#we know there is more to it because for some reason Angel is fine with Kenjaku possessing people only the merger is going too far
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possiblyreallyme · 3 days ago
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Oooo headcannon’s…If possible can we get Ace with a reader who’s fire resistant due to a devil fruit?
Hello!!! I love love love receiving your asks! i'm so sorry this took so long, i finished writing it at the start of november but it got deleted when i went to post it😭
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He is a silly goose at heart, and if you're his friend, you'll need to be ready for a few pranks once he finds out about your fire-resistance. For example, setting you ablaze when meeting strangers because their reactions are priceless, or annoying you with little fire-punches that have flames licking at your cheeks when sat next to each other at dinner (his fist never actually came in contact with your skin— he's not that stupid), or anything else he can come up with.
Also, expect a lot of testing. Like, constantly bothering you and begging you to be a guinea pig for the new move he's been wanting to try, or seeing how hot he can make his flames by slowly trying to burn your palm, things like that. Of course he'd be careful if you were unsure of it, but he would trust you enough to be 100% confident that you'd be fine if you told him that there was no way he could burn you.
If he had a crush on you though, he's a little bit more careful. Yes, he knows that you won't get burned no matter what, but with the added complexity of having feelings for you, he doesn't really want to risk anything. That doesn't mean he won't show off though, because trust me, he loves to do that.
He'll create firework shows just for you, or come up with excuses to use his powers whenever he can— including warming you up by making himself a human bonfire.
Now, if you're his lover, the whole game changes.
If you were a badass, cool, tough kinda babe, he has little issue with creating small flames in the palm of his hand and letting you play around with them, but that's about where he draws the line before he gets too worried. If you were the sweet, kind, shy type however, I don't think he'd be able to bring his flames anywhere near your skin.
He'd be WAYYYYY too paranoid to set his sweetheart on fire— what if he burned you?? What if your devil fruit powers worked differently then you thought???? WHAT IF YOU HATED HIM AFTERWARDS????
"Ace, come on, stop being a party pooper!" You whine, wanting to test out your abilities. And what better way to do so then with your fire-fist boyfriend? "Babydoll, I'm not gonna set you on fire..." He murmured uneasily, as if the thought made his skin crawl. "Fun hater😒" "Love you too, angel-face!😚"
For afab readers, he most definitely works as your full-time heating pad when you're on your period.
It wasn't even your idea— he just asked Marco how to ease your cramps (tearfully, might I add, mans was terrified for you), and he just about jumped with joy when he found out that heat makes it better, skipping back to your cabin to fulfill his God-given duty, which was cradling you like a baby to his chest and heating your back and stomach.
NSFW HEADCANONS BELOW! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!
While on the topic of periods, hear me out: heated period sex.
My man loves him so good period sex, especially if you let him act as an internal heating pad by warming his cock. He'll keep his large hand on your stomach to feel the bulge of his cock and heat up his palm to ease your cramps, whispering sweet praises into your ears while he keeps himself to the hilt, letting you adjust to his large size while he himself tried not to cry out in bliss.
Mess? What mess? You think the Fire Fist Ace is afraid of some blood? Honey, we have towels for a reason, don't even worry about it.
100% into temperature play, but again, only uses real fire if you're the tougher type or you beg. Though you'll never forget that one time he teased your nipples with a flame on the tip of his tongue...
In summery: Ace is a complicated guy, so your personality and role definitely change his opinions a lot (sorry if the way i'm writing it is annoying tho).
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cursedvibes · 10 months ago
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Most genius and also successful plan in the entire series. Angel should get more recognition for being the reason (together with Takaba) that the protagonists managed to get rid of the main villain.
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oveliagirlhaditright · 2 years ago
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I'm still so upset that Buffy and Connor never met in the Buffy the Vampire Slayer season 8-12 comics/the Angel & Faith comics.
Especially since we know that Buffy knew about Connor in them. What is this madness?
I feel like part of this is because of Buffy and Angel stupidly having to be kept apart again for most of their stories. Because we haven't already told that story before. But more than that, because Connor weirdly wasn't in the story that much? Even though you really think he would have been?
But if nothing else, they could have had Buffy and Connor at this party together at the very end of the entire series, where everyone else was (Gunn, too).
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Or they could have had some throwaway line somewhere, that mentioned that Buffy and Connor had already met some point offscreen.
Just give us something, man, if these comics are going to have Buffy know about Connor (which she so totally should, I mean). You know they'd get along famously.
I guess this is what fanfic is for, of course. But I feel like we were so close, yet so far away to getting them to interact with the comics, maybe. JUST WHY COULDN'T THEY HAVE GIVEN US A BUFFY AND CONNOR INTERACTION THERE?
Maybe they would have if we'd had a longer season twelve, or gone on longer than twelve seasons... probably.
#buffy the vampire slayer#angel the series#buffy summers#connor#buffy and connor#buffy comics#angel & faith comics#silly decisions#or they just forgot. which makes me sad. but connor is mentioned in s12 so you'd think if they're mentioning connor in s12 and of course#writing buffy in s12 the thought would have popped into someone's head of 'hey! we still haven't had connor and buffy meet yet! maybe we#should do that!'#but if it had s12 was a rushed four comics so they probably didn't have time for it#even though i stand by my idea that buffy and connor both could have been at this barbecue at the end. and i would have been more than fine#with us just getting that#also sorry that the barbecue pic i used has spike cut off (and even the top of the banner cut off) for some reason the site i used to use#to get s12 scans doesn't have s12 anymore#and other sites i've tried to use makes my laptop freak out and act like i'm going to get viruses from there. so i really don't want to use#them. i got the pic from a video the buffyngton post on youtube did on s12 and that's how he had it in the video#i think because he was starting to use effects with it (like to zoom in and stuff) -shrugs-#also... i know it shouldn't at all... but in some ways this picture makes me sad. like the scoobies ARE angel's friends of course#and faith most certainly is#but angel just lost fred/illyria so of course she isn't in the picture with them (she/they were the only casualty the group had)#and once again angel has lost one of his friends. this man just always loses his friends#and none of his new friends from london are pictured here: nadira lavinia sophronia or even koh (or connor or gunn)#(or lorne. but i guess there's an explanation as to why he's not in the buffy and angel comics for a reason i don't know because i haven't#read the lorne comic yet?)#and. i mean. granted i feel like angel wasn't THAT close to them#but it just maybe shows that sometimes i really feel like the buffy writers didn't care about angel or the angel storyline as much#and all of those storylines definitely didn't get wrapped up here#i know they really probably couldn't have because it's a miracle we got these plotlines wrapped up in four issues when dark horse found out
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frmisnow · 3 months ago
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ONCE AGAIN, MILAN ! - (nsfw)
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summary. what happens when you and jungkook find yourselves once again in milan, this time with no business attached — well a hol' lotta sex for sure!
notes. guysss i changed my mind! there will be a fifth chapter because there is something that i want them to do- a refrence to chp. 2 + they need to get lil cheonsa duh?? ✶𝄞 if y'all are currently reading this, i'm probs already on vacation! so it'll take a minute, regardless, i hope everybody enjoys!!
warnings/includes. non idol! ceo! jungkook x f! employee! reader, smut described/implied multiple times!! (morning sex, very slight voyeurism / heavy flirting in a boutique, NASTY dirty talk) , drabble-ish (idk i just want them to be happy), cheonsa mention (we cheered)
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the morning had begun in the best way possible. the bright italian sun on your face, the hotel sheets lightly crumpled, well- and jungkook.
jungkook who had woken you up with gentle kisses starting from your face, moving to your shoulder, all the way to your tits. kissed your sore little thighs too, because "they deserved it" after all the things they've gone through - sure.
he made love to you. moaned how beautiful you were along with some other sweet dirty nothings.
it was the kind of sex that made you feel cherished, worshipped even, as if all of his love was burried solely in his tip and he poured all of it into you, when you both came.
after spending what felt like hours wrapped up in each other, you had finally left the bed, your body still tingling from the morning’s activities. the first spot was a cat café, jungkook had read about it somewhere, thinking of you.
you both had spent a few hours in there, sipping on your respective lattes, playing with the little cats while their tiny paws brush against your legs. jungkook had his polaroid camera out at all times, clicking away.
showed the photos to you, told you how cute you looked, how the kitten in your lap looked just like you. how you both should get little cheonsa just like that.
closely after, you both took your time strolling through the streets, hands intertwined, ending with him pushing you into a high-end boutique. you smiled at his eagerness, it wasn't the first time he spend that black card of his on you.
jungkook handed you a dress, that reminded more of a whisper of fabric rather then a real garment, leaving little to the imagination. but you instantly nodded, that's what you liked about being with him; you didn't feel shy, there was no reason to. not with every single thing jungkook has said about your body this far.
the fitting rooms were large, they felt like rooms by themselves. jungkook sat outside patentily, tapping his legs. when you walked out you could clearly see him trying his absolute best not to reach out his hands, his pupils widening ever so slightly, taking a deep breath to compose himself, "turn around, angel, for me."
you did as he said when done, walking over to take a seat on his thigh while his fingers immediately moved to stroke your thighs, mumbling how pretty you were.
the way you were sitting, so close to him, he could make out your pretty panties peeking under the dress. black lace, with little bows he had gifted to you when you visited that lingerie place a few days ago, thinking of you in that store didn't make his growing buldge any better.
and you most certaintly made it even worse by whispering into his ear, how much you needed him and how wet you've been ever since this morning.
he bit his lip, your body was so painfully close and your skirt only rode up, gently pinching your thigh almost as a light warning, "remember where we are"
following you made a little pout, but mumbled a reluctant 'fine' anyway, making your way back into the fitting room.
next stop was a restaurant, you hadn't even noticed that it had gotten late by this time but jungkook took care of it, as always. how he managed to get a reservation at this place, you didn't quite know but you certaintly weren't complaining. he had pulled your leg over his some time ago, running his hands over the skin, the action innoccent in a way caring, like he was so sorry that you had to walk this whole day even though he had spoiled you shamelessly.
his fingers drew patterns and tiny circles over the skin, his face glowing from what was left of the sun through the large windows.
"i'm so happy" you smile, your fingers moving through his hair lightly.
jungkook's lips curl into a soft smile, just like yours, leaning into your touch, "i'm happy too, angel" his voice low and affectionate, "everday"
the evening went exeptionelly well, he talked you stupid about some of the other things he wanted to do, didn't mention business even once.
you both walked back to the hotel, you liked the city at night and had asked him to walk instead of taking a taxi. he didn't let go of your hand, swinging.
he walked back to the hotel with you, holding your hand tightly, it had been your wish to stroll back, you liked the city at night. it all reminded you of that night but it was different this time, it felt good not having wine in your system.
for once you felt like you actually could love jungkook, without alcohol, without your job, any other factor in your way. you could fuck him freely without having to blame the alcohol for it, after.
love is lust. that's why he pounds you into the large matress, tells you how bad you've been, how greedy you were.
he asked questions, dirty ones, you were way to brain fucked to understand dare to say even answer.
asks how much you'd like it, him filling you up everywhere, in the bathrooms, around his apartment, in the elevator, during your shifts at work, how he'd make you walk around feeling full, feeling dripping and sticky under your skirt.
describes how he'd call you into his office just so he could take you nicely on his desk. have you walk out later, nod to all your colleagues, like a good girl.
you barerly hear him and the words make you moan out are vile things that people only say when they are about to come. how you wanted to marry him, have him around you all times, how much you wanted him every minute.
you thought about how small you'd want the wedding to be, you, him and little kitten cheonsa. and you moan again, like a porn star.
and he responds, gripping your hips tighter, "i'd marry you tomorrow if you asked me to, hell i'd make a baby with you right this second if you wanted."
he let out a grunted string of 'please's though you weren't even sure what he was begging you for. your brain felt so incredibly mushy.
few seconds later, he filled you up, making a mess of you. he instantly reached out to touch your chin gently to look at you, "you okay, princess?"
you managed to nod but he shock his head, "words, i need to hear you, angel" it was a soft order, one you couldn't look away from.
so you reassure him that you are happy and so content, he seems to like your words, smiling. lifting you up and maneuvering you on top of him, still inside of you. his fingers trace over your bare back soothingly as he lights a cigarette with his other hand, just like that night.
and you smiled to yourself because you knew. you knew that this time when you woke up, you wouldn't have to leave, you would be able to look at his sleeping smile as long as you wanted. it was a comforting thought.
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— cheonsa means angel.
🍓 tag list — @chansloverr , @marimarvelfan , @bxcndd , @1-in-abillion , @ahgasegotarmy116 , @copycat-namjesus , @malkaimoon , @geminiml95 , @taiwan0618 , @jungkookfics , @rrosiitas , @stuti2904 , @spiderlilyserendipity , @m00njinnie , @ririkookiemonster , @emptynessclub , @yoongznme , @snow-strawberry , @ttanniett
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clarionglass · 6 months ago
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here we go :) part one of three, updates to be released weekly!
---
sam says 4 (game master cinematic universe, part 3)
Ruby was at her mum's for a family dinner she couldn't miss on pain of death, apparently, and the Doctor was many things, but a family dinner kind of guy wasn't one of them—particularly when Carla had already slapped him once in the short time he'd known her. He thought he'd broken his streak of bad luck with mums, but… well, seemingly not. So he was companionless for a few hours, and while he could wait for her to get back, maybe catch up on his reading—what was the point of waiting when you had a time machine? 
He ran his hands over the TARDIS console, marvelling at her clean lines and metallic flourishes, the way that even now she felt brand new but familiar, and paused. He’d just pop off for a quick adventure, nothing too dangerous, but—where to go?
He could scan for a distress call nearby, and pitch in to help. He could drop in on Donna and Shaun and Rose, beautiful Rose, and see how they were all doing. Or he could just hit the randomiser button, and jump in feet first wherever he ended up.
He remembered a conversation from a long time ago, when he wore a different face, and his gorgeous TARDIS wore a face too, for the first and only time.
“You didn't always take me where I wanted to go.”
“No, but I always took you where you needed to go.”
He grinned. Who could resist an offer like that? He pressed the button and whooped as the time rotor spun into action, ready to see where the universe would take him.
---
Apparently, he was needed pretty close to where he already was. Earth, 2024. Huh. Same planet, same time—within a few months of where he’d left Ruby, even. The main thing that had changed was the location: he was now in the good old US of A. California, to be more specific, and Los Angeles to be more specific still. And to really narrow it down, the Doctor discovered as he poked his head out of the TARDIS doors, he was in… a broom closet. Not bad, as a parking spot—a bit squeezy, but out of the way. And as he poked his head out of that door, he could finally see he was in the backstage corridors of a studio of some kind. Film or TV, if he was to hazard a guess, it was a different vibe from Abbey Road.
With a shrug, he decided to go exploring.
It couldn’t have been more than a minute before a young woman wearing the full-black outfit, headset, and permanently stressed expression of a production assistant came running up to him.
“Are you the fill-in Sam organised?” she asked breathlessly, and honestly, seeing the look on her face, the Doctor didn’t have the heart(s) to tell her no. And really, what was the Doctor, if not a professional fill-in? This, this was why he had a randomiser button on the control panel, because whatever he was about to get himself into was going to be fun.
“Sure!”
“Oh, thank god,” sighed the production assistant, relief dawning across her face. “When Ally tested positive this morning, I thought we were sunk for the record, because we called around and we couldn’t get a hold of anyone. But then Sam said he could get someone in, and, you know, here you are, and just in time, so—ah, yeah, if you could follow me this way?”
Smiling all the way, the Doctor followed his guide through to hair and makeup, looking around as they went. The studio seemed to belong to a company called Dropout, according to the branding scattered around, and things seemed, at least on the surface, to be… well. Fine. He couldn't tell why he'd been brought here yet, which meant that when he found the reason, it was going to be particularly tangled. He couldn't wait! 
And then he looked back at his guide, still engulfed in a miasma of anxiety, and realised he'd been too busy looking for clues to notice the person right in front of him. 
“Hey, it's cool, you've found me,” he started with a gentle smile. “You can relax. Hi, I'm the Doctor. What's your name?”
“Oh!” she said, startled. “The Doctor, yeah, of course. Um, hi, I'm Kaylin. Look, sorry, it's just that I've been so busy this morning, I'm so distracted… Shit, and I would've completely forgotten to get your details too. There's paperwork to fill in, but you can do that later. Um, just for now, though, can I get your pronouns?”
The Doctor thought for a moment. “He/him, for now.”
Kaylin nodded, making a note on her phone. “Okay, cool! And do you have any socials?”
“Not me, babes,” he replied. “I'm hardly sitting down long enough to be able to update, you know?”
“On a day like this, I know exactly what you mean,” she said. “That's okay, Lou didn't have socials either for the longest time. Right, so if you go through there, the team will get you sorted, and once you're done, someone will take you up to the greenroom. All good?”
“All great,” the Doctor replied. Kaylin flashed him a quick, relieved smile, then hurried off.
Hair and makeup was a fairly quick process, the sound mixer fitted him with a microphone, and before too long, Kaylin was back to take him upstairs. 
“This is the greenroom,” she said, pushing the door open. “The rest of the cast for the episode are already here—they’re great guys, and they’ve both been on the show a lot, so they’ll be able to help if you’ve got questions. And if you need anything else, just come find me or any of the other PAs, okay?”
The Doctor nodded, beamed at Kaylin, and walked in.
---
The greenroom was small but comfortable, and its occupants, two men around the same age as the Doctor appeared, looked up as he entered.
“Oh, you’re new,” the taller of the pair said, clearly giving him the once-over.
The other sighed with a mixture of fondness and exasperation, just as clearly used to his friend’s antics.
“Hey, I’m Brennan,” he said, levering himself up to standing from his perch on a chair arm, and holding out a hand. “That’s Grant.”
The Doctor took it warmly. “The Doctor. Just passing through, and happy to help.”
Grant’s eyebrows quirked. “Doctor… something?” he prompted.
“Or is it just ‘the Doctor’?” Brennan asked.
“Just ‘the Doctor’,” the Time Lord confirmed cheerfully. “You’ll get used to it, everyone does.”
Grant didn’t look convinced, but—
“Copy that,” Brennan shrugged, and settled back on the arm of the chair, returning his gaze to the door.
Grant, in turn, looked at the Doctor and rolled his eyes in a clear expression of ‘no, I don’t know why he’s like this, either’.
“Okay,” the Doctor said after a moment of watching the watching. “I wasn’t going to ask, but now I think I have to. What’s up with the door?”
Brennan huffed a laugh. “Well, the last time there was one of those up—” he pointed to the Out of Order sign stuck to the bathroom door, “—we got locked in here for the game.”
“He’s paranoid,” Grant interjected.
“Well, yeah, maybe,” Brennan retorted. “Or just cautious. Because Sam’s been acting weird lately, and we’re coming up to the last few records of the season, so he’s probably planning something way out of the box for the finale. And the original cast was you, me and Beardsley, so…”
He shrugged one shoulder meaningfully, and Grant nodded, conceding both the point and the potential for chaos.
“So if Sam comes in to give us the briefing, rather than waiting til we’re on set,” Brennan continued, “or there’s anything else weird going on, I’m gonna know about it right from the beginning.”
He turned to the Doctor. “The only reason I'm not quizzing you is because I know for a fact Beardsley was genuinely scheduled for this, so you can't be a plant by the production team. No offence.”
“None taken,” the Doctor smiled. “That sort of thing happen often, does it?”
Grant and Brennan exchanged a look. 
“More than you'd think,” Grant answered with a grimace. 
“Alright,” the Doctor said slowly, then brightened. “So what is it we're actually doing?”
Grant gave him a disbelieving glance. “You don't know—?”
“Very last minute fill-in,” the Doctor said breezily. “But don't worry, I'm a quick study.”
“Well, you're not that much worse off than the rest of us,” Brennan said encouragingly. “You know about Game Changer, obviously, if you know Sam, and we only find out the rules of the game once we get on set. Hopefully,” he added, with a dark look back at the Out of Order sign. 
The Doctor nodded. No, he didn't know Sam, and he didn't know Game Changer, but he could work out the situation from context clues. This was a game show. And with the Toymaker banished, and Satellite Five not coming into existence for another 198000 years, give or take, he found himself smiling. Maybe third time would be the charm. 
“Mmm, hopefully they aren't going to throw you in the deep end,” Grant said. “Because Brennan might seem lovely now, but as soon as we get out there, he's a whore for points. He'll stab you in the back and won't even blink.”
Brennan barked with laughter. “Yeah, and you wouldn't?”
“Excuse you, I'm always a goddamn delight,” Grant replied, the very picture of injured dignity. 
“Oh, absolutely!” agreed a new voice. The Doctor turned to the now-open door to see a bearded man in a pinstriped suit smiling broadly. “That's why we keep inviting you back!”
Grant bowed sarcastically. “Why, thank you, Sam. Good to know I'm appreciated by someone here.”
“Always,” Sam replied, gently but firmly ending that particular path of the conversation. He scanned the room, and his eyes lit up when they landed on the Doctor. 
“Ah, you must be the Doctor!” he said with obvious delight, walking over with his hand outstretched. “I'm Sam—thanks for filling in for us, you've made sure we're going to have a good show. Seriously, it's a pleasure to have you here.”
“Aw, cheers!” the Doctor smiled, shaking the offered hand. “Glad I could help out, I'm really looking forward to this!”
“Well, great!” Sam exclaimed, then took a step back, regarding all three players in turn. “Now, folks, I'm just letting you know that we're just about ready to start the record, so if you can start heading down, that'd be great.”
Grant and Brennan nodded—Brennan, the Doctor noticed, with relief. 
“See you down there,” Sam said, smiling. “Have a great show, and—”
His eyes caught on the Doctor's for a second, twinkling. 
“Good luck.”
---
Backstage, the Doctor, Brennan and Grant were marshalled into podium order and given a final briefing from the crew. And then, with a thumbs-up from Kaylin, that was it.
Showtime.
“Get ready for a Game Changer!” came Sam's voice from onstage. “Tonight’s guests: he can shoot off a monologue with laser accuracy; it’s Brennan Lee Mulligan!”
Brennan, his back to the camera as the curtains opened, spun on his heel and, with a stone-cold expression, pointed finger guns straight down the barrel, before letting the facade crack open. “Hi!” he exclaimed, and walked over to the leftmost podium.
“It’s his first appearance, but he’s already on fire; it’s the Doctor!”
The Doctor leant against the archway to the stage and flashed a broad smile towards the camera, then in a few skipping steps, had bounded over to the next free podium. What the hell, why not make an entrance?
“And even in the toughest of mazes, you’ll always be able to find him; it’s Grant O’Brien!”
Grant dipped his lanky frame into an approximation of a curtsey, spreading his arms wide, then sauntered over to the closest podium with a grin.
“And your host, me!” Sam announced, a ring of manic white showing around his irises as he beamed down the barrel of the camera. “I’ve been here the whole time!”
“This,” he continued, pushing his microphone shut and stowing it in his jacket pocket, “is Game Changer, the only game show where the game changes every show. I am your host, Sam Reich!” 
As he said his name, he looked at his hands, front and back, as if he was pleasantly surprised to be himself, then gestured towards the three podiums.
“I am joined today by these three lovely contestants! Now, you understand how the game works.”
“Of course not,” Grant started. “You know we don't.”
“We can't, Sam, that's the whole point of the theatre you've set up here,” Brennan said over him. 
“Not yet,” was all the Doctor said, anticipation starting to drum a tattoo of excitement against the inside of his ribcage. 
“That’s right!” Sam said brightly, shooting finger guns at the camera. “Our players have no idea what game it is they’re about to play. The only way to learn is by playing. The only way to win is by learning, and the only way to begin is by beginning! So without further ado, let’s begin by giving each of our players fifty points.”
The Doctor, biding his time, watched the reactions of his fellow contestants. Grant looked at the front of his podium, checking the point total, and nodding approvingly when he saw that yes, it was sitting at a round fifty. Brennan, on the other hand, was starting to frown.
“Players, Sam says: touch your nose,” Sam began, and Brennan sighed the sigh of someone who wasn’t happy to be proved right.
“Oh, no,” he groaned. “Oh, you son of a bitch. Wasn’t one this season enough?”
He touched his nose anyway, as did the others, and Sam smiled encouragingly. “Sam says: touch your ear.”
When they all did, Sam nodded. “Touch your other ear.”
Everybody held still, fingers on the ears they had originally touched.
Sam beamed. “Easy, players, right?”
“You say that now,” Brennan said darkly. “Which makes it worse, because all you're doing is setting us up for failure.”
Sam gasped, pretending offence. “Would I do that?”
“Yes,” Brennan and Grant replied in unison, which drew a grin from the Doctor and set Sam off chuckling.
“And I'm not having it,” Brennan continued, leaning his elbows against his podium and pointing at Sam with the hand not touching his ear. “You better watch yourself, because I know how this game works, and you're not going to get one over on me.”
“Strong words, Brennan!” Sam said, clearly delighted by this response. “Okay, then, let's start making things a bit more interesting!”
The game continued as per Sam Says usual, some rounds done as a group and some individual. Points were won, sure, but lost slightly more frequently, and even the Doctor found he was having to concentrate to avoid getting caught in the host's traps. 
It was fun. Genuinely, it was like playing a game with friends, and the Doctor felt himself leaning into it. There wasn't any sign of danger—maybe there wasn't a mystery to solve at all, and the TARDIS just decided he needed a total break. 
Well, probably not. But the way things were going, he was able to let himself hope. 
“Alright, players,” Sam said a good few rounds in, just as pleasantly as he would start any other question, and the screen behind him dinged as a new prompt popped up. “Survive the death beam.”
For a second, everything was frozen perfectly still. 
And then came the crash, the explosive noise of heavy machinery moving relentlessly through a drywall set.
The Doctor was already moving. “Everyone down!”
“Duck!” Brennan yelled at the same time.
The two of them hit the ground within milliseconds of each other, but Grant was still paralysed in the face of the giant, science-fiction type laser cannon that had just ploughed through the wall. 
It whined ominously, screaming its way to fever pitch. And then a sharp pain in Grant’s ankle made him stagger, pitching forwards onto the carpet behind the podiums as the Doctor rolled away to avoid getting pinned.
“Sorry, babes,” the Doctor whispered. “But it was either kick you to get you down, or—”
A hideous metallic screech ripped through the air, and all three of them could feel the crackle of ozone as a beam of energy swept across what had, moments ago, been neck height.
“…Or that,” the Doctor finished with a grimace.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Grant breathed, suddenly very conscious of every inch of his 6’9 frame. “Thanks.”
“Well done, players!” Sam exclaimed delightedly from above them. “But… sorry, I didn’t say ‘Sam says’, so that’s a point off for everyone.”
“What the fuck!” Brennan snapped.
“Are you actually insane?” Grant demanded at the same time, his voice overlapping with Brennan’s.
In response, Sam just wheezed with laughter. “You can come back to your podiums,” he said, cheerfully ignoring them.
Nobody moved.
“Very good!” he acknowledged, and even without seeing his face, the grin was obvious in his voice. “Okay, Sam says: come back to your podiums.”
Although the words were innocuous, and his tone was just as light and breezy as usual, there was nevertheless an edge hiding just underneath the surface. And while the death beam loomed large in the minds of all three players, it was impossible to consider disobedience as an option.
Slowly, they stood, returning to their places. Now they had the time to look at it properly, the death beam was even more sinister, and Brennan and Grant both kept flicking nervous glances its way, ready to move if it looked like it was charging up again.
The Doctor, however, was focused purely on the man standing in front of them. Unbothered, Sam met his gaze like a challenge, a mischievous smile playing about his lips.
“Oh, you’ll love this one,” he said, and the screen changed. “Sam says, starting with Grant: say my name.”
Grant frowned in confusion, but answered quickly nonetheless. “Sam Reich?”
The man himself shrugged tolerantly, moving on. “Brennan?”
Brennan just stared at him coolly. “Do you take me for a fool?”
“Well caught, Brennan!” Sam said happily. “Sam says: say my name.”
“Sam,” Brennan replied, suspicion clear in his voice. “Samuel Dalton Reich.”
He nodded, still with a hint of indifference. “And lastly, Doctor.” His smile broadened. “Sam says: say my name.”
It was easy. Too easy. And as the Doctor looked into the eyes of the man calling himself Sam Reich, he felt his hearts stutter in recognition, because something had changed. He wasn’t hiding himself anymore, and while the face was different yet again, the Doctor would know the shape of that soul anywhere. It was impossible. It was inevitable.
“You can’t be,” he breathed. 
Sam smirked, leaning in across his podium. “Oh, but Doctor… I’ve been here the whole time,” he stage-whispered with a wink.
“He said you lost,” the Doctor said, shaking his head, looking wrong-footed for the first time that Brennan and Grant could recall. “You lost, and he trapped you.”
The other two watched, uncomprehending, but Sam just smiled, drumming his fingers against the podium with an audible beat, fast but distinct. Four taps, four taps, four taps. “I’m waiting.”
The Doctor took a slow, deep breath. Set his jaw. 
“Master.”
---
missed an installment of the game master cinematic universe?
original idea by @ace-whovian-neuroscientist: x
art by @northernfireart concept: x scissor sisters sketch: x sam and his doppelganger: x
writing by me (!) part one (escape the greenroom): x part two (deja vu): x part three (sam says 4): you are here!
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moonstruckme · 27 days ago
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Hi Mae since u said u would be willing to do an ED reader here's a lil idea for James or tasm Peter but them with a gf who had a really bad ED before they met (he doesn't know) and she starts to relapse and he thinks she's just too stressed to eat or something (idk u can pick how the topic comes up) and just her telling him and him comforting her (this is a bit self indulgent bc idk how to tell anyone I'm dating that I'm struggling)
Hi lovely, thank you for your request!
cw: discussion and depiction of eating disorder, anxiety
James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 916 words
You don’t seem much up for talking at dinnertime. Which is fine. James can talk for the both of you. 
He prattles on about Sirius’ one-way rivalry with the temp at his work while you cast him half-hearted, flickering smiles and push your food around your plate. He’s made sesame tofu, a first for James but he thought it turned out all right. His plate is clean, whereas yours is all mixed up but he’s fairly sure you’ve only eaten a couple of green beans. 
You don’t appear to notice when he finishes his story. Your fork seems almost limp in your hand. 
“If you don’t like it,” James says lightly, “I don’t mind making you something else, lovely.” 
You look surprised, then guilty. “No, sorry, it’s good.” 
It’s not like you would know, but James isn’t cruel enough to point that out. Aside from his own ego, he has other reasons to suspect his cooking has little to do with this. 
You’ve been strung up tight, lately. There’s a lot going on at work, some conflict with your boss you don’t really want to talk about, and drama in your family you want to talk about even less. James has tried to make home as comfortable and easy for you as he can, but understandably you’ve grown withdrawn, seemingly exhausted all day long. He wishes he knew how to do more for you. Wishes he could cast a bubble of pure goodness to put you inside so the only things that could get to you were the lovely things you deserve. 
“I know you’re stressed,” he says, gently as he can, “but you’ve got to eat, you know? It’s probably cold by now, you could have something else if it’s easier.” 
Something painful twinges in your expression. James reaches for your hand on instinct. 
“I get that you’ve got a lot going on, angel. We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but we could.” 
You sigh. “No, it’s…I don’t think it’s what you’re thinking, Jamie.” 
James frowns, but forces himself to stay quiet. He has the familiar sense that all he’s doing is putting his foot in his mouth. 
After a minute, you say quietly, eyes lingering to the side of your plate, “I haven’t always been able to eat properly. It’s been…I’m a lot better about it than I used to be, but it’s still difficult sometimes. Like now.” 
Your hand feels tensed inside of James’. His heart has begun to ache lowly. James thinks he knows the term for what you’re trying to tell him, but he’s not about to lob it at you now, not if it could only make you feel worse. He tries comforting you the surest way he can think of, smoothing his thumb along the side of your hand. 
It at least seems to relax you enough to say more. “You’re not too far off, I guess, because it is sometimes worse when I’m anxious.” You glance up at him tentatively, an attempt at a smile on your lips. “Food’s just a bit more difficult for me right now.” 
“I’m sorry I brought it up like that,” says James, earnestness aching in the back of his throat.
You lift a shoulder. “How could you have known? Sorry I haven’t been eating your cooking.” 
“That’s not your fault, sweetheart.” Your gaze flees his again. Guilt and shame quiet James’ voice. “I’m sorry, I thought you were only stressed.” 
You give a little laugh. “I guess I am stressed.” 
“Yeah, and for good reason, but…can I hug you?” 
You nod, and James gets out of his chair, bending awkwardly to get his arms around you. Your fingertips press into the muscles of his shoulders. 
“It’s not quite so simple as stress, though, is it?” he murmurs into your shirt. 
He feels your chest contract with a sigh. “No,” you admit. 
“What can I do to help?” 
“I don’t think there’s anything you can do, Jamie.”
“Not accuse you of not liking my cooking, though, surely.” 
Another little laugh, this one seemingly more genuine. “Yeah, that would help a bit, actually.” 
James worries about smothering you, backs up enough to see your face. His hands want to go there, too, one for each cheek. 
“Please tell me if you think of anything,” he says. You don’t agree but don’t look away from him either, which James figures is about as good as he’s going to get. “Would it be any easier if we ate in front of the telly?” 
You chew your lip. “It might, yeah. I’m not sure.” 
“You don’t have to make any promises,” he assures you, taking up your plate and bringing it into the kitchen. “Do you want me to reheat this for you? Or we could have something else?” 
You linger at the edge of the kitchen, fingers bundled up in your sleeves. “I’d like to try to finish that, if that’s okay.” 
“Of course it’s okay, m’love. More than okay.” James presses some buttons on the microwave, then turns to you, requisitioning you for another hug. He kisses your hair. “Thank you for telling me.” 
Your voice is soft. “Thank you for listening.”
He scoffs, squeezing you around the middle so that you squeal. “You make it sound like a chore. Don’t be so ridiculous.” James presses another kiss to your hair before releasing you. “Go find something good for us to watch, sweetheart, I’ll be there in a minute.”
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tan1shere · 1 month ago
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Make You
Billie Eilish x female reader !
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A/n: first fic for my lil kinktober ... tanntober? No that's stupid everyone else's sounds cute mine sounds busted 🥰 anyways PLEASE ENJOY 😈
Summary: you hated eachother.. so it seemed.
Warnings: smut, hate sex ?, bondage, rough Billie, fingering.
Masterlist - Halloween ML
I hate you...
Yeah. Turns me on
You were really good friends with Finneas and Claudia. So you were around quite a bit. And tonight was another small party at theirs, they'd often have a tiny one with the friend group plus some others. So you ofcourse knew Billie. Did you two get along? Nope, and here's why.
For some reason when you first became friends with them Billie was iffy about you. You had become friends with Claudia first, then Finneas. And suddenly you were around all the time. You were always so kind with everyone, and it seemed to bother her. She actually had no idea why she didn't like you she just didn't. Then you'd get brought up by one of them, and that started to bug her.
She was working with Finneas on some music, they were taking a break. "Y/n took this cute photo of peaches last night! She's actually good at photography-" Billies eyes roll. "Can we get back to this, please?" He stares at her. "What's your problem with her, shes so kind to you and lately you've been rude even to her face. Like fine do what you want or say what you want to me, but the poor girls done absolutely nothing to you." - "Yeah well she bugs me. How did you even meet her she kinda just spawned." He sets the mic he had in hand, down.
"Claudia was taking a pilates class and Y/n happened to be there and they got talking. Found out she lived quite close by, got to know her better and she was really sweet." Billie was getting tired of hearing about you. "We don't know what her intentions are." "Billie." She just shrugs. "What! She could be after you or something, she was getting cozy with you the other day I saw. Maybe she's going to break you and Claudia up!" Finneas looks at her like she's insane. "You really need to get to know her better. She's most definitely not after me." Her brows furrow. "And how do you know that?"
"Shes gay Billie, full blown lesbian. If anything she'd be interested in Claudia, but she isn't because she's just a decent human being, something you're kinda lacking at the moment." Maybe she was being quite over the top. She still hated you. But she might of been starting to realize why. Especially when she heard you were into girls. There was no doubt you were beautiful, too beautiful for words. When Billie was giving you dirty looks all the time she actually wasn't, in her mind she was thinking how effortlessly pretty you were. Maybe those things bugged her more so than the reason she claims to hate you for. Maybe she actually liked you but used the hatred method to get over it.
Regardless she still 'hated' you. And tonight you couldn't take it anymore. You had arrived early as usual, carrying a bag of supplies. "You didn't have to do that!" Claudia smiles at the girl. "Ofcourse i did! You know how much I love helping out." - "Ugh you're an angel." She says, helping you bring it in. Billie was there too and she couldn't help rolling her eyes, you being some perfect angel, she didn't believe it still. Even if the true reason was right infront of her. You on the other hand, had really liked Billie at first. She was gorgeous, she was talented and you admired her deeply.
That was until you found out she hated you, you kinda picked up on it with the looks and the snide comments. You tried to ignore it, saying that maybe she's just going through something. But that's just who you were, you'd always give people the benefit of the doubt. But you were strong you could handle people who mocked and criticized you when you had to. You stood up for yourself. And you sure as hell did tonight.
People started coming in the small house, crowding it ever so slightly. You had a drink in hand talking with some mutual friends you had made in the past year of knowing Finn and Claud. But you felt eyes on you. Not admiring ones, deadly ones. You turn to see it was ofcourse Billie. You wanted to ignore it but the drink was telling you to do the exact opposite. You excuse yourself from the conversation you were currently in and approach her on the couch. You never really talked to her, nor tried to. You got the impression it was pointless.
"Can we talk?" You ask so sweetly, you never had any bad intentions. But oh God she just wanted to rip that soft voice out of you. On the other hand she was a little shocked you'd even speak to her, she reluctantly said sure. Very nonchalantly, shrugging at the same time. She gets up and follows you to a quieter area. "Have I done something?" You finally ask, after months of knowing her, after months of her being crude. Yet another shrug. This wasn't going to be easy at all. "Well it sure seems as if I have, can I fix it?"
All you wanted was to be friends with people, never enemies. "Why are you so hell bent on making things perfect all the time." She finally snaps. "Billie-" "I swear you come in this house being all 'look at me I'm wonderful' When i doubt that's truly the case." You stare at her in disbelief. Finn had told you about Billie being off about you. But you never realized just how much. You swallow, unable to process her harsh words. "Well. If that's how you feel." She soon after nods. "Yup." You just scoff slightly. "Wow. Glad to know where I stand with you." Your feet go to move, when you then hear her speak.
"Hopefully really far away." The response was cold. You could feel your throat tightening, and honestly wanting to cry. But you weren't going to give her that satisfaction. "You're a bitch." You breathe out. "Right back at you." All you could think of was getting the hell out of there. You brush past people, Finneas being one of them. "Woah woah- where are you going?" His bewildered look made you sigh. "Ask your sister." You speak bluntly. Leaving after that. His brows furrow, on his way looking for her. Once he finds her he strides over. "What the fuck Billie." Eyes roll. Again.
"Oh what, did she come crying to you like a God damn baby? She came to me, I didn't start it." His head lowers, shaking it. "Jesus Billie, no she didn't come crying to me, she whooshed past heading for the door, she most definitely looked upset though. Why? Why have you got such a hatred for her for fuck sakes?" She just looks at her brother. "I dunno." He laughs slightly. "I do." Her brow raises, the left one. "Enlighten me." "You like her, but you can never deal with your feelings properly so you're pushing her away before you can fall too deep for her." Silence.
He knew her better than she knew herself, but it was true. The first time she ever did see you. Her heart was melting but she had to stop it. Maybe because of situations in the past, but she was too far into the hatred. She was genuinely believing she hated you. Even though it was a lie. "Whatever, I don't care. She started it." "No. You did, this would've never even happened if you hadn't grown this disliking bull shit. It's stupid." That was the last thing said before he leaves, Billie standing there not knowing what to do.
Nothing changed. Not even after Finneas scolded her. If anything the hatred grew, larger, causing you to hate her in the process. It was silly, but it happened. It was yet again another party, Claudia's brand had a new big release, so they were throwing a bit of a celebration. She had a small one two days ago, but decided a more boozey one would be fun. And it was at first, you were enjoying yourself. Dancing with a mutual friend, this one girl you had grown to like, Ava. A closer friend of Claudia's. She was always so bubbly and out there you loved it. Music was blasting, crowds of people. More so than the usual parties they'd throw.
A few drinks down and all you wanted to do was dance, Ava seemed to be on the same page, extending her hand out for you to grab. "Dance?" You smiled. "I thought you'd never ask!" You say loud enough over the booming music. Huge smiles were on both of your faces, but you couldn't help feeling the opposite shooting daggers into the back of your head. You sensed something. So instinctively you turn around, seeing none other than Billie. This time your eyes roll. You were so incredibly sick of her childishness. It was getting pathetic.
Your attention is soon back on Ava as her hands move to your waist, it was flirty. The whole situation. You hadn't realized Billies stare changed considering you weren't paying her any mind. It progressed into jealousy. She didn't ever want to admit that but it was true. That should be her, but she's gone too far. Screwed up too much to the point where you hated her guts. Only because she falsely hated you. It was all her dumbass fault. After a few songs you go upstairs to find the bathroom, stumbling just slightly.
Thankfully if you ever drunk too much they let you crash at theirs. Always. You were like family to them, more so Claudia. Both of your bonds were incredibly close. You come back out, but unpleasantly you met those stupid eyes. Ones that were beautiful, but attached to the person who drove you mental. Potentially in many ways..
"What do you want." - "You into her or something?" You glare at her. "Excuse me?" She presses her weight on her right leg. "Ava, she was getting quite close to you earlier." A scoff was heard from you. "Why on earth do you care. Might I mention all of a sudden, when you normally want to 'stay far away' from me." There was a slight pause, was she thinking of a response. Your eyes roll as you go to brush past her but she grabs your wrist. "Do you like her?" You try to pull. "Leave me alone Billie. Your presence is already pissing me off." She lets out a dry laugh. "Trust me, princess. Yours isn't liked a whole lot either. Don't get a big head." You wanted to scream in her face.
She was so infuriating. And even though that name was meant to be mocking you stupidly liked it. You give her one last glare before you're storming down the stairs. Her feet on your trail. You go to Ava and grab her face. "Kiss me." You say sweetly, mixed with a sultry tone. She smirked slightly. "Say no more." And she did just that, attaching her lips onto your own. Billie saw, vividly. If this was a cartoon, you'd surely see steam piping out of her ears. But why? Why on earth did this bother her so much. For someone who didn't give a fuck about you. She sure did seem to care a fuck ton.
After an hour or so you were going back up to the bathroom, making sure everything's still intact. When your wrist is being grabbed. "He!-" Then a hand was slapped against your mouth. "Zip it." Your eyes meet hers in the mirror, your instincts finally kicking in after the initial confusion. You bite her hand making her retract, pushing her back. "What the fuck is wrong with you. Do tell cuz I'm getting genuinely sick of this shit." She laughs in your face. It was cold and mocking. Just like all the other times before. "You're just a spoilt bitch you know that." Your eyes roll but she grabs your jaw. "You love rolling your eyes huh."
You push her off of you, again. "What? you're the only one who can?" - "Smart mouth." She says.
"Fucking dick." You stare at one another for a second, something shifted in the air. Something different. She slowly backs you up against the sink. No words to be said, just actions. Her eyes going over your face, eyes, cheeks nose. Lips. Your heart picks up at the current moment. The whole situation being odd. Still no words. Her eyes linger on your lips, hands eventually making contact with your hips. What were you giving in to? It felt like you were. This new found tension. Her face was incredibly close to your own. You hated that you liked this, you hated how she has you currently. You felt weak, weaker than you had been.
"I hate you." You seethed, but it was hushed. Unable to focus on forming the right sentences. "Yeah, turns me on." Your breath hitches in your throat, only visible to your mind. Glad she couldn't see how wound up you are getting. You couldn't take the slight tease. You give into everything. Leaning in to kiss her, it was intense, messy. Hot, like lava. Her hands move over your body as you shift in her touch. "Hate you so much." You say on her lips. "Sure you do." You hum. Resuming the kiss, but hers goes to your chin, jaw. Neck. You breathe out. "Hate you.." - "Just shut up." Her teeth sink into your skin, doing just as she had asked. Your mouth shut tight. Eyes doing the same.
When all of a sudden your back hits the bathroom wall. Her hands grip your wrists and shove them above your head, against the cold brick. Your shocked expression makes her laugh. "I hate you too angel, with a burning passion." Her knee presses hard against your clothed cunt, causing your mouth to fall open with a gasp. "God you make me so angry, but look at you. At the same time I just wanna fuck you senseless. This time your eyes would be rolling for a different reason." "Please." Your voice was moany, whiney. All of the above. You needed this and now. She goes to lock the door, slithering her belt out in the process.
It was her HMHAS one, so it was perfect for what she wanted to do. "Everything off." And in a heartbeat her request was fulfilled. She sighs out, making your thighs clench at how hot it sounded. "Even through all the hate I still wanted you deep down." She admitted, making you swoon for this more. "Need you." She smirks at you, how eager you have become. "Yeah? Turn around, wrists together." How could you possibly deny that. Your back faces her as your arms go behind you. She ties that same belt tightly around them, fastening it in the black lock. You were truly trapped. And she was loving it.
"You gotta stay quiet though, can't have anyone know what we are up to can we?" You look at her. "What, wouldn't want people hearing that you don't actually hate me?" Your breath soon gets caught as she grabs the end of the belt, tightening it harder. "Watch it." She not only warns with her voice but her eyes too. You glare at her slightly, eventually feeling her tug you around and sitting you on the sink counter. "Stay quiet. If you don't do exactly as I say I'll leave you here. With nothing." Your eyes fell. Deciding to stop the act and just listen. Her fingers meet your wet pussy making your head fall against the mirror. "Fuck-" You bite your lip, remember what she had said.
"Mmm, close one huh?" You bit hard, nodding slightly. Her fingers slowly make contact with your entrance wasting no time into dipping them in, harshly. She was fucking evil. She wasn't even going to try be nice by taking it slow. Ensuring some noises come out. Your lip starts to bleed and she just laughs. "You stupid girl." You wanted to slap her, and you go to do so but remember. You can't. A tiny groan leaves your throat. "Uh-huh, think again." She says, noticing you struggle in the belt. When she hears you whine, muffled by your teeth sinking into your lip.
Her pace was ungodly, sending your eyes to truly roll back. "That's it, take them like the greedy bitch you are." You retreat your teeth from its former position. "Mm, fuck you." You mindlessly say. "Oh baby, don't say things you know you can't handle." You gave up, gave up with trying to outsmart her in any way. "Billie please, just fucking ruin me." Your request had her shocked slightly. "Don't underestimate me baby." - "I plan to."
Her fingers swiftly move out of you, earning a moan at the feeling and stretch. Her Jeans hit the floor, making you look infront at the fake dick. She looked so good, staring down at you with such lust. Enjoying the fact she was way taller than you now, your form sinking into the counter. Your body slumped. Anticipating what was about to come. Preferably you. The tip of the cock touches your weeping hole, making your mind race. You didn't care anymore you needed this more than anything. "Please put it in, please Billie-" And she does. Deep. Taking things on the faster side, fucking you absolutely filthy. Your head leans back again as it hits deeper. "Shit." You mutter softly. When you heard knocking. "Everything alright in there." Your eyes widen as you hear Avas voice.
She didn't know you were in there, but Billie needed her to. She had to show what was now hers. No one else was in here fucking your brains out, it was her. Just her. So she thrusts deeper than she had that night, hitting your g-spot causing you to let out a breathy moan. Bingo. "Yep! Just had a drunken lil accident and got hurt but it's all ok." Billie then replies. What a fucking liar, a good one because Ava seemed to believe it mainly. But Billie didn't stop, not one bit. "You're so annoying." You moan again. "Am I really? I'm just so annoying, isn't it so annoying that I'm fucking you so good. Your eyes are getting a good view of the back of your head. Yeah, how annoying."
Your eyes begin to shut, but her hand fixes on your jaw, holding tight. "Still hate me huh?" "Mhmmm." You say with your teeth back on your lip. "Mm, those noises tell me otherwise." She gets the perfect angle, hitting that blissful spot deep inside you. "Billie-" You gasp. "Go on, cum all over it. Gush all your hate on my dick baby." That alone sent you insane, your back arching as her thrusts continue. "Fuckfuckfuck." You chant as you felt it coming. Your orgasm has you shaking, has her satisfied. She was in awe seeing you like this.
"Still hate me, princess?"
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smileysuh · 1 month ago
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dumb frat boy - TEASER
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🌙 starring. Lee Donghyuck x afab!Reader
🔮 preview. “I’d ask what you want me to do to you, but I did some research last night, watched some of that Hentaid shit you were talking about. It’s a lot of bondage, isn’t it, Angel? A lot of… creampies. You’ve got a thing for being held down and filled, huh? I guess…” he lets out a small laugh, “I guess I’m a little shocked, seeing as you’re so sassy with me. Guess you just want someone to put you in your place. What is it you called Johnny? A good daddy dom? I might not always be a dom, but for you, I can make it work.” 
tw/cw. yandere/stalker sub themes, ‘unknown’ caller, he’s horny, mentions of porn/masturbation, weed/alcohol use, unprotected sex, oral (m/f receiving), deep throating, face fucking, nipple pinching/nipple worship, fingering, dirty talk, praise, hyuck has a thick cock, cum/fullness kink, creampie, etc… I pet names: (hers) Angel (his) baby.
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 9.1k
🍭 aus. uni/frat au, yandere subthemes, Halloween, etc…
☀️ mlist + an.  We're back in the Ghostie au! I'm so happy to be able to put out a fic for Hyuck a year after the original story captivated so many of us <3
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“Burner phone, baby.”
“And what would be the point of getting a burner phone just to call little ol’ me?” you sigh, relaxing against your pillows and pinching the bridge of your nose in annoyance. 
“Why so serious, Angel?”
“Jeeze, dude, if you’re going to do the whole creepy caller before Halloween cliche, at least stick to your character.” You can’t believe he’s quoting Health Ledger’s Joker at you now. “Who are you even trying to be? Ghost Face is so last Halloween, we all know Johnny knocked that shit out of the park. A copycat sequel is just… early 2000’s.”
“Okay, let me drop character for just a second,” the man on the other end of the line sighs, and you giggle at how his voice modulator emphasizes his own exasperation. “Think, horny telephone guy.”
“I wouldn’t call Ghost Face particularly horny, he was just a nerd.”
“I’m not Ghost Face!” he insists. “Scream came out in the mid-nineties, think earlier than that.” 
“What, am I supposed to be some kind of horror movie expert?” you scoff. 
“Fine, I’ll just tell you,” the guy sighs. “Have you seen Black Christmas?”
“Never even heard of it.”
“Fuck,” he curses. “Well, don’t go watch it, it has some cult following but it’s not even one of my favourites- the reason I chose the dude from that movie is because he’s a horny little fuck and calls a sorority house and some shit- and also, don’t look up the second movie, I don’t claim the sequel.” 
“Wow, I love that you chose a character based purely on horniness and not if the movie is even good,” you giggle.
“Well, Johnny took the best slasher caller! What was I supposed to do? Go all ghost child from The Black Phone movie?”
“What’s The Black Phone movie?”
“Ethan Hawke? Horror veteran, who plays the hero author in Sinister, turned bad guy in the 2021 film by the same director?” 
You let out a whistle. “TBH, dude, it sucks Johnny got to Ghostie first last year, because I’d bet money you know more about horror movies than he does.”
“I one hundred percent do!” 
“Okay, so back to the point,” you laugh. “You’re calling me as this horny dude from some Halloween Christmas movie- for what?”
“To talk to you?” he suggests. “To uh… be horny… at you?” 
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froggibus · 4 months ago
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hiiiii :3 idk if ur taking reqs for dc right neow but a thought that tickles my brain rlly good is dick grayson/reader w a praise kink and dick exploits it n uses it to his advantage.... preferably afab reader but gn is fine :P
CTRL + H - Dick Grayson
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Pairing: Dick Grayson x fem! best friend! reader (uses fem pronouns + has a pussy)
Genre: smut/NSFW
Word Count: 4.1k
Summary: when your best friend discovers porn in your browser history while fixing your computer, he decides to use it to his advantage
CW: friends to lovers, lots of praise, uses of ‘good/pretty/lovely girl’ dick calls you sweetheart/angel, dick is CORNY I’m sorry, mentions of porn/asmr porn, teasing, gaslighting (but not really), fingering, marking, unprotected sex, lots of sweat (its sexy i swear), dick fucks you over a desk, kinda rough sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, implied to be summer, i think thats it??
hey hi 👽 anon, thanks for the request! im sorry it took so long, it wasn't meant to be this long i swear, i just got caught up in the thought of Dick being all hot and sweaty and praising you while fucking you >~< and yeah this happened. really hope you like it (but if you don't, let me know and ill totally rewrite it!) lots of love yes i took an extra 30 mins to find nightwing #83 to take a picture of the comic book to make this banner lol
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As if having Dick Grayson look at your search history wasn’t bad enough, now you have to live with the mortifying ordeal of him knowing you have a praise kink.  
When you had first invited him over to take a look at your malfunctioning computer, you’d thought nothing of it. You figured he would turn it on and off again, maybe update some drivers. So when he suddenly clicked into your browser and began scrolling through the long, long list of websites you’ve visited, you weren’t sure how to react. 
You noticed it at the same time as him, the glowing screen forcing you to freeze where you stand. There on the screen, from just last night, read: praise nsfw asmr. You swallow hard and lunge for the mouse to click out of your browser history, but breathe a sigh of relief when Dick does it first. 
There’s a beat of silence, your racing thoughts deafeningly loud as you try to come up with a reason to kick him out. Fanning your face as if that will help chase away the heat of the day, you swallow once more in an attempt to work some moisture back into your mouth. 
“F—find anything?” You say as casually as you can. 
It’s ridiculous how embarrassed you are, honestly. He’s just your friend, it’s just porn, it’s not like it’s the end of the world. Still, the rattling of your heart against your rib cage and his cruelly quiet silence make it feel like it is. 
He shakes his head. “Not so far, I should keep looking but—“ he flicks his eyes up your body, perfect blues tracing your every curve, “you seemed flustered.”
You raise your hands in denial all too quickly, your sweaty palms stretched out towards him. Dick raises an eyebrow, examining you in the way he does with strangers in coffee shops. 
“I just…don’t see how my search history is relevant, I guess. That’s all.”
He grabs your wrists, lowering your arms from the defensive position they’ve taken. Despite the familiarity of his touch, something feels off, different in a way you can’t explain. You shake the thought away. 
The world has not shifted on its axis because your best friend suddenly knows what kind of porn you’re into. 
His touch lingers on your wrist and he uses the leverage to gently pull you closer to where he sits at your desk. When he finally drops your wrist, a chill circles the space where his hand once was, refreshing your feverish skin.
“I just want to make sure you haven’t accidentally picked up a virus somewhere. If we can find one in your history, it’ll be much easier to get rid of it.”
The explanation only half seeps into the mush your brain has turned into under his gaze and you find yourself nodding without quite understanding. 
You were fooling yourself by inviting him here. While asking for his help was cheaper than hiring a professional, having him so close to you almost hurts—especially when lately you’ve been trying to force away the feelings you’ve harboured for him. 
“So,” Dick says again, “won’t you be a good girl and let me fix your computer for you?”
His words force you out of your thoughts, purely by short circuiting your brain. You blink at him with wide eyes, your heart pounding in your chest. 
“W—what did you say?”
“I just asked if I could fix your computer now.” 
You tilt your head in confusion. Did you mishear him, or did he call you ‘good girl’? He flashes you that signature smirk of his, his blue eyes suddenly dark with something you don’t recognize. 
Though everything on his face reads innocent, something not-so innocent lurks beneath the surface. Something that stares you down and screams ‘challenge me’. 
“Yeah.” You swallow. “I guess that’s fine.” You take a deep breath and try to steady the spinning in your head. 
Dick continues his work nonchalantly, hitting a few keys and opening your browser history once more. You turn your eyes away from the screen, instead focusing on the way your fingers grasp the desk until it hurts. 
You listen to him scroll for a while and try to pretend like he’s not looking through the most intimate part of your life. The idea of him seeing that part of you excites you as much as it nauseates you—a lethal combination. 
“You can relax.” Dick hums. 
You lift your head to look at him just to see him focused completely on the screen. You don’t dare glance at what he’s so focused on. 
“Why not sit down? This could take a while.” He says calmly. “I’m sure you’ll feel much better if you do.” 
You roll your shoulders. “I think I’ll just stand.”
There’s a shift in his eyes as if your words sparked something in them. He finally glances away from your screen, completely focusing on you with a newfound intensity. You want to shrink from his gaze, to run down the hall and hide in your broom closet, but you stay rooted in place. 
“It would help me a lot if you sit down. Don’t you want to be a good girl and help me out?” 
Holy fuck. “What did you just say?”
It feels like you’re waiting an eternity for him to speak again, your heart beating a mile a minute. He’s going to deny it, or make fun of you even more or worse—tell Wally about it. 
He pats his lap. “Come sit with me,” he purrs, “be a good girl, keep me company while I work.”
In your shock, you find yourself shuffling towards him and settling in his lap. Dick helps you adjust, tugging you back to his chest and keeping one arm around you while his other reaches for the mouse once more. 
He’s so close to you that you can feel the beating of his heart, his breath on your neck. You close your eyes and pray that he can’t feel the heartbeat that’s suddenly appeared between your legs.
You can’t remember a single time he’s been this close to you, a single time he’s touched you like this. The sudden proximity makes you dizzy, butterflies taking flight in your tummy. You clench the arm rests on either side in an attempt to keep your cool.
Dick shifts behind you, one of his thighs gently brushing your clit in a way that makes you squirm. “Don’t do that!” 
His hand slides from your waist to grip your thigh, a shiver running up your spine at the contact. “Don't do what? This?” He repeats the motion.
You squeak, lurching forward in an attempt to get away from the friction. You tilt too far and suddenly you’re falling head over heels towards the mat beneath your chair. Dick is quicker than that, wrapping one arm around your chest and another around your waist to tug you harshly back to him.
“Don’t do that,” you repeat breathlessly, “please.”
He rests his chin on your shoulder, soft strands of black hair tickling your cheek. “Why not? Use your words, angel.”
The nickname reignites something inside of you, rekindling a fire between your legs. You clench them together in the hopes it will do something to muffle the throbbing, but when you feel Dick smirk against the side of your neck, you know you’ve failed.
When you don’t answer him, he grins his knee between your legs once more, an innocent hum prompting you.
“You’re—fuck, you’re kneeing me in the cunt.”
Dick’s not sure if it’s from your brazen words or how entirely ridiculous this whole afternoon has been, but suddenly he’s laughing. A big, open mouthed, creasing at the corners of his eyes, laugh. 
His laugh surprises you enough to summon one of your own, sending you both into a fit. You shift on his lap to look at him, wrapping your arms around his neck to support yourself while the two of you laugh. It’s stupid and ridiculous and you’re not quite sure what you’re laughing at—just that you are. 
You’re laughing and laughing and suddenly his lips are on yours and his eyes are closed and—fuck, he’s kissing you. And then you’re not laughing anymore, your hands brushing up his neck and tangling in his hair. He’s not laughing anymore either, his hands gripping your waist like he expects you to leave at any moment.
You’re breathless when you pull away, refusing to open your eyes and face the reality in front of you. Because maybe the world didn’t shift on its axis when he learned your porn preferences, but it definitely has because he just kissed you.
He taps your cheek gently, using that terribly calm voice he does whenever you start spiralling. “Y/n.” He coos, “open your eyes, y/n.”
You bite your lip, shaking your head in refusal. You know as soon as you do, you’ll have to confront your feelings for him, and his for you, and all of that is just too much and god, when did it get so hot in here? 
You open your eyes one at a time, casting them down to where your thighs rest on his. Your hands come together, fingers twirling in your lap just to give you something to focus on other than the throbbing in your clit and the weight of Dick’s eyes on you.
He drags a finger down your overheating cheeks, tracing the outline of your jaw and tipping your head up to face him. His blue eyes are lined with something new, something darker—a need you’ve never seen before. 
“Look at me.” There’s a commanding tone to his voice before it softens, “c’mon, please?”
You finally force yourself to meet his eyes, the familiar ultramarine calming the sudden bite of your nerves. “Only cause you asked so nicely,” you say quietly. 
“Good girl,” he smiles and it feels like the sun pushing through rain clouds. He strokes your cheek gently, his thumb landing on your cupid's bow. 
You shiver beneath his touch despite the unbearable heat of the day. While his finger on your lips threatens to send you flying away, spiralling into space, his other does the opposite. His grip on your hip is tight, fingers digging in and sure to leave behind bruises. 
“Can I kiss you again?” He asks quietly. 
It’s only a small mercy that your nod doesn’t prompt another ‘good girl’ from him, or some other horribly delightful variation of it. However, when his lips brush yours and his hand slides to the base of your throat, all of the thoughts melt away. There’s no embarrassment, no overthinking, just raw emotion and the sensation of his skin on yours. 
You shift in his lap, sliding one of your thighs over his so you can straddle him. Dick offers a guiding hand while you slide forward, half steadying you, half tugging you closer. You shimmy up the length of his jeans until you’re as close as possible, your stomach pressing into his toned abs. 
A gasp leaves your throat when your clit brushes the very edge of the bulge in his jeans, the noise only edging him along. His teeth graze your bottom lip, both gentle and desperate, before his tongue slips into your mouth. 
The taste of him is intoxicating, consuming you until you’re grabbing his cheeks with both hands to pull him as close as possible. You whine when his cock grazes your clit again and Dick breaks the kiss to let out a breathy laugh against your lips. 
“Someone’s needy,” he teases, but his eyes are rimmed with dark and when he looks at you through his lashes, all you see is need. 
“Back at you.”
His palm sticks to your cheek with sweat when he goes to pull it away. “You’ve been so good for me today,” he hums, his other hand trailing up your thigh. “Let me take care of you, yeah?”
You mumble a breathy ‘please’ before his fingers are brushing your clit through your pants, the heat pooling in your panties near insatiable. You tighten your grip on him and bury your face in the tight black fabric of his t-shirt to muffle your heavy breathing.
While one hand rubs intense figure eights up the length of your pussy, his other hand is fiddling with the buttons of your pants. He sighs in triumph at the soft popping noise and then the fabric is pulling away from your skin, Dick somehow managing to tug them down with only one hand. 
You shift in his lap and prop yourself up on your knees to give him better access while he drags the fabric down your thighs. He takes advantage of your position to spin you to face your monitor once more, leaning back in the chair so you’re reclined against his muscled chest.
Warm breath fans the overheating skin of your neck just where your shirt meets your skin. Two calloused fingers dip into the waistband of your underwear, skimming the warmth and slick of your cunt. Dick sucks in a breath, his pants suddenly too tight.
“You really are needy,” he swallows hard. “Lovely, needy girl.”
His words only serve as a catalyst to the intense need you feel in your core, amplifying your desire tenfold. The pad of his index finger brushes your clit and you’re suddenly a goner. Your eyes squeeze shut and you throw your head back, imagining the circles of Dick’s fingers in your mind.
He gently kisses at the neckline of your shirt, his lips soft against the sensitive skin. His tongue runs across the sensitive skin there in tandem with the moving of his hand, the duality sending shockwaves through you. You have to bite your lip to keep from crying out his name.
His wrist slides further into your underwear, fingers moving away from your swollen clit to run along the rim of your aching pussy. You suck in a breath, not moving an inch while you anticipate what’s to come.
Dick sucks a dark mark into your neck. “Ready f’me?” He mumbles into your skin.
You eagerly nod, trying to shift your hips into his fingers and shove them inside of you, but Dick moves away. You frown, lazily looking over your shoulder at him.
“You have to use your words.”
You almost roll your eyes but in your desperation, let your head hang in defeat and open your trembling mouth. “I-I’m ready Dick,” you say, quietly adding, “please.”
“Good girl.” 
Then he’s suddenly slipping a finger inside of you, travelling the length of your spongy walls to sit deep inside of you. A gasp rips through you, his name tumbling off your lips faster than you can catch it. He grips your hip to steady you, strong fingers bruising the exposed skin.
He curls his finger inside of you, prodding at that sweet fucking sensitive spot. He only stops when you whine, slipping his finger out for only a second before shoving it back in. He repeats the motion, starting a rhythm of thrusting in and out, his hand on your hip tapping along in tandem.
You squirm in his lap, that ball in the centre of your stomach turning white hot and growing until you can barely contain it. One of your hands squeezes his wrist—whether to stop or encourage him, you don’t know.
“Dick,” you whine, your voice taking on a raspy tone you hardly recognize.
He hums in response. “Does that feel good?”
“S-so good.”
He rewards you by slipping his other finger inside of you, the two of them working in unison. His fingers are so long and thick that they reach places inside you that you’ve never been able to touch on your own, stretching your walls just enough to make your eyes roll back.
The impending waves of your orgasm roll over you, that knot in your core so tight that you know it's bound to undo any second. You squeeze his wrist tighter in warning, your fingers pressing into his veins until you can feel the steady thrum of his blood pulsing. 
Dick slips his hand from your waist up your shirt, palming your tit. “Cum for me,” he murmurs. “You’ve earned it, sweetheart.”
His words walk you right over the edge, that knot finally coming undone and sending wave after wave of molten pleasure through you. Every muscle in your body contracts, your pussy squeezing his fingers so tightly it almost hurts. Both your hands clench around the wrist currently in your underwear. Holding him steady while you ride out your high on his fingers.
Dick holds you, keeping you stable while you gush and thrash wildly in his lap. He can feel your slick soak through the fabric of his jeans, his thighs warm with your juices, but he can’t bring himself to care. 
He trails kisses up your neck to your jaw, your cheeks and finally, tips your head back until he can plant soft, chaste kisses to your lips. His wrist aches from how hard you squeeze him but he doesn’t dare pull away until your muscles are relaxing and you let out your first, panting breath.
“Feel good?” He prompts.
You shake your head vigorously, all sweaty hair and hot skin and aching lungs. Dick almost wishes he had a camera because the sight of you laying in his lap all fucked out is one he would love to savor and put in his wallet.
He shifts behind you, only now remembering his aching cock and how badly it yearns to be free of the denim confining it. “Think you could do one more? For me? It would make me feel so, so good, sweetheart.”
You don’t think twice about his words, lazily trapping his lips in a sloppy needy kiss and mumbling ‘yes’ against him. In your fucked out state, you’re only half sure that you’re even speaking, the world around you fading. Dick slips his hand out of your panties, his palm soaked with your juices, and rests it on your thigh. 
“I need you to stand up for me,” he says, only half asking. 
He helps you up on shaky knees, your pants that had been resting just above your knees dropping the rest of the way to the floor. You brace yourself against the desk, half bent over while Dick slowly tugs down your panties. The minute the sticky, soaked fabric peels away from your pussy, you gasp.
Dick stares at the mess he’s made of you proudly, your folds glistening with the slick of your last orgasm. He burns the image into his mind while he fumbles with the zipper of his jeans, standing behind you while he drags them to the floor with his boxers. His cock springs free, thick and dripping with pre cum, begging for you.
He strokes it absentmindedly, all of his thoughts only on you and your trembling thighs, bent so perfectly over the desk waiting for him. He lines the head of his cock up with your entrance, rubbing it through your folds and prodding your clit before repeating the process over again.
Each shift of his cock, each rock of his hips, forces shivers of anticipation down your spine. Heavy breaths leave your lips, your arms barely managing to hold your weight over the desk when you dip your head down to stare at him through the crook of your arm.
“Such a pretty pussy. So wet and needy,” he groans when he finally lets his cock rest at your entrance. “So ready for my cock.”
You nod even though he’s mostly talking to himself. You let your arms sag against the desk and rest your face against your forearm, the sweaty skin sticking to your forehead. Dick thrusts forwards and lets the head of his cock push inside of you.
Moans leave him the second he dips into your heat, the tip of his cock stretching you in a way that has both of your eyes rolling back. His fingers resume their earlier position on your hip, digging in so hard it almost hurts. 
He stills once his tip is nestled in your walls, listening to the whiny breaths you let out while you adjust to his size. Your clench your hands into fists, slightly shifting from left to right to help him fit better. He’s big, bigger than you expected, but the way he molds your walls to his cock is almost enough to have you cum right then and there.
Dick is so distracted by the sight of his cock dipped inside of you that he doesn’t remember to move. It’s only when you let out a needy whine and shuffle your hips backwards that he realizes you’ve been waiting so patiently for him.
He snaps his hips against yours, the head of his cock barreling so deep inside of you so quickly that it almost hurts. “Sorry, pretty girl,” he pants, “didn’t mean to make you wait.”
You try to tell him that it’s okay but you’re silenced with another hard thrust. You cry out his name into your arm, your teeth grazing at your skin in your attempt to be quiet. Dick grabs the other side of your waist, using his hands to push and pull you as he pleases.
You fall further against the desk, your body lazily resting against it while Dick’s hips snap into yours repeatedly. The room is filled with the sound of skin on skin, a chorus of your combined moans filling the empty space between thrusts. Each shift of his hips, each prod of his cock, only spurs you further along.
You squeeze your eyes shut, completely focused on his cock battering its way through your walls. You’re only vaguely aware of Dick talking to you, his praise sounding incoherent beneath the rush of blood to your ears. Your pussy flutters around him, his cock scraping your cervix with every thrust.
He thrusts particularly hard into you, his cock jamming hard into the very edge of your walls, forcing a loud cry from you. It aches as much as it pleases, and without thinking, you’re suddenly crawling forward across your desk. Dick tightens his grip on you before you can get very far, tugging you back hard against him and slamming your pussy down on his cock.
You nearly squeal from the pleasure, tears forming in the corners of your eyes. That familiar heat builds inside of you once more, spilling over more and more with each intense thrust.
“You’re taking me so well,” he coos. “So tight—god, it’s like your pussy was made for me. Fuck.”
His lewd words add to that growing knot inside of you and suddenly you’re coming undone in his arms. Everything is too hot, too much, too loud. Tears spill from your eyes and you’re barely aware of the half sobs, half moans you let out through your orgasm.
“That’s right, let it all out. Good girl, cumming around my cock like that.”
Dick holds you steady the whole time you cum, thrusts growing sloppy as your pussy sucks him in and tries to keep him inside of you forever. He’s almost as breathless as you while he watches you cum and the way your pussy seizes around him is enough to have him tumbling over the edge after you.
He wraps both arms around your waist, pulling your hips flush to his, before he lets the both of you fall back into the chair behind him. Your new position forces his cock deeper inside of you—as deep as it can go—and then he’s cumming inside of you.
You can barely feel the hot ropes of cum he spills inside of you while you come down from your own high. Your thighs shake where they rest over his and you’re grateful for him holding you. 
Dick lets his forehead rest in the crook of your neck, his sweaty hair wetting your t-shirt. Even after he’s done cumming, he holds you tightly against him, the two of you panting in sync.
It’s nearly five minutes later when you can finally bring yourself to speak, your hoarse voice evidence of the pounding you’ve just taken. “I take it you saw my browsing history?” are the first words out of your mouth.
Dick laughs, his voice gravelly and deep and sexy. “Yeah,” he says, kissing your cheek. “I did.”
You awkwardly turn in his lap, twitching at the way it adjusts his half-hard cock inside of you. You look up at his eyes, the blue finally starting to seep back in through the dark. He cups your face, his hand sweaty, and pulls you in for another kiss.
When you pull away, you can’t help but ask, “so, what now?”
“First, I think I should show you how to use Incognito Mode.”
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topazadine · 4 months ago
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Avoiding therapy speak in writing
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I think we all know by now that therapy speak is irritating and unrealistic, especially if you are writing in a fantasy world that doesn't even have modern psychology.
Part of the reason that it is so annoying is that it is the definition of telling instead of showing: characters are just plainly informing us of their feelings rather than making us work for a better understanding. It's cheap and boring. Instead of making your characters seem like complex individuals with their own hangups and difficulties, they seem like plot points programmed to tell us things.
But obviously, you want to put these people in situations and have them talk about it! How do you do that without sounding maudlin? Here are some options.
Listen to real arguments/conversations
I cannot stress enough how important it is to listen to how actual real human beings talk to each other during heightened emotional states. They don't have to be nasty abusers, and they don't have to be perfect angels, just everyday people doing their normal thing.
Of course, I'd hope you're not seeing people argue all the time, but if you do happen to see it, listen carefully and notice how people actually address their problems. Think back to tough conversations that you have had, even if you wouldn't classify them as arguments. Consider how people acted and reacted to one another. Notice how normal humans talk about issues outside of therapy, even intelligent and emotionally evolved people.
I've had years of therapy, and even I do not talk in therapy ways about my issues when I'm talking to my family or friends. It just feels cheesy and fake outside of that particular setting - plus, it freaks other people out and can seem kind of manipulative. Try talking like that in a real conversation and see how uncomfortable it is. You'll understand why avoiding therapy speak is important.
Consider the character's own hangups
Just as everyone has their own unique speaking style and mindset, so do we all have our own argument styles. These are often informed by our pasts and upbringing; they are as varied as our own histories. However, there are a few different options.
Someone with a happy upbringing may be more assertive and willing to address their problems because they had that demonstrated to them as children.
A spoiled child will grow up to be a demanding adult who refuses to give any quarter.
Those who got yelled at a lot as children may shut down and fawn to avoid getting hurt.
Someone who grew up in a violent household may mimic that behavior and get incredibly aggressive when upset.
Individuals whose parents didn't teach them emotional regulation will lash out and get loud.
Manipulative people may stay very calm and gaslight the other person, or they may get hysterical to garner sympathy and make people focus on comforting them.
Someone who has gone to therapy may revert to their original argument style, or they may imperfectly apply what they have learned in a way that feels a bit unnatural. They may start out with rage, then force themselves to calm down through grounding techniques.
People who have been coached through previous emotional outbursts could demand a time out, then fail to actually calm themselves down.
Some may refuse to acknowledge they are upset and insist, in increasingly forceful terms, that they are fine.
Others may get quiet or crack a joke to ease the tension, but it doesn't really help.
Keep each confrontation short
IRL, emotional confrontations are generally not that long. They don't go on for hours and hours, though it can feel that way. No one is going on and on about their feelings and sharing every little detail of how they feel (at least not that I know of personally, maybe other people are different).
Even the worst arguments I have had, the real nexus of the argument was maybe an hour or two, though the fallout lasted much longer. I'd say there was an hour maximum of real, active confrontation, preceded or followed by hours/days/weeks of simmering frustration.
Why? Because arguments are exhausting. You don't have the energy for that in the heat of the moment. Yes, feuds and fights can last years, but each actual confrontation is short.
For longer, more serious issues, hash it out over a few sessions rather than all at once. It's rare to get everything out of the way immediately unless the characters already have a strong, loving relationship.
Show incongruencies
Especially for more reserved people, they will likely have their emotions leaking all over the place but won't actually say anything. As such, focus on body language while keeping the conversation more focused on the plot. For example, Character A might be crying but still trying to argue their point about whatever is going on.
Address physical complaints instead of emotional ones
In many cases, people will use "I'm tired" or "I didn't sleep well" or "I'm not feeling great" as shorthand for whatever is actually bothering them. It relieves pressure by not making them talk about upsetting matters while still addressing their discomfort in some form.
You should also consider the fact that some people can't connect physical sensations to feelings, so they may genuinely feel ill and not really understand why. This is especially common in people who can't emotionally regulate or have been through trauma.
For myself, I tend to somatize my feelings, so I might not feel upset, but I will feel physically sick. My stomach will hurt, my chest will get tight, or I'll get a headache, but my emotional state will seem calm. This isn't all that unusual, and many people experience this to different degrees.
As such, you can have your character say that their stomach hurts, or that they have a headache and can't discuss this anymore, or that they need to go lie down because they're dizzy. If we know they're relatively healthy, this can be a clue that they're getting overwhelmed but either cannot pinpoint their emotions or don't want to discuss them.
Let characters advance and retreat
A lot of the time, someone will address a scary emotion and then retreat again, sometimes over a period of hours, days, or even weeks. This is normal: most of us don't have the emotional fortitude to forge ahead through something difficult all in one go. Character A may say something vulnerable, then change the topic, laugh it off, say they're done discussing it, or even leave the situation.
Leave emotions partially unaddressed
Again, it's rare for someone to spill out everything they're feeling all in one go. As such, have Character A address the most important thing - or the least important, depending on their level of emotional maturity - and let it be done for then.
They might say their small piece, but when someone tries to probe deeper, they don't have an answer, or they get "stuck" on that one emotional level and cannot go further.
If Character B keeps pushing, then they may get incredibly upset and push back, or retreat.
Have Character B point out the feelings
Works especially well if the other character is a close companion or a parental figure. Often, people who know us really well will have better insight into our emotions than we do. Or, we might have good insight into our emotions but are still too afraid to open up. Having Character B point out the issue gives Character A grace to be more honest.
I can't tell you how many times I've been really upset, so I've distracted from the issue by getting angry about something completely different. Then, my mom will gently point out that I'm not actually crying about my new plastic cup being broken or whatever; I'm actually upset about XYZ. In that moment, I realize I've been caught out and admit that yes, that's what I'm really upset about.
Have Character A address it with a third character
Who among us hasn't gone to someone else to talk about our feelings? Having a third party serve as a sounding board is normal. Sometimes, Character A will feel such catharsis from this conversation that they don't address it as thoroughly with Character B.
Of course, you can use this to your advantage and create more tension if the third character gives bad advice or is biased.
Remember that just because the third party responded well does not mean that Character B does. You also have to avoid omniscience and remember that Character B wasn't privy to that conversation.
Have one confrontation be a stand-in for a larger one
I always think about the "The Iranian Yogurt Is Not the Issue" post when I think about this. Often times, things like not doing the dishes or whatever aren't actually the big deal: it's lack of boundaries, communication, or respect. A minor argument can be shorthand for a larger one that is too challenging for the characters to tackle.
This isn't just creating drama for the hell of it, though; it's about exploring the larger issues without making the characters lay it out on the table. A good reader will be able to see it's not about the Iranian Yogurt as long as you set up the relationship well.
Currently, I am writing a story where Uileac and his sister Cerie go to rescue Uileac's husband, Orrinir. On the way there, Uileac idly comments on how he wonders where a waterfall comes from because he's trying to distract himself from thinking about the fact that his husband is kidnapped and possibly dead.
Cerie, being pretty wound up too, starts arguing with him about it because she's like "why is this relevant? We're kind of too busy to think about geology right now!" Uileac gets annoyed at her for being so aggro, and she gets annoyed at him for being so irreverent. Both of them are upset about something completely different, but they're too scared and panicked to actually address that, so they release their frustrations by complaining about waterfalls.
Those bad vibes have to go somewhere, but neither of them are very good at talking about their feelings (though very good at stuffing them down). As such, they take the pressure off by sniping at one another. You've probably done this too, when you get into a dumb argument about something absolutely pointless because there's something you don't feel strong enough to discuss.
There's also the fact that if you're mad at someone about something but feel it's too stupid or petty to discuss, that frustration will leak out and everything else they do will annoy you, leading to a bunch of irrelevant arguments.
Use "reaffirmation" gestures
I talked about this in a different post, but after an argument, the "make up" stage doesn't always involve going "ohhh I forgive you" and big hugs and kisses, especially when the two characters aren't emotionally mature.
Instead, Character A makes gestures that reaffirm the relationship. This could be offering to do something Character B needs, making plans for later, or changing the topic to discuss something the other character cares about ("how are your cats doing?") etc.
Note that these "reaffirmation" gestures aren't the same as the cycle of abuse. This is more when two characters have had a difficult emotional conversation but aren't really sure how to continue being emotionally open, so they revert to something safer that still shows they care. They're not over-the-top gestures either, but more a special attention to something the other person loves. Knowing what the other person loves also demonstrates the depth of their relationship.
As always, I can't tell you what to do with your writing.
You are the crafter of your own story, and if you want people to talk like therapists for whatever reason, that's your choice. However, we want characters to feel like real people, and most real people don't lay it all out on the table every single time they're upset. If they do, they might be trauma vomiting, which is icky in and of itself.
Healthy communication isn't always perfect communication. People can have strong, loving relationships and still get things wrong - we're human. Having people calmly and rationally and easily talk about their feelings every single time is not only kind of boring, but it also feels weird, because unless we're primed to discuss those difficult topics and know we're perfectly safe, we're not going to do that.
People don't even do that in therapy, where they are paying for the service of talking about their feelings! Therapists also don't always do that IRL!
We're humans, and your characters need to feel like humans as well. That means letting them be imperfect communicators and using context clues rather than making them do all the work for the reader.
If you liked my advice, consider purchasing my book, 9 Years Yearning, for $3!
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writtenbymoonflower · 5 months ago
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Hello hello !!!
I hope you are doing fantastic <3
Could I request a poly!marauders x reader where reader randomly faints in the middle of class after complaining that she felt a little dizzy and the boys comforts her ? (I have no idea if you already wrote for this, if so, I apologize !!)
Lots of love <33
Hi lovely! This isn't super saccharine with the comfort, I hope that's okay! poly!marauders x fem!reader, mondern!au
cw: fainting, swearing
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You sat on the bench outside of your classroom, a half-eaten granola bar crumbling onto your lap when James all but fee-fi-fo-fummed down the hallway towards you, still flushed after rushing here in the middle of practice. 
“Jamie! Be quiet.” You scolded, cutting your eyes towards the open classroom door, the lecture still in progress. 
“Are you okay? Did you fall? Did you hurt yourself?” He knelt in from of you, checking for injury. 
“I’m fine. I was by my chair, my deskmate caught me.” He didn’t look very relieved. 
“What happened, sweetheart?” He pulled his phone out, typing in a number. 
“I just felt a bit dizzy, I have since this morning.” You started. James put his phone down when Remus and Sirius walked through the glass doors. 
“We’ve got the car pulled around.” Sirius scrambled his words out, rushing to you. 
“Remus! Don’t you have work today?” You whisper-scolded. He just rolled his eyes. You went to stand up but all the boys flinched. 
“Careful!” James’ hands shot out to gently push you back down. “Don’t get up too fast.” He beckoned Sirius to cage you on the other side. 
“I was able to walk out of the classroom just fine on my own.” You still took hold of James’ arm and allowed him to walk you out. 
“You’re feeling okay now though, right?” Sirius’ tone was laced with anxiety. 
“I’m perfectly fine.” You reached for him with your free hand.
“Do you know why you fainted?” Remus asked as he pushed the heavy door open, leading you straight to the car. You and James climbed into the backseat, Sirius in the front (it was just like him to never give up his shotgun seat), and Remus driving.
“No.” You could sense the downturn of his mouth without even having to see. “But I’m sure it’s nothing major.” 
“Um, babe.” Sirius was half concern and half sass. “I’m pretty sure that fainting without an apparent reason is very fucking concerning.” You were about to respond but James got there first.
“Why don’t we just backtrack.” He turned to you. “Did you sleep all right last night, angel?” You nodded. “Did you eat today?” You nodded again. “What did you have?” 
“Toast.” You responded. 
“Just toast?” Remus asked severely. 
“It was two pieces. And it’s only just past noon.” You reasoned. He looked displeased but didn’t argue more. James took that as permission to continue his gentle interrogation. 
“Did you have water with that, lovely?” He looked at you, an air of knowingness in his gaze. You rolled your lips in shame. Sirius turned around in his chair to look at you aghast. You knew that Remus was preoccupied with you, since he did not lecture him on seat belt safety. 
“Baby! We literally talked about this yesterday.” 
“Oh like you’re any better.” You scoffed. “If I remember correctly you were also being lectured yesterday.”
“Oi! My water bottle is half empty right now I’ll have you know.” He huffed and turned back around dramatically. You could see Remus rolling his eyes in the rearview mirror. 
“Back on topic please.” He scolded. James took the mantle back. 
“Angel, I think you probably fainted because you were dehydrated.” He said gently. 
“And because you didn’t have a proper breakfast.” Remus scolded. James gave him a look begging for patience and dug through his gym bag. He fished out a full bottle of water and a protein bar. 
“This isn’t much but it will do until we can get some decent food in you.” He handed them over, squeezing your shoulder affectionately. You rolled your eyes, pretending that you weren’t actually very hungry and thirsty. You drank the water in just a few large gulps. 
“Someone’s thirsty.” Sirius deadpanned. 
“Yeah, you. For attention.” You sassed. He turned around, squawking indignantly and swiping at you like a cat. You tried to kick him from your seat but Remus caught your foot. 
“Can you please refrain from fist fighting until we are out of the moving vehicle?” He was trying (and failing) to sound reprimanding. You grumbled. 
“You shouldn’t be fist fighting with the sick and injured anyway, pads.” James said, placing a hand on your thigh. It was Sirius’ turn to grumble. 
“Alright, fine.” Sirius said, faux indigent. “But the minute you’re better, it’s on dolly.”
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amnestria-the-elf · 2 months ago
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So we're all just supposed to be fucking grateful that Larian gave us "new Wyll content" (evil ending for a man who is canonically incorruptible, what the fuck) and simultaneously broke him again (giving low approval greetings to a romanced PC, what the fuck).
I... I just... the simultaneous feelings of rage and utter hopelessness are overwhelming.
Listen, if you've read any of my posts you know I have a pretty clear "Don't yuck anyone's yum" policy. If you think an evil Wyll ending is interesting, fine. But here's why it falls flat for me.
First, like I said above, Wyll is canonically incorruptible. It's literally the entire basis of his character. He is a man who was coerced into making an infernal contract to save a city and had to pay a horrible price for doing so, then spent seven fucking years alone in the wilderness doing his damned best to protect the people of the Sword Coast, while all along telling his horrible, abusive patron to just fuck off already.
Now, could you argue that during the events of the game, Wyll develops a taste for evil? Sure. There are plenty of opportunities for his villain origin story to unfold. But they never do. His moral compass never wavers. Turned into a devil? He feels shame, because it's an outward sign that he was doing things for Mizora that were morally wrong, and he didn't see it before. His approval rating for the PC shoots through the roof if you save Karlach, a sure indicator of his true moral compass. His father kidnapped? Fuck that noise, we're gonna save him. Rescue Zariel's "asset"? Ugh, fine, but don't get distracted from the real reason we're here. His father gets tadpoled? Oh hells no, we're gonna take down these assholes and save the godsdamned world. His father accuses him of being an agent of a devil and is super pissy about it? "Everything I did, I did for the people of the Sword Coast."
For fuck's sake, he will leave the party if the PC gets too evil, even knowing it means he'll probably turn into a mindflayer immediately. Even if he's romancing the PC. Unwavering moral compass. So giving him an evil ending without also going back and changing everything about his character just feels like lazy writing to me.
Which brings me to the second reason all of this rubs the wrong way. Wyll deserves so much more content. More romanced greetings, more reactions to other characters' choices, a final boss battle that is actually about him, a default ending that actually makes fucking sense (I have another post cooking about the Avernus ending, so I will leave it for now.)
And please, spare me your "But Wyll was rewritten after early access" bullshit. That's Larian's problem. They chose to listen to feedback and do a late-stage rewrite. They then chose to implement it poorly and never fucking fix it. Other characters, who already have far more content than Wyll, have had even more added over the course of the seven released patches. Wyll, on the other hand, has been sitting around completely ignored until now when we get this evil ending.
Many have rightfully pointed out the inherent racism steeped in all of this. I want Larian to be better. But as Maya Angelou said, "When someone shows you who they are, believe them." I already didn't have much hope about Patch 7 for Wyll, but this... honestly, this is worse than him just being ignored again.
The thing that kills me the most is that this is just going to be more fodder for the fandom to completely mischaracterize Wyll, for those who already haven't bothered to think critically about his character at all to just be like, oh, cool, Wyll is evil now. Nope. You've completely missed the point.
I'm just... so tired. I've worked very hard to put this little bubble of Wyll enthusiasts around me (hi friends I love you all!) so that I can hold on to some shred of sanity in this fandom. The world needs heroes of color. Just let Wyll be the hero in peace.
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garoujo · 1 year ago
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✩ ˛˚ . NAGI SEISHIRO — furniture shopping for your new apartment is a lot harder than you expected it to be when your boyfriend insists on trying it out first.
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ஜ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ contents! fluff, pro-football player nagi, he is just the sleepiest! ♡ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ note! oh how i have missed him :( my heart calls his name always <3
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“sei! get up!” you hiss under your breathe as you watch your boyfriend nagi drop himself down onto another one of the display couches, letting his long legs stretch out infront of him as he relaxes into the cushions with a sigh.
“huh, why? i’m jus’ testing it out, gotta make sure it’s comfy.” his voice is a soft drawl already as he lets his eyes rest closed, snowy bangs falling over his features as you nudge at his feet with a pout.
“and is it? you’ve tested it now.” you grumble as you watch nagi tilt his head to the side slightly, shrugging his shoulders as he hums dreamily. it’s like he’s really considering his answer before his eyes peek open to cast you a sleepy glance.
“eh, yeah.. soooo comfy~ cmeer, try it out, angel.” he sighs as his arms reach for you, almost successfully grabbing at your hips before you step back out of his reach— causing the sleepy striker to send you a cute little frown before he falls back with a huff.
“but we still have so much to see seishiro.” you try to reason but you know nagi’s the hardest person to move when he gets comfy, casting a glance over your shoulder to make sure there’s not some employee on their way to kick you both out yet.
“ah, that sounds like such a pain, we can jus’ get this one.” he really was like a big baby, a 190cm pro-football player baby. his cheeks are puffed out as he pouts and he looks like he’s on the brink of falling asleep as he blinks up at you, reaching an arm out every few seconds to see if it’ll convince you to come closer.
“or i can just take u home if u don’t get up.” you hiss under your breath, opting for this route first over the actual cuddle route because you don’t wanna give into him too easily. just incase it really is that comfy.
“that’s even more bothersome. no fair, pretty thing.” nagi’s words are grumbled, a slight whine as he kicks one of his feet out and lets his hands shove into his pockets to pull out his phone. that’s when you know it just got real, watching him drop his phone into landscape and no doubt about to load up a video game— he really was getting comfortable.
“fine, sei! move over.” you finally give in, for your own sake— and the stores— because you really didn’t feel like being here all day.
“yay, you gotta cuddle me. wanna make sure we can nap here, see~” you let yourself rest down beside nagi as his arms wrap around you instinctively, pulling you easily against his chest while his head nuzzles into the crook of your neck.
it really was a comfy couch, you admit as you really let yourself melt into the cushions, surrounded by your boyfriends body heat as he wraps himself around you. you give it a few moments, feeling yourself sink into a blissful sort of comfort before you realise you’re still in a store, and your snowy haired boyfriend has grown a little too quiet.. and heavy next to you as you nudge him.
“hey! don’t fall asleep, sei! get up!”
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© 2023 GAROUJO. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.
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daenysx · 6 months ago
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this is like the summary of my morning- without the boys, sadly. i woke up really bad and writing this helped a lot, i hope you enjoy too! ♡
poly!marauders x fem!reader, mostly fluff - a little hurt/comfort maybe
an almost ruined morning
you wake up angry for no reason this morning.
maybe no reason isn't right; you're stressed because of your final week, mostly thanks to the high pressure you put on yourself and one of your closest friends cancelled your study date for today. you blink your eyes open with slight panic, irritation makes your stomach achy. there's also a headache that starts forming, a nice ribbon on top of your package of stress.
it must be raining out there, you hear the water drops hitting against the window. the boys are nowhere to be seen, they must've woken up earlier than you. you leave the empty bed with glossy eyes, almost tearing up for not waking up early enough to get some school work done. that wasn't what you planned last night.
"there she is." james sees you first. he opens his arms for you. "good morning, pretty girl."
"morning." you mumble, burying your face to his chest. he smells like aftershave and shower gel, slight coffee and a hint of cigarettes which you think he gets from kissing remus. he wraps his arms around you, holding you tight.
"are you okay?" he whispers to your ear. you're sure he gives a look behind you to remus, not understanding what happens.
"i was gonna wake up early to do my readings." you say against his chest.
he strokes your hair, feeling the uneasiness in your voice. "it's still early babe, you can start after breakfast, hmm?"
remus comes next to you, rubbing your back and giving you a kiss on your hair. "i thought you were gonna meet with shelby today for studying."
he came home late last night so he doesn't know you won't be seeing shelby. "she cancelled. said she has something came up." you murmur.
"yeah?" remus raises an eyebrow. "does that mean we get to spend time together?"
you nod into james's chest, discomfort creeps into your hands. shaky hands, pins and needles. you don't know why you're so nervous.
sirius comes into kitchen, hand in his hair to shape his wet curls up. he gives you a huge smile when he sees you. "good morning!" he says brightly. you immediately sense he's in the mood for a happy morning. you wish you could feel the same.
"morning, siri." you say, still leaning to james but your face is turned to the boys.
"what's wrong?" sirius asks. "what's with the pout, angel girl?"
"i don't know." you admit. "i woke up angry and sad, and i wanna study but i can't. i don't know."
you say the last part with a shaky voice and that makes boys frown. you bury yourself back to james's chest, embarrassed and silly, you don't feel like you can deal with this. you're being too extra and you just woke up.
"okay." james says. "it's fine, baby, it's normal. let's go lay on couch a bit, yeah?"
remus gives him an approving look. james leads you into living room, you lay down angrily. he takes the fluffiest blanket to cover your bodies. you can hear sirius drying his hair in the bathroom and remus starts the kettle for tea.
you are more than willing to stay against james, he's big and soft for you. with his muscular arms wrapped around you, you feel safe. hidden from everything, and it's nice. he kisses your forehead, his glasses are on the coffee table. he rubs your back with a huge hand. you breathe shakily, definitely unable to relax.
"sweetheart." he whispers. "we gotta relax a bit, okay?" he puts your head on his chest, right where his heart beats. "can you follow my breathing?"
you try to do as he says. your eyes are closed, your ear is pressed against your lover's heart. it's not so easy to do but you succeed after a long minute. "it's okay." he whispers, kissing your head. "relax, baby."
your head stops pounding after a while, that's good. you hear silent steps into the room, remus comes in with a steaming mug and a full plate. he puts them on the coffee table before coming to your side, his long fingers are gentle on your hair.
"feel any better?" he asks. you nod, looking at him from james's chest. he motions the table with his eyes. "do you want to have some breakfast? i got you your favorite."
"thank you." you say, eyes filled with tears suddenly. remus coos lovingly, he leans in to dry your tears. you can't handle them being so gentle with you, feeling like you ruined their morning. they still take care of you when you're being useless on the couch. "i'm sorry." you say.
"sorry for what?" sirius asks, joining you in the room. "you're too lovely to say sorry for anything, babe, please stop."
you cry for a few minutes, letting it out with gentle encouragements from boys. the stress of everything makes you lightheaded, you don't want to feel like this. you don't want to cry over academics anymore, you want to be a person who can adapt to quick changes when things don't go as planned. your tears wet james's shirt but he doesn't seem to care, his calm eyes following you. you get tired. you feel so tired.
you sit up, done with the crying. you rub your eyes, remus holds your both hands in his one hand as he uses the other one to dry your tears softly. he has a look of understanding on his face, you are grateful for the sentiment.
"can i have some tea?" you ask. sirius hands you the cup quickly, you take a few sips before looking at them. james wants to wipe the look of guilt off your face, he holds your hand.
"i'm sorry." you say. "i don't know what came over me."
"you have nothing to say sorry for." james says. "it's okay if you don't feel well, lovely."
"it's just-" you start. "i can't spend the time i think of doing things by actually doing them and- it stresses me out. like i'm always competing against time."
you take another sip from your tea. saying what upsets you out loud is a nice feeling, knowing they'll never judge you. they actually listen and understand, they will stay with you no matter what.
"you have 10 days until the finals, right?" remus asks.
you nod. "but i have to finish a paper before that."
"but still it means you have time." remus comes, sits on the empty spot on the couch. he cups your cheeks, his heart breaks at the sight of your tired eyes. "i think- we can spend today by resting and helping you get some sleep. you brain can't function properly if you don't take care of yourself, dove."
you nod. "okay."
"okay." he kisses your forehead. "good."
you finish your tea, and take a bite of the breakfast remus prepared for you. you don't feel like eating much but still force yourself to eat some of it. remus takes your empty cup to kitchen and james leaves to open the window in the bedroom now that the rain has stopped. fresh air will be nice.
"don't worry please." you say softly to sirius. he looks upset, nothing like his sparkly mood before. "i'm sorry i made you sad."
he can't resist it, takes you into his arms. you are more than happy to follow him, putting your head on the curve of his shoulder. he keeps you, smiles only a bit. "you have nothing to be sorry for. i just- i hate seeing you cry."
"i know."
"i wanna put a smile on your pretty face." he says, cupping your cheeks. "you're cute with the pout, but i'd prefer a smile."
you smile. a real smile, just what he deserves. you actually show him your teeth, he kisses you. "do you really think i'm cute?" you flirt, trying to get one more kiss from him. his kisses are healing.
"i think you're more than cute." he kisses your nose. "i can prove it."
"are you trying to make her faint, pads?" james asks, coming back to your side.
he might be right because sirius has always had this effect on you. you lose yourself when he kisses you, and it's good. it makes you forget your problems. he makes you feel brave, like you can achieve anything you want. he kisses you once more, your eyes are closed. james admires the sight.
"finally got a smile on her face, do you see that?" sirius says. "don't be jealous, prongs."
"i'm jealous." remus says, sitting on the other side of you. "i want a kiss."
he is teasing more than usual, to cheer you up. you give him a good kiss as he takes you to his lap. james sits on the empty spot you left, playing with sirius's hair. it's definitely how they flirt.
"maybe you should put a smile on my face too, huh?" james says to his boyfriend. "gorgeous."
sirius kisses him, his hand slipping into james's curls. they start talking after, a quiet chat about their games. everything goes back to normal now that you feel better. remus keeps you on his lap, though. you don't think he'll leave you for a while. he likes the reassurance of your wellness, he likes the quiet kisses you press on his neck when you wanna stop thinking. he likes how you play with his fingers.
remus brushes his lips to the side of your head. "better, lovely?"
you nod. it's not a lie, you feel better. sometimes it's good to cry about things, especially when you're treated like this by your boys. you just need some time to settle down, you think. remus's lap is the perfect place to think about things and then forget them, he rubs your back with occasional neck kisses and you fall asleep right there.
(ps; the pics are from pinterest, they don't belong to me)
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hyuckwrlds · 5 months ago
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>> little light
wc: 635 happy birthday haechan
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Haechan’s alarm is a blaring, obnoxious sound. It’s shrill and annoying and echoes off the walls of his bedroom, almost always waking you up before him. That’s why it’s a wonder that he’s able to sleep through it so soundly, face nuzzled blissfully into your hair as if his alarm was set to the sound of angels serenading him instead.
In retrospect, his alarm rarely does its job of waking him up. For some reason, it always has to be you.
“Haechan,” you mumble, patting lazily at the arm slung across your body. You don’t have to open your eyes to know he’s still asleep.
You pat him again. “Baby, your alarm.”
Somewhere behind you, you feel him stir, but he has yet to silence his phone. Instead, he only mutters something you can’t catch. You squint open your eyes to the faint light of sunrise seeping in through the window.
“Haechan,” you repeat, turning around in his hold. With the tip of your nose, you nudge him by the collar of his old teddy bear t-shirt. It had been your birthday gift to him some years ago but is now worn to the point where the print is beginning to fade. And despite all the shirts you’ve gotten him since then, none of them have ever been as loved as this one.
“Sorry,” he eventually replies, reaching over you to grab his phone sitting on the bedside table. Once the room settles back into silence, he resumes his original position, albeit holding you a little tighter under the sheets. 
“Aren’t you supposed to be meeting with Chenle?” you ask sleepily, ducking your head beneath his chin.
You hear him stifle back a yawn. “He can wait.”
“I think we both know that he can’t,” you tease, reveling in the slow rise and fall of his chest.
Somewhere above you he snorts. “Well, he’s gonna have to. This is more important.”
He presses a kiss to your forehead and your heart swells with warmth. Even though this is how most mornings start when you two are together, you can’t help but be selfish for a little bit, indulging in his love for just a minute or two longer.
You’d never tell him but he’s right. Maybe nothing else matters when he’s by your side. But for now—
“Baby,” you start again. “You should get up.”
For now, you’d rather not be at the opposite end of Chenle’s annoyance.
Haechan takes a heavy breath before loosening his grip on you. “Fine. Hold on. Lemme just—”
He shifts back a little until you’re able to get a clear view of his face. He stares at you, with his messy hair and constellations of moles dotting his cheeks. You fight back the smile pulling at your lips. He’s just that cute.
You raise a brow. “Just what?”
“Let me look at you,” he says softly, smiling into the words.
There’s a roll of your eyes. “You look at me all the time.”
“Not like this.” 
“What’s different this time?���
“Nothing,” he says before shrugging. “Everything.”
Sure, it’s a vague answer but with the way he looks at you, you’re certain you already know what he means. It’s not unlike the times when you’re out with friends and his gaze meets yours across the room—searching for the comfort of nothing other than knowing you’re there. The same rings true this morning.
Because despite his stupid alarm and the cracking print of his old t-shirt, everything is right. In this moment, it’s only you and him, and he’ll be damned if he lets Chenle get in the way of that.
“Good morning, beautiful,” he greets, running a hand along the side of your face.
You take his hand in yours, smiling over at him. “Good morning, Haechan. I love you.”
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starryeyeddreamer21 · 4 months ago
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I need Vaggie and Husk to be friends SO badly. I just think they have potential like they could possibly be one of the best duos if given a chance. I actually have so many thoughts on this so hear me out:
There's so much potential JUST because of their relationships with Charlie and Angel (Charlie and Angel are siblings but we don't need to get into that right now)
But seriously short grumpy characters with wings and their extroverted beanpole partner is killing me
So basically I can see them both ranting about what their partners are doing on a daily basis but it always ends with "I love them SO much" "Cheers I'll drink to that"
I have a feeling Charlie and Angel are both the kind of people to leave lipstick marks on their partners and just not tell them so Husk and Vaggie have to check each other out real quick before going anywhere. I mean no questions asked just one of them standing in front of the other with their arms and legs spread out until the other one gives them a thumbs up or a rag to clean it off with.
I also think it would be funny if Husk was the first person to know Vaggie was an angel he just didn't mention it. He says so himself that the residents of the hotel will spill their secrets when they get drunk so Vaggie definitely got drunk and let it slip that she was an angel but didn't remember it by morning. Husk's motto is basically "That's none of my business" so he just doesn't say anything.
Also continuing with the "that's none of my business" thing, Vaggie absolutely agrees with that sentiment as long as it doesn't hurt Charlie or the hotel. Neither of them like people digging into their business and having Alastor in their lives means someone is ALWAYS digging so it's nice to be with someone who just does not care.
Oh and they both shit on Alastor 24/7 so good for them
PREENING EACH OTHER!!! By the time Vaggie gets her wings back they're close enough for this. Husk hates his wings and is shit at taking care of them but Vaggie really wants this to happen. She does miss some things about the exorcists and that's one of them. Of course she would never say that out loud but Husk gets it and they do it anyway.
Vaggie would start flying ALL THE TIME after getting her wings like she has so much time to catch up on. Angel knows that her and Husk are good friends and that Husk hates his form so he'll get Vaggie to convince Husk to fly with her. It takes a little bit but they have fun and Charlie is really proud of her so it's worth it.
They can literally sit in comfortable silence for hours and not get bored
They bicker all the time about everything like they'll say the meanest shit but they're besties and they're joking so it's fine
They are so down to kill Valentino at any time. They have multiple plans, they have lists, they're really creative about it too.
They'll just sit, people watch, and judge strangers together
They're so judgemental but also the least judgmental??? They'd be like "Why would you do that you dumbass" but also actually listen to what's being said and try to find a reasonable solution for each other
Double dates that Vaggie and Husk don't actually want to go on but unfortunately Charlie and Angel are convincing (they have a really good time)
They were both stripped from their occupations (overlord/angel). They miss it sometimes and they feel bad about it because they were both terrible people during those times. When they get like this they always seek each other's company. Sometimes they actually talk about it, sometimes they change the subject to something completely different, sometimes they have a drink and sit in silence. Either way they only acknowledge it with each other.
Husk teaches Vaggie how to make drinks. It's calming for him (even though it's annoying that he's technically being forced to do it) so he thought she might like it. She does and is actually really good at it. When they get more residents she'll help him out behind the bar.
Sometimes they'll sing together. They sound amazing and their partners love it. Husk also tries to teach Vaggie how to play saxophone it does not go as good as bartending did
They're the only ones in the hotel that can speak Spanish so yes they do use that to their advantage
Are both so tired all the time. They just deserve a stress free nap. They end up curled up together asleep and are found by Angel in the middle of the night. He takes a picture and immediately sends it to Charlie. Charlie and Angel manage to keep the picture but are not allowed to show anyone or ever mention it again.
They would never actually admit to being friends even though they're best friends and one of the few people the other can actually stand being around
JUST HUSK AND VAGGIE BEING BEST FRIENDS YOU GUYS
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