felt a great jolt. "Sorry, son, I was… surprised…"

"Wow…" Jack took a few seconds to get settled. "But yeah, he had a ring very similar to yours. He passed the list and it came to my name and he seemed interested. At the end of class he asked about you, and I told him your name, that you didn't have much to do and that you were very lonely".

"Jack!" Armand chided, and the boy laughed. "You can't say things like that to your teacher…".

"Very late" answered the boy. "Do you want to know his name? He seemed interested in you…"

"What is?" Armando asked, feeling his chest tighten, and he feared for his son's next words.

"Thomas Westwood"

"Shit" thought the father, and they arrived at his house.

Being the first day, Jack hadn't been given homework, so he went to play immediately. Armand, more concerned, went to his room and lay down on his bed while he looked at the drawer where he had kept the mask.

"Magically married to my son's teacher… Fucking mask."

From that day on, Armand tried to bring and pick up his son early. It was such a strange situation and he didn't know how to handle it, so he avoided it. Thomas, as his son's teacher, used any excuse to call him and talk, but Armand dodged him, but Armand couldn't help it for long, and the moment came when, after Jack's first exams, where the grades from the first term, Thomas was forced to attend the Stewart house for a parent-teacher conference, since Armand failed to show up at school, something Jack had reported to his father.

And Armand was there, nervous, not knowing how to deal with the moment. Jack was there too, unaware of his father's thoughts. At Friday sunset, the doorbell rang and Jack opened the door. There was his teacher, whom he invited in. When he arrived in the room, Armand saw him and was fascinated. Not only because of the hot daddy who was in front of him, but because of the memories of that night that made him undress Thomas with his mind.

"Not now, Armand" he told himself as he felt his bulge. "Not in front of your son…" And he was relieved that it wasn't noticeable.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Stewart" Thomas greeted, extending his hand. Armand saw the ring, just like his own, just as his son had described it. Armand returned the greeting immediately. "You've been ignoring my attempts to contact him, but since we're face to face, we have a lot to talk about." Thomas emphasized 'a lot'.

"Yes, come on, make yourself comfortable here" Armand said pointing to a seat in the living room. The two men and the boy sat down and Thomas began to talk about Jack's behavior in class.

"I must confess that at first I didn't think he would do so well… he tends to move a lot and interrupt from time to time, but generally he is a good boy" explained the teacher. "Look at his grades, he has done excellent."

"That's my boy!" commented Armando smiling proudly, and Jack smiled as well.

The men continued their chatter, and Armand could see that Thomas was quite friendly, the kind of person who took the time and patience to help each boy individually. After the school conference was over, Thomas was about to say goodbye, but Armand stopped him.

"Don't you want… It dunno… stay here for dinner? We ordered pizza, in case you want to join us" said Armand. "And we could… talk, you know."

"Talk about what, dad? I thought this was just about school" Jack said confused.

"Adults have private business to attend to, Jack," Thomas explained. "I don't really have much to do so I could stay for dinner, although it would be unprofessional…" Armand gently removed Thomas' tie and laid it on the seat. Some attraction-affection was burning.

"The three of us could play the Wii together!" said the boy excitedly. "After dinner pizza, sure, please say yes, Mr. Westwood…"

The two adults laughed at the boy's witticisms and then looked at each other, a little dazed, and looked away blushing. Thomas, Armand, and Jack ate pizza that night while the adults chatted, knowing each other better (of course, censoring themselves in front of the kid) and making their circumstances clear. Anyone who saw them would say it was a good family atmosphere. After eating, the three of them began to play. The laughter of the adults at the orders of Jack, who was frustrated when a pitiful Armand and a little experienced Thomas constantly lost the New Super Mario Bros Wii. They spent hours playing before Jack yawned, a sign that he should sleep, and it was Thomas who read the story to make the boy snore.

Once they were sure that the boy was asleep, they closed the door and the pair of men went to Armand's room, where he witnessed the events that brought them together.

"Okay… could you show me the mask?" Thomas asked. Armand thought after explaining the whole thing that he, Thomas, would be upset, disgusted, or surprised, but he seemed rather intrigued. "The next day I was amazed to see that all my documents said that he was married to you since that night and it was really crazy…"

"Uh…" Armand wasn't sure what to say. "Yes, here it is…" Armand went to the drawer and took out the object.

"Wow," Thomas said, mask in hand.

"And what do you make of the fact that we're… you know… married to the law?"

Thomas looked deeply into Armand's eyes before answering. "It doesn't really change much about my life, although maybe I was alone so long that I got desperate" he paused to laugh bitterly "so I really don't care that much, I mean, if you want to try" And at that moment he settled on the bed.

Armand blushed and felt the hard bulge of him. "Of course… my dear"

Thomas stretched and yawned. "I'm sorry, but working with children is difficult; your son will be a good student, but all the boys together… A disaster"

Armand laughed and sat on the edge of the bed. "I imagine, and Jack on his account can be exhausting, but now we will share his presence, so I don't feel alone." Thomas and Armand laughed together again. "Excuse me a bit, I'll go pee…" Armand warned.

"Okay" Thomas said and watched as Armand went to the bathroom in the room, leaving him alone with the mask. "What strange things happen to one in life, right?" And he stared at the back of the mask. "So you put us in this situation, could you help us then?" And he laughed again. "Supposedly speaking to a mask…".

Thomas hadn't realized that the mask was emitting a green glow, much less that it was very close to him. The mask seemed to want to get his attention and, at the most unexpected moment, the mask took on a more rubbery texture, came to life and jumped onto his face.

"What the…?!" Thomas yelled, and this alerted Armand, who quickly rushed out of the bathroom to a scene that made him feel things. The mask slowly extended tentacles that advanced across Thomas's face.

(Thanks to @kermit43 for this edited pic)

Armand felt the urge to massage his own nipples. The grunts Thomas made, the way the mask took control of his head, the way his eyes seemed to bulge out of their sockets, and the way Thomas's body writhed under its influence was a sight that aroused feelings in him, similar as if he was watching a porn movie, so when Thomas yelled for help (a yell that turned into moans), Armand did nothing, letting the mask encircle his head.

"Fuck…" both men moaned at the same time. Thomas felt electrical pulses running through his body. It was painful, but he was enjoying it too and he didn't hide the moans from him. His body was changing little by little, it creaked every second and it was a difficult sensation to process. His arms, his legs, his abdomen. He felt like he was going to explode, and that magical feeling increased as he massaged his new formed pecs. Magic was taking over him, and it fed on his desires. A green gas billowed from the mask and covered Thomas's body, and when it dissipated, Armand had to stop himself from cumming at that moment.

The first thing the figure did was touch his ring, which caused a current to emerge from Armand's ring that affected his entire body and made him moan. Armand was salivating; the figure approached him with his smile and placed its greenish, full lips on those of Armand, who immediately reciprocated. They didn't care much how his saliva mixed and escaped from his mouth; their only interest was to be able to feel the other's lips on his. Masked Thomas's hands passed over Armand's body and, in no time at all, they were undressed. Without stopping kissing, and groping their bodies, feeling each other's warmth and with kisses that meant more than words, they stayed in bed. Armand had the perfect view of Thomas's body.

"YOUR SON HAS BEEN AN EXCELLENT STUDENT, BUT IT SEEMS TO ME THAT THE FATHER STILL REQUIRES...SPECIFIC ATTENTION" Masked Thomas said of Armand. "NOW IT'S MY TURN TO GIVE YOU A SPECIAL TOOL" his huge cock with a green glans was there, waiting to make that hole his own.

"But what about Jack…" Armand asked, staring into those hypnotic red eyes.

Masked Thomas drew a sign representing blocked sound and placed it above the door. "DONE, SO NOTHING WILL BE HEARD… WE CAN SCREAM AS MUCH AS WE WANT, SWEETHEART! AND BE THE HUSBAND AND HUSBAND WE'RE SUPPOSED TO BE…" And the couple gave free rein to their desires.

[actual-bill-potts]

and all his towers cast down makes me jumpy in the best of ways. I am not usually an AU person, much less an enjoyer of this sort of extreme canon divergence, but this one really works for me. Can you talk a little about what motivated you to write it? Have you sorted out the endgame yet? That tag How to cope when ten ppl got eaten alive in front of u is so rich in potential! Thanks very much :)

adfkldsajk thank you so much for this ask, my answer is going under a cut cuz it's gonna be LONG

first off thank you so much for your kind words, it always makes my day to hear that someone is enjoying my work!!

Second off, this AU was motivated by a variety of things. Some of my thought process is actually laid out in this post: I originally wanted to see Maglor and Lúthien girlbossing together (bc people always pit Daeron vs Maglor when Lúthien is clearly the superior singer...) and then I thought "omg I bet Maglor and Lúthien together would fuck up Angband" and then I thought I have to write this. Originally Finrod wasn't even going to play much of a role - rescuing him was just a catalyst for the plot!

But I am Finrod's #1 stan and the more I thought about his death/possible rescue, the more I realized just how much fell apart with his loss, and how cruel his death was. The guy most famous for having friends everywhere rode near-friendless to his ending and died after losing everyone who stuck with him. I decided: he deserved better, and thus the story took its current form, with one thread following Maedhros and Fingon dealing with the political fallout of the Nargothrond debacle, one thread following Beren, Luthien, and Maglor on the Silmaril Quest, and one thread following Finrod's recovery.

I have sorted out the endgame, although this fic continues to grow in scope. Originally it was going to be 10 chapters max and just feature Maglor stealing the Silmarils; now it is semi-plotted all the way through to the War of Wrath and I'm considering starting a series to fully cover all the themes I want to hit. Suffice to say this story is going to be going on for a very long time, haha.

I am proud of that tag you mentioned, because for all that Finrod wasn't initially supposed to feature that prominently in this AU, I think the tag sums up at least a third of what I want the story to be about. Finrod's story is particularly tragic to me because he loses so much of what defines him as a character in Tol-in-Gaurhoth. He's the Friend of Men, but nearly all of the Bëorians died in the Dagor Bragollach, and Finrod dies believing that he was unable to protect the one remaining descendant of Balan. He's a noted diplomat, but with one request Thingol has entirely torn apart any future hope of complete allyship/harmony between the Noldor and the Sindar. He's the King of Nargothrond, except the Nargothrondrim turned away from him. He went across the Ice for love of his cousins, but Turgon is gone and the Fëanorians betrayed him. The symbolism isn't subtle - he literally dies in the tower he built, that's been turned to evil and destruction...

So what I really want to explore in the Finrod part of this fic is: how would that have changed him, if he lived? Could he recover, from being torn apart so thoroughly? Would he want to? What would he choose to do about the whole Thingol situation, about Nargothrond, about the Union of Maedhros (should it arise)? And of course, there's one person who underwent a similar experience of being torn apart and unmade: what would Maedhros think about all of this? Would he be able to help?

Writing this story has been a true joy and a discovery, because the characters have come so fully alive in my head and I keep discovering things they would be concerned about/do/say that never occurred to me during my (minimal) outlining. For example, Beren was not initially even intended as a POV character, but he's such a fascinating kind of blank in the Lay that I felt an overwhelming curiosity about what he would have thought about in the wake of his rescue. Fingon wasn't really going to make an appearance in this fic, but then I thought - he surely helped with Maedhros' recovery, could he help with Finrod's? How would he respond to the Nargothrond debacle? And he must have been devastated to learn about Finrod's death, coming so close after he lost Angrod, Aegnor, and his father; how relieved he would be, to see Finrod at least saved! So there are many threads that emerged (and are still emerging) from this story that have been so much fun to weave into the narrative.

Thank you again for the question, and I hope you continue to enjoy the fic! <3 <3 <3

[vynegar]

hello!!! if it's okay with you could you please share what happens at the end of luke's new au card? the one where he was in the plane and the ending of it pls? thank you if ever!

he comes back from the mission safe and sound and then he and rosa live happily ever after :)

haha. as if.

skip to the last three paragraphs for the actual ending, this pretty much turned into a card summary *facepalm*

Luke and Rosa (and Kiki!) are about to graduate college, all of them studying majors that would help in the war effort. There's still a farewell dance for them, though, and Rosa still doesn't have a date. As Kiki teases her about Luke, Luke flies by in a plane as a greeting. When he comes up in-person to ask Rosa to the dance, she decides to give him a bit of a hard time by making him compete with her in codebreaking, a subject that he's worse than her in. They compete to see who can decipher a Morse code message faster, using Luke's voice recorder pen to keep time.

Even though Rosa wins, she still agrees to go with Luke since she was just teasing him. They both asked each other about their future plans in their Morse code messages. Luke also reminisces about their first time doing a mission together, when Rosa had given him a letter asking to meet him (for self-defense lessons) but Luke had gone to Aaron for advice and misunderstood it as her intending to confess. Luke admits he was a bit disappointed that it wasn't the case, but neither of them pursue the topic because they know that during such turbulent times, love isn't really something they can consider pursuing. Rosa suggests practicing self-defense again and we get the card art and Luke urging Rosa to search him for weapons when he's pinned, definitely for defense practice reasons and with no ulterior motives whatsoever ;)

They're interrupted when they're summoned by the headmaster. The enemy forces plan to set off a bomb near the school, but the bomb's location hasn't been deciphered yet. All of the school's resources and manpower are already stretched to their limits, so the headmaster assigns Luke and Rosa to the mission of deciphering the location and eliminated the threat despite them not even being officially graduated yet.

They manage to decode that the location of the time bombs is in a plane on a rooftop runway. There they get in a gunfight with the enemy but win. There aren't any pilots available to fly the bombs to a safe place to detonate them, so the task falls to Luke. Before taking off, Luke asks Rosa to keep something safe for him.

Luke says he'll tell her what it is when he comes back. Per tradition when someone undertakes a dangerous mission, Rosa also wants to say something to give him to come back safely, so she says she has something important to tell him when he returns too.

Rosa rushes to the aviation command center where she's able to remain in contact with Luke. Bullet holes from the gunfire caused the plane's fuel tank to leak, so Rosa maps out a new, shorter route for Luke to follow. Luke manages to fly to the safe zone, a bay without people around it so the bomb can detonate without harming anyone; once again, Luke and Rosa have completed their mission. However, the pilot seat is stuck, so Luke is unable to parachute out of the plane to safety; he, along with the plane and the bomb, would crash into the sea.

He tries to comfort Rosa that he's fulfilling his vow and dying a worthy death to protect the people, so don't cry. He still has something he wants to tell her, while he still has the chance. Luke studied informatics because he it was the way to make the fighting end sooner, and Rosa is the best intelligence agent he's ever seen. He's confident that she's able to help peace return to their city sooner. He hopes she can live a peaceful and happy life, and... their communication cuts out as Rosa watches the plane's signal plummet to the sea.

Afterwards, all that was found were the remains of the plane and some personal belongings of Luke, including his voice-recording pen, which he would never leave behind. Aaron gives it to Rosa, explaining that it has Luke's final message and that she should take the chance to say goodbye. The recording in it is a series of fingernail taps against the plane cabin. In Morse code, it spells out, "I love you."

The after-story is set over a year later after the fighting has subsided. The tide had carried Luke out to a fishing village where he was saved. His injuries were too severe for him to contact Rosa and the others, and ten months later, he transferred to the frontlines where he and Rosa were partners again. The box that he asked Rosa to keep safe has a pearl hairclip he intended to confess to her with after the dance. The hairclip is one that they saw while on a mission three years ago, and that Rosa was interested in. He also has two movie tickets for them after they go on a drive together. (But all the after stories for this seem pretty jarring, as if the bad ending is the actual true ending).

[bewitchingfanfiction]

Dream SMP (09/21/2023)

A flustered Tubbo hid behind some bushes as he watched the people nearby intensely.

Or rather, watched Etho intensely.

Etho and Grian were just chatting away, talking about who knows what. Tubbo was too far to make out any words.

“Tubbo you are so pathetic. Just go talk to him.” Tommy grunted from beside him, arms crossed.

The very idea of Tubbo entering anywhere close to Etho’s personal bubble made him gasp, appalled. “Are you insane!? Tom, I would actually die.”

“He’s just a person!” Tommy protested. “Just like you and me. Do you really want to be known as a guy with such little self-respect he hides in the bushes from his idol- Wil, what are you doing?”

Tubbo looked over when Tommy cut himself off, and was surprised to see Wilbur hiding in bushes as well nearby.

He looked at Tommy and Tubbo with alarm, realizing he’d been caught. “Oh, Tommy, Tubbo, fancy seeing you two here, haha…” He trailed off in a nervous laughter.

Tommy raised an eyebrow in pure judgement. “…You’re watching Grian, aren’t you?”

“Wha? Pshhh, no…” But Wilbur’s intense sweating at the accusation gave him away.

“You two are so cringe.” Tommy complained, gesturing back to Grian and Etho. “They. Are. Just. People!”

Tubbo squawked. “They are legends, Tom. They’re in the history books!”

“So are we, Tubbo.” Tommy deadpanned.

“It’s not the same!” He insisted.

Wilbur let out a heavy sigh. “Tommy, you just don’t get it. You don’t know what it’s like to have somebody you admire to hell and back.”

“I don’t know what that’s like?” Tommy stared him down with narrowed eyes. Tommy could think of plenty of people he admired to hell and back, didn’t mean he had to act like a lunatic and stalk them.

Tubbo suddenly gasped, making the other two jump. “Sorry- Etho he- he briefly moved is all.”

“Oh my-“ Tommy ran a hand over his face, shaking his head. “Nope, nope, nope, I’m not dealing with this for the entire championship. Come on, you two.” Without warning, Tommy left the bushes and stared walking straight towards Etho and Grian.

“TOM, TOM NO, TOMMY!” The two shrieked out in complete and utter horror.

But Tommy ignored them and threw on his best show smile before literally jumping into Grian and Etho’s personal space, getting in their faces. “Hi Etho, hi Grian. I’m Tommy, big man innit. See those two freaks in the bushes?” He suddenly pointed.

Wilbur and Tubbo swore they died in that moment, paralyzed by fear as their mouths fell agape and their idols stared at them.

“They both like, desperately love you two, like it’s embarrassing actually, and really, really painful. Could you please just say hi to them so they get it out of their systems and I’m not stuck listening to them fanboy for the rest of the championships?” Tommy asked all in one breath.

It was in that moment that Wilbur and Tubbo made a silent pact to murder Tommy as many times as possible during the championships.

But then Etho and Grian were smiling, and suddenly waving at them. “Hi Tubbo!” Etho called cheerfully.

“Wilbur, how’s it going!?” Grian asked enthusiastically.

And Wilbur and Tubbo just about malfunctioned in that moment, unable to say words other than what could only be described as a keyboard spam.

They didn’t even notice Tommy grabbing their wrists and dragging them over until they were stood right in front of their idols.

“I’m looking forward to the competition. I hope you’re ready!” Etho teased with a wink, grinning down at Tubbo.

“I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-“ Tubbo’s entire face flushed pink, and Tommy had to elbow him in the gut for him to finish his sentence. “I-I’m looking forward to it too.” He squeaked out in a high-pitched tone he didn’t even know he could reach.

Wilbur smiled anxiously down at Grian. “Um…Grian, I-I love your builds. I’ve followed your work for ages now and I just- it’s amazing man, you’re amazing.”

“Well shucks.” Grian rubbed the back of his head with a smile. “I’m glad to hear it. Maybe we could build something together sometime!”

Wilbur’s eyes went impossibly wide. “Build…together…as in…you and me…together…”

“Oh!” Etho looked down at his watch communicator in surprise. “Sorry to cut this short, Scott needs us. But let’s talk more later.” He stated cheerfully before turning to leave with Grian.

“Bye Wilbur, bye Tubbo, bye Tommy.” Grian waved briefly before following after Etho.

The moment the two were out of sight, Wilbur and Tubbo simultaneously collapsed.

“AYE!?” Tommy jumped in surprise, scowling. “HEY! NO, NO, NO, YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE READY FOR BATTLE NOW! OH COME ON, YOU TWO! UGHHHHH!”

Wilbur and Tubbo had to be taken to the infirmary before the championships could even officially start.

[iceiclehorned]

Blue-grey orbs scanned over the phone’s lock screen, a sense of bewilderment at just how quickly a response came in. There had always been a struggle of perception with her, a constant glow of hesitancy as her slender fingers unlock her phone. After the first text message rolls in, the second would follow, that being the very note to send her brain to a shockwave. Heart rate spiking, a thrill swimming through her veins.

It was him?

Giddiness thumped throughout her body, igniting a chain reaction. Kicking her feet, there would be a hug of her mobile device, followed by senseless giggling. Despite being an adult, these feelings of teenage infatuation were truly star striking.

‘Did you sleep well last night?’

What kind of text is that? Would he find it corny? A little ridiculous? Little by little, she would allow herself to focus on the secondary text message, biting her bottom lip with as her cheeks flush. Dumbfounded and unable to piece together the words clearly written on the screen. Distracted by his texts, the morning of her day off would be spent fixating on enjoying this exploration, a new adventure for her to look forward to in day to day life!

‘It… is? Are you serious?’

Within the developments made by asking questions, there would be a reward within sight for the young Kamisato. Sliding her naked body across her bed, she would await any responses, intrigued by the person on the other end. There was a slight skepticism etched into her brain, because, who wouldn’t claim to be THE one and only Itto from the rockstar band Menace?

‘A new album? Really? I haven’t heard of any announcements about it.’

Switching her phone off from the side, she would lay her head against soft, firm pillows. His words would make immense sense, but if he was in the midst of creating something new, wouldn’t he want that blatantly obvious to his fans? Then again, his band was not like any others she had come across in her time. It held a sweet uniqueness that has drilled itself in deep, and it would be something to treasure and enjoy. The mere fantasy of talking to the real Oni behind it all was a heartfelt dream, even if her enthralment was recent. Getting up from her bed, she would place on her usual businesslike attire, starring her favourite pencil skirt and Louboutin heels, frantically skipping down the hallway with a painful stomach rumble.

Switching her device back on as she paced herself, there would be a glint in her eye, throwing her body into a spare, empty room once she saw a photo had been sent. Upon opening it, there would be a responsive delay. He was so fucking hot? How on this planet— no, no! Ayaka needed to focus, and seeing the sculpted God before her was certainly not helping. A teasing reply would be typed out, staring at the text in the box, losing the debate to send it. An attempt to delete the passage would be made, only for her to send it instead.

She would twist around with the humiliation.

‘Can I save that?’

‘Wait, sorry. I didn’t mean to send that haha.’

‘Do you, perhaps… want one of me, too?’

A sly smile works its way onto her face. FLIRTING was way outside of her skillset, but damned it if she wasn’t going to try and capture this singer’s attention with every fibre of her being to boot! If she had already buried herself, she would follow it through to completion.

Presenting confidence over text was much easier than in person, that was for sure. Fortunately, he would hold no awareness of her nerves were flourishing with a heat of desire.

‘Are you trying to encourage me to go, Itto? I will if you give me a good reason to.’

Was the firm, serious-minded woman really flirting with a celebrity over the phone? A possibility she had not anticipated to come to light from her sleepy state, but there would be a gratefulness for that bolder disposition held once business thorns wrapped around her intent. Physically, however? Ayaka was as red faced as a tomato, with every part of her being shaking.

He'd likely agree with her on that point, morning air was nice, especially after being in a stuffy hotel room, or at an inn or something after a show. Not that he'd know what she was thinking or anything along those lines. Though, the Oni also knew how it was to rush things, not that he'd EVER rush his hair, oh no, that was combed meticulously, and then treated with his coconut oil based hair care product. All natural was the way he tended to his wild locks. Nothing less than that would ever be okay with him.

Another thing they had in common was the constant stream of people wishing to date them, or take them out. Though, as he was a singer for a rock band, and she was a business woman, those seeking his attention were often fans. Just ones that were at shows, waiting to meet him, or wanting to talk to him. Since his band wasn't huge, they tended to stay in Inazuma for the most part. All of them graduated from the same college that Ayaka's brother had attended, though she wouldn't know that, nor would he, for that matter. Her account was fairly anonymous - all things considered, his was him though his surname was exempt from anything it was merely 'Itto' on the social media site itself.

He rejected a lot of people in his time, not feeling good like dating someone or going out with someone once, it was odd, given that some of the band members jumped at the chance to go on dates, or hang out with people, where the singer? He just hung out in the bus, in his room, likely on his phone or his laptop.

Sunset eyes would open back up as his phone vibrated in his hand, a notification coming in from the person who had messaged him earlier. His lips would twist into a slight grin.

He'd been able to tell that the other was someone who wasn't really experienced with speaking to celebrities, which was fine, it wasn't a bad thing. After all, not everyone could FIND him so whoever it was on the other side of that account was someone who had done their homework. Or, perhaps some sort of stalker - but he wasn't thinking of that at the moment. Nope. Whoever it was had most certainly piqued his interest and the more messages he got from them, the more intrigued he got.

He could only wonder how the poor fan would react to knowing that they were legitimately talking to him, not someone managing his social media account? Each of the band members had their own, they also had alternates that were, in fact, written by them - all connected to the band's main account. Should she have taken the time to read the posts made on that account she'd likely be able to tell that it was the same person behind the singer's one connected there, but it was doubtful she'd dug quite that far.

'Hey now, nothing's wrong with that. I could tell you were pretty tired. I get that, trust me.'

As he waited for the next message to come through he'd hum one of their songs to himself. as he read the words he'd chuckle.

'Nope. No manager here, this is literally Itto.'

He'd obviously wait for the question of proof, and he'd have no issue proving that he was, in fact, himself. As more and more messages came through his interest grew. Just who was the other person? He wanted to know but at the same time he wasn't sure it was a good idea to hit on someone online. Not that it'd stopped her - which was amusing, of course he wasn't aware that it was a woman on the other side just yet.

'Well, thanks, I actually wrote most of the songs myself. Been working on a new album actually.'

He'd snort as she sent the thing about his body. That was far from a first. Though a lot of people assumed his abs were airbrushed on. But he was real. Those were one-hundred percent all him. As her 'just kidding' came in he'd laugh briefly, it seemed that he was able to discern that it was, in fact a woman now. No guy would try a cover up like that.

'I'll have you know my abs are real. Just in case you weren't thinking they were my horns are ALSO real. As a sign of good faith, that I am me, here's proof.'

He took the time to send her an image, the one he'd taken earlier, in fact.

He'd take the time to peek at the account and notice that it was in the city his band was heading to, so his next response would be typed out with a fairly large grin upon his face. Not that she could see it.

'So I took a peek at your account, you apparently live in the city my band, and I are on the way to for our next few shows.'

They still still about nine hours out but that didn't matter. It would be more like eleven with them stopping for gas, and food, though. Which was fine that meant they'd be arriving more toward the evening. It was likely through another person she happened to know that she discovered the Oni's personal account from. The posts were sporadic, and very clearly not made by a manager. Had she not been deliriously tired when she discovered it she might have taken that into account.

When a social media account was run by a manager, they had mostly 'come to the show' and 'buy our merch' links, but his account was just pictures of him, the band, their bus, and some of the crowds they'd gotten at various shows with the locations noted on the images. They were often reposted onto their band account by himself or others.